High-Altitude Ballooning is a great STEM investigation!

With the help of Dr. Paul Adams of FHSU and some of his physics students, I received some training on deploying high-altitude balloons (aka weather balloons) with payloads dangling below.  Students will find this to be an exciting way to use technology in physics and engineering applications.  Check out the short video I made for my maiden flight.  While we still have some work to do figuring out how to reliably collect data using Vernier equipment, we did have success with the camera. 

 

High-Altitude Ballooning

 

We're ALL Homos

Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm not being politically correct--so you would think. I teach middle school, aka, pubescent little hormonal roller coasters that have little or no control over their bodies, mouths, and minds most of the time. I was teaching a lesson today about phylogeny and the way scientists classify forms of life--you know, kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, species (remember that?). Anyway, we were classifying human beings: Kingdom Animalia, Phylum Chordata, Class Mammalia, Order Primates, Family Hominidae, Genus HOMO, Species Homo sapiens. The kids giggled, of course, when we got to Genus HOMO. I knew they would. So I turned to them and I declared that we're all Homos. Yup, all of us! Because the word "homo" doesn't mean what they were thinking (if I need to explain what they were thinking, you must live in a cave or an Amish community). So, the next thing I know, I'm getting parent phone calls. Crap! Why am I teaching? Sometimes, I have no Earthly clue. I WANTED to tell these parents to get real and perhaps educate themselves so their children don't grow up to be the next ignorant leaders of this country.

Does it sound like I'm upset? Nah. It's all just a day in the life of the profession we call teaching. [Under my breath: @#$%!]

Do I plan to win any awards as a teacher? Not unless they start giving out awards for "The Ability to Refrain from Going Nuts in the Heat of the Battle We Call the Classroom: Teachers v. Parents and Their Spawn." Thanks. I feel better now . . .

Where is Humanity Headed?

I love this illustration. It pretty much sums up what I see happening to us, in general, as a species. If any of you have seen "Idiocracy" (dumb movie, but with an undeniable message), you know what I mean. It shows the dumbing-down of the human race in a comedic fashion. However, the shear stupidity portrayed--due to the repeated breeding of the idiots in society (the intelligent ones have chosen not to reproduce) is something that I am noticing more and more right here in real life.

Now, I don't claim to be a friggin' genius, by any means, but I don't scratch my ass in public or dress up to shop at Wal-Mart (I'm not sure what that means), nor do I have living room furniture on my lawn or lawn furniture in my living room. I do have my concerns about the future of the species. Mostly because of the effect we have on other innocent species. There are no checks and balances on who reproduces and how they raise their young. Maybe we need to have some sort of natural predator to weed out the feeble minded . . . I have a pretty good hiding place. How 'bout you?

ADDICTED TO GROCERY BAGS! You'll Hafta Pry Them from Our Cold, Dead Fingers

Sierra Club's recent edition of the Insider tells the tale of possibly the deadliest item in your grocery store: the plastic grocery bag. The bags--most of which are made from petroleum--do not biodegrade, and the claim is that many (I mean MANY) end up blowing into and collecting in the ocean--to the tune of a blob of bags in one area twice the size of Texas . This area of the Pacific Ocean, called the Northern Pacific Gyre, has amassed these bags and fragments thereof that just keep swirling in a giant vortex of ocean currents. Estimates are that in the U.S. we throw away 100 billion plastic bags each year--which amounts to a whopping 12 million barrels of oil! I think it's time to BYOB, as suggested by Orli Cotel in her Sierra Club radio interview (Listen to the interview at http://sierraclub.typepad.com/insider/2007/09/the-deadliest-i.html).

I have been carrying canvas bags to the grocery and dime stores for about 2 years now. I bought a couple of bags and had some leftover canvas from an art project that was heavy-duty enough to stitch into bags of various sizes (with handles). I have also picked up a couple of teacher tote bags at garage sales that work mighty fine.

There has been a blue bag stuck in my neighbor's tree for months now, just flappin' in the wind. I see them stuck in fence rows when I drive down the highway--acting as though they were meant to be there, right alongside the waving tall grasses and cottonwood leaves. The least the manufacturers could do would be to make them in colors that blended with nature. But, then, I suppose we wouldn't be as likely to see the advertised store name on the bag, flying through the air, destined for the first thing to snag it up. I could've sworn I saw a crow wearing a Wal-Mart bag as a raincoat yesterday . . .

