Let The Debriefing Begin!

I know very few to none are going to read this full mess, a few more will skim it, and most will just completely ignore it. But getting people to read has never been the point of this blog. I've always found writing is my choice medium for collecting and clarifying my thoughts, and this is no different. So, whether you care or not, let the debriefing begin.

My life this summer has been like an Ibsen play. The author feels no need to secure a happy ending, but rather likes to throw people into situations and see how they react, regardless of what strings must be pulled. As soon as I find something I can enjoy and rejoice in, the Universe decides to play a malicious game of keep away with my happy. Today was my last day teaching these kids, since tomorrow is a "fun day" where they'll have rope courses and stuff like that. I was pretty happy about being done, as this job has been a strain on my patience and confidence in the future. But more on that later.

Once I came home, it was supposed to be simple. An easy night of relaxing and catching up with friends across the Ocean. I don't know what I was thinking. Why would I want to ever make things simple for myself? I turned on my computer, and it freaked out. I've had issues with computers before, but never like this. A program on my computer "AntiVir Solution Pro" was telling me that almost every program file on my computer was infected. I didn't remember installing such a program, as I already have triple redundancy in my computer security (Norton, Symantec, and this thing called CA Security Suite), so I don't know why I would have downloaded a trial version of a 4th. But considering this "spyware program" wouldn't let me go on the internet (I opened Mozilla Firefox, and I was told that Internet Explorer was blocking a potentially malicious sight. Very fishy), I suspected all was not well.

Literally every program was reported as "infected". I tried to open up the backup program for my external harddrive, and it was blocked. I tried to open up the in-house system restore feature, and again, was blocked. Could not open a single program. I couldn't even wipe my hard drive and reboot the system. Fully paralyzed. As I slowly realized I had gotten cluster-f*cked by a bogus virus scanning program, I had to laugh. Laughter slowly developed in to weeping, and weeping took a left turn at punching things and floored it down swearing boulevard. So I tried using my mom's computer to look up how badly I had screwed myself. I found several sights with unhelpful suggestions, recommending I do things like go on the internet and download another virus scanning program (uh uh uh, fool me once shame on you, fool me twice, and I might as well bend over and...well, yeah). The solutions that didn't require me to download things, had instruction that followed something like this:

1. Find this hidden folder that is called something completely different in Vista. We don't know what it's called, so good luck.
2. Find this hidden file that's a string of random letters and numbers. Every time the virus infects a computer, it's a different string of random letters, so we can't tell you an exact file name. Oh, and all the other important system files in that folder are also named by a string of random letters. You can try this, but we can't guarantee success.
3. Since you probably couldn't do the first two steps, you might as well bend over...and unplug your computer because it will never work again.

If it wasn't for Safe Mode, I wouldn't be able to write this post, so thank God (who can't go faster than the Speed of Light) for that. I think this is also a sign that I should take the plunge and just go ahead and upgrade to Windows 7.

So ignoring those 4 hours that were delivered unto the Gods of Futility as temporal sacrifice, it was a pretty good day today. As I said, it was relatively easy. I had decided that I deserved an easy day for once. So we played with bubbles. And learned. Always learning.

After some 11th hour planning, and an ingenious suggestion from Angela, I settled on showing the kids how to make square bubbles.

Square Bubbles! Impossible you might say. I had the exact same reaction. But observe how I speak the truth.

And,

Huzzah! True, not what I imagined when I heard Square Bubbles (I was thinking of those crazy bubbles Spongebob blew), but rather mind blowing. Kudos.

But it wasn't just a "blow bubbles" day. They had to learn science. That's how this whole teaching thing goes. I explained about the micell structure of soap, and the weird polarity things that accompany it (something I only remember hearing off hand in 7th grade). I also went over why the sphere is a geometrically favorable shape (ratio of volume to surface area). It was a great lesson to reinforce somethings we have gone over, as well as teach them something practical (why soap works the way it does).

With the oldest group, E group, we did a Mythbusters experiment based on the Humpty Dumpty myth. The task was: put humpty dumpty together again. I suppose I am learning, because I had the foresight to tell them to go out side to do the experiment. I still have much to learn, as I should have rephrased the instruction "smash it against the ground".

One group was able to successfully put the egg back together again, while the others made a terrible mess. Here's the reassembled egg:

A little more tape than I would have liked, but they did it. And were very pleased with themselves. Pictures cannot be posted for certain reasons.

And I give you my pen-ultimate shirt pocket:

And because I decided I would give myself an easy day, my pocket is empty. But my heart is full. I challenge someone to come up with something cornier.

