Don't fence us in
Help is on the way for the New England Science Center's snakes, bugs, birds, cats, bears, and otters
by Kristen Lombardi
Back and forth, back and forth. The mountain lion must know every inch
of its 350 square-foot, concrete-and-steel cage.
"Oh look how beautiful," says a lone, female spectator, who then
shakes her head. "You poor, poor thing."
The 200-pound, blond, brawny cat takes no notice of its admirer as she gazes
and leans against the fenced-off section, which is one of seven outdoor
wildlife exhibits at the New England Science Center in Worcester. Instead, the
animal walks past a few logs and a worn ball, plops its body down on the hard
floor, and then yawns -- revealing its pointy incisors.
If Webster's Dictionary were to illustrate the word "boredom," it might
use a picture of this animal.
But then, the mountain lion may not be alone. A few steps along the wildlife
pathway, in a slightly smaller cage, two bobcats -- spotted, with short tails
-- lay languidly on a plank, above scattered logs and empty food bowls,
oblivious to the whistles of passing kids. The polar bears, mother Ursa Minor
and daughter Kenda, lay side-by-side, legs sprawled across cracking concrete
and a few patches of dried excrement. And at the path's bottom, two river
otters rustle through weeds in a concrete-and-glass exhibit, then dive into an
algae-infested pool.
The habitats, undeniably, look empty, even uninspired. Unlike zoos and science
museums that mix vegetation with the animals' living conditions, the animals
here are confined mostly to concrete. And this has long been the case, thereby
fostering a general perception that NESC neglects its wildlife; in recent
months, a handful of people publicly criticized the museum for the "sad,"
"poor," and "pitiful" conditions at the wildlife center in the letters section
of the T&G.
It's an image that NESC staff and trustees know well -- one they not only view
as unwarranted but even bristle at. Today's wildlife exhibits, while hardly
sights to behold, don't violate federal zoological standards, they say; and the
staff, who work regularly with specialists from Boston to Providence, would
never harm the animals.
"The habitats look shabby, and this sends a bad message to the public," says
Laura Myers, NESC executive director. But she adds, "People need to know that
the animals aren't being mistreated."
Beginning this fall, in fact, the museum intends to launch its first, major
revitalization effort in decades. The earliest visible sign will be an official
name-change on September 17 to the Ecotarium. And then renovations, estimated
to cost $18 million, will rearrange the NESC facility and grounds in a way that
"makes more sense to visitors," Myers says.
More important, though, the museum will address all of the outdoor, animal
exhibits, reconstructing them in a manner that more accurately resembles the
animals' native habitats -- and, essentially, affording NESC the chance to turn
its reputation around. To ensure the campaign's success, NESC isn't simply
acknowledging the wildlife center's problems, but is promising new exhibits
that'll wow the public.
As Myers says, "It's going to knock people's socks off."
Even Don Winans, NESC wildlife curator, admits he despises the wildlife
center's current conditions. For him, it matters little that the animal
exhibits meet US Department of Agriculture's zoological standards. Or that he
and his four-person staff work with prestigious Tufts Wildlife Clinic vets to
ensure the animals' health. Because what people remember about the wildlife
center -- what many then see as a reflection of his abilities -- are
the uninspired habitats.
"I don't know what irritates me more," Winans says. "The people who gripe
about the animals' care or [those] who think the exhibits are great."
Winans is responsible for close to 100 species, about 500 animals, ranging
from polar bears to primates to pythons, housed inside and outside the museum.
None of them can survive in the wild -- at least, the exhibited ones can't.
They were either born into captivity or the museum got them from Tufts because
they were severely injured; the snowy owls, for example, were hit by airplanes
at Logan and Roger Williams airports and can no longer fly. The state
Department of Fisheries and Wildlife also donates illegal species that it's
confiscated, such as pythons and boa constrictors. A handful of animals were
unwanted pets, abandoned on the museum's doorstep.
