HATW

December 8, 2021 by Erin Southerland

Climate Change Never Takes A Holiday: The Phenomenon of the Pizzly Bear

by Nicholas Sauer

three polar bears in the snow — Polar bears. Photo by Hans-Jurgen Mager on Unsplash

At this time of year, you’re apt see TV commercials in which cuddly and good-natured polar bears share delicious colas with one another in the spirit of the season. However, neither the mythology nor reality surrounding polar bears—nor bears in general—are quite so idyllic. Even their scientific names possess an element of menace and foreboding. Ursus arctos horribilis—the grizzly—speaks for itself. Ursus maritimus—the polar bear—hints that this predator is as much at home hunting its prey in water as it is on the Arctic ice. In fact, polar bears can swim for several days without stopping.

Throughout history these creatures have inspired fear in the heart of many a human. Members of the Lewis and Clark Expedition were shocked that none of their party were devoured by grizzlies in the Pacific Northwest. Some Renaissance cartographers labeled the mysterious Arctic realms: hic sunt ursi albi, or “here be white bears” (dragons are overrated anyway). Other Europeans of that era drew polar bears as if they were enormous white wolves with serpentine tails.

The stark whiteness of the polar bear fascinated Ishmael, the narrator of Herman Melville’s 1851 classic Moby Dick: “The irresponsible ferociousness of the creature stands invested in the fleece of celestial innocence and love; and hence, by bringing together two such opposite emotions in our minds, the Polar bear frightens us with so unnatural a contrast.” The white whale of the novel is terrifying in much same way—that such a beast should be the hue of angelic robes is overwhelming to Ishmael. Coincidently, try thinking of Moby Dick as a creature feature, and I bet you won’t find it as intimidating and esoteric a read (it worked for me).

Grizzly and polar bears have often been misinterpreted and sensationalized by their human neighbors. However, the scientific community in recent decades has begun to regard these two species of bear as complex and vulnerable creatures of great power. Indigenous populations in North America have long understood this. Specifically, the Inuit revere the polar bear for its human-like traits. For instance, both species hunt with patience and intelligence, are capable of play, and demonstrate maternal devotion to cubs.

Climate Change and Pizzly Bears

Regrettably, climate change is rapidly altering the Arctic ecosystem, putting the polar bears’ long-term future in jeopardy. Polar bears have a highly specialized diet, consisting mainly of seals. Sea ice has long provided the bears with a seal hunting platform, and its late formation and early melt creates progressively more difficult conditions for these bears to hunt their favorite blubbery menu item. Diminished ice cover has forced them to search out other food sources including garbage left behind by humans. In their quest for food, polar bears have come into increased contact with Inuit communities, sometimes resulting in human fatalities. In addition to these confrontations, polar bears are increasingly crossing paths with grizzly bears within the expanding overlap of each species’ geographic range. Polar bears and grizzlies are not so genetically distant from each other to preclude hybridization, and in 2006 the scientific community found that the bears do breed together in the wild. Their shared progeny are known as pizzlies, or grolar bears (which name do you like better?).

Grizzly bear. Image by Princess Lodges via Flickr.

Grizzly bears dominate the territory that they share with polar bears because they are better adapted to the varied climate, terrain, and available food sources. Unlike polar bears, grizzlies follow an opportunistic diet that includes plant tubers and carrion in addition to live prey. Paleontologist Larisa DeSantis of Vanderbilt University posits that the hybrid pizzlies may possess modified skulls and teeth that could plausibly allow them to adopt the indiscriminate feeding habits of the grizzly bear. However, DeSantis points out that the hybrid bears also lose some of the abilities of their parents; for example, pizzlies are not as adept at swimming as their polar bear forbears.

The twin fear among scientists is that 1) the number of polar bears will dwindle, and 2) hybridization will increase to such an extreme that polar bears will be one day be subsumed into the general grizzly population. The polar bear may face extinction over the next century if nothing is done to conserve the species. Much remains to be discovered about the hybridization of polar bears and grizzlies. What we do know for sure is that pizzlies are a product of profound environmental instability and crisis. Polar bears may star in heartwarming commercials during the holidays—but these creatures and their ecosystem are in grave danger of a different kind of warming, one associated with climate change.

