Good News and Bad

Lately, I have not been motivated to write, but two recent events in particular prompt today’s post. Neither has happened yet, actually, but both have been announced. One of them invites your participation, and the other erases future opportunities to enjoy a visit to a renowned institution.

Butterfly Big Day is September 12, 2026. Captive butterflies in butterfly houses don't count, though.

The other day I was approached by a colleague, via a social media messaging channel, and asked to promote the first “Butterfly Big Day,” taking place on September 12. This is an attempt to take an almost literal snapshot of global butterfly abundance and diversity through community science. The one-day project is sponsored by a variety of organizations and working groups, including The Urban Butterfly Initiative, which created the event.

Participation in the Butterfly Big Day involves joining the iNaturalist project, and uploading your photos of butterflies seen on that day to the platform.

World Wasp Week is September 20-28.

In the process of joining the Big Butterfly Day project, I learned that World Wasp Week is also coming up fast: September 20-28. The same procedure exists for that undertaking as well: Join the iNaturalist project, then upload your images of wasps, bees, ants, sawflies, and related members of the order Hymenoptera, seen during that time period. Autumn, in the northern hemisphere, is typically a great time to see wasp diversity. Don’t forget the tiny ones. In fact, that is where the greatest wasp variety exists, and none of those little creatures sting, either.

Don't forget the tiny wasps, like this diapriid, for World Wasp Week!

Flowers are the logical place to observe and record wasps, but it also pays to look at aphid colonies. Aphids secrete copious amounts of a sugary liquid waste called honeydew, and wasps, ants, bees, and other insects crave it. Turn on your porch light at night, because a surprising number of wasps are nocturnal. Many of those are very small, but there are some large ichneumon wasps that will likely visit, too.

There is another date looming that is, unfortunately, not so full of joy and excitement. The Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University in Philadelphia just issued a press release announcing that the museum will be closing to the public as of September 27. This abruptly ends a nearly 200-year run of existence for the museum, which was its own entity, the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia, until 2011, when it became an affiliate of Drexel University. Coincidence? Maybe.

The Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University, in Philadelphia, USA.

The statement that was broadcast cited the Covid pandemic as a major factor in decreased attendance, from which the museum has apparently never fully recovered from. The museum administration claims that it maintains a commitment to public education and engagement, but is consolidating resources to protect the large and historically valuable collections housed within the facility.

The letter also asserts that they are not underestimating the impact this decision will have. Oh, but they are underestimating that. The repercussions for museums across the entire United States, and also abroad, will be anxiety-inducing at best, and drastic at worst.

What the average person hears in the media statement is “We value a vault of dead organism specimens over the education of living human beings.” It affirms the existing beliefs of many that science is elitist and exclusionary.

I have to bite my tongue when I hear friends and colleagues praising the museum for prioritizing the collections. I get it. I have worked in collections myself, including the Smithsonian Institution (on private contract in the 1980s). They are invaluable and irreplaceable. The problem is, we have done a terrible job of communicating that value to people who don’t work in museums. Science is suffering from public distrust enough as it is, without closing a major portal to understanding it.

I have friends who have worked at the Academy of Natural Sciences, and others in Philadelphia who know the museum intimately. This is beyond gut-wrenching for them, and is arguably a slap in the face to their years of employment, volunteerism, and patronage. I have never been to the museum myself, but am deeply mourning the fact that I will never be able to.

Enough. Go out there and document the butterflies, wasps, and other creatures, while you still can. Visit museums and nature centers while they are still open to you. Take nothing for granted, but do your best to guarantee a future that is better than our present.