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“The Questions Are Infinite for Us” – A Mexican Scientist’s Reflections on Diversity in Nature and Science

An island covered in yellow flowers, with a lighthouse.
Anacapa Island, Channel Islands National Park. Credit Tim Hauf, timhaufphotography.com.

Waking up to a 4 a.m. alarm clock is not really my cup of tea. And doing so to drive across the entire Los Angeles metropolitan area, board a ferry, and ride over ocean swells is definitely not my thing. I was a graduate student in Southern California long ago, and I know the traffic and the seasickness. So I have to admire the fortitude of a young scientist who puts up with the physical discomfort to pursue her passion.

Magda Argueta-Guzmán is a Ph.D. candidate at the University of California in Riverside. She’s keenly interested in what processes determine the composition, structure, and function of ecological communities at different geographic scales. She realized that the large islands just off the Southern California coast are a perfect place to seek answers.

If you stand on a Southern California beach and look across the water, you can see much of Channel Islands National Park on the horizon. It consists of five islands— Anacapa, San Miguel, Santa Barbara, Santa Cruz, and Santa Rosa— and their surrounding ocean habitats. The islands have been geologically isolated from the mainland for millennia. Still, they’re close enough that some terrestrial species occasionally migrate from the lands behind you, establish new communities on the islands, and head into a future that may be different from the mainland and from each other. The islands also have a long history of human modification, from Indigenous hunting, gathering, and application of fire to more modern ranching and subsequent habitat restoration projects. As a result, the islands are biologically unique and enticing. They attract visitors wanting to explore interesting environments as well as researchers seeking to understand biodiversity and community ecology.

A woman in a hat stands next to a pickup truck with an insect net
Magda Argueta-Guzmán on Santa Cruz Island. Photo courtesy of Magda Argueta-Guzmán

What do you picture when you think of an ecological community? Maybe the trees and mammals in a forest? Or the fish and insects in a pond? That’s typically what comes to my mind. But Magda is drilling down deeper. She’s interested in the islands’ flowering plants and the bees that pollinate them and the micro-organisms that live inside the bees’ intestines. Yes, just like us, bees have a gut microbiome. And Magda is studying not only the diversity of species, but also the diversity of their forms and functions— things like nectar-producing structures in flowers and the length of bee tongues. These are important to know about because it turns out that not only do bees move pollen between flowers. They also move microbes. Magda thinks that the composition and diversity of plant communities, bee communities, and gut microbial communities may all influence one another.

It’s cutting edge to apply theoretical models of community ecology to explain species and functional diversity across different levels, all the way down to the microbes that live in a gut. And it involves everything from insect nets and calipers to liquid nitrogen and DNA sequencing machines. That makes for an interesting life on beautiful islands and in well-equipped laboratories.

It’s that interesting life that drives me to talk to scientists who work in parks. And in Magda’s case, maybe also a touch of nostalgia for Southern California. For everything but the traffic, of course.

Magda just began her field work on the islands this summer and now has a lot of samples to begin analyzing in the lab. While we couldn’t talk about results and discoveries yet, we had a wide-ranging conversation about intellectual interests, a love of science and nature, and the values of diversity and inclusion.

Islands on the ocean horizon, with light streaming down through clouds
Channel Islands. Photo courtesy of Tim Hauf, timhaufphotography.com

The Channel Islands seem like a whole different world from the mainland. What's your experience like?

Well, we get on the morning ferry in Ventura. Most of the people on board are going for camping and hiking. They see our insect nets and research equipment and tanks of liquid nitrogen, and they always ask “What are you catching on the islands? Why do you have this net?” and they are just curious about it. And depending on the island, there might not be a car or truck to use, so we carry our gear. We might be able to stay at a research station, or we might have to camp. We hike a lot.

It's super rewarding to be surrounded by nature. And you get to see stuff that you’re not researching like dolphins, whales, a little bit of the kelp forest. We have seen the rare island foxes that live only on the larger islands. It is an amazing experience.

A yellow and black bee rests on a pink flower
A bee (Anthidium illustre) forages on a snapdragon flower. Photo courtesy of Magda Argueta-Guzmán.

Tell me about your interest in bees, flowers, and microorganisms.

