Discovering Magic: Regina DiStefano and Lower School Science

One of her colleagues said it best, “She literally is SUPER WOMAN.” And I have to agree. But what struck me most as I explored the world of Lower School science was just how much my goals for my “big kids” matched the goals Regina has for her “little kids.”

When Regina and I first met to talk about her program, I asked her what she believes defines her approach to Hackley Lower School science. At the center of her multifaceted response was her desire for her students to “find meaning in the world” and to “constantly be wondering.” Amongst the haze of SATs, college-applications, and dramatic prom- posals* this is the same lesson I hope to impart on my students.

So how do we as teachers accomplish these goals? The answer to that question varies from teacher to teacher, but what is clear is that the groundwork for inquiry-based science at Hackley begins with Regina DiStefano in the Lower School.

Families touring Hackley will often say the school resembles Hogwarts. If so, then Regina’s second-floor classroom is that magical room at the top of several moving staircases that manages to make you feel that you are no longer inside, but instead exploring the natural world outside. Windows cover one entire wall of the Lower School science classroom. When I walked in for the first time, I felt enveloped in the trees. None of the surrounding school buildings or neighborhood houses were visible. Instead, the view was a panorama of tree branches, the sky, and birds as they flitted past the windows. In elementary school, teachers chastised me for staring out the window; this classroom would have been my downfall.

Luckily, what I soon discovered was that the inside of the classroom was just as lively and magical as the outside world. Old hornets’ hives and birds’ nests hang from the ceiling. Colorful solar system projects cover another wall. There are books everywhere, posters of local bird species, and reconstructed owl pellets. And just when I began to border on sensory overload, my eyes landed on what might be the best- kept secret of Hackley—the Science Word Wall. It is a wall full of science vocabulary. Words like “crenate,” “arachnid,” “conduction,” and “momentum” stand proudly on the wall in big, glossy, black letters.

True magic!

You may think I am the biggest nerd for falling in love with this wall, but when I told my juniors and seniors about this phenomenal creation—well, actually, first they did laugh at me—but then they started pestering me to create their own Science Word Wall in my classroom. At the core of all sciences, but especially biology, is a bevy of new vocabulary. I often write on graded assessments, “Please use your science vocabulary.” The smooth endoplasmic reticulum produces lipids, whereas the rough endoplasmic reticulum produces proteins. Fail to delineate the adjective, smooth or rough, and it is impossible to know this particular organelle’s function. Even within these two sentences, new questions pop up in relation to vocabulary; “What is a lipid again? An organelle?” It can be never-ending—hence the begging for an Upper School Science Word Wall.

When I asked Regina about the Word Wall, she told me it was “just the best” classroom aid, reminding students to focus on what they say and how they say it. Exploring and discovering meaning is all well and good, but without the basic skill set of vocabulary, students cannot ask the appropriate questions. It is not enough in Regina’s classroom to say “see- through” when “transparent” is on the Word Wall. She believes students “feel better and more capable if the work is hard for them,” and part of that capability is appropriate use of science vocabulary.

This conversation about language underscores a central tenant of effective science education. These days, the buzz in science education is all about “STEM,” and many curricula—and more important, many students—seek to compartmentalize STEM (science, technology, engineering, and math) as subjects completely detached from humanities classes. Not only does this reinforce old stereotypes, encouraging those students who naturally gravitate to quantitative subjects to justify their resistance to the humanities while marginalizing those who more naturally gravitate to literature and arts, it fundamentally detracts from the depth with which each student can engage with the subject. Through language we not only learn and build a stronger foundation, but also unlock other doors.

“Endo,” for example, derives from the Greek endon, which means “within.” Understanding this, we can conclude that both the smooth and rough endoplasmic reticulum must be within something. My first year teaching at Hackley, a student floored me by nonchalantly stating, “Of course, the function of the cloaca [an opening in birds for the release of both excretory and reproductive products] makes sense because the Latin association of the word is ‘sewer.’” With this observation, this student engaged every other student in the classroom and ensured that no one would ever forget the term cloaca.

And this is what I think is so phenomenal about Regina. She understands and manages to create a science classroom that is incredibly hands-on and inquiry-based without losing sight of the other skills students need to have to simply be good students. One of the days I visited Regina’s class was a day she deemed “a boring day” because her first grade students were doing research for their research projects. Now, I do not know what you were doing in your school in first grade, but I can assure you, I was most certainly not involved in research of any kind. And yet here was a classroom of little people, all focused on gathering information on their assigned animals. To make them feel special, and to keep them focused, Regina set-up blue cardboard dividers around students to create the feeling of cubicles. Regina notes, “Students need to learn to look at sources, understand and question where information comes from, and draw conclusions from what they gather—facts or data.” With the amount of information available to students instantaneously these days, it is never too early to learn this lesson.

