[ad_1]
An afternoon of physics and cotton candy.
Written by Kendra Redmond | April 12, 2024
At the March meeting, children (and adults) of all ages enjoyed Squishy Science Sundaes, including the author’s children (center).
Shouts of “Eh!” and “Slimy!” That’s not the reaction most APS conference presenters hope to receive, but the Squishy Science Sunday volunteers accepted the feedback with smiles. Throughout the four-hour public support event, children of all ages poked, prodded, squished and mixed, played and created while exploring the softer side of physics.
What is the most common comment you hear? “That’s amazing!”
Held in Minneapolis on the first day of the APS March Conference, the event drew families from the local community to the conference venue. Shubha Tewari, a faculty member at the University of Massachusetts Amherst and lead organizer of the event, said the goal was to spotlight large physics conferences held in their cities and get people interested in science. He says his goal was to have people come into contact with him.
And people did come – there were hundreds of them. Twin Cities families, his APS members with and without children, and even gymnasts participating in nearby competitions learned about biophysics, polymers, soft matter, and other topics through hands-on activities at nearly 50 tables. I explored statistical physics. Attendees also enjoyed visual exhibits and Wright-His talks on topics such as superhero physics and exploding hydrogels.
Many of the most active participants had not yet taken a physics class, and some had yet to see a kindergarten classroom, but that did not dampen their enthusiasm. “This is right up his alley,” Minneapolis parent Josh Przybylski said as he watched his 4-year-old son try to pull a stick out of a jar of sand. Rachel Turner sat her youngest son in a stroller while the other children played with bubble wands. Even if the kids don’t understand everything, “my goal is just to get them excited about science,” she said.
Ariel Ayanwo and her five children stumbled into this event by sheer luck. During their walk, they stopped at the convention center to see if there was anything fun to do and ended up spending the afternoon there. Her oldest son couldn’t decide which activity he enjoyed the most. “There’s a lot of good science!” — but a clear favorite emerged from the younger staff. Augsburg University’s live demonstration of the transformation of crystalline sugar into an amorphous solid – fluffy, melt-in-your-mouth cotton candy.
While his child was elbow-deep in the experiment, Alan Barnicle, another parent, commented on the uniqueness of the event. “I like that [the people leading the activities] “These are actually physicists in labs and universities all over the world. There’s value there,” he said.
Aberi, 10, visited an interactive booth.
To get the most out of the opinions of the scientists coming to their city, attendees were encouraged to visit the “Ask a Physicist” table. A student stopped by and asked Professor Alex Klotz of California State University, Long Beach, “What is a physicist?” Klotz simply answered, “You can ask his parents why, right? Physicists will get to the bottom of it.” The students’ eyes lit up, he said.
Many volunteers said this lightbulb moment was the most rewarding part of the experience. Volunteer Bharath Venkatesh, a postdoctoral fellow at the University of California, Santa Barbara, loved watching participants express their curiosity and ingenuity as they played with the magical sand. “Kids are coming up with experiments,” he said.
Six APS units brought Squishy Science to life with support from APS and several sponsors. More than 100 of his APS members have volunteered their time to begin the conference experience, and Tewari hopes this event will become a tradition at his March conference.
“It’s very important for us as a community of scientists to engage with the public,” Tewari said. “Not only do we let the public know what we do, but we also show that we care about world issues and that what we do has a direct impact on the lives of ordinary people. It’s also about letting people know that they can make an impact.”
As the event drew to a close, Sarah Degner Riveros told her 9-year-old child that he had to go home immediately. He races from table to table for four hours, returns to his favorite station again and again, makes “sushi” with rice crispy treats topped with homemade boba, and even tries to teach other kids the activity. I made an offer. “Today was really fun,” he said.
His mother agreed. “I think he may have found what he wants to do.”
Kendra Redmond is a writer based in Minnesota.
[ad_2]
Source link
