I'm very appreciative of the experiences that Maker Lab 1 and our instructors provided. The collective experience definitely pulled me way out of my comfort zone, as pretty much everything that I faced and did was unlike anything that I had ever done before. But as I also mentioned, in an in-class reflection, I was surprised at how energized I felt. I had started my path here feeling completely exhausted already, and I couldn't fathom feeling as awakened as I felt after the first few days of our intensive course. But I did, and although my mind and body felt the effects of our time crunch, it was also with a sense of vitality that I don't think I would have developed on my own during this period of time. I look forward to future Maker Labs!
In our first class, we used Inkscape to create sticker designs. I chose to design a fun and smiley mitochondria. Mitochondria is known as the powerhouse of our cells, and the kawaii appearance is a reflection to the simple and fresh approach that I take towards science and teaching.
Once my "Mighty Mitochondria" took shape on screen, I connected it to the classroom's Cricut, printed it out onto sticker paper. I then fed it into the Cricut and watched as the machine scanned the printout before it sliced the image out of the sticker paper. I then peeled it off and stuck it onto the front of my journal. Each student in our class has a journal, with their own sticker art, to record their notes and reflections.
In our second class, I worked out creating a stencil. I created a cat silhouette. At first, I intended for this cat to have visible eyes, nose and ears. But considering that I'd be spraypainting over the loose pieces (like eyes and ears), this would likely be messy. I gravitated towards the cleaner look without those details.
I used a combination of black and blue spray paint (mostly black), and although it bled a bit, I'm happy with how it came out on the back cover of my journal. I realized that the randomness and unexpectedness that art creation brings can be amazing.
For our next project, we worked on creating NYC collages. I didn't know where to start because I had too many thoughts and ideas, and not enough time to think things through or experiment. I decided to use a variety of NYC images or its urban elements (such as buildings and maps), and balanced it with some natural elements (such as eggs and leaves). I started out being too nature-heavy, with more greens than NYC elements.
(I love this tape. I wish that I used more of it.)
I eventually focused more on NYC elements, with touches of natural ones. As a meditative person, I aspired to weave some nature as a means of showing an appreciation of stopping to pause and reflect, amid the busyness and constant wave of city life and energy.
At the end of class, we all presented and explained our collages and online portfolios to each other. It was interesting to see how my classmates expressed themselves, what they chose in order to do so, and what their underlying thoughts and intentions were. It brought depth to the way that we already perceived each other, too.
Lesson plan:
On our fourth day of class, we started to work on lesson plans. I chose to form a lesson plan about photosynthesis. I almost completed it all during the class, and we all went around the room to share our plan. It was interesting to see the many topics that everyone chose, as nobody selected the same ones, and I enjoyed hearing their different approaches. It's still a work in progress, but here is a small snapshot of my plan in progress.
Click here for the full file of my lesson plan.
After Maker Lab, most of our class headed up for a field trip at Morningside Park, as part of our Urban Education plans that day. Along the way, I saw some amazing pieces of art.
(Left) The sculptures were located near our entrance into Morningside Park (Manhattan Ave and 116th st).
(Right) This was an interesting sculpture of a bear pursuing a person who held a pan flute, but the whole structure also served as a water fountain (right and below).
Sanctioned Art: I saw a beautiful piece of sanctioned art that was in the B train going uptown that afternoon (around 12:50pm on 6/25/26). This work, "Under the Underground" by Nancy Blum, was commissioned by the MTA Arts & Design. It features a few iconic New York trees, and creates a visual metaphor of how the subway lines are, like roots of trees, lifelines. There's movement that happen beneath the surface, and that perhaps humans and nature share similar patterns of connection. I was curious about the stars in the background, and I interpreted this as a means of shining, or lighting the way, whether in nature or in the subway lines. It's interesting that the subway system (a human-made network) and forests (natural networks) are blended together in this work, but I feel that this shows what they have in common, such as collective movement and balance. Upon research of how this work was created, I learned that ink, colored pencil, goache and graphite were used to create this.
