To mark International Day of Human Space Flight tomorrow, we look towards our interview with aspiring astronaut Taylor Richardson.
Taylor Richardson discovered her passion for space when she was 5 or 6 years old, and after reading a book by astronaut Dr. Mae Jemison when she was in the third grade, she began to dream of becoming an astronaut. However, as Richardson chased after her dream, she failed to see others who looked like her at Space Camp (which she attended at age 9) or in robotics class. She was often the only Black person or female in the group, and this lack of representation sparked Richardson’s interest in advocacy.
In 2015, at the age of 12, Richardson organized a book drive called Take Flight with a Book, which collected more than 700 books to be donated to schools in her hometown of Jacksonville, Florida. Then, in December 2016, Richardson was among those invited to the White House to watch an advance screening of Hidden Figures, the true story of Black female mathematicians who helped send astronauts into space in the early 1960s. Inspired by the film and wanting more girls to see it, she and her mom set up a GoFundMe page, hoping to raise $1,500 so that a hundred girls could see the movie in Jacksonville. They ended up raising close to $20,000, which paid for a thousand movie tickets, plus copies of the Hidden Figures book to hand out. That successful campaign inspired 72 additional campaigns for screenings of Hidden Figures in 28 states. The campaigns raised more than $120,000, making Richardson GoFundMe’s hero of the month in February 2017.
A few months later, Richardson was invited to speak in front of more than 100,000 people at the March for Science in Washington, D.C. Her speech is now listed in the Stories of Science database of inspired speeches and featured in Women You Should Know. Richardson has also been featured in publications such as Forbes, Huffington Post, Teen Vogue (as one of the magazine’s “21 under 21” in 2017), and Glamour (as one of its “17 Young Women Who Created Real Change in 2017”). She was also part of Hulu’s “Real Life Powerpuff Girls” campaign in 2017, and she has been a guest on Good Morning America and the GoFundMe podcast.
Industries are becoming more inclusive, but Richardson sees there is still much work to be done. STEM businesses, in particular, should be more welcoming to a diverse array of people from different backgrounds and ethnicities, especially because the STEM industry is merit-based. And while advocating for BIPOC like herself is a tall order for a young person, with many young activists becoming unmotivated and drained, Richardson is fueled by the encouraging messages from her followers and her support system that remind her of the importance of her work. She keeps at it because representation is essential for young people of color to know that they have the potential to excel. She says that a lack of diverse representation in STEM leads to a lack of acknowledgment for BIPOC, which extends to issues beyond representation, like worth and pay. And so her work continues.
But as accomplished as Richardson is, she is also a normal 18-year-old who prioritizes her version of self-care, which includes singing, dancing, and her favorite kiwi-strawberry smoothies with ginger. Her advice to her young BIPOC followers watching her journey is “stay true to you, unapologetically. Be kind and do what you can to help others. Keep the seat warm for the next person, or better yet, bring them with you. This is a journey that will have successes and failures, ups and downs, and that’s OK.”
This way of thinking has been helpful in Richardson’s life. She says she was retained in the second grade due to poor reading, diagnosed with ADHD (which she refers to as “abundantly different, happily divine”), bullied, and diagnosed with dyscalculia (a mathematics learning disorder)—and, yes, she has earned a few C’s in math. Richardson says you need to believe in yourself before anyone else will push through, but you also need to lean on your support system and ask for help.
Science clicked for Richardson because it was the only class where she felt comfortable enough to make mistakes. That’s what science really is after all: educated guesses that are tested to see if they work. Richardson says it is completely OK to be wrong and to always follow the beat of your own drum, because “comparison is the thief of joy.” As Richardson says, “It’s your race, so go at your pace. What is for you will be for you.”
As a BIPOC making strides in the STEM field, Richardson says it’s not about other BIPOC breaking into spaces where they’re not traditionally represented, but rather focusing on the ability to take up space while letting others know that BIPOC are here to stay. Taking the first step might be hard, especially because, as Richardson and other BIPOC have experienced, there isn’t always a welcoming seat at the table. This isn’t due to a lack of interested BIPOC, but rather industries not being open to change and new perspectives.
For Richardson, fighting for representation is only possible because she has mentors and role models who inspire her to be her best self. “From those who are local to those via social media, to my sisters in Ghana, to my brothers in Ireland, near and far, to the youngsters who are 5, to the seasoned over 75, to those still on this earth, to those no longer here, to those I’ve gotten the opportunity to meet, and to those who I dream of one day sharing space with—I’m inspired by them all in how they continue to do their part to bring about good change for all people and impact me as well to do the same on my journey,” Richardson says. This intersectional approach to her advocacy is what ensures that she and others receive and understand the message that BIPOC in STEM, from all backgrounds, need to be given space in order for our world to become more equitable and inclusive.
Image courtesy of Renee Parenteau
