Tag: EvanE- Museums

Today was a neat day. We didn’t have many students, as the lab was only open to the public in the morning, but the students that did come into the lab were exceptionally interested, and seemed genuinely curious as to what we were doing. These are the best kinds of students, as they ask real, substantial questions, some of which I don’t even know the answers to, and they make me grow as I explain it to them. One such group, a family with three young children, were in the lab, exploring our maker-space and playing with the various experiments we have out, when the youngest child asked me in the middle of my 3D printer explanation “are you a scientist?” I was rather taken aback by the question; not because I was shocked to hear it, but simply because I had never seen myself in that light. I responded “kinda! And so are you!” She looked perplexed. “You’re in a labratory, right? And you’re doing experiments. Doesn’t that make you a scientist too?” Her eyes widened as she begun to understand what I meant. That moment really captured quite nicely the reason why this experience has been so fulfilling for me, and helps me understand the functions of places like the Natural Sciences Museum. Working in the lab, I have begun to understand that science is not meant to be intimidating. For so long in my life, I had seen science, especially that done by professionals, as inaccessible and frightening; a cold, hostile environment without interpersonal relation. Places like the museum, however, combat this scientific stigma. Our responsibility as people who interact with children is to introduce science as something real, tangible, and well within the grasp of everyone. Science, especially in the future, cannot be seen as elitist or unapproachable, as it’s stereotypes like those that promote a mistrust, misunderstanding, and misuse of science in politics, news, and everyday life. That’s why I’ve enjoyed my stay at the Museum so much; because I get to humanize science, and make sure that the kids I interact with know that science affects every single person on the planet, no matter their gender, age, or socioeconomic status. In other words, as the young girl that had so perplexed me with her “are you a scientist” inquiry; “Oh! So . . . everyone’s a scientist!”

Today I re-invented music. That is, I re-invented a method of producing music. I spent almost the whole day coding, entirely from scratch, a system wherein a piezo buzzer speaker would be able to play different tones based on different switches that were played. This was the most difficult arduino project I have completed to date, as there are really no guides or instructions online for hardwiring or coding. That means that today was spent subscribing to the trial-and-error school of education, plugging every possible wire into every possible port, until something worked. The hardest part about today was writing the code, as I’ve never written a full code from scratch before. Luckily, the arduino software has a built-in verification system, and would point me to any errors or typos that would hold me back. It took a while, and I definitely am not finished, but my final product is pretty darn neat; it’s a series of exposed wires, all set in a circle raised off of the table, and a sleeve made of tinfoil for your pointer finger that’s wired to a breadboard. You put your finger in the sleeve, and when you touch any of the exposed wires, the current is able to pass through your finger, and signals the arduino to play a tone. Each wire represents a different note, all of which I can program on the computer to be any possible note on the piano. This means I can set up any intervals and scales I want, and proceed to play each tone individually in a series. I think I may have inadvertently invented a brand new instrument, and if so, that’s pretty cool. 

Today I learned that I do not know what I am doing. I was coding along, happily formatting a digital model for hopeful future 3D printing, when I decided to check up on my morse code decoder. I plugged it in, booted it up, and was greeted by a whole heap of nothing. The LCD screen didn’t light the way it should, and the LED indicator light did not flash. I unplugged it, re-uploaded and re-verified the code, and plugged it back in. Still, nothing. I didn’t know what to do. I re-examined my circuitry – I had designed the schematic myself, so there was no helpful diagram or useful picture I could pull off the internet to help me out – I had to rely on memory and intuition. I plugged everything back into it’s respective sockets, and the screen lit up. Success, right? Wrong. The screen, despite being lit, did not display the text that I was inputting via the morse key. I was as perplexed as I was frustrated. I decided to just switch out the arduino board I was using with a spare, and I re-wired everything back into the spare. I booted up, sent the code, and everything worked great! I was overjoyed, but there was also a twinge of sadness. I truly, from the bottom of my heart, didn’t know why the first computer hadn’t worked, and why the second had. I thought that I had at least a basic understanding of what I was doing, and I still think I do. However, I’ve learned a valuable lesson; it’s ok to not know what you’re doing.

Monday is supposed to be the quietest day at the museum. That was not the case this Monday, as we had four or five tour groups filter through the lab, each with fifteen to twenty children in tow. That means that my projects were put on hold, as I had to join the volunteers in making sure the kids were entertained, learning, and most importantly, not breaking our stuff. This meant that I explained the process of 3D printing about fifteen times to various ages with various levels of understanding. This variety challenged me to explain concepts that were so complex that I didn’t fully understand them, to children who would be content if I simply said that the reason the infra-red camera could pick up their motion was “magic”. However, I didn’t succumb to the easy explanation temptation, and I used various analogies and physical demonstrations to explain protein synthesis, basic electronics, the infra-red light spectrum, and the fact that no, they couldn’t take home any of the 3D models. Overall, however, it was a fun day, due mostly to the funny, often surprising interactions between the children and I. However arduous it was explaining Quaternary protein structure and amino acid linkage synthesis ten times in ten different ways, I had a great time stretching my creativity to new heights – or, if we’re going by relative heights between me and the students – new lows!

