Showing posts with label space science. Show all posts
Showing posts with label space science. Show all posts

Friday, November 16, 2018

Space Innovations & Parties in Atlanta

Just before the conference began.


Not many conference attendees understand and appreciate the months of preparation that goes into putting together a successful event. For the second year, a small group of dedicated Atlanta space professionals hosted a space conference, the Symposium on Space Innovations. We had a little more to work with this year after last year's first successful event, but we had ambitious goals: increasing from one day to two days, boosting the number of registrants, securing more sponsors, and booking higher profile speakers. And we did quite well! I'm uncertain what the final count was, but we had close to 200 attendees!

I'm a space loving extrovert. Surrounded by like-minded people doing great things, I feel alive and vibrant. Although most certainly not a morning person, I was happy to be there at Georgia Tech at 7 AM on Tuesday to set up and prepare for the event. My company Astralytical was again a sponsor but I opted not to have a booth, instead dedicating myself to social media, meet & greet, and after-party planning activities.

The top of the morning was a briefing by retired Admiral James Ellis, Chairman of the National Space Council Users' Advisory Group. I've been following the NSpC and UAG activities closely. It was a pleasure to meet Admiral Ellis in person, a great speaker who commanded the attention of the audience. We are all space users and he asked us all for input. The space policy geek that I am, I would love to be part of the NSpC in some capacity in the future.

During the morning parallel sessions, I chose the Space Science & Deep Space Missions track. The Lunar Exploration Advisory Group (LEAG) meeting was going on in Maryland, but we had our own lunar exploration discussions. It was fun to get an update from my graduate school labmate Addie on the latest activities and successes in my former university group. Dropping marbles into sand and floating around in microgravity – for science!

Our lunch speaker was former astronaut and current CEO of Ad Astra Rocket Company, Franklin Chang-Díaz. I had heard interviews with him and had the impression he was a good guy, and I was correct. He gave us an overview of the VASIMR engine and spoke a bit about his experience as a 7-time space flyer. His push is for humanity to become a multi-planet species. He sees the VASIMR engine as the diesel trucking solution of the future.

With astronaut Franklin Chang-Díaz

Following lunch, I was the moderator for the Rise of Commercial Space panel. This was my first time moderating a panel and I was quite excited about it. One of my panelist had fallen ill a couple days before and was unable to attend, but I made sure she was there in spirit. I kicked off the panel with one of my questions, then asked one of her's. The audience took over from there.

It was great fun when the discussion got heated over the debate about the usefulness of NASA's heavy-lift rocket, the Space Launch System (SLS). One of the panelists had quite a strong opinion on the subject, admittedly mirroring my own opinion, though I stayed neutral. I was pleased when an audience member jumped in without raising his hand, passionately expressing the opposing point of view. Our missing panelist would have made the same points, so again I felt she was there in spirit. It was an amicable debate cut too short because of time constraints.

I wrapped up the panel asking a surprise question: what were the panelists most excited about in 2019? Universally, all four of us are excited about human spaceflight, both SpaceX and Boeing's plans to launch astronauts next year through NASA's Commercial Crew Program and the efforts to return humans to the Moon.

Moderating the Rise of Commercial Space panel

I chose the Human Spaceflight track during the afternoon parallel session. I learned about putting humans in hibernation during long space missions and got an update from Northrop Grumman about former Orbital ATK's latest activities.

The talks wrapped up with four-time astronaut and current professor Stephen Robinson who gave an excellent presentation about space shuttle reentry thermodynamics and his role with the space shuttle tile gap filling after the Space Shuttle Columbia accident. I got to chat with him after his talk before he had to catch a flight home. I can't remember how the topic got brought up, but Stephen Robinson has the distinction of being the first person I've spoken with about my second book idea (which intimately involves astronauts). He was also the 50th astronaut I've ever met according to the list I've been keeping since high school.

Astronaut Stephen Robinson

The day was not done. We gathered elsewhere on the Georgia Tech campus to enjoy an evening reception: food and student posters. Mainly I chatted with a couple colleagues about space policy, travel, and science fiction before exhaustion from the day caught up with me.

We reconvened Wednesday morning with an opening talk by the Chief Technologist of the National Reconnaissance Office. He read from a script of prepared remarks with no slides, and I was told not to share anything on social media. Given how technical his talk was, slides would have been useful, but I understand his position. He then proceeded to dodge every question asked of him, including my question about collaborating with international allies. He didn't answer the questions but he was so skilled and smooth at not answering them.

The morning panel was about spaceports. Representatives from Georgia and Florida spaceports chatted together on the same panel, which makes sense given we're neighbors. I knew the Kennedy Space Center and Cecil Spaceport representatives from my days working in Florida, and the Camden representative is a colleague and former client of mine. The two emerging spaceports made good arguments about their benefits, including the ease of decision-making and operations. KSC/Cape Canaveral will always have a draw based on the existing infrastructure, expertise, and rich history.

During the morning parallel sessions, I chose the Space Resources & Materials track. My NASA Academy internship colleague Tracie gave an overview on her work about manufacturing in space on the International Space Station. I learned a bit more about the surface-bounded exosphere on the Moon and what it means for future lunar miners.

