23 Together We’re Better

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Together We're Better Scientific collaboration (noun). When scientists work together to strengthen their research projects. This means that they share ideas, not that they take their ideas to the gym. MY VOICE WAS GROWING HOARSE. So many parents, kids, and people had come by to ask me about my Rube Goldberg machine. I answered about a zillion questions. And I loved it. It's like the whole world was suddenly science obsessed. So far three judges had come by—Ms. Daly and our two fifth grade teachers. They all carried tablets as they scored me and asked a lot of questions. With a smile, I glanced over at the rows of tables with everyone's posters set up next to one another. Lights flashed as parents and grandparents took photos. To my left there was no poster. That was where Jeremy was supposed to be set up.

On the other side of Jeremy's empty spot, Dr. Caroline was talking to Phoenix. I elbowed Birdie, whose poster was set up to the right of mine. "Look," I whispered. "See who's coming to me next. Okay, I'm calm." Birdie rolled her eyes. "You're not calm. If you were a crayon, you'd melt." "Okay, fine. But I'm going to act like it's completely normal. I mean, I know I sort of spoke with her before. But this is different. I'm going to be speaking to Dr. Caroline in person about my project. About science!" I smoothed out my lab coat. I hummed. "Just a normal life. Just la dee da." Birdie nudged me. "Kate. Kate! She's here." I glanced up, right at Dr. Caroline. She had on a really pretty silver chain with a double helix that dangled right in front of me. "Oh, you're wearing DNA—deoxyribonucleic acid!" "Yes, I am!" I glanced down at my lucky pink cowboy boots. "We're both wearing pink!" "An amazing color," said Dr. Caroline. "Did you know that anything that has a bluish red to light red color can be considered pink? It can even have slight hints of orange, like in the color salmon, right?" I asked.

"That's right." Dr. Caroline said as she leaned forward. "So, tell me about your project, Kate. How did you choose this idea?" "I'm fascinated by batteries," I admitted. Even though my voice was steady, my insides weren't. I was a jumble of nerves. But I bravely plowed on. "As a little kid, I was always taking them out of flashlights. The remote control for the TV. Anything. I was just wowed that a tiny little battery could do so much. So, when I discovered that lemons, limes, and apples—oh, and potatoes!—could be used as batteries, I knew I wanted to learn how to do it." Dr. Caroline smiled and made a note on her iPad. "But I realized I wanted to do more. So I thought about how I could use batteries in a Rube Goldberg machine. I learned from your show that Rube Goldberg was a fascinating person—a cartoonist, an engineer, and an inventor—who liked to make complicated machines that accomplish simple tasks at the end. And I thought that turning on a calculator is a simple task that scientists do all the time. Plus, you can watch kids and adults make Rube Goldberg machines on YouTube. They're fun

and the chain reaction inspires people all over the world to dive into science. And what's better than something that inspires people to become scientists?" I demonstrated the machine (it worked!) and explained the science of every part of it—the geology behind the pebble, the physics behind dominoes, the size and shape of real strawberries and the properties of beeswax, the water displacement and absorption, and the chemistry of my lemon batteries. After that, I admitted some of the failures along the way. Like forgetting to test my batteries before trying the robot. "What did you feel like you learned from your mistakes?" asked Dr. Caroline. "I realized that you learn as much from what doesn't work as you do from what does." Dr. Caroline nodded. "Cognitive science, which is a special branch that studies the brain, shows that making and discussing mistakes makes us learn faster." "That's good. My best friend and I also talked a lot about our mess-ups. And helped each other with ideas. The strawberry looks good because of her," I said, pointing to Birdie. "Well, I'm having trouble not gobbling that strawberry up," said Dr. Caroline. "It looks so

real. Your friend is an amazing artist." Dr. Caroline's eyes lit up as she gazed at the chromatography experiment images and drawings on Birdie's poster. "So, you two worked together?" "Well, we helped each other out," I said. "Nice. Science is all about collaborations." Then Dr. Caroline asked me a few more questions before moving on to Birdie. At first, Birdie spoke in a quiet voice, but once she starting talking about getting to see ink separate, her voice grew more and more excited, more confident. Then she added that chromatography taught her how to catch a crook. Dr. Caroline took more notes, then she went over to the next aisle to look at Rory's cloud project. I could hear Dr. Caroline's voice. She was pointing and nodding and getting all jazzed about Rory's work too. I was proud of my project, but, honestly, I was worried about winning. I realized that a lot of other kids did a great job. And that was a good thing. But it meant I had competition with a capital C.I thought about what Dr. Caroline had said before, that it wasn't about winning. And I suppose it wasn't, but I still wanted to win anyway.