Samantha Singh

Today, people no longer have to imagine a voyage into space. Instead, they can live it.

Warp drive. Mirror universe. Technobabble. Extraterrestrial humanoid species. These terms are just some of the many beloved sci-fi space tropes in Star Trek, a television series and staple of popular culture around the globe. 

Today, people no longer have to imagine a voyage into space. Instead, they can live it. On December 19, 2021, the Falcon 9 rocket, a private vehicle owned by SpaceX, was launched, alleviating sustainability concerns regarding space exploration. The rocket was one-of-a-kind: it possessed a two-stage rocket booster system with reusable engines. This reusability extended past the engines, however, as the combined stage system carried the rocket 100 kilometers before detaching the first stage part. This allowed for the first stage to land back to Earth, and later be refurbished for another space journey. An amalgamation of carbon fiber landing legs, aluminum-lithium walls, and metal contraptions brought to life from the pages of a science fiction novel, the SpaceX Falcon 9 rocket was positioned to break barriers in sustainable space transportation technology. The ultimate goal of SpaceX’s reusable rockets like Falcon 9, and other space ventures, is to ensure permanent resettlement of humankind on Mars if and when the situation on Earth goes awry. However, this goal is rooted in Musk’s own desire to maximize profit, as he is offering capitalist diversions as a placebo, the same diversions that increase his capital at the cost of rampant environmental destruction. 

Space exploration is essential to understanding the universe as we know it. Additionally, many life-saving innovations have emerged from space programs, such as insulin pumps and CAT scans. Nonetheless, what is the cost of our pursuit of the universe? The romanticism of space travel and the terraforming of Mars, much like what has been done extensively in popular culture and media, is not only idealistic — it’s incredibly dangerous, as it entails worsening the climate disaster on Earth, as well as increasing the wealth gap. For one, the landscape of Mars is straight out of a horror movie. While the Earth’s ozone layer and atmosphere block out harmful solar radiation, Mars is constantly bathed in harmful ultraviolet radiation. What’s worse is that Mars’ atmosphere is too thin, making it unable to trap heat, like Earth’s, and furthermore unable to hold liquid water on the planet’s surface. According to NASA, increasing Mars’ atmosphere to that of Earth’s would take millions of years, and no practical solutions or modern-day technology can alleviate the issue. 

Not only does Mars have a nearly inhospitable environment, but the trip to Mars is also a taxing and perilous one. NASA and the International Space Station have conducted evaluations to identify hazards of human spaceflight to Mars, and the results are far from utopian. They estimate that people could be crammed in small spaces for long periods of time (roughly three years to travel to Mars), isolated, and poisoned by cancer-causing radiation in deep space. Any microorganisms, deadly or otherwise, can more easily be transferred from human to human in the closed-off environment of the spacecraft. Not to mention that the lack of gravity during flight can cause brittle bones (osteoporosis) prematurely, accelerated weakening of organs, and a drop in immune cells fighting against disease. The disregard of these well-known horrors, endorsed by countless scientists and irrefutable research, exemplifies the profit-driven mindset private enterprises have while advancing projects like Falcon 9. 

The near inhabitable landscape of Mars, and space at large, doesn’t seem to ward off billionaires looking to grow their capital in what’s known as the “billionaire space race.” In 2019, former CEO of Amazon Jeff Bezos told an audience that the Earth will become a “civilization of rationing and stasis,” so we must expand to space where “resources are, for all practical purposes, infinite.” At the International Astronautical Congress in 2016, Elon Musk, Founder and CEO of SpaceX, emphasized his goal of colonial settlement to Mars, explaining that “history suggests that there will be some extinction event. The alternative is to become a space-faring civilization and multi-planetary species.” Now, with the launch of the lucrative private space industry — headed by billionaires Jeff Bezos, Elon Musk, and Richard Branson — more and more rockets are being launched to outer space with the intent of making space travel more “accessible to all,” per Richard Branson. 

Regardless of how “accessible” space tourism may become, many researchers are worried that the Falcon 9 rocket, along with others like it, will have dire consequences for the environment. According to The Guardian, these rockets require propellants — kerosene in the case of the Falcon 9 Rocket — and other fuels that increase carbon emissions in the atmosphere; these carbon emissions tend to stay in the atmosphere for two to three years, and burning fuels accelerates the destruction of the ozone layer, the layer in the Earth’s atmosphere that blocks harmful ultraviolet radiation. What’s worse is the space tourism industry is expected to boom in popularity, increasing by 17.15% each year in the next decade. As the industry doubles and triples in size, so too will the problem of emissions. It is imperative that we consider the ugly realities of space travel in more ways than one. 

Rather than investing in the private space race, billionaires should instead invest in fighting the current climate crisis. Wildfires, record heat waves, increased drought, and other extreme weather conditions are just a few of the many climate disasters endangering all life on Earth. Why move to Mars or search for other planets when we can rectify the situation on Earth? Space exploration and travel may provide an understanding of the beyond, but space colonization, in particular, shifts crucial focus away from global warming on Earth, propagated by industries such as the space tourism industry. Space billionaires seek an escape from the irreversible repercussions of climate change that they largely accelerated. Rather than investing millions of dollars of funding — Blue Origin received 579 million dollars in funding from NASA in 2020 alone — to develop a more habitable Earth, space capitalists are placing bids on Mars and other galactic entities. 

Due to the impending climate crisis, billionaire space race, and the slim-to-none chance of ever successfully terraforming Mars, it is vital that we shift global focus and resources from space exploration to saving our planet. Escapist daydreams proposed by billionaires for profit, partly pushed by human manifest destiny ideology, are becoming the cure-all for the guilt we feel for exploiting our 4.5-billion-year-old planet. However, the facts are simple: Mars colonization, similar to Star Trek’s warp drive or techno-babble, is simply a form of utopianism, providing an escape for the bourgeois elite, rather than a safety net for all people. On the other hand, climate change is a very real and devastating threat that requires immediate global attention. Instead of developing technology to look outward at the strange new worlds of space, we should first look inwards at the planet we call home. 

Bezos, Jeff. “Going to Space to Benefit Earth.” Filmed May 9, 2019. Video, 51:27. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GQ98hGUe6FM. 

Gammon, Katharine. "How the Billionaire Space Race Could Be One Giant Leap for Pollution." The Guardian, July 19, 2021. https://www.theguardian.com/science/2021/jul/19/billionaires-space-tourism-environment-emissions. 

Kramer, Miriam and Bryan Walsh. "The Push to Define Workers' Rights in Space." Axios, April 13, 2021. https://www.axios.com/workers-rights-space-private-companies-4c5605e1-ddd8-480f-a60d-793f2343cb79.html

Mayes, Janet. "As Amazon Workers Struggle for a Union, Bezos Sends Exploitation to Outer Space." Workers World, April 16, 2021. https://www.workers.org/2021/04/55868/. 

O’Connell, Cathal. "Reusable Rockets Explained." Cosmos, February 6, 2018. https://cosmosmagazine.com/space/launch-land-repeat-reusable-rockets-explained/. 

Roulette, Joey. "Blue Origin ‘Gambled’ with Its Moon Lander Pricing, NASA Says in Legal Documents." The Verge, September 29, 2021. https://www.theverge.com/2021/9/29/22689729/blue-origin-moon-lunar-lander-price-nasa-hls-foia. 

