They Call Me "Mr. Science": Bottle Rocketry Adventures

Ah, what fine Hawaiian afternoon...

...The perfect day for Bottle Rocketry.
The children were busy at work, putting the last touches on their rockets.

Some were working harder than others, but hey, everyone has to learn to deal with group dynamics.

3 of the 5 groups launched their rockets today (due to stupid scheduling issues by the administration), and it went off fantastically. I for one was very pleased with the experiment, but I know for a fact the kids loved it. The biggest letdown of the day was when I told them we couldn't do the same thing again tomorrow (which is when we'll start Chemistry, tee hee!).

Some of these kids are the most precious things in the world. Everyday, we have them write in their journals what they learned today. One of the boys (I can't remember his name, he's new) showed me his journal which said, and I quote:
Today we flew rockets. Our rocket came in third. I was disappointed.

But, he told me personally he had a lot of fun, and it was the best day of his life. So, I guess things even out in the end.

I was only able to film one of the younger groups, so take a gander:
*EDIT: Video Removed*


It's becoming easy to spot the kids with potential. Joachim de Posada gave a remarkable TED (Technology, Entertainment and Design, www.ted.com) talk about a social psych study conducted in Brazil, which tried to relate self discipline with future success, The Marshmallow Test. The study was simple, it placed a child in a room with a marshmallow. The child was told, if you don't eat the marshmallow when the guy leaves the room, you'll get two when he comes back. Of course, as soon as the guy left the room, a lot of the kids instantly snatched up and gobbled down the marshmallow. But others waited. The study followed these kids throughout their schooling, and found a clear correlation between academic success and the self-restraint to not eat the marshmallow. Those who ate the marshmallow developed criminal records early on, and such and such.
Watching these kids make their rockets poses a similar factor. When cutting the cardboard fins and taping the various pieces on, some kids just slap things together, just trying to finish their rocket. But others were very meticulous, making sure each string of the parachute was the same length, and making sure the fins were symmetric and taped on nicely. I think it's this patience and attention to detail that will develop into productive and beneficial study and work habits later in life. I'd be interested to see if there's any correlation.

Also, the children are still having issue with my name, as I suppose Sakimoto is a bit of a mouthful (in all honesty, I would stumble over my own name a times during Speech and Debate). Those who can't remember Sakimoto have either tried and guessed "Mr. Taketono", or my favorite, have begun calling me "Mr. Science".

On Group Dynamics

I'm exhausted. This post will be short, as after testing the launcher pad, going out to dinner, and going grocery shopping after my 6 hours of kid chasing, knowledge-imparting, I'm rather tired. But I got paid today (not enough) and it does feel good.

Today, I had the older kids work on their bottle rockets. I split them up into groups of around 5-6 students, of single and mixed genders, and have noticed a few things. The first group was rather gender divided, with two groups of girls and one group of guys. One of the girl groups was very focused, diving right into the planning of their bottle rocket and producing a rather nice and relatively detailed schematic. They worked cohesively on the actual construction, finishing most of the their rocket, which included a nose cone, tail fins, a parachute and a propeller.*

The group of boys behaved as most groups of boys would. They were loud, and threw paper everywhere, but were able to crank out a rocket design in short order, complete with most of the same elements as the above group (sans the paper airplanes). When confronted with an issue, the group hammered it out like most boys would, with some shouting and pushing. But it did the trick, and the group was able to finish most of their rocket.

And then there was the 2nd group of girls. Now this group is made up of the girls who take occasion to smell me (they're still doing it), or poking me. I would describe their group as generally hormonal, with attitudes and egos getting in the way of any real collaboration. After 20 minutes of hitting each other with the plastic soda bottle, they finally sat down to plan out their bottle rocket. After much prodding and leading by me, the produced a design which contained a parachute and a nose cone. And of course the most important element, a smiley face. Now the group was downright dysfunctional. They got absolutely no work done, and I'm thinking of separating them next time. I will say there was one girl, Sasha, who was trying to work hard and get things done, and I feel sorry for her. She honestly tried hard, but her group mates would have none of that. I would feel worse for her, but we are responsible for the people we associate with, and it's a lesson we must learn, perhaps the hard way. If we associate with slackers and layabouts, we can only expect to achieve a moderate level of success. I hate to take this attitude (as guilt by association was something I absolutely hated as a child), but I've come to realize it's a lesson worth learning.

The other rocket groups followed similar patterns, with your stellar cohesive groups, and your not so cohesive ones. There was this one boy who told me he had made bottle rockets before, which gave me high hopes. But when he went to his group, he spent 20 minutes deciding what Pokemon to draw on the side of the rocket. When I told him he had to draw what elements to add to the rocket (like fins and a nose cone), he told me confidently that all he needed was a parachute. Perhaps he's right (that's the point of science, no preconceived notions), but I'm betting his rocket won't go very far.

