Marsbarn Designs...

A (slightly snarky) Physics Takeaway

When people ask, "What's your degree in?"
And I say, "Physics." 
They often pull back in shock, and then say, 
"Wow.  What do you do with that?"
Followed by, "Why aren't you still doing, you know, 'Physics Stuff'?"

And while I could do the philosophical (and slightly snarky)
"All things are Physics Things!", I instead think about 
what I actually do with my wee physics degree,
now that it's been nearly 20 years since I got it stamped.

I spent 5 years getting a degree in Physics, 
and what has stayed with me? Well.  Let's see.
Shall we have some bullet points?
I learned:
-How to roll with a 90% male class.
-How to deep breath through tests that are impossible to finish.
(This is a most useful skill, as Real Life has lots of tests
you can't finish or pass.)
-The power of a grading curve. (35% for a B! YES!)
-Faith in yourself really does count for a lot. 
-A RPN calculator is a great ally.
-Write it all down. All of it. It might make sense later.
-Balance. (My minor was in Women's Studies. My classes
were either 90% testosterone or 90% estrogen.)
- Always have a back up pencil, and don't be afraid to lend it to someone in need.
-Take breaks, and walk.
-No one actually knows the answer. (Really. It's all open for debate.)
- When you hit a brick wall, wing it and keep going.

That winging it thing?  What do I mean? I mean when 
you have no inkling of what to do next, look at your tools
and try something else.  I have vivid memories of staring
at pages of homework calculations and feeling lost, 
and then starting again by making a list of "What I Know."
For example: I know the force of gravity G(m1)(m2)/r^2,
I know Force=(Mass)(Acceleration), etc.
Then I'd think about how I could use all of those elements
in a new way. "How does it look with the collar turned up?"*
With a list in hand, I'd start banging away at it again.

That "What do I know" re-hashing?  I use it all the time in
math tutoring.  When I see my students feeling lost, 
I ask them to review what they know, what they
remember, and then ask them what new things they
could try using that.  It is nice to be reminded that you
have tools at hand.

To me, physics is all about figuring out how to use what
you know to learn more things. It's a constant reassessing
of what knowledge you possess, or think you possess, 
and then trying to fit it together into some else. 
It's the ability to have a lego set, make the nifty thing
on the box, and then to tear it apart and make something
else. All the while knowing that you'll never make all the
things, and the creation you are working on might not 
ever work.  You will probably have to tear it apart again,
and start over.  

And why don't I do physic-y physics? (IE why don't I have a 
career in the field?)  Well, the physics that I loved most,
we covered in the first two years of classes.  The smaller
our physical scale became, the more theoretical the
classes, the less I loved it.  There was too much "all in my
head" stuff, and not enough "LOOK" here it is!  Also,
a bachelor's degree in physics is just the first step on a long
and difficult journey toward greater degrees (think Frodo
and Sam carrying the ring to Mordor.  A BS is just getting
to Rivendell. I'm more of a Bilbo, let's settle here! type.)

 

*That quote is a insider reference to a family member who,
when faced with a new garment in the 1980's and 90's,
would ask, "But how does it look with the collar turned up?"  
In other words, if I just tweak it a little, is it better? Worse?
Could this simple alteration be the Thing?

Everyday scientist

I am a scientist.
And that's not a dirty word.

It's not the degree in physics that does it,
nor that I've been paid to wear a lab coat,
nor the calculus done in a past life.

It's the way one approaches life.
It's a questioning of why and how, and then
working to answer those questions.
It's a desire to see cause and effect,
to work a scientific method of research and 
theory into everyday life. 
It is a sense of wonder.
Curiosity.
It is a willingness to say, "I do not know, but I want to."

One of the major disconnects between school and life
is how science is approached.  In most academic
settings science is portrayed as a subject where people
know things. It is a world of absolutes and memorization.
I know Force=(Mass)(Acceleration).  
I know the elements of the periodic table.
It is rules and definitions.
But this is the frame work for science, not what
scientists do in real life.  Scientists out in the world
are searching, asking questions, discovering, working
with unknowns, and putting forth theories.
It is a world of many questions and few absolutes.
It is a taking of what is known, and applying it to 
something unknown.
It is a mindset, not a set of qualifications.

This is how I can be scientist while I nurture my children,
or bake a cake, or sew a better seam, or tend to a 
garden, or organize an art project, or tutor math.
I take what I know, or think I know, I apply it to a new 
setting, I ask questions, I try solutions, I take data,
I listen, I reassess, I try again.

Being a scientist means not staying with what you know;
it means exploring new ideas through logic and
experimentation, learning new things, and, sometimes,
being vulnerable to the unknown.
It means success and failures, and taking risks.

Being a scientist is not related to gender, or age, or
education, or titles.  It is a mindset. 

Are we in the right room?

