Okay, science teachers, shoot straight with me. Your reasons for assigning science fair projects year after year has nothing to do with science, right? Please tell me you’re getting a kickback from the trifold presentation board companies. I’ll even accept that it’s your one opportunity to stick it to us for the times throughout the year our kids talked out of turn, didn’t put their name on an assignment or asked for extra credit because they couldn’t comprehend that not studying for quizzes equals poor grades. What I will not accept is that you look forward to looking at these pieces of cardboard crap each winter.
For all you parents who haven’t experienced this particular form of parental torture, let me paint you a picture:
Step 1: You’ll hear something about the science fair due date but pretend it was just a figment of your imagination. “It can’t be that time of year again,” you’ll think.
Step 2: Your children will procrastinate. You will procrastinate. Everyone will remain in denial.
Step 3: You’ll ask your kids why they waited until the last minute to give you a list of supplies, taking no responsibility because you are the parent and that’s your right. Side Note: The basic supplies are the same every year — trifold presentation board, pre-cut letters because for the love of all things holy don’t allow your child to free-hand the title and maybe some colored construction paper.
Step 4: You will go to Target, but trust me, they will not have a presentation board for sale. I can’t say for sure why Target is always out of these, but if you happen to find one within two weeks of the science fair project due date, it’s the equivalent of happening upon a unicorn at the end of a rainbow in your backyard.
Step 5: Head to whatever office supply store is nearby and pay $8,000 for this board because they know you’re desperate. The lady at the register will cheerfully ask, “Working on a science fair project?,” and you’ll instantly want to throat-punch her.
Step 6: More procrastination ensues.
Step 7: Whatever experiment is needed will produce a giant mess, result in an insane amount of whining, and there will be a moment when you actually hope the project fails because of their half-ass attempt. If nothing else, all of the pain and misery will at least teach them a lesson, right? Wrong. See Step 8.
Step 8: They come home delighted with their “A.”
It’s the equivalent of a participation trophy — complete the tasks, put something on a presentation board, and you’re good to go. For example, feast your eyes on this delightful piece of work from last year. Notice the artistic risks taken by placing the “S” upside down and using a combination of lower and upper case letters in no particular pattern. This, my friends, is “A” work. Don’t get me wrong, I would be mad about anything less than an “A.” But when it comes to science fair projects, I simply can’t be pleased.
I hear rumors about kids completing projects that are worthy of an actual science fair where they compete for ribbons and real people judge their work. My kids have never been asked to participate, and thank the good Lord for it because once that project is turned in, all I want to do is prop my feet up with a glass bottle of wine and watch The Bachelor.
This year, my expectations were slightly elevated when my daughter’s topic involved making three batches of cupcakes. At least I’d get to stuff my face with tiny bites of goodness while yelling about waiting until the last minute. No such luck — it’s as if the ability to receive joy in the midst of the science fair project experience would go against nature. Those cupcakes were practically inedible.
Back to my original question. Why? Haven’t all the experiments and theories been proven or disproven? Aren’t kids just getting their ideas off the Internet or dusting off an older sibling’s project from years ago? Can’t parents go back to spending insane amounts of money on the required 3-inch binder on the school supply list at the office supply store vs. a flimsy piece of cardboard? To the teachers, whom I respect so much for putting up with my children more hours in the day than I care to — wouldn’t you rather sit back and watch the kids suffer through a pop quiz instead of lackluster attempts at presenting their “scientific” findings?
As near as I can tell, the only ones who suffer here are parents and teachers, and haven’t we suffered enough? Let’s bind together, replace the science fair project with something more useful like mandatory student classroom cleanings, and place that suffering squarely back on the shoulders of those who deserve it. The children.