Nicholas Sauer is a Gallery Experience Presenter in CMNH’s Life Long Learning Department. Museum staff, volunteers, and interns are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.

References

“Bears on the Lewis and Clark Expedition.” America’s Library. Accessed 29 Sept. 2021. <http://www.americaslibrary.gov/aa/lewisandclark/aa_lewisandclark_bears_2.html>.

Casselman, Anne. “Longest Polar Bear Swim Recorded—426 Miles Straight.” National Geographic. 22 July 2011. <https://www.nationalgeographic.com/science/article/110720- polar-bears-global-warming-sea-ice-science-environment>.

Cockburn, Harry. “Climate crisis pushing polar bears to mate with grizzlies, producing hybrid ‘pizzly’ bears.” The Independent. 15 April 2021. <https://www.independent.co.uk/climate-change/news/pizzly-bear-polar-grizzly-hybrid-b1831847.html>.

Engelhard, Michael. “How Polar Bears Became the Dragons of the North.” Smithsonian Magazine. 31 May 2017. <https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/polar-bears- dragons-of-the-north-180963502/>.

Melville, Herman. Moby-Dick; or The Whale. 1851. Project Gutenberg. Accessed 29 Sept. 2021. <https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2701/2701-h/2701-h.htm#link2HCH0042>.

“Polar Bear Figurine.” Bristol’s Free Museums and Historic Houses. Accessed 29 Sept. 2021. <https://museums.bristol.gov.uk/narratives.php?irn=11245>.

Strong, Walter. “It’s no surprise for Inuit — Baffin Bay polar bears defy past assumptions with stable population.” CBC. 3 March 2020. <https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/north/baffin-bay-polar-bears-nunavut-1.5472492>.

Tien, Caroline. “Polar Bear-Grizzly Bear Hybrids Likely to Become More Common Thanks to Climate Change.” Newsweek. 29 April 2021. <https://www.newsweek.com/polar-bear-grizzly-bear-hybrids-likely-become-more-common-thanks-climate-change-1587568>.

Ruthie the Red-Nosed Reindeer: The Natural History Behind Some Classic Christmas Carols

by Shelby Wyzykowski

We all know Dasher and Dasher and Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen. But do you recall the most famous reindeer of all? It’s Ruthie the red-nosed reindeer of course! No, that definitely does not sound quite right, does it. There is no Ruthie in the traditional song that we all know and love. The lead reindeer that guides Santa’s sleigh on that foggy Christmas Eve should be Rudolph, a boy, not Ruthie, a girl. Or so the song says. There are several widely known Christmas carols that incorporate animals into their lyrical stories. They are songs that many people know by heart and faithfully sing year after year. But have you ever taken the time to stop and really think about the ways in which wildlife are portrayed in these melodic tales? Are these stories scientifically accurate accounts that hold true to the realities of the natural world? Or are they simply lyrical flights of holiday fancy?

The Twelve Days of Christmas

“The Twelve Days of Christmas”, first published in England in 1780, is a carol that documents a very long list of gifts that a true love gives to their sweetheart over a period of twelve days. By the end of the ballad, the lucky giftee receives 184 birds, more than enough to open their own aviary. The large, feathered flock of six different avian species includes a partridge in a pear tree (twelve times over).

gray partridge on snowy ground — Gray Partridge. Image by Ekaterina Chernetsova (Papchinskaya) via Flickr.

A partridge in a pear tree would not be the most ideal gift since, not only would gift wrapping be a challenge, but it might not be possible to find such a gift. Do partridges even roost in pear trees? Though the iconic image of a treed fowl paints a pretty yuletide picture, it is not a natural occurrence in the real world. In North America, two species of partridge introduced as game birds have well-established populations. The Gray Partridge (Perdix perdix), a native of Europe, can be found in northern prairies, where it roosts and forages mostly on the ground, at the bases of shrubs, and, during winter, on the snow. The Chukar Partridge (Alectoris chukar), a native of Eurasia, inhabits the arid American West, where it roosts beneath sagebrush, under juniper trees, in rock outcrops, or in open rocky areas. Not only do both species build their nests exclusively on the ground, they are also both primarily seed-eaters (but they do enjoy the occasional leaf or insect). So, pears as a food source are of no real interest to either type of partridge.

swan on the water — Mute Swan. Image by Charles J. Sharp, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons.

