Reading an article this morning – an interview – I was startled to find a challenge I faced decades ago discussed by the scientist being interviewed.
Archeologist Flint Dibble.
I mentioned this challenge in String Theory, part of The Science in Fiction set.
Specifically, lack of access to published material.
When I read this quote from the archeologist I immediately thought of what drove me to specifically mention lack of access to published material.
“Let’s be honest: academic literature is difficult to access.”
Something I saw first-hand in high school.
In the Bishop Pair dedication I mention the good fortune of having worked with with Stan Ovshinsky who taught me education is an adventurous discovery – a lifelong endeavor of adventurous discovery.
An adventure that can feel like being dropped down an elevator shaft and being told “You’re smart. You figure it out” as you fall.
Why this factors into Flint’s comment has to do with my time working at Plant 6, a repurposed elementary school in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan.
Flint Dibble of Cardiff University in the UK.
There were a number of doctoral candidates and researchers interested in Stan’s work.
Globally.
Many of them spent time at Plant 6.
Where Stan was a regular fixture.**
One of my jobs was to get research materials to them after the candidates had been been vetted.
Sometimes it meant carefully wrapping precious books that had seen better days and shipping by special post. More often it meant photocopying sections and getting those papers in the post.
One of the reasons I was nominated for this internship was related to my voracious appetite for subatomic particle research.
Quantum and theoretical physics.
That I’d been actively researching these topics since the age of 7 earned me the trust of more than one doctoral candidate.
To the degree they allowed me to work with them – helping them – in their thesis work.
As I stood at the copier I grew tired of staring at the farm kiddy corner to the plant. I began reading some of what I was copying.
Which led to me taking a closer look at materials in the library as a whole.
One of the first things I noted was that the information often conflicted with what was being taught in my high school physics class. When I questioned this I was informed it was part of the physics curricula for UM doctoral students.
You had to go through academic hell to get to the truth apparently.
I asked for and was given permission to read the material.
So long as I didn’t take it out of the library.
It came about that sitting in my physics class the teacher made a statement I knew from my work was not true. I raised my hand and politely explained the truth.
I will never forget his reaction.
He stared silently for a few blinks then asked how I knew after which he said, “Never mind. See me after class.”
Over the din of snickers from classmates who assumed I was going to get in trouble I mentioned my next class was a long-haul run across the campus. Very interested in my answer he promised to write an excuse for my tardiness which earned more snickers and being called a jerk by one of the guys in the class.
When I explained how I came by the information he gaped and said “You know Stan Ovshinsky? You know about Ovonics?”
I explained I knew the man very well and had been discussing quantum physics with he and Ric Ito among others.**
Thus began a dramatic change in my access to academic literature.
As I wrote my physics teacher let me read his academic journals in the library after school.
While he graded papers.
His actions were a gift that no price could be put on though I did find a way to repay his kindness.
Not to mention his time and his belief in me, my theories.
Stan was hosting a Fermi II Exhibit at Plant 6.
One of a small number of US Stops.
I asked if it was okay for me to bring my physics teacher.
I explained he had great admiration for Stan and would be thrilled to meet him.
Kid in a Candy Store
My teacher was amazed he would be allowed to come as my guest.
It made me happy to see him so excited at the prospect of meeting an industry hero.
After listening to the presenters we were allowed to view the exhibits. As we went around my teacher would surreptitiously point someone out and whisper, “Do you know who that is?”
Sometimes I did sometimes not but he was thrilled to be rubbing elbows with apparent industry greats.
He seemed to understand – though I hadn’t said a word – that what transpired in class made it seem as if I was wrong and therefor got in trouble so he took time the following Monday to talk to the class about the situation, including the discrepency between what we were learning and what was truth.
I didn’t think truth and knowledge should be accessible only to the few.
While most of the students in the class could have cared less a couple asked follow-on questions and one even asked to be my study partner.
We had many a philosophical discussion while studying for tests.
The guy that called me a jerk made sure I heard it again.
Such is life.
Seeing this article? Reading that comment about lack of access? Validating.
Not to mention interesting timing.
Time.
One of my favorite philosophical topics alongside energy.
Especially thought energy.
On A Side Note
I recently had a discussion with a wonderful gentleman from Jamf about education in a post-pandemic world. One of the points we discussed was the burden put on teachers to fix an issue they are not responsible for. I already had the Science in the Fiction project in the works and as you can see, teachers who gave freely of their time and energy – for me – are greatly responsible for its success.
Not to mention saving my teenage sanity.
My physics teacher is but one example of the wonderful people who choose to be there for students in ways that often go unnoticed.
** I was a high school junior when I worked at Plant 6. One day I zipped to Mickey D’s to get a Big Mac meal for lunch, high-tailing it back as I had a busy afternoon ahead of me. When I asked where the cafeteria was it was explained to me that it was closed off and everyone who didn’t go out for lunch ate at their desks. When I pointed out I didn’t have a desk – intern that I was – I was shown to a classroom empty but for a large desk.
I sat at the desk and ate.
While I ate I looked around, noted a few doo dads on a nearby built-in shelf. One of them caught my eye.
It was a chemical model of a subatomic particle.
I went over, examined it closely, noted the errors.
Based on my theories.
It also reminded me of my disappointment with chemistry which I was prepared to love.
Ended up falling in love with physics instead. Go figure.
As I was eating who should walk in but Stan Ovshinsky. Turns out I was eating in his office.
At his desk.
I never found out who the fink was that got one over on me but I imagine karma caught up to him somehow.
After assuring me he had no issue with me eating at his desk he asked me how I was enjoying my internship. During the conversation I pointed to the model and told him “That’s wrong.” Intrigued he asked me to explain.
Which my opinionated self was more than happy to do.
Next thing I know I’m explaining myself to Ric Ito and a number of scientists and researchers, some of whom I’d been helping with their doctoral thesis.
Which for the most part was being a sounding board and – budding novelist that I was – helping them interpret the strict format for a doctoral thesis, something I had to do myself decades later.
How Cool Is This?
I ran into Stan and Ric at a wedding.
Some ten years after my internship.
I told them how I used knowledge and experience gained from my time with them on a Master’s Thesis in college.
Geology research related.
I told them how I got an A.
They asked for and were given a copy of the thesis after which I was encouraged though given some pretty interesting feedback.
Feedback that further honed research skills that came in handy later.
When it comes to manifesting recent observations tell me we have to start in the direction we want to go and life will meet us halfway.
Elizabeth Maxim 