Even God Can't Go Faster Than The Speed Of Light

The end is so close I can taste it. It tastes like Summer Rolls from Bangkok Chef. Fresh and cleansing. Sure, once the number I eat starts to reach the double digits, I get sick and can't stand the taste of them anymore, but for now it's what I'm craving. My palate is clean, and I'm ravenous. Cease this incessant teasing and titillation and just give it to me already. Let's finish this job, shall we?

I woke up today having very little idea what to do with my kids. I had hoped to do a Mythbusters type experiment with the older kids, but their lack of creativity, and complete failure to grasp what a "myth" was depressed me, and I decided to 86 the project. That, however, left me with a big gap in my lesson plans.

I had previously budgeted in a unit on light and optics, but it had been taken out to ensure time for electricity and sound. It was a simple solution to reincorporate that unit, but there was one problem. I had removed the unit long enough ago that I hadn't made detailed lessons and experimental plans. So after much mid morning scrambling, I came across a simple experiment that involved using the differences in the indexes of refraction between air and water to make a magic penny appear.

It works like this: Take a pan or some sort of shallow dish. Put a penny or some other flat object in the pan. Lower your head just until the point where the penny disappears below the rim of the pan. If you keep your head there, and add water to the pan, the penny will magically appear. I thought this was pretty cool, and so did most of the kids. A lot of them initially told me that it was because the penny was floating on the water, but then I asked the kids to look at the penny, and saw that it was not. I enjoy moments like these when I can get a kid to reevaluate an assumption, and come to a completely different outlook on the state of nature.

But sometimes I can't. So I wanted them to grasp how incredibly fast light is. So I gave them some numbers. The speed humans can run (I told them 10mph, which I have no idea if it's right. It's feasible), how fast cars drive around the school (25 mph), how fast I actually drive around the school (35 mph. Hey, I'm teaching kids not to play in the street and selecting for fast reflexes and agility in the human population.), as well as some other examples. I gave them the speed of sound (343 m/s which I calculate as about 730 mph, though don't quote me on that). Then I hit them with the big one. The Speed of Light in a Vacuum. Big 'Ole Mr. "C". And as any good scientist, I quoted as many significant figures as I could find. I come up with 299,792,458 m/s which comes out to something like 670,616,628.6 mph. This blew them away. Still blows me away too. It's fun to rediscover the wonders of science.

So as part of impressing them with this number, I stressed that this is the fastest thing out there. That nothing could go faster, or even come close to going as fast as light. Then someone chimed in with "God can!". This made me quiver a bit. For a few seconds I wrestled with the idea of whether or not I should bother with this. On one hand, they're dead wrong. In oh so many ways. But I thought it's not my place to interfere with how parents raise their children and what moral and belief structure they build. I mean, I have no problem with religion, and would not wish for a world without it. I just personally don't subscribe to all the bullsh*t. Then I thought of all the Social Darwinists throughout history, the failed attempt at Eugenics (which unfortunately hasn't completely died out yet) and other tales of misguided science and pseudoscience (I have a whole book on it. Try do research on homeopathy and the load of baloney that stuff is. Every gen chem student knows what dilution does. It certainly doesn't make medicine stronger). I decided I would fight, try to steer them the way of logic and reasoning, even if it meant crushing their belief in a bearded man in the sky. So I fought.

I told them "no, even God isn't as fast as light", and other variations. But they were adamant. I've never been in a room with so many fiery Christians before. At some point I thought, screw religious tolerance, and slipped in "okay, let's only talk about things that a real and aren't made up". I've dealt with many religious nuts before, to varying levels of success. But these kids were tough. I failed. They still believe in God*. I eventually gave up and moved on.
Hokum 1, Science 0.