Aside from the animals on display, NESC participates in Tufts rescue and
rehabilitation program, which means that it houses injured animals, that can be
nursed to health, in a holding pen away from the public. (It's commonly known
that animals, overly exposed to people, lose survival instincts.) When ready,
these animals are re-released. Just last year, NESC helped to rehabilitate a
bobcat, coyote, and a black bear -- all of which suffered broken bones from car
crashes.
For Winans, this work "sort of justifies what we do here," he says, adding
that, "We have all these animals in captivity; when we release one, it makes us
feel like more than caretakers."
In his role as caretaker, though, he appears consummate, and this, perhaps,
explains why he speaks so candidly about the wildlife center's present, dumpy
state. On a typical Thursday, as he strolls through the area, he wastes no time
pointing out shortcomings.
First, the otter exhibit. It matches the animals' native habitat better than
the others but needs a new pool, he says. Not only is the 500-gallon tank small
for these rambunctious animals, but its water-filtration system is made for
domestic pools - and otters defecate every 20 minutes. "The pump isn't
strong enough to keep the water clean," he explains. The structure's open top
also presents difficulties: raccoons climb inside; birds contaminate the water;
and once, an otter -- highly-intelligent creatures -- stacked boxes against the
side wall and then escaped.
A few feet away, the bobcats and mountain lion lay listless in their
respective cages, all of which were designed to store corn. Winans describes
the corncribs as "vintage New England; they're all concrete and steel." That
is, of course, what's wrong: there's nothing natural about them. Because of the
hard floors, the cats have chronic ingrown-toenails, and the female lion, who
died three years ago, had suffered from acute arthritis. "Her ankles fell apart
from walking on concrete," he says. The shoebox-sized cage is an issue too,
especially for the mountain lion, an animal that claims up to 10 square miles
as territory in the wild.
Dried excrement on the polar bears' habitat poses the biggest challenge for
staff. Right now, they have no ability to get inside the exhibit to clean,
Winans says, so they use a firehose to spray down waste. The method doesn't
work well. Once a year, they lock the bears in their den, a tiny,
poorly-designed area that the animals dislike, then patch up cracks in the
exhibit's floor. "I hate to force them into the den so we do the best we can,"
he adds. Even though the staff throw large, unbreakable "boomer balls" or
blocks of ice and fish in the pool to combat boredom, Winans says, the barren,
concrete structure doesn't afford the bears much stimulation either.
The current set-up, basically, grew out of an earlier era, a time when zoos
and museums kept animals to satisfy people's fascination rather than to
educate, staff say. Because of this, the wildlife center's "underinterpreted,"
says Dolores Root, director of exhibits and programs; NESC, simply put, doesn't
tell enough stories about the animals. Wildlife-exhibit signs now offer basic
information, such as the animal's terrain. The signs don't explain why the
animals are at NESC, for instance, or how they live in the wild or whether
they're endangered. So it's not unusual for visitors to leave the museum
without a sense of how the animals connect to the rest of it. And, although
NESC is the perfect forum for promoting wildlife appreciation and preservation,
particularly since many animals have been harmed by humans, that message is
lost on visitors.
Such programmatic weaknesses can best be overcome with live, lecture series
and demonstrations, Winans says, but adds, "It's embarrassing to do those
programs because of the conditions of the habitats."
Ever since NESC first recognized its "zoo problem" nearly a decade ago, staff
and trustees have worked to rectify it. Yet change, while desirable, has come
slowly because of the nature of animal-exhibit reconstruction, they say. Not
only does the museum have to raise millions of dollars in funding, it also has
to design aesthetically-pleasing, naturally landscaped habitats that satisfy
such practical concerns as public safety and staff accessibility.
"The museum knew it had a zoo problem for years, but it takes time to fix it,"
says Jean McDonough, a board vice-president.
It's taken so long, in fact, because the upcoming wildlife-center renovations
have been conceived as part of what Myers calls NESC's "metamorphosis," a major
revitalization effort that began in 1989 when board members shifted the
museum's focus away from hard sciences like physics and chemistry toward
environmental sciences.
