To the untrained eye, the zoo is simply a place where animals live. Meet the woman who sees what you don’t. by Paige Gray
The sun finally breaks winter’s long, cruel hold and blesses the grounds of Chicago’s Lincoln Park Zoo with a golden benediction. A girl barely old enough to walk sneaks under a fence to catch a closer glimpse of salmon-colored preening flamingos. An elderly couple, hand in hand, watches a Tibetan deer uses his immense antlers to maneuver a barrel around for some afternoon entertainment. Around the polar bear pool, a boy in a red ski cap jumps up and down, and yells in a thick Chicago accent, “Hey Ma, if we jumped in the water would we die ’cause the polar bears would eat us?”
And in front of a gorilla display at the Lester E. Fisher Center for the Study and Conservation of Apes stands Dr. Lisa Faust.
Like the vistors, she stares past the glass, captivated. With her blond hair barely touching her shoulders and her layman’s clothes, she looks like just another tourist, buoyant and youthful, smitten by the wonder. But while most visitors are drawn to a young child-ape playfully swinging from artificial vine to artificial vine, Lisa’s pale, intelligent blue eyes wander with a scientist’s scrutinizing gaze.
Indeed, Faust looks at these exhibits differently then the surrounding groups of students, young children, couples and families. They see an adorable, playful ape baby clowning on a vine. Lisa sees one small part of a much larger whole, a single family of apes in a whole populations. She see’s vast velds of mammals interacting, moving, migrating, communicating. Not just one baby ape, but tens of thousands.
Faust works and researches at Lincoln Park Zoo as a population biologist. Her job and research are complicated, but simply put, Lisa studies the growth and decline of certain animal populations to determine their future chances of survival.
It’s serious, heady, highly complex stuff, the kind that keeps her behind a computer many days. Still, in a flash, the serious scientist in her gives way to a little girl’s enthusiasm.
“Did you see the baby takin?” she prods John, her boyfriend and park zookeeper, referring to the newest addition to the zoo family, a rare yake-like Asian antelope species.
When they arrive at the exhibit, Baby, alas, has alredy been put away for the day. “But there’s the male!” Lisa gushes. “He’s pretty.”
From a young age, Lisa felt a passion for animals beyond the average child. She was the girl who always scooped up warty toads from the creek with her bare hands while other girls squealed in disgust.
“By the time Lisa was five or six, she was the one who would run down to the garden and pick up the frog or grass snake that had been discovered; her siblings were heading in the other direction,” recalls Ron Faust, Lisa’s father. Growing up with her parents, an older sister, Jennifer, and a younger brother John, Lisa relished her childhood, spending all the time she could with animals. She would sleep every night with one of her cats lying on her chest, the cat’s arms stretched up to Lisa’s neck. She whiled the hours away playing with bunnies and rabbits and caring for Archie, the family’s aging pony. Though too old to ride, Lisa found almost as much pleasure in simply brushing his hair and watching him graze through the pasture.
As she grew older, her amusement grew into a deep fascination. Travel introduced Lisa to the sheer diversity of animal life. Anytime the family went somewhere, Lisa begged to go to the nearest zoo or aquarium. A trip to the San Diego Zoo changed everything. San Diego’s large animal wild life park awed Lisa; she loved how the animals ran free throughout the park’s premises. It gave her a more realistic image of wildlife in a natural habitat.
Then the Faust family,including the 10-year-old Lisa, visited Hawaii..
“We went on a whale watch, and then I got whale crazy and wanted to be a marine biologist,” Lisa recalls. The exact moment of her sudden inspiration came with a whale breaching—the sleek mammal leaping completely out of the water then crashing back down in a cannonball splash—off the shore by their hotel. Lisa thought she found her career. Instead of spending her money on clothes or music like many girls her age, Lisa saved her allowance and baby-sitting money to join the Pacific Whale Foundation. “I wanted to study whales and do all that stuff, the whole ‘Save the Whales’ thing,” she says.
