When I went to Test Pilot School, that's when we came to Johnson

Sunita Williams, voyager among the stars and heir to the spirit of exploration, once reflected upon her journey with these words: “When I went to Test Pilot School, that's when we came to Johnson Space Center. And I ended up seeing John Young and listening to him talk and getting a positive influence from him.” Though modest in tone, these words reveal a great truth about human aspiration—that no one climbs alone, and that greatness is often born from the light of those who walked the path before us.

The meaning of this saying lies in the power of example. Williams, already a woman of discipline and courage, did not rise upon her strength alone. At the Johnson Space Center, she encountered John Young, one of NASA’s most legendary astronauts—the man who flew in Gemini, walked on the Moon with Apollo 16, and commanded the first flight of the Space Shuttle. In listening to his words, she received not only knowledge but also conviction, the inner flame of possibility. His life became a mirror, showing her what could be achieved, and thus his influence shaped the trajectory of her own destiny.

The origin of this wisdom stretches back through time. Throughout history, the apprentice has looked to the master, the young warrior to the seasoned veteran, the student to the sage. Alexander the Great sat at the feet of Aristotle and drank deeply of philosophy before conquering empires. Generations of artists flocked to Florence, where the brushstrokes of Giotto and Michelangelo gave them courage to shape their own visions. Just so, Sunita Williams, upon hearing John Young, realized that she too could follow a path carved by giants and perhaps carve new paths for others to follow.

Consider the story of John Glenn, the first American to orbit the Earth. He became a symbol of courage, but he too once looked to Chuck Yeager, the test pilot who first broke the sound barrier, as proof that the impossible could be done. In the same way, Williams looked to Young, not as an untouchable idol, but as a living man whose footsteps she could place her own into. The greatness of explorers, then, is not only in what they achieve, but in how they inspire those who come after them.

Williams’s reflection also carries a lesson about influence itself. Influence is not force. John Young did not command her to walk his path; he simply lived fully, spoke truly, and shared his story. From this, Williams drew strength. The greatest influences often arise not from grand speeches or heroic gestures, but from the quiet conviction of those who embody what they believe. Influence flows from authenticity, from courage, from the lived example of a life well spent.

O children of tomorrow, hear this teaching: when you walk your journey, seek out those who have gone before. Listen to their voices, watch their steps, and let their example guide you. Do not imagine that to learn from another is weakness; it is wisdom. Even the stars are not solitary—they shine brighter together. And when you become strong, remember that others will be watching you, listening to you, drawing strength from your words and deeds. Live, then, in such a way that your very presence becomes a positive influence.

Therefore, the lesson is clear: greatness is a chain, forged link by link across generations. Sunita Williams was shaped by John Young, just as he was shaped by those before him. And so the chain continues. Stand tall, walk boldly, but never forget to look to those who came before—and to live so that those who follow will find in you the same strength.

Thus her words endure as a quiet hymn of gratitude: “When I went to Test Pilot School … I ended up seeing John Young and … getting a positive influence from him.” Let them remind us that the torch of exploration is never carried by one alone. It is passed, hand to hand, voice to voice, life to life, until at last it lights the way to the stars.