What is a scientist?

I've just finished reading when famous scientists became scientists.....here's my story, not as profound, but, hey, it's when it all happened for me:

  

OK, so…….what is a scientist?

The popular view held by most children is that the world of science is owned by wide-eyed, white-coated ‘boffins’ who spend their time poking in test tubes and looking into microscopes.

I opened my dictionary, looked up the word scientist, and read the following:

‘A scientist: a person having expert knowledge of one or more sciences, especially a natural or physical science.’ 

Mmmmm………not terribly helpful, I thought. That’s not how I would describe what a scientist is to a young child. So, let me make a stab at it. 

I know, for a start that:

·      Scientists are very curious about what they see around them.

·      Scientists are collectors – they collect things and they collect ideas.

·      Scientists read books to find out more about what they collected.

·      Scientists carry out experiments.

·      Scientists write notes and draw pictures to explain what’s in their heads.

·      Scientists talk with other scientists and learn from each other.

.

I do ALL these things, don’t I? SO, I’m a SCIENTIST! Hey, hey!

We’re ALL scientists……… aren’t we? Don’t we explore our environment in a scientific way, whether we are aware of it or not? Don’t we look, touch, hear, smell, taste and wonder why all the time? Isn’t that how we discover new things?  When we discover something new, we often experience feelings of pleasure. Which of us hasn’t seen an expression of magical delight when a young child makes a discovery? You know, the ‘Oooh…... Aaah ‘ effect?

One thing, though. That magical ‘Oooh..Aaah’ moment needs fanning as if it were the beginnings of a fire, though, doesn’t it? 

In my experience as an educator, I appreciated quickly that, even though being curious is natural for all human beings, most young scientists need help understanding how to make sense of the science around them. Teachers know that, but, don’t just leave it to your children’s teachers. Who better to help them than mum and dad? Any teacher will tell you that your involvement in your children’s education as a close family member (mother, father, grandparent, carer, home-schooler) is strongly related to their success in school. And that common sense view is backed by educational research:  “What families do is more important to student success than whether they are rich or poor, whether parents have finished high school or not, or whether children are in elementary, junior high, or high school (Robinson, 1995).

I remember how and when I become a scientist, someone who throughout his life has enjoyed exploring and asking and finding answers to the endless questions about the world of nature. It was my parents and one teacher fanned my science fire and got me going.

Born in in the south west part of England, I lived near the sea when I was young. When the weather was nice, Mum and Dad took me to the nearby stony beach of Mount’s Bay. Sometimes we caught the bus and went a mile or two to the abandoned tin mines perched on the cliffs that overlook the Atlantic Ocean.

I remember one day in particular. 

In fact, I can remember it as if it were yesterday. It was my fifth birthday. I was really surprised when my mum and dad met me at the end of the school day. Holding my hand, we walked to the beach for a birthday treat, especially to search for heart-shaped or dark grey pebbles with a vein of white quartz running through the middle. These pebbles were very, very special. Mum and Dad called them wishing rocks.

I soon spotted a beautiful black and white wishing rock. I picked it up and rested comfortably in the palm of my hand. I slowly wrapped my fingers around it and squeezed really tight.  When my fingers warmed the pebble, I closed my eyes and sent a really special loving wish to my mum and dad.

“Hey,” said my dad, when I opened my eyes, “did you just send me a wish? I felt it, you know, like a warm tickle right down my back. Did you feel that, Hazel?” “I did, I did,” said my mum.

Wow! I thought. It really works! Wishing rocks are brill! And, knowing that, really lit a fire in my head.

Smiling, I put my wishing rock into what Mum called my treasure tin, a small red OXO tin. Then, I spotted something different. There, lying with all the black, grey and white smooth pebbles, was a bright yellow object. It didn’t look like any of the other sea-worn rocks. It stared up at me, wanting, I felt, badly to be picked up, wanting to be touched and admired. I bent over, picked it up and held it in the palm of my hand. I ran over to Mum and Dad. Even though I thought they knew everything, I was really surprised they didn’t know what I had found. “Take it to school tomorrow and show your teacher,” said Mum. “Miss Harvey will know. She knows everything.” Not wanting to scratch it, I wrapped it up in my white hanky and put it in my pocket next to my treasure tin.

As I dressed for school the next morning, I put my treasure tin in my pocket to take to school to show my teacher, Miss Harvey.

Even before all the boys sat in their seats, I was standing by Miss Harvey’s tall wooden desk, the OXO treasure tin in my hand, spluttering, “Miss Harvey, Miss Harvey, see what I found. I found it on the beach, after school, yesterday. Went there with my mum and dad. You know, when the tide was out, when you can see what the waves brought in.”

As Miss Harvey looked inside my treasure tin, her eyes widened. It wasn’t, apparently, a rock at all. It was ancient fossilized tree resin, and, she said, it was called amber. Miss Harvey knew amber was millions of years old and began its life inside a tree.

Resin? Fossilized? Amber? Ancient? What beautiful words, I thought.

Miss Harvey held my golden amber in her hand, smiled, looked down at me through her wire glasses that balanced on the end of her sharp nose, and said loudly, so everyone in class could hear, “THIS is amber…..it’s fossil tree sap………it’s been washed ashore after a long, long trip in the sea. Johnny Paull found it.” Miss Harvey handed the amber back to me and then wrote the word A M B E R on the board. “Show it to everyone, pass it around.” Miss Harvey said. “Share it – that’s what scientists do. And, Johnny Paull, you’re a real scientist!”

What’s a scientist, I wondered? Is that something dead good? I turned a little red as I faced everyone in the room. As I held out my hand and showed the class, everyone stopped chattering. They were curious and wanted to see what I had found. I handed it to Johnny Hoskins. Almost immediately, Edgar James hissed, “Pass it ‘ere, boyo. Quick. Lemme see!” “Quiet, everyone, quiet!” Miss Harvey said, turning to me,  “Johnny Paull, why don’t you draw a picture of your amber? Here, here’s some white paper. Use this. Don’t just draw the amber, draw the other beach pebbles, too. Just as you remember. Can you see them in your head?”

Closing my eyes, I remembered just how the amber looked when I saw it lying on the beach with all the other pebbles. I couldn’t wait to grab some yellow, black and brown crayons from the big biscuit tin lying on her desk.

When I’d finished my drawing and showed it to Miss Harvey, I could tell from her eyes that she liked it. Quickly, she glued the picture onto some black paper, then taped it to the wall close to my desk, and told me to write my name and the date underneath.

As I was drawing another picture of one of my wishing rocks, Miss Harvey came next to me and, with a broad smile, said, very emphatically so that everyone could hear, ”Keep it, Johnny Paull. The amber. Keep it safe. And that wishing rock. They’re wonderful. You’re so lucky. Keep them. Keep them in your oxo tin - your treasure tin, sorry - and save them. Save them forever.”

My head glowed. It was on fire. I was a scientist – whatever that meant!

That was it. I was hooked.

I’ve been a scientist - and a treasure tin collector - ever since, thanks to my mum and dad and my teacher.