Steigerwald, Bill and Nancy Jones. "Mars Terraforming Not Possible Using Present-Day Technology." NASA, July 30, 2018. https://mars.nasa.gov/news/8358/mars-terraforming-not-possible-using-present-day-technology/. 

In a KidSpirit Feature article, teen writer Samantha Singh explores how private space exploration companies like SpaceX and Blue Origin contribute to problems here on Earth.

Beam Me Up, Scotty!

Lyla Cheary

Dune. The simplicity of the name upholds the plot's mystery — just enough context for the title to make sense without giving away much of the story. 

I have always liked titles like these. At first, it may not be inherently obvious why that was the chosen title, but it becomes evident during or even after the movie has finished. 

The moment the theater dimmed and the screen faded out, I felt a hush wash over everyone in the theater. The light illuminated the room, and the movie opened up to a beautiful yet dramatic scene. Immediately, we were thrown into this new world of planets, space, war, and potentially even magic. We followed the heros, catching glimpses of the saviors and running from villains. Like many other movies before, it seemed expected of us to catch up with the pace of the movie as it went on. However, as minutes passed, it seemed like their world was moving a mile a minute. For about an hour, I was perplexed. I knew so little about the movie, I was not even sure what the main character's name was. I was confused, trying to absorb new concepts and words that were thrown at us.

The confusion, however, did not last forever. As soon as the movie's details and elements snapped into place, it felt like the movie slowed down. On paper, the movie seemed very eventful: betrayal, action, and adventure. However, despite those attributes, the movie felt uneventful and slow. At first, I could not tell if the movie seemed adventurous because I did not understand what was happening or there was just more plot at the start. From then on, the movie seemed slow and boring. 

On top of the movie's pace, some of the dialogue was rather hard to understand. Paul Atreides, played by Timothée Chalamet, is the main character, with many lines throughout the movie. Despite that prominent role, he seems to mumble many of his lines. Timothée Chalamet and other actors’ mumbling and low tones may contribute to many factors of the movie, such as the slow pace and confusion at the beginning. Maybe, if the dialogue were clearer, a more substantial plot would be apparent. Same with the confusion; maybe if my family and I could have heard more of the lines, we would not have been as confused.   

Even though some lines may have been difficult to hear, I could not help but notice how beautiful the movie was. Each shot was stunning, indicating how much thought was put into each scene. The world was awe-inspiring. The majority of the film was shot in a desert, a very simple landscape, but with unique lighting and wide shots, I grew to appreciate its simplicity. The sand, if you looked closely, almost seemed to glisten, unlike any beach you’d ever see on earth. This slight shimmer to the sand was not only beautiful but a gentle reminder of the movie’s initial plot. Additionally, in almost every shot there was a detail to focus on, causing you to “zoom in” on the graphics, not just look at them from afar.  

However, as the movie came to a close, the thought occurred to me that it seemed like a fantastic lead-up to a sequel. To me, Dune seemed to build in a way that made the thought of seeing the next movie rather intriguing. Although the pace of Dune may be relatively slow, it leaves a good question of what is going to happen next. The events that occurred throughout the movie were slightly bland, but also a little surprising. How Paul Atreides will deal with his chosen path, and other occurrences throughout the movie, is very intriguing to me, as his persona seems wise, thoughtful, and caring. 

Many of the characters had lovely personalities. The longer I watched the movie, the more I liked the characters. In particular, I found Paul very interesting. When needed, he would act up to his role as leader, as many people looked up to him and his family. Although the movie never mentions his age, Paul is about 15 years of age, according to Frank Herbert's book, on which the film was based. After I got home from the theater, there were so many questions about the film zooming around in my head. Had the movie not made important aspects clear on purpose? Or did I just miss most of the movie? Nevertheless, I did a little research into the movie to make the details clearer, such as how old Paul was, and certain characters’ power status.  During many moments throughout the movie, you would never guess his young age based on his wise, thoughtful persona. However, the teenage light does shine through at several points throughout the movie. Jessica Atreides, Paul's mother, is also a great character. While being there for her role as concubine to Duke Leto, she also is a kind and caring mother and helps him become the strong character he is today.

Mystery. Was there any? Although the plot may not have been obvious, most events seemed a little predictable. In no way was Dune the best movie I have ever watched. In fact, having no prior knowledge about Dune whatsoever, I even needed to do a little background research into it to strengthen my understanding of the film. However, I am not saying Dune was a bad movie; it was rather enjoyable overall. The graphics were stunning and made the movie a lot better.  There was quite a bit of mumbling and confusion toward the beginning of the movie, which had a significant effect on my opinion. Ultimately, I give this movie 3 ½ stars out of five. Points taken for confusion, slow pace, and the dullness of the plot, but points given for graphics, and positive reinforcements for a possible sequel. 

In a KidSpirit Media review, teen writer Lyla Cheary gives her take on the newest film adaptation of Dune.

A Review of Dune

Natalie Tai

There was a time when I was lost at sea. 

Drowning in a deep pool of people whose waves crashed so loudly, I could hear nothing and everything at once. Stranded in the waters where my blood ran free but my legs dared not leap forward, I was so ironically bare in a place I called home. 

I was nine when I first moved back to Taiwan. Big brown eyes and slick black hair (perhaps a little bit tanned under the Singaporean sunshine, too), I looked like just about all the kids around me. Although this superficial disguise gave me a soothing sense of cultural belonging, it very much remained an insignificant facet of my identity and would later prove futile as I navigated my way into academia in search of true connection. 

As a bilingual Singaporean who is fluent in Mandarin with a Taiwanese accent but spends most of the day speaking British English in an American accent, I guess you could say that I was the manifestation of an identity crisis. If you were peeking at this little nutshell of me from the outside, there might have been a few cracks here and there, but I was happy, happy with the way things were, happy with the way I was. 

Looking back, I was very much naive to the world and naive to myself, and perhaps that is the case for most nine-year-olds. And perhaps you could say that “ignorance is bliss,” and I admit it, too. I had the absolute time of my life! But when that fantastical world of clear skies and smooth seas could no longer stand true, wouldn’t the crash sting more in a backlash? 

Entering fourth grade as a non-citizen in a public Taiwanese school, I was eager to fit in. Having just graduated the third grade with a reputation for perfection, I just needed to keep things up. 

But one problem stood in the way, the huge language barrier that just could not be ignored: I could not read or write in traditional Chinese. The implications of this gap extended far beyond the scope of peer-to-peer communication. It meant that I could only understand three-fourths of what the teacher said, half of the conversational language around me, and nothing, absolutely nothing, from my textbooks. 

I had never felt more out of place in my life. And admitting, accepting, and facing this sense of alienation was something I dreaded. I was truly defea — 

But before I could make that claim, I entered fifth grade. 

Carrying a backpack of red-inked 30s and Fs into a new school year, I was mortified. But little did I know that that coming semester, I would be lucky enough to have someone, a little lifeguard, floating at sea with me.

My fifth grade teacher was a short woman with thick rectangular glasses. She didn’t speak English, but you know what she did speak? Patience and kindness, two of the hardest universal languages to master, ones I’m still learning to perfect every day. 

A few weeks into the new semester, English and Hokkien classes quickly became one-on-one supplementary tutoring. Going through every subject she could — from social studies to mathematics — she read aloud every word of every page and every question, just for me to finally decipher the printed characters in my textbooks. 

