My mother’s name is Cass. It’s short for Cassandra, but I think my dad has always overlooked that fact. He calls her his Queen, and that’s not a cute pet name; it’s an astronomy reference. Cassiopeia was the Queen of Aethiopia in Ancient Greek mythology. She was renowned for her beauty, but that’s where her comparison to my mother ends. The real Cassiopeia was vain and boastful, claiming that she and her daughter Andromeda were more beautiful than the Nereids, sea nymphs born to the God of the Sea, Poseidon. Of course, the gods of the Greeks never take kindly to being second best at anything, so Poseidon sent a huge sea monster called Cetus to take Andromeda in order to even the score. She ended up being saved by Perseus on a flying horse, yada-yada, and Casseiopeia was then thrust into the sky on her throne by Poseidon, condemned to spending half of the year upside down (as if that was supposed to make her less beautiful). 

My dad likely never would’ve noticed my mom if not for her name. The compelling reference to a story from the sky caught his attention, and her major in Ancient History with a focus in mythology basically confirmed their engagement on the spot. I think they were happy together once. After all, my dad was a striking astrophotographer with a surprisingly vast list of contacts that helped him create Lil’ Astro. “Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.” My dad lived by that quote from his favorite astronomer, Carl Sagan, who died when I was young. I think he was always searching for that incredible thing, even after the comet. Maybe he found it in my mother once, but those days are long past now. He never could stay put on one thing for very long. 

My mother ran the observations at Lil’ Astro’s observatory ever since I could remember. It always made her smile, and as a kid some of my best memories were because of her passion for the constellations and their stories. She let my dad be the cool guy, the one with all the complex answers and constant search for discovery, while she remained comfortable in a casual love for looking up at night. 

“I think it’s the most fascinating form of art,” she told me once. “To look up at lights in the darkness and make sense of them, not just in a practical way, but also in an artistic way. People often criticize the constellations for being confusing or inaccurate. But that is the best form of expression, to force the audience to think in order to understand. These stars are so much more than shapes or even stories; they are the foundation of our world as we know it written in a foreign language no longer spoken. It’s truly beautiful.”

“What about Dad’s pictures?”

She smiled at me. “They’re beautiful too, of course. There’s just something special about the fact that the stars we can see at night are for everyone. Your father tries to bring the beauty of the universe to as many people as possible, but he will never be able to reach everyone. The stars do what we never will be able to do: connect every person with the undeniable fact that we are all a part of the same universe.”

I gave her words a few seconds of thought, but at my young age I didn’t fully realize their profound effect. I thought it was so much cooler to look at things that nobody else could see. As interesting  as the constellations were, I thought they couldn’t be special to me if they were special to everyone else as well. That felt boring to me. I really took after my father, especially then. 

When I was twelve, my parents got divorced. They still cared for each other, but I think my mom was tired of single parenting in a remote town that adored my father and often overlooked her silent efforts. She never got angry with him, never criticized his work, but as so many do, she fell out of touch with her connection to the universe and suddenly it all seemed far too confusing to be worth it. I wasn’t supposed to hear their last conversation, but I held a hand up to the door anyways and caught their quiet goodbye. 

“New York City? Cass, that feels like heresy.”

“I can’t get a job in many places. I’m lucky your contacts got me into the New York Public Library; there’s research, there’s history, and it’ll be good for me. I’m not doing it in some grand act of defiance against you, I’m sure you know that.”

“I know. But what about Finn?”  

She sighed. “You know he’s too young to be left unattended like he would be here. It’s too much for him to get to school alone.” My father didn’t reply. “He won’t forget you, Ray. You’re everything to him.”

There was silence for a moment. “Don’t let the city blind you.”

“It never could,” my mom said. “Not after everything we’ve seen here.”

“Goodbye, Cassandra.”

“Goodbye, Raymond.”

It was the first time I’d ever heard him say her real name. That moment reminded me of a story from mythology that my mom loved to tell about a famous constellation, Orion. 

“Most people can recognize the distinctive pattern of Orion’s belt, the three stars in a row. If you look on both sides of the belt you can see the full shape of the hunter in the sky. Now, Orion was a giant. He was a renowned hunter and wished to accompany Artemis, the goddess of the hunt. Artemis was hesitant because she and her eternal maidens were sworn against the company of men. But Orion promised he would respect their path and his skill as a hunter earned him entrance to her hunt.  Soon, though, Orion fell in love with Artemis. The two had become very close and Artemis had a profound respect for him. When he revealed his affection for her, Artemis shunned him, maintaining her oath. In an attempt to prove himself, Orion went on a hunting spree, killing hundreds of animals and boasting of his conquest to Artemis. Enraged at his waste of sacred animals, Artemis sent a scorpion to kill Orion. The gods took pity on the giant, placing him in the sky with his hunting dogs following him across the sky, Scorpius not too far behind.”