In my conversations with students, parents, and colleagues, it is clear that Lower School science is fun. Regina said it best when she told me she loves her job because she “gets to play all day long.” Students build racecars and race them in the hallway. The different modes of heat transfer—conduction, convection, and radiation—became a delicious lesson when taught through the vector of popcorn.

A current senior who had Regina in third grade distinctly remembers the still popular catapult- building activity. The assignment is to build a catapult out of pieces of wood, paper, glue, and rubber bands. The activity focused on trial, error, and recording of results, in order to learn from each attempted design—in short, the real-life scientific method. He recalled that his catapult “worked terribly, but it was a lot of fun to build.” Whenever I perform dissections with my students, the Hackley lifers always—and I mean always—remember dissecting the owl pellet in Lower School—slowly pulling apart the regurgitated pellet looking for bones that they have to then rebuild into a complete mouse skeleton. Students learn to identify the bones not only by structure, but also by name. This activity is time-consuming, meticulous work that requires attention to detail and patience.

These are the moments that resonate with Hackley students. Science is a living, breathing, constantly evolving process, and if done properly, a fun process as well. My current students do not remember doing research in Regina’s class. They do not remember her focus on the scientific method and using proper terminology. What they do remember are the owl pellets, the final fourth grade “Wolf Unit," and the opportunity to venture out and explore the 250 or so acres of woods on Hackley’s 285 acre campus. But whether the students who have gone through the Lower School are aware of it or not, this strong foundation is lodged in their brains. I see it every day in my classroom and outside of my classroom.

When I say outside, I mean outside. My classes trek through the wilds of Hackley regularly. Upper School Biology and Ecology teacher Tessa Johnson’s Ecology classes are in the woods every day. Often, Tessa’s students pair up with Regina’s Lower School students to check for salamanders in varying locations in the woods. These Upper School-Lower School student partnerships continue throughout the year and often evolve to lasting devotion. (One Lower Schooler frequented the sports games of his Upper School “salamander buddy.”) The Upper School students are amazed by how much knowledge of science and the woods the little people have and it is all a testament to Regina. She introduces the students to the Hackley woods, to the plants and animals local to the area, and all the while holding the students accountable for the proper names of species, and encouraging them to view the world with wider eyes.

Tessa and I have hatched ducks in our classroom for the last three years. The level of craziness in our classroom the first few days after the ducks hatch may in fact rival prom-posal season. Regina brings many of her science classes to visit the ducks throughout the process—from eggs, to hatchlings, to toddler ducks. Tessa and I take turns talking to the Lower Schoolers who come to visit. Often our Upper School students will even take over and speak. It’s wonderful to watch the Upper Schoolers step into these responsible roles and tread into the world of communication with youngsters. We are always struck by how observant Regina’s students are. They notice how the water rolls of the ducks’ oily feathers, or can point out bloods vessels in the developing embryo while it is still in the egg.

My Upper Schoolers are always surprised to find how smart and curious Regina’s students are and I have to remind many of them that I am sure they were like that in Lower School. They shrug and respond, “Debatable.”

Once the little people leave our classroom, the overall energy level of the room immediately drops and there is a quiet moment of reflection. Another Hackley lifer informed me that she loved when the Lower Schoolers visit because she remembers being a kindergartner and having a fourth grade “buddy” during Regina’s legendary “Wolf Unit.” She once thought her fourth grade “buddy” was the coolest person ever and couldn’t image being on the brink of leaving Lower School to enter Middle School. Now this lifer is about to graduate from Hackley. I say graduate intentionally, because I do believe once you are part of Hackley, you never truly leave Hackley.

But when this student does leave Hackley, I know that she will leave with a strong foundation in science that all started with Regina. She will leave with a desire to explore the world around her, a desire to question, and with a fondness for owl pellets. Most important, she will graduate with the knowledge that there are certain key skills—language, writing, communication, the importance of sources—that not only apply to science, but have also been key elements of her many other Hackley classes.

This is what makes Regina so outstanding as a teacher. As one of her colleagues noted, “Our Lower School students are taught the same procedure for conducting an experiment as the Middle and Upper School students as they formulate a hypothesis and either prove or disprove it methodically.” Regina makes it fun and creative without losing academic rigor and while building stronger students. Not to mention, she’s doing all of this in heels.

After spending this time in the Lower School world, I realize that in so many ways, my students are really just Regina’s students trapped in big bodies. There is no such thing as Lower, Middle, or Upper School Science at Hackley. There is only Hackley Science. And Regina is its foundation.