I finally understood the language of my country. Though there might still have been a few Fs here and there, there was a visible improvement in my academic performance, and most importantly, my attitude toward life. 

The respect I was shown changed the way I respected myself and the way I respected others. The endless patience dedicated to a single child’s learning taught me just how much value helping one single person holds. The kindness my teacher demonstrated to me continues to kindle the light of kindness that shines with me everyday, one that blazes a boundless torch of universal love, raised high in the air to light up the deep waters and ever-so-tugging currents for those in need of a little brightness and warmth, lost at sea. 

In fifth grade, I bade farewell to a mode of life built on the idea of social success and greeted a new, universal vision built on personal growth and social impact. With the fundamental values of respect and kindness, I learned to navigate my way into adolescence and paved the path to the person I want to become. Although rough seas still make me stumble here and there, and that candle of kindness wavers to and fro, I keep in mind that smooth seas don’t make skillful sailors, and that this turbulence only makes me stronger in the face of greater challenges. From debating the global issues of racism, homophobia, or sexism, to understanding the interpersonal disputes of families, friendships, and strangers on the street, the decisions I make today and tomorrow hold marks of the kindness I was taught more than half a decade ago. And from the passions I pursue, dreams I chase, and small gestures I extend to those around me, I am continuously humbled by the infinite power one small act of kindness can hold. And today, as we reexamine the relics of the unsung heroes of human history, victorious warriors in literature, and celebrated figures in current events, we see a pattern that demonstrates just how timeless and extraordinarily magical these values can be.

In a KidSpirit Helping Hands article, teen writer Natalie Tai describes a helpful teacher whose impact rippled forward to forever change her view of kindness and compassion.

Lost at Sea

Kavya Shah

Time is the answer to most questions. Just broke up with your boyfriend? Time will heal you. 

Feeling anxious? The passing of time will help you focus. Unable to make people hear you? Time and growing up will add merit to your personality, hence giving you a platform for your voice. Most cultures, including mine, accentuate the power of time and give it a godly placement in society. It becomes the center of existence, facilitates the self-worth of individuals, emphasizes the need for the continuation of traditions, and provides reason for ingraining small activities in everyday life. Time impacts the world at a cosmic level, a societal level, and eventually an individual level. 

Time governs many aspects of my faith. Faith can be analyzed through multiple lenses, for it is a multifaceted concept. Faith can relate to God, to oneself, or to familial values; in my opinion, the most powerful thing or person to have faith in is oneself. To have faith in oneself is to have faith in just being and understanding that self-worth is derived from existence, not actions. The process of developing faith in oneself is a journey that eases with time as a person goes through various stages in life, such as relationships, rejections, and even achievements; faith becomes the anchor tying a person to self-worth, the knowledge that the hurdles projected by life are irrelevant to their individual identity. It is only through time that faith in oneself strengthens. 

The only way that external events can be prevented from hampering faith in oneself is by repeatedly proving to the soul that, together, the body and mind simply can. Building that level of self-confidence takes time. My culture is broadly influenced by my faith’s traditions, and, therefore, great importance is placed on karma. Karma, a Sanskrit word, is the spiritual principle of cause and effect, a cosmic law that states that, with time, both good and bad deeds are returned to each person. It is often used to highlight the ripple effect of performing a good deed such that, by sowing goodness, it circles back to you. It is a balancing act, one that simultaneously deals with the consequences of past actions and the opportunity for healing in the present. Time plays a critical role in this process, for knowing that every action is repaid at an unpredictable moment ensures that people monitor their actions at each point in their day. In this way, time has the capacity to deeply affect everyday lives. Thus, time influences religion, value systems, and even social behavior.

My culture notes that respect is earned with time and aging. Therefore, the elderly are more respectable and, upon meeting them, youngsters touch their feet both to seek blessings and as a sign of respect. The understanding is that with age comes wisdom and experience such that the elderly can guide the newer generation because they have seen more trying times. I am in no place to critique such a tradition, one which I follow. However, I will highlight that the aged hold knowledge of a time before, and one cannot expect grandparents in their late 70s to guide the newer generation on modern problems, such as social media, for they simply don’t understand them. Moreover, respect cannot be earned, it has to be simply given. I take from my culture that, with the practice of touching the feet of the elderly, one implies respect for their struggles and acknowledges the power of time. 

A microcosm of the larger community, individual families also experience age-based power dynamics. The most stereotypical Indian household story is the mother-in-law bullying the newly arrived daughter-in-law and forcing her to succumb to the pressures of managing an unwelcoming household. Several surveys conducted in relation to this occurrence pay heed to the same results; the saying goes, “Kyunki saas bhi kabhi bahu thi” [Once upon a time, even the mother-in-law was in the place of the daughter-in-law]. The cycle continues, for with time comes power, and people will do anything to keep power once it is attained. But it isn’t just power that comes with time, it is also patience and compassion and love. Hence, time becomes a signal for change.

In addition, my culture treats time as a symbol that determines the “right time” to do everything. The right time for marriage for girls is between 20 and 25, after which the beauty of their innocence is said to become scarce; the right time for the CEO to retire is before they enter their late 60s; the right time to graduate college is 25, and so the list goes. When people like me choose to misalign themselves with the concept of the “right time,” one so stringently followed, it is considered lashing out, and those people are named outlaws. This makes it apparent that society today is still evolving and in desperate need of healing. 

The reason I don’t align with the concept of “right time” is simple: each person has their own unique set of goals. By generalizing the proper ages for achieving milestones, individual growth and personal achievements are sidelined. “Change” has no right time, and is simply inevitable; if hurdles, pain, death, and bureaucratic loopholes have no “right time,” then why should every individual’s life be mapped out by a society which fails to understand each person’s personal “right time”?

I have previously discussed the spiritual, philosophical, and symbolic importance of time in my community. However, it is important to extend that understanding of time by looking at how it shapes everyday life. Prayers take place in the morning, after temple bells wake the town or, in rural villages, the cuckoo bird sings at dawn. Society, through time, repeatedly emphasizes the values of waking up early, believing that the day is just more productive that way. Moreover, my culture endorses, and I circle back to this, the healing power of time. Time is critical, it stops for no one, and my culture understands and accepts that, forcing teenagers like myself to use it wisely and engage in activities to boost both their careers and souls. Sick days are taken by everyone, at work places, schools, and colleges; I have recently started taking mental health days, not as an excuse to miss school but to spend time with myself and do things that make me genuinely happy and healthy.

My day starts with a hug from my mother and a cup of coffee lovingly brewed by my father. I move on to greet my grandparents (since I stay in a joint family) and bow down to the Krishna and Radha portraits in my house. I pray each morning, not to invoke the lords, but because research has proven that chanting is beneficial to the body. It takes a few seconds, but to stop, listen to the heartbeats, and be engulfed in the cosmos within oneself allows the soul to heal, with time. Studies have been conducted to examine the positive implications of chanting; it is said to lower stress, anxiety, and depressive symptoms. By giving time to small, minute actions, which are very easy to skip, the body is able to heal and become mentally stronger. Giving time to oneself is critical: enjoying a meal without internet access, sleep without notifications from one’s mobile phone, or time with friends beyond meeting to make Reels aid in soothing the soul. The simple act of giving time to real events and people has wondrous effects: dark circles vanish and real laughter flourishes, for time has the power to physically heal a person. 