Greek mythology was never a truly happy story. The goddess to never have a close relationship with a man finally finds someone she thinks she can connect with, but she’s forced to take drastic measures because of his actions. A Queen loves her daughter so much that she inspires the wrath of a god. It always gave me the same feeling of paradoxical sadness when I thought of how the stars are thousands of light years away, many of them probably already dead, yet still they could have such an impact. Two people fall in love with each other and with the sky, but it’s their shared love that pushes them apart.

As my mom and I drove away from Lil’ Astro, the constellation Casseiopeia lingered just above the horizon in the dark summer sky, a Queen sadly looking down on us from her upside down throne. My mother cried silent tears. 

New York City was unlike anything I’d ever known. Blinding lights every hour of the day and night, honking cars, ever present noise in every direction. I’d never seen so many people in my life. As different as it was, though, I loved how alive it all felt. I know my mom felt it too because she started telling me stories of the history of New York, from the Dutch to the British and the Revolutionary War to the recent tragedy of 9/11. The cab ride to our new apartment was thrilling and terrifying. My mom had gone to school in Phoenix, same as my dad, but still we both pressed our faces against the taxi windows and watched the blurring lights rush by. It was the first time I remember feeling so alive and excited by anything other than astronomy. I couldn’t help but feel guilty; what would my dad think? What was he doing right now? I couldn’t even find one star in the light polluted sky, and my heart sank. How could I ever feel at home in a city with no stars? 

My mom accompanied me every day on the Subway to my new school. It was called Midtown West Middle School, and our mascot was the dragons. My mom loved that, and I’m sure that’s why she picked that school for me to attend, because it reminded her of the famous dragon Ladon that guarded the Garden of the Hesperides which held golden apples, the same dragon that guarded the golden fleece, was fought by Hercules and Athena, and was placed in the sky by the gods as the constellation Draco. I guess I kind of liked that too since it felt like a reminder of home. 

But adjusting to such a big school was difficult. My first day started as a pretty solid disaster. If it had been ranked like stars are, it would’ve been somewhere between a supergiant and a hypergiant, almost as big as cosmically possible. It began when I walked into the high school instead of the middle school. Everyone towered over me, and I thought at first that maybe that’s just how people in New York were, then I saw a couple making out against the lockers so I concluded that I was either in the wrong school or I would have to be a middle school drop out. When I made my way into the correct school, I walked into the office to get my schedule. My mom said she’d called ahead to make sure they knew I was new and could help me out, but it turned out that when they heard my name, Finn Lee, the old receptionist thought I was a girl named Kinley. 

“You’re a scruffy looking girl!” She declared in a scratchy New York accent when I walked into her office.

“I- I’m not a girl. My name’s Finn, my mom called yesterday.”

She scrunched her eyes. “You mean Kinley?”

“No… my name is Finn. Lee.” 

She huffed. “Well, alright then. Here’s your schedule. Let your teachers know you’re new and they can help you out.”

I took it from her hesitantly. “Thanks.”

She showed me off with her hand so I left the office and tried to locate my first class, English. The school was labyrinthian in size and complexity compared to the one in New Mexico. I was late to English by the time I found the class, and so I drew everyone’s attention when I walked in. 

“Hey, I’m new here, sorry,” I said. 

The teacher, a short, stern looking man with tiny glasses perched on his large nose, looked at me thoughtfully. “You’re not a girl,” he said finally. 

I sighed. This was going to be a long day. “No, my name is Finn.”

He stared at me for another moment. “Well, then. Take a seat.” 

I quickly found an empty desk and tried to ignore the laughs and whispers that spread throughout the class. I hated English, so when Mr. Nelson started going on about commas and sentence types, I started doodling all the constellations I knew. Ursa Major, Cassiopeia, Orion, Cygnus, Scorpius, Taurus, Perseus- Someone tapped my shoulder and I jumped into what I hoped looked like a listening position. I turned around discreetly. 

“Hey,” said the girl who had tapped me. “What are those?” She pointed at my paper. 

“Constellations.” 

She tilted her head. “Like the big dipper?”

“Actually, the big dipper isn’t a real constellation. It’s just a recognizable shape in the constellation Ursa Major, so it’s technically an asterism,” I replied. 

“Hm. Do you have the phoenix on there?” She asked. 

“I’ve never seen that one. It’s in the southern hemisphere.”

Her eyes widened. “The sky is different here than in Brazil?” 

I started to get nervous that the teacher would catch us talking. “Yes, a bit of it. Should we be talking right now?”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Mr. Nelson doesn’t notice anything during his lectures. He loves to talk.” Sure enough, he was still droning on. “I’m Rosa by the way. Rosa Almeida. Nice to meet another person who doesn’t have a darned New York accent.” She had long dark brown hair, light brownish orange eyes, and an air of excitement about her that was evident in her constant smile. She reminded me of a Carl Sagan quote my dad loved to say: “I don’t want to believe. I want to know.” She actually reminded me a lot of my father, having a contagious excitement about her. 

I grinned. “I’m Finn. You’re from Brazil?”

She nodded. “Moved here about four years ago now. Where are you from?”

“New Mexico. A tiny town.”

“Ah, so New York is pretty different?”

“Loads different,” I said. 

