This article was produced by National Geographic Traveller (UK).
In 2009, Mexican-American engineer José Hernández fulfilled a lifelong dream: to travel to space as a NASA astronaut. Getting there was harder than for most. Born into a family of migrant farmworkers, José lived his childhood on what he calls the ‘California circuit’. He’d spend the winter holidays with his family in Mexico’s south, then follow the seasonal harvest across the US state, changing schools every few months. His ambition saw him become the first person in his family to go to university, as well as learn to pilot, dive and even speak Russian. As he tells us in this interview, the hardships of his early life are what gave him the resilience needed to succeed.
What inspired you to become an astronaut?
My dream was conceived when, as a 10-year-old, I watched as the very last man stepped foot on the moon, live on my family’s black-and-white TV. I heard astronaut Gene Cernan talk to Mission Control Houston, and reporter Walter Cronkite — I still remember his name — narrate that moonwalk. It was almost like a calling, like a young man feeling he should become a priest. That’s how it felt to me: a spiritual pull.
Did you realise the scale of that ambition?
I knew I was a farmworker, but I didn’t know I had such a disadvantage. Despite having a third-grade education, my father empowered me to believe I could do it. He gave me five ingredients for success, a recipe I still use: define your goal; recognise how far you are from it; draw a roadmap to get there; prepare yourself according to the challenge; and develop a work ethic second to none. I added a sixth: perseverance. I was rejected by NASA 11 times, but I kept trying and finally succeeded in 2004, on my 12th attempt.
Where did that resilience come from?
It was built into me, and I thank my heritage, I thank my past. I grew up working, getting up at four in the morning seven days a week, all year round. People often say I became an astronaut despite being from a family of migrant farmworkers. I correct them: it’s not despite, it’s because.
Did you ever feel like giving up?
I gave myself one or two days to mourn, but then I’d look at the glass half full. What’s the worst that could happen if I never got selected? Wanting to be an astronaut motivated me to go to college, to graduate school, work at a premier research facility, learn how to be a pilot, a scuba diver, study a third language. The consolation prize was not a bad one compared to working as a kid, picking cucumbers for 50 cents a bucket. It’s why I always tell people they have to enjoy the journey. Sometimes life takes side roads and detours, and sometimes you don’t get there at all. If you’re not enjoying the journey, chances are you’ve got the wrong destination picked for yourself.
What did receiving the acceptance letter feel like?
You may think it felt like winning the lottery; more than 12,000 people applied for nine to 15 positions. But I felt like it was about time. I’d done everything, and in some way, I felt entitled to be there. Also, when you get accepted to the space programme, you don’t necessarily end up in space. You still have to go through two years of training. You learn to fly a jet and operate a space shuttle on the International Space Station. You have academic tests every Friday — oral, written and simulator tests — like being on finals for two years in a row. And you have to demonstrate you have the right stuff, the aptitude.
What did take-off feel like?
It’s the best ride Disneyland could hope for. It starts off slow and picks up gradually; you go from zero to 17,500 mph in the eight and a half minutes it takes to get to space. At the end, it feels like three people stepping on your chest. But I trained, and I had confidence in the 1,000 people that make every mission a success.
What about looking at Earth for the first time?
The first time I looked down, I saw North America — Canada, the US, Mexico. The beautiful thing is that you can’t tell where countries end and begin. I thought, my gosh, I had to go out of this world to realise that borders are made-up concepts. And how sad, because from up there, I see us as one. I wish our politicians would get that same experience.
You were in space for 14 days. Did you get used to it?
No, it was a blur, and a lot of work. I was the flight engineer, and we were the second-to-last mission to finish construction of the International Space Station, like the move-in guys who put in the appliances when you buy a house. We took seven tons of equipment — experiment racks, exercise gear, as well as things like antennas for the outside.
Did you have any issues after coming back to Earth?
I wasn’t gone long enough to have weakened muscles; if you don’t exercise, sometimes you might even have issues standing up. My vestibular balance system and inner ear were not calibrated, so I struggled more with my balance, but then you get used to it.
Is space something travellers can aspire to see?
Right now, it’s a millionaire’s game, but in about 15 years, the price will come down — not to an airline ticket, but to the point where you can decide: do I buy a new car or go to space?
How can people learn more about space travel?
The Kennedy Space Center Visitor Complex is the second-best way of experiencing space. It has over 100 space launches this year alone, and an astronaut is on site every day for presentations. It also has a new experience that describes the architecture of the Artemis rocket and Gateway Station that will travel to and orbit the moon, respectively. We’re going back up there in about a year and a half, which will help us prepare for the big trip to Mars. It’s really exciting.
How often are you there?
About four or five days twice a year, but the Space Center has an astronaut every day. You can listen to their presentation and have breakfast with them, or a coffee in the afternoon. When I’m there, they even serve my wine, the label Tierra Luna Cellars.
How does your winery fit into your story?
When I retired and came back to California, I wanted to get back on a tractor. Once I started selling grapes to a winery, I looked at that process and thought, this is not rocket science. I took it into my own hands and developed three wine varieties. We’re not exporting yet, but we’re going to build a tasting centre. People will be able to come, have lunch and open a nice bottle among the vines. I worked on a farm, now I have a vineyard. It closes the circle.
Published in the September 2024 issue of National Geographic Traveller (UK).
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