During her undergraduate years at Grinnell College, Lisa enrolled in different biology courses, unsure of what path to choose, but knowing she wanted to study animals not medicine. She discovered an interest in ecology. “I liked thinking about what’s happening with animal behavior and what’s happening with an entire population. The conservation biology aspects were really attractive to me . . . but I didn’t know exactly what all that meant.”
To find out, Lisa secured an internship doing whale research. It was good experience, she says, but made her realize it wasn’t really for her. She didn’t like that all of the research data came from underwater. For her, the only rush came in the few moments whales would come to the surface to breathe. “It was frustrating. We see about 10 percent of whales’ lives— the rest of the time they’re underwater.”
Eventually, she landed an internship at Lincoln Park Zoo researching a population biology project and “got hooked” to the vast challenge of tracking sexes, births, deaths and pedigrees in different animal populations.
Dr. Joanne Earnhardt, director of the Alexander Center for Applied Population Biology first met Lisa as an intern in the very Bronte-esque attic setting of their former office. “Lisa was literally in the rafters with the other intern students,” Earnhardt remembers. “She had one of the toughest projects—very computer-intensive and detail-oriented.”
In that particular project, Lisa worked with Earnhardt on to track male versus female births. The project required compounding data of many captive populations, focusing on births, deaths and growth rate over a period of time. All the information would then be stored in a database.
“I thought, ‘Wow, there is just a ton of data here to answer [ecological, biological] questions.’ I also sort of thought ‘Wow, its sort of nice to not have to be the person who is out in the field, collecting all this data.’ Especially from a population biologist’s standpoint; you want lots of years of data collected.”
Data sets may not inspire the thrill of a playful baby ape, but Lisa sees beyond the numbers to whole worlds of baby apes — and takins and gorillas. Lisa sees whole worlds. And how those worlds must be protected.
“We have a responsibility to, as much as we can, protect and conserve, not only a species, but an ecological system, a set of ecological relationships,” Lisa says. “I would be terribly sad if all the tigers were in zoos because I don’t think that is conserving tigers. It is conserving a species but not conserving [the environment] it evolved in. So I really think we have a responsibility, especially because we are the source of a lot of threats to those populations in the wild. We have a responsibility, when it is feasible, to make a change.”
This attitude secured Lisa a job at the Alexander Center after her internship and some time spent with AmeriCorps. Since then, she also completed her PhD from University of Illinois-Chicago, enabling her to be “taken more seriously” as a scientist.
“Lisa’s dedication is amazing to us,” Ron Faust says. “She works so hard on her research, her presentations, and her publications. Career is number one for Lisa. It took serious dedication to get her PhD completed as quickly as she did it while still holding down her job at the zoo the whole time.”
Equally rewarding was the chance for Lisa to travel to Tanzania in 2005 to actually see the elephant populations she had been researching on paper.
Collaborating with field researcher Charles Foley and his wife Lara, Lisa concentrated on a population study concerning the affects of elephant poaching on elephant family and group dynamics. Located in the heart of the Tarangire National Park, Lisa’s workspace transformed from a sterile building on the zoo grounds into an endless room lined with carpets of savannah grasses and walls of baobabs—massive, thick, trees that appear as if they’re upside down, with the branches looking like roots growing vertically.
Mornings in Tanzania began with an elephant search. Climbing into Foley’s Toyota SUV, Lisa and Foley would head out in hot pursuit of these enormous creatures, the largest living land species, standing up to 13 ft. and weighing sometimes 15,000 lbs. If either Foley or Lisa spotted little gray shapes off in the distance, Foley would veer off the path into the brush of the park and head toward the elephants. Recognizing Foley, the elephants would not run off, but occasionally would act out and do a fake charge or flap their vast ear out at them.
Foley named all the elephants, and Lisa familiarized herself with all their information as well as Foley’s personal stories and encounters with them.
