Teamwork and Tenderness in Zero Gravity
Earlier this week, I watched part of the livestream of the spacewalk with Jessica Meir and Sophie Adenot. It was only the sixth spacewalk with two women and with this walk Meir has been on more walks than all by two women in history. They had a number of tasks to do, mostly separate from one another, but it was still a team effort between the astronauts and the ground crew that supported them.

As I watched near the end, there was a bit of a wardrobe malfunction that they were trying to address. Adenot’s shoulder was a bit restricted for some of the work and now that they were back together at the hatch, the ground crew wanted to see if Meir could do anything about it, fully suited.
It was incredible to listen to the patience that all parties had as they worked on the problem. Part of it involved undoing a zipper with gloves on and inspecting something that was more interior There would be a response from the astronauts and then silence, as I imagine that the team below determined the next step before communicating back up. When Meir described what she saw, which the team could not, they thanked her for the words that she used. “Those were very good words you used.” When a question was asked, they thanked one another for the question.
Ultimately, Meir wanted to try something to release the tension and they weren’t sure, but she had her partner shift her arm slightly and the cord that was caught came free. The pair began to reenter the hatch and while Adenot was supposed to be the one to close it, they wanted to make 100% sure that here wouldn’t be another malfunction. The team asked Adenot how she felt and Meir what she thought and they decided that Meir would close the hatch instead. But again, the team from below responded with affirmation and gratitude: “We really like the decision making process you went through.”
Part of what captured my attention was the tenderness. Here were two women, floating in space looking like marshmallows with their gigantic suits, cords and tools and bags hanging from their gear. A zipped protected a mechanism to warm the hands – a reminder of just how cold it was. The hatch enclosure looks like a flimsy canvas covering. There are moments of “handover” when the communication is momentarily disrupted as the signal switches satellites. The vulnerability of each moment was mitigated by the support on the ground and the highly detailed and choreographed movements – the labeling of positions on the space station and the movement of their guidewires, as well as the intense training these women have undergone. In some ways, in this kind of situation, you might expect a kind of cold professionalism focused on the task. I was surprised by the warmth in the voice of the man on the ground serving as the conduit between this pair and the entire NASA team. The politeness and humor and gratitude expressed between the members of the team was a joy to listen to.
Adenot captured this in the improvised speech she gave as they sat waiting for pressurization in the airlock. She described how she became an astronaut seeking to explore space, but “I just discovered how much I like working with such a professional team, which gives me good vibes every time I hear their voice, and also that are very focused on mission accomplishments, which having a very good time. And I love it. I feel more connected as a human to the team I’m working with.”
I’ve been away from my work for five weeks now, and missing my own team. And as I prepare to do my own “reentry” I’m thinking a lot about the spirit that I’m returning with. I hope that it is one that is attentive to the vulnerabilities, always professional, but also holds the work and the people with the kind of gratitude and gentleness I saw in that livestream. I like to think that I, too, am able to share good vibes with my team and that we all feel a bit more connected as human beings as a result.