There were some good points to day. I have one kid, G----, who I have a hard time dealing with. He's unmotivated and disruptive, which is a horrible combination. If I were a weaker man, I'd say he's mean to me. His favorite past time is telling me my drawings suck. Because I have to explain what's going on in things like circuits or sound waves, I've had to draw a lot. And G---- has always told me I've sucked at it. He says "you're drawings are so baaaaad. You should go to art school..." But today, oh glorious day of days, he told me my drawing of an eye looking into the pan for the refraction experiment was actually good:

I've found the kids like puzzles and problem solving type things. It started because while I'm waiting with them to be picked up by their parents (who always come late), they're restless and aimless. I want them to sit quietly and wait for their parents, but that's hard to do when kids have free time. So started giving them tasks. The first ones arose out of annoyance, so many kids were told to count the number of lines in the concrete (judging by the average response, the sidewalk has on average "many" cracks), or how many leaves there are on the tree in the courtyard (judging by the average response, there are roughly "I don't want to play this game anymore, Mr. Science" leaves on the tree). But after a while I started giving them actual thinking puzzles, figuring it was a good way to exercise their minds. One of my favorites is the 3x3 grid of dots and you're told to connect all 9 dots with only 4 connecting lines, which is the origin of the "think outside the box" phrase. I've done others.

This week, I made it formal, and gave them a puzzle at the end of their class. The challenge? Balance twelve nails on a 13th one. Nails can only touch other nails (other than the 13th one).

The people who encounter this puzzle are usually split into two groups: those who know the answer, and those who have no idea in hell what to do. Considering this is a well known puzzle (I think my dad showed it to me when I was little. Hi, dad, I know you're reading), there were a fair number of the junior leaders who knew what to do. But all the kids fell into the latter group. They tried their hardest, vainly stacking one nail atop the 13th one, but to little avail. I gave them hints along the way, but none could solve it. I couldn't solve it when I first saw it, so I didn't expect them to either.

For those of you who haven't seen this puzzle before, the solution will blow your mind. It looks like this:

Still one of my favorite puzzles because of the huge "ah ha" moment once you see how it's done.

Sorry for missing my shirt pocket on Friday. My shirt had no pocket and I was ashamed to let my readership know. Just kidding, my shirt looked awesome and made me look awesome. Definitely bringing it to school with me.

Here's this week shirt pocket:

: My ID, a base for the 12 nail puzzle, 24 nails (very heavy), two dry erase pens, a sharpie, a pencil, a pen, a sheet containing an email of a man I was supposed to send pictures to (not those kind of pictures), a newsletter for this program, a few Starlight mints, and my sanity.

Tomorrow is unofficially my last day teaching, since Wednesday there's a carnival type thing for the kids when I would normally be teaching. I'll have more time to ponder and reflect in the coming days, but for now, I would like to prepare for my teaching swan song. Still not sure what to do on this final day, but I'm going to make sure it leaves a lasting impression. Maybe a scar or two. For the Love of Science.

*'s ability to go faster than the speed of light

I Fancy Myself A Modern Day Robin Hood

I've done a lot for these kids and for this job. Money, time have all been doled out in copious amounts to educate these kids. Through all the crudola these putzes have given me, I still find myself wanting to give more. Like a mother bird gathering food for her fledglings, I can hear their unspoken bleating cries calling out for further stimulation. The need to give unto them is so strong I would do anything for them. I would even steal for them.

I continued my sound unit with the remaining kids who did not get it yesterday. I decided to nix the whole letting them make the Screaming Cup thing, since I was beginning to hear the shrieking everywhere I went (I actually saw one of my students at the market, and he snuck up behind me and did the cup thing. Not cool, dude. But I probably would have done the same thing). Previously, I had just given them a simple drinking straw to play with, but I felt like stepping it up.

You can make a slide trombone version of the reed straw by taking a Slurpee straw as the reed, and a Big Gulp straw (which is just slightly larger) as the slide. It works remarkably well, and has always been one of my favorite experiments.

When I usually do it, I only need a few for myself and a friend or two, so grabbing an extra straw as I walk out of 7-11 isn't a big deal. But when you have to acquire straws for 40 something straws, it becomes a bit of a logistical issue.

My sister drove me to work that day and stopped of at 7-11 with me. I had planned this maneuver out the night before, and after synchronizing watches, the operation commenced.

