Here Comes Science: Making Learning Fun

I love learning. I think it stems from my own childhood, where I got really into reading and watching educational films (including School House Rock). I would get annual editions of Guiness World Records and Ripley's Believe It or Not and read them religiously.  I still remember the crazy, outlandish things that I read in those books.  For example, did you know that the record for most naked people to ride a roller coaster was 32 (and is now over 100)? I learned that as a little boy, and I was immediately jealous that they had a world record, and also grossed out that this was a record that someone thought to invent.

Record attempt not pictured here. Here's a platypus instead.

I believe that most children can remember something passionate that they loved learning about as a child. The desire to learn and discover seems to be, at least in my experience, innate in humans, like we're born with this craving to know things.  This concept is interesting because it kind of clashes with Locke's philosophy that we discussed in class. We learned about Locke's principle of the "Tabula Rasa" or the blank slate, and how children are born essentially pure and innocent, and the rest of their lives is filled in by what they learn and how they react to it.  I believe in Locke's concept in many ways. I don't believe that children are born evil or with their personalities hardwired into them.  I believe that a lot of that comes later.  But I do believe that in relation to knowledge, we are all born as blank slates, and that knowledge needs to be filled in gradually overtime, hopefully in a way that will make sense to us and in a way that we'll enjoy.  And that is why I loved Here Comes Science. Science and Math are the subjects that most students would argue are the most difficult to understand (based on my very scientific survey, involving a random sample of me, myself, and I).  But TMBG knows that songs make everything easier to learn.  So they took some basic scientific concepts and applied them to music, making them infinitely more enjoyable than just reading a textbook.

I also love that they were humble and self-aware enough to re-record their song "Why Does the Sun Shine" and include the correct, updated information.  And in a way, their willingness to do this encapsulates, better than any other song on the album, what makes science so great. We're always learning new information, scientists are constantly performing new tests and experiments, and the world is constantly reevaluating its view.  Thousands of years ago, Earth was the center of the universe.  Two hundred years ago, nobody knew that microscopic germs were why people got sick.  And a hundred years ago, the sun WAS a mass of incandescent gas.  The concept of plasma wasn't discovered until 1879 by Sir William Crookes, and it wasn't even identified as Plasma until 1928. So for a long while, most people held this incorrect belief about the sun, and it was taught as fact to children in school. It's quite reasonable that TMBG would make this mistake, since this is probably what they were taught in school.

Just another example of educational videos getting facts wrong 

(not to mention poor Pluto)

So kudos to them for addressing their error and, inadvertently, pointing out that science's ability to change and adapt based on new information is one of the things that makes science so great.

They Might Be Giants accomplishes what should be the goal for any great teacher: they make learning fun. They make learning catchy. They make learning interesting.  I wish I'd had this album when I was a kid. It's the kind of thing that lil' Steven would have loved.  Sesame Street tried a similar approach to their teaching style, with flying colors, catchy songs, and crazy characters. This is why they've stuck around for so long.  Even the much calmer Mister Rogers used songs and puppets in his show in order to teach kids. Because the best teachers know the truth: learning can, and should be, fun.





Also for fun: Here's The Simpson's version of I'm Just a Bill. Go crazy.

Pinocchio

Pinocchio is the stuff of nightmares.  And that's a good thing.  It's much harder to be an effective morality tale if the audience is not scared out of their minds.  And this is especially true for Pinocchio.  

Forget Cronenberg, this is Body Horror that sticks with ya 'til you die.

In fairy tales, wolves are supposed to be scary. Right and wrong are supposed to be transparent and easy to see.  As Bettleheim said, "the figures in fairy tales are not ambivalent--not good and bad at the same time, as we all are in reality...A person is either good or bad, nothing in between."  And the easiest way to differentiate right and wrong in a fairy tale is to show the drastic, terrifying consequences of making a poor decision. And boy does Pinocchio deliver on that.

In many ways, the wolves of traditional fairy tales are found all throughout Pinocchio's story.  True, there is no actual wolf (although Honest John the Fox comes as close as anyone to physically occupying that rule) but the archetype is there all the same.  Stromboli, Honest John, Gideon, and The Coachman all occupy this role.  They all deceive Pinocchio with enticing offers, and are eventually revealed to be the destructive monsters that they really are.

