5th grade Archives - KS Mitchell

Project NASA: For the Benefit of All

Have you ever seen 55 5th graders dressed in identical blue rocket sweatshirts at an airport gate? You can imagine the excitement as we gathered at Gate 58 in Tulsa International Airport.

Many of my classmates had never been on a plane before so as we boarded and scrambled for seats, the kids buzzed with enthusiasm. We’d taken a family vacation to Disney World two years earlier, so I felt like somewhat of a pro with all that experience behind me. I settled into my seat and snapped the seat belt together with confidence. As we taxied for takeoff, the buzz increased to a rumble, like a space shuttle readying for liftoff. I looked around at the thrill on my classmates’ faces and smiled. After all our hard work, our 5th grade trip to NASA was about to begin.

After landing in Houston, we went directly to Johnson Space Center. Exploring the museums at NASA was a dream come true. I’d been interested in space flight since the Challenger exploded in 1986. It was the first time I grasped the danger of space travel. I still remember seeing the tears in Mr. Beltzner’s eyes that day. He wouldn’t be my teacher for another three years, but the impact the disaster had on him affected me as well. So touring the museum and NASA’s mission control room was amazing and emotional.

We looked at models of the Lunar Module and I tried to imagine what it was like to land on the moon. We ate space ice cream and wandered around the Rocket Park. The sheer size of the rockets boggled my mind. Did astronauts really strap themselves into tiny cockpits and ride atop these monstrous machines into space? And yes, I did walk away wanting to become an astronaut.

The day wasn’t over once we left NASA. We took the Bolivar Ferry out to Bolivar Point and back again. Then we checked into our hotels and had a small party celebrating our first day in Houston. Lindsay and I roomed with our music teacher, which seemed strange in that weird way all kids feel when they encounter teachers outside the classroom. Our dad watched over three of our most adventurous 5th grade boys. We wondered if he would make it through the night.

He did and the next morning the entire class took a walk on the beach. The seagulls swooped down on us and we shrieked and ran up and down the wet sand on a cold and windy day, happy to be alive and in this special place. Jason asked me to go steady with him on that beach. At eleven, this was, of course, a serious offer. I immediately said yes. We continued to hang out as much as we had before. But it made the weekend feel all the more special.

On Galveston, my dad paid for a trolley ride for all the kids in our designated group. I still remember the slack jawed amazement of the other kids as we shouted at them from the trolley while they stood on the sidewalk of the Strand and watched us cruise by.

A reporter from the Sapulpa Daily Herald traveled with us and recorded the trip in pictures and words. I’m grateful for our teachers’ foresight in this. It chronicled our journey from the beginning, and all of that fundraising, to the magnificent end. The trip was an eye-opening opportunity for 55 fifth graders from a small town, and I’ll never forget the weekend we all spent together.

But I’m even more grateful for the entire process that trip took – from collecting cans, to cow pie poker, to planning and the culmination of all our efforts, the trip itself. It spurred on my interests in space and travel. It taught me you have to work hard to accomplish dreams, and that sometimes those dreams take some luck (thanks Pepsi Co), but that even that luck came through our hard work.

Taking a class of fifth graders to Houston for a weekend must have seemed an impossible feat to our teachers, but we were able to accomplish it together. And finally, that year taught me that when people believe in a vision, they unite behind it with excitement, energy and enthusiasm until it’s accomplished.

NASA’s motto is, “For the benefit of all.” In 1989, 55 5th graders lived out that motto, took flight, and saw an impossible dream come true.

Liberty5thgraders - Project NASA - kimberlymitchell.us — Liberty Elementary’s 5th Grade Class in Houston

Project NASA II

If you read Project NASA, you’ll remember my class trip to Houston was in jeopardy. We needed to raise more money and quickly or there would be no trip to NASA, mission control or the beach.