“I remember it was a lot for me too. Especially since I didn’t speak English very well yet, and everything being so bright and loud was overwhelming. But you get used to it. I’m happy to help with anything you need. The kids here aren’t too welcoming to outsiders. Especially if you sound different. But I’ve got a little gang of misfits that would be happy to take you in if you feel like it. There’s me, I’m from Brazil and I want to be a writer. There’s Kash, short for Kashmir, his parents are from India and he’s really into photography. Then there’s Lily, she’s wicked smart and really good at basketball but no one on the team likes that she gets higher test scores than them.”

I felt my jaw drop. My first day in a huge new city and I was being offered three friendships from some of the coolest people I could’ve imagined. “You want me to join your group? I don’t even have anything cool to bring to the table.”

She gestured at my paper. “You clearly know about things that none of us know. We don’t really get to see the stars here in the city.”

“I’m in.”

She grinned. “Welcome, amigo.”

Rosa helped me find my next classes, and I met Kash and Lily at lunch. Kash was a little shorter than me and was very talkative like Rosa. They often carried the conversation while Lily and I listened intently. Lily was very tall, wore her black hair in many tight little braids, and seemed much more reserved than the other two. They were all excited to hear my tales of a dark night sky painted with stars, but I didn’t tell them about my father or his comet. 

Even when Kash asked me “What’s the coolest thing you’ve ever seen?” I told her about the telescope in Lil’ Astro’s observatory that could see the rings of Saturn with remarkable clarity and not how it was also where my dad made the discovery of a lifetime. Somehow telling them felt like it would diminish the importance of that moment, just as it had when it was broadcast on national television. When I got home that night, I looked out of our apartment at the rushing lights and instead of feeling alive i’m the business, I felt empty. I missed the stars. I missed Ray. 

I told my mom a few months into school that I felt lonely. She seemed shocked. “But you have such lovely friends!”

“I know, and I love to learn new things with them, but they just don’t know a lot about me or what I like. They don’t understand the stars; Rosa’s the only one who’s ever really even seen them, and that was when she lived in Brazil.”

“Haven’t you told them about some of the things we did in Lil’ Astro?” 

“Well, yeah, I guess,” I mumbled. “It just kind of makes it less special though.”

“Finn Lee, don’t you ever say that.” I was startled by her serious tone. “I didn’t move us here to forget about our life in New Mexico. What’s beautiful about the sky is that it is both incredibly personal and impossibly universal. It is for everyone. I think you’ll find that sharing it with others only helps you feel more connected to it yourself.”

I looked at the ground, ashamed that I’d been holding back from my friends. “What about Dad? If I share this all with my friends, then what do I have left…?”

“Oh, honey,” She gave me a tight hug. “You will always have something special with your dad, all those hours you’ve spent learning from him. Sharing that with others is creating new experiences, not replacing old ones. He would be proud of you for teaching your friends what you know.”

“Do you think they’ll care?”

“I believe they will. I think all the best kinds of people can appreciate something about the universe, and your friends are very good people. Maybe you could even make a big difference in their life, showing them how much more is out there.” 

“I miss the stars, Mom.” 

She grabbed her keys off the counter. “C’mon, I’ll call a cab.”

“What? Where are we going?” She grabbed my coat and ran us out the door. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I’m sure if we drive far enough this cursed light bubble we’re in will disappear.”

I laughed. “Mom, that’s crazy!”

“You should know that I’m crazy by now.”

“All the best people are,” I said, and we both smiled at my use of the phrase my father used so often.

We got in a cab and we had the driver take us all the way past Long Island, to the Hallock State Park Preserve, what we figured would be the best sky we could get without making our trip last much longer than the hour and a half it had taken even to get here. Thankfully it was a clear night, albeit cold, but usually the two coincide. My mother had brought a blanket along and we laid it out in a field that had a great unobstructed view of the horizon and most of the sky, and then we just stared. It was amazing to me how different it felt, both from New Mexico and from the city. My mom and I identified every constellation we knew in the sky, but some of them took much longer as we couldn’t see every star that we were used to seeing. Even being this far from the city, we were missing so much. 

“It’s crazy,” I told my mom, “that there are millions of people that have never seen a sky as clear as this one. And it’s still not even close to everything that is possible to see without light pollution.”

“I know it seems crazy,” She replied. “But it probably seems more crazy to them how much this matters to you. I grew up in Phoenix, and I’d never seen a sky like this until I took my first astronomy class in university.”
“Wait, really?” My mom seemed to know so much about the stars; it seemed like it had to have been a part of her life forever, just as it had been for me. 

She laughed. “Yep. It was a major obstacle to overcome when I started dating your father. I knew that I thought space was cool, and I guess I’d had a bit more interest than most people, and I loved its role in history and mythology, but other than that, I didn’t have a whole lot of passion for it. Until I really started learning about it. So many simple facts are just absolutely mind blowing. I had always known that the stars were super far away, and I’m sure I knew what light years were, but I just remember sitting down with Ray and talking for almost an hour about the sheer size of the universe. He knew so much more than me, telling me about star systems and galaxies I had never heard of before. Still, it was so fascinating and captivating.”

