Elephants, Swordfish, and **Bob**
A kindergarten-sized human once asked me “If clouds are made of water, and Mount Washington always has clouds, could you fit three elephants on the summit?”
I had just finished teaching a class on clouds when I received this most profound of questions. With a class that young the learning objectives on the science side of things generally starts and ends at ‘clouds are water.’ To tell the truth, even that is a bit ambitious. The real goal is to turn a cloudy sky from something that just exists in the periphery of their vision to something they pay attention to and form questions about.
Sometimes, however, a particularly daring student will propose more than just a question. Upon being told the current wind gusts on the summit were 90 miles per hour, a 5th grade student proudly informed the class that “that’s faster than a swordfish!” In case you’re wondering, the top speed of a swordfish is only 60 miles per hour. He was, in fact, absolutely correct.
Had it not been for this comment, I may have tragically gone my entire life without comparing the top speed of a swordfish to a typical wind gust on Mount Washington. Perhaps you wouldn’t have either. I wonder how many thousands of such ideas have been lost in each of us somewhere in the process of growing up.
A few weeks later I was teaching a class on climate zones in which the students had to draw a landscape with the flora and fauna of a climate zone of their choosing. I went to check on the progress of one group that had firmly rejected my offer of colored pencils. In the center of their group their ringleader had drawn a swarm of gigantic flying eyeballs with wings, along with a long-limbed creature named **Bob**.
Now, though I was slightly skeptical of the objective existence of these creatures, I make no claim to having been everywhere or seen every animal out there. Instead, I simply asked what I was there to teach, “what's the climate like there?”
The girl nodded her head vigorously, now remembering the whole point of the exercise. In the top right corner, she scrawled out a gigantic sun and in the center of the page wrote the words “no seasons only summer.”
I became an educator with certain ideas of what I would accomplish if I did my job well. I hoped to serve my country by inspiring the next generation to pursue careers in STEM. I hoped to serve my community by inspiring newfound passions in the students I taught. What I’ve discovered is that the inspiration already exists within them in copious amounts and it is far stranger and far more imaginative than anything I could ever provide. All that's left for me is allow that inspiration to be set loose for an hour and, where possible, answer the bizarre questions I will surely continue to get.
So, to answer your question Mr. Kindergarten-sized human, yes. Yes, you could fit three elephants on the summit of Mount Washington, it just might get a bit cold. I await your design for a triple elephant sweater.
Alexander Templeton (he/him) is serving with the Mount Washington Observatory as a school programs educator. He can often be found in the mountains on one adventure or another. Learn more about Templeton here.