There
are no
limits on
the creativity of questions that a curious child can come
up with:
“Why is Earth
the only planet with life?”
“What would
happen if the sun disappeared?”
“If you were to
fly a spacecraft to Neptune and go through the gas, would the fire
from the rockets ignite the planet?”
“How do we know
that Pluto is icy if we've never been there?”
“What happens
when you die in space?”
These
are just a few of the many questions and
comments I encountered last month during presentations
about “Seeing the Solar System” that I gave to six
5th
grade classes at Sailorway
Middle School in Vermilion, Ohio.
Some
of the questions allowed me to go into more detail on the
subject at
hand:
“Why
is Pluto not a planet?”
Some were quirky,
but oddly perceptive:
“Herschel's
telescope looks like a guillotine, but without the blade.”
 |
| Model of the telescope William Herschel's used to discover Uranus. From the Herschel Museum in Bath, UK. |
“Galileo's
fuzzy view of Saturn looks like a pig's nose.”
Some of them
allowed me to discuss related topics:
“Why
does the Earth go in a circle around the sun?”
“How
do you
measure the speed of light?”
“What
would happen if you fell into a black hole?”
But
my favorite comments and questions allowed me--a representative of the Black River Astronomical Society, and the supposed “expert”
in the room--to see the things I was talking about in a whole new
light. When I showed
Cassini's picture of Saturn viewed from its nighttime side, one
student said:
“It's like if
we had Saturn as a moon on Earth, and it was making a solar eclipse.”
 |
| image credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/SSI |
And
after showing pictures of Mars' surface taken by Curiosity Rover that were reminiscent of the
Arizona desert, a shy little girl came up and suggested
to me that:
“Maybe a piece
of Mars came off and formed part of planet Earth?”
 |
| image credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/MSSS |
Though her
hypothesis was incorrect, the insight behind it led to a discussion
about how similar elements and processes formed features on both Mars
and Earth.
My
talk's focus
was that astronomy is a science based on observation, and that there
are different things we can learn about our “local neighborhood”
based on what we see through our eyes, and various technologies like
telescopes, spacecraft, rovers, and even scientific illustration. My
goal was to encourage students to visualize the places and ideas they
were learning about in
class, and to equip them
with various means to actually observe some of these objects for
themselves. I brought along two telescopes as visual aids—a
borrowed BRAS Dobsonian (“That looks like a cannon!”),
and a small refractor—and allowed the kids to take turns looking at
the mirrors and through the finder scopes (“Whoa, the dots on the
ceiling are really close!”).
The
sessions were great fun. There is nothing quite like standing in
front of a young audience when they see something wonderful for the
first time—hearing that
excited intake of breath when the “lightbulb” goes off, or
watching a forest of hands erupt when a tricky question yields a
surprising answer. And
when faced with their
awesomely daunting array of questions ranging from “Is a supernova
like the Big Bang,” to “Can you walk on the rings of Saturn,” I
am encouraged by the engagement and interest such queries display. In
a time when media warns of students falling behind in math, science,
reading, and creative arts, and when the glitz of commercialism
threatens to stifle participation with the natural world,
organizations like the Black River Astronomical Society offer a valuable means for children
of all ages to get involved
with a creative and stimulating science as part of a welcoming local
community. I am grateful to
play some small part in that
mission. Even beyond the
enjoyment I get from learning the sky—from acquainting myself with
its patterns and cycles, or
resolving beautiful objects of unimaginable scale—I've discovered
that the driving motivation behind my interest in astronomy is
sharing and experiencing it with others.
I'd like to send a
big “Thank You!” to Mrs. Julie Zelina at Sailorway Middle School
for allowing me, on behalf of BRAS,
to participate in her classroom...and an even bigger “Thank You!”
to all of her students and their fascinating questions!