To conclude, time is central to everything; it facilitates the formation of every kind of relationship, heals people from hardships and trauma, and helps us be more productive. While it has connotations I don’t fully embrace, I accept them, for we are an evolving society, and I strongly believe that with time, and just a little bit of hope, everything will be alright!

In a KidSpirit Interfaith Connections article, teen writer Kavya Shah shares how time is central to Indian culture, faith, and everyday life.

And All Will Be Better, with Time . . .

Fifi Wang

the last boy who gave you an equation of a heart on valentine’s day went home crying so here is my proposal of the second-best confession 

Spacetime is defined as any mathematical model which 
fuses the three dimensions of space and the one dimension 
of time into a single four-dimensional manifold. In another 
inkstain: A warp of spacetime away, I am the bird perched 
on your shoulder but it was your weight on me, your gravity 
tying my claws to your shoulder. Newton’s third law states that 
every action must have a reaction, but the bruises in my throat 
from hoarding your name lead me nowhere. All I remember: 
Numerous functions scattered across the blackboard, x’s and 
y’s criss-crossed together until they were reaching limits, 
euler’s number printed in the very center like a sun and 
everything else were planets and stars, breaking exponentials 
to reach a complexity undefined by four quatrains. Sometimes 
when I close my eyes I dream about university lectures with you, 
look down and my fingertips ashened with white chalk and 
all the equations I couldn’t bring myself to solve because you see, 
it’s all one big metaphor: I am a bird trapped inside an hourglass 
that is time, beating against the glass until my feathers are 
sticky with blood. The modern Icarus. I fling myself toward 
the light in the distance and I fling myself in the direction of 
your eyes but time and space are not tapestries like we were taught 
in school; they are solid tesseracts and I am but a caged bird. 

The speed of light is constant regardless of the frame of 
reference in which it is measured; the distances of event pairs 
change when measured in different inertial frames of reference 
because of the relativity of simultaneity. I think the cruelest 
part about all of this is that the glass is not stained, not even 
rose-colored — because then I would have an excuse to be 
illusioned — no, the glass is crisp clear. There are colors I could 
only see with you. On the glass there’s no fingerprint because 
you fill me up with so much melancholy that I turn non-human, 
and yet I’ve never understood the point of being human better 
than the first moment we met. A pyre of light, and I was the 
fallen ruins, waiting to become stardust in your iron veins — 
the summer of 2017, you were walking down the hallway and 
you said my name. I had, and still have, no idea how you knew 
who I was. The air smelled like thyme. In the fourth dimension 
the linear additivity of velocities no longer holds true. If there 
was something I was glad to have happened in this escape, it 
would’ve been you — standing next to me, with bird bodies that 
turned into ghosts; you, being my dying wish. Einstein 
suggested that birds may have used quantum physics in their 
migration process. Einstein’s last words were German 
words spoken to a nurse who didn’t know German at all.

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Fifi Wang merges math and relationships.

 Spacetime Is Defined as Any Mathematical Model

Kushan V. Mehta

Until now, humans have teetered on the edge of manipulating space and time. We seem to be coming closer and closer to taking the plunge. 


Humans continue to try to make sense of the odd reality we are thrust into every day when we open our eyes to the world around us. 

The people, the objects, the places that constitute our world are backed by three fundamental aspects: time, space, and interactions between people and objects. Questioning, altering, and desiring to manipulate these aspects is a constant in our lives. However enormous our reality appears to be, we are fundamentally limited by the finitude of physical resources, three-dimensional perception, and the linear progression of our reality. Humanity’s intent to manipulate space and time, therefore, stems from the desire to escape and expand these limitations to create more value with what we have. Until now, humans have teetered on the edge of manipulating space and time. As time progresses, we seem to be coming closer and closer to taking the plunge. 

When we think of “space,” cosmic graphics and outlandish depictions of starry nights often come to mind. But here, I am dwelling upon the broader term “space.” Space is not just the area around us but the very existence of matter. Space comprises the various dimensions that create our reality — the physical universe. But after the dot-com explosion and the rise of the Internet, this term is being redefined. The Internet is arguably a digital environment where people can meet others and engage in activities with them, completely cut off from the “actual” world. Doesn’t this fit the definition of space? With the rise of augmented reality (AR) and virtual reality (VR), we are taking this a step further and creating an entirely new dimension in which we can exist. Space is now not just a physical concept bound by the constraints of three dimensions. Rather, it includes an interactive and tactile environment that humans have created. In the near future, we may be able to buy things just by looking at them or exist and interact with people in three-dimensional simulations completely separate from our own world. Humans are continuously striving to add to and fine-tune the space that we have been given.

This desire to manipulate space comes from the need to expand our horizons. With an ever-increasing population, humanity seems to need more of everything. Creating a new dimension or adding to the space in which we exist allows us to break the confines of the physical world. For example, to create structures in the real world, we are dependent on limited resources like limestone. However, in VR and AR, we can simply create our own resources through lines of code to build unlimited structures. Manipulating space satisfies both the greed and need for unlimited physical space and, therefore, unlimited opportunities to interact with people and objects, even if they’re just lines of code. 

While we are increasingly altering and tinkering with space, time seems to be the paradox that humans haven't quite been able to grasp. Time is referred to as the only constant in life. From movies like The Matrix to various religions' perception of the passage of time, everyone seems to have their own take on what time actually is. Despite these differences, the one shared idea is that nobody yet has the power to maneuver time. Even the most powerful people on this planet, from the uber-wealthy to religious figureheads, eventually succumb to time. Hence, if one could control the seemingly uncontrollable passage of time, there would be virtually no bounds to their power. By manipulating time one could live forever, change the course of history, and rewrite fundamental events that shaped humanity into what it is today. By manipulating time, one could tailor and alter reality as they wish. As we humans successfully, and will to an ever greater extent, manipulate space, manipulating time would be the next step in the progression of our species. 

Interesting research in the field of time manipulation is underway but none seems promising. The closest we have gotten to altering time might be researching the phenomena of time dilation. Simply put, time dilation is the difference in the rate of time’s passage for two people in different environmental conditions, like a differing gravitational field. But these new understandings of time are again very feeble compared to the strides we have made in pushing the boundaries of space. The idea of pushing the boundaries of time threatens to wreak havoc on the way our society functions. If one is able to travel back in time, what happens to the present? Does the present change as a result of the past changing? Theories about parallel universes come to mind, though they sound both gimmicky and straight out of a sci-fi movie. It's safe to say that, as of now and for the foreseeable future, humans haven't been able to maneuver the fabric of time, and maybe that is for the better.

As more of these boundary-pushing advancements become a part of our daily lives, it is of utmost importance that we understand the cause and effect of our actions. Are magical glasses and interactive simulations truly the way forward, or are we dangerously implementing technologies whose full implications we don't yet grasp? Are limitless opportunities actually going to enhance the human experience? If we can spawn new homes in a matter of seconds and create virtually anything we fancy without the pressure of limited resources, will any of it have value? Or is the satisfaction of possessing material things only based on material scarcity? It would be naive to assume our motives are purely philosophical. Our desire may stem from the vain and narcissistic view that the world is humanity’s playground and we can play in it however we want to. Further, many say that altering our reality is just a form of escapism. In today’s world, humanity faces countless issues like war, climate change, loneliness, and more. It’s natural for us to want to run away from it all. Altering our reality would allow us to live in an illusion where none of these issues exist. 

