The scientific process is useful in any situation,
Perhaps even to turn an orphan back into a prince?
Tony, Age 6
Tuesday
Tony's POV
'United in Public.' The unofficial family motto. It meant we may argue or disagree with each other at home, but in public we are united in our views. Even without anyone here to unite with, I knew it was time to put on the public face. To unite under the Stark name.
Besides, it hurt too much to keep focusing on them not wanting me with them.
But that didn't stop me from imparting a plan to get back to them. Step one was to infiltrate the enemy's camp and observe. Step two would be to make a hypothesis, then conduct an experiment, draw conclusions, and repeat until I got the results I wanted, i.e., to go home. And I think that should count as uniting in public under the Stark name, because above all else, Starks are businessman and scientist. The scientific process could, and should, be applied to every problem.
Observations Week 1 and 2
Evidence continues to support my claim that this place is like the army. Tons of rules and procedures. They want you to absorb what they tell you and do as you're told. They don't want you to ask challenging questions, think for yourself, or use what you've learned to create your own things. Just like the army. Only the army makes you exercise if you don't toe the line, whereas the school prevents you from exercising when you ignore the leaders (i.e. you lose recess time).
I don't know how to talk with children, it's almost like they speak a foreign language; learning French was easier than trying to engage any of them in complex sentences and they seem to lack in basic vocabulary.
Case in point:
"What do you think the uses are of non-Newtonian fluids on a playground?"
"Huh?" was the unintelligible reply by Ryan.
Perhaps he just needed time to think of a response, so I decided to kick the ball rolling. "For instance, a layer of it under the monkey bars could prevent injury."
"What in the world are you talking about?"
"Fluids that turn solid when pressure is applied. I wonder how the game of baseball would change if they lined the baseball diamond with it." Then my thoughts kind of turned inward, but my mouth kept running. "Perhaps athletes could use it to learn to run faster because they'd have to run fast enough not to sink. Oh! And maybe it could be used in a combat situation, like you fill a pit with it then cover it with brush. Then whammy! They've sunk in like it's quicksand!"
I refocused on the world around me and found that Ryan had inched as far as he could from me and was giving me a wary look. The kid on the other side of the lunch table said, "Sounds like a Bugs Bunny cartoon."
I jumped on the response, "Art often inspires technology. Leonardo da Vinci's Ornithopter inspired people like the Wright brothers. Jules Verne wrote stories about helicopters and submarines and rockets to the moon back in the 1800's. Dad says that someday S.I. is going to be able to make communicators like the one's they've get on Star Trek. Though I guess that kind of already exist because walkie talkies let you communicate really far, but they're clunky and your voice goes out to anyone that can tune into that frequency, so being able to pick who you can get on the other end would be a lot better than just hoping you get the right person."
"Uh. You talk a lot."
"Well, you could join in. Do your part in the chatter. Did you come up with any non-Newtonian playground uses?"
Ryan and the other boy still looked perplexed. That's a fancy word for puzzled. The last time we went to Europe the only book on the plane was a thesaurus. Nanny Doreen said that the tote with things to do was my responsibility and that it was my fault for leaving it in the car. Dad was reading stuff that would make your eyes cross. Business contract stuff. That meant I couldn't bug him. Mom had bought me a thesaurus and a dictionary, but only the thesaurus was on the plane.
My chest started hurting, thinking about them. I squeezed the pain a way with a swallow. "Or perhaps a Willie Coyote inspired tech?"
"Dude, he loses to a bird. His tech sucks."
Then they both angled away from me and started talking to others about gross canned peas and the lime jello, apparently incapable of conversing on anything beyond what was directly in front of them.
I'm used to conversing with adults, but the adults here act like they are vocal books; they won't converse with me. I miss Dad.
I've been put in the 1st grade because I'm six. I'm told that next week they'll start testing me to see where I actually belong, that they just don't have the time to deal with such things this week.
The students in the class are infants. Despite most of them being taller than me, their brains are that of a one-year-old. I swear they'd actually learn things by viewing Sesame Street!
The science lesson was a complete joke. The teacher called us to the rug for science class. She then began to sing.
"The rain from the clouds falls
Down, down, down.
Down, down, down.
Down, down, down.
The rain from the clouds falls
Down, down, down.
And seeps into the ground."
I sat flabbergasted as the song continued.
"The roots in the soil suck the water up,
Suck the water up.
Suck the water up.
The roots in the soil suck the water up,
And it travels up the stem.
The teacher had hand motions to go with everything too and kept pointing to the plant parts on a picture, as though we were supposed to have no clue what stems and roots were if she hadn't been pointing to them.
The noses on the leaves breathe in the air,
Breathe in the air,
Breathe in the air,
Breathe in the air,
The noses on the leaves breathe in the air,
Breathe in the air,
And into the leaves it flows.
Plant noses? Did she mean stomata?
The rays from the Sun wave on down,
Wave on down,
Wave on down,
The rays from the Sun wave on down,
And heat up the leaves."
The "photosynthesis" verse was:
"The water and the air are cooked together,
Cooked together,
Cooked together,
The water and the air are cooked together,
And together they make sugar."
The teacher then insisted they all sing it together.
I crossed my arms and glared. I'd been looking forward to science class, but this was completely absurd. The teacher hadn't even used any science words like photosynthesis, carbon dioxide, or carbohydrates. And she'd called glucose sugar. I'd wanted to learn what the letters and numbers meant in that thing that looked kind of like a math problem in the book on plants I have at home.
The infants go home at 3:00, leaving me with all the tall kids. We're allowed to get out of the stupid uniforms at 3:00 and wear our normal clothes. I may try wearing my normal clothes to class next week and see what happens. What can they do? Take more recess away. They'd have to create an extra recess period to be able to take more away. Apparently, I have a bad attitude about school. Excuse me for thinking that school was a place you were supposed to go to learn things! Personally, I haven't learned squat.
My room lacks any personality or class. Beige walls. Beige floor. Beige ceiling. I'm shocked the curtains aren't beige. They're blue. Solid blue. (At least the blue matches with the Captain America bedspread.) Again, very army like. Standardize everything. Individualization leads to chaos, so squash it.
I need things to do. Things to build with. There's nothing here except one set of wooden blocks, that are easily knocked down by the annoying older boys.
I know Jarvis said I could contact him to send me stuff, but he forgot to leave a computer, or even a typewriter. And I'm not calling. I really, really want to hear Mom's voice, but then I'd probably start crying, and that's okay to do on my own in my room, but totally not okay where others could watch and hear. The other kids mostly ignore me, but Ryan tries to trip me sometimes and his friend, Greg calls me names, quiet enough for the teachers not to hear.
I attempted to procure some supplies from the art teacher. It turns out you can lose things other than recess here. Specifically, the right to sit with other human beings at lunch. Not that conversations with the infants was all that fascinating, but better than sitting in a beige room by yourself poking at mystery meat covered in gravy.
Did I mention I want to go home? I really need to finish the observation phase and move onto creating and testing a hypothesis.
Author's Note: If any teachers want to use the "photosynthesis" song, or modify it for use in your classroom, go for it! I imagine it being sung to the tune of the Wheels on the Bus.