QUOTE (JRehling @ Aug 17 2008, 06:25 AM)
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For younger kids, this sounds like a lesson designed to be one of those where the educator speaks, heads nod, and the hour passes.
If they're a
rubbish educator, yes.
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I have a hard time understanding how
any teacher can make astronomy (there are planets with rings! a comet helped kill the dinosaurs! stars are enormous flaming balls of gas! when some stars die they turn into black holes that EAT other stars! Mars has a volcano 2x higher than Mt Everest!!) boring, but I've heard a few, or rather gone into a class after a teacher has "introduced" a class to astronomy and liquified their brains with a boredom ray, then I have had to try and stuff the gunk back into their skulls and get it to set again in an hour...
To be fair, most teachers simply don't have the time, resources or knowledge to cover the subject well - they have so many subjects to teach, it's hardly surprising - which is why they're (usually) very grateful to have someone come into a class and cover it for them, leaving them more time to deal with the Egyptians, the Victorians or whatever. Some teachers sit in on the talk and are as enthralled as the kids, as it's all "new stuff" to them too; others don't give a stuff and sit at the back, marking papers, preparing the next lesson, or flicking through the latest copy of "Celebrity Hello Ok Weddings", which is sad, and frustrating, and I want to grab them by the neck, Darth Vader style, lift them off the floor and tell them how they should be soaking up the info to pass on next time, but I don't. Besides, that kind of behaviour makes a repeat visit to a school rather less likely...
I've been on quite a - god, I hate this word, but I figure most people will relate to it so I'll use it - journey as an Outreacher with this whole Pluto thing. Before the IAU meeting I was pretty sure they'd leave Pluto alone and increase the number of planets in Sol system, not decrease it, and I even said as much in an interview feature thingy with my local TV station ("I think Pluto's safe," I said confidently into the camera, posing beside my telescope in the middle of the day. Shows what I knew, eh?). When the decision came down I was, frankly, furious. I saw it as a step backwards, and thought the IAU had bottled it, thrown away a chance to enhance the wonderous nature of the solar system, and tossed away an opportunity to show that astronomers and scientists can be bold and embrace new things and be, well, exciting! I thought the decision was cowardly and weak, and thought they had been pathetically meek about the whole thing.
( Of course, those opinions were based more on me being a die-hard (and often derided, lets face it) romantic and sentimentalist who has what many - here and elsewhere - believe to be an unrealistically melodramatic view of the universe and our place in it. I make NO apology for that, and never will; I'm not an engineer or a physicist, I'm just a guy who finds joy standing in a field at midnight watching shooting stars skate across the sky, who has actually cried when probes have landed safely on Mars, and gets all emotional thinking about the day Oppy or Spirit dies. Some people (not
here, I hasten to add, although I can sense some people shaking their heads when they read my posts
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) find that ridiculous, I know, but I don't lose any sleep over that; I'm confident and content that I see and feel the universe more personally and more intimately than they ever will
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I wasn't angry because of any scientific arguments, which many others here are more qualified to make, I was angry because through my eternally rose-tinted telescope eyepiece it was just wrong, a step backwards. I loved the idea of the planetary population growing; it just seemed so exciting! I'd have loved telling kids that there were new planets in our solar system! I'd actually been looking forward to it! Now... now I had to tell them that one of the planets they already knew wasn't a planet anymore. How the hell was I going to explain that, 1) when it was scientifically complicated, and 2) when I didn't agree with a damned word of it?
Well, it's my
job to do that, as someone who is allowed to go into schools and given the privilege, honour and enormous responsibility of standing in front of a group of kids and putting new information into their brains, info which is going to stick there, so you'd better get it right... So what I've been doing is putting both sides of the debate, whilst acknowledging that it's something I feel personally quite strongly about but asking the kids to just think about it, watch what happens, and consider the Pluto thing as part of the Big Picture. It hasn't been easy; I started off post-IAU decision very angry and quite flustered about it, and I'm sure I left a couple of classes more confused about the issue than they were before I started, but hey, I'm only human.
But now, having been educated about the science behind this debate - to a large part here on UMSF by people who I respect enormously - I see this as a great opportunity to educate kids about how science works and to get them interested in and talking about planets. And this most definitely
is a subject and issue that young kids (and I'm talking 7-12 yr olds here) can be taught about, if you have the patience, enthusiasm and, yes, skill to put it across. Now I am able to tell kids about
Pluto That Was,
Pluto That Is, and speculate about
Pluto That Will be When New Horizons Flies Past. I get to talk about the same planet in three different ways! Win, Win, Win! Sure, it's been an absolute disaster, the way it's been handled, and Doug's right when he says that it's been bad for science and has been a destructive thing; I personally think it has made the IAU and astronomers look like befuddled old boffins with wild white hair and stained lab coats who shuffle about their dusty observatories in a fluster, unable to make up their minds about something incredibly important. But we are where we are, and we can either gnash our teeth or smile and get on with it. A while ago I would have done the former, but now I try and do the latter, and I think that when I talk to a class about this I give them an idea of how important it is that science keeps moving on, taking note of changes and new discoveries, and coming out the other side better.
In an ideal world I'd be able to tell them that sometimes science CAN be sentimental and romantic, and do the Right Thing rather than the Accurate thing, i.e. leave Pluto as an "honourary planet" simply because of its wonderful history and place in people's hearts and damn the science, but I guess, sadly, that will never happen.
I saw Pluto once, through a big telescope. Looked like a star. Strangest thing tho... looking at it I felt quite moved. Not like I was looking at a star at all...