Francis Tuttle: A Short Story

“Where’s the alcohol?” he screamed at me. “Where is the ice?” I yelled back. We were running around like chickens with our heads cut off because if we didn’t get that alcohol to the perfect temperature, nothing would work out right. Once we got the alcohol perfectly chilled, we mixed it with the sweet smelling strawberries, and our concoction was complete. But we still screwed up. The kid we were trying to impress just ran screaming right out of the lab.
Earlier, my partner and I explained to the kid that we would be extracting DNA from a strawberry, and that this same DNA stuff was in everyone’s body. But I guess it was too much for him to handle because as soon as the white gunk formed he sprinted down the hallway. Once I consoled him and re-explained the lab, he exclaimed “Can I see my own DNA?” My emotions of utter disbelief and excitement came bubbling out of me as I said “Sure! Let’s get started.” This kids name was Ben. And Ben along with some of his friends, were the middleschoolers I spent the summer of 2016 scaring and exciting about chemistry at Francis Tuttle.
The teachers and the labs there catalyzed my fascination with chemistry, and I wanted to give back by sharing the experiences I had with others. Though, I was immediately rejected by Ben’s disgust with DNA, I eventually sparked an interest for chemistry in him and my other little scientists. By the end of the camp, they had actually researched, on their own time, how certain chemicals affect the body, and they told me some things I didn’t even know! That’s when I realized that my actions sparked their sudden fascination with chemistry, and more importantly their excitement to