Check this page to see an animation of how the bags get caught up in ocean currents: http://oceans.greenpeace.org/en/the-expedition/news/trashing-our-oceans/ocean_pollution_animation

Zeitgeist--"Spirit of the Age"

Recently I watched a movie online called Zeitgeist. I've read about and seen quite a bit of conspiracy theory stuff in the past, and it's all so hard to sort through, but this movie SCARED me. It's about religion and politics and the marriage between the two, and the corruption that both have undergone. If you have a chance to watch it, it can be seen on http://www.zeitgeistmovie.com/ . It's a full documentary, so it's a good 1 1/2 to 2 hours long, but it will keep your attention the entire time. The guy who wrote/produced the film did a lot of research and lists his sources, but--WOW--it's hard to believe that we humans could possible be so very ignorant and easily brainwashed. It's certainly a thinker-movie!

Birthday Cards from My Insurance Company . . .

Well, here I am after a serious amount of time off from writing. Honestly, I haven't been too busy--I have just been neglectful. Summer is nearly over, and for a teacher (as I am), that's like an impending death of some sort. I can feel the end, looming over my head, and it unmotivates me. I have things to do! But instead, I find people to argue with on Slate over silly subjects like whether Scientology is a cult or not. Yeah, that's fun and all, until a bunch of idiots with poor grammar start posting their pointless points. . .

Today is my birthday. Big whoop, you say. I say that, too. My husband and daughter, both of whom called, are in the Army Reserve and are off doing their annual Army Reserve duties, so I am alone. My son is around and will stop by later to have a piece of the birthday cheese cake I am baking for myself, as we speak. He always entertains me and cheers me up--sometimes to the point where I hurt from laughing. I have received a couple of perfunctory phone calls from other family members feeling obligated to remember me on "my day." It's not that I'm not loved, I truly believe. It's just that maybe birthdays really aren't all that important except to the person that is having them, especially when that person has become an adult.

Now, I hope I am not coming across as pouty or depressed. On the contrary. I am amused by one aspect of this birthday, most certainly. And that is because I received more birthday greetings from non-family/friends, including cards from an insurance company, my chiropractor, and the school district where I teach. The most amusing part about it is how most of them were signed: Best wishes from the office of . . . So in essence, I received most of my birthday greetings from buildings.

The day is not over. The cheesecake is nearly done. And I do expect at least one more call from a brother upon whom it will dawn that it is his kid sister's big day today. If he doesn't call, well, I just might stop baking him cookies for HIS birthday. Or I might just send him a card that reads from the House of Jenny. That'd teach him . . .

WAL-MART: Public Enemy Number 1

Wal-Mart. A friendly name, a friendly place to shop. A place where Smiley is always slashing prices for all of America.

At the expense of America. Smiley might as well be slashing the throats of Americans. It has taken inumerable jobs from American workers and has given them to the Chinese. About 70% of all the goods sold in Wal-mart stores come from China--about $18 billion worth. Shame on you Wal-Mart.

Wal-Mart is killing small town America. They claim they have done more good for the communities of America than not. And dumb Americans are believing it. It is a vicious circle, indeed. The poor, welfare recipients of our country are grateful for cheap (I emphasize CHEAP)goods, not realizing that the jobs used to make these goods could have been American jobs used to help these poor people earn a living. Wal-Mart is committing first degree murder on America. And, Wal-Mart is one of the largest supporters of the Chinese military. Some day this will come back to haunt us. Think about it. We help support China's economy, though their own poor still suffer. Where do you think the money is going if we're spending so darn much on Chinese goods? Not its people, you can bet on that! China is able to build up their military powers due to our support whenever we buy products made in China--a majority of which are being purchased at Wal-Mart stores. And it has been reported that China's military is approaching the U.S. military's technological status, once again due to our support.

When will we wake up and see that there is a high cost to Wal-Mart's low prices? We need to take action. We need to stand up and say, "I will not be a part of this Wal-Mart machine." I, for one will not be a part of the "Smiley mentality." Put a little moustache on Smiley's upper lip. Resemble anyone you've seen before?

http://www.walmartmovie.com/watch.php
http://www.businessweek.com/bwdaily/dnflash/jul2005/nf20050726_3613_db016.htm
http://www.comlinks.com/polintel/pi050223.htm
http://www.willthomas.net/Convergence/Weekly/China.htm

No Teacher Left Behind

Here's a Letter to the Editor I wrote that appeared in the Hays Daily News, Hays, Kansas, November 6, 2005

"Dear Editor,

I write to vent some frustration. I do not intend to be mean—I just want to vent and, perhaps, clarify a couple of things. I am a teacher and I am getting weary.