My last class of this program had 3 kids in it because it was one of the small groups to begin with, and many had already gone home:

And as I sat there watching my kids have the time of their life with nothing more than a bucket of soapy water, I started mentally debriefing, pondering, and thinking, as I must always do towards the end of a project.

I think it's fair to say that I've grown a lot in the past 7 weeks of this program. I had never worked with kids in this capacity before, always opting for work with the elderly as my community service of choice. And though there are many similarities (frequency of bowel movements, short attention spans, the smell), they differ greatly. I've learned how to command the attention of distracted, ADD little children, if only for a few moments of the day (talk loudly and be the most distracting thing in the room). I've learned how to deal with them on an individual basis (it's very important to go down to their level, and meet them at their height). I can definitely say that I've picked up important job (and life) skills from this experience. Though I have much to learn and to improve upon, the task managing children no longer seems so daunting. And after this experience, I know I will make a great father. Someday. I do find it odd that after through this program, I began to feel protective of some of these kids. I take it as a good sign. Papa Bear, that whole complex.

But what's more striking than how I've grown, is how I've come to view myself. I've always struggled with viewing myself as the appropriate age. As a young kid, I always felt much older than everyone else. Perhaps it was because I was well behaved and didn't do the immature things that make teachers cry (experience), but I felt too old for my classmates. As I grew old, this feeling inverted, and I struggled to view myself as old. And when I finally turned 18, went off to college and became "independent", I still felt like I was in middle school, trying to figure out how this whole "switching classes for each subject" thing worked.

Up until this summer, I'd found it hard to think of myself as an adult, and a member of the workforce. My first job, working in an engineering lab, did nothing to cultivate my personal maturity, as I worked under a pile of grad students, researchers, post docs, and a PI in the insular womb of academia. Even working on my own research project did nothing for me. But this summer has changed a lot. I feel like an adult.

I look back and I'm pleasantly surprised by what I was able to accomplish. I proposed and planned my own curriculum. I conducted 5 hours of classes each day on my own, following my own lesson plans. This and the many little things along the way have changed my personal perception. Which is a good thing.

I've been mentally planning the timeline of the next few years for some time now. After Yale, let's say another 4 years of grad school. Getting a job, getting married, getting a family, that whole bit. It all seemed so grown up, and so imminent. And it honestly terrified me. Aside from the legal reasons (and a whole host of other ones), I've never touched alcohol because it seemed too mature. I didn't feel like I was anywhere near being at a point in my life where it didn't seem odd and out of place. And while I'm still too young for some of the things I've mentioned above, and I have much left to grown into, for the first time in my life I feel on track. Not mired down by social retardation, by keeping even with the pack. It feels good.

And here's my final thought for the night:

I've also found the converse is true. This program has made me feel very young. I think many scientists become jaded by academia, since it indeed becomes much harder and much more abstract. Unless you're the type that really really likes numbers (not me), science can seem like a chore at times. But this experience has reintroduced me to some of the fundamental wonders of the natural world. Magnets are still awesome, and still seem like black magic to me. Baking Soda and Vinegar will forever make me giggle. And bubbles, well, they're bubbles, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.

I'm sure as I become busier and more entrenched in this whole living thing, that I'll lose sight of what I type here. As I dive deeper into my engineering courses in the fall, I'll forget how awesome even the simplest circuit is, or how a high pitched squeal of joy can light up a room. But in this rare moment where I have time to think, debrief and ponder, I can appreciate the wholeness of this experience, the complexity of emotion and sentiment.

The aging of eternal youth. I think that sort of sums it up for now. Ah, look at the time. I must be going, as I must still go to work in the morning. So that will be it for now, readership. I know most won't make it this far in the post, and I'd even be so cocky that no one will bother with these last few sentences. But that's perfectly fine. They've served their purpose.

Tuesdays Are Marginally Better Than Mondays

Congrats! to fellow Champion of the Blogosphere, Angela, for winning Baby Bunsen Burners' first contest by finding a video of the Supernanny episode I specified in the previous post. Links to the video are posted in the comments section. From what I've watched of the episode, the children have gotten better, if only slightly. I get little pangs of anxiety watching that video, because that's exactly what my days are like.

Today we covered cells. Relying on my limited knowledge of microbio from Bio Honors (again, Liem FTW), I explained the difference between animal cells and plant cells, as well as salient features of each. The main experiment was looking at various cells under the microscope, and having the kids sketching what they see.

Here are some of the samples we looked at: onion skin (dyed with green food coloring. Bah, who needs expensive iodine?), some pollen, a feather, the petal from this small yellow flower, a leaf, Plumeria flower petal, and my cheek cells.