Among the many other birds this carol features are the “swans a-swimming”. If your beloved happens to be an avian enthusiast, the Mute Swan just could be the most fitting of gifts on the seventh day of Christmas. These birds have traditionally been associated with romance because of their graceful swimming and their long and beautifully curved S-shaped necks. They also mate for life, and paired couples tend to charmingly swim side by side. Native to Europe and parts of Asia, Mute Swans were brought to the United States as pond ornaments for private estates and have since gained a foothold in this country. Mute Swans, being very territorial, usually do not migrate and may be present at the same location all year round. They are very content living in icy cold weather if there is an abundant supply of food at hand. But can they swim in the blustery, inhospitable conditions of December, as this song claims? Surprisingly, the answer is yes. You would imagine that swimming in frigid waters would unmercifully freeze the feet of waterfowl, but swans and other waterfowl avoid this frosty fate by utilizing an intricate heat-exchange system called counter-current circulation. Through an intertwining of arteries and veins, the circulation system in the legs of these birds functions as a natural radiator. When arterial blood moving from the body to the feet passes alongside the venous blood returning from the feet to the body, heat is transferred from the warm arteries to the cool veins. This process keep’s the swan’s body at the right temperature while the extremities are still just warm enough to avoid tissue damage. There’s no doubt that if humans were gifted with this same circulatory trick, many a day of snow shoveling, and car cleaning would be made much more bearable!

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

One of the time-honored favorites of the season is “Walking in a Winter Wonderland,” the 1934 classic song about a couple’s romance during the holiday season. Though a snowman plays a prominent part in this tune, two types of bird are also mentioned.

bluebird on a branch — Eastern Bluebird. Image by Kelly Colgan Azar via Flickr.

The first is introduced into the musical story with the line “gone away is the bluebird.” This bluebird might symbolize the sadness that comes with being parted from a loved one. Or could it just literally mean that the songbird has left the wintry weather for warmer climes? Feathered with eye-catching plumage of bright azure and rust, the Eastern Bluebird (Sialia sialis) is found in many parts of our country during much of the year. However, as winter approaches, much of the population migrates to the southern U.S., with some members of the species flying as far south as Central America. Though they are occasionally seen in wintry weather, most do not return north again until February or March. So, if your own personal Winter Wonderland happens to be somewhere in the northern United States, the lyrics “gone away is the bluebird” are fairly accurate.

But what about the mysterious “new bird” that’s “here to stay” and sings a love song as the happy couple goes along? Some song aficionados suppose that the “new bird” represents the elation that two people share when starting their new life together. Others suggest that the unnamed bird is actually the stork, ready and waiting to eventually deliver a little bundle of joy. But storks cannot sing, can they? Well, no, not really. The Wood Stork is the only stork native to North America. It is a very large, heavy-billed bird that wades in the shallows of southern swamps, marshes, ponds, and lagoons. Adult storks are mostly silent except for the occasional hissing. They also can be heard bill clappering, which is when they make a loud, clattering sound by quickly opening and snapping shut their bills. But young storks do have a musical repertoire of sorts. Within stork breeding colonies, which are usually located in stands of tall cypress, nestlings will make a noisy ruckus as they beg for food. Their loud calls sound a bit nasally, kind of like a braying donkey. If the wood stork is in fact the “new bird”, his attempt at singing a love song would not be considered particularly romantic by many, unless you happen to be a lovesick donkey in search of a mate (as a side note, both male and female donkeys use bray vocalization during courtship).

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

Now let’s get back to the catchy 1949 jingle about the gutsy hooved hero whose red nose saved Christmas. The surprising truth about “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” is that these animals can actually have red noses! Reindeer have densely packed arrays of capillaries in their noses, which can sometimes cause them to appear pink. An excess flow of blood to their nose warms the air that they breathe in and can also help regulate their body temperature under extreme environmental conditions. To avoid overheating while running (or, in Rudolph’s case, flying) for long periods of time, large volumes of blood are brought to the nose where the excess heat can radiate out into the air.

