The New Space Age
There are some people that come into your lives, and in that instant, you know you are changed forever. Now imagine 38.
In my first few months of college, I learned about the Brooke Owens Fellowship, a program that provides executive mentorship, a meaningful internship, and a strong community. The intense application asked, in various ways, why I wanted to be in the aerospace industry. I didn’t apply — I didn’t know my answer.
After freshman year, marked with brutal realizations about the industry, I was jaded and frustrated. I recounted how exhausting gender discrimination was, how unfair that I had to bear the emotional labor of interacting with patronizing men. I was angry. Angry at an institution that allowed this to happen, angry at my peers for alienating me, angry at myself for choosing a wrong path. I was seconds away from dropping the Aerospace Engineering major before my friend jumped from the bed and shut my computer.
I was paralyzed by the need to do everything at once. I wanted to change the culture, to set myself up for success, and I desperately needed to secure an internship offer. When I set out to answer the question, “In what ways do you want to make the aerospace community better for others?”, I was writing a letter to myself. With that first draft of my BOF essay, I was putting my promise to myself into words. Without these words, I would have given up, and I had to do everything to stop myself from giving up. So I tried to convince myself of a better future, starting by recounting my past.
From writing about my early childhood fascinations with Mars to vocalizing the struggles with finding my place in a male-dominated field, these 1000 words became my catharsis. I had to write down my story so I could understand where to go. When I was close to giving up, I would read my essay, to read the words I had written for myself. It was my statement that anything was possible.
The other pieces of my application stemmed from my belief that my personal identity shouldn’t be separated from my engineering one. I filmed a makeup tutorial that used products like “Confidence” and “Passion” to explain my values. I recorded an audio file of me reading a letter to my sister, ten years in the future, in Mandarin. In every single piece of the application, I was giving my soul to the fellowship. I have never wanted anything more — the opportunity for my career to grow, and more importantly, a sisterhood that I craved.
I doubted myself. Every step of the way. As the semi-finalist and finalist emails came through, I was becoming more anxious about the eventual gut-wrenching “We’re sorry” email because the committee would realize that I was lesser than this picture I had painted of myself. What would it mean to fail at something I had put my whole person into? There were so many nights that I spent crying on my dorm room rug, heart aching for the inevitable news that I would not be allowed to go on in this process. So many tears shed for those what if’s I feared: This is the best I have, but what if they don’t like it? What if I’m just not good enough? What if I never belonged in this industry?
The moment I got the phone call from Cassie felt like destiny.
I thought my life would change as soon as I hung up the phone. In some ways, it did, but I was still terrified. Imposter syndrome is a powerful demon, and when the founder of one of the most prestigious fellowships calls to congratulate me on my new job at SpaceX, I was more anxious than excited. SpaceX had been my dream since I entered the aerospace community. Where do I go from here?
A new life, a new job, and the addicting feeling of being anonymous in one of the fastest cities in the world. It seemed like I was living the life that people write about in songs. “What if I’m not good enough?” played over and over in my head as I prepared to move my life to LA for three months. I’ve always been taught to take the opportunities that make me feel scared and excited at the same time, but this time around, I was more scared than anything. So much was riding on the line — my future, the fellowship, and the overwhelming desire to prove everyone who ever doubted me wrong.
At SpaceX, I truly believe that I overcame one of my biggest fears of letting others down. I learned to trust myself more, to ask for help, to tackle problems one at a time. I learned so much about myself, and the growth was visible from day one. I was becoming a different person by the week, becoming someone whom I’d always wanted to be. SpaceX had given me a beautiful gift, which was the opportunity to manifest my dreams of space exploration and becoming my truest self, at the same time.
When the Brookies all arrived in DC for the Summit, it was akin to seeing old friends for the first time in years, though we had never met each other before. There was a soft familiarity amongst everyone, and immediately, it felt like family. Throughout these four days, we were vulnerable to each other. We shared our anger for the system, each relating deeply to stories of gender discrimination. We validated and reaffirmed each other, both professionally and personally. I was pulled aside to be told that I was loved, celebrated, and believed in. Someone told me that they would follow me to the ends of the universe. I was shocked by the amount of trust these women had in me, and the confidence I had in them. In that moment, I understood sisterhood more deeply than I had ever before. Our genuine love and connection with each other will be more powerful than any force in the world, and definitely more than enough to shake up one of the most historically male-dominated fields.
In Lori’s office, as she was vividly recounting the stories of her time as the Deputy Administrator of NASA, I had an indescribable feeling. It was the realization that she, too, had this incredible journey that we were only beginning to set foot on. If there was one word to describe this week, it would be humanizing. The gravity-defying realization that everyone around you, even those who seemed so untouchable because of their accomplishments, were just humans who had fears and attachments and stories to tell. In that intimate moment, as I watched Lori’s eyes light up, describing a moment with President Obama captured in a still photograph, I felt like I understood. We seek to tell our stories, to connect with one another, to build a future together. We were surrounded by these incredible veterans of our field who overcame some of these same obstacles that they’re now helping us overcome. It was the grown-ups in the same room as those still growing. I think what is so beautiful about growing up is the manifestation of security, of self-worth, of walking this timeline together. No one knows what will happen in the future, and it is entirely within our hands. This was the most powerful realization the summit had bestowed on me.
Dawn Brooke Owens gave the world something beautiful. Everyone who knew her described her as this passionate, loving, ethereal soul, who could not have accomplished everything she wanted to do with all the time in the world. I think for a lot of us, being compared to her is one of the most powerful compliments. Being a “Brookie” and thus carrying her legacy means more to me than words can describe. I wear the Brooke Owens wings on my necklace on days that I feel too tired from life. It reminds me to love, to be gracious, to be kind, to be curious, to be accepting, to own my space, to give the world everything I have to offer and in turn take up everything the world can offer me. Finally, after this 6-month journey, I am realizing it was just the beginning. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I will make my mark. These words I write now become my promise to the universe — I will uplift others, fiercely fight for what is right, and never stop my work to build a better world.
Heidegger, a German philosopher, described truth as an unveiling, an opening of the curtains. In these moments throughout the last three months, I saw truth unveil itself before me. In just those few moments, I felt present, alive, and I caught a glimpse of the incredible future that holds for humankind, although not that path we need to take to get there. The most wonderful thing about our time here is that there’s no telling what the future can become. With these women, I start to see how beautiful our future together can be. This family inspires me to be a better person, both to others and to myself. Thank you for everything you have given me.
TA&B
