There’s a “ghost” on the loose in the Lab, but it could be anyone. What will it take to reveal their identity?
I arrived on Tuesday, August 31st at 1:00pm for the start of what would be the last week of Urban STEAM summer camp, a ten-week program for K-5 students. Urban STEAM Lab is a small community project with two Brooklyn-based locations, and provides the younger community with an opportunity to explore their STEM interests in hands-on activities.
My volunteer position as a staff member for the USL summer camp lasted four hours a day on Tuesdays and Thursdays each week, and had me advise the campers on projects centered around civil engineering, environmental science, acoustics, biology, and more. But this week, with forensic science as the primary topic, was different.
Across the room, the whiteboard stood in front of the class reading “Suspect List.” On it were several of the campers themselves, who claimed that they were the ghost despite having little evidence to confirm this; certain staff members, who were deemed suspect given their access to administrative materials and ability to stay after hours; the cats, who were there to keep mice away but were too young to know the difference between a toy and a stack of office paper; and even the bearded dragon, Mango, who supposedly held a grudge against humanity for being imprisoned in his cage and sought revenge in the form of passive disobedience.
The mystery was born out of an unusual recording supposedly produced by Alexia, the founder of Urban STEAM Lab, after the 5th Avenue location had closed. In the video, Alexia hears a strange noise at the end of the dimly lit hallway leading to the bathroom; when the camera turns towards her, she hears a voice, gasps, and the camera goes black. She later informs the class that an unknown force is messing with the equipment at USL–which ranges from freely accessible craft supplies to more advanced electronic devices–and that it is up to the class to discover the culprit.
There was never a dull moment during the case. The investigators seized every opportunity to search for clues–letter patterns in the ghost’s name, audio and visual messages, etc.–that would help rule out the suspects that didn’t match the identification criteria. At the end of the day, they would compile what they had found into elaborate and extensively decorated investigation reports that logged any and all information that was uncovered, including notable quotes that were said throughout the day, and the fingerprint and handwriting patterns of all campers and staff.
Of course, most of the clues were planted by the staff away from the detectives’ prying eyes–I even flashed the lights once or twice when they tried talking out loud to the ghost–but when it came time to compile a list of suspects, the staff were by no means ruled out. Suspicions were derived both from evidence-based inferences, like voice quality matching that of the voice heard in the video, to ones derived from logic and reasoning, like willingness to accuse others and relentless insistence of innocence.
We finished the day’s work on Tuesday, and I returned on Thursday. All the same campers had returned, but they arrived with a brand new prime suspect: me.
“Why do you think I’m the ghost?” I asked the class when I heard the news.
“Because it’s always the one you’d least expect!” they replied.
“Why am I the one you least expect?”
They didn’t directly respond to this question. Instead, they remarked on my appearance: “Your hands are behind your back, and you’re smiling! And you have a stain on your shirt!” (The “stain” was actually an embroidered American Eagle logo.)
Their confidence in my responsibility grew when an audio message directly from the ghost gave instructions to leave a gift of its favorite novelty, slime, within the next 45 minutes to receive the next clue. The message was clearly a digital spoken feedback transcription, but they mistook it for my relatively low voice.
With a vote of 8 out of 14, I was placed at the top of the suspect list. This majority would grow to as much as 13 out of 14 when an impromptu vote was held during lunchtime.
While I’m sure their suspicions hadn’t completely dissipated by that afternoon, their open wariness of me apparently had: after overseeing a bracket-style Twister tournament and being singled out and enlisted by one of the budding young engineers, Teddy, to build a multi-story birdhouse out of 100+ popsicle sticks and hot glue, I was fairly confident that I had regained their trust. As the last of the campers trickled out, I stayed behind to assist with the cleanup for that day and left later that evening, concluding my summer at Urban STEAM Lab.
I learned that Erika, the co-director of the 5th Avenue location and organizer of the investigation, had been uncovered as the culprit the following day (I suppose the group was correct in their intuition that “it’s always the one you least suspect”) and order had been restored thanks to the cunning and adept problem-solving of the USL summer camp. Reflecting on the experience now, it was a tremendous privilege to volunteer as a counselor over the summer: not only did it strengthen my communication skills (especially around younger audiences) but it provided a sense of fulfillment in my mission to bring STEM outreach to the younger world.