I knew exactly what she meant. It was how I felt when my dad was teaching me. It seemed like the most important things in the world for me to be hearing, and being here with her reminded me of how much I wanted my friends to feel this same desire. “I think everybody would love the sky if they just found out how they connected with it. It seems like it can be really different for everybody.”

“Yes it can. I had a lot of really good friends take Astronomy courses with me in college and most of them never actually pursued anything with it as a career but they still said they absolutely loved it. It helped a lot of us through some really hard times. I think everybody needs to be able to step outside of themselves sometimes and see the vastness and beauty of the universe.” She sighed. “Finn, developing how you see the world is one of the most important tasks we have in our lives. It can be incredibly confusing.”

“And scary.” Sometimes when i thought about how tiny earth was compared to everything else in the universe, I got this overwhelming sinking feeling in my stomach. I felt my own insignificance, and it didn’t feel too good.

“And scary,” She agreed. “It’s hard to grasp what your role is in such a huge world, even when you don’t consider how much more is out there. But there is balance that comes in these things. We could not have importance here if there was not the counter of insignificance on the cosmic scale. It reminds us that we are responsible for what we do here, to our planet and to each other. Even if we are not alone in this universe, we have to live as such. Because without us, this planet is just another rock hurtling through space.”

“I guess that’s not so scary,” I said. “But it’s hard to think of it that way. Especially if you don’t know much.”

“There are a lot of ways to think of things, Finn. What I’ve found is you need to find the mindset that brings you the most peace at the end of the day. And from what I’ve seen, finding a way to step outside of yourself helps a lot in that process, wherever it leads you. That’s why the work that you and your father do is so important; you’re helping people. You really are.”

“I hope so.”

We laid there for hours, not speaking any more. I thought about what she had said. I finally understood why she had to leave Lil’ Astro and my father. It wasn’t her life, and it wasn’t what the sky meant to her. She had other dreams, and both she and my dad understood the importance of doing what you love the way you love it. I thought about what I loved. I knew it was the sky; how could I not? But how did I love it? What was my way? Somehow I knew the answer was more than just Lil’ Astro or New York City, more than my mom and dad, more than my friends, but something much bigger than other people’s hopes and dreams. I knew mine were out there, but right now the picture of my future felt like the constellations we saw that night: missing a few points, faded in places, and altogether, not quite complete. 

“Look, Draco is about to be out of our line of sight,” My mom said after a while. 

“Go Dragons,” I said sarcastically, but really I smiled at the thought that my school was related to something so distinct in the sky. The constellation was one of the first I learned, as it was part of the five circumpolar constellations in the northern hemisphere, meaning they never fully set below the horizon. I looked at the stars that formed the quadrilateral head of the dragon, and at that moment I knew exactly how I would teach my friends about the stars. 

The summer before Junior year, all my planning finally paid off. Rosa, Kash, Lily and I were going to Lil’ Astro for two weeks. My mom had been right; they each really loved learning what I knew about space, and all for vastly different reasons. Kash was the most excited for the trip because he could finally see how astrophotography worked. It was really hard to show him anything in New York because all I had was a small refracting telescope my father had given me before we left and any kind of real imaging required the hour and a half drive out to Hallock State Park. He was so intrigued the first time I showed him my telescope.
“Refractors,” I told him, “are generally used to see things that are pretty close to us. Like planets. They use a glass lens which bends light to a focal point, which is then viewed through the eyepiece at the bottom of the tube.”

I showed him how to set it up in my room, but the sky was far too cloudy for him to see what it could really do. It was pretty nice for a starter telescope, and it was a reasonable size as well. 

“That’s awesome,” he gushed. “Is that what your dad has, just bigger?”

“My dad does have a bigger refractor, yes, but they really can’t get too big since huge lenses get really heavy, and once they’re broken they can’t be fixed like a mirror could. The observatory back home is a huge reflective telescope; I think it’s 5 meters now. It was smaller before…”

“Before?”

“Before Lil’ Astro became a lot more well known. Then a lot of astronomers moved there or visited often enough to provide the funds to upgrade the telescope and adaptive optics system which allows for higher resolution.”

“Awesome,” he said. 

It was our freshman year by then, and I still hadn’t told them about my father’s comet. But I knew I should. 

“Kash, you know how I said my dad helped found Lil’ Astro?”

“Yeah, that’s so cool. What about it?”

“That’s not exactly all he did.” I sighed. “When I was ten, my dad discovered a new comet. When he was photographing the Lagoon Nebula, he noticed there was an object that moved a lot between each image. He did the calculations, submitted them to the International Astronomical Union, and boom. The RayLee comet. If I thought he was busy before, it was nothing compared to after that. The discovery gave his astrophotography a lot more attention and he was always out managing the town or taking pictures of the sky after that.” 

Kash stared at me with his jaw on the floor. “Finn, your dad discovered a comet and you didn’t tell any of us for two years?” 

I nodded sheepishly. “I’m sorry it just- it has a lot of other memories with it too.”