Annenberg Media very kindly put me up in this lovely hotel which is attached to the largest convention center I have ever seen. Do you see the rounded roof in the bottom of my cityscape photos? That is the domed roof of the exhibition hall. Even from my 13th floor vantage I could only see half of the length of the building. I think I walked miles to get to the room where my panel was held.
This is the room in which my panel was held. When I walked in to this room I thought, "Man, this is going to be so sad when only 10 people show up to hear me talk." So, at about fifteen minutes before the scheduled start time the ten people I expected came in, and I was introduced, shook hands, and started to talk to them. The room was becoming really noisy. So I turned around, and the room was full. I mean Full, full. As in people standing in the back... as in 300 people full. As in, maybe I am in the wrong room and maybe these people came for someone else like Bill Nye the Science Guy. But no, they were here for A Private Universe, and for me. And then the presentation started.

Matt Schneps and Philip Sadler who originally masterminded the making of A Private Universe acted as moderators for the presentation. They started out by asking how many people had seen A Private Universe, a flood of hands went up. Then the guest speakers started talking about the effect APU has had on their work. Irwin Shapiro who was the director of the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics when the film was made spoke, followed by Joe Novak, Bassam Shakhashiri, Joel Mintzes, and Jim Wandersee. Any time one of these amazing men mentioned my name, I would jump a little. It was a very surreal experience to see this time capsule of my thoughts being analyzed again and again.

Then Matt and Phil took the podium again. A 20 year old photo of myself flashed on the presentation screen. "Do you recognize this person?" People chuckled. Then they asked how many people had memorized the dialogue from APU. A second flood of hands rose. "Well, she is here with us today!" There was a collective gasp, followed by applause and cheering. And, as I rose to walk to the stage, what was the thought that was foremost in my mind? "Oh, I have to pee."

I stood at the podium and waited for the applause to stop. Everyone was smiling. There was a universal aura of familiarity and warmth coming from the people gathered in the room, and I relaxed. I have never stood before such a large audience, but I honestly felt like I was with a group of friends. "Hi" I said. "Hi" they said back. And I started to talk.

Originally I was supposed to stand and answer questions, but just before the presentation started I realized this wouldn't work. The questions would come higgledy piggledy and I would end up telling my story like an iPod set on shuffle. So I started at the beginning and gave a speech without notes or planning.

"I want to start by thanking my Mom. Without her none of this would have been possible; she signed my permission slip." And I went on from there talking about the process of doing the interviews, of my ignorance APU's fame, of being stopped on the street 4 years after filming by a man who recognized me from the film, of discovering physics and going to the University of Oregon. At the end of my story, I did answer questions. There were an amazing variety of questions, and I tried my best to answer them all. I talked for more than 30 minutes. And after the presentation I talked to people individually. Throughout my part in the presentation I felt more relaxed than I have at dinner parties. I even forgot about the bathroom.

Now that I am home, I am still processing all that happened at the presentation. All of these people felt such a very strong connection with my 14 year old self! It is astonishing to me that the words of a high school freshman trying to figure out astronomy on the fly could touch so many people. Who knew that being wrong could do so much good?

What a whirlwind!

Oh my. My mind is still whirling and trying to make sense of the sensory overload that was my trip to Boston. This photo, one of many taken from my hotel room, was taken on the first evening of my five day stay. At this point, I had already found the room for my presentation, ridden on the subway, gone to Harvard Square, eaten dinner, been recognized from the documentary, and only just realized that I am actually there.. in Boston for the first time in almost 17 years and getting ready to be part of a Huge convention. Oh my.

A Private Universe: 2 weeks to go

A Private Universe countdown:
Two weeks from today I will make my way to Boston. I have not been back to my childhood home for 16 years. The hotel reservations are set, the plans are laid, I will see the two people I miss most who still live in the area, and I am getting my hair cut tomorrow (first time in over a year!). But, I am still not entirely sure what I am going to talk about on the panel. Last night, I girded my loins and listened to my squeeky 14 year old self give the Wrong answer about the seasons, again. This is the erroneous answer that launched a thousand ships a million donor dollars. Pretty surreal, really.

A Private Universe

Whhhhheeeeee! I am so excited... Why?
Okay story time.

Once upon a time, I went to a large public high school which was chosen to be part of a research project produced by the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics. (This was due largely to proximity. The high school was blocks away from Harvard's campus.) I was one of two dozen students from my class to be questioned about the changing of the seasons and the orbit of the Earth. All because my mom signed my permission slip. Did I mention they filmed all our answers?
Well, that was the end of it. Until, as a senior in high school, I was stopped on the street by a very academic looking man (tweedy coat, glasses, slightly distracted looking) wanting to know if I'd been in a 'movie'. I said, "No." (Visions of adult type movies flashed through my suspicious mind.) But my mom said... "Well, there was that research project when you were a freshman.."
It turns out that research project, A Private Universe, had become famous in academic circles. In fact, it is still used for fundraising and for science education programs. I am, in very, very small circles, famous for my part in the film. Yes, that's me as a young'n in the photo.
What I haven't mentioned is that my answers that I gave in the program are wrong. Outrageously wrong. So incredibly wrong that the researches developed theories about my wrongness.

What brings all this to mind? Today I recieved an email inviting me to a 20th anniversary event for the documentary. (Wheeeeee!!) I am on cloud nine! This is so cool. If it really goes through (there was talk a couple of years ago about filming a sequel that never materialized), I will go to Boston in March to attend a National Science Teachers Association (NSTA) conference.