By the late '80s, Myers says, NESC had undergone so many incarnations (such as
changes in name and location) that its public image was, at best, muddled.
"People didn't know if we were a zoo or a traditional science center," she
explains. So to better define the museum, board members studied its origins,
examined its resources; they considered the broad collections of birds' eggs,
butterflies, and minerals that NESC, which opened as Worcester Natural History
Society in 1825, has in storage, as well as its wildlife, planetarium, and its
60-acres of woodlands and wetlands.
Staff and trustees saw a connection between all of these resources -- the
natural world. By then changing its mission to environmental education, they
say, NESC has tried to make that link more obvious and meaningful to
visitors.
"In many ways, we're going back to our roots," says Stephen Loring, a board
member for 20 years. Today's science museums, in general, center on mechanical
and physical principles, but NESC is once again concentrating on "land,
animals, air, and water," he adds.
That NESC chose to focus solely on environmental sciences has
apparently placed the Worcester institution in its own league. No other
American science museum regards its total purpose to be "environmental
education and global change," Myers says. So although NESC never set out to
make a name for itself, it may, by virtue of its niche, become known as a
national leader in showcasing "environmental discovery, study, and
conservation."
"Our goal isn't to make us nationally renowned, but we will be defined by our
niche," Myers explains. "Our mission, and the way in which we're using our
resources, puts us in a unique place."
But staff and trustees needed to alter more than the NESC mission, especially
since the building, constructed in the early '70s, has hardly been modernized.
"The science center hasn't [been renovated] since we put in an elevator 15
years ago," Loring says. There are the basic, maintenance issues such as sewage
and water drainage to tend to in the oldest exhibits -- the wildlife exhibits.
And, since the institution's seen an increase in visitors (from 70,000 to
135,000 annually since it moved to Harrington Way), it's grown well beyond the
facility's capabilities: NESC cannot offer food service; it must haul in
portable toilets to handle large, school groups; it hasn't enough classroom and
office space.
Ultimately, the building's become so inefficient that the museum's chances of
survival without capital improvements seem slim. "We had to make a commitment
to invest and revitalize or plan on closing the museum down," Myers says.
Staff and trustees considered a number of dramatic steps; indeed, in the early
'90s, they even thought about entirely phasing out the wildlife center. Myers
called zoos and sanctuaries across the globe to try to find new homes for the
animals, including NESC's mascots -- the polar bears.
But in the end, Myers says, "We decided that, given our new mission and how we
got the animals, we should keep them."
Many visitors, of course, come to NESC to see the exotic animals, and while
the museum acknowledges these animals' appeal, it's modified the wildlife
center. Instead of boosting its foreign-species collection, NESC's focusing
largely on New England animals, using them as a way to teach about the local
ecosystem. Non-native species, such as the polar bears, are related to the
region somehow; when talking about the museum's pythons, for instance, staff
try to discuss the exotic-pet trade here.
Winans explains, "For the longest time, there was no method to our madness but
now we're focusing on New England."
Science centers, unlike other cultural institutions, cannot merely devise
strategies for attracting visitors. "We in science museums have a different
challenge than, say, art museums," says Dennis Wint, president of
Philadelphia's Franklin Institute. Because science centers "interpret issues
and principles of science for people," he adds, they must keep abreast of
rapid, dramatic advances in the field, then present the phenomena so visitors
can understand the significance.
Thus, says Ann Muscat, senior vice-president at California Science Center in
Los Angeles, "There's a growing awareness to make presentations more relevant,
to bridge science with people's everyday lives."
To do this, science centers across the country are re-energizing their core
exhibits through reconstruction. Take the Museum of Science and Industry in
Chicago, which just completed $30 million in renovations that included building
a large-scale naval exhibit, assembling a Boeing-727 plane, and redesigning its
oldest feature, a walk-in coal mine. Or the California Science Center, which is
in the midst of a $130 million capital campaign to add halls on life and earth
sciences, as well as an elementary school.