Overall the lesson went rather well. The images turned out great, and the kids were fascinated by the samples. I remember doing a similar exercise in 7th grade (Mrs. Nishimoto. She had a chinchilla that didn't like boys), and some of those images are firmly implanted in my memory. Hopefully some of these slides will stick with the kids as they progress through their respective educations.

In other news, here's today's shirt-pocket:

The inventory stands at: two mechanical pencils, a ball point pen, a pack of microscope slides, a pack of microscope slide covers, a Plumeria flower, a kukui nut, a list of people who don't get recess that day, a note saying one of my students went to the healthroom for a sore stomache, and my ID.

So here's the thing about that shirt. I bought that shirt sometime in the latter end of elementary school. Elementary school?! Surely you must be kidding, Mr. Sakimoto. Ah, but here's the thing about me. I have apparently always been a huge and adorable, but mainly huge, child. After a weekend of cleaning, at the intersection of Memory Lane and Reminiscing Road I came across picture albums from my misguided youth. Such gems as these:

Yes, that is me, the kid who's two heads taller and twice as wide as everybody else. I'm pretty sure we were all the same age. So after reviewing this evidence, I don't find it particularly surprising that a shirt from elementary school still fits.

Tomorrow, we will attempt to look at fingerprints and examine salient features. My single hope is that we don't make a mess. But that's pretty ambitious. So I hope for a day free of pee and poo accidents.

Monday, Monday, So Good To Me..

Ah, Mondays. I suppose after reading thousands of Garfield comics in my younger days, I've been conditioned to loathe mondays (love lasagna and kick Odie off the table). But there's something about Mondays that creeps under my skin and crawls around like nobody's business (like those darn scarab beetles). But such is the life of this working stiff. Another week, another $300 (that sounds pretty sad, but hey, it's a summer job. Much better than minimum wage).

Today we covered Bones. Though this was an experiment I had covered previously with Angela She's Demos class a few months back, I've learned not to expect much from little kids. But surely rolling paper tubes is a simple enough task for them. Right?

Ah, to be so young and so naive. The experiment is to show why bones are hollow. Paper is rolled into loose hollow tubes as well as tight "solid" tubes to model the two potential bone designs. Then, stuff's piled on top to see which bone design is stronger. Now the hardest part of the experiment is the rolling of the tubes. I had a busy morning, and didn't have enough time to prep paper strips for them to just roll. So I stupidly figured I would have them tear their own strips. I gave each of them a sheet of copier paper and told them to rip it into four long strips. I even showed them how to do it and walked them step by step, showing them every crease and every rip. Even then, I had the perennial hopeless cases come up to me (read: N----) and whine that it was too hard. Some of these kids need to put down their DS's and learn how to do simple, everyday tasks.

Overall the experiment went well, I suppose. Today's lesson could be summarized in to a short Mr. Sakimoto Mantra: "HOLLOW BONES ARE STRONGER", which is always a good thing. I had a little issue with a group of boys in the C group, who upon making their solid bone rolls, began to pretend smoking with them. I was furious, for obvious reasons. At least they were smoking them like cigarettes, rather than joints, which is somewhat redeeming, I suppose.

I had the best lunch today, thanks to a little bit of creativity and having to dash to get ready for work. Last night we ate Korean from Gina's and I had leftovers. I didn't have time to get rice and all that jazz ready, so I made a sandwich.

Which turned out to be one of the best sandwiches I've eaten in a while. Here's the rundown: hamburger bun, with koo che jung paste (or however you spell it), my leftover BBQ chicken, romaine lettuce, and assorted ban chan (well, my brother's ban chan. Hey, he's always eating my food, I'm just easing his guilt) including daikon, beansprouts, seaweed, cabbage, and taegu. It's like bi bim bop in sandwich form. So good, I had to take a picture.

Perhaps not the worst Monday I've had. I was honestly not surprised to find that the two outcast trouble makers in the A group (M----- and A--) have become the closest of friends through their mutual exclusion. I cannot say the same for the two outcasts of D group (N---- and E----) who have developed such a disastrous antagonistic relationship, that I now need to physically separate them. I hope I never have to tell another story about their problems, but something tells me by the end of this job, half the tags on these posts are going to be about them.

And as usual:

Here's today's shirt-pocket. The inventory stands at three dry erase pens (because I forget to cap them and they dry out), a mechanical pencil with no graphite but a big eraser, a mechanical pencil with graphite but no eraser, my cellphone (because I'm constantly checking the time in hopes that it's time for recess), strips of paper (because it's physically impossible for anyone younger than 2nd grade to cut or rip paper nicely. I'd like to spend a class with some of these kids just developing fine motor skills. I think I could devote a whole class to folding paper evenly in half), and my name tag, as always. The kids told me they liked my shirt. You can't see it well, but there's a big dragon in some clouds along the torso. I bought it when I was 10 and it seemed like the coolest thing in the world at the time. And I was a huge child. I came to this realization after cleaning and going through family albums on Sunday. Pictures are forthcoming.

