Science Fair Non-Project

Science fairs. I don’t want to go there, but for the sake of my mental health, permit me to rant for a moment. First of all, I grew up in Washington and did not participate in a single science fair when I was growing up. Not one. Nada. Am I clear on this point? They were extra curricular, extra credit activities. I didn’t need extra credit and wasn’t interested enough in science to do anything in that subject outside of school. I was a bookworm, I read outside of school. And wrote. Bet you didn’t see that coming, did you?

Anyway, fast forward to high school, I read sci-fi, but I’m still not really into science per se. In fact, I took chemistry and physics just so I wouldn’t have to take biology because I couldn’t get an A in the class unless I did a bug collection and there was no way in hell I was doing a bug collection. That was my attitude toward science. Moving on to college, I graduated in biology. But I still didn’t do a bug collection! Okay, that’s not true, I helped The Girl with hers. Next year, I’ll help The Boy with his.

The kids went to a charter school and I have a standing invitation from the science teacher to help when the ninth graders do dissections. Yay! (This is a person who writes romance . . .) This year I’m one of the science fair judges. As of the time I’m writing this, not posting it, my son has still not completed his science fair project. It’s due tomorrow. Hmm. I’m not judging his grade/category – they’ll figure that out somehow. Just as well, I’d flunk the little brat because I know he’s going to fake his data.

So, I never did the science fair thing as a kid, but I did it with my kids from third through eighth grade, twice. Last week, my extended family was at the in-law’s house gathered for something festive and my young nephew was complaining about his science fair project. Like my son, it was due and he hadn’t done it yet.

“Really? What’s your project?” I asked with interest. This kid was only interested in football, so to see him doing anything academic had me intrigued.

“Which paper towel is the best.”

I frowned. “That’s not a science fair project, that’s product comparison.”

“I’m only in sixth grade.”

I let it drop. My kids weren’t permitted to do product comparison or a research project in third grade (school rules, not mine) but maybe that’s because they went to a charter school and had higher standards. I almost had a chat with my sister-in-law about her youngest being robbed of a valuable learning opportunity, but decided against it. She already doesn’t like me, didn’t go to college, cares more about the name brand of her hoodie than has mistrust of the motivation of the school in question, so I let it drop. Besides, I was tired and wanted to go home. The Boy had some data to fake.