We ate lunch in the banquet hall and talked amongst ourselves. I sat with some ladies from Atlanta-based space company SpaceWorks and learned a bit more about their company culture. I also spent some time preparing for the next session.

I moderated the Next-Generation Launch & Propulsion Systems track after lunch. A really fun executive vice president from Rocket Lab gave an overview of their successful small launch company. Although I've never been there, I think Rocket Lab's spaceport in New Zealand is the most beautiful in the world. Unusual for a space conference, we had an 8-year-old boy attend and present a poster. This enthusiastic young student joined the speaker on stage and gave thumbs up throughout.

Moderating the Next-Generation Launch & Propulsion Systems track

A speaker from SpaceWorks gave an update about their company Generation Orbit and their suborbital vehicle X-60A. I am looking forward to seeing it fly in the next year or so.

In the final parallel session of the conference, I sat in on the Student Activities & Programs track. I recently attended an event hosted by two of the presenters so I was quite familiar with their work launching small sensors on weather balloons to teach students about building satellite payloads. I learned about the smallsat lab at nearby University of Georgia that I had no idea was so successful.

And finally, the moment I had been most excited about: the Georgia Space Alliance conference after-party Galactic Get-together. GSA began with the conference after-party last year and we're still in the process of building and growing. In the cold and rainy wind, I walked with two boxes to a nearby bar and restaurant that was closed for renovations. The owner was kind enough to open the venue just for us. As I struggled with the large GSA banner, helpers came in early to assist and we finally got it hanging. The personalized take-home GSA rocket name tags were a hit. Both conference attendees and local space enthusiasts mingled and relaxed with finger food, drinks, and space-themed napkins. I have plans to make the party even bigger next year!

We finally got the Georgia Space Alliance banner hung

Enjoying the GSA Galactic Get-together party

I'm so thankful for the efforts of my fellow conference organizing team members, especially Jud and Caleb. I'm looking forward to the third Symposium on Space Innovations next fall!

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

Made Speechless By The Sun



One coincidental benefit of moving to the northern Atlanta area last year was the relatively short distance needed to travel to the totality zone of the so-called Great American Eclipse of 2017. Some people planned their trip years in advance. I got in my car at 11 AM and drove 60 miles northeast to Helen, Georgia, known for its German Alpine design and atmosphere.

Hello Helen, Georgia! I parked temporarily to take this photo.


I had intended to leave a little earlier in the day. But life happens. Specifically, some wild animal was trapped in between our first floor and our basement ceiling and our cats were flipping out, so naturally I needed to investigate. Finally, I decided to let the cats sort it out and hit the road.

 


I had also intended to arrive in Helen in time for the start of the eclipse at around 1:00. However, I got hungry. We stopped for lunch just short of Helen. I allowed myself a, “That’s so cool!” moment when I peered at the Sun through my solar glasses in the parking lot before getting back in my car.

My daughter's cracker snack became a solar eclipse projector.


I had no specific destination in mind. Because the Sun was so high in the sky, any spot gave as good of a view as any other. But my 20-month-old daughter had taken a nap in the car and I wanted to give her space to run around. Thankfully, the town of Helen was crowded but not the park. I found a bench on the grass to set up my camera and take my initial telephoto shots. A fellow sky-watcher with a similar aged child commented how independent my Josephine is, entertaining herself with rocks. It’s a good thing, too, because I didn’t want to take my eyes off the sky for long.



Eventually Josephine noticed the narrow, shallow stream. For the next hour, nothing distracted her from the sheer joy of picking up river rocks and throwing them in the water. I relocated to the stream bank where I sat with my equipment, in disbelief of what I was seeing.



No photo I’ve taken or seen captured what I saw yesterday. It goes beyond imagery. The darkness, the senses, the emotions, all too complex to be summed up in a picture. I’ve never had an experience like that before. The total solar eclipse was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever witnessed.

Solar eclipse in the lens flare.


In the minutes before totality, it dawned (or dusked) on me that the darkness was descending as if it were sunset. So much about the atmosphere, except the position of the Sun in the sky, felt like dusk. I even had the instinctual maternal thought of, “My 20-month-old is too young to play in a stream in the dark!”



As for my eclipse watching partner, the Sun didn’t hold her interest at all, and she kept throwing rocks into the water as if nothing else in the world was more important. I even tried to guide her head upward during totality, but she fought me and won, returning to her water play.

As the tiniest slivers of light shined, dimmed, and disappeared, cheers erupted all around me. I didn’t expect this. I was not in a crowded place. But in the distance in every direction, shouts and claps echoed. Complete strangers, completely different people, all united as one to admire the beauty of our Solar System and our place in it. I couldn’t help but cheer as well.



I have degrees in astrophysics. I am a space professional. In the minutes of solar eclipse totality, all intellectual thoughts left me. No word left my lips other than “Wow” and “Oh my God.” I don’t know when I started crying, but water filled my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. I didn’t expect to cry. And I didn’t let tears stop me from continuing to stare in awe as our closest planetary neighbor blocked out the light of our closest star.

I still can't believe I took this shot without a tripod.


