In a town populated by uniquely interesting people, she still manages to stand out in the crowd.

This week’s Doer, #434, combines a wild and wide-ranging intelligence with a fire in her belly that won’t quit: her mission is no less than promoting science literacy for young and old, locally and globally. Stop waving your geek banner: Nana Naisbitt is someone you would find locked in a room fixated on her computer. She is an author, visionary and the driving force behind the Pinhead Institute and now the Telluride Science Research Center.

Nana has had articles published in Time Magazine, Fast Company, Whole Earth Catalog and was a contributing writer to an article in American Scholar. She has appeared on the Leher News Hour, BBC World Service, and NPR, and has spoken at the Smithsonian Institute in Washington, D.C., the California Academy of Sciences, Peking University, New York’s 92nd Street “Y,” the National University in Taiwan and the Commonwealth Club in San Francisco. For her writings on natural history, Nana was honored with the title “Smithsonian Research Collaborator.”

Proving the naysayers wrong – they were sure Telluride did not need another education-based nonprofit in their community – in 2002, Nana founded the Pinhead Institute, the first Smithsonian Affiliate in Colorado, to connect people of all ages to the natural world by demystifying science. Very quickly, there was a loyal following cheering her on.

Under Nana’s guidance, Pinhead became a highly respected local institution out there kicking some serious butt.

Programs such as Punk Science for kids and Town Talks for adults pack the house to the rafters. There are successful joint ventures with the Telluride Historical Museum and the Telluride Academy. Pinhead’s internship program sends ten high school interns annually into the real world of science to conduct research at the Smithsonian Institution, the California Academy of Sciences, and many other venerable venues.

Pinhead’s schedule also includes a Bear Creek Stewardship program. Celebrating Biodiversity through Art and Science makes it possible for kids to express what they have learned about science through art.

“By the time I stepped down as Pinhead’s executive director at the end of 2006, we were serving 1,800 kids in Nucla, Norwood, Naturita, Ouray, Ridgway, and Telluride.”

Earlier this month, Pinhead hosted its second annual fundraiser, Geek Fest, easily the best party of the summer season.

The wide cross-section of the community who showed up in support reflects Pinhead’s broad-based appeal. Everyone danced until around midnight – including Nana, who was there shaking her tail feathers in her relatively new capacity as the executive director of the Telluride Science Research Center. Nana officially began her new job in January 2007, but since Pinhead and TSRC are joined at the hip, the change will have little impact on the community at large. Two executive directors working side by side will simply help maximize the potential of both institutions.

To clarify the relationship, think of Pinhead as TSRC’s voice in the community, the better-known brand, and TSRC as a brain trust that supplies Pinhead with most of its program leaders/speakers.

TSRC is also an economic engine for the community. TSRC represents a loose network of 1,200 international scientists in an array of disciplines, including physics, chemistry, medical research and geo-sciences.” These scientists decide independently to organize workshops and are responsible for inviting participants to town, then TSRC steps in to facilitate lodging, meeting venues, and food. “Unlike a number of other conference providers, TSRC does not dictate how an organizer holds a meeting: We make it happen the way they want it to happen. Everyone appreciates the intellectual freedom and the opportunity to explore Telluride, so TSRC is growing.”

When Nana held a party for 180 physicists this past June, she hired a hula hooper and slack liner for the night’s entertainment and held the event in Town Park.

“We had Nobel Laureates hula hoping, I assure you for the first time in their lives. And having the event outdoors meant it would not be confused with your average banquet held in Miami. Part of my service is providing an authentic local, fun, experience that is a real departure from the day-to-day schedule of our guest scientists.”

This summer, TSRC hosted a record number of scientists, 430 in all, who participated in 12 different workshops, each lasting a week or two to help shape the direction of their collective fields. “Here they share their frustrations more than their eurekas.”

TSRC ‘s organizational structure includes a board of directors comprised of 15 scientists. The chair and co-chair also serve as president and president elect, respectively. The current president is Dr. John Straub, a visionary with a head for business and administration. “John is fabulous to work for and he has participated in almost every Pinhead program, enhancing the symbiotic relationship between our two organizations.”

Dr. Stephen Berry and Dr. Peter Salamon founded TSRC in 1984. The organization was facilitated by the Telluride Academy until 2002, when Pinhead and Nana took over the administration.

As executive director, Nana’s job description includes everything from marketing the organization to overseeing its growth. She also manages all aspects of the operation, including the summer staff.

“The most fun is organizing and hosting the Town Talks. Serving coffee is ok, but asking questions is better. Through the Town Talks, I get to be a student every week. I have to come up to speed on topics ranging from quantum computing to nuclear energy in order to write the PR and interview presenters.” Scientists have given talks in town since the 1980s, but when Nana commandeered the program, attendance went through the roof.

“Town Talks continue to be a collaborative effort between TSRC and Pinhead, so, for example, when there are no TSRC scientists in town, we mine the natural sciences for speakers.”

Through the Pinhead Town Talks, Nana has organized and hosted more than 60 public science lectures in Telluride, attracting audiences of up to 350. Nana tips her hat to the Mountain Village for supporting the Town Talks. Nana’s path to her current job was long and winding and not at all intuitive: “As a girl, I avoided science like the plague.” Things started shifting when Nana was a student at the University of Chicago, forced to take a year of science. “I had an archaeology professor who deviated from the curriculum. Instead of making us memorize bone types, he showed us slides of archeological sites and described conflicting theories about a shard here or a bone there. His ideas, however, were always the most interesting. I realized then that science is fundamentally storytelling, like every other discipline and approaching science that way means anyone can comprehend and appreciate science.”