Also, according to the song, male reindeers at the North Pole sport their antlers well into the darkest days of winter. But outside the boundaries of Santa’s domain, males begin to shed their antlers in late autumn after the fighting of rutting season has ended. Females retain their antlers well into the spring when their calves are born. Access to food is critical during their winter pregnancy, so they must use their antlers to defend patches of vegetation in small areas of cleared snow. Also, during the colder months, females are in better physical condition than males because they have much larger stores of energy. Females enter winter with about fifty percent body fat, whereas the fat percentage of males can dip as low as five percent. So, although there don’t seem to be any females helping to pull Santa’s heavy, gift-laden sleigh, rest assured that these ladies would be more than capable of taking on the task!

Natural History of Christmas Songs

So now we know the true story behind some of our favorite Christmas ditties. Storks don’t sing sweet songs of love. And you’ll never see a partridge anywhere near a pear tree, not at Christmas or at any other time of the year. Yet despite the scientific inaccuracies of these traditional holiday songs, we still unconditionally adore them for what they represent…the joyous and hopeful spirit of the season. But what about Rudolph? If the reindeer rules of winter favor females, how can we account for our red-nosed friend and all of the other males that make up Santa’s team? Well, perhaps we can attribute it to a little bit of Christmas magic at work. Maybe some seasonal miracle allows these reindeer to hang on to their antlers for just long enough so that they can take part in that worldwide flight on the big night. We can only guess, since it seems to be a closely guarded secret between Santa and his crew. They’re the only ones that know the whole story. But that’s okay, because, during the holiday season, do we always need to know why things happen the way that they happen? Probably not. Sometimes, it’s perfectly fine just to wonder and imagine and not know all the answers.

Because, sometimes, just believing is enough.

Shelby Wyzykowski is a Gallery Experience Presenter in CMNH’s Life Long Learning Department. Museum staff, volunteers, and interns are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.

A Hop, Skip, and a Stomp

The Lebanese are known for their love of music, songs, and dance. The most well-known and traditional Lebanese dance is called Dabkeh or “stomping of the feet.” It is a tradition that has been taught and passed down for centuries and has withstood the trials of migration as it lives on through the children of Lebanese immigrants.

painting of six people dancing in a line

The history of the Lebanese Dabkeh goes back to olden days when snow used to cover the roofs of the houses in the tight-knit Lebanese villages. The snowfall would be so great, that in order to protect the roofs of the houses from cracking, the villagers would form a line on the roofs and stomp on the snow/mud while yelling “Alawneh” which means “let’s go and help.” This then turned into “Ala Dalouna” and spurred many songs with that lyrics and title. The villagers had to be unified and on rhythm with their moves to effectively stomp the snow off. It wasn’t long before this practice, born out of necessity, turned into one of the richest aspects of Lebanese culture.

The villagers would stomp their feet to the music of the various woodwind and percussion instruments associated with the melodies of Dabkeh, like the mijwiz (double flute). Nowadays, the mijwiz is still the main instrument, in addition to the derbakeh (hand-held drum), that provides energetic beats to every spontaneous gathering in Dabkeh.

In a way, dancing Dabkeh helped those villagers stay warm through the bitter cold of the winter and sheds light on the innate characteristic of the Lebanese community to help one’s neighbor. We see that reflected beautifully in the Dabkeh line as it starts from right to left, with everyone holding hands, stomping their feet to the beat of the music, and keeping a unified rhythm. The world is our dance floor!

The standard Dabkeh step is rocking back and forth from your left foot, in the front, to your right and stomping your left foot twice. You can even spice up the basic steps with some hops and turns. Normally, the Dabkeh line has a leader who can make more artistic and difficult steps while holding a masbaha, or beads line, handkerchief, or stick, and controls the energy and tempo of the line. You could also be like me, and compliment or challenge the leader by being their second in line or dancing outside of the line altogether.

My holidays can usually be associated with beautiful random outbursts of song and dance and Dabkeh is at the center of it all. It may have begun in snow-piled villages but it has blossomed into a dance for all seasons and occasions. I dance Dabkeh holding the traditions of my people in my heart with the goal of sharing that lively energy with the rest of the world.