As the light returned, I felt as though I had taken part in something much greater than myself. In reality, I took no part in it at all. The motions of the Earth, Sun, and Moon are all set in predictable clockwork, and we humans just observe. But by gathering together for this single purpose, we were a movement of another kind. I had a huge smile on my face.

Post-totality smile!

We stayed a little while longer. I put the solar glasses on my face and leaned back on the stream bank, not caring about capturing photos or missing totality. Josephine kept playing with rocks and water as if nothing else was happening. Eventually I dragged her away and set off for home.

It took much longer to get back than it did to get there. The park road was at such a standstill, I put my car in park, opened my car door, and watched the eclipse on and off for another half an hour more. Eclipse traffic combined with commuter traffic to create a mess on the road to home. But it was worth it. Seeing a total solar eclipse was worth every minute I spent sitting in traffic while my daughter screamed.



I experienced the eclipse many times over since then, processing my own photos and browsing others’ postings. What strikes me is how much this astronomical alignment brought us all together: space enthusiasts and regular people, friends and strangers alike. People who otherwise wouldn't care about celestial objects were staring in wonder. The solar eclipse brought rare unity to our country, centered around the Sun and the Moon. Thank you all for sharing in the astro love!

Monday, August 7, 2017

Mission Failure


There are many topics on my backlog to blog about: fun space things I’ve seen, new space things I’ve accomplished, my plans for the future. But what’s on my mind today is a matter of heart: mistakes, scapegoating, and team discord.

Bullying, which causes psychological harm to children everywhere, also affects adults in the workplace. I was victim to a workplace bully in graduate school who harmed my perception of myself, slowed my research progress, and exasperated my sense of impostor syndrome in the laboratory that took me years to overcome.

Preparing for my first ZeroG Corporation parabolic microgravity flight in grad school was a joyful, if exhausting experience. Finally, I would be able to float in free-fall – just as astronauts do – even if for only 30 seconds at a time. And I would be accomplishing real science as I soared, science I needed for my PhD. I wanted to have a blast, but I also wanted the experiment to be a success.

Which makes the outcome of that experience all the more frustrating.

Each team member was trained to handle a specific role during the flight. We had four team members and four roles. All four tasks needed to be accomplished during each microgravity-creating parabola in order to make the experiment a success. We had four experiment boxes to run the experiment four times, but only one laptop and camera setup.

My task was to press a button at the right time to release an impactor (a marble) to shoot at a very slow speed into a container of sand (fake Moon or Mars dirt/regolith simulant). But I couldn’t do my job alone; I relied on another team member with a better viewing angle to tell me when to fire the trigger. Our jobs depended on each other. We all needed to work together.

The first two tries were a flop. The trigger didn’t fire. Something must have been loose in the wiring. The third try worked! But my team member got too excited and told me to press the trigger too early. We weren’t having the best luck with scientific research.

At this point, we were losing team members. Two of the team had tapped out by then, victim of the Vomit Comet. We prepared for that eventuality, although admittedly not well. Each member of the team had spent a few minutes in the lab learning all the other team member’s tasks in case we needed to take over for a sick teammate. Had we thought a bit more ahead of time, we would have realized a few minutes of training would not cut it in a high-pressure quick-paced floating environment where it was hard enough to control limbs, let alone the experiment. But at the time, I had no choice. I took over the camera operation as well as my triggering duties and hoped for the best.

The best is not what happened. I don’t know how, but instead of recording 30 seconds of data on our forth and final experiment attempt, the video recorded a fraction of a second that looped for 30 seconds. I had never seen that happen before and had no idea the software even had that feature. I wasn’t sure if it was something I had done wrong, something the previous camera operator had done wrong, or just a very odd glitch in the camera software. But I was the one who pressed the camera buttons, so I accepted blame.

Up until this point, my workplace bully (the lab manager) had no legitimate complaints against me. She was envious of my educational success beyond her own, frustrated she had no authority over me, and infuriated that she couldn’t get under my skin, at least not yet. But the camera failure gave her the perfect opportunity and she jumped on it. Despite the fact that three of the four experiments failed for other reasons and the forth failure may or may not have my fault, I became the scapegoat for the whole mission failure.

With my own admission of possible guilt and no useful data to show for the ZeroG flight, she successfully turned half the lab against me, impressionable undergraduates who depended on her opinion for a job and who she also bullied to a lesser degree. The lab was a dysfunctional mess and a toxic work environment. I accepted increased isolation in the lab for my own mental health, trying my best to avoid contact with her.

My biggest failing was to internalize her lies about me. I began to see my labwork and my aptitude as a scientist in a more negative light, wondering if I really was a failure. This doubt hindered my success for years.

My bully petitioned hard to prevent me from flying during our next parabolic flight opportunity, this time with NASA in Houston. But with multiple flights over multiple days, we needed a larger team of flyers. I did fly for one of those parabolic flights. This time, it was me who got sick halfway through the flight and had to pass off my job tasks to another team member. And this time around, despite the multiple flights, our experiment failed for other reasons. I could not be blamed.

Despite the research failures, the team disharmony, and the eventual vomiting, I did have a blast during those parabolic flights. They remain one of the most amazing experiences I’ve ever had. I would do it again in a heartbeat if given the opportunity.