The success of such ventures is difficult to measure, especially since they're
so recent, but it's typically beneficial for a science center to review, even
revamp its image. As Muscat says, "Some science centers add facilities, some
completely rebuild, but what they're addressing is an ongoing [industry]
problem: newness."
NESC may not be reinventing itself per se, but it is undergoing substantial
change. Its $18 million capital plan, designed to accommodate as many as
180,000 visitors, rearranges the building, then adds 7000 square feet to its
40,000 square-foot building, in offices, classrooms, and amenities like a cafe
and orientation center. Not only will the grounds be opened, with nature trails
and a longer train track, but the outdoor layout will feature unusual additions
such as a tree-canopy walkway -- the first publicly-accessible, leaf-line path.
Until now, such walkways have only been open to tree-canopy researchers at
universities, primarily.
Yet maybe the most striking improvements relate to wildlife. To give the
animals settings that more correctly emulate their natural habitats, NESC's
availing its existing trees, rock ledge, and ponds. The new habitats are more
spacious and certain to be more pleasant; they're even expected to satisfy
stringent criteria for accreditation from the American Association of Zoos and
Aquariums, something that Winans says, "We're not even close to complying with
now."
The otters -- curious, playful animals -- will get a home in which they can
romp; at least, the new exhibit, estimated to cost $460,000, is meant to draw
out their whimsy. The habitat's being relocated to the "upper pond," and boasts
a 6000-gallon pool (with new filtration system), a flowing stream, mud-bath
nook, and hiding spots. Visitors can watch the animals from various vantages:
underwater, inside a den, or at pond's edge.
For the bobcats and mountain lion, the most radical change may be the simplest
detail: dirt. Because the cats were born in captivity, they've always
walked on concrete. Their new habitats feature underbrush, trees, as well as
layered rock so the cats can peer down on spectators -- a position that's less
threatening for them. Different ground textures like grass, ledge, and logs
will allow the animals to work their joints, Winans notes. Just as important,
no doubt, is the sizable space increase; all of them will have an additional
1000 square feet or so.
Even though the polar bears will remain in a familiar location, near Sundial
Plaza, the animals' new, $1 million exhibit will look noticeably different. The
concrete structure will be re-landscaped, with vegetation, a waterfall, and
streams, to provide more shady, comfortable spots for the bears. An improved
filtration system will be installed in the 22,000-gallon pool. And, since the
animals' den will be expanded, staff can properly clean the habitat -- not to
mention hide raisins, mackerel, and lettuce under rocks so the bears can
"forage and act like natural bears," Winans says.
Not every animal will get a new home immediately or simultaneously, however.
The first construction phase, slated to start in October, includes the otter
exhibit, as well as wooded habitats for snowy owls and American bald eagles.
The next round may begin as early as spring 1999; it'll deal with remaining
habitats, surrounding trails, and a free-flight aviary.
For staff and trustees, practical and financial factors must be weighed, they
say. Although the museum's raised $10 million so far, it isn't enough to fully
implement the plan. And, since NESC intends to remain open during construction,
the museum has to work on one entrance at a time. All of the phase-one
renovations, both inside and outside, including the eagle, owl, and otter
exhibits, are situated near the front door.
Loring explains, "We're building from one entrance to another and including
some visitor amenities up front."
Besides, staff say, the timeline allows NESC to care for its animals during
construction, rather than ship them to zoos temporarily. Most exhibits -- for
the eagles, owls, otters, mountain lion, bobcats, and monkeys -- will be placed
in different spots so the animals can stay put until the new ones are ready.
Only the polar bears have to move -- to a location 500 feet away. NESC will
modify its holding pen, then house the bears there while their exhibit's under
construction.
As the renovations get underway, the staff is looking to address programmatic
problems at the wildlife center. The building's redesign, for one, aims to
"play with the tension of what we do indoors and outdoors," says Root, the
director of exhibits and programs. When renovations are finished, visitors will
walk from the parking lot, through the woods, then into the museum; upon
entering it, they'll spot a glass wall revealing landscape beyond. This wall's
meant to bridge the museum's internal and external exhibits, Root adds.
