Since I didn’t grow up to become an astronaut, I became an astronaut teacher.
At age 42, I wrote and self-published an “astronaut instruction manual”—for 8-to-12 year olds who want to grow up to live, work & play in space. Now at age 49, I’m an astronaut teacher. With a new edition coming out and future astronauts lining up, my book needs artwork. Interested?
When I wrote Mike Mongo’s Astronaut Instruction Manual for Pre-Teens, or HUMANNAIRES!, the idea was simple.
At age 42, I had three epiphanies—almost in a row.
The first was that I was I had become a grown-up. That in itself was news. Up until then, I prided myself on having one of the longest, most successful (ie fun) adolescences in the world.
The second epiphany came from realizing that I had successfully checked off every single occupation from my career ‘bucket list’:
- professional student (13 years of college & university)
- x-sport athlete (skateboarding, snowboarding, surfing, bouldering),
- soldier (Army),
- rockstar (DJ Unimportant),
- blogger (howtorockstar.com),
- circus performer (Lewis & Clark Circus)
- newspaper publisher (Upwith Herald née Charleston City Paper),
- magazine publisher (Hip-Hop Verses The World),
- game designer (X-Men: Children of the Atom (dialog w/ Mark T Sneed); NBA Slam ‘N’ Jam ‘95 (manual)),
- published author (academic)
- candidate for political office (mayor of Key West)
- and even successful artist (co-founder OBEY).
In fact, what I was left doing after doing nearly everything else I had ever wanted to do—that which led me to realize I had become a grown up—was being sort of perpetually on vacation in the Florida Keys. Daily, I would go out with students and parents (and non-parents) to snorkel and play in the Florida National Marine Wildlife Preserve aboard a Key West eco-tour charter boat called DANGER.
Yet with all of these careers under my belt, and while fully “living the dream” from a lot of other people’s perspective (living on my own 65-ft Morgan sailboat off-shore Key West, no mortgage, no hassles, no worries) I suddenly became fully aware I had one last objective left fully unaccomplished on my career bucket list, and it was something more grand than all the others combined:
I still had not become an Astronaut.
Being in my adult 40's and bereft of traditional training in ‘astronauting’, a gnawing realization had come to take form in the metaphysical mind of my inner 11-year old.
“We’re not going to get to be an astronaut, are we?” my inner 11-year old metaphysically queried.
Honestly owning the answer to that question, the answer was tough: No.
Too tough. Seeing as I had already gone after and achieved every other career I had ever seriously considered, and yet had the entire rest of my life left to live out, I had no choice but to put my head to this predicament.
I was not without purpose. By going out daily out on the water with by young student to instruct on snorkeling, sailing, and marine science, I learned the joy of contributing. Most of all I loved how every so often a young person would have an experience which happened inside theirself in a manner that was so inspiring to them as to literally change them inwardly and as a person.
(Two additional things worth inserting here. The first is that I self-identify as writer. As I see it, there are two types of people: People who write, and writers. I fall squarely into the latter camp. And the second is that if I had come to appreciate an actual life calling it is teaching. Also, I’m big into listing things off.)
Imagine seeing something wonderful that changed the way you see the world for the better for the rest of your life. When I shared in this very thing happening for others, it is what I found myself describing as “having a transformative moment”.
Whatever part of the experience got them so sprung and so happy, it was clear that they had made up their minds in some way it was what they were going to be doing the rest of their lives and everyone of us around them were facilitators and sharers in this knowledge.
Pristine environment filled with amazing life and mind-blowing processes (ie the wonders of nature and science) have an extraordinary capacity to inspire. Once you seen the effect of someone beholding a sea hare or rescuing a loggerhead turtle or spending time with a pod of dolphins, you cannot help but realize how awesome and potentially life-affirming such moments are.
In contemplating my own predicament of 1. being a full-grown adult and 2. not being an astronaut (while at the same time acknowledging that a. I am a writer and b. how inspired I was by facilitating leading students to discoveries of insight about themselves and their own life goals) quite immediately I had a genuine flash of inspiration, the third epiphany:
I would become an astronaut teacher!
‘Astronaut teacher’ would combine everything which inspired me fantastically together into a brand-new role, a role I could shape and model myself after for (potential) future astronauts.
The time was right. The buzzword then (and more so now and still more yet to come) was “New Space”, meaning how space exploration was becoming commercialized. Commercialized meant future jobs for future astronauts, and I saw how we are going to need people to fill space jobs meant now was the right time to step up to fill the roll of astronaut teacher
And knowing how impassioned I am about space and everything I put my mind to, no doubt one of my future charges may indeed become a famous commercial spaceship crew or captain, and would remember their astronaut teacher so this insuring I get a ride to space too!
With all of the above in mind, I wrote and self-published (via Lulu.com) Mike Mongo’s Astronaut Instruction Manual for Pre-Teens, or HUMANNAIRES!*
Then, I went to work astronaut teaching.
For the past seven years, through a combination of bootstrap audience-building, science messaging and research, and speaking in front of classrooms of students in the US and abroad, I have dedicated the better part of my day towards becoming the best astronaut teacher I can be.
Early on, I remembered how it was when I was 10-11 that I started thinking of myself becoming an astronaut. Jump forward to when I worked in the marine refuge aboard DANGER, I noticed it was similarly aged students who were likely to have a genuine aha! moment fostered as it were by first-hand experiences with science and nature.
Studying this, I learned that between ages 8-12 is when in the development process human beings begin to see ourselves in roles and careers. (See Gottfredson’s Theory of Circumscription, Compromise, and Self-Creation—nailed that one!) Between ages 8-12 is when we start to picture ourselves and see ourselves in roles and careers!