I grew up in the rainforest in Southern Mexico, in a city called Tapachula which is really close to the border of Guatemala. When I was a child, my grandfather drove a truck throughout Mexico, transporting fruits and vegetables from the ranches to the big cities. On several occasions I traveled with him and my grandmother throughout the state of Chiapas, knowing countless rivers, jungles, forests, and seas. Every time we arrived in the area of crops, my grandfather took me to hike through the jungle, spending hours observing bugs on flowers and asking ourselves what it would be like to be an insect. He taught me to love nature, but above all, he taught me to ask questions. My passion for field ecology began with these road trips with my grandparents. They showed me how fascinating natural communities are.

Much later, when I lived in Mexico City for my undergraduate degree, I studied flowers and insects. The bees got most of my attention because they have different colors and sizes, and most of them are not truly social. I didn't know that before. I became amazed by bees as pollinators.

When I moved to California to study the PhD, my professor shared a passion for all the microbes in bee guts. I'd never thought before about a bee having a digestive system. But I got to understand that complex interactions among microbes happen inside of their body, like competition, mutualism, all the interactions that we usually observe outside in nature with macro-organisms. And we didn't know anything before about those interactions because the tools didn't exist to study DNA. But now we can use them and apply ecological theory to those microorganisms.

What lives inside bee guts?

There are different types of organisms— viruses, fungi, bacteria, protozoa. Some are pathogens that cause disease like the fungus Ascosphaera apis which was first discovered in the honeybee. It makes the larvae sick with a disease called chalkbrood. Other species of Ascosphaera have been detected in other non-social bees, but the effects on them remain unexplored. However, not all the microorganisms are pathogens or parasites. There are also many microbes that can help bees to digest their food, like Lactobacillus micheneri. That’s a bacterium recently discovered by my professor and other members of the lab.

A woman sweeps an insect net over yellow flowers, with the blue ocean behind her
Magda sweeps for bees on Anacapa Island. Photo courtesy of Magda Argueta-Guzmán.

Why use Channel Islands National Park to answer your research questions?

Islands have always fascinated ecologists because they offer unique opportunities to study ecological dynamics in isolated ecosystems that can be compared not only among them but to the mainland. The three islands that I am studying (Anacapa, Santa Cruz, and Santa Rosa) have different histories regarding the presence or absence of honeybees. This is interesting because honeybees’ microbiota is different than the microbiota of other bees. For instance, Santa Rosa Island has never had honeybees. If we go to Santa Rosa and study the microbiota in the bee community, are we going to find the same pathogens that we find in the mainland bee species that do coexist with honeybees?

We hear a lot about the need to save bees. But that news is mostly about one species— the honeybee— which comes from Europe. What would you like people to know about native bees?

There are three times more bee species than mammal species in the world and opposite to common belief, most don’t make colonies. They don’t make honey. They don't have a queen. Most bees follow a solitary lifestyle, and they make their nests below the ground, or inside little pieces of wood. People get really fascinated when you tell them that because it's kind of like a hidden story. And also, I would highlight the importance that bees have in not only pollinating crops but also pollinating natural ecosystems.

Where did your desire to be a scientist come from?

Besides my early interactions with nature in road trips with my grandparents, I grew up also familiarized with the educational system because both of my parents work in high schools. When I was a kid, my father took me many times to his classrooms. I got to see what it implies to be a teacher and to be a student, how are discussions happening, how is the cognitive process occurring. And I admired it. I really liked the role that the teacher has in the town, in the society.

So, I decided instead of studying an applied career in biological sciences, I want to create knowledge. I want to actually discover things related to nature. And that's the reason I studied in a university that is very focused on research. I think I knew since I was 17 years old that I wanted to be a researcher.

Now you want to be a professor. Have you ever had moments of doubt, and how do you overcome them?

Yeah, I have had those moments. As graduate students we heard a lot that making a career in academia is hard because there are few open positions which makes it very competitive. And although I know I’d be happy in a full-time teaching position, I also love doing field work, lab work, and leading my own research. Whenever I’m doubting, I go to the field and I fall in love again. I get motivated again. Like, “OK, this is the way that we're collecting the data, this is the way that we are working through some knowledge together.” I like the process of building scientific knowledge because for me being a scientist goes along with teaching and being a mentor. Recently I have had the experience to mentor an undergraduate student on the Channel Islands. That has also incentivized and rewarded me. This is what it is at the end— mentoring students, getting the data, doing the research. Those type of interactions help me to overcome doubt.