“I get it.” Kash’s parents were divorced too, and he lived with his dad. “You should tell me about astrophotography. I know it’s like using a camera with a telescope, but how does this adaptive optics thing work?”

I laughed. “Kash, I am so sorry but I really don’t know much more than I’ve told you. It honestly gets pretty complex. My dad would be the best teacher. I wish you could meet him.”

His eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea!”

“What?”

“We should all go to New Mexico with you. One of the times when you visit your dad!” 

He was right; that sounded like a great idea. I would love so much to be able to share my childhood home with my best friends. “Do you think Rosa and Lily would even want to go?” I asked. 

We asked them the next day. “Yes!” Rosa squealed and hugged me. “That. Is. The. Most. Amazing. Idea!” 

Lily grinned with her. “I love it. We have to make this happen.” 

And we did. After a year of planning and persuading everyone’s parents to fund plane tickets, we were off to New Mexico. My dad’s best friend Anton picked us up from Las Cruces and drove us just over an hour to get to Lil’ Astro. 

My biggest worry had been that my dad would be too busy for my friends to get much out of the trip, but he had seemed so excited when I told him over the phone. Every time I’d been back he’d been pretty good about making time in his schedule, but Lil’ Astro was always extra busy in the summers from tourists. 

“I’ll drop you off at the observatory,” Anton told us. “If you need anything, Finn, you know my number. I’m sure we’ll see you at the observations sometime.”

“Thanks, Anton,” I replied, looking back at my friends who had their faces pressed against the windows looking at the passing desert. I grinned. “You know there’s just a lot of dust and cacti out there for miles, right?” 

“I’ve never seen land so flat,” Rosa gushed. 

I laughed. “It’s definitely not NYC. The flat land actually helps a lot with observations because the unobstructed horizon allows for you to see a lot more of the sky.”

“I think it’s really beautiful,” Lily said. “You can see how much time has gone into building this place.”

Kash nodded his head in agreement. “I’m so excited to take pictures! I’ve never had a landscape like this to work with.” 

“I just really want you guys to meet my dad.” 

“Ficará bem,” Rosa said with an assuring smile. It’ll be okay. One of her favorite Portuguese phrases, and she always knew when I needed to hear it most. 

Anton put the car in park. “Here you go, kids! Ray’s waiting inside.”

“Thank you!” We all said as we piled out. 

“Woah,” Lily said. “That’s a huge dome.”

“It’s the observatory,” I said. “Come on!”

I led them into the building and upstairs to where my dad was waiting. As usual, he was on his swivel chair sliding back and forth between his telescope and the computer system he used to run the adaptive optics. My friends looked at me hesitantly, unsure of what to do. I wasn’t quite sure myself.

“Dad?”

He swiveled around, startled. “My gosh, Finn! It’s that time already, isn’t it?” He grabbed his glasses from his desk and eyed my friends carefully, getting the same intense look in his eyes as when he was studying the sky. “You must be my son’s friends from the big city.”

Rosa stepped forward first. “Yes, we are. We’ve heard so much about you, and Lil’ Astro, we just had to come see for ourselves.” 

“Well then!” Ray said, clapping his hands together. “I guess I’ll have to pull out all the stops. As my favorite astronomer Carl Sagan once said, “exploration is in our nature.” So let’s explore!”

My friends looked at me with a mixture of excitement and confusion on their faces. I knew exactly how they felt. My dad was certainly eccentric, and even their time spent around me and my mom left them slightly ill-equipped to understand his non-stop, passionate way of speaking about everything. He held his hands up dramatically and led us downstairs to where there was a store of astronomical equipment and various hallways that led to seminar rooms. It had grown a lot since I’d lived there, when my mother led a mythology of constellations seminar. 

“We usually have a guest speaker every week, someone who doesn’t live in Lil’ Astro but has a special interest in what we do here. Lots of local engineers, astronomers, photographers even, but today I’ve secured the most prestigious speaker we’ve ever had,” My dad rubbed his hands together with anticipation. 

Lily gave me a questioning look, and I shrugged in return. “No idea,” I mouthed. 

My dad just gave a knowing chuckle and led us down the hall. Almost every inch of the wall was covered in astrophotography, a lot of it his. I also saw the names of some Lil’ Astro locals and recognized some of the bigger and more prominent photos being from the Hubble Space Telescope, one of the most revolutionary astronomy instruments of mine and my dad’s lives. We passed Stephan’s Quintet, the Pillars of Creation, and the most famous Deep Field image before we turned into the biggest room yet. It was absolutely packed. 

“Uh…. Dad? Is there even room for us in here?” I asked hesitantly. I felt a prick of embarrassment in my stomach; there was a hugely popular seminar about to happen, and I didn’t even have anywhere for my friends to sit. 

He remained unfazed. “Follow me.”