Tamara Alchoufete is a Work-Study student from the University of Pittsburgh and works in CMNH’s Section of Anthropology at the Edward O’Neil Research Center. Museum staff, volunteers, and interns are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.

Waddling in a Winter Wonderland: How Penguins, Humans, and other Animals Traverse Ice and Snow

Winter in Pennsylvania has it pros and cons. The not-so-wonderful aspects of the season, such as shoveling sidewalks and trudging through knee-deep snow drifts, can be considered character builders at best. But then there’s the fun stuff, like ice skating and sledding. These can more than make up for the negative things, especially if you’re a kid. As a child, I remember doing these winter activities (plus making snowmen and snow angels, too). A lot of the activities that we see as leisure fun have actually been around for thousands of years. Through invention and adaptation, both humans and animals have learned how to deal with their wintry landscapes and safely travel from one icy area to another.

Today, people associate ice skating with sports and recreation. But, for a long time in human history, skates were essential for winter travel. They date back at least 3,000 years to around the end of the Bronze Age, when the people of Eastern Europe and Russia created skates out of animals’ shin bones (most likely cow and horse). These bone skates lied flat to the ice so the wearer could glide in all directions. However, control and speed were somewhat lacking.

But a dramatic change happened in the 13^th century when the metal blade was introduced. Two hundred years later, better control and faster speed were achieved when sturdier bindings were added. Rapid travel was now possible during the cold winter months. In the 15^th century Netherlands, for example, the canals that were built to power water mills and irrigate farmland in the summer would transform into frozen highways for thousands of travelers in the winter.

Today, we no longer need to depend on nature because temperature-controlled ice rinks are at our disposal all year round. But, whether the ice is natural or man-made, scientists are still not 100% sure how ice skating is possible. There are multiple theories. One is that the extreme pressure of the skate blade on the ice creates a high viscosity bead of melt water that the skate glides on. Another theory says that the uppermost layer of ice is made up of an extremely thin (10-20 nanometers) layer of freely moving water molecules. The skate blade glides across this quasi-liquid layer. It’s very similar to the support provided by the surface tension of the top layer of liquid water. Whatever the reason that makes skating possible, people just know that they really like it. Skating is an extremely popular activity, especially as it relates to sports.

Athletes can prefer different temperatures and textures of ice. “Slow ice” is warmer, softer, and rougher, and figure skaters prefer it for pushing off and landing complicated jumps. In contrast, hockey players prefer “fast ice.” It’s colder, harder, and smoother, which makes skating faster, passing easier, and puck behavior more predictable.

And if you could equate a hockey player to any creature in the animal world, it would be a penguin. These experts of ice travel prefer “fast ice.” This is because they use tobogganing as a primary way to get around. The toboggan, a thin, flat, flexible piece of wood, has been used for centuries by humans as a transporter of supplies as well as for leisure fun. But, in the case of penguins, they themselves are the toboggan! Walking for penguins is slow-going. They can only waddle along at about 1.5 mph. With tobogganing, penguins can move faster with no risk of falling. On horizontal ice, they slide around on their bellies, using their flippers and feet for propulsion, steering, and braking. But when they find a nice downslope…stand back! Like tiny tuxedoed torpedoes, penguins can slide down an icy hill at surprising speeds.

While penguins love to take advantage of ice’s gliding properties, polar bears have developed adaptations that keep slipping and sliding to a minimum. The sole of a polar bear’s foot has thick, black pads that are covered with small, soft dermal bumps (also called papillae) that create friction between their foot and the ice. Long hairs growing between the pads and toes, plus curved claws, also provide traction. They are the only bears that walk in a plantigrade, heel-to-toe, manner. Their gait is almost human-like, with the one slight difference that their toes point inward to avoid slipping. Their forepaws are also similar in structure to a human hand, so much so that it would be difficult for the average person to tell the difference between the bones of a polar bear paw and the bones of a human hand. This round, flattened paw shape acts like a snowshoe that spreads out their weight as they move over the snow.

Polar bears aren’t the only animals adapted to walking on top of snow.