You’re describing the emotional experience of science— the love of fieldwork, the pleasure of having a team, the reward of mentoring students.

I really owe that to the environment I grew up in, with both of my parents dedicated to education. I'm very passionate about the role of teaching, the role of a professor, the role of a scientist in society. And I think it's important to reinforce that nowadays, because of all the fake data and misinformation spread through social media. As scientists, as mentors, as professors, our role in society is to give a more critical view and provide tools to mentees to be able to discern what is a confident source of information and what is not.

A woman in a blue lab coat and mask works at a laboratory bench
Magda extracting microbial DNA in the lab. Photo courtesy of Magda Argueta-Guzmán.

Science calls you to be a researcher, a teacher, a mentor. For you, does “scientist” encompass many identities, or is it something distinct?

I think it aligns with all the other identities that I carry within myself. But I struggled in the past to realize that. I think the lack of representation, the lack of role models in science— as women of color— makes it a struggle to align all your identities with your scientific identity. Fortunately, if you have a network of support and a good environment in your lab, you can feel confident and you can build inclusive spaces for everybody. But I know it's not always the case.

Tell me about your work to make science more inclusive.

There are many barriers that prevent people from getting into science. They can be systemic, institutional, or economic barriers. It’s really hard when you're an undergraduate, for example. You have to work in a job and go to your classes. You may want research experience, but you can’t do it for free. So science can be denied to you.

My department created the Advancing Inclusivity in Entomology scholarship. It was a joint effort of faculty, staff, administrators, graduate students, postdocs, everybody. The objective is to get paid research experience for undergraduates facing economic barriers.

Simultaneously, Jessica Maccaro, who is another graduate student in my lab, and I founded Insects4Inclusion. We wanted to raise money for students who are facing these barriers, to get them paid research experiences. We sell pictures of arthropods on Instagram and Twitter, mostly insects but also spiders and other types. All the money is donated every couple of months to the scholarship. We also highlight the science and journey of historically excluded groups of scientists, which is one of my favorite parts of my work in Insects4Inclusion.

Do you see the broader scientific community addressing inclusivity in science?

In my lab and across the entomology department, discussions are now brought to the table about the systemic barriers that people of color experience to actually become a scientist, and the lack of representation. And now I am on the DEI [diversity, equity, and inclusion] committee. We are working to create a more cohesive community so everybody can feel respected and valued and heard. There are efforts to partner among different departments within the college, to actually make a bigger institutional change.

If you could give advice or inspiration to a young person about making science part of their lives, what would you say?

I think one of the really good characteristics of kids is their curiosity. Even though they have seen already an ant carrying a leaf, they will see it again and they will follow the ant, and they will discover the colony, see the queen, and then they will start asking simple questions like “Why does one ant have wings and the others don't?” Those questions in fact encompass complex processes like insect sociality and caste development. So I would advise teenagers “Don’t lose that factor of surprise. Don't lose that curiosity. Don’t get bored by the world.” If we can become adults who are curious and capable of being surprised, the questions are infinite for us. And that is why I like science. It’s a way to see the world, to know the world, to interact with the world, through different lenses, all the time.

And I would say to undergraduates in science, “Don't be intimidated about new techniques.” There is no limit of age to learn new stuff. For me, it was the hardest part to realize that I can also be a microbiologist. I used to think that it was a field for really smart people and that I wasn't smart enough, you know? Sometimes we think that being a scientist means to be really smart in terms of grades, in terms of always having an A-plus. But that is not true. You can foster your curiosity and you can become a scientist even if you don't feel as smart as you think you should be. We sometimes feel intimidated, but there is nothing to be intimidated about.


Tim Watkins conducted this interview, and he is the Science Access and Engagement Coordinator for the National Park Service, based in Washington, DC. He taught college biology and did field and laboratory research on tadpoles for many years and has a passion for helping people see science as an accessible human endeavor full of interesting stories.

Channel Islands National Park

Last updated: February 6, 2023