Mauro Segura
I remember a few years ago, during management training, an instructor asked each of us to bring in an image that had spoken to us in adolescence and still remained present in our mind today.
Most people brought in pictures of their family, of their first boyfriend or girlfriend, of their dog, or even a class photo. I was the only person who brought in the image of the first man on the moon.
I was exactly 9 years old when Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon. It felt like a dream. I remember watching the moon, trying to catch a glimpse of Armstrong’s shadow. I spent a good part of my childhood wanting to be an astronaut. I was fascinated by astronomy, and knew all about the colors of the planets, Saturn’s moons, and the names of the galaxies.
It didn’t even cross my mind that the “space race” wasn’t just about ideals and challenges. Of course, it was also a product of the conflict between the Americans and Soviets.
The world was fighting the cold war, and my mind was stuck on the moon. My interest in the subject was awakened when the USSR sent the first living thing to space in 1957.
I imagined Laika, the first dog in space, as beautiful, as she entered the space ship excited and full of happiness. I imagined her returning from space joyful, as she reunited with her owner.
It was only decades later that I realized that Laika, was sent to space by the soviets to die. She embarked on a voyage of no return. She was a martyr and didn’t even know it.
Today, the whole race to the moon, truly pinpoints a time in my life when I was dreaming. I dreamed of a different world. I dreamed of a distant future. I dreamed of the almost unattainable. Once I became an adult, reality set in. Still, I kept the image of the moon, in the back of my mind.
This July, man setting foot on the moon, has come back to me. The medias are celebrating 40 years since man conquered the moon. The image of the footprint came back full speed, through newspapers, TV, and the web. It made me dream again. It made me dream much less than in my childhood, but it still took me away.
I get the impression that today’s youth dreams little. Perhaps they are less idealistic. Perhaps they are a bit sadder. When we dream, our future seems closer and concrete. The future becomes almost palpable.
Today, the world moves with such intense speed, and an abundance of connectivity and easy access to information. We don’t know how to disconnect from reality. When we start to dream, we are constantly distracted by a text or by twitter. There is a strong pull pushing us back to reality. In today’s world, it wouldn’t take decades to know that Laika was destined to die. We all would have known in mere minutes.
During my childhood, I would play in open fields, in squares, and in parks. I met my friends there, and we would talk about life. It was always the same group of kids. We played soccer with a flat ball and old, worn out, sneakers. Traveling was a special treat, and almost always unforgettable.
Today’s childhood overflows with technology. Social networks are the fields today. We speak to a huge number of people we barely know. Often time, we call them friends after only a few hours of virtual contact. Our children ”play” online.
As far as traveling goes, we travel almost everyday through the Internet. We are constantly discovering the unknown online. In a sense, the world has really lost its borders.
I’m not arguing that this new world is better or worse than the world in the past. I think we currently live in a more democratic environment, which is much more conscious of its challenges. Yet, upon seeing the image of the man on the moon, it’s impossible not to feel that the world does dream a little less.