And now I am very tired, and will be trying to sleep, as after falling asleep for a few hours after I came home from work, I did not do much of the prep work needed for tomorrow. So I will be waking up early in the morning to finish. Goodnight, you Wonderful World of Science. Tomorrow we will blow some little minds. 3, 2, 1, Blast Off!


*One thing I've noticed about these kids is that they mean well and are very eager to learn and participate, but sometimes miss the point. On the first day we covered aerodynamics and learned "long and pointy things fly farther" through paper airplanes. I wanted them to apply this concept to their rockets, most logically by adding a nose cone to their design. Some of them missed the point. When building the balloon jets on Thursday and the bottle rockets today, I reminded them "what did we learn the first day?", stirring up Mr. Sakimoto's Mantra #1. Instead of making a nose cone, they folded a long and pointy paper airplane, and taped it to their balloon/bottle rocket. These kids are adorable, and I can tell they are trying their best, but sometimes they miss the boat completely. Oh well, we all can't be engineers. Some of us have to become lesser professionals, like doctors and lawyers.

On Building A Bottle Rocket Launcher

So I had this crazy idea that I would make bottle rockets with my kids this coming week. I fondly recall doing this in 7th grade, and the excitement and enthusiasm this project brought to everyone involved. Then I started planning out the nitty gritty.

One thing I failed to consider fully was how to actually launch these rockets. In 7th grade, the launch pads had been around the school for several years, made by some ambitious teacher years ago. I had no such resources, and set about to making my own launch pad.

I've never been one to look at pre-made plans devised by others, preferring to rough it out, and find my own way to doing things. So I set about designing my own launch pad. After some thought, I came up with these rather detailed blueprints on the back of a piece of 3/4" plywood:
However, I had failed to take into account a rather crucial element: I had no way to pressurize the rocket. I had an electric pump suited to fill up car tires, but this would not work. What would the children do as I filled up their rockets with a flip of a red switch? I would rather have the kids themselves pump up their rockets, since that's part of the fun. No, I would need a manual pump for this project. A manual pump I did not have. After debating with myself on whether to shell out the $10.23 for a Bell Bike Pump, since that amounts to an strenuous hour of yelling, running, and shepherding children, I bought the pump.

Now, being the thrifty fellow I am, I have never bought construction materials. I have built many many a things, ranging from chairs to a full size working ballista (it shot tennis balls), but have never paid for lumber or nails, or tools, for that matter.

My grandpa was a general contractor, and as such, left behind a large number of tools and materials after he passed away. Although my dad's parents lived with us for the last 15 years, I have never really known them on a terribly personal level. For whatever reason, I only got to know my grandpa after he passed away a few years ago, and of all ways, through his tools. He salvaged everything, from light switch cover panels to roofing nails. There's something about the way he stored all the odds and ends, nuts and bolts in old Macadamia nut cans, or the abundance of the stiff white nylon twine that he used to tie everything together with, that seemed oddly familiar, and oddly familial. I know it sounds corny, but I do feel a connection to him when I build things. With every turn of the hand-powered drill, with every stroke of the vintage Japanese saw, I can imagine my grandpa doing the same thing 50 years ago, back when Hawaii wasn't even a state, building not only houses, but a life for his family. I do feel proud, in an odd way, that I'm carrying on one of the few legacies our family has, even if I'm using it to build a rocket. My grandma gives me strange looks when she sees my projects, but she gave those same looks to my grandpa when he was alive, so I suppose not much as changed between generations.

Back to the rocket launcher. After 4 hours of Junkyard Wars-esque building, I finally assembled my rocket launcher. After hours of looking for a nut that would fit this one bolt, and trying to cut custom metal brackets, I produced this monstrosity:Though not the prettiest thing in the world, it works:

Tomorrow I'll do an actual test shot, since 9:00 at night is not the time to go to the park to try out such things.

Yup, four hours for something I could have bought online, or just decided it was too much work for a summer class I get paid way too little for. There are some moments when I have to stop and ask myself why I bother putting so much effort into these things.

My mom, being the superstitious type that she is, drew my attention to today's horoscopes for Aquarius:

You succeed because you work hard, and the tenacity and sense of purpose you bring to your work is rapidly becoming the stuff of local legend. A significant reward approaches.

Interesting, though such things are pure hokum. I'm taking the horoscope to mean some nice parent will bring me a box of cookies one day. Or a big wad of cash. One can only hope.

Truth be told, I'm really still a little kid at heart that likes to make cool things. This class is as much for my own amusement as it is for the kids. And plus, having my own bottle rocket launch pad will make this a very fun summer.