I sent my sister down one side of the store where the food is, as a distraction, to buy something for lunch. Meanwhiles, I snuck around the other end to where the Slurpee and soda machines were. I first raided the Slurpee straws, grabbing everyone they had and stuffing them in my pockets. I next moved to the Big Gulp station, and grabbed as many straws as I could. One of those two handed jobs (ha). As I met my sister at the counter (since it would look suspicious if I walked in and didn't buy anything), I realized a complication. I was trying to hide my pilfered straws below the level of the counter, but that was rather difficult since I had to hold the bundle with two hands, hunched over to keep the straws at the appropriate level. I became self-conscious of my suspicious posture and I began to panic. So I tried some inconspicuous whistling. But in my panic I had forgotten I don't know how to whistle. So as I stood at the counter, spitting more than anything else, I turned and realized that there was a mirror right behind me, revealing to the cashier what I was hiding. The jig was up. I straightened up, waved my bundle of straws at the cashier, and rushed out of the store before anything could be said.

The children are beginning to sense that school is beginning to wind down, as each day they are becoming more and more unmanageable. I think they've been squished together to long, as the forced interaction with their peers is starting to strain their relations and cause tension. Today was a day of drama. Many hurt feelings, much crying. Several kids were pulled from my class throughout the day to go through some conflict resolution stuff. The ones who weren't, I had to deal with myself.

I don't really know how to deal with most crying children. As an example, I had C group in the afternoon, and I had them cut something, so one of my kids, S-----, was using the scissors. At one point in the class, one of the kids came over and pulled on my shirt, and told me that S----- was crying. I asked her what was wrong, and she said F---- was being mean to her. I caled Faith over and asked her what was going on. Apparently F---- came over to her and asked "can I have the scissors to give back to Mr. Sakimoto" (by F----'s recounting). It didn't sound right, but since S----- wouldn't say a word, I had to assume Faith was telling the truth. But knowing how S----- and a lot of these kids are, it wasn't impossible. For a lot of these cases, my first instinct is to just tell the kids to suck it up. Some of them are so damn sensitive, that I have a hard time imagining them functioning in the real world. Some of them just need to grow a pair.

I also want to throw things at most of them. These kids have no retention, at all. I'm not talking about the material, but simple instructions. I tell them everyday "if we cannot get through the class without interruptions, we will not do the experiment" to which they all perk up and straighten up. I tell them "if you keep talking, we will run out of time, and you will just sit at your desk for the rest of the time, while everyone else does the experiment". This usually gets them to quiet down. Until the minute had moves another tick, or I start to talk, which they take as a sign to start talking as well. And it's impossible to get their attention. I flash the lights on and off, I yell, sometimes I just sit there until the talking stops. I really want to throw things at some of them, because more often than not, it is a few brats who can't keep quiet, who can't keep still, and who are ruining it for the rest of the students.

I feel bad about large group discipline. I always hated being punished as a group in school because the offender was never me. I was always quiet, respectful and well behaved, yet I would have to sit in the cafeteria at recess with my classmates because Chris couldn't stop himself from throwing food. And I can see the same frustration with some of my better kids. One girl, A----, is at times a little rambunctious, but always quiets down and pays attention the first time I ask her. But her classmates cannot. And I see the selfsame pain, frustration and fear that she won't get to do the experiment. I've learned ways to sort out the good ones and make sure they are rewarded for their outstanding behavior, but as the day wears on, and I become more stressed, agitated, and aggravated, it become harder and harder. And so it goes as it goes.

I've been told many many times before that children have an amazing, unhindered and unfettered creativity (watching too many TED talks). But I have yet to see it.

I decided to do something ambitious with my older kids with the last few days of this program. I love the show Mythbusters. Sure, it lacks the rigor of true scientific testing, and I find many faults with their methodology, but I love their spirit, and it's some of the best television out there. And I had tested the waters before pitching this idea. I had talked to many of the kids and asked if they had seen the show and knew what it was about, and many of them said yes, and seemed really excited to do a Mythbusters like experiment. So we went ahead with it.

