Inspiring Minds to Take Flight
Teachers Use Space Training to Rouse Love of Math, Science

By Michael Alison Chandler
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, September 16, 2007; LZ01

After a day spent somersaulting in zero gravity in an airplane, a group of math and science teachers were still sporting flight suits when they stood before their classes Friday morning at Seneca Ridge Middle School.

The teachers, dubbed the Seneca 5, had been selected along with more than 50 colleagues in the Washington area to try the kind of training that astronauts undergo when they prepare for space missions.

And although the video footage that the students watched Friday showed their teachers playing with Slinkys, darting after floating M&Ms and being catapulted through the air in a game of "toss the teacher," the Seneca 5 managed to add a little science and learning to their class time as well.

After all, the purpose of their weightless mission, which took off Thursday from Dulles International Airport and was funded by a Northrop Grumman foundation, was to have an inspiring experience to share with young scholars who might pursue careers in math or science.

So in addition to letting her eighth-grade students ooh and aah over the teachers' twists and turns, Lynne Austin drew a parabola on the whiteboard to explain how an airplane can simulate weightlessness only a few miles off the ground by ascending and descending a steep arc.

Christopher Souther explained to his seventh-grade life sciences class that ascent at a nearly 50-degree angle makes one feel 1.8 times the force of gravity. Then he asked his students to factor how much he would weigh on the ascent. When they figured 360 pounds, he was relieved to report that on the way down he was light as a feather. Sheryl Dufour, the lone math teacher in the crew, plans to present similar problems throughout the year.

Most of the teachers shared the results of an experiment they had conducted in zero gravity so their students could compare them with results they had found in their science labs. The students had counted how many water droplets they could fit on the surface of a penny before the water spilled over the edge. In zero gravity, the teachers found that they could make the bubble much bigger before it toppled.

In between lessons, the teachers shared artifacts from the trip: yellow socks with treading that helped them maneuver, a space-friendly pen, even a white air-sickness bag that fortunately none of them had to use.

Students showered them with questions about their voyage, such as "Did your ears pop?" and "Does blood float in space?"

In an informal poll of Rhonda Labuhn's eighth-grade students, only a few said they intended to pursue careers in math or science. But when asked how many would like to fly in zero gravity, all the hands shot up.

In Rick Peck's classroom, decorated with pictures of stars and planets, the sixth-graders were so excited about going on their own zero-gravity flight that they appealed to the principal. And when Peck told them that a flight simulating zero gravity costs thousands of dollars for regular customers, they immediately began brainstorming ways to raise money.

"Lemonade stand!" "Carwash!" "Bake sale!" The suggestions kept rolling in. When Peck suggested they might want to think of more lucrative activities, they said, "Ask Bill Gates!" "Oprah Winfrey!" "Ryan Seacrest!"

Peck turned their ideas into a homework assignment in persuasive writing that could be paired with a language arts class. He suggested that the students write their request to a person or a foundation, and the students left the class buzzing.

Although his regular lesson plan had been thrown off course by their planning, he said: "I try to be contagious. I love science! If I can get them to be contagious, that's all I could ask for."