Yet students of all ages responded to encouragement to pursue space careers. By making myself available as a space education resource, I now address pre-schoolers, high schoolers, and even college students.
Subsequently, my role as astronaut teacher became a hit—and not only with my intended audience but with other grown-ups, as well.
Besides being asked to join and coming on board space science advocacy organization Icarus Interstellar as part of the core team (an honor which has enabled me to make friends with Dr Harold “Sonny” White and Dr Rachel Armstrong, not mention become email buddies with Vint Cerf), it has got to the point where I now regularly speak before scientists, researchers, and educators at conferences on how they can be astronaut teachers. My take on astronaut teaching is we all have the potential—and responsibility—to be astronaut teachers.
I do now see teaching young students about the opportunities of space exploration as a responsibility. Here’s why.
As these things tend to go, an amazing thing happened along the way my not being an astronaut and my becoming an astronaut teacher. In studying space and science and space exploration—and, by extension, human history and the sociological impact as well the occurrence and the nature of scientific breakthrough—I realized something extraordinary.
Going to space, I mean really going upwards and outwards to so-called outer space, to live, work, and play, as well as the doing of what it takes to get up there and stay up there, is going to save planet earth and free us all from the shackles of unsustainability.
The science, the lessons, the experiences, the materials, the resources, the technology, the spirit, and the very process it takes to accomplish living, working, and playing in space in turn will result in everything we need being manifested in order to make earth sustainably good for everyone and everything.
In other words, we are going to save the world but in order to do so we have got to leave it.
Which begs the question: How do we get humankind to space?
The answer is: Using the same method we used to build the pyramids, the cathedrals, and nearly every modern wonder of the world.
We proselytize. We evangelize. We convert.
For the past seven years, in speaking before individuals, small groups, classrooms, large groups, and conferences, my practice has been to reach, connect with, and inspire people individually. What I work to do is to convert individuals to the cause of space migration.
And when it comes to space exploration and being receptive to the idea of migrating to space, it just so happens that the most receptive and thoughtful group of people in the world happens to be 8-12 years old.
So now, after earning my stripes as an astronaut teacher for the past 7 years, I can safely say there are 100os of young students, and more every year, who are waiting to get their hands on an astronaut instruction manual. So what’s the hold-up?
It’s me. There are a couple of solid reasons I waited to take HUMANNAIRES! Mike Mongo’s Astronaut Instruction Manual to the next level, and beyond self-publishing.
For one, I wanted to keep my stuff. The publishing industry is second only to the music industry in terms of gross excesses which punitively punish the artist while benefiting the companies. The idea of giving up the better part of the rights and profits from my own work was unacceptable to me. Self-publishing allowed me to coast along until the right opportunity materialized.
The other hold-up has been equally significant. No ifs, ands, or buts, an Astronaut Instruction Manual for Pre-Teens has just got to have great art direction! 8-12 years of age is at that stage where you don’t want picture books anymore but you are not wholly ready to make that leap into the YA-style, no-pictures kind-of book fully, either. Thus, art that inspires.
But with a rapidly developing audience of science-minded future astronauts, something had to give.
Reality is a funny thing. As if on cue, this spring, HUMANNAIRES! Mike Mongo’s Astronaut Instruction Manual was selected by writing-and-publishing crowdfunding site inkshares.com. (Shout-out to William Gibson for the heads up.) Inkshares has been making news for the success of its selected works which have been successfully funded; recently, an inkshares campaign success became the cover story off well-regarded print magazine, The Atlantic.
Inkshares is a great new expression of the new model. Writers deliver work and audiences—crowdfunded writing gets published—while keeping a fairer share of earnings, and all the rights to their work. If authors want to move on, that is completely acceptable, also.
Inkshares’ Thad Woodman and I have worked together for several months readying my campaign. We are ready to go. The only thing missing is artwork and art direction.
As an artist myself, I could—and feet-draggingly may—illustrate my own book. At this time, however, I don’t have the time, something is on the stove, that’s my bus, I’ve got a plane to catch, etc. When it comes to illustrating my own book, I have all the excuses in the world at the ready.
For a simple reason too: I want to work with someone who is as geeked on art and illustrating as I am on writing and presenting. Someone who is really, really into AWESOME. Like FAKE GRIMLOCK—for kids.
Which is why I wrote this essay. It’s a pitch. It’s my pitch. Here goes.
Are you a brilliant artist who:
- a. is a good human who is cool with students,
- b. geeks on the idea of space exploration, and
- c. can imagine being part of something fun and world-changing?
If so, drop me a tweet @mikemongo or an email to mike at mikemongo.com. Because I am looking for someone just like that!
A beautiful saying attributed to anthropologist Margret Mead goes something like, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”
That said, the way I have come to see this idea is the same yet different, and goes like this:
“Never doubt that a thoughtful group of small, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever will.”
Let’s change the world. One thoughtful, small, committed citizen at a time.
UPDATE 4.21.14:
WOWOW and WOW!! As a direct consequence of this piece, HUMANNAIRES! Mike Mongo’s Astronaut Instruction Manual for Pre-Teens is now to feature illustrations by none other than FAKEGRIMLOCK! #w00t
You can support HUMANNAIRES! here. Thank you to everyone who read about HUMANNAIRES! and have helped to move this forward. As always, keep up the good work.
UPDATE 10.20.14
WE GOT FUNDED. Talk about WOWOW! And the name of my book has changed. It is now titled The Astronaut Instruction Manual for Pre-Teens. You can buy it on Inkshares.com.
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* “Humannaire” is the name I gave to the next-generation of astronauts, the space explorers who actually move to space. The name is inspired by the name legionnaire. It rhymes with “human rare”.
[Thank you, Leonie.]