Floating around in microgravity - Nov. 2011


When I read about today’s Rocket Lab test flight failure because someone on the ground forgot to tick a box in ground control software, I feel for that person. The weight of failure on his/her shoulders must be very heavy right now. It is my deepest hope that whoever was responsible for the software mistake which doomed the Rocket Lab launch feels supported by his/her team, not isolated or ostracized.

Poor coworkers might scapegoat an employee who makes a mistake. But in reality, mistakes like that don’t happen in isolation. A unified, well-working team would work together during preparation to ensure easy mistakes don’t happen, but when they do, they would band together to accept fault as a group and seek solutions for the future. Mission success depends on the efforts of all, working together for a common purpose, holding each other up, working past failures, and celebrating successes. Mission success depends on everyone.

Monday, February 27, 2017

My First Science Lab: Freedom, Confidence, & Proving Them Wrong



A week ago, the Astralytical space resources laboratory officially opened. My lab. This was an unexpectedly emotional moment for me. There were people in my life who planted the seed of doubt in my head. To prove them wrong about me was a moment of triumph that I celebrated as a small achievement in practice, but symbolically meant scaling my imposter syndrome mountain.

I ran a science lab periously, but it wasn't my lab. As a doctoral student in planetary sciences and my advisor's first grad student in this lab, I assisted him in getting the ball rolling and managing the undergraduate students. I gained experience running a science lab and conducting experiments. Even though I directed the day-to-day activities in the lab, I didn't direct the science. I wasn't in charge. Worse, I was bullied by a fellow lab manager, which added to the imposter syndrome mountain.

I've previously written about my decision to leave grad school all-but-dissertation (twice!), meaning I've twice taken all courses needed for a doctorate, passed major exams, and completed a substantial amount of new, independent research in high-energy astrophysics and experimental planetary science, but I left before completing and defending my dissertation. I've had academics as recently as a year ago tell me that I'd never be able to direct my own lab, apply for research funding, or become a principal investigator (PI) on a mission without the Doctor title.

Directing my own lab is the first step in proving to them that their academic path is not superior to my path and in fact my path is best for me. A well known flaw in academic advising is the bias professors have when guiding students in career planning. Academia was best for the academics, so they assume it's best for everyone. Academia has never been my goal from the start. In undergrad I decided to pave my own way, regardless of what others think. This professor who doesn't know me thinks I need his credentials in order to direct my own research? Watch me prove him wrong.

In 2015 and early 2016, I contributed to the beginnings of a research group focused on using fake Mars dirt (regolith) to grow plants, inspired by the story The Martian. I attended meetings and a workshop, contributing what little I could, but I could not get involved in the actual research. The group couldn't afford to pay for individuals outside of NASA KSC and the partnering university. I was told that they may get funds in time. So I waited and waited, delaying my own research with the hope of joining their group. The funds never arrived, at least not before I moved out of state.

Around that same time, I was collaborating with a former NASA colleague who had started his own business to mine and use space resources. He didn't want to get me involved until he had funding. He had planned to apply for NASA funding, but the call for proposals was repeatedly delayed. And so I waited and waited while my colleague was delayed in even applying for potential funds.

Waiting, waiting, waiting to work on others' research and not working on my own research.

The biggest piece of advice I'd give to my past student self would be: Don't wait to ask for permission. A consequence of our outdated educational system is the constant pressure to obey, conform, raise hands, ask permission, don't move forward until authority figures give the okay. That thinking held me back in undergrad and early grad school as I struggled to define who I was and who I wanted to become. I could have and perhaps should have gone farther, faster, if I had been empowered to move at my own pace in my own direction instead of waiting and seeking approval.

My first full-time career position was short-lived because of this constraining culture. As I quickly learned and excelled at my job, I felt the pull to learn and do more. I tried repeated to assist in other ways, collaborate in other departments, be innovative and self-starting. I asked permission, even gained it in some cases. But at every attempt to act, I was ignored, discouraged, even reprimanded. By the end, I was greatly underutilized, caged in my box, and disheartened. It's no surprised that when I finally gained freedom in my next position, I grew and soared.

That's what the Astralytical scientific and analysis work means to me: freedom. I no longer have to ask permission from anyone to pursue what's interesting and beneficial to me and to the space community I'm a part of. As recently as last month, a client tried to dictate what I can and can't do in my own business (unrelated to his business). I'm sorry, but it doesn't work that way. Not only can I run my own science lab, write my own industry reports, conduct my own research, dive into space policy initiatives, and assist various clientele, I no longer have to ask permission from anyone to do so. I'm free to be an American entrepreneur.

Of course, I have my husband to thank for supporting me in my endeavors. Without his encouragement and support, I couldn't have gotten Astralytical to where it is today.

Regolith - pretending I have dirt from another world.

Shifting gears, I'll give you an overview of what the modest Astralytical lab will focus on initially. I'm returning to my planetary science roots. My current research is a derivative of my doctoral research at UCF, but with added components that I didn't get a chance to study previously. I'm currently resource limited, so I don't have all the lab equipment that I'd like, but I'll build it up over time.

