We took the kids to the natural history museum over the weekend, where they saw their first planetarium show.
The beginning of the presentation depicted a daytime sky. As soon as the sun appeared, the little J-dog dutifully shielded his eyes, even though we told him it was OK on account of it being a planetarium and all. He watched the rest of the show through a crack between his fingers.
It's a proud testament to my hyper-vigilant parenting style (DON'T LOOK AT THE SUN, KIDS! ARE YOU LOOKING? STOP LOOKING! YOU'LL BURN OUT YOUR EYEBALLS!), and it reminded me of the fifth grade, when a once-in-a-lifetime total solar eclipse occurred in our hemisphere.
It just so happened that this very special eclipse was even more spectacular if you happened to live, as I did at the time, in the deep south. In my little Catholic grade school, we spent many a science period preparing for the auspicious day by making shoe box solar eclipse viewers. I don't recall the exact details, but the shoe box solar eclipse viewer is a low-tech sciencey-type of contraption whereby you can indirectly view an eclipse without blinding yourself.
On the morning of the eclipse, the brothers Rama and I traipsed off to school brimming with excitement about the phenomenon we were to witness that day. The buzz in my classroom was reaching a fever pitch as we fifth graders tinkered with our viewfinders and prepared to file outside to witness the scientific marvel that was mere minutes away.
But it was short lived. Only moments later, our diminutive and roundly feared principal - Sister Patricia Ann - walked in. She pulled down all the blinds, confiscated our eclipse viewers and had us put our heads down on our desks for the duration.
We couldn't be trusted not to look straight at the sun. Someone was bound to burn their eyeballs out.
My mom experienced the eclipse standing in our backyard. She said it was the coolest thing: twilight at ten o'clock in the morning, even the birds were still.
And I guess I can see where Sister Patricia Ann was coming from, but I've never really forgiven her. I associate "eclipse" with the gluey smell of my fifth grade desktop, and I always wonder: has anyone actually burned their eyeballs out?
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
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10 comments:
I wonder that too. I remember those eclipse-viewing things. I was definitely to scared to look at the sun. Darn nuns.
A few years ago when we had an eclipse there was much concern about burning your eyeballs out by the media. I can't actally remember what I did to protect my eyes but ever since my eyesight has gone downhill - maybe I just singed them a little?
Nuns. Can't live with 'em. They ruined many a happy moment in my childhood.
I wanted to say something, but, it may come across derogatory toward Catholics. Mind you, Catholics are not the problem, it's the priests and nuns. Then again the money swindling Kenneth Copelands of the world are no better.
Knot
Came over from Knot's site... Your post brought back memories of my own grade school eclipse-viewer experience. And MEAN nuns who thought I was doomed to a life in hell because I began my grade school career in a public school and didn't get to the Catholic school until 5th grade when it was already too late. Do you think I harbor just a bit of resentment?
Have to go see what Knot has to say about the nuns now...
That sounds vaguely familiar, the eclipse part not the nuns. What a bummer you guys couldn't watch it.
So cute about J-Dog though.
Fifth grade when that happened? Sigh. The Matron was like, an elder statesman, already.
yup that's Catholic school alright!
What a great story, Rima! Yeah, I always wonder about eclipses myself. So funny that you were face down on your desk, dang nun LOL!
Happy New Year to you and your family, Rima!
Nunthing was as good as THIS.
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