An important aspect to consider is the fact that, if we do manipulate space and time effectively, the power will impact people disproportionately. The ability to manipulate space and time will undoubtedly lie in the hands of the few people who have the resources and wealth to do so. It's safe to say that not all these people will have the best interests of everyone at heart. History tells us that too much power possessed by too few people always results in disastrous outcomes. The greatest fault of the advancements we are making is that they are often driven not by the desire to help humanity at large but by the greed for helping ourselves as individuals. Humans’ inherent nature is to always look after ourselves first, and maybe that’s why manipulating these aspects of our reality might not have the best outcomes. Perhaps we as individuals are just not suited to wield this much power. 

In conclusion, humans try every day to find and create more value in the world. With the help of new technology, we are now at the point of creating an entirely new reality for ourselves without fully understanding the workings of the one we are in right now. With countless real-world conflicts and pressing issues that plague today's generations, maybe humanity needs to reflect on whether our new advancements hold meaning. Will they better our world or further worsen existing power dynamics? Are they really a part of the noble quest for the betterment of humanity? Or are they just a form of escapism to run away from the host of problems we have created in our world right now? A better understanding of these aspects will surely make our advancements toward manipulating time and space more beneficial to all of us.

In a KidSpirit Big Question article, teen writer Kushan Mehta explores our ability to manipulate time and space.

Why and to What Extent Do Humans Push the Limits of Time and Space? 

Lucca Carlevarini

I never imagined myself being interested in space. But that was about to change.

The sheer vastness, along with the trillions upon trillions of objects in the many billion galaxies of the universe, is almost incomprehensible to the human brain. Learning about one of these great mysteries, dark matter, sparked a realization about myself and changed my life. 

When I was seven, I heard of dark matter during my first visit to the Rose Center for Earth and Space. I had always been told I should be a scientist. My interest in life and curiosity was constantly growing, and I loved to create experiments. Though I loved science, I never thought about becoming an astronomer. I wanted to be a biologist and was quite passionate about nature. I never imagined myself being interested in space, let alone wanting to be an astronomer or aerospace engineer. But that was about to change.

​At the Rose Center for Earth and Space, I saw the broad notion of space. I saw exciting ideology in this venture, observed exciting experiments, and found a newfound desire to conquer space that I would eventually take home with me. I was immediately captivated by the massive planets and amazing astronauts who ventured into the lonely abyss called space. I was alarmed by just how small I seemed to be. However, I was almost comforted to know that there were things far more extensive than I.

At one point, I was lost in the museum; my brother had wanted to get a toy from the gift store, and as we were traveling through the halls, I had let go of my mother's hand. One minute she was there, and the next, she was gone. I knew to stay put, but something caught my eye. Beautiful images of Saturn plastered the walls. I let my hand trail along the curves and bumps of the planet as I imagined myself running through the gas giant's hills, playing in its orange sand. As the images faded, my fantasy did too, and I realized I was far from where I had decided to stay. I panicked, but before I retraced my steps, I heard my mom calling out for me. I ran into my mother's arms, and she told me we would be going to a planetarium. 

​The planetarium was enormous and, at first, pitch black. The dark room was almost mysterious; as we got into our seats, suspense filled the air. We waited for what felt like an eternity, and finally, planets and stars enveloped the space and danced around us. Music flooded the room, and soon a booming voice explained that we weren't seeing the whole story. I was on the verge of succumbing to sleep, but the images shifted before I could enter a different type of abyss. The blobs on the screen didn't interest me at first, and I was partially annoyed that I hadn't fallen asleep, but they rapidly caught my attention. The voice explained that they were dark matter, an invisible but powerful substance. My eyes lit up, and I fell in love. 

Dark matter is composed of particles that don't reflect, absorb, or emit light, so they can't be detected by analyzing electromagnetic radiation. Dark matter cannot be seen directly. Scientists speculate that dark matter may be the reason for the unexplained movements of stars. Dark matter cannot be seen, but it can be felt because of its substantial impact on space. Dark matter has gravitational force, meaning it attracts other matter toward it. There's so much dark matter that its gravitational pull is enough to hold entire galaxies together, like our Milky Way.

It's funny. I could almost relate to dark matter. Having an extremely outgoing younger brother made me feel invisible. I was often praised for being quiet and not kicking up too much of a stir, which made me introverted, scared that people would be disappointed or annoyed if I did speak up or was too loud. As a result, I would often make walls between myself and my peers; I would hide how I felt and put on masks. Even though dark matter is invisible, it is strong, and it still makes shifts and directly affects the things around it. I realized I could be introverted and quiet, and still be strong. 

My experience at the planetarium was terrific. I wrote papers and went to multiple museums that included dark matter in the exhibits. Afterward, I continued to be interested in space and dark matter. I found out about the program Discovering the Universe, which taught you not only about space but also how to control spaceships, use the projectors, and calculate the distance of stars in the planetarium. My final project in this program was my own presentation in the Rose Center for Earth and Space on black matter projected on the planetarium. After succeeding, I gained confidence in myself and validation that the path I chose was the correct one.

​Inspiration can come in many forms and can jump out at you at any time. My day at the Rose Center for Earth and Space inspired me to explore aerospace engineering. I love everything there is to learn about the field, and I strive to succeed. For those who haven't yet, I hope you find your inspiration or the thing that makes you live life to the fullest.

In a KidSpirit Awesome Moments article, teen writer Lucca Carlevarini shares how a trip to the planetarium opened her eyes to dark matter and her inner strength.

Dark Matter

Jasmine Xu

Her blurry fingers caress
The years. The months. 
Days. Minutes. Seconds.
Slipping. Sliding. Fading away
Down the cracks of the void.


Across the void
Only to realize
That I fall
down. 
down.
down.
She pulls me. 
Inescapable. No escape. Nil. 

O naivety! Spiteful ignorance!
You trick me — sly thing
To conquer the unconquerable
To outrun the inevitable —

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Jasmine Xu tries to outrun time.

Across the Void

Riya Sikka

Every flower blooms in spring
Spring always gives me the emotion to sing
This season gives birth to a newborn flower
In this season it is always the blossom hour
Spring always has the sun shining bright
It is time to hold your loved ones tight

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Riya Sikka pens an ode to spring.

Spring

Paisley Cooke

As a kid,
One can’t experience the world
With infinite knowledge
Instead, dreams that have swirled

Dreams that have swirled
Into an imagination of light
Light like the stars
That glow through the night

As nights fly by,
So does a life
At the blink of an eye,
Time cuts a childhood like a knife

Envy floods the child at the stars
With a heart that never felt love
Or never felt the warmth
That radiated from the stars above.

Distance from family
Can make a child become bait
To being trapped in their own space
But the stars will always wait

Gliding along the stars,
The child puts their faith in the sky 
And wastes their never-ending childhood away 
Wishing for some hope of a family to at least wish their life goodbye.

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Paisley Cooke contemplates the stars through the eyes of a child.

One With the Stars

Iman Monnoo

The narrative of those who tell us to focus on getting a good job or getting into a good university always seems to clash with those who tell us to enjoy our youth and not worry about adulthood. 

"Carpe diem. Seize the day, boys. Make your lives extraordinary. " 
- John Keating, Dead Poets Society  

To many watching this film for the first time, this quote sticks out as one of the most notable; the way one phrase, “carpe diem,” was illustrated as having the power to make lives  “extraordinary.” 