Regolith (dirt, dust, and soil) on other planetary bodies is different from regolith on our own planet Earth. But we can use Earth regolith to simulate what the surfaces of other worlds look like, move like, and contain. I'm using regolith simulants to explore the physics of other worlds without physically being there, focusing in particular in Earth's Moon, Mars, Martian moons, and asteroids. Additionally, I'm adding different amounts of water ice to the regolith, because the worlds I'm interested in are cold and contain trace amounts of water.

In-situ resource utilization (ISRU) means using the resources of a location instead of bringing resources to that location from elsewhere. It's widely believed that ISRU is the key to sustained exploration and settlement of space and other worlds. But ISRU has not been as widely studied as it needs to be in order to prepare us for a sustained space presence. My research studying icy regolith is a step in determining how we can use the dirt on other worlds to our benefit.

My lab is under Earth's gravity (1 g), but eventually I'd like to explore how the icy regolith acts in reduced gravity (analogous to Moon or Mars gravity) and microgravity (close to 0 g, analogous to space). I've flown two “zero G” parabolic flight campaigns and, when I was pregnant, I worked ground operations for a third. I'd love to fly my own experiment on a parabolic flight and perhaps even in low Earth orbit someday. If all goes well, I'll apply for funding to do so in the next couple of years.

The research possibilities ahead of me are endless, and even more inspiring to me because they are my possibilities. With my own research, I don't need to wait for or ask permission from another to do what interests me. I can even do something completely different without having to explain myself. I want to fly my own high-altitude balloon flight and carry a payload up to the stratosphere, but for what scientific reason, I'm not sure yet. I'll figure it out in time. I don't need to justify it to anyone (unless I apply for funding, of course). This is my research, my career, my life. Imposter syndrome, be gone.

Icy regolith up close.

Wednesday, July 6, 2016

New Jobs, New City, New Adventures!



I've been mum on my life's happenings recently. Now that it's all settled, I'm going to share with you what's going on. Comments and suggestions welcome!


STEM & Social Media Outreach

As someone guilty of taking on too much at once, I'm pleased to have I wrapped up two projects. At the start of June, my favorite conference returned from a three-year hiatus: the Next-generation Suborbital Researchers Conference. I ran social media for the conference activities. I wish it wasn't over because I had a blast, but I'll be back next year.

I spent some time assisting Benignant STEM Innovation Foundation, a nonprofit dedicated to educating students, especially girls, in developing countries and underserved areas. So inspirational! There are many potential opportunities for grants, fundraising, partnerships, collaborations, and projects for a new STEM nonprofit. The process can be daunting. I helped to point them on the right path.


Commercial Spaceflight Federation

I've been searching for a new space organization “home” for a few years now. When I attended the CSF spring members meeting last year, I felt it! But my former employer's membership dissolved along with its existence. I didn't let that stop me! I'm excited to be working with CSF again in whatever small ways I can. Right now I'm helping them identify sponsors and prepare for an upcoming FAA AST conference.

New Client

Starting Monday, I'll be an analyst for a new client. I love how global this company is, with colleagues around the world providing different perspectives. My first project will be a cool (and hot!) topic to start with! I'll write up a more detailed blog entry once I start work.

Science

One of my biggest professional mistakes this year has been relying on others to conduct science. As a result, I waited and waited, and still haven't gotten my hands dirty. Either projects were delayed or I simply wasn't included. This is a poor way to do science collaboration. I decided to take matters into my own hands. I finally allowed myself time to brainstorm science recently, and an idea came to me.

How I wish I could tell you about the proposal I'm writing via Astralytical! I read an article explaining that science bloggers are hesitant to write about their unpublished work because they fear being scooped. I can tell you that's true. It's related to my expertise in planetary regolith and it touches upon human space habitation in a way I haven't seen before. I still need to complete a literature review to put this experiment in context. I may reach out to potential collaborators, but on my own terms.

Book Writing

I wrapped up the millennial panel interview process last month! But Adventures in Book Writing is on hold for now because I'm crazy busy and there's no deadline. Sorry! I'll get back to it by the end of the summer for sure.

Ohio, Here I Come

Coincidentally, my husband has been going through a job search as well. He just accepted a position at JP Morgan Chase in Columbus, Ohio. I've never even been to Ohio, but I grew up in the Philadelphia area of Pennsylvania, so I'm familiar with four seasons. We'll be moving within the month.

This is so bittersweet for me. I love Florida! I love living in this area so much that I moved here for undergrad, moved away to Huntsville, then moved back. I love the warm weather and the lack of snow and “real” winters. I love the beach, the water, the greenery, and the wildlife. I love the rocket launches and the space happenings. I love my friends and close-by family. I love the space community I've built here. It's going to be very hard for me to leave!

Glenn Research Center is one of the few NASA centers I've never been to, and it's only two hours from Columbus. Ohio State University is gigantic and has not only a physics department, but also an astronomy department, a cosmology & astroparticle department, and a planetarium, so I may find like-minded researchers and enthusiasts there. Ohio Aerospace Institute seems to be a smaller equivalent to Space Florida. I'll find my space peeps in Ohio, somewhere.

