The gravity of the situation

Dear Elementary School Teacher,

If I tell you that you are literally pulled by the moon, the planets, the stars, you might agree with me if you are into woo-woo and astrology.

If you pride yourself on logic and rationality, you will likely dismiss me as someone into woo-woo and astrology.

But I’m not. (Well, not astrology, anyway.)

Look at the above. m stands for mass. Now I am not clear on just whatever mass means, but I’m pretty sure I’m made of it (m1). I’m also pretty (but not as) sure Jupiter has mass (m2) as well. And if both hold, I am pulling on Jupiter.

Right now.

The same holds true for your students. Let them know this is what the scientists think. Every time a student of yours jumps, the force between them changes for an instant. ‘The universe has been perturbed.

Given that we’re on a spinning planet orbiting the same star that Jupiter swings around I guess the jumping part is unnecessary, but why not give the kids a reason to jump for science.

(No need to introduce the formula yet. Save them something for high school.)

On the atom

Dear Elementary School Teachers,

Young children learn all kinds of nonsense in school, not the least is the composition of atoms using a model from 125 years ago. It’s cute hearing fourth graders talking of protons, and it’s an easy thing to test, but “knowing” about neutrons, protons, and electrons does nothing for a child’s understanding of the universe.

Ernest Rutherford’s atomic musings.

One important part of the atomic model is that everything is made up of tiny interchangeable bits that can be assorted various ways in various states of stability, but that’s for later in high school, if ever.

The other critical point is that these particles are always moving –*always!*–for reasons we cannot fathom.

Pollen grains getting pushed around by water molecules.

Have the kids run around a room screaming “I AM AM MOLECULE I CANNOT STOP MOVING” colliding and a spinning and acting like, well, mindless particles.

It’s why balloons pop, bridges shrink in the cold, why we age, why time itself happens.

And who knows, maybe it will spark the next Rutherford, Curie, or Franklin.

(You can see Brownian motion with a tiny drop of milk in a drop of water focused under a microscope. Amazes me every time….)

Molting

As the daylight shortens and the shadows grow longer, critters, human and otherwise, hunker down for the hungry days.

A ghost crab sits at the edge of the bay, exposed by the low tide, molting its summer shell before crawling deep into the beach to wait out the dark.

My skin lightens, melanocytes no longer waving tentacles laden with packets of pigment, no need to do the work when it no longer matters.

Through billions of years of evolution, doing pointless work leads to extinction. Laziness is a gift.

And here we are, pretending machines can make the pointless worthwhile.

Me? Time for a handful of freshly made bread, time for a nap, time to sit in the still warm October light.