They orbited the moon, but I keep coming back to the crew
A masterclass in how to be together
It’s been almost a month since the crew of Artemis II splashed back to earth, and I can’t stop thinking about them as a group. How they were together. How they were with us. How they teamed. How they grouped. How they showed us four strong “I’s,” and also a moving “We.” It was healing to behold. And I’m not the first one to say that. But it’s sticking with me enough to put pen to paper and try to articulate what was just so good about the anatomy of this crew.
In researching my new book, I learned that NASA teams are intricately designed. Astronauts aren’t identified solely by their individual skills, but also by how they work with others in high-pressure environments. One of the biggest risks is the cohesion of the people aboard. How do you build a team that doesn’t drive each other nuts in tight quarters over a sustained period of time while orbiting the solar system?
I first learned about the lunar mission on the day of the lunar mission. My in-laws texted me excitedly that the name of the mission’s spacecraft was also my son’s name! (Orion.) The day of the launch also just happened to be my son Orion’s birthday. We all thought that was pretty neat. But I started paying attention to the crew when I caught a video of Victor Glover beaming back to us on Easter: “You guys are talking to us because we’re in a spaceship really far from Earth, but you’re on a spaceship called Earth that was created to give us a place to live in the universe and the cosmos.” From that first ad-libbed message, and as I watched them over ten days, what I saw in the crew of Artemis II was one of the healthiest group dynamics I’ve ever observed.
11 ways the Artemis II astronauts embodied a high-functioning, high-performing group
1. Artemis II is full of protocol. But it’s also full of ritual. There are hundreds of safety protocols, checklists, and orders of operations for something as complex and high-risk as a rocket launch. But there are also rituals. Protocols make us safe. Rituals bind us. Minutes before departing, after getting suited up, the crew doesn’t go to the launch pad. Instead, they go play a card game with NASA’s chief astronaut. They stop by Neil A. Armstrong Operations and Checkout Building and play a game of Highest Card Wins with Scott Tingle (NASA’s Chief Astronaut). They keep playing until the Chief Astronaut loses, so “he can take the teams’ bad luck.” They gather around a small white table together, allowing them to make eye contact with each other. If you watch the video, they shake hands or fist-bump before dealing the cards. It also connects them to every crew that came before them (who have also participated in this pre-launch tradition). It binds them to each other and to the larger purpose. It also provides some much-needed levity.
2. Each crew member knows their unique role in the group. When I’m brought in to help a team that has gotten stuck, one of the biggest challenges I see is role confusion. In meetings, conferences, or high-stakes gatherings, we have an instinct to want everyone to be the same or to participate in the same way. But high-functioning groups have role differentiation and clarity: people know their roles, and they’re proud to play them. In this case, Commander Reid Wiseman is the overall mission lead who’s responsible for crew safety, decision-making, and mission success. Pilot Victor Glover is responsible for flying and controlling the Orion spacecraft systems. Mission Specialists Christina Koch and Jeremy Hansen are responsible for mission operations, onboard systems, and support for both the commander and the pilot. And they all know their roles. There is no role confusion. There is no hierarchy confusion. This role clarity gives them both stability and dynamism. Role clarity gives people a sense of home and purpose. It prevents conflict and allows for coordination in moments of ambiguity and risk – including (real example!) when the toilet on the rocket ship had a priming issue and needed to be warmed up.
3. They also understand the role they’re playing towards us. Their mission wasn’t just to travel around the dark side of the moon and make it back alive. Their mission was also to be a symbol for us – you know, all of humanity. They understood they needed to communicate with us. Even, I dare say, host us as guests, viewers, and witnesses to them witnessing the moon. They never forgot their audience. Without being performative, they understood that humanity was watching, and they kept us in mind the whole time. It was very complicated to do what they did. They were both experiencing this high-stress mission, but they were also taking us through with them.
4. They’re meaning-makers. The first video from space to go viral was their Easter video. And in it, Victor Glover takes the mic and says:
“I don’t have anything prepared. I’m glad you brought it up, though; I think these observances are important. As we are so far from Earth and looking at the beauty of creation, I think, for me, one of the really important personal perspectives that I have up here is I can really see the Earth as one thing. When I read the Bible, and I look at all the amazing things that were done for us... You guys are talking to us because we’re in a spaceship really far from Earth, but you’re on a spaceship called Earth that was created to give us a place to live in the universe and the cosmos.”
They are helping us make meaning of ourselves to ourselves. He’s not assuming, “Of course this is cool!” Or, “They don’t want to hear from little old me.” They are helping us wrap our minds (and hearts) around what is happening – not just to them, but to us.
Glover continued, “I think, as we go into Easter Sunday, thinking about all the cultures all around the world, whether you celebrate it or not, whether you believe in God or not, this is an opportunity for us to remember where we are, who we are, and that we are the same thing, and that we’ve gotta get through this together.”
