Thursday, April 15, 2010
Getting a little space, part 3
We originally had no plan to visit Kennedy Space Center this year. Much as we love space, it was expense and travel that we were willing to put off. The launch viewings changed our plans, and we ended up glad that we'd found a reason to make the trip (or four) out to KSC. So here's a little more about Kennedy Space Center as a destination.
My shuttle launch ticket functioned as a regular admission ticket for 2 days within a 7-day period, but technically I burned both days on the launch. We all needed KSC admission tickets for the SDO launch, which, unlike a shuttle launch, required a regular admission ticket (some rocket launches are open to the public, and are included with admission). I bought annual passes for all five of us, as we plan to be in the area later in the year. An annual pass costs less than twice buying 2-day passes, and there is plenty there to occupy us long enough each day to make it worth it.
Admission includes all attractions at the main visitor center, including the two IMAX films, the Shuttle Launch Experience ride, and indoor and outdoor exhibits. Also included are bus tours of the center, where the guides identify various facilities and their place in the history of space exploration. Fancier tours are available for additional cost.
The buses stop at the Apollo/Saturn V Center, a museum all about the Saturn V rocket and the Apollo program. The introductory movie and simulated launch presentation in the mission control center are pretty neat. There's also a Saturn V rocket, fixed up, staged out, and completely explained, as well as exhibits on Apollo program training and technology. The second bus stop is the International Space Station Center, where you can walk through models of Space Station segments, and look down into the actual cleanroom where new nodes are prepared for flight and operation. (Or will be for a short time longer, I guess.)
Also included in a KSC admission ticket is admission to the Astronaut Hall of Fame, which I expected would be rather boring and "memorial", but which was actually quite interactive and educational. The boys enjoyed the "g-force trainer" centrifuge, and all three of us landed the shuttle with the flight simulator game. We climbed into a model of a Mercury capsule and flipped switches, and we tried on space suit helmets and did motion experiments. We could have spent an entire museum day (3-4 hours) in the Astronaut Hall of Fame, which is a few miles from the KSC visitor complex.
Very soon I'll post a list of all the Florida State Parks we stayed in this season, and a little something about the empire of the mouse.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Child Development and the School Factor
A recent email conversation with a friend who works in child psychology clarified some thoughts I have about following a rational approach to my children's education. Here's what I wrote. I added a link to the article we were discussing.
"For obvious reasons I'm interested in education, development, and what the evidence really tells us. My frustration has been that, as highlighted in [this post on the Freedom to Learn Blog at Psychology Today], most research about childhood learning assumes traditional school structure as a given instead of deriving it as a preference.
For rational homeschoolers, research about child development would make a lot more sense if it treated the institution as a variable instead of a given. Well, not just for homeschoolers, but for anyone interested in fundamental change in our approach to education, which might be considered if the research net were cast further. What I find instead are polarized views - the school-based view (of what is observed in/works best in schools) and the anti-school view (which is light on evidence and heavy on "common sense" rhetoric and emotional appeal)."
So that's where my head is lately. I'm seeking validation of (or real evidence to challenge) our unschooling methodology, and I'm not totally satisfied with the resources available.
"For obvious reasons I'm interested in education, development, and what the evidence really tells us. My frustration has been that, as highlighted in [this post on the Freedom to Learn Blog at Psychology Today], most research about childhood learning assumes traditional school structure as a given instead of deriving it as a preference.
For rational homeschoolers, research about child development would make a lot more sense if it treated the institution as a variable instead of a given. Well, not just for homeschoolers, but for anyone interested in fundamental change in our approach to education, which might be considered if the research net were cast further. What I find instead are polarized views - the school-based view (of what is observed in/works best in schools) and the anti-school view (which is light on evidence and heavy on "common sense" rhetoric and emotional appeal)."
So that's where my head is lately. I'm seeking validation of (or real evidence to challenge) our unschooling methodology, and I'm not totally satisfied with the resources available.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Getting a little space, part 2
As luck would have it, there was an Atlas V rocket launch scheduled just two days after the STS-130 launch, at a more reasonable hour of the day. The rocket was carrying NASA's Solar Dynamics Observatory (SDO) into orbit. SDO is designed to give us a better-than-ever view of the star that is the engine of life on earth (the only life we've yet encountered in the universe). See? The romance of it! I was sure the SDO launch couldn't match the wow factor of Endeavour's night launch, but I knew I would love it, and I hoped the kids wouldn't yawn at it.
All five of us went to Kennedy for the scheduled launch, which was scrubbed with less than 4 minutes to go because of winds >20mph. The next day I brought just the two older boys out for the second try, and we had our rocket launch. As expected, there was the drama of the countdown, and the glory of a giant fancy pencil with a flare for an eraser, driving itself into the sky. By chance, there was a layer of clouds that produced a nice sun dog effect in the path of the rocket. And best of all, we witnessed a stunning atmospheric effect that looked like ripples on a pond as the rocket went supersonic on its way up, up, and away. The sundog blew away in the wake of the rocket. It was just so neat. Videos of the launch tend to impress even veteran rocket watchers. Explanations of the effect are also neat to read.