“It was pretty cool driving up to Ophelia’s group,” Lisa says, after hearing numerous accounts of this matriarch. “When you see them, especially when you drive up to them, you’re at car level and they still just tower above you . . . [The first sighting] was pretty indescribable— just to anticipate it for so long and then see them up close and fairly oblivious to our car. One of my favorite sightings was when we came up to a very large male and a family group; the male was near a tree by the side of the road, and put his trunk and forehead against the tree and pushed it, and a ton of seeds rained down from the tree. He pushed the trunk a few more times, and then ambled around to the road and started picking up all the seeds, which were probably the size of coffee beans, up with his trunk. Smart guy.”
The hands-on research and exposure gave Lisa the chance to see her work materialize in front of her, and better understand the logistics of field research itself.
“I had seen the excel sheets with the data — which calves belonged to which mother, their estimated birth rates, and all those sorts of things — but I had never [seen the process] of collecting all this data.”
The days in Tanzania rolled by on the African savannah, surrounded by elephants, lions, giraffes, zebras and the occasional cheetah – sometimes coming almost close enough to touch. Some days, Lisa spent time naming elephants with Foley. A ‘Lisa’ elephant runs through the grasses of Tarangerie today. Other days, Lisa would try, and eventually succeed, in convincing Foley to use a system to organize all his data (“Of course I freaked out when I realized he had no back up”). As someone who deciphers patterns and numbers, Lisa requires strict methodology and orderliness. Besides the actual field research, flat tires, wet roadways and power outages played supporting roles in Lisa’s African production. But, eventually it was time to make the return trip to the zoo, taking with her an experience of a lifetime, but more importantly, bringing home useful information for her larger population studies.
“We really don’t know which species we need to save without understanding which species are declining,” Lisa says, explaining the necessity of population biology. “We can’t just pick where to focus our conservation energy and resources randomly — we need to know something about a population’s dynamics to know whether it’s at risk of extinction. Ignoring such studies might mean that we spend money on populations that are actually pretty secure, or we let a population decline to a point it can’t recover from, or we let a population expand to the point that it threatens other populations around it, including humans.”
In her studies, Lisa determines which species are thriving or declining. She must understand if species face the danger of overpopulation, which threatens other ecosystems, or if they face extinction.
Back at Lincoln Park Zoo, Lisa can now pour over her statistical data, comparing and contrasting population growth and decline. But the compiled, completed work fits into the grand scheme of the things, a “circle of life.”
“It is a pretty big piece, this question of population dynamics,” Lisa says.
The professional growth Lisa has made since coming to the zoo has proven to be an invaluable asset, colleagues note.
“Lisa has changed so much since taking her first job at Lincoln Park Zoo,” says Steve Thompson, head of the zoo’s conservation and science department. “She has always been thorough, well-organized, and meticulous with respect to projects and her research. However, as she progressed through her career — and graduate school — she not only became an excellent scientist, and an expert in demography — she became a leader.”
Lisa also realizes this coming-of-age since first coming to the zoo eight years ago. While earning her PhD, she admits to having no life outside the school and the zoo. Lisa pushed herself around the clock yet remained unsure of what to do with her education and experience. But with each year, with evolving confidence and knowledge, she slowly came to discover her role.
“When I first came I knew I was interested in zoos, and in conservation biology, but really had no distinct picture on how I wanted to pursue either of those as a career,” Lisa says. “The first few years when I was working as an assistant in the department, I learned so much about population biology, demography, and the way that zoo management works, and I really enjoyed it. As I went further in grad school and continued in the research, I started to slowly realize that I was one of “the experts” for some of this stuff in the zoo world—and people started coming to me as the expert. At first it was a little scary, but now it’s sort of an exciting role to fill.”
Without researchers like Lisa, zoos might not exist. They must uncover how animals interact with their own species and other species; they must consider the complex questions the everyday zoo visitor neglects. Lisa envisions zoos as having many purposes and functions. While a trip to the zoo provides an afternoon of family amusement, it can be something of much greater significance.
