Children’s science causes a particular kind of agony

How I hate science fairs. There should be a law against them. Oh, the pain and tears caused by science fairs over the years.

How I dreaded the science fair when I was in elementary school. In those days I was not so learned and my family was poor. We didn’t have the money to buy the things needed for a complex project. Every year I found myself up the scientific stream without a paddle.

Most of the middle class kids I knew were in the same boat. Their parents were working class people, not scientists. Some actually only had a high school education. They weren’t very helpful when they had to choose and guide their children through a science project.

The teachers never seemed to understand this.

Dreading the science fair, most students put off starting a project as long as possible. The hope, of course, is that there will be an earthquake or an asteroid impact before the project’s scheduled date, but that never happens. Disasters only strike after the science fair, never before.

So everyone waits until the last minute, which means there are 500 parents running to the store to get a poster board 24 hours before the project deadline. The store, of course, didn’t see this poster release coming, and it’s in limited supply. By the time the last parents get there, the supplies are gone. Oh, woe! What do we do now.

I once knew a mother who drove to three different cities to find a poster board the day before her son’s project was due. It was like searching for the Holy Grail. The day before the science project is due, the poster is worth more than gold.

If a man had the foresight to market poster board the week before the local science fair, he could start a black market operation that would bring in a fortune.

Ah, the other night before the science project. There is weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth. And madness always begins with the same question.

“Why did you wait until the last minute to start this?”

“Teacher didn’t tell us until yesterday,” comes the frantic reply.

Of course, the child knows full well that somewhere buried deep in a pile of papers in his bag is a crumpled note that the teacher sent home weeks or months ago. At the time, the science fair seemed like an eternity. Now suddenly the moment is here and panic sets in.

Somehow, the project always gets done. It’s usually not much of a project, but it’s a project, and that’s all that matters. Just get a grade, whatever it is. You won’t grow as a scholar anyway. Just write something on the poster board and pick it up. Just get it over with!

Sometimes a parent and child come up with a really neat project and feel that (yes, it’s almost always a joint effort) they have a shot at winning a prize. But they forgot about Johnny’s father.

Yes, there’s always that one kid in class whose dad is some kind of scientific genius. One look at Johnny’s project and you’ll know yours is doomed. Your project is one sheet of curved poster board, while Johnny’s takes up two whole tables.

Now you, the teacher, and all the judges know that little Johnny didn’t create this elaborate project, that his dad almost certainly came up with the idea and did most of the work. This makes your idea look so pathetic that you just want to throw it in the trash.

After all, you have finished your project. You won’t get zero and that’s all that matters. Johnny can take the blue ribbon. You’ll get a C (for effort) and be thankful.

I don’t like science fairs. I didn’t when I was a kid, and I didn’t when I was helping my kids through their annual tests.

Maybe they should grade parents, not students, on science fair projects. Parents are usually the ones who do most of the work and worry.

Furthermore, perhaps schools should offer counseling to both parents and students when the science fair is over.