I scanned the room as he led us up toward the front. Everyone was dressed in their professional best, and as we neared the first few rows, I saw a team of cameramen setting up. The anxiety I felt quickly turned to curiosity and excitement. I looked back at my friends. Kash was eyeing the cameramen, probably analyzing their choice of equipment. Lily was looking forward, trying to keep track of my father, but was stealing quick glances around the huge room. Rosa was walking with the usual skip in her step plus some, and she leaned forward to whisper to me “Oooh, I am so excited! Do you think it’s someone famous? Well, I suppose I probably wouldn’t know any famous astronomers, since I’m still just a newbie. I just love things like this, always so muito exitante!” Another common Rosa phrase. Very exciting. 

Ray led us to the very front row, where five seats had been reserved. “I would like to welcome you all,” he said, “to the most important seminar in the history of Lil’ Astro.” He gave me a wink and gestured for us to take our seats. Then he walked up to the pulpit and spoke into the microphone. “Thank you all for coming today for this fantastic seminar. It truly is such an honor to have this speaker with us here in Lil’ Astro, as it is someone I have such immense respect for both as a person and as an astronomer. Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to welcome today renowned astrophysicist Dr. Neil deGrasse Tyson!” 

Applause thundered through the echoing room and I genuinely thought I was having an out of body experience when the most famous astronomer I could’ve imagined stepped up to the mic. Lily, of all people, grabbed my arm and squeezed it so tight I think it left a mark. She squealed, being the most mathematically minded of the group and therefore acquainted well with his work in physics. I knew him from being one of the loudest voices in the debate surrounding Pluto’s status as a planet, and from his many books and videos on every astronomical topic I could dream of. I often used his work to explain things to my friends, and we all had the same level of respect for him that I’m sure my father had for Carl Sagan. 

“Everyone should have their mind blown at least once a day,” Dr. Tyson began. “I’ve said it many times before, and I will continue to say it. Hopefully I can provide that for some of you today. I know my mind was blown this morning seeing the fantastic work of Raymond Lee, and when I saw what amazing work he’s doing here in Lil’ Astro. I grew up in New York City, and I went to school there. The opportunity that this place is for everyone here is truly incredible. Everyone deserves a chance to study the sky.” He looked down at me and my friends. “I love nothing more than to see young people sharing their passions with one another.” 

I felt tears well up behind my eyes. It made perfect sense now why I could feel both so at home and so lost in New York City. It led me to my friends, to my true love of sharing what I know with them. But it kept me from Lil’ Astro, from the sky, from truly seeing what meant so much to me. 

“There’s always something paradoxical about living in the city and loving the night sky. I’ve tried my best to raise awareness of some of the unintended consequences of light pollution, but there’s only so much we can do. Places like Lil’ Astro just aren’t realistic on a larger scale. Electric lighting is a staple of humanity, a display to the universe of our ability to innovate and create. It has a beauty and a meaning that at times can rival that of the cosmos. Yet, there is a strange feeling of loss that permeates such beauty. We will never see the sky that ancient astronomers saw, and they will never know what vast knowledge we have gained from their work. Again, such a paradox. As is true with most things that carry real importance.”

It was interesting how he commented on light. I had always considered it an astronomer’s worst enemy, a symbol of everything we stood against. But to view it as an art form, the way my mother viewed the stars, that was new to me. I guess he was right; there was a paradox in everything I cared about. My parents, my homes, astronomy, even my friends. I settled back into my seat as Dr. Tyson then transitioned to discuss his thoughts on Pluto. It was a topic of great contention among the astronomical community, and the country as a whole. Americans loved Pluto. Nobody really knew why, but Dr. Tyson seemed to believe a certain Disney character might hold more subconscious sway than people realized. He supported the questioning of Pluto’s planet status, not because he had some vendetta against it, but because he viewed it more as the first big discovery in what else was in our solar neighborhood.

“Maybe Pluto is, in fact, the first discovered object of the Kuiper belt rather than the ninth planet.”

He finished his thoughts, thanked my father and Lil’ Astro again for having him, and stepped down from the podium while the room erupted once again into thunderous applause. My dad stood and went to shake his hand, then led him over to us. Rosa clapped her hands with excitement, and Lily gave my arm another squeeze. 

He looked at me first. “Hello there,” he said. “I’m so glad to meet you after everything your father has told me. I’m Dr. Tyson.”

I shook his outstretched hand eagerly. “Dr. Tyson, I’m Finn Lee. I’m a huge fan. It’s such an honor. These are my friends: Rosa Almeida, Kash Patel, and Lily Andrews.”

Rosa jumped at the chance to shake his hand next. “I love your writing!” She gushed. “I want to be a writer, and it’s- ugh, it’s just so exciting to read about the universe. It really inspires me when I’m creating my own, you know?” 

He grinned. “Yes, indeed. I’m glad my scientific ramblings are worth reading for someone with such a love for literature. It reinforces my belief that astronomy is for everyone.”

Next was Kash. “It’s amazing to meet you, sir. I really love your research on star formations; some of my favorite space images aim to capture that process.”

Dr. Tyson nodded knowingly. “It’s really incredible to think about. Whenever I can’t find something to blow my mind, I always come back to star formation and the size of the universe, and it never fails me.”

