She hate me

The kids don't care about it as much as I do. This is the typical lament we science teachers share. And because I didn't recognize this, I bored the hell out of my class today.

I thought to myself, "Self, you should play for them a broadcast from Science Friday that discusses the relationship between evolution and intelligent design. After all, you are beginning a unit relating evolution to environmental science and you teach in a catholic high school."

So I fired up the intertubes. The radio program played. I took notes on the board, along with the kids. At important points, we paused and discussed. At first, ideas were shared. I got the students used to identifying the various panel guests on the program. But as the hour wore on, I could see it. The thin film of detachment covering their once bright and shiny eyes. The strings of drool began their inexorable reach down, down, down to the desks.

How could this be? The discussion was entirely about communication! It contained no science jargon (which amounts to triptophan for kids). I paused for interaction with carefully planned questions! I asked them to share with partners their opinions! It was IRA FLATOW for crying out loud!

I just wanted them to know why there is a debate at all. If scientists are so sure of evolution, how can their be arguments against it? And, more importantly, I want them to not just accept evolution, but be good scientists and look at the data and evaluate.

I wanted them to care.

Rookie mistake.

I can get kids interested in science by providing relevance. But true caring? Can anyone do that? Can any teacher move a student from being interested in something new to truly caring? I believe not. Caring comes from the heart, not the mind. I can inform, and inquire, and cause inquiry, but caring comes from experience. It is experience that causes us to care. Some event in our lives must reach down to that core and really change us. I can set the stage for those moments, but I can't force them.