April 12th, 1961   

From the second my brain started running, I had no doubt that today would be the day for change. As hours passed by, a feeling that something undeterminable would happen arose in my mind. Although all of these chilling feelings that spread across me were unusual, it could have just been my natural response to the professor's constant shouts and scolding.   

Nearly three years ago, I joined NASA as an engineer specializing in mathematics and science, working with a group led by professor David Mclemore. In my opinion, he was a headstrong man who liked to make his life easier by commanding others, like me, to follow his instructions. Since then, every day, for me, had been a tedious cycle: work, scolding, work, scolding, sleep. Just because I was what the professor called "colored," I didn't even have what every American was guaranteed to have: liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Everyone says that America stands for freedom, but shouldn't I then get to express my own opinions without people stopping me? Was that because I did not belong in this society full of people who looked down on me because of my skin? However, I supposedly came and had a passport from the same country as them.

I was accepted into NASA, but not embraced and treated like others. My mind entertained ideas, one telling me to leave this place, but another saying to continue and wait for others to change their minds about me. Perhaps, it was my love for space, perhaps, it was my spirit to fight for my country, or, perhaps, the feeling of NASA needing me that made me decide to fight through all obstacles to get my voice heard. How could I feel so attracted to a community that didn’t even want or need me? After a long time, my vision started to blur, and I felt myself watching and beginning to dream...   

"10, 9, 8, 7, 6, Engine Start-up, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, lift-off!”   

"Today, a new moon is in the sky: a 23-inch metal sphere placed in orbit by a Russian rocket..."   

"Katie!" shouted the professor, "can you not hear me calling you?!" to relate to the atmosphere in the government-based organization I was working for. 

I could not help but murmur, “Professor, I know what has stalled our process, . The data was not accurate...”   

"Katie!" professor David Mclemore stopped me right away, with so much vividness in his voice that it made me tremble. My mind was full of pictures from the sweeping Soviet Mission – the decisive event that caused the United States to form  NASA. "I'll tell them to fire you if you keep on refusing to respond to my requests!"   

I tried to explain, "Professor, sorry about that. I was just trying to discuss what we could do to send men into space before the Soviets achieve the goal. Unfortunately, we can't withstand the Soviets taking another step ahead of us."   

From his expression, I instantly figured out that the professor did not want me to explain myself any further.   

"Katie, go get me a cup of coffee, clean the desks, and help me carry this stack of files to the physics department," the professor ordered me.    

I narrowed my eyes to the pile of random documents. Over the past few years, I had carried out almost any thinkable task under professor David's demands: cleaning tables, grabbing cups of coffee and water, and many more things never listed in my contract. After all, I was a full-time employee, not an intern. It couldn't get any worse. But, I thought, wasn't it hilarious that I was doing all this work, and I had not once protested about it? But reality had it that I was just different from others working here, and I was the one that needed to serve other people because I was a “nice lady.”

In front of me, rows of documents piled to the ceiling, like a mountain that rose every time one climbs a step. I knew that carrying the files would deplete a large portion of my work time, but an order was an order. Hence I had no other choice but to obey.    

Document by document, hour by hour, I finally finished my tedious work that could have been done by a cleaning staff tomorrow morning. Now that I thought back to my days, months, and even years working at NASA, my work time was always limited by tasks with little pertinence to rockets, rocket fuel, or sending men into space. I couldn't help but wonder, what was the professor's incentive to not have me work on such an important project and have me carry out pointless and vapid tasks? Was I too doubtful, or was I right about the professor not allowing me to spot the mistake in his calculation?   

“Put your attention on your work,” I kept reminding myself. My whole body acted impatiently as if a stampede of oxen were coming at me. I kept trying to calm myself down, but the more I tried to stop my trembling body, the more it acted as if someone was pushing me to find out the truth about Professor David Mclemore.   

Just as my eyes landed on the professor, I heard a voice behind me saying, “Are you okay?”. My body shook with fear, and my eyes bulged out, almost falling out of my eyelids. I hated to think that would be someone with a close relationship with Professor David, and I hoped for a miracle to happen, for all to be a figment of my imagination.   

I was wrong.   

I slowly turned my body around, head first, feet last, and stared straight into another pair of eyes.   

"Are you okay?" he asked again. The voice came out from a man I'd never met before, "I saw that you were trembling and acting weird, and I wanted to make sure you were okay."   

"Oh. I'm sorry. I'm as fine as anyone here!" the words blurted out of my mouth uncontrollably.   

He said, "Um...Miss, you're still shaking like you have something that you're worried about. Is there anything that I can do to help you?"   

I was confused; how could a man working here took precious minutes to care for a woman he hadn't even met before? At first, I didn't believe his sincere face and thought there must have been something he wanted from me. But from his comforting words, I chose to risk, believe him, and tell him my secret.   

I began to tell this man about my story, bit by bit, starting from the coincidental rendezvous with NASA, to my guess about the professor's secret of hiding a vital calculation error and my alternative plan that would make everything work. I told him how my ethnicity restricted me from running on the right track in the eyes of others and how I felt that something big would happen that struck me all day. Somehow, a mysterious wave spread across my brain, which automatically spurted words out of my mouth like a never-ending rain. After what seemed like hours, I finally ceased to speak and noticed that the man's eyes were filled with care of sympathy and encouragement, ready to spurt out at any time. He managed to hold his emotions, and asked me my name. He told me his was Daniel, and I told him mine: Katie.   

“Katie, you are a strong woman. I think you are brave enough to identify a real issue. Do not let any discrimination stop you from doing what is right.” Finally, Daniel comforted me and let me contemplate alone.   

As time began to tick away, I still pondered the strange feeling that spread across me from the start of the day. The more I wondered about it, the more I desired to know what had incited it. Then I heard the news reporter on the screen in front of me. The content came to me slowly, as though it did not want me to detect what was being said.  

«10, 9, 8, 7, 6, запуск двигателя, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, отрыв». 

I couldn’t believe it. That mustn't be true. My eyes looked as if they were burning with fear. All I could hear was the countdown repeating again and again. Everyone in the building had their eyes bulged out and stared at the news report. Everyone had to face the dark truth. The Soviet Union had just beaten the United States, again. And I had done nothing to stop them from winning.  

Shame spread across my body like an uncontrollable monster. Still, as a statue, I waited for fate to slash me into pieces.   

I quickly realized that what awaited me wasn’t fate, but my future.   

Mundane people compromise and stand still, letting their fate come and capture them. But I was not normal, and I would always take the step forward, no matter what obstacle lied in front. I should fulfil my destiny and save NASA’s mission.  

I swiftly opened my drawer, found a name card, and dialled the number written on it that I had never had the will to dial before.