Another shift occurred when Nana collaborated with her father on “High Tech, High Touch,” a book about scientific frontiers and associated issues such as the impact of technology on humanity. “At the time, we could not avoid the emergence of genetic technology. I resisted and resisted, but one particularly active researcher kept pushing back. When I started reading reams of articles about science, at first I fell asleep, however, slowly but surely I became interested. “

By the time the book was published, Nana had grown unhappy about the way she had been taught science in school and was eager to make up for lost time. “I began wondering if I could find a way, perhaps use what I had learned about storytelling, to make science more accessible and less scary for kids and adults who are at home in the humanities camp.”

Nana also came to believe that a basic understanding of science was a fundamental responsibility of every citizen. “If you can’t tell the difference between science and pseudo-science, you are vulnerable to manipulation.” Having written High Tech, High Touch, Nana suddenly knew dozens of scientists. One of those scientists, entomologist Terry Erwin, encouraged her to set up a Smithsonian Affiliation. Pinhead was officially open for business in 2002, although programs began in 2001.

Nana’s decision to make a lateral move to TSRC was based on her desire to become “location independent” and also to maximize TSRC’s potential: “We could easily attract 1,000 scientists annually and expand the winter workshop schedule. For the town, a growth like that could has an major economic impact,dumping about $1,000 per scientist per week into the local economy.”

Nana’s growth plan includes an emphasis at TSRC on chemistry. “Currently, similar science organizations are largely devoted to physics, like the Aspen Center for Physics and the Santa Fe Institute. If TSRC succeeds in becoming a center for chemistry, there is potential for major funding from the National Science Foundation.”

For now, Nana says scientists return home from Telluride inspired to do better science and most return every other year. In addition to her work for Pinhead, Nana now serves on the Telluride Ecology Commission.

DOER: Nana Naisbitt, Author, visionary and entrepreneur at the helm at TSRC

By Susan Viebrock

Time in Town: Nine years
Age/Place of Birth: Old enough already, born and raised in the city of Chicago
Marital Status: Unmarried
Philosophy of Life: Take the circuitous route
Favorite Books: Lolita, Botany of Desire
Favorite Movies: Amélie, Pan’s Labyrinth
Favorite Music/Musicians: Motown & Prince
If I Could Change One Thing About Myself: I’d be less critical
Favorite Retreat: By a river
A Really Perfect Day: Camping in Canyonlands on New Year’s eye
Favorite Hangout: My front porch
Most Influenced By: My children
Favorite Childhood Memory: Pork fat
Friends in School Thought: Chubby and weird
If I Could Be Something Else: Braver
Person I’d Like Most to Meet: Shakespeare
Actor Who Would Play Me: Mini me
When I Grow Up I Want to Be: A writer
I Would Almost Never: Blow a snot rocket in public
How I Got Here From There: As a little kid in Washington DC, I grew up thinking that whites were a minority and worried Russia would drop an atomic bomb on our heads. Some years later, in the south side of Chicago, I thought that revolution erupting in my neighborhood was inevitable. Rape was common, so was murder, and Mayor Daley ordered, “Shoot to kill.” My brother got held up at gunpoint when he was five, for pocket change. Gangs appearing out of nowhere on the street was not uncommon. Sometimes I knew some of them, and they protected me from more unseemly predators. School was no safer than the streets. Basically, the world was a hostile place and my four siblings and I grew more alert than we might have wanted to. Telluride is a safe haven that I love. It’s a reality I prefer.

Besides my three children, one of things I am most proud of is my 10 years at the University of Chicago. No PhD, no masters, just a B.A. I waitressed, went to school, cleaned houses, traveled to far off places, and repeated the cycle umpteen many times. Rory was born the same year I graduated, the same year I got married, the same year I opened a retail store on Clark Street. That was 1984. There was a time I was one of Chicago’s fashion trendsetters (I know, that is impossible to believe looking at me now) and worked briefly in advertising, then a consulting firm that resembled the CIA. I lived in just about every neighborhood in the city until I succeeded in extricating myself from the clutches of urban life and moved to Telluride, where I had visited twice annually since Rory birth.

The work I do now in Telluride is very glamorous indeed; it includes serving coffee and donuts, and occasionally asking science questions in public. Schlepping groceries to the Intermediate school to feed hungry scientists takes most of my time in the summer in my role as director of the Telluride Science Research Center. My job is akin to “den mother.” For amusement, I collect stories in my head about all the weird things scientists do. Discarding a wet teabag on top of a stack of clean paper napkins, oblivious, is an example. Oblivious may be the operative word. But really, I like my scientists very much. They remind me of my uncle and all the professors I had.

Then there’s the real job of being a mom. Occasionally I get mom-ed out. That’s when you’ll find me at the Buck. Rory, Lily, and Jake Sullivan, my fiery children, keep me honest and laughing.

Favorite Article of Clothing: All the clothes I’ve lost at Blues and Brews
What I Can't Bear To Throw Out: My grandmother’s river rocks
Last Purchase: Kayak lessons
Greatest Indulgence: Dark chocolate and red wine
Most Prized Possession: Himalayan glacier dust, dried soybeans from Japan, seaweed from Oregon
Weirdest Artifact/Collectible I Have Accumulated Over Time: See above
Favorite Phrase: olliollioceanfree. Least Favorite Phrase: “Bag a peak” and “trad”
Fitness Routine: Follow my hot boyfriend up a mountain
Accomplishment I am Most Proud Of: Raising three independent, wonderful children
Wildest Dream: Not working
Biggest Challenge: Quieting my mind
Bottom Line:

www.telluridescience.org
www.pinheadinstitute.org
nana@telluridescience.org

PO Box 2429
970-708-0004