The first day I decided I would just introduce the project, and have them brainstorm and come up with original ideas for myths. It was a struggle getting them to understand what a myth was. I tried to explain as best as I could, and gave many examples (like "you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar"), and I explained that it had to be something we could test and find out an answer to, but at the end of the brainstorming, many of the kids came up to me with lists like:

1. Egyptians
2. Zeus
3. Zombie

And then I tried to explain that it was like a story that you had to test to see if it was true. And I got lists that looked like these:

1. What if you went to the beach with your family and saw a bird?
2. Is it true that I saw you at the market yesterday?

I know they're trying, but I swear, so many WTF moments. To their credit, some of them came up with good ones, here's the complete list from my E group (the oldest ones, and the only ones who were able to come up with a list at all. The other groups either complained that it was too hard, brought me unusable things, or cried in the corner. Whoot):

• Do you sleep better with the lights on or off?
• Can you get sick from a dream (some of my kids claim this happens regularly)?
• Which catches more flies: Jackson Chameleon or a Frog?
• Which is dirtier: A fly or a cockroach?
• Can an average man lick his armpit?
• Does a dream catcher actually catch bad dreams?
• Does a gnat live better in water or Playdough (WTF?)
• Which will wear down faster: tennis shoes or high heels?
• Fire starting methods.
• Age at first white hair.
• Can you stand on 100 paper cups (I actually like this one).
• Can you count to 1000 in a minute?

Seeing that many were hopeless, I came up with a few fairy tales ones. My favorite one is the Humpty Dumpty nursery rhyme, particularly the line "and all the King's horses and all the King's men, couldn't put Humpty together again." What I would like to do is to drop an egg from a reasonable height, collect the broken shell, whites, and yolk, and see if you can reassemble the egg with glue and tape and such. I'm really excited about this, and might even do it myself, though after seeing what these kids are capable of, I'm a little doubtful they could handle.

As a closing thought, I have a suggestion for school systems across the country. Kids need to be trained in fine motor skills. So many of them have the hardest time folding paper in half, cutting with scissors, tying knots, passing string through a huge hole. I know they're young and uncoordinated, but many of them are simply hopeless without an adult. And so many are unwilling to try. They tell me it's too hard. And when I tell them they just need to give it a try, they become mad, or sad, and start crying. I can't deal with this. I need to start associating with people my own age for a bit.

And with that rantification down, I give you my shirt pocket:

: Many many Big Gulp straws, many many Slurpee straws, my ID, a pair of scissors, a homopolar motor, a Nature Valley Honey Oat bar, three pencils, two dry erase pens, one of those sweet high end erasers (confiscated), a paper airplane (confiscated), a paper clip necklace (confiscated. They were my paper clips), a slide trombone reed straw thing (confiscated. I warned them not to play with it in other classes), an eraser shaped like an Unagi-don (I kind of just wanted it).

Three more days of teaching, and a Field day type thing on the last day. The end is almost in sight, and I'm feeling groovy.

And if you've actually taken the time to read my inane ramblings and incessant rantings, thank you. I can't imagine people actually read this blog, let alone these obscenely long posts. And since very few will reach this point: baba booey baba booey baba booey baba booey.

The Other Teachers Hate Me

And with good reason.

Today we covered sound. I thought the best way to do this would be to make noise making things. However, since I'm still a young'n, a fresh-faced rather sophomoric teacher, I did not anticipate what sort of problem giving 90 kids noise making toys would create. And these weren't soft, clacking things. They were loud, roaring things.

One thing we made was a straw oboe. You cut the end of the straw off into an isosceles triangle, producing two triangular tabs, simulating an oboe reed. You blow on it, and it makes noise that sounds very much like what a bassoon reed alone sound like.

Pair this with another noise maker, and I was just asking for it. We made what's called a Screaming Cup (I should have been warned by the fact that it's called a Screaming Cup).

Ah, what a horrible cacophony today was. And some of the teachers weren't happy. But the kids had fun, I got paid, and no one died. And in all honesty, that's all that really matters.

Here's today's shirt pocket:

I've learned that if I leave anything out (i.e. not in my shirt pocket) the kids will take it and waste it. That's why I have: a packet of about 60 yellow straws, a pen, a pair of scissors, a packet of a balloons, A Nature Valley Oat and Honey granola bar, A Chex Mix Granola bar, and my ID.

I'm doing the sound unit with the rest of the kids today. I'd also like to do a Mythbusters-esque unit with the older kids, which we would start planning for today. We'll see how it goes. As usual.