To the left is my rough sketch of "Under the Underground" in pencil. It's very basic, but I tried to capture enough of the general elements of the original art, of the solid trees, their roots running as subway lines, the stars in the background.
And below is the actual work that caught my eye on the B train:
Sanctioned Art: On that same B train going uptown, (sometime between 12:50pm and 1:00pm) that day, I caught a glimpse of a fun and beautiful work of art that extended from the subway platform floor, and up the walls. This was at the 79th Street station, and as the Museum of Natural History is very close by, the art (of a whale's tail and its body outline kind of submerged into "water" (the floor tiles) stood out very nicely and appropriately. It created an illusion of depth, with how the tail seems to sink into the platform, and also giving off the sense of the whale diving into the tiled "ocean" of the subway. It was an exciting and refreshing sight; I saw this at the very last moment, just as the subway doors were about to close, so you'll see the subway doors in my picture of the whale.
As I learned, this commissioned and sanctioned work is called "Subway Whale" and it was created by Steve Tobin. It is part of the permanent collection of MTA Arts Design. Tobin designed it to evoke the marine life exhibits of the museum and to remind riders of the natural world that exists beyond the underground environment. The whale’s tail appears to emerge from the floor, as if diving into the tiled ocean of the subway. This work is one out of several on the platform. The whale is made of hand-cut glass and ceramic mosaic tiles.
To the left is my attempt to sketch what I had seen. From my perspective, the whale is kind of framed by the closing subway doors. I wish that I had seen this sooner, but I immediately knew tht I needed to photograph it.
And to the right is the actual picture that I took of "Subway Whale".
Unsanctioned art:
While walking through Elmhurst (in Queens), I passed through some residential blocks that had significant graffiti on the homes and buildings.
This particular collection of graffiti art caught my eye because it took up the corner of a fairly new building. I was drawn towards the metal shed here (which looks like a staircase, but I circled around it and concluded that it's an odd-shaped shed). I particularly noticed and liked how the pink heart, and its accompanying wavy lines, popped out in contrast to the mostly-black-and-white accumulation of tags.
My Journal Reflection
Through our intense course, I had taken notes in my journal. Some of my notes were ones that I had written prior to our classes, and these notes were based on the pre-readings that we had been assigned. It took me (and I think a few others) a couple of days before we caught onto how important and necessary it was to get used to journaling. Not just because we were told to, but because there are multiple benefits of writing. It's much more engaging and organic, I feel, to get back to hand-writing. It is admittedly easy for us to plug away at our keyboards and record notes many times faster than handwritten notes, but I also see how much more of ourselves become involved with the momentum. It also ignites a side of creativity that we don't use if we're typing; seeing our handwriting, making choices about how to write, what to emphasize, what words we would put down, how we can improve our actual handwriting. I realized how my current handwriting had deteriorated from the days (years and years ago) when I was complimented for having attractive writing while I was in high school.
You'll see that my journal entries may be difficult to read; I had lost the ability to jot my thoughts down quickly and nicely (at least, according to what I know that I'm capable of). I often think that cursive writing is a lost art. But I'm starting to think that hand-written notes, reports, letters or cards are on track to becoming a lost art, too. So journaling activity, while practiced by many people, isn't quite what it used to be, and I see value in bringing myself back to the days of writing in a diary or journal, or to send thank-you notes, or to even create a written shopping list. Any of these can be meditative acts, and ones that also prompt a creativity and set of thought processes that may be completely missed otherwise.
This journal entry contains some notes about our "Picking Up the Broom" reading. This piece was straightforward in calling out (what I think of as) a more passive type of instruction that is directed towards low income students of color. What seems to be busy and productive work to these students is actually underlined by low expectations and drills that don't raise any bars or help students aim higher for themselves. It called out this "pedagogy of poverty", but also counters it with the solution of critical thinking, and for some systems and teachers to shrug off their checked-out, presumptuous stances.
