The most important thing we can do is inspire young minds and to

The great astronaut and statesman John Glenn, the first American to orbit the Earth, once declared: “The most important thing we can do is inspire young minds and to advance the kind of science, math and technology education that will help youngsters take us to the next phase of space travel.” These words are not merely about rockets or stars — they are a testament to faith in the human spirit. Glenn, who looked down upon Earth from the vast silence of space, understood that the future of exploration, of civilization itself, rests not in the hands of machines or governments, but in the minds of the young. His message calls us to awaken wonder, to cultivate curiosity, and to see in each child the potential to carry humanity beyond the horizon of what is known.

When Glenn spoke of “inspiring young minds,” he spoke as one who had seen the power of inspiration firsthand. As a boy growing up in rural Ohio during the early days of flight, he would stand in open fields and watch airplanes cut through the sky like arrows of light. The dream of flight seized his imagination long before technology made it commonplace. That spark, that childlike wonder, carried him through the cockpit of the Marine Corps and into the stars themselves. He knew that no human achievement — not spaceflight, not scientific discovery, not civilization’s progress — begins with wealth or power. It begins with a question in the heart of a child: What lies beyond?

In the ancient world, the philosophers and builders of knowledge understood this same principle. The Greek academies and the libraries of Alexandria were not merely places of study, but temples of inspiration — where the wisdom of one generation was passed like a torch to the next. Aristotle taught that all knowledge begins in wonder, and from wonder comes invention. So too did Glenn believe that to inspire the young is to ignite the divine fire of discovery. For when curiosity is nurtured by education — in science, in mathematics, in the art of questioning — it becomes the driving engine of progress. Without that, even the greatest civilizations stagnate and fall.

Glenn’s reference to “science, math, and technology education” carries more than practical importance; it carries a moral one. These disciplines are not merely tools for innovation, but pathways to understanding the universe. To study them is to learn humility — to realize how small we are, and yet how capable. Through the laws of physics, we glimpse the harmony of creation. Through the formulas of mathematics, we see order in the chaos. Through technology, we extend our reach beyond what nature once permitted. For Glenn, to teach these subjects was to teach humanity to dream with discipline — to imagine boldly, but also to build wisely.

Consider the example of the Apollo program, whose triumph in 1969 was not the work of astronauts alone, but of countless scientists, engineers, and mathematicians — many of them young and previously unrecognized. Among them were women like Katherine Johnson, whose mastery of orbital mechanics ensured the success of the missions, and whose love of learning began in a segregated classroom in West Virginia. Her education became the foundation of spaceflight itself. This is what Glenn meant: that every young mind we inspire, every child we teach, carries within them the potential to move humanity forward.

And yet, Glenn’s quote is not merely about science — it is about vision. He understood that the destiny of humankind is not to remain earthbound, but to explore, to seek, to grow. Space travel, in his words, is both literal and symbolic: it represents the eternal upward striving of the human race. But such striving cannot exist without teachers, without mentors, without a culture that honors curiosity over comfort. To neglect the education of the young is to abandon the stars. To inspire them is to ensure that humanity never ceases to reach.

Therefore, the lesson we inherit from John Glenn is both simple and profound: to invest in education is to invest in eternity. Every time we nurture curiosity in a child, we prepare a pioneer for the journeys yet to come. Let parents, teachers, and leaders remember that the greatest monuments we can build are not of stone or steel, but of minds illuminated by knowledge. The space traveler, the inventor, the scientist — each begins as a child who was told, “You can.”

And so, let us heed Glenn’s call. Inspire. Teach. Encourage. Build schools that spark imagination, not just obedience. Celebrate science not as a cold pursuit of data, but as the poetry of the cosmos. For the stars await us still — and it is through the hands of our children, guided by education, that we shall one day reach them.