Wednesday, June 29, 2016

Juno's Journey to Jupiter



Jupiter is the largest planet in our solar system and the planet most responsible for our current planetary orbits and orders. I once coded a model of our solar system that included and then removed Jupiter, and what a difference! Jupiter keeps everyone in line. My favorite feature of Jupiter is its colorful cloudy atmosphere with huge, long-lasting storms. Seven space missions over the course of 43 years thus far have contributed to our knowledge of this gas giant.

Nearly 5 years ago: August 3, 2011. I was on the guest list for the Juno launch to Jupiter on a ULA Atlas V rocket out of Cape Canaveral. As local planetary scientists and members of the American Astronomical Society's Division for Planetary Science, my graduate advisor Josh and I were invited to participate despite having no direct connection to the mission. I do love living in Florida!

The festivities began with an evening welcome reception. Visitors from all over joined in to mingle and feast. The next day, I enjoyed a tour of Kennedy Space Center. Even though I had toured KSC facilities before, it's always fun to see the new happenings!

The first stop was the International Space Station Processing Facility. It's a large high bay of ISS module pieces, similar to the ISS training mock-up displays that I once saw at Johnson Space Center, but larger. We saw one of the Italian Multi-Purpose Logistics Modules named Raffaello, a docking hub, and a payload canister the same size as the space shuttle payload bay. There was also an early mock-up of the Boeing crew capsule, the CST-100 Starliner.


Raffaello - August 4, 2011

An early Starliner mock-up - August 4, 2011

The next stop was the Vehicle Assembly Building. It doesn't matter how many times I've been in the VAB, its sheer massiveness takes my breath away each time. Parked inside, I was so excited to see space shuttle orbiter Discovery, slightly disassembled, done with its space-flying lifetime and preparing to be a museum piece at the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum in Dulles. Seeing it up close and uncovered was amazing! But I almost teared up, because seeing a retired space shuttle like that is heartbreaking.

Retired Discovery in the VAB - August 4, 2011

Finally, the tour bus took us to the Air Force Station side of Cape Canaveral to the Atlas V rocket sitting on the launch pad with the Juno spacecraft tucked inside, waiting to be launched. I've never been that close to an active rocket. It was really cool! We went around the back first, then after the ULA safety officials deemed it okay, we drove around to the front. It's remarkable how little structure there was for the rocket compared to the huge rotating service structure that used to surround the space shuttles on the pad, which is what I was most used to seeing at the time. In comparison, the Atlas V looks so simple and uncluttered. It was beautiful!

Atlas V on the pad - August 4, 2011

Posing with the rocket - August 4, 2011

Bright and early on the morning of Friday, August 5, I arrived at the designated hotel to catch the KSC bus. When pulling into the hotel's parking lot looking for a parking spot while trying to get around the buses, I nearly ran over a man picking up his car at the hotel entrance. It was Charlie Bolden, the NASA Administrator!

We were taken to the Operational Support Building II (OSB-II) near the Vehicle Assembly Building to watch the launch from the fifth floor terrace, a location I had never seen a launch from before. Just prior to the morning briefing, I got a chance to meet Charlie Bolden and get a picture with him. He laughed when I apologized about nearly running him over. The briefing was pretty basic, just a general overview of the Juno spacecraft and mission as well as inspirational and good vibe messages of support. The head of the Italian Space Agency was there as well as a lot of other foreign delegates.

Meeting Charlie Bolden - August 5, 2011

After the briefing, we went outside on the terrace to wait. It was so hot out! We sat in the shade when we could, but that only helped a little. After they kept announcing countdown holds because of various problems (a ground helium leak and a boat in the restricted waters), we went back inside to cool off. Once the countdown resumed, we got a good spot at the balcony. I counted down the last ten seconds. It was so cool to see an Atlas V rocket launch from that close! I was surprised that the rocket lifted off so quickly compared to space shuttles. That rocket in particular has a lot of thrust, but the weight of the payload is light so it can get to Jupiter in a reasonable amount of time.

Juno lift-off! - August 5, 2011

Juno on its way to Jupiter - August 5, 2011

Next week, on July 4, 2016, Juno will “arrive” at Jupiter at long last. Congratulations to the Juno mission team, the scientists who are awaiting this data, and the ULA team that launched it safely there!

Tuesday, May 10, 2016

Space Science Awesomeness at Florida Space Institute and a Reusable Rocket in the Port

Hello pretty reusable rocket stage! - May 10, 2016

I have an internal debate every time. Should I bring my baby to this professional event? Why shouldn't I? But I've never seen anyone else bring a baby. What are my options, aside from skipping the event? Will anyone actually care?

Lately, the debate has been decided by this definitive statement: “I'm about to bring a baby to a conference for three whole days. I need to get over it.”

And so, for the National Space Club's monthly luncheon, I brought my baby along with me. The guest speaker was Ray Lugo, the head of the Florida Space Institute (FSI) which I was sort of under as a graduate student at the University of Central Florida (UCF). I wasn't going to miss his talk about my grad university and colleagues!

