Musings of a Migrant Science Teacher

It's taken me a while to write this post. Mostly because I've been so busy, but also because I've needed some time to process things. This month has been my busiest ever - I'm actually a bit shocked I survived. I feel a bit like I'm recovering from PTSD. The 16 hour days, the constant pressure every waking moment, the night terrors, day terrors, paper cuts, dreaded delays, and waves of emails: all threatening my sanity.

This launch was the hardest thing I've done in quite a long time, and I poured my heart out into every bit of my role. I hope it showed.

Ugh, so many thoughts... How do you explain the feeling of a once-in-a-lifetime moment? Or sad happiness? Fulfillment and trepidation all rolled into one? I have to at least try...

Our team has worked towards this day for years, with much of the action happening in the few months before launch when things finally seemed to be "really happening." We'd been pushed and delayed nearly two years due to some problem or another. It didn't feel real till I was booking my plane tickets to Florida. February would be it. We finally had a window to aim for. Arriving in Florida for launch was strange, knowing that plans had been set in motion, and all that was left to do was ride the train till it's last stop. I can't tell you how proud I felt walking around Kennedy Space Center and seeing SDO banners and signs, hearing announcements and seeing our lanyards and tshirts on countless staff and volunteers. I felt small and important all at the same time. Seeing people from our teams in California and Colorado and Maryland - all here for one purpose - was inspiring.

Two days before launch we met our Twitter Correspondents. People who had flown/driven in from all over the country especially for this event. Our hope had been to invite a few people to share in our experience and then pass it on to others. What happened was so much more - I'm at a loss for words. We started off the three-day launch event as strangers, followers online brought together by nerdiness and adventure. We left as friends - a community of people tied by experience, hope, photographs, drinks and conversation. Seeing their excitement renewed my own, and refreshed my appreciation for the awesome job I have. Sometimes standing on the inside, you see the guts and dirty bits so much you forget what those come together to form. While NASA isn't always shiny clean, it stands for dreams and I'm lucky to have a small part in it.

On launch day (1st and 2nd) we tweeted and talked excitedly on the stands, all holding our mobile devices, wirelessly touching thousands. After looking at some of the feedback collected, I can say there were over 1500 students watching with us that day, as far as Romania and as close as down the road at Jetty Park. I never thought it would reach this far, but it did. My biggest goal for my job, my measure of success, has been to be a support and resource for classroom teachers. To make their thankless job easier and give them whatever help I could. Seeing comments come in thanking us for helping them engage their students, seeing the photos of students excited about space, their imaginations soaring with our rocket... makes everything worth it.

I positioned my video camera on the fence overlooking the launch pad and hit record at T-2 minutes. I didn't want to be holding anything or worrying about cameras when liftoff happened. I just wanted to enjoy it, to let it wash over me. And wash it did.

Watching it go was like watching a dream become a reality. Like seeing a child you've invested in succeed. My work is just beginning, getting the new science into classrooms comes next. But this job isn't my career. I miss teaching, and it won't be long till I'm back in the classroom. This was the closest I'd ever get to a NASA mission, my peak into the inside, my baby, my once-in-a-lifetime moment, shooting off into a rainbowed sky... I stood and watched with my hands to my lips, trying to stop the flood I knew would come anyway. The bittersweetness of the moment was overwhelming.

If you were there you know I  cried like a baby, (a hungry, angry baby,) a stark change from my usual bouncing up and down. With the tears came the release of all the worry and stress. There were hugs all around and promises of libation and tex-mex for lunch. After sharing such an emotionally charged event with so many great people, it was hard to say goodbye. We'd come so far since day one, and it showed in the smiles and goofyness of the informal "interviews." Leaving Kennedy that day I felt like I was leaving something more than just a Tweetup...

While our production may not have been the grandest, our rocket unmanned, and our budget small, we shared our hearts. Thank you for being a part of our once-in-a-lifetime moment.