My father, a 40-something businessman from Lahore, Pakistan, was watching the film with me, and when the students stood up on the tables at the end, so too did we  stand up, except this time on cinema chairs, hair decked with popcorn garlands, laughing because in that moment we were part of the protest, part of living in the moment. To me, my father seems the embodiment of carpe diem. A physical manifestation of an ocean of possibilities with no restraints or cares for the next hour or year.  

It seems humorous when I look at the match between him and my mother. A dichotomy of  present and future living under the same roof. Where my mother wants us to study hard and  constantly ensures we enroll in activities beneficial for our college applications, my father takes a  more relaxed approach and preaches having fun over any other form of fulfillment. For their  children, this places us in a bit of a gray area — unable to focus entirely on simply living our lives and unable to put our current lives on hold to better our futures. To my mother, life should be  about setting goals and living to achieve them. To my father, life should be a journey to find  yourself without worrying about where you end up.  

The challenge establishes itself in deciding which rule of law you want to abide by.  Personally, I find achieving a balance should be prioritized; yet the narrative of those who tell us to focus on getting a good job or getting into a good university always seems to clash with those who tell us to enjoy our youth and not worry about adulthood. To a mere child, the struggle to choose whom to listen to can become overwhelming. After all, how can someone so young bear the responsibility of deciding whether to leave the future up to fate, or  whether sacrificing time in the present is more important to ensure a stable future? 

The battle to find a balance in life is an idea which in itself has confounded even the ancient  poets. In fact, it was the Roman poet, Horace, who is attributed with the idea of carpe diem, with the phrase coming to stand for Horace’s entire injunction. However, this phrase originated from a darker perspective: the notion that one needed to live in the present because there was no telling what the future could hold (given that survival itself was never guaranteed in 23 BCE). Horace expanded upon how taking advantage of every day was necessary to live a life full of joy and excitement; his primary thought was that self-fulfillment could only come from valuing life and the blessings that come  with it: 

The envious moment is flying now, now, while we’re speaking:  
Seize the day, place in the hours that come as little faith as you can. 
- Horace 

The more modern interpretation of the phrase takes on a complicated nature. Nowadays, in the wake of modern medicine and technology, one wonders if it is still better to value day-to-day life  over the future.  

John Keating would argue that yes, it is; even if it’s more likely that one is able to live until old  age, it is still important to value life. Being able to experience every aspect the world has to offer,  or at least try to, should be more important than any kind of monetary success that is valued in the world.  

The idea of valuing the future more than the present is also based on the premise that life itself is  temporary. The only true differentiating factor comes with how to deal with the finality of life.  To people like my mother, the ephemeral nature of life is precisely the reason we should  strive to do all we can with it. Those who end up as spearheads of climate change movements, women’s rights activists, or changemakers in the world tend to be the most quoted  examples when trying to motivate children to adopt a future-centric lifestyle. Take the example of  Greta Thunberg and how she began school strikes for climate change at age 15 — her goal of  ensuring a better future is one people including Disha Ravi in India and Xiye Bastida in the United States agreed with as they, too, took to organizing their own strikes.  

Aside from climate change activists, athletes like Bianca Andreescu also advocate for this kind of  mindset: at just 19 years old, this Canadian tennis player defeated Serena Williams in the 2019  U.S. Open. For her, visualizing and working toward a goal (particularly when it comes to training) is a way of life. Andreescu herself even shared after her win how, for years, she would  close her eyes and envision herself winning the match.  

Still, it is important not to neglect either side of the argument altogether. After all, the  future cannot exist without the present, and all actions in the present impact the future. Therein  lies the need for finding balance. As the saying goes, we should “stop and smell the flowers”  occasionally so life does not pass us by. However, we must also be mindful to not forgo our  future. Taking time out to avoid overburdening ourselves whilst also working toward established  goals may be a good pathway to follow, especially because it encourages one to look at both sides of the spectrum and recognize the pros and cons of valuing the present or the future.  

But even if the future is not certain, no philosopher or poet can set in stone how an ideal life  should be lived. And with that knowledge, all that we can say for sure is that our lives are ours to  live.  

Couto, Melissa. "Canada’s Bianca Andreescu Says Meditation, Visualization Formed Winning Mindset." Global News, September 8, 2019. https://globalnews.ca/news/5873474/bianca-andreescu-mindset/

Horace. "Carpe Diem." Odes 1:11. https://www.poetrynook.com/poem/bkixi-carpe-diem. 

In a KidSpirit Feature article, teen writer Iman Monnoo weighs whether to seize the day or prepare for the future.

To Live or to Plan?

Polina Usenko

We try to track time 
And explore space, 
People solve the crime 
And take part in a race. 

Someone wants to turn back time, 
Others wish to spend it fine. 
Write some lines to make them rhyme 
Which may cheer you up and make you smile. 

Look up high into the sky — 
Enjoy the grace of unlimited space, 
Make your progress — not a mess, 
Life is great, we should confess!

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Polina Usenko explores how we use the time we are given.

Progress

Adina Gerwin

In many ways, Judaism as a whole is a celebration of time. 

We sanctify and mark passages in time with the acute awareness that every moment is uniquely precious. There is a framework to life, a structure every day, every week, every season, every year. While that might seem daunting or even a little overbearing, this framework of time is a prime example of the richness being observantly Jewish brings to life. 

A famous Jewish scholar, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, described the teachings of Judaism as learning "how to consecrate sanctuaries that emerge from the magnificent stream of a year." Judaism instructs us how to complete the essential yet difficult task of marking and commemorating the plentiful river of events that every year and every lifetime contains. This challenging job of deciding which moments, days, and hours in life deserve to be singled out has already been completed for us. Even in the rare moments when an important life event does not have religious instruction, it's easy to apply the same knowledge and therefore find a meaningful way to celebrate or simply mark that passage in time. Personally, I find this really special because it relieves a lot of pressure around trying to best commemorate or celebrate something and instead adds richness to the year. In short, while completing the lifelong search for meaning and holiness, Judaism places an important emphasis on time. 

On the most basic, routine level, there is daily prayer. Every morning we mark the beginning of consciousness by thanking God. As we pray, we thank God for "removing sleep from our eyes and slumber from our eyelids." We recite the Hebrew words, 

 ברּוְך ַ אָּתה יְיָ ֱ אֹל ֵהינּו ֶ מ ֶלְך ָ העֹו ָל ַ ם הַּמֲע ִב ָירה ֵׁשנָ ֵ ה מ ֵעינַי ּו ְתנּו ָמ ֵ ה מ ַע ְפ

While this might seem like a tedious and unimportant marker in time, the act of deliberately giving thanks helps ground us and set a daily intention. The day is much more meaningful when we understand its importance and value in the grand scheme of time. Furthermore, it's not just the act of marking every morning; it's the specific ritual that starts the day. Judaism teaches us to routinely give thanks for the removal of slumber and the opening of one's eyelids. Praying helps humble me and forces me to be aware of all of the things I take for granted on a daily basis. This expression of gratitude for a specific bodily function is an important daily reminder of all the precious ways our bodies serve us. 

Another series of things we say daily is the blessing of food before eating. We mark the moment before nourishment with a prayer. Every prayer varies depending on where the food comes from, and it's not just a careless expression of gratitude. Instead, we are taking time out of our day to acknowledge an essential gift to the body: nourishment and fuel. These daily rituals help us mark constant moments in time and add intentionality to our daily routines. 