Attendees immediately made me feel welcome as I walked through the door with Josephine in my arms. The first person I spoke with, Barry, told me that he was glad I brought her. To my surprise, three people took photos with me and her. Eddie put my unsettled mind at ease, telling me that he brought his kid to events like this when they were little. The man I sat next to even plated my salad and poured my water for me. Thank you, everyone!

She slept while I ate. Then awoke and babbled during the talk! - May 10, 2016

Ray gave an overview of FSI for those unfamiliar. This began with an overview of the professors, all of which I knew and had worked with during my time as a graduate student. Then he went over some of their current research project. First, Josh Colwell and Addie Dove's projects. Strata-1 is a regolith size distribution project launched to the International Space Station. The cubesat experiment Q-PACE is another regolith experiment to study dust dynamics in microgravity, very similar to my grad research. NanoRocks, which had just begun when I was a student, flew on ISS in 2014 with NanoRacks.

Next, Phil Metzger's projects. World is Not Enough (WINE) is a collaboration with Honeybee Robotics to develop an ISS cubesat to test in-situ resource utilization technology such as sample acquisition, volatiles capture, and 3D-printed cold gas thrusters that use water vapor. Phil is also working on developing asteroid simulants and ISRU using clay but the slides moved too quickly for me to read it all.

Ray then discussed some of Dan Britt's projects such as the development of Martian sensors and a mission called Gulliver to conduct Martian moon sample return. He also mentioned an Earth observation cubesat mission and ground-penetrating radar to study asteroids. He concluded his talk by mentioning that UCF may bid to take over the operationsof the Arecibo observatory in Puerto Rico.

Ray Lugo at the National Space Club Florida Committee luncheon - May 10, 2016


Already at Port Canaveral for the talk, I stopped by Milliken's to check out the recovered SpaceX Falcon 9 rocket stage that launch and landed on a ship in the ocean on Friday. I stepped off the sidewalk onto a little dirt path so I could get a shot with the rocks and palm frond. So cool! I love living in Florida.

A space geek, a reusable rocket, and a baby. - May 10, 2016


Thank you, National Space Club Florida Committee, for making this working mom feel welcome.

Friday, April 8, 2016

Baby at the Science Fair

For the third year, I was honored to return to my undergraduate alma mater, Florida Institute of Technology in Melbourne, to judge the space sciences senior projects. Some of these students have been working on their research for just a semester, while others have been learning and refining their project over the course of their undergraduate career. I love meeting the students and learning about their research, which does change from year to year!

I was really rushed in recording my vlog at the event, so I want to summarize the projects here. The nine that I learned about from the students' mouths today were (in the numerical order they were assigned):

The Small Extreme-Contrast Ratio Imaging Telescope which uses the charge injection device (CID) technology that I learned about when evaluating International Space Station science proposals. (A CID was approved to fly on ISS, currently scheduled for June.)

A look at the closest and brightest quasar's quirky jet as seen from the Hubble Space Telescope in optical and X-ray.

A look at why cosmic rays hitting Earth aren't isotropic but instead concentrated in one area of the sky, as seen by two neutrino detectors.

A model to understand the planetary orbital resonances of exoplanets observed by Kepler.

A model to understand the spectroscopy (energy emitted) of regolith (dirt) on planetary bodies without atmospheres, including asteroids, with a particular look at porosity (how densely packed or how many holes there are in the grains). This is one of the many steps in a project I've been assisting with.

An examination of protein fiber growth that returned from flying on the ISS, another project I learned about when I did ISS research evaluation. It was nice to learn about the results of that experiment!

A look at the magnetic field of a massive O-type star as seen from a telescope in Hawaii.

Scale testing of the mirror deployment of the James Webb Space Telescope which should launch in 2018. Got to make sure those mirrors deploy perfectly in space!

A model to understand three-body resonances in exoplanetary systems as observed by Kepler.

My co-judge, baby Josephine, was with me this year. This would be her third time on Florida Tech's campus. We attended the Showcase reception together last night. She was also on the campus of the University of Central Florida in Orlando with me yesterday. We visited the Center for Microgravity Research, my former lab, the group responsible for the payload that flew on Blue Origin recently. Baby Josephine will continue her university tour later this month when we visit Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University in Daytona Beach.

Josephine and I at UCF visiting my former lab - April 7, 2016

Josephine and I posing with the panther at FIT - April 7, 2016

My co-judge squirming out of her wrap at the Science & Engineering Showcase at FIT - April 8, 2016

Saturday, April 2, 2016

COLLIDE-ing Suborbital Science with Blue Origin

I usually don’t blog on the weekend. I’m usually at the ice skating rink at this time on a Saturday. But amazing feats of science and engineering don’t limit themselves to weekday work hours. Right now, I’m geeking out to the latest successful launch and landing by private rocket company Blue Origin!

After I earned my master’s degree in high-energy astrophysics in Huntsville, I switched over to “experimental planetary science” (my phrasing) at the University of Central Florida with Dr. Josh Colwell as my advisor.

Josh was working on a number of projects, but one that caught my attention was the study of how space and planetary dust (regolith) interact at very low velocities. When the grains or clumps collide, do they stick together, bounce, break apart, or what? Most of what could do in the lab in 1 g (Earth’s gravity) was even faster than we wanted to observe. We built a drop tower in the lab to examine our experiment in microgravity, but our short tower only allowed less than a second of free fall. We wanted more. I flew on two parabolic aircraft campaigns with Josh to gain a few more seconds of microgravity per parabola. But still, we wanted more.