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.

Everyday A New Adventure; I'm Beginning To Learn Their Names

I have to say that though most of my friends are off gallivanting across the globe, I'm perfectly happy to be home. This in part comes from being unable to imagine teaching this class anywhere else. I'm so exhausted at the end of the day (keeping in mind my job is only 3/4 time), that I couldn't imagine having to survive on my own in a foreign country on top of it all. But things are getting better, and easier, and for the first time, I'm beginning to enjoy this work.

Today was full of surprises. The first two classes I had in the morning were the older group (incoming 5th graders) followed by the youngest group (post-kindergarten). I'm beginning to pick out the students that I could do a lot with (whose names are incidentally the only ones I remember).

In the older group, there's a boy named J---. He's quite brilliant I have to say. I was sitting with him yesterday while he was waiting to be picked up, and he told me he wanted to be an engineer when he grew up (my heart honestly skipped a beat). We started talking about science, and about Mythbusters. He's really an awesome kid. And, English is not even his first language, to boot. Of all the kids, I think he has the most potential, and I can tell he's one of the few that's grasping the material. Not only do I feel he understands what's going on, but he's actively expanding on it, and asking more penetrating questions. A true scientist in the making, if I ever saw one.

In the youngest group is the most adorable little boy, J----. He's just come out of kindergarten, but he's easily the smartest kid up until the 4th graders. He's sharp, and quick. Today we were going over Bernoulli's Principle (from which came Mr. Sakimoto's Science Mantra "faster air is weaker"). I had given them a strip of paper across which they blew to demonstrate this principle. Next I made a penny flip over just by blowing across the top. I asked a few simple set up questions, like "is the air on top moving faster or slower". Before I even had to lead them to the right conclusion, J---- chimed in with the most eloquent (and correct) explanation why the penny jumped. He made the conclusion that if the air on top is moving faster, than the slower air on the bottom was stronger and pushed the penny up. Now, I was a little shocked (even my mom who was sitting in the room at the time was a little taken aback by his clarity). I was even more shocked when it took me the better part of 15 min to lead a group of 4th graders to the same conclusion, which ended in me basically telling them why the experiment worked.

I've come to realize that I can't teach all these kids. Some are just content to lie on the floor in the back, or stare at the blue smudge on the back of their hand. But there's a good number of attentive, intrigued, and engaged kids who sit right up at the front, hanging on my every word. This job is rewarding, as much of a pain as it is.

As I was driving home with my mom, she brought up something interesting. The way in which kids grow and learn these days is dramatically different than how I grew up, at little more than a decade ago. Parents are often to busy to engage their kids one on one (hence why many of them are in this Summer program), and often toss their kid the newest video game, or plop them down in front of the TV for a few hours. Rarely are these kids pushed by their parents to think and analyze. What little stimulation beyond The Disney Channel and Cartoon Network are these kids given on a daily basis? As evidence of how deprived some of them are, it was such a big thrill today when I gave them a straw to do experiments with. Now, on a Friday night, now that I have showered, eaten, played Rock Band, and have sat in a quiet room by myself for a few hours, I can say I'm happy to be doing this job. I looked in on the other classes in the program, and most of the time, the students were sitting at their desks, copying things off the board. Sure my class might be loud and hectic, but the kids are engaged, they're learning. But most importantly, they seem to be having fun.

I think I'm waxing a little sentimental right now, so let me bring up some highlights from today:
I have yet to be at the right place at the right time in the morning. I've either gotten there late or waited in the wrong place. Here's to next week and getting my shit together.

I think that around 4th and 5th grade is about the time when girls start to get a little boy crazy. There's a group of girls in the D group who pretty much climb on top of one of the junior counselors, I think his name is D-- or R----. This same group of girls have begun to poke me as much as they can, and bother me at every turn. Today, they started smelling me (yes, smelling me) and told me I smell like man-perfume, whatever that may be. This smelling carried on through lunch and through the entire day, interrupted only when they decided to go back to poking me. One of them, I think her name is S-----, insists on sitting right next to my leg, much too close for comfort, during class. I've imposed an invisible force field rule around me, but it doesn't seem to do anything. I wish they would stop smelling me.