Thousands of years ago, large regions of the world were snowbound for much of the year, including North America. This meant animals needed to adapt to their environments; some of these animals are still around today, like the snowshoe hare, whose wide, furry, large-toed feet—larger than any other rabbit species— allowed them to move easily over deep snow.

Like the hare, the ptarmigan, a partridge-like grouse, also lives in North America and has its own set of built-in snowshoes. As winter approaches, its feet become more feathery and they grow longer claws. These seasonal changes increase the weight-bearing surface of their feet by four times and reduce sinking in the snow by half.

Caribou (also known as reindeer in Russia and Scandinavia) go through a similar transformation with the coming of winter. Their sharp-edged hooves grow longer, their foot pads get tougher, and extra fur grows between and around their toes. These changes transform their already wide, flat feet into the ideal snowshoe for a frosty trek. For animals such as these, developing coping strategies for cold weather transport are essential to surviving and thriving in a frozen landscape.

So this winter, if you just happen to be strolling along admiring the Narnia-esque view around you, and you fail to notice that patch of ice at your feet, you may end up flat on your back, staring up at the sky, wondering “Why me?” but don’t despair. Instead, take comfort in the fact that even penguins, the masters of the ice, slip and take spectacular spills from time to time. At least you’re in good company!

Tuscarora Nu Yah

NU YAH! NU YAH! NU YAH! The sounds of the New Year at Tuscarora Nation in western New York. For the past one hundred years and longer the Tuscarora have celebrated the New Year in a very unique way.

Three days before the new year our men go out on a hunting competition. Old men versus young men is the battle. It doesn’t matter if you are 60 and have no children you are considered a young man. Old men are considered anyone with children. Only the reservation boundaries are eligible for the hunt. Rabbits, pheasant, and deer beware this day our men are looking for game to slay for the New Year’s Feast.

The hunt takes place from sunup to sun down. At 8:00 p.m. sharp all game must be at the Old Gym for The Count. There is a young man captain and an old man captain. Each present their group’s game and proceed to count in Tuscarora to see who will win the prize! The prize? The winner gets to watch the loser clean all the game.

The women of the territory will prepare the game for The Feast which will take place at noon on New Year’s Day.

The highlight of our New Year’s festival is the morning of January 1^st when Nu Yah takes place. Young and old go door to door calling “Nu Yah! Nu Yah!” at each resident’s door. You must yell loud to be heard. If you don’t yell loud enough adults will prompt you to “say it again.”

Homemade cookies, brownies, rice krispie treats, doughnuts, and sometimes an apple are given from each home very similar to Halloween but adults participate too. Many visitors request a treat for the driver.

In the old days when I still participated in Nu Yah (before my family came along and I had to stay home to watch the door while my husband took our children Nu Yahing) we would often find a store bought cookie or an apple tossed to the side of the road. Homemade goods were the desired treats of the day.

If it was 10 degrees out we bundled up like snowmen and ran from the car to the house and yelled Nu Yah, threw our treats in our bag and headed right back to the warm car that waited. If it was warm out our Ma, Aunt, or Uncle or whoever was our driver would usually come to the door with us and spend some time standing at the door visiting and catching up with friends and family.

While our clan system of bear, deer, wolf, beaver, turtle, eel, and snipe runs through our maternal line, on New Year’s Day we also celebrated our father’s clan. If your father’s clan was a member of the house you visited for Nu Yah you also called out “Uwiire” to receive a special treat sometimes a gingerbread man or a piece of pie. In this way on this special day of the year the men were also recognized and important.

My mother who is 80, and one of 10 children, recalls her father walking with them to Nu Yah and directing them to his family clan homes so they knew which houses to ask for uwiire. I imagine this was also a way of teaching them to know who their family was. Her mother was a beaver just as all her sons and daughters were. Her father was a bear. A household that included a bear was a bonus for them to collect an extra goodie.

In the old days she said people would start coming at 6:00 a.m. and it was custom to yell Nu Yah and just walk in and grab your treat which was usually ready and waiting on a table by the door. Nowadays the first visitors arrive about 8:00 a.m.