Our current administration has dictated that no child is left behind. Herein lies my frustration. I am busting my backside to be a better teacher in every way I can. I try to teach kids the things they need to know according to this doctrine. It is hard. It is very, very hard. Here’s why: I have some parents who do not realize that I have around 90 students to teach each day. I want to give each and every one of them my full attention, but time does not allow it. As it is, I end up using way too much of my time dealing with disruptive students, trying to get them to want to learn so that I—and they—do not fail “No Child Left Behind.” Then I also like to contact the parents of these children to see if we can work out recurring problems. Occasionally I find that many of the parents of these children exhibit the same behaviors as their children, so it is not always an easy task to talk a parent into seeing things through a teacher’s eyes. Therefore, this takes even more time. In taking time to deal with these discipline problems, I end up neglecting, to some degree, the needs of the students who truly want to learn—whose parents fully support what I am trying to do. These are becoming the children who are left behind.

Students who WANT to learn are the ones being pushed aside so that I may pamper and devote excessive time to those who DON’T want to learn. Do you see the irony here? I am not alone in my frustration. I have also seen some parents of difficult children wanting to run the show, to demand that their children receive special treatment by teachers, administrators, and paraprofessionals. Everyone is walking on eggshells with these parents. Well, frankly, I’ve become so weary that I am seeking the help of the parents who have the children who DO want to learn, who are not problems on a daily basis. You need to start speaking out. If you think the teachers of your children are doing a good job, you need to tell the school administration, school board, and community how you feel. You need to help defend the privilege of education.

I am tired—I am under stress. I regularly work 10 to 12 hours a day during the school week. Then I go home to grade papers and prepare more for the next day. I also spend 4 to 6 hours at the school on most weekends. In the summers, I am continually researching information for the upcoming year, as well as taking college courses to strengthen my knowledge base to make me a better teacher. I use my time efficiently. I am not complaining about the hours—I love to teach and I love to learn. I am constantly trying to find new ways to facilitate student learning—to make it interesting for them. I am not alone in this quest. I see my colleagues doing the same: neglecting their families and private time to be good teachers. Sometimes we do this, only to find a note or message on the answering machine from a parent who has no intention of supporting what we are trying to do. It’s often like paddling against the current—only it seems more often than not that it is during a storm.

I once received a phone call from a parent letting me know how much I meant to her child as a teacher. That phone call made my day, maybe even my whole year. I teach because I love teaching. All I ask is that I am allowed to do my job.

Educationally yours,
Jennifer T-W
Middle School Science Teacher, Kansas

Seeing in the Dark

Being an adult has its ups and downs as anyone who has reached this point knows. I am older now, I should be more responsible. Especially since I am a teacher--one who influences young minds. But I am also human.

I am of the mindset that in order to reach my students, I often have to think like them. Thus enters, by proxy, the urge to ACT like them. Sometimes, anyway. I had a student who would not believe that it is light that allows him to see (understanding that all of the physical connections from eye to brain are functional). He told me and the class that he can see in the dark. I allowed the students to discuss this for a while, and the concensus--sans this one student--was that one cannot see in the dark. If you think you can see, it is because there is a little light from somewhere reflecting off the objects in some way so you are able to perceive them.

To prove the point, I located a totally dark room--the locker room--to take these junior high school students into. Yeah, I know. Probably a dumb idea in the first place. But these kids are pretty good kids for the most part. I had them line up along the wall while the light was still on. We talked about the persistence of vision--the lingering image your brain holds on to after the light is removed--so they would not misunderstand this initial sensation. I flipped off the switch, they screamed, and then they settled down so I could test them.

Here is where my juvenile behavior ensued. I knew they could not see me, so I asked them what I was doing, based on what they could see. I, of course, focused on the student with the notion that he could see in the dark. I asked, "Jordan, what am I doing now?"

He said, "You're standing there."

Duh. And I said, "Duh. No, what am I doing with my right hand?" I was making the sign of "loser" on my forehead. Of course he had no idea, and I didn't tell him. Then I made some faces and a few other gestures they couldn't see. I asked about all of them and lied that I was holding up so-and-so number of fingers (I guess I was holding up one specific finger in one instance), waving my hand, etc.

Then, I began to take advantage of the darkness, and realizing how easily frightened I was at that age, began to tell them of cave madness, the affliction that hits people who have become trapped in caves for even moderate periods of time. Since those trapped cannot see, their minds begin to play tricks on them, and often their greatest fears "appear" to them in this state. I told them of ghosts and demons people had "seen." They began to get pretty excited and nervous, and I could sense the tension in the air. I smiled evilly, since they couldn't see me. They chattered amongst themselves, recounting and sharing their own memories of fright.

I seized the moment and sneaked away from the bunch and just let them talk, letting them believe I was still there with them. I could hear them, but was a good 25 feet away by the light switch. It was then that I let out a low growling moan that turned into a blood-curdling howl! They screamed like banshees, and I flipped on the light. Boy, were they mad at me!

I asked Jordan if he still believed he could see in the dark. He scowled at me, then laughed. "No, I don't. I think I was being stupid." Then he held up his right hand to his forehead, looked at me and made the "loser" sign.