Rocket holds up a page and grins. "I wrote that I saw ten hawks on Tuesday."
Raven raises an eyebrow. "Ten? I was with you. We saw one bird, and we were not sure what it was."
Rocket turns red. "It felt like ten. It was exciting."
Nova dims to a soft cyan. "Exciting is fine," she says. "But a record must say what you saw, not what you felt."
Citizen science only works if the records are honest. Here are the rules real scientists follow.
Write what you saw, not what you hoped to see. One bird is one bird.
If you are not sure what it was, say so. "Small brown bird, not sure" is a good record.
Never guess a name to make a record sound better. A wrong name is worse than no name.
Count the same way each time. If you count for five minutes on Monday, count for five minutes on Friday.
Write it down right away. Memories change by dinner time.
Keep every record, even the boring ones. "Nothing seen" is data too.
Your record joins thousands of others. Nobody can check each one.
If many people round up or guess names, the pile of records lies.
Then a town might plant flowers for an insect that was never there.
Or it might miss a real warning sign, because fake sightings hid it.
One honest "not sure" is worth more than ten exciting guesses.
Scientists also protect living things by being careful about places.
Keep the exact spot of a nest or a rare animal private. Share it only with your grown-up.
| Statement | True or false? |
|---|---|
| It is fine to round one bird up to ten if it was exciting. | ? |
| "Nothing seen" is a useful record. | ? |
| A wrong name is better than no name. | ? |
| You should write records down right away. | ? |
Honest data, explorer! Tomorrow you build the Explorer Report from twelve weeks of records.