Captain's Log: Why Did I Give Them Balloons So Soon?

This week in wacky science I was supposed to teach rocket science via balloon rockets.

It would be nice if my education had been veered towards the physics department. But my speciality is in biology and neuroscience. So as it was, I researched the physics, looked at what other teachers did for this particular lesson, and tried to make it more of a group activity where the students could give their intel on the matter.

I did the demo as perfectly as I could with my close friend, and things went about as well as they could have. They acted like a child - lots of questions, needing direction and instruction - and I felt like I could give a decent talk about the physics and forces acting upon the balloon to a roomful of hyperactive children. I even brought enough ingredients this time for the project - seeing as no corn starch was involved - knowing that a big mess wouldn't be imminent.

What I'm saying is I went in with enough cockiness that I made beginner teacher mistakes.

For the little kids, it was giving them the balloons first. My oh my, did they stop listening to a word I said after those balloons got close to their mouths. I was able to wrangle them by saying that it was a matter of respect and following instructions that they give their attention to me, but I had to deal with balloons blowing up, wrinkling down, and being generally played around with while the kids were giggling and losing their minds.

I got through enough of the physics, and the clock said it was time to get to them doing the work. I figured at that age - kindergarden to first grade - they could be trusted to be placed in groups and manage themselves to set up a trajectory line with string, tape, and a straw.

Nope. Not at all. The moment I took my eyes off a group of four kids, they stopped being productive and just starting talking to one another or looking around the room like a lost puppy.

It was almost like this with every group, except for the one group that seemed to consist of just the first-graders and my initial demonstration rig, which meant they could go right to the fun.

So I spent time going from group to group, helping them get ready, repeating instructions to keep hold of the string because the tape was so bad with very little stickiness, and trying to get the kids to the fun part of launching the balloons on these strings and simulate flight.

As for the notetaking and observation part, I instructed each group to assign one of their own as a notetaker. It didn't go well, really. They observed. They only wrote when I told them to. At this point, I think I could actually call it a success if the segment on the page labelled observations and conclusion had a sentence each.

The cleanup was as easy as I'd hoped, where it was just pieces of string, straws, balloons, and tape that had to be gathered and thrown in the trash. I managed time well enough that it was done just in time for the announcements to relay whose parent had arrived for pickup.

And second luckily for me, the cleanup was also easy for the 2nd-4th graders that I taught the next day. If I never have a lesson with corn starch again it will be a miracle. As I've stated before, it's even worse than glitter. At least glitter's pretty to a crow's brain.

But in teaching those older kids, I'd learned that there was a definite need for demonstration as well as a definite need to get the older kids to help the younger ones. Those who held the knowledge seemed to want to keep it to themselves, while I was left trying to teach whatever I could to those who knew very little. Next time I'm going to have to remind them of school values. Be respectful. Be helpful. Be kind.

Just help me make the lesson fun and successful, please.

It did turn out to be fun, cause the students were more helpful and competent about following instructions. We had balloon rocket races, the students learned about fuel and force and Newton's Third Law of Motion just as they needed to, and even I felt a smile growing on my face at the excitement.

I went a bit more with the flow of the class for this lesson, and it worked in my favor for the most part. But one thing gave me pause for thought.

As someone with some mental disorders in her belt, I can remember how teachers made me feel for my troubles. I was fidgety, asked for clarification or repeated questions a good bit, and though I generally tried to be a good student I had my falling moments. I want to be better than those teachers, who made me feel like it's all my fault and I should be ashamed of my problems.

As stated previously, I don't want to be the teacher that gives them trauma. So how do I do it while trying to minimize the chaos of the classroom? This is something I will be thinking about for next week, because there was are some students who fidget, talk a lot, don't seem to have self-awareness for physical space, and just seem neurodiverse.

But they're kids, and I'm no doctor. I can't diagnose a thing medically, and they are kids. They're learning how to be a person from scratch.

So I can only have my suspicions and my worries, and my general tendency to research how to get better - how to be better - so that I can teach them more efficiently. At the same time, I need to learn how to do this with the stuff I have and nothing more. Fun!