While we looked forward with great anticipation to go Nu Yahing, we also looked forward to being old enough to help serve at The Feast. The women cooked for 3 days to prepare for this special day. The rabbits were soaked in water to make rabbit pie. The deer cooked to serve as a side dish.

While the men prepared the cornbread and cornsoup, the women peeled potatoes for mashed potatoes, baked hams and about 150 different pies all while visiting and laughing together. On the day of the feast when we got to be teenagers we would rush home from Nu Yah, change our clothes to something nice and get to the Old Gym to help bring the plates to the guests.

Everyone is welcome to come to The Feast. Many families planned their visits home on this special day so they could see and visit as many family members as possible.

The past few years at our Tuscarora Elementary School, our culture teacher has organized a school wide Nu Yah for our students. They go by grade to different rooms in the school and yell Nu Yah to receive their cookies. The Tuscarora Language teacher bakes cookies with the students for the adults to pass out. In this way each child can participate in Nu Yah and know our tradition even if, for some reason, they don’t get out to take part on New Year’s Day.

The best Nu Yah times that I can remember always involved the adults participating with us, coming in to the homes and taking a few minutes to visit.

To come from a cold, crisp morning into a cozy house with smiling faces and delicious aromas, relatives happy to see us, happy to share their lovely goods, and leave with a Nu Yah! Nu Yah! warmed us better than huddling over my grandparent’s old kerosene heat stove.

We always knew who had the best baked goods, who would be the happiest to see us, who would say every year, “gosh, you look just like your ma!” It was a good feeling to belong to such a loving community where our special New Year’s Festival has happened every year for over a hundred years because of the efforts and dedication of all our Tuscarora people.

Angela Jonathon is a resident of the Tuscarora Nation and affiliated with the Seneca-Iroquois Museum thorough the Tuscarora History Group. She has written this blog at the request of Dr. Joe Stahlman, Director of the Seneca-Iroquois Museum.

Snowstorm in a Jar Activity

Winter storms can appear out of nowhere and grow intense quickly throughout the northern hemisphere, but with a little science, you can control your own snowstorm at home! Follow this easy recipe below and remember to ask a grownup for help!

What You’ll Need

1 cup water
Baby Oil
Alka-Selzer Tablets
Tall Glass or Clear Jar
Mixing Bowl
Stirring Utensil
White Paint
Optional: Blue or silver glitter or food coloring

Directions

Pour enough baby oil into your jar to fill it three-fourths of the way full.
In a bowl, combine water and paint in equal parts.
Optional: add glitter and food coloring to bowl as desired.
Pour your water and paint mixture into the jar.
Drop in an Alka-Seltzer tablet, making sure to clear the space in case of spills.
Watch what happens!

What’s Happening?

The baby oil isn’t as heavy as water, meaning your water and paint mixture should sink to the bottom of the jar. So why did it jump back up and down? When Alka-Seltzer begins dissolving in the water, it releases one of its ingredients—sodium bicarbonate, also known as baking soda, which reacts with the dioxide in water to create carbon dioxide gas. This creates upward pressure, making the water and paint mixture rise. However, the oil creates downward pressure to immediately force the mixture back down.

Now that you can make a snowstorm, try gathering some more data! How long does it take for the “snow” to settle down? What happens when you put in another Alka-Seltzer tablet after the first one has melted? Be sure to share your results with the #MuseumFromHome!

Climate Change Never Takes A Holiday: The Phenomenon of the Pizzly Bear

by Nicholas Sauer

Climate Change and Pizzly Bears

Related Content

Carnegie Museum of Natural History Blog Citation Information

Share this post!

Ruthie the Red-Nosed Reindeer: The Natural History Behind Some Classic Christmas Carols

by Shelby Wyzykowski

The Twelve Days of Christmas

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

Natural History of Christmas Songs

Related Content

Carnegie Museum of Natural History Blog Citation Information

Share this post!

A Hop, Skip, and a Stomp

Related Content

Waddling in a Winter Wonderland: How Penguins, Humans, and other Animals Traverse Ice and Snow

Related Content

Tuscarora Nu Yah

Related Content

Snowstorm in a Jar Activity

What You’ll Need

Directions

What’s Happening?

About

Get Involved

Bring a Group

Powdermill

More Information