Michael Friis Johansen

The stars my destination

by MICHAEL FRIIS JOHANSEN

 

     When you go, don’t let me know.

     Mothers are usually pleased when one of their sons — especially one with a poor record of holding down or even wanting a full-time job — tells them he’s planning to apply for a prestigious position with an important national organization.
     Not my mother. The first she heard of it was the last she wanted to hear. It wasn’t my intention that concerned her, it was the job I wanted. She wouldn’t worry about me leaving the world of freelance writing, but she didn’t want me leaving the world altogether. A few months ago I learned the Canadian Space Agency was looking for two new astronauts and I wanted to be one of them.
     This wasn’t the first time I’ve planned to go into space. I grew up during the second half of the Soviet-American race to the stars. The U.S.S.R. had already launched the first artificial satellite into orbit and the U.S.A. was going full-bore to be the first country on the moon. At the time television was filled with scenes of death and destruction from the Vietnam War, but all I remember watching, besides several popular science fiction serials, were the live broadcasts of the Apollo missions culminating in the first moon landing. I, and no doubt millions of other children around the world, wanted to grow up to be Neil Armstrong — to stand where he stood, to be where I could look up and see the Earth in the sky above me
     Part of the blame for this ambition lies with the TV series Star Trek, but its challenge “ To boldly go where no man has gone before” was hardly needed by a boy who already had a deep longing to travel. The Earth was a huge and wonderful place and I wanted to see all of it, but I knew it was only a tiny speck in an immense universe and I wanted to see all of that, too. If Star Trek taught anything it was that while dangers await humanity beyond the confines of our atmosphere, we stand to learn things of incredible beauty and fascination when we venture out.
     As it turned out my early career plans were in vain. I soon learned, somewhat erroneously, that to become an astronaut one had to join the American Air Force. As a Canadian and being something of a pacifist, this did not seem to be a path I should follow, so I let my dreams of the stars remain dreams — until this year. After I heard the Canadian Space Agency announce it would begin accepting online applications towards the end of May I waited weeks in hopeful impatience for the necessary web pages to open up.
     Alas, I was destined for disappointment again. It seems the agency only wants to send useful people into orbit. I wasn’t even permitted to see the actual application form, having been winnowed out of the process at the first step when I indicated I had no kind of university science or medical degree. I’m disappointed, yes, but I understand fully. If an emergency happens on the way to the International Space Station they’ll want someone along who can help solve it, not just write about it afterwards.
     My failure to go into outer space this time will likely give some relief to my mother, so I’ll try not to let her know I haven’t given up hope. Maybe in the future the Canadian Space Agency will decide to take useless civilians up and I’ll have my chance, or maybe one of the many private engineering teams vying for the orbital or lunar X-prize will set up shop at the underused air base in Labrador and I can hitch a ride when they launch, or perhaps one day I will become filthy rich and be able to buy a million-dollar ticket on a Russian rocket.
     Dangerous and expensive it may be, but space flight is worth all the money and risk, since its primary goal and proven benefit is to extend scientific knowledge and broaden the human experience. It also gives boys and girls reason to dream. If the billions of dollars that are dedicated to war were diverted to the exploration of the cosmos, perhaps children today would see fewer scenes of death in their streets and on television and more images of men and women doing brave and noble things. Which memories will give them better hope for the future?