One morning the 5th grade teachers announced we were entering recycling contest sponsored by Pepsi. The class that collected the most cans would win a prize of $5,000. We doubled our efforts, searching on Saturdays after soccer games and Sunday afternoons. My older sister Jennifer took this opportunity to practice her driving skills. Lindsay and I readily volunteered to get out and walk. On Mondays, we hauled bags and cans to Liberty and the teachers, I’m sure, hauled bags and bags to Pepsi Co.

Liberty Elementary's 5th grade teachers, 1988-89. Back Row: Mr. Wolfe and Mr. Beltzner. Front Row: Mrs. Huddleston, Mrs. Rice, Mrs. Block — Liberty Elementary’s 5th grade teachers, 1988-89. Back Row: Mr. Wolfe and Mr. Beltzner. Front Row: Mrs. Huddleston, Mrs. Rice, Mrs. Block

One Friday morning, Dad dropped Lindsay, Natalie and I off outside the gym as usual. We went inside and quickly took our spots in our class’ lines. Each morning Mr. Long made announcements before dismissing each class.

Mr. Long told the school we had a special announcement that morning. Then music started to play and the 5th grade teachers danced out, each holding a poster board sign. When they turned the signs around, we gasped. Each sign held a number. 5-0-0-0. We’d done it! 5th grade had won the Pepsi Co contest and enough money for our trip to Houston!

We jumped up and down and screamed and for once, no teachers shushed us. They were as excited as us. From that moment in November, our efforts shifted from raising money, to planning the actual trip. The energy and excitement we had fueled our classroom lessons as we dove into research about NASA, the space race and Houston. For once, I couldn’t wait to get back to school after Christmas break. The weeks in January and February seemed to drag, even with some snow days mixed in. But finally February 18th arrived and our grand space odyssey began.

Project NASA

February 18, 1989 is a date set firmly in my mind. That was the day my entire 5th grade class boarded Southwest Airlines Flight 405 for Houston on our fifth grade trip to NASA.
At the beginning of that school year, our teachers announced their plans to take the entire class to Houston to tour Johnson Space Center and Mission Control. I sat in my seat, stunned by the news. My passion for space and everything connected to it was just beginning to take off. Would teachers really agree to take 55 fifth graders from Sapulpa to Houston for an entire weekend?

They might have been crazy, but our teachers were serious. The caveat? We had to raise the money for it first. We would do a series of fundraisers throughout the school year to help raise the money, but our focus would be on collecting aluminum cans.
So on many Sunday afternoons in the fall of 1988, Mom and Dad would drive the van Lindsay and I would scour the back roads of Sapulpa, Jenks, Bixby and Tulsa looking for the glint of sunlight on cans that meant a trip to see the rockets and Mission Control in NASA.

In the fall we held a Western night and cow pie bingo raffle to boost our efforts. I’d nev Spaghetti Dinner Sale Liberty 1989 er heard of cow pie bingo, but growing up in Oklahoma, things were done a little differently. First, a field is marked into squares, each square corresponding to a number. Next, a cow is brought in to peruse the field. Then nature takes its course and the square with the most patties in it is declared the winner.

While the cow took his time grazing the field, we ate spaghetti and had a Ma and Pa Kettle contest. I didn’t know who Ma and Pa Kettle were until my parents explained they were famous characters from a series of films made in the 1950s about a couple of country bumpkins and their adventures. I’m not sure which teacher invented this idea, but the parents found it delightful, and we were still young enough not to care about embarrassing photos that might catch up to you years later, or friends that might tease you for weeks on end about your attire.

My friend Jason Mead agreed to be Pa Kettle. Lindsay partnered with another boy, Devin, and two more friends, Cassie and Ryan, decided to enter the contest as well. We all dressed in our best imitations of hillbilly costumes. Jason and I took second and Lindsay and Devon third. Ryan and Cassie won the contest, but when KTUL News Channel 8, who were covering this important school event, asked Mr. Beltzner for a student to interview, he grabbed me and stuck me in front of the camera. So later that night I had the thrill of seeing myself on television, dressed as Ma Kettle, of course. Fortunately that video hasn’t seen the light of day since 1988!