Lily hesitantly stepped forward. “Dr. Tyson, I have a lot of respect for everything you’ve worked on. I’ll admit I’m still quite lost reading more of your complex explanations, but astrophysics is just so interesting to me and it’s so great to meet you in person.”

Lily was quite soft spoken, unless she was on the basketball court, and because of that, people often overlooked her or didn’t give her as much attention as she deserved. But Dr. Tyson looked at her like she was the only person in the room, and I knew she recognized that too. 

“I would highly encourage you to continue in your pursuits,” He said. “It’s Lily, right?” She nodded. “Well, Lily, the astronomical community needs bright young women like you. I wish you the best in all you do. All of you.” He turned back to my father. “Thank you again for having me.”

“Thank you for coming. Safe travels,” My dad replied. 

Once Dr. Tyson had left, my dad turned back to us and clapped his hands. “Who’s ready for some more exploration? Come on, come on, upstairs we go. It’s time to play with expensive equipment!”

The rest of our week-long trip, my dad showed us all of his telescopes, explained in-depth to Kash about astrophotography and our adaptive optics system while Rosa, Lily, and I perused his photography collection, and had us meet various other astronomers in the community that had helped the provide funds and expertise needed to expand Lil’ Astro. The best part, though, was the observation on our last night. We’d committed to going out to see the sky every night, and even though I’d been back a few times, I was still in awe every time at the breathtaking view. It was just so different from New York. Our sixth night, my dad suggested we join a bigger group instead of going out with just the five of us. I didn’t think much of it until we arrived to find a familiar voice narrating the observation. 

“If you remember where we left off, you can follow Vega, the brightest star in Lyra, down and to the left a bit over 10 degrees to find Deneb, the head of Cygnus the Swan. The story of Cygnus…”

“It’s Finn’s mom!” Rosa exclaimed.

Kash shone his red-light flashlight back at me. “What’s she doing here?”

I shrugged, grinning. “I don’t know. But I know she leads the best observations. She used to give mythology seminars when we lived here.”

“That’s right,” Rosa said. “I forgot she was a history major. Man, I love Greek stories; they’re just so muito exitante.”

“Shh,” said Lily. “I’m trying to listen.”

“Zeus transformed him into a huge white Swan so he could dive down and save his friend, choosing to immortalize his act of bravery in the night sky forever. Now, then, let's keep going along the horizon. To the left of Cygnus is one of our circumpolar constellations, King Cepheus. Although the mythological story of Cepheus is quite short, with him sacrificing his daughter Andromeda to the sea monster Cetus, Cepheus is often thought of as a symbol of Kingship in general. A King that stands strong, and the shape of the constellation has even been said to resemble a house, representing a foundation and a place of safety.”

As she spoke, I couldn’t help but think of my father. He reminded me of a King, in his own unique, eccentric way. Always striving for more, building others up, and inspiring people in a way I envied. He always saw something bigger in everything. I looked out at the familiar constellation, thinking of how it would never fully dip below the horizon. Just like my dad. He was always there, even if I couldn’t make out all of him or even feel like he was there, he was still reigning the sky with a fierceness and a passion I wasn’t sure I could ever truly describe. 

“Cepheus is one of my favorite constellations,” my mother said, “because it can mean almost anything you want it to. And there’s something uniquely beautiful about that.”

Choosing where to go to college was so hard for me. There was New Mexico, Caltech, Arizona State (where my parents went), but ultimately I chose the New York Institute of Technology. Maybe I just wanted to follow in Dr. Tyson’s footsteps, studying in New York, but I really had come to love the city despite the blinding lights. It also offered me a great chance to study astronomy while staying at home with my mom, who had supported me every step of the way. So, go Bears! That was another small factor; I’d come to like going to a school that matched a constellation. I was in college now, so I figured Ursa Major was a good match. Big Bear indeed. 

I was the only one of my friends that stayed in New York. It was really hard for us to separate, but we each had amazing opportunities where we went. Lily was recruited to play on the Duke women’s basketball team, so of course she had to take the offer. She studied astrophysics, and when she graduated, she was drafted into the WNBA to play for the New York Liberty, bringing her back home. She continued her education while she played, gaining some fame in the league because of her brilliance, and after five years of playing, she attended Columbia University and got her masters and doctorate in astrophysics. She graduated valedictorian, and the commencement speaker at her graduation was Dr. Neil deGrasse Tyson, who remembered her from when they met in Lil’ Astro. She went on to work as an astrophysicist for SpaceX, aiding in the development of the groundbreaking Falcon 9, and eventually being assigned to the Starship project. 

Kash attended New Mexico University, majoring in Photography with a minor in Astronomy. Him and I became basically like brothers, as we both spent our summers in Lil’ Astro while he interned under my dad. He stayed in Lil’ Astro for many years after he graduated, building his own portfolio. As soon as he was able, he started a blog where he explained the science behind famous Hubble photographs, posted his own images, and gave instructions to amateur astronomers on how they can better study and photograph the sky. 