Monday and Tuesday I'm going to attempt bottle rockets with them. Since I haven't done this since 7th grade, this weekend will involve me building a launching system, and test firing a few rockets. Next week should be interesting, as after the bottle rockets, we're moving on the Chemistry!!!

Lesson Plans Day 2: Propulsion Methods

I realize how ridiculous making lesson plans for some of the classes are. For the younger kids (3 of the 5 groups), the realistic lesson plans would go something like this:

1) Review Yesterday's Lesson
-"We made paper airplanes! Can we make more paper airplanes?"
-"Long and pointy planes fly farther"
-"Short and fat planes don't fly as far"

2) Get everybody to sit down again.

3)Review Yesterday's Lessons
-"I want to make a pointy one!"
-"Long and pointy planes fly farther"

4)How do propellers work?
-"They spin"
-"They push the air back and make the plane go forward"

5)Why does the balloon fly around when I release it?
-"Can I have a balloon?"
-"They push the air out of its butt"

6)Take everyone to the bathroom

7)Why does the plane move forward?
"IT PUSHES THE AIR BACK!"

8)Why does the balloon fly around?
-"IT PUSHES THE AIR OUT OF ITS BUTT!"

9)Repeat steps 8 and 7 until the end of class.


However, the older classes are simply a treat. The above material which takes the younger classes the entire hour, takes the older kids less than 10 min. I'm continually surprised by the incoming 5th grade class, who seem to know a lot of science as it is. They knew that air was a collection of particles, and even simple Ideal Gas Law relationships. I have high hopes for this class, and hope to be able to do a lot with them.

I've learned that the well known science mantra is very true:
If it's green and slimy, it's Biology.
If it smells, it's Chemistry.
If it doesn't work, it's Physics.

I tried to explain how rockets work. The combustion of the fuel heats the air, causing it to expand push the rocket (somewhat true, and somewhat untrue). In order to demonstrate that making air hotter causes it to expand, I stuck a deflated balloon on the end of a bottle. Normally, this is done with water, which is boiled, and the subsequent steam fills the balloon. But since I'm in a limited classroom space, I decided to use an empty plastic soda bottle, and a hairdryer from home. I had tried this out at home, and it worked fine. After 10 seconds or so of heating the bottle, the little balloon puffed up. However, once I got to the classroom, I ran into a problem I didn't expect. The plastic bottle started to melt, and expand, while the balloon did not. As obscenities started to fill my brain, I came up with a horrible solution: I surreptitiously squeezed the bottle, causing the balloon the puff up. Though I eventually figured out a way to do it, I feel a little guilty at fooling the little kids. But I don't think they really care. All they took away from the experience was "WE GOT TO PLAY WITH BALLOONS!!!". Which really, is fine by me.

Another lesson learned: if you give kids an instruction, like hold on to this balloon and don't let any air out, some will hold on to it so tightly that it will melt the balloon, sealing it shut. I'm constant surprised by how earnest, eager, and excited some of these kids are. Then again, I'm constantly surprised by how difficult most of them choose to make my life.

Tomorrow we will be covering Bernoulli's Principle, qualitatively. This has been done by almost every science educator in the country, and should be a lot easier. I'll post tomorrow specific demonstrations.

First Day Down, Too Many More To Go

So today was my first day teaching. Aside from a whole morning of confusion, because the people in charge have no idea what they're doing, the experience has left me decidedly against entering lower education as a career choice.

My plans were to conduct the lesson plans posted below. Ha, no such thing was followed. I tried with my first class (Kindergarten tykes), but 35 out of the 50 minutes was spent teaching them how to fold a paper airplane. Of which only 45% successfully folded something other than a ball.

Then, came the class of first graders. First graders are an interesting group, in that they're still young and immature, but they're starting to develop an attitude. After several minutes of yelling, threatening, and physically placing children in chairs, I was able to conduct a short lesson, from which they gleaned that "long and skinny" airplanes flew farther than "short and fat" ones. This mantra would be repeated throughout the day.

