Opinion: Remembering Christa McAuliffe

Published: 1/28/2023 6:00:20 AM

Modified: 1/28/2023 6:00:05 AM

Brinkley Brown of Concord is a Peace Corps Volunteer currently serving as an English teacher in Rwanda.

Thirty-seven years ago today, Concord High teacher Christa McAuliffe was killed on her way to becoming the first American civilian in space.

Moments after lift-off, the NASA space shuttle carrying McAuliffe and six others exploded over Cape Canaveral, Florida. The explosion killed everyone on board and shook the world long after the last of the debris had sunk to the ocean floor.

I never had the chance to meet Christa, but her legacy has shaped my life in many ways.

For one, I grew up going to the McAuliffe-Shepard Discovery Center, a science center dedicated to Christa and fellow New Hampshirite Alan Shepard, the first American astronaut in space. On rainy days, I would often go there with my dad. Our favorite part of the center was the planetarium.

We loved learning about faraway galaxies and constellations while being spun around the night sky. As a small kid, there was something terrifyingly alluring about learning that Concord wasn’t the entire world, let alone the entire universe.

I am also a graduate of Concord High School. While I missed Christa by a little over twenty-five years, her words continue to ring throughout the school: “I touch the future, I teach.”

Christa’s love of learning and spirit of exploration have traversed the decades, giving generations of teachers and students the unspoken permission to ask big questions, seek big answers, and pursue big goals.

When I graduated from Concord High in 2017, Judge Steven McAuliffe, Christa’s husband, was the keynote speaker. He spoke about the importance of striving for fairness and truth, and how truth can be different to different people based on lived experience. For this reason, he challenged us to chase new experiences with courage and empathy. He then called us to pass on our experiences and knowledge through education. This, Judge McAuliffe said, is the gift that keeps on giving.

I write this reflection on the eve of the 1986 Challenger explosion from a small village in the mountains of western Rwanda, where I am a teacher and Peace Corps volunteer.

A few weeks ago, I was walking home one night with a colleague, her husband, and their five-year-old son. There is almost no light pollution here, so the sky was clear and the stars were shining. In a jumble of Kinyarwanda (the local language), English, and hand motions, I pointed out Orion’s Belt and said that those three stars make up the belt of a hunter named Orion.

Yves, their young son who is learning English, was following along as best he could. Looking up at his dad, he asked a question. His dad, fluent in English, translated Yves’ question for me: “Pa, are those lamps in the sky?”

It’s powerful and humbling to learn about planets and stars, and that we’re just a minuscule part of the universe. Equally so, it’s powerful and humbling to travel to other countries and see that Concord is just one small place in the world.

I often think about Christa and others who’ve touched my life and made me the person I am today. I thank them for expanding my world, showing me what’s out there, and encouraging me to touch the future through teaching.