5. They’re in their bodies. You can really observe their comfort and presence in their interview with President Trump. In an epic minutes-long delay (or silence?), they are all sitting there, smiling and waiting, bumping the mic back and forth, and just present. They’re not trying to fix anything, or take over, or stop the awkwardness. Many of us are thrown by long, awkward silences. In fact, as a baby facilitator, one of the practices I was trained in was to not stop awkward silences in the group. We are taught to breathe and be present to the group. The best facilitators are comfortable with silence – especially when something should “be happening.” If you watch the astronauts during that delay, you can feel the trust they have in themselves and in each other. They’re relaxed. They are not on high alert.
6. They name what’s hard, and hold each other through it. One of the most moving moments of the trip was when Jeremy Hanson reported to Houston that the crew wanted to name one of the craters after Reid Wiseman’s wife, Carroll, who had died from cancer in 2020. When Hansen says, “And so we lost a loved one, the spouse of Reid, the mother of Katey and Ellie,” you can see Wiseman wipe away tears. Hansen’s voice cracks. As he says, “It’s a bright spot on the moon. And we’d like to call it Carroll, and you spell it C-A-R-R-O-L-L,” Koch wipes a tear, also. As soon as Hansen completes his request, Wiseman floats over and embraces him, and then Koch and Glover join and hold him in a deep embrace. They hold grief together. This is hard, and we are here.
7. They inhabit the mythic and the mundane. One of my favorite interviews in my new book is with the organizational culture expert, Gayle Karen Young. When a group is coming out of a reckoning, Young told me, to stabilize in the days and weeks after, we need to inhabit both “the mythic and the mundane.” Yes, tell stories and make meaning. But also, scrub floors together, clean out the storage shed, and pay invoices. You can see the crew doing this on board. There is plenty of time for the mythic. But they are as committed to the mundane. When the toilet broke on the mission, Christina Koch happily asserts that she is the chief toilet plunger.
8. They have a great sense of humor. Can you guess which quality NASA researchers look for most in an astronaut who can handle conflict well? A sense of humor. This crew is having fun. There is warmth. They’re joking around. And, interestingly, they make a distinction between humor and teasing. When asked if they tease each other, they actually say, “No. We might joke around together, but we’re not teasing him.”
9. There’s excellence and a celebration of excellence. At no point is there any doubt that these four human beings are the best in the world at their jobs. And what a relief it is to behold. As Liz Plank wrote that week: “Four humans got into a rocket and went to the moon, farther from Earth than any humans have ever traveled in the history of our species. And they were so good at it, so genuinely moved by it, and so articulate about what they were seeing and feeling, that millions of people who have been running on anxiety and dread for the last eleven years just stopped for a moment and finally exhaled.”
10. Having a Canadian astronaut on this mission lets the whole world be part of it. It’s interesting to me that one of the astronauts, Jeremy Hansen, chosen for an American government agency’s NASA launch, is non-American. And it allowed the whole world to cheer on. Choosing Jeremy Hansen to be part of the crew made this a global mission.
11. They let themselves be altered by this experience, and each other. They are not pretending to be not affected by this wild experience or by each other. They are amazed by what they’re seeing. And they scream it from the rooftops. They’re not too cool for school. No, no, they can’t believe their eyes. And by letting themselves be altered. Letting us see them be altered. They are giving us the gift of being altered, too.
Warmest,
Priya
P.S. My new book, THE ART OF FIGHTING, is making its way to bookshelves on September 8th. But you can pre-order it now! In it, I look at what creates healthy groups and communities that can weather any storm and come out the better for it. You can pre-order it here. And doing so signals to publishers that this is a book people want. I so appreciate it if it speaks to you.
P.P.S. How do you price a gathering without making it weird? Join me tomorrow, April 29, at 12 pm ET for my next GROUP HELP Lab: Pricing: How to think about money and gatherings. We’ll break down how pricing signals value, shapes who’s in the room, and creates (or kills) trust. This one’s for Group Lifers, so make sure you’re signed up here. And then join us on Zoom here.




@Priya Parker, this whole piece stopped me. But #5 — they're in their bodies — is where I kept returning.
You write about facilitators learning to sit with awkward silence. That landed hard. It's one of the most underrated skills in the room — and one of the most disarming when you actually witness it.
What I've noticed in end-of-life work is that people often expect me to fill silence. To fix the weight of it.
And the moment you stop trying to fix it — when you just stay — something shifts. The silence becomes the thing that's holding everyone, not threatening them.
The Artemis crew sitting there, bumping the mic, smiling, present — that's the whole thing, isn't it?
Trust in yourself and in the people beside you.
Thank you for naming it so clearly.
— @Patricia M Sears | Certified End-of-Life Doula, Graceful Transitions
I love this, Priya. Less the alpha male competitors described in Tom Wolfe's The Right Stuff, but still the same sense of camaraderie.