In our family we “do” Science Fair the same way other families “do” soccer…or gymnastics…or professional ice skating…or junior beauty pageants…or organized crime. We don’t so much “do” Science Fair as live it.
Our Science Fair efforts are generally divided into four phases — Planning, Production, Panic, and Performance.
Planning is easily the longest phase. (By a curious coincidence it is also the one which requires the least amount of effort…hmmm…perhaps we should do a Science Fair Project on that.) Planning involves finding an idea which is a) unusual enough that nobody else in the fair is likely to do it, b) interesting enough to catch the eye of the judges, and c) simple enough that we can complete it without a multi-million dollar research grant and the facilities of a major university laboratory. It’s also good if the project avoids ripping holes in the space-time continuum or giving life to dangerous new life forms or creating world-shattering new weapons systems. Of course, if a world-shattering weapon system looked possible AND would catch the judges’ eye we’d probably do it anyway.
During the planning phase (which lasts roughly fourteen months out of the year) we read newspaper, magazine, and website articles looking for good ideas. The best articles are those which report on other Science Fairs. These are a virtual treasure trove of great ideas. No, I’m kidding. We never steal ideas from other fairs. The judges have already seen those!
Once the list of ideas has been narrowed down to one or two, we take a realistic look at the amount of work (and cost) involved in completing the project. If the work is less than might go into the construction of a suspension bridge across the Pacific and the cost is somewhere south of the National Debt, we declare the project “do-able”.
This brings us to the Production phase. Production is that delightful period of time in which our sons take the idea and run with it…usually they run right into a wall. Somehow the idea which seemed to simple and elegant turns nasty and ugly when it’s released into the real world. For example, one year our eldest son wanted to perform a simple test to determine if the bread always lands butter-side down. Simple, right? Butter some bread, drop it and viola! instant science.
Uh-huh.
Have you ever gotten bread to jump out of your hand at exactly the same height exactly the same way every time? Ha! Good luck with that! Eventually our young scientist built a rubber-band-and-Lego bread launcher. Then we launched bread…hundreds of times…some of it buttered, some of it marked with a marker. After the first few tests with the butter, we modified the experiment by putting a plastic table-cloth in the landing zone. Each test required a fresh slice of bread. I went to the store for bread so often the clerks started to look at me like I was trafficking in illicit baked goods.
But the project met our three criteria and did well at the St. Olaf’s Science Fair. More importantly — even with all of the bread — it was a relatively cheap project.
Of course, as the lads get older, the projects get more expensive. This year CAC and I had to provide a generous research grant to pay for the materials required to build EBC’s bomb-sniffing robot. If the cost had been any higher, I’d have told EBC to skip the project and just let me sniff the bombs myself. It would certainly have been cheaper and probably less financially damaging — even with the cost of post-explosion medical care.
Production passes as a pleasant dream, though, compared to the all important third phase — Panic.
Panic generally sets in about a week before the Science Fair. The date for the fair, which had looked so tiny on the calendar, suddenly grows out of control and looms over the family…the AMAZING FIFTY FOOT DATE! IT’S TIME TO FINISH THE RESEARCH, WRITE THE PAPER, AND MAKE THE EXHIBIT BOARD! NO TIME TO WASTE! SLEEP IS OPTIONAL! DO YOU THINK EINSTEIN SLEPT WHILE HE WAS GETTING READY FOR HIS TENTH-GRADE SCIENCE FAIR? DID SIR ISAAC NEWTON WHINE ABOUT NEEDING TIME TO DO HIS CALCULUS HOMEWORK? I DON’T THINK SO MISTER!
This is also known as the “Arts and Crafts” phase because so much emphasis is placed on the exhibit. The lads finish their written reports and then the whole family kicks into high gear preparing the exhibits. CAC and I contribute by purchasing display boards (more $$$) and specialty papers (even more $$$$) and glue that won’t stain the board or ruin the paper (still more $$$$). Then we hover like demented hummingbirds, shouting helpful instructions to the boys as they lay out the actual display boards. All the while the clock is ticking the the day of the fair is approaching at warp speed.
Before the calendar has time to catch its breath, it’s time for the actual fair — Performance. From this moment forward, the lads are on their own and all that’s left is the judging and the awards.
Oddly, for CAC and I, this is the hardest part. Oh sure, the other phases involve us more, but waiting for the awards is like having a slow-motion heart attack. The awards start with the category winners. They call the category — “Engineering” for example — and we know that one of the boys is about to be validated of devastated. Oh goody.
Third place goes to … some other kid. That’s okay, our son’s project was better than that. At least we hope it was. What if it wasn’t better?
Second place goes to … some different other kid. Keep it cool…there’s still first place. Only, what if there isn’t? What if he doesn’t place? No matter how many times we’ve been through this, CAC and I still feel the ice in the gut that comes just before they announce the winners.
The announcement comes too slowly and the moment passes too quickly, whatever the outcome. Winners or not, the boys emerge from the fair unscathed. Just in time to start the Planning phase for next year’s fair.