To further link the two, NESC will enhance its signs along the "wildlife
walkway," where exhibited animals will be housed and native species encouraged
to nest. There'll be information on the habitats: why the animals can't be
released, how they live in the wild, how they live in captivity. There'll be
information on the environment: the landscape's history, the New England flora
and fauna. And, perhaps most important, wildlife curators will do more live
presentations.
Considering all this, Root says, "The wildlife walkway won't just be about the
animals on exhibit." The large animals are sure to remain big, public draws,
but she adds, "We'll provide the interpretations [needed] to give visitors a
deeper experience."
It is, finally, the enhanced "interpretations," along with the animal-exhibit
renovations, that will distance NESC from the perception that it neglects its
wildlife. Because no matter how qualified the staff or how special the animals'
circumstances, appearances make a lasting impression; as Winans says, "Here we
are promoting ourselves as an environmental-education museum, and we have cats
living on concrete: it's hypocritical; it's embarrassing."
Now, he concludes, "We can tell people we're fixing it."
Rundown on the renovations
The New England Science Center intends to launch its
first, major revitalization effort in decades, and this includes reconstructing
all of the outdoor animal exhibits. The following is a rundown of those
exhibits, how they look now and how they'll look in the future.
The polar bears' habitat currently:
is located near Sundial Plaza
is 7500 square feet
is a concrete structure using steep ledge
has a 22,000-gallon pool with an underwater viewing area
has a small den with limited caretaker access
The polar bears' habitat after renovations:
will be placed near Sundial Plaza
will have 7500 square feet
will be made more natural by adding trees and plants
will have a 22,000-gallon pool with new filtration system
will have a cascading waterfall and running streams
will have a new den that's twice the current size
will have greater caretaker access
will have enhanced signage and a space for demonstrations
The river otters' exhibit currently:
is 1000 square feet
is located near the playground
is concrete and glass
has a 500-gallon pool
has a single, small den
has limited vegetation
The river otters' exhibit after renovations:
will be 1500 square feet
will be located on the "upper pond"
will have a 6000-gallon pool with a stream and new filtration system
will have a mud-bath area
will have plants, underbrush, and rocks
will have three dens and multiple hiding spots
will have improved, interpretative signs
The bobcats' habitat currently:
is located near train tracks
is 200 square feet
is concrete-and-steel cage
has elevated, wooden benches for perching
The bobcats' habitat after renovations:
will be located near the tree-canopy walkway
will be 1000 square feet
will have rock ledges, plants, and trees
will give cats a dominant position on the rocks, above the visitors
The mountain lion's habitat currently:
is located near the train tracks
is 350 square feet
is a concrete-and-steel cage
The mountain lion's habitat after renovations:
will be placed near the tree-canopy walkway
will be 1300 square feet
will incorporate rock ledges, plants, and trees
will provide improved caretaker access
The primates' habitat now:
is concrete and glass with outdoor access
has branches for horizontal runs
has poor public viewing
houses two species of endangered primates
The primates' habitat later:
will be concrete and glass with bark mulch, plants, and shrubs
will have skylights
will have improved viewing spots
will be multi-species (with turtles and snakes) where appropriate
The eagle aviary now:
is located next to the playground
has concrete walls, aluminum beams, and vinyl-coated chicken wire
has branch and rope perches
The eagle aviary later:
will be located along the wooded entrance from parking lot
will have a forest floor with mesh enclosure
will incorporate existing trees and foliage for perching
will have a "rustic appearance" with a stone-wall barrier
The snowy owl aviary now:
is located next to the parking lot
is a steel cage with concrete floor
has branch perches
The snowy owl aviary later:
will be located along the wooded entrance from parking lot
will have a forest floor with mesh enclosure
will incorporate existing trees and foliage for perching
will have a stone-wall barrier
Kristen Lombardi can be reached at klombardi[a]phx.com.