Josh had flown an experiment on orbit on the International Space Station, COLLIDE, Collisions Into Dust Experiment. He was preparing another version of COLLIDE to fly suborbitally on a Blue Origin experimental rocket. I was intrigued by the partnership with an emerging commercial space company. For my first year and a half in the lab, I participated in teleconferences with Blue and worked on preparing the experiment for launch. The engineering students on our team did most of the work, but I was pleased and excited to participate in any way I could.

A COLLIDE box in foreground, the original COLLIDE in background, and me recording something. - February 2011

But in 2011, Blue Origin’s test rocket malfunctioned and was destroyed. Our chance to fly COLLIDE with Blue was postponed indefinitely. We were all disappointed, but that’s the way it works in the space industry. This stuff is hard and set-backs happen.

I’ve been out-of-the-loop with the experiment since leaving UCF. But yesterday, I heard the exciting news that COLLIDE would launch soon. And this morning, it did just that. Blue Origin’s rocket New Shepard launch and landed successfully in Texas.

We’re all currently awaiting the release of the official video of the successful test. I’m awaiting news of how my grad school team’s experiment fared. Knowing first-hand just how tricky those experiment boxes can be, I’m crossing fingers and hoping for the best.

The official Blue Origin COLLIDE video can be seen here:



I will update this entry with the official Blue Origin rocket video once it’s published. But first, ice skating.


Monday, March 28, 2016

The Best and Worst Proposals I Saw When I Reviewed For a Living

My main responsibility when I worked at the Center for the Advancement of Science in Space (CASIS) was to evaluate the merit of International Space Station utilization proposals. I did this day in and day out with a variety of proposal types ranging from big money to no money, pure research science to technology demonstration, academic to commercial. Some proposals I evaluated myself, some as a team, and some with a panel of subject matter experts.

It didn’t take long to figure out what separated a good proposal from a bad proposal. Here are some tips for the proposal writers out there:

1. Follow the Instructions

We’re taught this in preschool, yet some professionals still don’t get it. The worst proposals (aside from the crackpots which were at least entertaining) were the ones that did not follow the guidelines. Unless that proposal had connections, it was immediately placed in the “needs to be reworked” pile if not outright rejected. One proposer refused to submit anything except titles and one-paragraph descriptions and there was nothing we could do with those. We really tried to give constructive feedback to those who submitted incomplete proposals on how they could improve or what they needed to add. What we said was already in the instructions.

The best proposals were the ones that literally copied and pasted the evaluation questions in their proposal (available in the instructions) and answered each one of them in detail. When an evaluation sheet asks the reviewer, “How does this proposal justify the use of the ISS?” and the proposal writer has two paragraphs under the heading, “Justifications for the use of the ISS,” evaluation is simple. If the instructions say to include these budget figures, include them. Everyone’s life is simpler when the instructions are written clearly and followed well.

2. Proofread

Reading through your writing to look for errors and to improve wording is another basic skill that we’re taught in primary school. Yet for whatever reason, maybe due to busy schedules or cockiness, professionals don’t always follow this step. One of the worst proposals I ever read was clearly a combination of a few previous proposals that had been copied and pasted into a new proposal. The fonts didn’t match, the document didn’t flow, and the whole idea didn’t make sense as it was written. If the proposal writer had taken the time to read through her document, she would have seen the glaring errors, at least two per page by my count.

A proposal is a professional document to try to convince others that the proposer is competent enough to complete the proposed task and that the task is worth doing. Submitting a poorly proofed proposal does not look good for the competency and professionalism of the proposer, no matter how worthy the task is.

A well written, well proofed, concise proposal is a rare prize. Such a shiny proposal is easy to read, easy on the eyes of the reviewer, and perhaps even a pleasure for the reviewer to read. A happy reviewer doesn’t guarantee a favorable outcome, but it helps.

3. Consider your audience.

Proposals submitted through a scientific review process, as described in the instructions, are evaluated by scientists. There were more than a few proposals written by businesses for business professionals submitted through our scientific process. Scientists call this business material fluff and it wastes our time. It also fills pages and wastes space that could be filled with scientific information that would strengthen a proposal. Taking out the marketing material, the proposal is left with very little content to evaluate. A lean proposal with little meat is not likely to be approved.

I’ve also evaluated business plan proposals for a previous job as a space industry analysis. Business plans evaluated by industry experts should be written differently than scientific proposals. It is okay to assume that the reviewer knows who the big aerospace players are without explanation. It is not okay to misspell the names of those big aerospace players. Business plans without basics like how the company intends to make a profit will leave reviewers rolling their eyes. In-depth technical information about the product doesn’t belong unless the instructions ask for it. I have scientific knowledge as well as industry knowledge, but I’m unusual. Don’t assume everyone knows the specific area of science you do.

In short, leave the marketing and MBA information out of scientific proposals. Include business information and exclude deep technical information (unless asked) in business plan proposals. Remember who your audience is.