Master of Answers Anonymous

My dad taught me my first science lesson. He knew it did not have to start at school, but rather the minute a mind starts asking questions. That is what science has always consisted of—a curiosity forming into a question and a question being resolved through investigation.

A lone black leathered seat merely attached by two metal chains became the strong foundation of the grand relationship between my dad and I. It was always the swing on the left. I tended to believe it was faster somehow (this was before I knew any physics of course), but besides my obscure knowledge, my dad always accomplished the promise of saving it for me. Not a day failed that right after school I would take on a nice thirty-minute ride with the companionship of the wind and creaking chains into the sky. The best part of all was having the reassurance of my father pushing me forward.

Once the suffice amount of trust was created however, I began to learn that I can propel myself forward. Up…down…up…down. A constant motion. No pauses and no breaks. Almost balanced and perfect, the swing never failed to go too high or too low. Always impressed by its perfection, I had to resolve my question of how is it that my puny four-foot-something self was able to...