Only four more days until the weekend. Scratch that, 3 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes and 45 seconds. 3 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes, and 39 seconds. 3 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes and 30 seconds....

Sometimes I Forget Who I'm Talking To

On Friday, I decided to give my students a little creative problem solving exercise. The lesson previous, I had gone over polarity and density of compounds, using a density column of corn syrup, water, and oil, as a means of segueing into Chemistry (thank you to Angela She for the lesson plans). I thought this would lay a great foundation for a problem solving exercise that's quite relevant: Solve the BP Oil Crisis.

I am by no means pioneering in this endeavor, as it is a well known secret that kids can be the best problem solvers, since their creativity isn't hindered by social rationalizations and self-consciousness. Considering a truly viable solution has yet to be found (well, it depends on who you ask. I have my own opinion), I thought it wouldn't hurt to let 89 elementary school students have a stab at it.

I presented each group with two problems: how to seal the broken pipe, and how to handle the oil slick. I gave them all the stats: how far down the hole is (around 5,000 ft) and how far out (26 miles) as well as other pertinent data, and told them to go for it.

I ran into a bit of a problem when describing the current state of the fractured well. I tried to pull out all the technical jargon and explain it to them simply. I said: "Okay, there's a big hole in the middle of the ocean and it's spewing all this crabcakes out into the ocean..." Except I didn't say crabcakes. It's weird, now, for me to think of crap as a bad word, since I use it so often. But the glare from my mother who was working in the back told me that teachers should not use that word around 3rd graders. Surprisingly, none of the kids seemed to notice, nor did they make a big fuss that I swore. So either they didn't notice, or they've become desensitized to the word. I think I'm going to test this out by swearing more. A list of your favorite expletives and ideas on how to work them into a science lesson would be much appreciated from the readership.

So back to the lesson. I was pleasantly surprised by some of the ideas. Most decided to just shove a bunch of crap into the hole to plug it up. Some came up with the solution BP is currently employing: sticking a narrow tube into the hole to siphon off some of the leaking petroleum.

The second problem, how to deal with the oil slick, drew more creative solutions. My favorite called for a fleet of thousands of robotic fish to swim around and eat up the oil. I asked the student how she was expecting to pay for thousands of high-tech robots, to which she replied "my dad will pay for it". Another called for a giant corral type thing to scoop up all the oil. Some of the students actually used what they had learned previously about density and polarity, and suggested collecting the oil and seawater in a tanker, and decanting the oil from the water.

My biggest surprise of the day came from E----, a special ed. student that has his own para-professional aide to monitor his behavioral issues. This student, I had been warned, was known to assault teachers, in addition to the usual host of behavioral problems. However, he was perhaps the smartest student of the day. He came up with maybe 9 different solutions, each well thought out and at the very least plausible, solutions I think BP would have liked to hear. I've been told that many behavioral problems arise from a lack of stimulation, that the child becomes bored and begins to act out. Perhaps that's what caused E----'s uncharacteristically well-behaved performance on Friday. I'm going to keep an eye on this. Very intriguing.

I've been trying to drive home everyday from work, since I have yet to get my license (I'm going to renew my permit for the 3rd time later this month). I'm not the best driver, yet, but I'm....competent. Usually. My dad always yells at me, telling me going at the speed limit is too slow. As a result, I've developed a bit of a lead foot, and a waning patience. As we were driving home from the school, we approached a 4 lane intersection. In the corner of my eye I could see someone crossing the street. I figured I best just speed through the intersection, since the pedestrian was taking forever to cross the street. I guessed I missed timed it a bit because I almost ran them over. I could see them not 3 feet away from me as I sped past them. And as their figures passed my window, I saw who I had almost run down. An old woman. And her granddaughter. In a wheelchair. With a cast. You can't make this stuff up. A few seconds later, I would have hit the world's best sympathy case. Lesson learned, patience is a virtue. Or if you do hit something, drive away before they can read your plates. Haha, I'm just joking. There'd be no witnesses left.

Next week marks a whole lot of Chemistry. Not only a lot of my favorite science, but another 4 day week, since Friday we're taking the kiddies to Ice Palace, Hawaii's only skating rink. I haven't ice skated in nearly 8 years, and even then I wasn't very good. I mostly clung to the walls and slowly drifted from the natural rotation of the earth. However, this time I'm supposed to be chaperoning 89 elementary school kids, who are all faster and more athletic than I am. And they know it.