In 1966, a television show set in Outer Space debuted on Thursday nights. I was twelve. My mother wouldn’t let me watch the show. But I was already reading everything I could find about “outer space.” The show was irresistible for me. When reruns ran during the day, this latchkey kid watched every episode. I read books set within the Star Trek universe and I continued to learn in real-time about the space program, ongoing exploration, and the courageous adventurers who set off into the cosmos. That TV show and its subsequent iterations are a constant thread for me, a connection to story that is strong and vital. I am grateful to the new generations of writers, actors, and crew members who keep the mythology dynamic. (A new season of Star Trek Discovery began last night—it’s on my mind.)