A much fuller description is provided on the Articles and papers page.

The Field Visit

A-Level and pre-GCSE Mathematics students took part in a Field Visit to Stonehenge in 1^st May 2007, one day before Full Moon. The curriculum comprised practical project-based activities integrating content from mathematics, astronomy, climate science and history¹. The party was permitted full Stone Circle Access in the evening – and an opportunity to observe moonrise and sunset from the centre of the monument. These activities were documented on film, and students were encouraged to take part in its production. The Field Visit had two main aims:

• to improve mathematics motivation;

• to afford learners a powerful affective experience of the natural world.

The latter goal features prominently in certain understandings of environmental education.

Summary of findings

• The Field Visit was highly rated by student participants.

• There is some evidence that the Field Visit improved interest in mathematics within both pre-GCSE and A-Level cohorts. In the case of the pre-GCSE cohort, however, this effect seems to have been temporary, although situational interest was stimulated on the day. This cohort seemed to especially appreciate the opportunity of using mathematical tools. Some amongst the A-Level cohort expressed a preference for contextualising mathematics within integrated project-based curricula.

• Stone Circle Access afforded a majority of student participants a powerfully affective experience. Here are some of the words that students chose to describe their experience: inspiring, fabulous, stunning, intriguing, mystical, awesome, epic, great, fascinating, indescribable.

• The experience of some individuals might be characterised in terms of cosmological based identification. For example, one student reported
  …it was like in Physics when you talk about the Universe. Inside the circle she felt small. The builders of Stonehenge were probably smaller than her. But still managed to put up those big stones. She felt small in comparison to them.
  

[1] The objective of the A-Level mathematics activity was to calculate the azimuth (bearing East of True North) of the Summer Solstice sunrise in 2000 AD, 2000 BC, 3000 BC as seen from the centre of Stonehenge using a theodolite and trigonometry. The sunrise azimuth slowly varies over millennia due to oscillation of the tilt of the earth. This oscillation is one of the three Milankovitch cycles and it is thought to have been a causal factor in the alternation of glacial and inter-glacial periods between one and three million years ago.

Before my English teacher recommended Sunstorm I was not interested in maths or science at all. In this essay I am going to save a lot of explanation by just using bold type to show things and ideas which are new to me since I started reading Sunstorm. I am glad that I was told to use a pen name, because if my friends knew I was writing this I would be socially dead forever.

After I reviewed Sunstorm, I read Donna’s review of Seeker. The thing that I liked most about Sunstorm was the idea of a planet being fired across space to hit a sun, like a stone being fired at a target with a catapult. Then my maths teacher showed me how to model this on a computer, and I realised that it’s actually more like firing the stone from a catapult in London and hitting a melon in Australia or somewhere. Anyway, Donna’s review mentioned that something similar happened in Seeker, so I read that as well.

I found that Seeker is the last book in a set of three about the same characters (the first is A Talent for War and Polaris is in the middle). So then I read the other two as well. All of the books have the same pattern: there is a mystery, the main characters discover it through something to do with the antiques trade, historical research gets them close to solving the mystery, and the mathematics of moving bodies finally gives them the answer. The mysteries are all different, and make you want to read to the end, but I won’t spoil them by describing them here - and anyway, it’s the maths bits that interest me (I never thought that I would hear myself say that). The historical research interests me too.

In Seeker the maths was about how a stellar system is affected by a brown dwarf star passing close by. In A Talent for War, it’s where a spaceship would be after two hundred years. And in Polaris it’s sort of like a cross between Sunstorm and Seeker because a small but super dense star called a white dwarf hits an ordinary G class star like our sun (not deliberately, it just happens) and goes straight through it and out the other side and destroys it.

I have got totally into this moving bodies stuff. I find the ideas exciting. My maths teacher has shown me how to find information about it and I have done a lot of reading. He has also shown me how to use a spreadsheet and a program called Autograph to set up and investigate my own models. I have learnt a learnt a lot but the the biggest thing I’ve learnt is that I have gone as far as I can without learning some pretty scary maths.