Just two hours later, as the boys and I toured the Space Center, we were amazed to read (@NASA) that SDO was orbiting on her own. Our newest satellite, silently (as things are done in space) unfolded her mechanical leaves to collect solar power, and prepared to stare at the sun for years, to send back to the inhabitants of this little blue planet all sorts of data that we can't detect with any of our ground-based eyes. And we had just watched her launch! Don't you ever just say "Wow!"?
All five of us went to Kennedy for the scheduled launch, which was scrubbed with less than 4 minutes to go because of winds >20mph. The next day I brought just the two older boys out for the second try, and we had our rocket launch. As expected, there was the drama of the countdown, and the glory of a giant fancy pencil with a flare for an eraser, driving itself into the sky. By chance, there was a layer of clouds that produced a nice sun dog effect in the path of the rocket. And best of all, we witnessed a stunning atmospheric effect that looked like ripples on a pond as the rocket went supersonic on its way up, up, and away. The sundog blew away in the wake of the rocket. It was just so neat. Videos of the launch tend to impress even veteran rocket watchers. Explanations of the effect are also neat to read.
Just two hours later, as the boys and I toured the Space Center, we were amazed to read (@NASA) that SDO was orbiting on her own. Our newest satellite, silently (as things are done in space) unfolded her mechanical leaves to collect solar power, and prepared to stare at the sun for years, to send back to the inhabitants of this little blue planet all sorts of data that we can't detect with any of our ground-based eyes. And we had just watched her launch! Don't you ever just say "Wow!"?
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Getting a little space, part 1
Growing up in a NASA household, and in my generation, I have a certain romantic relationship with space and with the space shuttle. My dad worked at NASA for 27 years, and the whole family reflected the NASA spirit. We celebrated Moon Day (July 20). We played with Enterprise space shuttle models when the shuttle program was just beginning. We wore NASA t-shirts!
As a family, we watched Columbia's first launch and landing on live TV in 1981. We tuned in for many launches and landings in the months and years that followed, occasionally missing an hour or two of school for the events. I was watching on TV in the library of my middle school when Challenger exploded on ascent, and we suddenly appreciated the risk and heroism inherent in advancing the frontiers of our knowledge. Years later, on a whim of my latent space love, I tuned in at the last minute to watch a shuttle landing -- just in time to share the nation's confusion and distress as Columbia didn't appear when and where she was expected, and reports poured in of smoke trails and debris fields. It was like losing a distant family member I'd admired from afar my whole life.
Joe worked at NASA Kennedy Space Center as a college intern, and was later hired at NASA Goddard Space Flight Center, which is how he came to Maryland. He worked on Hubble (source of so many images that fuel my sense of wonder at our brilliant universe), and we eventually met through one of his co-workers whom I'd known for years through one of my brothers. His circle of friends in those early years were mainly NASA folk, and I grooved on their smart and science-y goodness. Yeah, NASA has figured in my life. I'm a space child.
Despite all that NASA love, I had never seen a shuttle launch. Joe saw two as an intern, and another when Hubble (out of favor at the time because of its mirror flaw) was being serviced. When I heard in January that we could be near enough to see the launch of Endeavour on STS-130, one of the last scheduled launches, I arranged to get as close as possible. My dad came down for the launch as well, having never seen a launch in all his NASA years. I knew it would be a grueling all-nighter, with the payoff of a beautiful lightshow not at all guaranteed, so I chose not to put any of the kids through it.
The lines to get into Kennedy Space Center Visitor Complex were unbelievable, and there was little time for anything but waiting in lines, waiting on a bus, and then waiting on the causeway in the cold wind off the water. Because I'd come alone on a tour bus from Orlando, I wasn't with Dad or my other friend who was at the launch. But I was so excited, I didn't much mind anything that night. After the scheduled 45-minute hold at T-9 minutes the countdown was unable to continue because of clouds, and the launch was scrubbed for 24 hours.
On the second night (oh, yes, I bought a ticket for the second night on the bus ride back to Orlando) the lines were much shorter, and the crowd much smaller. I hung out with Dad at the Visitor Center until my bus left for the causeway, and I wrapped myself in a blanket and chatted with my new bus mates during the 2-hour wait in the chilly air. And for all that trouble I was I treated to a spectacle I can't begin to describe in words, and that I will probably never see again. The brightness was starlike (as in the Sun, not the faraway ones), and the impact of that brilliance on my psyche was something like seeing the vastness of the Grand Canyon the first time.
When my dad called me after the launch, I told him I was so happy he'd seen it, too. And then I cried, because, well … he knows why, and maybe some of you do, too. Because I'm a space child.
I followed the news of the mission on NASA's website and on Twitter (@NASA), feeling like I'd sent a kid off to school that morning. Japanese Astronaut Soichi Noguchi (@Astro_Soichi) has been tweeting beautiful pictures of earth taken through the windows of the cupola that Endeavour delivered to the International Space Station. Geography, geology, and space buffs alike will enjoy Soichi's photos. He also caught Endeavour re-entering the atmosphere at the end of the STS-130 mission.