This is another journal entry that reflected a reading that I had resonated with. "Standardized Curriculum and Loss of Creativity" points out a fixation with clinging to curriculum standards, to the point where there's little to no room for creativity and critical thinking. This resonates with me because if one spends too much of their time and energy on an academic treadmill that they aren't allowed to jump off yet, that's time and energy that could've been used towards individuality and creativity. I agree that teachers need to have room to help inspire curiosity and sparks within their students. This reminds me of a high school whom I had interviewed with; they had told me that I don't need to worry about creating lesson plans, scaffolding or even building a rapport with the students. And that I would just "need to deliver" the content. Needless to say, that was a red flag. And when I read this piece, as well as similar ones once I started at Adelphi, the insistence for greater creativity and freedom made even more sense.
Living Geographies Panel:
I worked with Maria and Jessica in creating a "Taste of NYC" panel. We intended to create a subway path (though this ended up being just a path, as it didn't resemble a realistic subway line) that led to a point in each of the boroughs of New York City. It showcased a dish that reflected a culture that is more strongly found in that borough (though all cultures are everywhere in NYC, too), and a video clip would accompany the dishes and boroughs, describing the food, the cultures and history behind those cultures developed in the boroughs. In Staten Island, we focused on Sri Lankan cuisine and communities; in Brooklyn, we focused on Jamaican food and neighborhoods; in Queens, we focused on Asian food and communities; in Manhattan, we focused on Jewish food and neighborhoods; and in the Bronx, we focused on Italian food and communities.
We had a slow and rough start because we kept shifting ideas and approaches. We started on some efforts, but abandoned them if they weren't panning out well, or if they weren't time-efficient or practical.
Since our time was limited, we kept opting for whatever means would help us deliver the closest result that would make good use of our time and resources. This meant ditching pipe cleaners, sticker maps, hand-drawn ocean waves, and other ideas. It was a bit frustrating at certain points, but we kept pushing on.
Eventually, things started to fall into place. Jessica worked on printing and positioning the map and bluescale images, as well as some felt and printed script from our voiceovers (the printed script, with blue text on blue paper, was Eric's idea). I recorded some voiceovers and layered them with our videos (which were either street tours or food highlights), and I also worked with Maria in creating food images.
With Matt's help in guiding us to wire the project, and with his help entirely on coding and programming everything, the panel would light up a spot of light at each "stop" of our boroughs, and with the intention of the video and narratives playing, all with the push of a button.
To the right, is a full shot of our finished panel (thanks to Matt, who took this picture and posted it in our group chat)! Our group went through phases of being excited and motivated, to feeling discouraged and confused, to pulling together with determination to see this project through. We were satisfied with our end result!
I'm very appreciative of the experiences that this class and our instructors provided. It definitely pulled me way out of my comfort zone, as pretty much everything that I faced and did was unlike anything that I had ever done before. But as I also mentioned, in an in-class reflection, I was surprised at how energized I felt. I had started my path here feeling completely exhausted already, and I couldn't fathom feeling as awakened as I felt after the first few days of our intensive course. But I did, and although my mind and body felt the effects of our time crunch, it was also with a sense of vitality that I don't think I would have developed on my own during this period of time. I look forward to future Maker Labs!
When we returned to view and present our panel, we were so distracted by the many other people there, and by the food, that the only picture I was able to take was this photo, from outside of the lab. Our panel is at the far right, with a blue background.
Museum visits
Each of us were prompted to visit three museums, ensuring the one of them was a STEM museum, another one being an art museum, and another being of any kind. I also brought my daugher with me, as she is always excited to absorb art and culture. She was pleasantly surprised.
We first visited MoMa (Museum of Modern Art). I appreciated the Andy Warhol pieces (such as Campbell's Soup Cans and Gold Marilyn Monroe, left and right respectively, below). I’ve appreciated Warhol’s soup cans and Marilyns since I was in elementary school. Even then, the bold colors and repeated images felt magnetic. Now I understand how he turned everyday icons into something unforgettable, but the instinctive pull I felt as a child has never changed. I was happy to see these pieces here, and to talk about them to my daughter.
