Hydrogen

I hope you don’t mind this, but right now I’m in the mood to launch into a scientific discussion. The topic? Hydrogen, which is a pretty darned amazing little element. I don’t know if you have ever given thought to elements on the periodic table, and why they might be noteworthy - I, for one, haven’t thought much about the periodic table - you know, whether thallium has more interesting properties than polonium or something. But hydrogen is special: out of all the little nuts and bolts that help keep the world spinning, this little bugger is definitely in the running for top ten.

So, the reason (or a reason) hydrogen is extremely important = hydrogen bonding. When I first studied this type of molecular interaction, my teachers all taught me that it was a very weak force. I dismissed hydrogen bonding as unimportant, and certainly not as interesting as ionic bonding, in which atoms have a straight up + or - charge, and are attracted to each other because of those opposite charges and generally form pretty-colored crystals. And covalent bonding, in which the atoms actually have physical electron bridges to each other: this bonding interaction is extremely strong.

But no, hydrogen bonding is this puny polar interaction of slightly positively coated hydrogens with slightly negative atoms (usually oxygen). Oxygen is a pessimist - it loves negativity, and sucks negative charge out of the hydrogens onto itself, making O more negative and H positive, such as in the water molecule H2O.

But I have so far only described why I had considered hydrogen bonding unimpressive - here comes the (hopefully) more interesting part. Hydrogen bonding is the reason water exists and allows this planet to be habitable. Without the millions of little interactions of hydrogen, a horrible oxymoron would be true: water would essentially be dry. It would evaporate fast, boiling at a low temperature. Since much energy has to be invested into water to disrupt the hydrogen bonding interactions and free the molecules from liquid form to become a vapor, water has the really weird ability to retain heat (comparable molecules have far lower boiling points) - this personality trait of water both keeps the temperature of earth fairly even, and regulates the internal temperature of our bodies, preventing our cells from exploding.



Hydrogen bonding, this weak little attraction between polar atoms is in fact an incredibly powerful and quite important force. It finds its strength in numbers. If I tied your hands with a piece of sewing thread, you would easily free yourself, but if I tied your hands with 150 pieces of thread, you’d find your bonds much more difficult to escape. The double strands of our DNA helices are held together by thousands of little hydrogen bonds between the groups on each strand; this is why our DNA is so sturdy, and is not easily ripped apart like single-stranded RNA is.

I like to think that hydrogen bonding sort of helps describe democracy - or perhaps less specifically, how people, banding together, can be vitally important to the world. One person might not be able to effect much change by himself, but a gathering of people can affect history, and a whole crescendo of voices can be heard.

Equilibrium

Equilibrium reactions. I can remember when my chemistry professor taught this concept in Chem 2 (That was way back when I was a young freshman in college: those were the good old days. Of course, I’m far wiser now as a sophomore in college.) His (my professor’s) way of teaching us this subject in lecture really stuck with me.

They, (the way he contemptuously spit the innocuous article out implied he thought of all chemistry high school teachers as second-class, low-grade persons not fit to be spoken of in erudite company), they taught you in high school that equilibrium reactions are some sort of stationary, boring solution where everything has come to a stop. Although at first glance, it looks as if the solution is simply an inactive chunk of reactants and products sitting blandly, staring at the walls of the beaker, nothing could be further from the truth.

These reactions that have reached an equilibrium are most certainly not static; the reactants are constantly reacting and forming products, while the products are constantly degrading and reforming reactants. That is the point of an equilibrium reaction; while the participants have reached a peaceful agreement as to concentration (i.e. the amount of the reactants and product remains the same), they are still flowing from one side of the reaction equation to the other, rapidly interchanging one chemical bond for the other.

I have a feeling many people are a lot like equilibrium reactions. And this feeling, or theory, or whatever name you wish to give it can work two ways. First, they can be apparently ordinary people, living normal lives. Perhaps they don’t seem to have very captivating personalities. But the truth is that they have creative ideas, brilliant minds, and have done fascinating things. Maybe they are honestly more interesting than noticeably charismatic people: they have reached an equilibrium, a peaceful point, but they have so much going on when you take a closer look. Or, secondly, these people can be completely insane. They look “at peace” on the outside, but that is simply at first glance, and it hides the fact that they are internally chaotic and crazy. (Last night I watched a movie about the Amish school shooting in 2006: the gunman looked like such a normal guy, but he was so wretched internally.)