The day got progressively better, as the kids got older. I was actually pleasantly surprised by the rising 5th grade group, who knew what the Scientific Method was, used words like "aerodynamic" and talked to me about things like "lift", "wind resistance", and "drag". I have high hopes for them. They also came late in the afternoon and were very sleepy and sedate. I think they were my favorite class of all.

It's 1:30 in the morning, I haven't made lesson plans for tomorrow, and I'm exhausted both physically and mentally*, so I'll make this post short.

Here's some of my favorite quotes of the day:
Student: Are you one of the ones that grows walnuts?
Me: What?
Student: *mumble mumble* walnuts?
Me: Erm....no I don't grow walnuts.
Student: No, do you grow into a walnut?
Me: ...
Student: Do you grow into a walnut?
Me: No, go sit down and fold you airplane.

Me: What can you tell me about airplanes?
Student 1: The fly.
Me: Okay, what else.
Student 2: Umm, they...they....they fly.
Me: Okay, excellent...what else.
Student 3: I know, I know! They fly.
Me: Okay, let me ask you a different question: What do airplanes look like?
Student 4: They fly.

Student: Mr. Cortez..
Me: No, I'm Mr. Sakimoto.
Another Student: No you're not!
Me: Yeah, actually, I am.
Student: Mr. Cortez?
Me: Sure, fine, what do you want?

Student: Mr. Sakimoto, are you Mrs. Sakimoto's husband?
Me: No, I'm her son.
Student: Oh, that explains a lot.
My Mom: Yeah, I'd never marry him, I could do much better.



*I now understand why people drink.

Test Run

So, as tomorrow is my first day of teaching, I decided it would be prudent to make sure some of these experiments actually work. As posted previously, the first day will deal with aerodynamics, namely, making paper airplanes and flying them.

Since physics experiments never work as you would like them to, I decided to conduct my own experiment and analysis, in hopes that my findings lined up with what I will be teaching the kids*.

As such, I made 4 airplanes:
1) 8.5" x 11" Reynold's Recycled Aluminum Foil
-----Folded in the traditional airplane design (see pictures)

2) 8.5" x 11" Recycled Copier Paper (maker unknown, contained first page of "Seasons of Love" from the musical Rent).
-----Folded in traditional airplane design (see pictures)

3) 8.5" x 11" Recycled Copier Paper (maker unknown, contained fourth page of "Omigod You Guys" from the musical "Legally Blonde").
-----Folded in Stunt Model design, (see pictures)

4) Two (2) 8.5" x 11" Recycled Copier Paper (maker unknown, contained first page of "Seasons of Love" from the musical Rent and second page of "If We Hold On Together" from "The Land Before Time).
-----Folded in traditional airplane design (see pictures)

The results from the testing period are presented below. All planes were manually thrown from a height of 5'3" in the positive y direction. Initial velocities were not measured. An average wind velocity was measured at 4mph in the positive y direction.

Fig. 1: Scatter Plot of Flight Distances and Direction for Trial Day 1

Fig. 2: Absolute Displacement By Plane Type. Standard Deviation Presented In Error Bars.

Discussion:
The biggest surprise was that the aluminum foil was actually the lightest plane material, and therefore flew the farthest (Fig. 1 and 2). To be honest, I had chosen aluminum foil as a metal, with the notion that it's increased mass would show that heavier things won't glide as far. However, what I had failed to take into account was the fact that the foil could be rolled into a much finer and thinner material, reducing it's entire mass, while maintaining the equivalent surface area.

As expected, the less aerodynamic stunt plane (3) flew the shortest. It also exhibited the largest standard deviation, and deviation from center trajectory. Also, the double paper plane (4) flew slightly shorter on average than the single sheet equivalent.


Now what perplexes me is the Ring Plane presented in the first picture. I've seen them made, and decided to make one myself. True to form, they fly very far (not included in analysis, as no way of controlling initial impulse could be kept, since the launch style is different). However, I must admit I don't know why. I believe it has something to do with the lip on the ring, which does something with the boundary layer effect, however, since I have yet to take a Fluid Mechanics class, I'm not quite sure what to do with that. An explanation (one I could perhaps give to little kids) would be appreciated.

Here's to surviving my first day of work.



*not that I came into the experiment with preconceived notions of results, nor did I try to skew the results to fit my hypothesis.