Look to the Skies
I cannot remember a time when I haven’t looked at the moon. Earth’s moon captivated my imagination when I first saw it hanging in the black-blue sky. And the stars were so beautiful, less obvious, but beautiful all the same. Every time I have looked to the skies at night since, I have seen the moon. The moon captivates me. When my father first taught me about the moon landing, he didn’t tell me about the science, the hard work, and the almost disasters. He simply told me that men had stood on the moon and looked up at Earth. I knew I wanted to be there someday.
When I was ten, my parents took me to Kennedy Space Center. I looked at everything, read as much as I could, learned all I was capable of. Simulators terrified me, videos fascinated me, the launch pads awed me. What I really remember, what made me believe in my self-appointed mission was the Saturn V, the rocket that took man to the moon. It was bigger than anything I imagined, with its own building. The smooth metal rocket reminded me of the movies. But this was read life. I didn’t want to go to the moon anymore, I wanted to make find ways to send people there, and beyond. To make a new Saturn V. Human achievements inspired me to think about the world around me, around Earth. About space.
When I heard that people wanted to mine in space, I was horrified. I continue to be horrified. Humanity doesn’t do anything halfway. Once we start mining space, asteroids will be melted down whole and meteors will be brought to Earth in small chunks. Nothing will be safe. Planets will be strip mined, robbed of their beauty to fuel the never-ceasing machine of humanity. Companies are suggesting the destruction of the most beautiful natural space still untouched. Leave space alone, let it be. What right have we to its resources?
People will say that we are entitled because God gave us these resources, or because we are the only ones to use them. But I think it comes from evolution. Long ago, when homo sapiens sapiens was developing, there was a time that resources had to be hoarded to prevent death. This tendency to hold everything close to ourselves continues, even when it is not necessary. Humanity is taking resources just in case. Precautionary measures, stockpiling resources, hastens the destruction of the world. Mining space robs future generations of the beauty of the extraterrestrial, as well as the possibility of further learning. There are things that the planets around us might teach about the universe that we do not have the technology to access. The moon contains boundless lessons, but cannot look now. We must allow future generations the opportunity to learn about the world around them.
Scientists say we must take something; we must bring samples back to study. I agree. The study of the world around us is the one of the most sacred pursuits of humanity. Material from extraterrestrial bodies can, and will, expand our knowledge of the universe and our own planet. Science and exploration will necessarily mar space. Unavoidable in the quest for understanding. I object to the senseless destruction of natural phenomena to build taller buildings, larger cities and our already-too-inflated prestige. Ripping every last ounce of usable resources from every celestial body within reach will destroy the solar system. Not only will the beautiful sights be destroyed, but the destruction of even one planet could send us spiraling into the sun. Companies advocating mining in space forget that we don’t know what our actions could cause. A terrible shame for the Earth to fall into the Sun because of something so avoidable.
Look to the Earth. Look to what has been lost, what future generations will never see. North America’s forests fall to the ground, Africa’s lush grasslands turn to desert, Antarctica’s ice sheets melt into the ocean. Dodos are extinct and wild chicken grow rarer by the day. Pandas are dying and the wildlife that is marveled at in zoos is becoming scarcer and scarcer in the wild. Humanity is slowly killing the world, slowly bending it to our will. Nothing can live in such a poisonous environment. The Earth is dying because humans were unleashed upon it, and allowed to take whatever they could. Humanity allowed itself to destroy its home. This is the ultimate in self-destruction. I don’t want the stars to share the Earth’s fate.
When I have children, I want to take them outside and show them the moon. Another world where men have stood, women have stood, people have stood. To tell them that if they work, they can go to the Moon, look up and see me looking up at them. Unbearable, to tell a child of something so beautiful, so magical – the Moon – that they can no longer see. Inconceivable, for them to live on a lonely planet, circling a ball of fire, alone and abandoned. In an ideal world, unique, vivid planets dot the sky. Planets that inspire children, inspire everyone. I want to tell my children that I helped save the planets just for them, just so they could see how I became who I am.
A sky pierced, adorned with the lights that captivated my childhood. An imagination lit afire by that great white orb floating in an inky black sea. This is what I want for my children. Children who are inspired to be artists, to be writers, to be teachers, engineers, math professors, plumbers, anything. Because the moon inspires me every time I look at it. The moon inspires me to become what I know I am capable of, what I want to be, what I never knew I could be. Humanity needs children to be unique, wholly inspired by the world around them, by phenomena which transcend the human experience and approach the mythical. I want them to see the sky I see, the sky I believe in. I want to save the very stars.