I believe the biggest impediment we have right now with going to

The words of Mae Jemison, pioneer and trailblazer among the stars, resound with the urgency of vision and the call to collective will: “I believe the biggest impediment we have right now with going to Mars is public commitment. More people need to see themselves as a part of space travel; we need to see more inclusiveness.” In this declaration lies not only the dream of reaching another world, but the deeper truth that no great destiny can be fulfilled unless all humanity sees itself reflected in that destiny. For the path to the heavens is not built of rockets alone—it is built of courage, unity, and shared purpose.

From the earliest ages, the great journeys of humankind required not only inventors and leaders, but the faith of entire peoples. When the ancient Egyptians raised the pyramids, it was not the vision of a single Pharaoh alone, but the labor of thousands who saw meaning in lifting stone toward the sky. When great voyages set sail from Spain and Portugal across uncharted oceans, the courage of sailors and the prayers of families sustained them as much as the strength of the ships. So too does Jemison remind us that the voyage to Mars cannot be carried on the shoulders of a few scientists or explorers; it must be embraced by the collective imagination of humanity.

The meaning of the quote is clear: our greatest barrier is not technical but spiritual. Rockets can be built, fuel can be refined, trajectories can be charted—but if the people of Earth do not believe themselves to be a part of the journey, then the flame of exploration will wither. Space travel must not remain the dream of a few, but must become the shared story of the many. Only then will the sacrifices, the funding, the risks, and the triumphs be sustained.

History offers us a shining mirror in the tale of John F. Kennedy’s moon speech in 1962. At that time, the technology to land on the Moon was scarcely imaginable. Yet Kennedy did not speak only of machines and calculations—he spoke to the people, calling them to see themselves in the mission. He declared that America would go to the Moon “not because it is easy, but because it is hard.” His words ignited the spirit of millions, and within a decade, humans walked on lunar soil. Jemison’s call is the same: without public commitment, the dream remains earthbound; with it, the impossible becomes inevitable.

Her words also strike at another eternal truth: the need for inclusiveness. For too long, exploration was framed as the realm of the few—the privileged, the powerful, the narrow slice of humanity chosen to represent the many. But Jemison, herself the first Black woman to travel into space, knows that the destiny of the stars must be broader. When every child, regardless of race, gender, or origin, sees themselves reflected in the story of space travel, then humanity will truly be ready to expand beyond Earth. Without inclusiveness, the journey will be partial; with it, the journey will be whole.

The lesson for us is profound: dream not only for yourself, but for all. Support not only the science of exploration, but the spirit of inclusion. Speak of the stars not as distant jewels reserved for a few, but as the inheritance of all who breathe under heaven’s dome. In your daily life, kindle curiosity in the young, support endeavors that expand human knowledge, and advocate for spaces—whether in schools, workplaces, or governments—that make every person feel they belong to the story of tomorrow.

Thus, let this wisdom be passed down: The journey to Mars is not only a voyage of rockets and steel, but of hearts and minds united. The greatest impediment is not distance, nor gravity, nor cost—it is the absence of shared vision. If we, as a people, embrace the call, if we see ourselves together in the voyage, then no horizon can hold us back. For in inclusiveness lies strength, and in unity lies the power to reach the stars.