Ma and Pat Kettle Contestants — Ma and Pa Kettle Contestants

After all that excitement, we trooped out to the softball field to see who the cow had chosen to win the raffle, but the cow hadn’t eaten chili that night and, though we carefully examined the entire field, a winning chip could not be found. Cow pie bingo was a bust. So we headed into the gym for a good old fashioned drawing. The winner? My younger sister. Natalie won a small TV and radio that, in 1988, was a pretty good prize. Cow patty bingo had been a success after all.

Our raffle and the cans collected that fall still didn’t raise enough to get us to Houston though. Soon after, we had a lecture from Mr. Beltzner, Mr. Wolfe, Mrs. Huddleston and Mrs. Block. If we wanted to go on the trip, we had to do more, and time was growing short. With the holidays approaching, the trip to Houston hung in jeopardy and my hopes of seeing NASA and Mission Control with it.

1988 Sure Was Great

I’d been waiting five years, half my life, to be a fifth grader at Liberty Elementary in Sapulpa, Oklahoma. Fifth graders ruled the roost and the playground, although certain fourth graders were allowed privileges, such as joining in the kickball games. I remember reaching fifth grade as the pinnacle of my early years, and indeed it was, as middle school would change so many things.

My older sister was a full five years ahead of Lindsay (my twin sister) and me in school. This meant she’d experienced the other teachers well in advance and was an invaluable source of information at the start of each school year. She knew which teachers were loved, hated or feared. She was as excited as Lindsay and I were when we found ourselves in Mr. Beltzner’s fifth grade class.

Jennifer had told us a lot of stories about Mr. Beltzner’s class as we rose through the ranks of the Liberty Eagles. By the time we reached his class, he seemed a living legend. Here was the teacher who held Pennsylvania Dutch day, emceed most school events, acted in local plays and singlehandedly started the Rocket Club, infusing a new generation with Space fever.

Mr. Beltzner turned 33 that year. As an eleven year old, this seemed a solid age for a teacher to be. Younger than my parents, but certainly much older than I could imagine being. On his birthday, Mr. B announced he was now the age Jesus Christ was when he died. I’d never heard a teacher say anything like that. It made such an impression on me that when I turned 33, I remember having the same thought, with the realization that 33 was nowhere near as old as I’d imagined it to be in 5th grade.

Mr. B was somewhat of a perfectionist. All his students carried spelling cards with them at all times. We added to this binder ring full of index cards every week, cycling through the growing pile, knowing any word could pop up on the weekly quiz. Although I already loved reading, it’s possible my love of words started here.

We memorized and recited poetry in front of the class. I remember muttering the words to Clement Clarke Moore’s ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas and Edgar A. Guest’s It Couldn’t Be Done over and over, performing them in front of my twin, my parents, the bathroom mirror. The day of recitations brought excitement and terror. What if I forgot a word, stuck, with all eyes on me and nothing in my brain? But there was nothing like finishing the last word of that poem and knowing I’d nailed it. To this day, speaking in front of a crowd doesn’t bother me.

Mr. Beltzner’s enthusiasm for learning swept through the class and caught all of us up in its fire. Reading and the Book It program, Facts Master, science and rocket building, all of these became more than school assignments. I’d always liked learning, but Mr. Beltzner’s class fired my imagination in ways no teacher had done before.

I felt I could learn anything I wanted to and become anything I wanted to be. I felt invincible that year, on top of the world, and higher, since we spent so much time learning about space.

I’ve been lucky to have other great teachers, but none stick in my mind in quite the same way. Whether it was the realization that life was soon to change and it was time to seize the day, the haze of nostalgia as I remember my 80s childhood, or Mr. B truly was as incredible a teacher as my memories say, I wouldn’t experience another year quite like this in my school career.