I was also pleasantly surprised by an activity called Wish Quilt: A Collective Activity. This was collective artwork in motion, calling for the community to honor the global history of quilt making. We were invited to make a quilt square to add to the community quilt; many other squares had already been collected and displayed, and the museum adds more community squares to the quilt each day. My daughter and I were excited to tap into some creativity, and to add to the project. The quilt squares were made of basic, colored felt shapes, which we each placed on an adhesive board.
I also appreciated this piece by Njideka Akunyili Crosby, called And We Begin to Let Go. At first, this seemed like a quiet mixed-media piece, but the longer that I looked at it, the more layers and history I began to see. I felt how, even though there are two people in this scene, there is also a loneliness, perhaps from the "letting go", like a shift has been taking place, or an in-between moment. This felt sad or bittersweet, with memories and history in perspective, but no longer being able to hang onto them as tightly as before.
Next, we visited MoMath (National Museum of Mathematics). The museum is in its third location since 2012, and settled into its current home this year (2026). This was a very interactive and interesting STEM museum that was incredibly family-friendly. There were hands-on exhibits that highlighted many applications of mathematics and science. I struggled with mind-bending puzzles, twirled on a top-shaped chair that made me think that I was going to topple over (yet I had to trust the science in keeping me balanced), played with shape boards, and so much more.
Also in MoMath was also a gallery of art by Michael Schultheis, who paints and sculpts stories about human relationships, while using math equations as models. I was amazed at how beautifully mathematics was blended with art, as I never would have imagined that the two could work so harmoniously together in creating stories, visions and beauty. Most of the work in this gallery were acrylic on canvas pieces, as well as some sculptures. Whether it was embodying the joy of discovering that math is everywhere and everything, or inviting us to reflect upon how multiple consciousnesses may overlap (like a Venn diagram), or celebrating human connectivity through the use of geometry, I was quite stunned by these pieces.
This is Waterlilies of Archimedes by Schultheis, and it is a dual homage of both Monet and Archimedes. It embodies the joy that mathematics is everywhere and everything. The flow was beautiful; the working-in of equations and numbers was very fluid and elegantly done, as they were really one with the movement, connection and beauty that this piece embodied.
Ceva Focus (above) is a bronze sculture that Schultheis created to depict human connection. Its interior loops depict two people who are reaching towards their Venn-like overlap of shared consciousness. The larger loops imply shared resonance that await us once we gain greater awareness of our relationships. I appreciated this work's simplicity, depth and boldness.
Below is Schultheis' A Galileo Repose. Acrylic on canvas, this painting is inspired by the movement of celestial bodies that had been observed by Galileo. There is an element of time in this piece, with how time passes and creates layers of experiences that form meaningful stories and pictures that are unique to each of us. As with some other paintings by Schultheis, one may not immediately see the mathematics that's been built in, especially from a distance. But when you look long and close enough, the mathematical details present themselves, as they've been there all that time, just like math is generally everywhere in general.
Last, we visited the Museum of Ice Cream. It’s a playful, hands‑on museum with bright installations and several stops for ice cream, making it a light, enjoyable visit. The museum had a consistent pink color running throughout its multiple floors, and offered fun visuals, facts and entertaining experiences that related to ice cream, sweets and/or dessert. There was also a spiral slide that brought us from the museum's top floor to its bottom one, where more desserts and exhibits (such as a pool of "sprinkles", a playground, and bagels with cream cheese ice cream awaited us.
(Left) Pink and yellow bananas dangled through one of the rooms.
(Right) realistic-looking desserts were displayed among several others in a dining room.
There were also some educational elements, beyond just the playful and light vibe that most of the exhibits conveyed. Below, a timeline of ice cream spanned from 2000 BC, when ice houses started being used for cooling, through 1984, when the world's first national ice cream day was declared.
To the left, a variety of ice cream scoops over time were displayed, made from a variety of plastic and metals, and with various finishes and treatment.
To the right, a gold ice cream cone's description explained that because gold doesn't react with food, it won't change the flavor, and is therefore an ideal metal to use for ice cream spoons and scoops, which helps the true flavor be fully appreciated.