There is, however, one major difference in the way that the wolf archetype is used in traditional fairy tales and how it's used in Pinocchio.  Normally the wolf either succeeds in his goal to destroy the protagonist (as it is in early versions of Little Red Riding Hood) or he is outsmarted/killed by the protagonist or a protector (such as in, um, other versions of Red Riding Hood). However, NONE of the villains in the film are punished in any traditional way.  Not a single one.  Honest John and Gideon receive no karmic punishment for either of their kidnappings of Pinocchio.  On the contrary, they seem to receive a decent amount of money for both attempts.  Stromboli also receives no punishment.  He makes a large sum from Pinocchio's performance, pays Pinocchio with counterfeit money, then holds him against his will for future shows. (although you can argue that his losing Pinocchio and failing at his kidnapping plot was sufficient punishment for the story).  Worst of all is the Coachman, who not only kidnaps dozens of boys, but manipulates them into turning into jackasses and then sells them into forced labor.  And then he's never seen again.  Not only that, but we never see the boys/donkeys again.

I'm fascinated by this idea, mostly because it seems like Disney films normally do a tremendous job with karmic justice.  Maleficent is stabbed with a sword after turning into a dragon in Sleeping Beauty.  The Wicked Stepmother in Snow White falls off a cliff (and is struck by lightning).  Scar in The Lion King is thrown off a cliff and devoured by hyenas. Ursula in The Little Mermaid is stabbed with a boat (and is also struck by lightning).  

Disney sure knows how to kill a bad guy.  

Not doing so in Pinocchio provides a very interesting contrast.  Ultimately, the film's main purpose is not to punish evil, but to demonstrate its negative effects to Pinocchio, and by extension, the audience.  We learn that it's wrong to lie.  We learn that it's wrong to skip school.  We learn that there are consequences for smoking, drinking, and destruction.  And in some ways, the film's refusal to punish the wolves reflects some of the harsher realities of life.  Rich men get richer, even at the expense of others.  People can sometimes get away with committing crimes.  So by showing the audience the terrifying consequences of doing bad things, the film is able to provide a strong moral lesson for children, and by abstaining from punishing the villains, the film provides a deeper (albeit possibly unintentional) meaning about the harshness of life that can be appreciated by adults revisiting the film.

...also, Jiminy Cricket sucks at his job. Just putting that out there. It's important everyone knows.

Note: I'm just gonna leave this video from Cracked that over-analyzes Pinocchio in the funniest way. Warning: some language.

Son of Rambow:

In Son of Rambow, we find a sweet, quirky example of a film that deals with the transitional nature of childhood, as well as providing commentary on what media is appropriate for children, how children view media, and the impact that it has on childhood development.

In the film, we are given examples of two polar opposites in response to raising children: Lee Carter, who is raised with little to no supervision, and Will Proudfoot, who is raised with too much.  After viewing material that is far too mature for his age (First Blood), Will becomes obsessed and wants to star in a Rambo-esque film of his own.  This would seem to validate the idea that there are dangers in letting children watch mature content, and that viewing violent media that is inappropriate for their age will damage a child's psyche.  However, it's also important to remember that Will recently had lost his father, and this plays just as important a role on his development as the violent film does.  Without a strong masculine figure in his life, Will turned to the closest source he could find: John Rambo.  Also, his obsession with Rambo did produce positive results in his life.  He reached out, made friends, and found a common interest in film making that united them all together.  In fact, I argue that the violent climax happened not simply because of their dangerous obsession with a violent action flick, but because Will and Lee Carter were not working together on the project.  True, Will almost drowned earlier in the film when he was working with Lee Carter on the project, but that was due to a lack of communication rather than mere recklessness (Will never told Lee that he couldn’t swim).  Also, I believe that danger is an inescapable element of childhood, and children (to some extent) need to learn how to make their own mistakes and solve their own problems. 

Later in the film, Mary, Will’s mother, reminisces on a childhood event where she fell in love with a song, bought the record, and had her record player destroyed in order to protect her from the evils of pop music.  This reminds me of a similar story in my own childhood, where my cousins were forbidden to see any of the Harry Potter films, or read the books.  At the time, I was 10 years old, and I had already read all of the books and I had already seen the film, so I didn’t understand what the big fuss was about.  It was only later that I learned that my cousins weren’t the only ones who believed that Harry Potter was of the devil.  This isn’t anything new, as parents have always rallied against things that will supposedly corrupt their children, like heavy metal music or video games.  These things seem laughable to me now, but I’m not a parent, and soon one day I’ll be in the position of having to decide what material is appropriate for my own children.  What we think of as appropriate for children is always changing, and we need to be able to make media choices on a case by case basis.

In summary, every child grows differently, and parents need to find that difficult balance between too much supervision and not enough.  Even this is oversimplified, as some children may need more boundaries and restrictions, while others need more freedom and choice.  However, the film shows that by coming together as friends and being willing to communicate and work on problems, we can create great memories and overcome the difficulties of life.