The Museum of Science in Boston

My review

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The Museum of Science in Boston¹ has many good qualities: it boasts fascinating exhibits, is indoors, and is both stroller and handicapped friendly. The facility is clean, well-managed, and staffed by friendly volunteers. There's parking, and most exhibits are translated into Spanish. We visited it recently with the kids, Seth and Abel.² You remember, the cute little computer gamers.

Our kids love learning about anything, not just computer games.³ Seth recently picked up the phrase "slow and steady wins the race," and now he applies it to everything. For example, he gets dressed slowly because he wants to ‘win the race’.

Me: What race?

Seth: I am winning it! And THEY are losing it! BUSTED!

(Seth says “busted!” whenever he feels like he has won an argument.)⁴

At the museum, there is a temporary exhibit called "Survival of the Slowest," and, as you can imagine, Seth was very excited to see it. To his delight, the exhibit also featured snakes. Seth eagerly explored the exhibit, wanting to learn everything about the creatures that, in his mind, were winning the race. Particularly snakes.

Good Snakekeeping

They never have the snakes we want to see. Part of the problem is that I bought a book called "Good Snakekeeping" from a thrift shop. We don't own any snakes, but my kids insist on reading it, so now I know all about proper snake care. The author seems disturbingly obsessed with snakes.

So my kids were thrilled to hear there would be snakes at the museum. However, all they had was a ball python. Despite my husband jokingly pointing out that it could be called a basketball, baseball, or football python, the kids remained adamant—they really wanted to see an anaconda.

We asked a museum staffer, who said that the closest thing to an anaconda in the museum was a boa named Andy. This did not make my kids happy.

So I reminded everyone that we can't control other people's feelings. We can only control our own feelings. We can't make each other happy; we can only make ourselves happy. This philosophical insight did not make anyone happy.

The Serpent In The Glass

The experience at the Museum of Science sometimes reminds me of the Garden of Eden. Like the biblical Garden of Eden, there was a tempting snake behind a glass enclosure, clearly marked with "Do Not Tap On Glass." Although the kids weren’t tapping on the glass, they were definitely touching it. See my child's fingers in this picture for evidence.

The Biblical Garden of Eden had a similar rule. G-d instructed Adam to tell Eve that they could EAT from anything in the Garden of Eden, except for the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Doing so would lead to their death.

Adam told Eve that G-d said not to touch it. This was wrong. The evil serpent asked Eve if G-d had forbidden them from eating from the Tree of Knowledge. Eve said G-d said they couldn't eat or even touch it without dying. The serpent pushed her, she touched the fruit and was unharmed. This led her to eventually eat it and share it with Adam.

My kids played the role of Eve, and the museum staffers were Adam. We were all punished.

• The museum staffers were punished by having to spend their time at the museum scolding small children instead of educating people.

• The children were punished by not being able to touch anything.

• I was punished by enduring judgmental looks from others for my poorly behaved children.

• The snake was punished by losing the ability to talk, losing its hands and legs, and ending up in science museums, where it spends all day crawling on its belly, listening to kids being scolded for touching the glass.

And my kids weren't even tapping it; they were merely touching it. For them, this represents a huge improvement from a few years ago when we began visiting the Museum of Science more frequently.

History: The Anxiety Inducing Deadly Global Pandemic

A few years ago, a deadly anxiety-inducing pandemic was spreading globally.⁵ From my perspective, I had several small children, one of whom didn’t sleep. I was too sleep-deprived to form reliable memories, but I remember something about masks, hand washing, and plexiglass barriers everywhere. You might recall it too; it was kind of a big deal.

Even back then, the museum staffers did an excellent job protecting the exhibits from my children. Wherever we went, a museum staffer was always happy to helpfully show us where the "no climbing" signs were located. They were everywhere my kids might want to climb. The museum people seemed to be on never-ending plexiglass patrol. Personally, I felt like I never wanted to go to the science museum again.

But our kids love learning about science, and my husband has an impressive amount of intestinal fortitude when it comes to taking them out in public. I personally blame the patriarchy because when my husband takes the kids out, he seems to get more leeway from people. They are nicer to him, probably because they feel bad for a guy managing the kids alone. Meanwhile, I walk around feeling like a failure, convinced that everyone is silently criticizing me for not being firm and consistent enough. I know this isn't true, but it's hard to shake the feeling.

The Bird Exhibit

I like to blame the museum for the chaos. They don't know how to make an exhibit both fun and accessible. Take, for example, the bird exhibit.

We never get into trouble at the bird exhibit. That's because the hundreds of stuffed birds are all displayed on shelves, covered with plexiglass. Nearby, there are a few rocks that you're actually allowed to climb, making this my personal favorite exhibit for sitting down and writing long posts like this.

At this exhibit, the kids curiously ask us what the birds are. We never know. That's because there are no labels. The birds look interesting, and some are ones I've seen before, and I would love to know their names. We even paid for tickets to learn about things like that at this museum.

Why don’t they have labels? The exhibit says there are no labels because birds in the wild don't have labels. Whoever designed this exhibit wants us to have a "real-life" experience. You know, like in real life when 100 different species of birds are always sitting around on shelves in the middle of the forest, with a computer conveniently located nearby to look up their numbers and find out if they’re endangered or not? Just like that.

Forgive me for criticizing, but this strikes me as incredibly stupid, dumb, evil, and bad. Worst of all, it's counterproductive. Don’t you want me to keep my toddlers from climbing on the plexiglass? I can't spend an hour playing bird bingo while my kids turn the exhibit into a jungle gym!

Translations and Random Observations

All my posts are translated into Spanish because my nanny’s mother, a very religious Catholic woman, enjoys reading my writing and only speaks Spanish. I've never mentioned my nanny before, even though I owe her a lot. Rosie has been with our family for more than six years. She's a grandmother several times over and taught me Spanish. I love learning languages, and now I'm learning Arabic.

Spanish speakers should be extra careful at the museum, which seems less concerned about their well-being. I came to this conclusion after using the translations to practice my Spanish. Apparently, if you only speak Spanish, and you are visiting the Museum of Science, they want you to understand the exhibits but not which one is the freight elevator or what to do in case of fire.

I found this a bit disturbing It's like they think Spanish speakers should learn about science, but should not be prepared if there's an emergency. So, if you only speak Spanish, consider bringing a bilingual friend, or at least a map and some survival gear.

On a different note, our three-year-old daughter is very friendly. Maybe she is a little too friendly and will grow up to do things like asking people on the street if they know who Nebuchadnezzar is. That would be terrible.

She is also very active, going over to random strangers and asking them questions about the exhibits, as if she knows them. It's funny to see their reactions. "What fish is it?" she'll ask, and a random Asian guy will look confused and mutter something before she runs off.

I personally think they should ignore her entirely. But she's cute.

So, I'm not sure how many stars to give the museum on my Google review. What do you think?

1. Mos.org

2. Seth and Abel are a composite of my children, for ease of writing.

3.

4. He picked this up from his friends at school.

5. If you haven't heard about the coronavirus, you can Google it.