Perhaps the most commonly practiced Jewish sanctification of time is the Sabbath or Shabbat. Every week, we mark the seventh day by exchanging the rules of chaos we live under during the regular week for a new set of divine instructions. This comes from the belief that, while creating the world, God rested on the seventh day, and God themselves separated this day from the rest of the week. Every Shabbat ritual is designed to create a process in which we find holiness by marking and singling out this unique day. As Rabbi Heschel put it, "on the Sabbath we try to become attuned to holiness in time." Shabbat is the constant search for holiness and the meaning behind the divine creation of time. On this seventh day, we stop all work, abstaining from technology and everyday tasks like cooking. Although it can be challenging, I love Shabbat because it forces me to stop and take a rest from the chaos of life. There will always be more work to do, a constant stream of emails to write, food to cook, and math problems to solve. I think that having Shabbat and the ability to abstain from all that chaos keeps me sane and is really wonderful and special. I truly believe that the greatest gift God or Judaism gives me is this weekly break and would not want to live a life without ever being able to fully pause from technology and various everyday tasks. Moreover, the conversations I have on Shabbat tend to be the most intimate, interesting, and best of the whole week, because there are no distractions like technology or school work. These rituals allow us to both commemorate another week in life, and in many ways, put a stop to time. The separation of the day, search for holiness, and observance of a different set of divine instruction allows the Jewish Sabbath to become a unique bubble of sanctity and serenity. 

Many personal life events happen suddenly and are not a part of the progression of established holidays in the ritual year. For example, one of the saddest but inevitable parts of life is death. We can't often plan ahead for death, and we don't need to, because Judaism teaches what to do and how to approach this sudden sad time. We commemorate these movements by saying specific prayers, lighting special candles (Yahrzeit candles), and other various traditions. Moreover, we observe multiple mourning periods, depending on the familial closeness to the deceased. The most frequent one is called shiva, which consists of a week-long mourning period for first-degree relatives. The deceased's family members generally stay at home and are visited by friends and loved ones bringing condolences, comfort, and food. There are also many specific rituals like reciting certain prayers, covering mirrors, or tearing one's clothing that help establish the moment of mourning and this tumultuous period in time. When both of my grandmothers died and I experienced shiva, I learned many concepts, including one about the importance of showing up and how important community support is. A week-long marking in time allows for the news to spread and provides a place for people from all different parts of the community or the deceased's life to show up and offer support. I also like the way that shiva forces you to mourn and and actually take time, at least a week, to heal and grieve. Furthermore, I cannot imagine having the tremendous pressure of deciding how to mourn and honor a loved one. Having to choose things to say or commemorative events to have seems like a tremendous burden, in an already very difficult time. These specific Jewish practices and traditions help not only mark an extremely unpredictable and sad event, but also provide a lot of meaning and support to the people going through that kind of difficult life event. 

An important related example of applying Jewish rituals to sudden and very unpredictable events happened almost 75 years ago. This is the ending of the Holocaust and the creation of Holocaust Memorial Day. When given a day to figure out how to commemorate the mass genocide of our people, we already had the instructions of how to mourn. Many of the rituals done, prayers said, and traditions observed on that day are taken directly from shiva and Jewish mourning practices, thus removing any burden or pressure around choosing how to perfectly commemorate. There was a straightforward way to mark this terrible moment in history, and every year we carve out time to remember. 

Jewish law also provides the tools to create new markings in time for joyful events. For instance, while Judaism does not instruct how to celebrate a college or high school graduation, it has a clear message about joy and how to celebrate a happy occasion, or a simcha in Hebrew. On various holidays like Purim, Simchat Torah, or even Shabbat, we are taught about traditions relating to alcohol, noise, music, food, dance, and simply how to be joyful. One of my favorite traditions around joy is having something called a Purim seudah, which is basically a big meal with lots of different foods, special songs, and cheers, and just learning how to gather around a table and connect with others in a really joyful way. In the same way that we mark this holiday of Purim with a feast and celebration, we can easily take those concepts and traditions behind a seudah and apply them to a high school or college graduation. 

Judaism is full of exciting and important traditions that all serve a specific purpose and add deep meaning to life. These rituals help us mark time and answer the essential question of which life events deserve to be singled out and, if so, how we should mark them. We are all just trying to find meaning in the grand scheme of time, and for observant Jews, religious tradition and laws can do just that.

In a KidSpirit Interfaith Connections article, teen writer Adina Gerwin explains how Judaism has taught her to celebrate and appreciate time. 

Finding Meaning: Judaism and Time 

Alexis Morquecho Ramirez

The sea waves are calm and slow
Just like that man by the seashore
He dances and dances with the waves
The mysterious man I visit every day
I still do not know his name
How can somebody so poor have so much?
Because he knows he was given wealth
Something that is much bigger than money
And what is that, you may ask?
Well, it’s the gift of happiness
I decided to go talk to him
But as soon as I blinked
He disappeared
Traveling through the beach searching
For him, but there was no trace 
The mysterious man had vanished into thin air
I went there every day trying to find him
I hope I see that man again
The mysterious man I had visited every day

The Mysterious Man

Craig Callender

You reading this is what’s really happening, right? If that familiar fact is wrong, many deep questions follow. 

Perhaps my earliest memory of thinking about time and space is of reading the gentle Super Friends comic book series as a 10-year-old boy. 

In issue #8 — which I still have — the Super Friends find themselves in a terrible predicament: the evil Grax has distributed bombs all over the Earth and they have only 26 minutes to stop them. To find so many bombs so quickly, the heroes divide up the task. I guess the Red Tornado drew the short straw, because he is charged with finding a bomb that has fallen into a time shift. The bomb might be in the past, present, or future. 

Quickly the Red Tornado goes to New Zealand to enlist the aid of Tuatara, a meta-human with a third eye. Tuatara dramatically introduces himself. He tells us that two eyes let us see in 3D, and then he opens his third eye, informing us that it allows him to see in 4D, where the fourth dimension is time. Using his third eye, he locates Grax’s bomb 120 million years in the past. Red Tornado travels back in time, battles dinosaurs, and disarms the bomb. The Earth is saved.

This idea of seeing the past, present, and future all at once is not new. The so-called Second Buddha, Padmasambhava, aka Guru Rinpoche, is said to have been able to perceive it all, too. Using this ability, legend has it that he sprinkled his teachings in hidden places where they will emerge when they are most needed. He is alleged to have seen times of need like Tuatara could find bombs scattered through time. 

Put aside the idea of perceiving all of time at once. That’s kind of silly. However, the thought behind Tuatara’s and Guru Rinpoche’s ability presupposes a way time could be. The philosophical position known as eternalism says that the past, present, and future all exist. According to this view, we can’t see all of time, just as we cannot see all of space, but it nonetheless exists. You may not be in San Diego and so cannot see it. But I’m in it right now and can assure you that it exists. According to eternalism, other times — like that of your birth — likewise exist, even if your current self isn’t there. I didn’t know this view of time when I was 10 years old, but you can still see the idea. 

Only later did I learn that one can find this view of time in ancient texts worldwide and even in contemporary science. Many believe that Albert Einstein’s theory of relativity implies that eternalism is true. Relativity doesn’t mention a special present or need to do so. And in fact it allows for the possibility, in some sense, of time travel. So one could tell a story like the Red Tornado’s in a relativistic spacetime.