I have started studying some AS maths modules on my own. Well not really on my own because my maths teacher is helping me before school and my uncle is helping me at home but I mean not in a class or anything. I have completed module M1, which is the first mechanics module, and started on M2. Mechanics is what they call the sort of maths that will eventually let me cover orbits and trajectories and stuff (M1 and M2 don’t get that far, but I need to understand the basics). To understand some of the mechanics I need other maths, called pure maths, which doesn’t have anything necessarily to do with mechanics but you use it as a sort of way to describe things - my English teacher pointed out that it’s like I can only enjoy poetry if I can already read. So I’ve done quite a bit of P1 as well (that’s the first pure maths module).

I am using some software called Derive to help me with understanding the maths I am doing. There’s a lot of other software as well and none of it would be so exciting without the models which they let you build to try things out.

I’ve done a little bit of calculus with my maths teacher and my uncle. Calculus is when you imagine very small bits of a problem so you can get your head round it, then imagine that small bit happening over and over again, forever, to make it back into the big problem again but now you understand it. I haven’t explained that very well, but it’s important and it works. Its how you can start with the velocity of something, and the gravity of a star pulling it, and see where it will go, or the other way round.

By September I think I will have finished all three AS modules. My uncle says I could take the AS exam, even though I won’t have done my GCSE yet. But that would totally blow my cover and everyone would think I was a geek. My teacher says he’ll see if I can take it somewhere else that nobody knows me. I don’t know. I’ll see.

Doing all this other stuff has made me better in ordinary school maths and science too. I used to be rubbish at algebra, but now it seems easy. I know now that when you do experiments you do them lots of times and then look at all the results, not just one, and now the handling data part of maths makes sense too (but I don’t want to do the S1 statistics module cos that looks really scary).

My maths teacher has set up some experiments for me, like rolling a marble across a rubber sheet on a frame. You can poke your finger into the rubber, or put a lead weight on it, and pretend the dent is a gravity well and see what happens when the marble (which is supposed to be a lump of rock in space) passes near it at different speeds. And we tried firing an air gun through an egg in front of a video camera to see what might happen when the white dwarf goes through the G type star in Polaris, which is a physical model instead of the mathematical models which you do with pen and paper or with software.

I’ve started to think about what I want to do in my life. I am still most interested in literature and drama but I’m interested in other things too. I’ve been doing paintings and models from the shapes that all the trajectory models make, and imagined using them for stage sets - weird or what? I just tell my friends they’re abstracts. Because of these novels by Jack McDevitt I’ve got really into history as well, and I’ve seen the same sort of graph shapes in history books as in mechanics, like the way population grows looks like the way a rocket’s height changes as it takes off.

It would be nice to do everything, but I’m not sure you can. People seem to do one thing or the other. Mr Grant who organises this site and asked me to write about this stuff says he did literature as well as maths and sciences when he did his A levels but he’s quite old and I think things have changed since his day. He says that people who write books like Sunstorm and Seeker need to understand the maths and science as well as being able to write, and Jack McDevitt must understand history too, and I suppose that’s true. But A levels are a long way yet. I don’t even start my GCSE subjects until September.

Well, that’s a little bit about Polaris and quite a lot about what’s happened to me since I read Sunstorm. I hope it wasn’t too boring. And I hope nobody I know ever realises who I am.

[contributed by Lakshmi]

McDevitt, J., A talent for war. 1989, Sphere. 0747403333.
McDevitt, J., Polaris. 2004, New York, Ace Books. 0441012027.
McDevitt, J., Seeker. 2005, New York, Ace Books. 0441013295.
Clarke, A.C. and Baxter, S. Sunstorm: A time odyssey. 2006, London, Gollancz. 0575078014

It’s the perennial cry of every class, and educationally it pays dividends, but mathematics students tend to lose out to more field based subjects like Biology, Geography, Environmental Studies and English literature.

Where can a maths class go, that is both useful and enjoyable?

Today I spent the afternoon and evening with a mathematics lecturer Ivor McGillivray, a film team, a group of students studying maths at GCSE level and A-level, two laptops and an electronic theodolite, at Stonehenge - the megalithic ruin on Salisbury Plain in south western England. The focus was the history of sun and moon in mathematics, and practical activity was central.

It was an eye opening trip, inspirational and remarkably successful in pedagogic terms.

It’s not my story, so I won’t go into detail now, but I hope to persuade Ivor to write an article for us.

Photographs at left (click them for a larger view) show, from top…

• Calculating the height of a standing stone.

• Cross checking measurements for accuracy.

• Setting up the theodolite.

• Relaxing between tasks.

[Contributed by Felix Grant]