Rosa went to Northwestern to study creative writing, and she soon began working for a small publisher writing short stories. Meanwhile, she penned a fantasy novel series that took lots of inspiration from what she loved about space. Her series made it onto the New York Times Bestseller list and was praised for being  “colorful storytelling that cannot be defined to just one genre.” I remember her calling me after an interview she’d done on her first published book. 

“Thank you Finn,” she had said.

“Don’t thank me, Rosa,” I replied. “You’re so talented; this is exactly what you deserve for all your passion and hard work.”

“No,” she sighed. “I don’t think I ever would’ve made it here without you. You know I have so much passion for writing, but before I met you, I was lost in it. It took me a while to realize why everything you taught me about space was so important to me. But I think it’s just something I have a natural connection to, something that drives me to want to create things that make other people feel the way I feel when I think about the universe. And maybe someday I’ll write a true science fiction novel, or maybe a short story. But even if I don’t, it still makes a huge difference. So thank you, Finn. For everything.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to study at first. I knew I wasn’t going to be an astrophotographer like my dad, but I still wanted to make a difference like I felt he had done for so many people. Lily was the science person, Kash the photographer, Rosa the writer. Somehow I had helped them all fall into their perfect places without leaving room for myself. At least, that’s how it felt at first. It was actually my mother who helped me realize what I wanted to do with my passion.

“I just feel like I have all this random knowledge, and these weird obsessions that don’t translate into a profession,” I told her. “I’m happy I chose New York Tech, but I just feel so unsure about everything else.”

“Well, let’s think it through. You love astronomy,” she said. “You know that for sure.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Why do you love it?”

I frowned. “I don’t know; I always have. It’s a part of my life, a part of me.”

“What part of you?”

“I don’t know, Mom,” I sighed.

“Just think about it. I love astronomy because of the history behind it and what that means to me. I love its simplicity and how it speaks to me as an art form. But you know it’s different for everyone. Lily loves the science and mathematics that make up the cosmos. Kash loves to find new angles and capture space in ways it’s never been seen before. And Rosa loves to take inspiration from what she loves about the universe to create totally separate, new worlds. So, why do you love astronomy?”

“I… I don’t know, I just love to talk about it. I love to chase my interests and help others do the same. I’ve learned a little about a lot as I’ve helped my friends along their paths, and I think it’s just amazing to see how sharing what I know has inspired so much in others, and so many different things too.” My mother smiled at me with tears in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” I asked. 

“Finn, you’re a teacher,” she said. “And I just think that’s wonderful.” 

She was right. I loved teaching others, especially about space but also about anything. So I studied astronomy and physics at New York Tech, and then I went to New Mexico University to get a degree in education. I lived in Lil’ Astro after that, with Kash, teaching seminars and even getting the local high school to let me teach a class of Astronomy.

 When I was 29, my dad told us that he had pancreatic cancer. He died a month later. It felt like the most impossible time in my life. After so much time away, I felt like I had just got back to where we had been when I was younger. And then he was just gone. Every room felt emptier without his contagious excitement. My mom moved back to Lil’ Astro after my father died. All my friends came out to the funeral service, and Lily even pulled a few strings to get Dr. Tyson to speak at it as well. It was a small, beautiful service. After that, Kash renamed his blog to RayLee Astronomy, in memory of my father and his mentor. Lily arranged for his ashes to be sent into space, which may have seemed like a weird request to many, but was perfectly fitting to my father’s personality. Of course he would make a ridiculous request like that in his will. Rosa ended up feeling inspired to write her first nonfiction novel, A Biography of Raymond Lee: Father, Astrophotographer, Explorer, and Inspiration. I think I cried for a full day when I read the finished book. 

As for where I ended up, well, I went back to New York City. After being a kind of makeshift teacher, giving various seminars and starting up local astronomy programs in New Mexico, the New York Institute of Technology offered me a position as a Professor of Astronomy. I gladly took the spot, and I’ve been happy to see hundreds of my students, whether going into astronomy or not, leave my class a bit more inspired than when they entered. And for me, that was about as fulfilling as life could get. 

I still like to take trips out to Hallock State Park, and even though the sky there will never come close to rivaling Lil’ Astro’s, it still holds a special place in my heart. I can still hear my father telling me, “Find Polaris, Finn.” And that’s what I do. Ursa Minor, Polaris. My dim but ever-present North Star, a reminder of what I love about the night sky. Then Ursa Major, because Go Bears! Next, Draco, since I’ll never forget where I met my best friends. Cassiopeia, to remind me of my ever-supportive mother who brought me to the city and opened doors for me that I never could have opened myself. Finally, Cepheus. In memory of the man who inspired so many, but most of all, who instilled in me a wonder for the universe I live in, for there is truly nothing more beautiful than learning the vast complexities of existence. I realize that we all have our North Stars, something, or someone, that we turn to. The sky is just a thing that humans use to understand themselves, and to seek to understand everything else beyond that. As my dad and Carl Sagan loved to say, “Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.” All I need to do to remind myself of that is to go out at night and find my five constellations, all anchored around the same singular star. Circumpolar.