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I remember that as I was considering life beyond high school, my college counselor suggested that I consider going to university to study chemistry. I had a hard time believing that advice, having grown up in a small rural village in the Netherlands — where even the concept of girls studying science was far beyond most peoples’ imaginations. Fortunately, the counselor’s encouragement, along with the confidence I gained while working a particular summer job, drove me to apply and enroll at Wageningen University, in Wageningen, The Netherlands, where I earned my master’s degree in molecular sciences.

Early impressions

I was fortunate to have some enlightening educational experiences with chemistry, starting at a young age. When I was in upper elementary school (I must have been 10 or 11 years old) we got a new classroom teacher. This new teacher joined our small school with a huge amount of enthusiasm for everything related to biology. I vividly remember when he introduced us to a project exploring the phenomenon of acid rain — a topic that fascinated me but also seemed somewhat sad. I was especially intrigued that something as familiar as rain could turn acidic and affect trees, and it was depressing to see images showing the impacts acid rain was having on the coniferous forests just north of the Netherlands. I remember wondering at the time whether we could ever undo this. Could we somehow make the rain less acidic?

Later, I had a high school science teacher who always talked about how small atoms and molecules were. He often challenged us to imagine ourselves being really small, so that this new subatomic world would open up to us. He encouraged us to imagine shrinking ourselves into a test tube and beyond, and then to look around us to witness, or even take part in, a chemical reaction. I remember having a difficult time imagining the world from that perspective.

Impactful experiences

During high school, I took a summer job in a quality control laboratory. Since I was too young to do any lab work when I first started, I was assigned to update the database containing the chemicals inventory, including all safety data. I remember reading about many sorts of chemicals — some that were mutagenic or carcinogenic, others that could spontaneously combust, still others that should not be stored together or mixed together — and much, much more.

Even this seemingly menial task ignited my curiosity, leading me to ask a lot of questions! Luckily, one of the lab employees was both knowledgeable and patient, and she was happy to answer all these questions. I continued returning to this lab each summer, and sometimes during other breaks, throughout high school and college.

This recurring summer lab job provided an important and immediate context for me during each of my chemistry classes. For example, when I learned about stoichiometry, I didn’t have to ask, What is the point of this in real life? — because I already knew the answer. As I progressed in my studies and my skills, I was allowed to perform more and more of the analytical methods carried out by the lab. My favorite method was determining the amount of iron in drinking water for cattle. We did this by doing a redox titration with permanganate, and the color change that takes place during this titration is still one of my favorites to use with my students!

Finding my way to teaching

Though I had originally intended to work at the same quality control lab once I completed my master’s degree, I started to recognize that I was actually looking for a different kind of challenge. I was enjoying the various research projects I was completing through my Molecular Sciences program and started considering what types of careers might bring me enough new and different types of challenges to maintain my interest.

Though working in the lab provided an excellent foundation for me, I eventually decided to look into becoming a high school teacher and, in my final semester at university, I was hired as a part-time teacher. After fulfilling the remaining licensure requirements, I began teaching full-time.

Each of my school and lab workplace experiences has informed my current teaching practices in some way. My teachers in elementary and high school unknowingly influenced what would become my teaching philosophy, while my summer job as a chemical technician helped me recognize the significance of connecting new learning to practical applications.

In my years as a teacher, I’ve always tried to help students develop an understanding of the world at a submicroscopic level. For me, one of the biggest challenges in this effort is conveying the difficult-to-imagine smallness of everything. A closely related point I also try to stress is the vast number of particles we are dealing with all the time, even when we do simple things like taking a sip of water, breathing in fresh air, or using a pencil to write our names. Now, I am the teacher who routinely invites her students to imagine the subatomic world. I tell my students:

Sometimes a student will ask, Do we actually have the letters H and O in our bodies? Fortunately, they usually catch themselves and correctly answer their own question. I find moments like these are a great time to remind students of the different ways we can talk about the world we observe — whether from a macroscopic or particulate perspective, or through the use of symbols.

Like my elementary school teacher, I now continually search for ways to connect the topics we discuss in class with things the students can better relate to. A few years ago, when I was asked to teach Environmental Science, I experienced a “full circle” moment.

As the curriculum was somewhat flexible, I was able to bring students into planning the course details. During these conversations with students, I was reminded of my conflicting fascination and sadness regarding acid rain. Journeying through recent history, my students (and I along with them) learned not only about the chemical reactions that create acid rain, but also about chemical methods to prevent acid rain from forming in the first place.

Along the way, I also learned of a neat example of effective science communication that I later discussed with my students. Several areas on our planet have actually experienced a reduction in acid rain over the past 30 years. This achievement resulted from a combined effort of chemists and other science professionals, some of whom identified solutions to prevent acid rain from being formed, and others who helped conceive, draft, and implement governmental policies conducive to the development of these methods.

How exciting it was for me to finally have an answer to my 11-year-old self’s question, while continuing to learn along with my students!

Similar approach, different subject

I stress some of the same insights about size and scale in both my chemistry and biology classes. For example, my 9^th grade biology students learn about sickle cell anemia. This disease is caused by a single mutation in the DNA strand, which leads to a single amino acid being changed in the otherwise massive hemoglobin protein. That small change causes the hemoglobin to misfold, exposing a hydrophobic area of the protein and therefore changing the way it behaves inside the body.

Even at this early point in their science education, my students are building an understanding of size and scale. I enjoy seeing the fascination and wonder on their faces when they realize that a change in something as small as a nucleotide can have a dramatic effect on the human body. My students are learning how structure and function are interwoven, and that small changes at the molecular scale can have massive influences at other scales.

Paying it forward

My summers in the lab gave me the skills and confidence to pursue my education in chemistry. They also gave me a unique perspective, one that I hope to be able to pass on to my own students as I continue to design and deliver learning experiences for them. For example, I teach a chemistry elective about acids and bases in which, at the end of the course, the students make kombucha (Figure 1).

While learning about acetic acid bacteria and their role in fermentation, students record the pH of their brews each day we meet, and they also record glucose levels to determine whether all the added sucrose has been converted. Students learn not only how to create a calibration series (Figure 2) to measure ethanol production with a Vernier ethanol sensor, but also about the value (and necessity) of creating a reliable calibration line when they test their own kombucha. Students in this class learn the importance of product quality control through experience. They also realize that a reliable decision (can we safely and legally drink our own kombucha?) depends on a reliable calibration.

My time in the quality control lab continues to inspire many of the lessons I create for my classes. The level of engagement I observe in my students throughout these lessons is stimulating, and it motivates me to continue creating these types of learning experiences.