Beaming, animated children skip out of the penguin house, ready to explore and study a new animal and habitat. Attractive, college-aged couples jog across the grounds, taking in the sights and sounds of bufflehead ducks and harbor seals. The squirrels that inhabit zoo grounds may perhaps be the healthiest and happiest in the country. Plump and fluffy, one squirrel hangs from a man’s arm after eating food from his hand. Within this idyllic place lies a trove of buried treasure, purpose and potential.
“Zoos really serve three roles,” Lisa says, as she starts in on explaining a type of zoo mission statement, seemingly part of her livelihood. The first, Lisa explains, is the role of conservation and research, her forte. Behavioral study and research helps inform other scientists and the general public, and secures funding necessary for the zoo and further research. The second responsibility of a zoo therefore becomes education. “The zoo plays such an important role between people and animals, as well as kids and biology, kids and the diversity of life,” Lisa says. “Most of these children are never going to go to Africa and see a zebra in the wild. Even the farm animals—so many of the kids have never even seen farm animals because the live in the city. It is important to have a connection with these things; the world is not made up of urban environments.” The third role, of course, falls under the guise of entertainment, but Lisa believes education slips in here too. The value of advancing the zoo’s message and magnitude extends to every facet of Lisa’s life. She constantly reaches out to others in her field, trying to make them see what she sees.
“Maybe because her experience as an intern here was so positive and is still vivid she is a strong supporter of having interns in our department,” says Earnhardt. “She mentors them in all aspects of the job and their future careers.” Thompson also acknowledges Lisa’s contributions and her development as a scientist. “I am very proud of Lisa. She took her time, figured out what she wanted to do, worked toward it, and achieved the PhD while at the same time carving a niche for herself at the zoo,” Thompson says. “It’s always wonderful when a student makes the transition to colleague; it’s even better when he or she becomes better at something than the mentor: I now turn to Lisa for help with many aspects of demography and population biology.”
Lisa strolls past the various animal exhibits— the center for apes, the Regenstein African Journey, the Regenstein Small Mammal-Reptile House, and returns to her office in the zoo conservation building. Lisa stands out as one of the lucky ones among us; she is doing exactly what she wants to do — living her dream, one might say. She contributes in her own way to help animals, to preserve our eco-system.
“I’m not a field researcher; I know I wouldn’t want to devote my life to that. I collect data.” The reward for Lisa lies with finding and decoding the population patterns among species. She can ‘barometer’ a species, by looking at numbers over a period of time, gaining an understanding you cannot achieve in daily field research.
Not many people can say they’ve achieved what they have always wanted for themselves, even if that goal wasn’t exactly clear when a young Lisa muddied herself up to catch frogs.
Not many people can say they have a young elephant named after them running around Africa, either.
Though biased by his love for his daughter, Ron Faust may describe her role best.
“Lisa has taken her interest in animals all the way. It’s one thing to get into animals as a hobby and for many people animals are a number one avocation,” he says. “It’s quite another thing to dedicate all your effort into getting all the tools that might possibly help you answer real, scientific questions about animals and the survival of species on earth. Lisa has done this. Lisa can do a research project and finish it and get it written; in science and medicine, this is hard and not everybody can do all the steps. It’s difficult to predict what science will offer us in the future, but I believe Lisa has the tools and dedication to save a species someday.”
At the gorilla exhibit, children huddle around the glass, pushing in front of one another, each one trying to catch a glimpse of the human-like creatures, opposable thumbs and all. Lisa stands above the grade-schoolers, seeing more than just a gorilla.
What does she see?
Lisa sees pieces of a much larger puzzle, understanding these various animal exhibits represent the parts to the much larger whole of conservation— supporting and saving our ecosystem, species by species. Lisa puts herself behind the scenes at Lincoln Park Zoo; she doesn’t handle the animals, she handles the numbers. But these numbers reveal new questions, new answers and new worlds.
One Comment
I thought this was a wonderful article. Made the research very real and relevant, and written so you felt like you were with Lisa and seeing things through her eyes!