As a child, I can remember being in the car with my mother driving down the highway so many times: almost every time, I was hit with a wave of overwhelming curiosity to know about the people driving down the highway in other cars. Most of those people’s faces looked normal and unconcerned as they whizzed by, but I knew that they each must have their own problems and concerns; I wanted to hear what they were thinking, to know what their minds were imagining. I then thought that there were millions and billions of people just like me, thinking thoughts at the same time as I was. These ponderings lent me such feelings of insignificance. Sitting in that car often gave me one of those fleeting moments of perspective where the bigness of life can overwhelm, drown a person. I am so grateful my chemistry professor taught us about equilibrium reactions.

The Mommy Track

After school today, I met my young nieces and my sister at Target. While carting my two oldest nieces around in a wagon, I noticed many other people shopping with small children. I have never seen that many kids in Target before. I guess either four pm happens to be a hot time for moms to go shopping, or being with the nieces caused me to notice other children. Not entirely sure which.

Watching moms interact with their children can be fascinating...and painful. I hate seeing the screamers; a mother screaming at her child for one reason or another. It makes me cringe and want to shake her: no matter what your child has done, don't scream at them - that's simply awful, and you are killing your child's heart.

Not so painful, but very annoying is the lax mommy. This woman is extremely permissive and easy-going; she lets her child run around and create havoc in the store, making everybody else's life miserable. She generally gives her kid whatever the heck he wants. Related to lax mommy is the badgered mother. She is a slave to her own children's whims. Her kids often bring out the alligator tears and throw tantrums to bully their mom into giving them what they want. And how can you blame the kids? They are smart to act exactly how mom has taught them to behave; cry enough, and mommy will give in.

If I had to write a book on raising children, I think I would use three words: boundaries, consistency, and spankings. Of course, I think that a "darn-good spanking" will do the trick almost every time. Spanking is infinitely better than screaming - if done with love (and not angrily), spanking gives the child a tangible sense of consequences for wrongdoing, and in practice, makes them much happier than before being spanked.

I hate to harp on this, but screaming is horrible (just thought of mothers yelling and dragging their child by the arm is like bright red fingernails on a squeaky chalkboard); it confuses the child, it scars them, and it brings the parent down to the level of the child.

Of course, it is incredibly easy for me to observe and denounce. The thought of being accountable for the life of a little person, of having responsibility of a child's heart mind and soul is staggering. Just plain scary. I cannot imagine when I will be ready to assume that type of responsibility. All this mommy talk made me think that motherhood is so undervalued these days. We think so little of this vocation.

My sister was a public school teacher before she had her daughters. After her third child, someone told her she had it easy staying home all the time and not having a real job. My sister was slightly annoyed. "It would be much easier for me to teach school - my job of training and teaching my daughters is very real, and it is not an 8 - hour day job. It lasts 24/7." I honestly cannot think of anything more important than raising children well - my hat is off to my sister and other women like her who spend all of their time raising their children.

Introduction

Singularity. (sĭng'gyə-lār'ĭ-tē) Noun. A point in space-time at which gravitational forces cause matter to have infinite density and infinitesimal volume, and space and time to become infinitely distorted. Really, it's a beautiful word for a “black hole.” If I had known this word personally when I was a senior in high school, I most likely would have chosen it for my college application essay: “What is your favorite word and why?”

It is such an elegant word with a fascinating definition to match it. A point at which time and space are infinitely distorted. This word makes me start thinking about life from a different perspective. It can be utterly dizzying taking a step back and looking at the universe. It is both breathtaking and frightening. All along the spectrum from microscopic to macroscopic, the complexity and delicate power of nature never ceases to thrill me.

Our DNA, so small that it is to our bodies what earth is to the milky way, contains information that equals about 200, that is two hundred, Encyclopedia volumes. Our lives can be completely disrupted by nature: a tornado or a hurricane can strip away our homes and lives in minutes. We think that nuclear weapons are impressively dangerous; according to unasked.com, the Mt. St. Helens volcano had the “energy equivalent to 27,000 Hiroshima-sized nuclear weapons” when it erupted. In space, supernovae, exploding stars, can expand to the size of our solar system and give off cosmic rays.

Everything in the universe has its unique individuality and beauty. To study and explore nature and the stars, dandelions and singularities; I can think of nothing more interesting. I have found that there is such poetry in something as seemingly mundane as solving a mathematical equation.

This blog isn't going to be a list of scientific case studies, but I can't help loving science and math, and it will necessarily be kind of sciency from time to time. I love the idea from Madeleine L'Engle in her book, “Troubling a Star” that the actions of a butterfly somehow have an effect on the most distant star across the universe. Really, I'm going to talk about life, with both the ordinary and extraordinary playing their parts.