By: Delia Stephens
Along the way, enthusiastic students have given me:
1 salt shaker (?)
1 apple
2 drawings
1 delightful handwritten note
Lots of hugs
Their undivided attention
Their divided attention
Questions, answers
A hope for the future
While we are certainly teachers (and we spend a heck of a lot of time telling kids about science), we’re also here to inspire kids to pursue their passions. Personally, that often means taking time away from the hard science that Alex and I teach during our workshop to get to know the kids.
Before every workshop, we have the students go around in a circle and say their names, where they’re from, and something they like. With answers ranging from pizza to basketball and everything in between, it’s always fun to watch kids’ eyes light up about something they’re passionate about. One thing that I try to convey every time I talk to anyone at a workshop is how excited I am about science. Sometimes, that means that I have to wave my arms around and yell and make funny noises to get kids interested. Other times, it means I have to show them a mystery that no one has solved yet.
Alex and I have a workshop that connects physics with photography. To me, the intersection between science and art is a magical place, and it’s really fun to see one of my interests — photography — connect with something I spend so much time doing (thanks, 8.02). We build something called a camera obscura after discussing what light is, how it works, and how we interact with it. What this means more practically is that we fold a cardboard box and stick them on our faces, wandering around outside and pointing out stuff that looks cool or is interesting.
It’s amazing to hear the noises of awe and confusion as kids first look into their cameras. If you haven’t seen an image from a camera obscura, I’d highly recommend making one — it’s not that difficult, and it’s very, very cool. At least, I think so.
When we’re not wandering around with boxes on our eyeballs, we talk about what it means to be a scientist. This means that Alex and I get to share stories about experiments gone wrong. I have plenty of those stories.
I firmly believe that every single kid we’ve had through our workshop has loved getting to build something with their hands. Sometimes, they get frustrated, and I get to remind them that science is not always easy, but getting those kids through the workshop is incredibly rewarding.
Perhaps the most rewarding experience of all is when I get to forge a genuine connection with someone from Virginia, Kentucky, or Illinois. I get to tell them stories and watch as their eyes light up with questions and genuine curiosity about the world around them. I’ve had wonderful conversations with first graders all the way through high schoolers, and it’s a beautiful thing to watch someone become incredibly excited about something you think is cool, too. These kids are happy and cultivating a love for science, and I feel like I’ve done my job.
As I’ve grown up, I’ve gotten to take a look back at all of the people who have inspired me. Sometimes, those people are more traditional role models — my dad, my mom, my grandparents, my little brother. Sometimes, however, they’re someone I met in passing — someone who took the time out of their day to tell me about something that they thought was cool. I’d like to be that person for these kids.
A short update so everyone knows all is well:
We woke up very late this morning, and had a delicious breakfast courtesy of our hosts at a nearby diner. I was very full, and I still have pancakes in the fridge. We then watched some of the World Cup, taught for three hours, had a delicious grilled dinner (again courtesy of our hosts. Thank you to Ann, Sam, and Virginia for an amazing experience), and reorganized our van. We boldly rescued some bananas from the middle of the seat (rest in peace my nose and appetite), and then I went for a walk and listened to some jams because we are back in civilization and I have service now!
As usual, this post also appears on my blog at: https://medium.com/@deliaornodelia. I swear one day these two websites will diverge, but it seems like the only way I’m going to properly write something is if I have a deadline. That is all.
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