Today was a day filled with team-building, bonding, growth, and pain. Today I finished my morse code decoder. After working on it for hours and hours every day, it finally worked, without glitch or error message, every time. I was hugely proud of myself, and I wanted to display it alongside all the other gadgets. To do so, however, I would have to set it up with an external power source so it could run on it’s own. A seemingly simple task that proved to be my biggest obstacle yet. I first tried a nine-volt battery, hooked up to the arduino, which was still attached via cable to my computer. Not only did this cause the arduino to crash, it caused the LCD screen to heat up to the point of burning me, and my computer, which was receiving data from the arduino, received a surge of energy, causing it to undergo a catastrophic system crash. Safe to say, I had failed. Sticking to the Cary Academy values of Discovery, Innovation, Collaboration, and Excellence, however, I knew that I couldn’t give up. I waited for my computer to re-boot, salvaged my files, and took another crack. I decided to set up a chain of smaller batteries, that way the voltage would be reduced and the capacity would be increased, based on the series vs sequence model of electrical circuitry. I set up three 2 volt batteries in a chain, and attached them to the arduino in the “power in” pins. However I failed to remember that I was still holding one of the exposed junctures, and when I plugged in the battery, the current found the quickest way between the two points was not through the circuit – it was through me. I fell back from the board with the urgency of one who had just been tasered, as, in a sense, I had been. The tips of my fingers on both hands were bright red, and I felt a strange tingling sensation all around my body. I decided to take the ultimate precautions disconnecting the arduino from the failed power source, and did so with my feet. For the rest of the day, I worked with kids on the 3D printed objects, and didn’t take another crack at the arduino. I’m sure that in the coming days, I will be able to solve the mystery of electricity, but for now, I needed a break from the wonders of technology. I learned an important lesson today- sometimes, you have to know when to stop.

Day 3 was a slow day, for a multitude of reasons. As I quickly learned, Thursdays are often the slowest days for the museum as a whole, so the number of kids that visited our lab decreased by a significant margin. In addition, the central air conditioning of the building crashed around 11:00, so the lab, which is a large, glass-walled room, acted in the same manner a greenhouse does, trapping heat – and us – inside. By the end of the day, the room was about 85 degrees, and that definitely didn’t encourage more foot traffic to visit our lab. As if the heat wasn’t enough, at around 3:00, my computer had a fatal error, and refused to turn on for the rest of the day. The lab has about 20 computers of it’s own, so it wouldn’t be a problem, except for the fact that all the code that I had written had been saved on my desktop, so it was inaccessible from the other computers. Despite all of the adverse conditions, I still had a fruitful and productive day, finishing my hardware for my Morse code decoder, complete with LCD screen and all, and assembling the circuitry for a new piezoelectronic keyboard, which would play tones at the touch of a finger. One fantastic story came when one of the lab’s volunteers, an older gentleman who helps with the kids, was looking at my project over my shoulder, and remarked “shouldn’t pin 4 connect the ground to the VCC of the LCD?” I was surprised – I had been stuck on an error for a while, and I hadn’t interacted with him previously. I said “maybe!”, and tried it out, re-uploaded the code, and it worked! It just goes to show you – take all the help you can get!

On my second day at the Museum, I ran into some difficulties. My Arduino project that I had been working on required an LCD screen; a part that the museum did not have. I decided to put that task on hold, in favor of a project that would be able to be completed even if I didn’t have all the parts. The lab I’m working in has a 3D printer, and I was offered the usage of it, provided that I could create my own original designs, formatted and properly uploaded to the printer. I took the challenge, and spent the majority of the day using a program called Sculptris to mold, shape, and paint a ball of digital clay, that then I could export and upload to the 3D printing and modeling software, where it could be sent to the printer. One specific great story from my second day cam in my interactions with some of the kids that visit the lab. One young boy, maybe around 3rd or 4th grade, looked over my shoulder on my computor as I was designing one particularly hideous alien head. He watched silently, so I decided to engage him, as I was at an artistic crossroads. “You like aliens?” I asked. “Yea” he replied. “What do you think of this one” I asked with baited breath. “Cool. Needs more eyes” he responded. I made the edits right then and there, and showed it to him again. “Good enough?” I eagerly questioned. “Ehh. Sure” He finally responded. After many hours, and many failed designs, I finally created something worth printing; a replica of the head of Zoidberg, a character from the popular show “Futurama.” I painted the head digitally, and all that’s left to do is upload it to the rendering software. I learned a lot about digital creation today, and I think that the skills that I got will be applicable to the future.

My first day at the North Carolina Museum of Natural Sciences started dramatically; as I was attempting to park in downtown Raleigh, a schoolbus ran into a police car, causing a large backup down the street. When I finally got parked, I ventured inside for my first full day of work in the Visual Investigations iLab of the Museum of Natural Sciences. Upon arriving at the lab – an impressive, glass-walled technological repository – I met with Mr. Poteate, my supervisor for the Work Experience Program. He put me to work immediately, giving me a checklist that I had to complete with different questions about different parts of the museum. I completed the 1-hour assignment with enthusiasm; as far as I’m concerned, running around a science museum and looking at the exhibits will never be work. When I got back, I completed some forms and learned my way around the equipment and various stations within the lab, experiencing it in a similar manner to those who it’s intended for. All this work pushed into lunch, so after my lunch break, I returned, and begun to work on my own project. In the lab, one of the centerpieces is the presence of a number of different robots, 3D printed knick-knacks, and other interesting technology-based attractions. As an intern, I would be involved in the maintenance of the existing products and responsible for the creation of new ones. Taking this task to heart, I began brushing off the dirt of my skills for Arduino programming, initially given to me by the Art and Design class, that would be the centerpiece of all the projects. By the end of the day, I had effectively re-learned all I knew about Arduino, and, in doing so, had created both the hardware and software for a morse code decoding machine (photos attached). This took me most of the day, and the final minutes were spent testing my creation, and reveling in the pride of a job well done. I had a great first day at the Museum of Natural Sciences, and I can’t wait to come back!