If eternalism or something like it holds, it challenges the most familiar of all facts — that only the present seems to exist. You reading this is what’s really happening, right? If that familiar fact is wrong, many deep questions follow. Is the flow of time an illusion? Why do we think the present is special if it’s not? If my death “already” exists, do I still have free will? And should I still be afraid of dying if I’m nonetheless going to exist on the “block” of existence anyway? Here we see how a theory of time immediately invites many puzzling important questions.

That’s what I love about studying time and space. They’re in your face in the most familiar and ordinary way. A class in school takes an hour, and the salt on the table is two feet to the left. Yet as soon as you start thinking about them, they become mysterious. Saint Augustine really put his finger on this all the way back in 400 AD when he famously wrote,“What then is time? If no one asks me, I know; if I want to explain it to a questioner, I do not know.” What he is saying is that time is at once the most familiar and yet strange thing. This gulf between the familiar and strange is what attracts me to time. I’m not sure if the Super Friends adventures stayed with me and influenced what I worked on later, but I’ve always been drawn to time.

Yet space, too, is really perplexing. Augustine’s famous quote about time could also have been about space. Space couldn’t be more familiar. To pass the salt at dinner my hand needs to extend across some space. But what does it mean for my hand to extend through space?  Here are three famous ideas. 

Isaac Newton, the father of classical physics, thought space is a substance, a genuine independently existing entity. We move through it a bit like a fish moves through water. The fish is oblivious to water because water is everywhere for it, just as space is everywhere for us. In this view, space is a little bit like water. 

The philosopher Gottfried Leibniz, by contrast, held that space is instead a network of relations amongst physical objects. That sounds complicated, but this picture of space reminds me of another childhood pursuit from back in the 1970s, the game Tinker Toy. Tinker Toys were construction sets where one built structures with wood sticks that fit into circular nodes. In Leibniz's view, the nodes are the objects (like me, you, a computer, a ball) and the network of sticks is space.

Another great philosopher, Immanuel Kant, held that space is constructed by us, that it is a kind of filter we impose on the world to make sense of experience. In the book version of the Wizard of Oz, the Emerald City looks green because everyone is forced to wear glasses with green-tinted lenses. Kant’s view is more complicated than that, of course, but the idea is something like that for space: everything is spatially located because that’s how your mind must process things.

The three views are each counter-intuitive and massively different from one another. In one space is like water, in another it’s like Tinker Toys, and in a third it’s like tinted glasses. If you removed all the objects in the universe, space would still exist, according to Newton. For Leibniz, however, no objects, no space. For Kant, you need creatures with minds. These three views are so different! Yet one of them may be the correct way of understanding the spatial distance through which your hand passes salt to another person.

All of these questions lead to rich research programs in both science and philosophy. Many are exotic and exciting and controversial. And yet it all begins with the most familiar of facts, that we persist through time and extend through space.

In a KidSpirit PerSpectives article, philosopher of science Craig Callender explores theories of time and space.

What Are Time and Space?

Global Youth Voices

Welcome to Fiction, a brand new KidSpirit department! In this inaugural collaborative series, young writers around the world craft stories about the issue’s theme joined by an opening and closing sentence. Like many of the tales that shape our lives, these pieces flow into each other, creating a narrative that links contributors across time and space. 

She woke up in a bath of warm dawn. Even though it didn’t seem like there was any sort of heat, for it was dark with sprinkles of stars and planets standing by in the distance, her purple, spotted cheeks were tinted pink, and her skin was glazed with sweat. 

She never woke up hurried or bothered. Her downturned chesnut eyes would slip open, sleep glazing over her irises, her full lips slipping into a grin. 

Each morning, she rose alone and drifted to her other room in her ship to start work. Her long, dark hair would be twisted up into a clip, she’d crack her knuckles, and she’d give her long legs a stretch before she sat down on her pallet. 

If she wanted, she’d put on some music. She played music from an old record player she had found years and years ago, and buzz echoed in each song played, but the dull yet romantic jazz always made her do work with a smile. 

She spent her days sorting, organizing, taking notes, and planning. 

She took care of the universe and all its parts. 

Every day, from 8 a.m to 5 p.m, she’d sit down and plan it all out. She’d scan over important figures in time, look over massacres and study them, and make sure everyone was generally in their places before she’d commence time once more. Pausing and starting, pausing and starting — like an extremely complex TV show.

There were too many people to know, so she tried to hit the high points. Her favorite, although not the most well known, was Dolly Parton. Admittedly, she’d sometimes look ahead in Mrs. Parton’s life and make sure that she’d never break a bone, get in a car accident, things like that — which was virtually harmless in the grand scheme of things. 

Less fun parts about her job were studying wars, apocalypses, or any violent accident that would turn the course of the universe. It was hard to watch, to pause and take notes, and then have to press play once more. She tried not to dwell on it too much.

She had a planner to keep track of her days. She had gone through many. Bookshelves upon bookshelves were filled with her planners, keeping track of every few hundred years or so. 

One day, however, when she clipped up her hair, cracked her knuckles, and stretched her legs to sit down on her pallet and start the day’s work, she heard an awful, blood-curdling ringing sound echo through the halls of the ship. 

She had no idea what it was — all she could hear was a tring tring, tring tring . . . 

She couldn’t reach the phone, so she was curious who was calling. She drank a cup of coffee, then she continued her life by getting ready for school. 

She opened the door to start walking to school but she was shocked by what she saw: her house floating in space between the stars and planets. She thought of pinching herself to see if it was a dream, but she didn’t, because of how fascinating the view was. She realized that she should have fun in this once-in-a-lifetime moment, so she started jumping on the planets like they were rocks in a pond.

 The time went by fast, so she was tired.

 The girl went back home and was amazed by the view of the planets and how much fun she’d had. She slept, trying to understand what had happened.

The phone started ringing again, like an alarm telling her to wake up and use her time properly, telling her that she should spend it on something that she enjoyed, not on something useless. She learned to find the good in things, not the bad.

She woke up and started telling her mom what happened in her dream. Her mom said . . .    

“Hold on,” and looked up, placing her crossword puzzle on the table in front of her. She took off her glasses and Charlotte noticed her narrowed eyes. “Did you say you dreamt that your father returned?” 

“Yea, I know it’s impossible but it was a nice dream to have. He gave me this big hug and —”

“No, no, no, hold on.” Her mom’s eyes were wide now, as if the exhaustion from her long week at work had lifted, replaced by pure horror. “Did you say he came through our chimney?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Yes. Were you even listening?” Ever since her father had died 14 months earlier, her mom had been distant. She worked extra hours and, when she was home, she wouldn’t pay any attention to Charlotte, focused too heavily on her phone, puzzles, and whatever else would distract from her misery. 

“He fell through the chimney while ‘Hooked on a Feeling’ blasted from the kitchen.” Charlotte smiled softly, lost in thought about the days her dad would come home from work and play his favorite song, yelling “Ooka-Chaka Ooga-Ooga” as her mom shushed him, hiding her own giggle. “Then, he stood up, fixed his tie, and like I said, gave me this big hug and . . . ” 

Charlotte paused. Her mother’s face had lost color and she was holding the table, as if to keep herself from collapsing on the floor. 

“What? Are you okay?” Charlotte rushed toward her mom. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought it was kind of a nice dream actually.”

KidSpirit's first Fiction piece is a set of linked short stories by kids around the world. Journey with them through time and space.

The Big Question

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Poetry

PerSpectives

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