I wasn't near enough to KSC to see or hear any aspect of the landing. I followed the play-by-play on Twitter (@BAnews). Dad called when Endeavour made its de-orbit burn. He knew -- he'd sent that kid to school, too. And then I found myself sprinting out to the beach so I could look out across the Gulf and imagine her gliding home. Alone on the beach, my thoughts on our returning explorers, I felt an ancient and modern connectedness to the rest of humanity. We are all space children, after all.
As a family, we watched Columbia's first launch and landing on live TV in 1981. We tuned in for many launches and landings in the months and years that followed, occasionally missing an hour or two of school for the events. I was watching on TV in the library of my middle school when Challenger exploded on ascent, and we suddenly appreciated the risk and heroism inherent in advancing the frontiers of our knowledge. Years later, on a whim of my latent space love, I tuned in at the last minute to watch a shuttle landing -- just in time to share the nation's confusion and distress as Columbia didn't appear when and where she was expected, and reports poured in of smoke trails and debris fields. It was like losing a distant family member I'd admired from afar my whole life.
Joe worked at NASA Kennedy Space Center as a college intern, and was later hired at NASA Goddard Space Flight Center, which is how he came to Maryland. He worked on Hubble (source of so many images that fuel my sense of wonder at our brilliant universe), and we eventually met through one of his co-workers whom I'd known for years through one of my brothers. His circle of friends in those early years were mainly NASA folk, and I grooved on their smart and science-y goodness. Yeah, NASA has figured in my life. I'm a space child.
Despite all that NASA love, I had never seen a shuttle launch. Joe saw two as an intern, and another when Hubble (out of favor at the time because of its mirror flaw) was being serviced. When I heard in January that we could be near enough to see the launch of Endeavour on STS-130, one of the last scheduled launches, I arranged to get as close as possible. My dad came down for the launch as well, having never seen a launch in all his NASA years. I knew it would be a grueling all-nighter, with the payoff of a beautiful lightshow not at all guaranteed, so I chose not to put any of the kids through it.
The lines to get into Kennedy Space Center Visitor Complex were unbelievable, and there was little time for anything but waiting in lines, waiting on a bus, and then waiting on the causeway in the cold wind off the water. Because I'd come alone on a tour bus from Orlando, I wasn't with Dad or my other friend who was at the launch. But I was so excited, I didn't much mind anything that night. After the scheduled 45-minute hold at T-9 minutes the countdown was unable to continue because of clouds, and the launch was scrubbed for 24 hours.
On the second night (oh, yes, I bought a ticket for the second night on the bus ride back to Orlando) the lines were much shorter, and the crowd much smaller. I hung out with Dad at the Visitor Center until my bus left for the causeway, and I wrapped myself in a blanket and chatted with my new bus mates during the 2-hour wait in the chilly air. And for all that trouble I was I treated to a spectacle I can't begin to describe in words, and that I will probably never see again. The brightness was starlike (as in the Sun, not the faraway ones), and the impact of that brilliance on my psyche was something like seeing the vastness of the Grand Canyon the first time.
When my dad called me after the launch, I told him I was so happy he'd seen it, too. And then I cried, because, well … he knows why, and maybe some of you do, too. Because I'm a space child.
I followed the news of the mission on NASA's website and on Twitter (@NASA), feeling like I'd sent a kid off to school that morning. Japanese Astronaut Soichi Noguchi (@Astro_Soichi) has been tweeting beautiful pictures of earth taken through the windows of the cupola that Endeavour delivered to the International Space Station. Geography, geology, and space buffs alike will enjoy Soichi's photos. He also caught Endeavour re-entering the atmosphere at the end of the STS-130 mission.
I wasn't near enough to KSC to see or hear any aspect of the landing. I followed the play-by-play on Twitter (@BAnews). Dad called when Endeavour made its de-orbit burn. He knew -- he'd sent that kid to school, too. And then I found myself sprinting out to the beach so I could look out across the Gulf and imagine her gliding home. Alone on the beach, my thoughts on our returning explorers, I felt an ancient and modern connectedness to the rest of humanity. We are all space children, after all.
Friday, January 1, 2010
New Year
What will 2010 bring in your life?
We're looking forward to seeing new places and learning new things this year, as well as repeating some familiar traditions and seeing our favorite people. Geographically, our plan for the year is looking less like a grand circuit of the country, and more like the usual "scribble route" from place to place for seasonal events and visiting.
Wherever we are, we are resolved against rushing or feeling pressured to "get results". And that's why this blog might age a bit -- I'll be leaving it on the back burner for now, stirring occasionally. Visit every once in a while, when you're thinking about us.
Have a great new year!
We're looking forward to seeing new places and learning new things this year, as well as repeating some familiar traditions and seeing our favorite people. Geographically, our plan for the year is looking less like a grand circuit of the country, and more like the usual "scribble route" from place to place for seasonal events and visiting.
Wherever we are, we are resolved against rushing or feeling pressured to "get results". And that's why this blog might age a bit -- I'll be leaving it on the back burner for now, stirring occasionally. Visit every once in a while, when you're thinking about us.
Have a great new year!
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