Today, Blue Origin launched a group of six women (mostly celebrities and public figures) on a suborbital rocket flight. Within minutes, headlines across the internet were calling them “astronauts.”

Let’s be blunt: this was a PR stunt.

No shade to the women involved personally, but let’s not cheapen the term astronaut. It’s a title that, for decades, has been earned through grueling physical training, scientific excellence, and often a lifetime of commitment to space and engineering fields. Throwing that same title around for a ten-minute up-and-down ride in a capsule feels like cosplay. And worse, it sends the message that girls need theatrical gestures or media campaigns to be inspired by science.

I call bullshit.

My daughter doesn’t need a space-themed publicity event to think science is cool. She needs time with me in the living room, where we’re building robot cars. She needs the sound of a 3D printer running in Papa’s office, churning out little trinkets we find online together. She watches the machine move, fascinated, asking questions. She watches me fix it when it breaks, modify it, and iterate on it. She sees engineering as something you do, not something you watch from afar.

The 3D printer itself wasn’t bought off a shelf. I built it. Like a lot of things in our home, it’s the product of tinkering, experimenting, trial-and-error. That process is transparent to her. She gets to see how things get made, how things fail, and how we try again. We don’t call it “STEM”. We just do stuff. And that’s the point.

She’s absorbed programming concepts without realizing it, because I feed her bite-sized logic puzzles or show her how the robot works when she asks. I don’t sit her down for lectures. I don’t frame it as “hey, this is important because you’re a girl and there aren’t enough women in tech.” That just reinforces the idea that she’s doing something abnormal.

Instead, I make engineering part of her world. Casual. Normal. Fun. No banners needed.

The Scully Effect Is Real

There’s actual research showing that role models in media matter, and how they’re presented matters even more. “The Scully Effect” refers to a measurable increase in women entering STEM fields who cite Dana Scully from The X-Files as an inspiration. She was smart, calm, analytical. She didn’t wear it on her sleeve. She wasn’t there to “prove women could do science”, she just did the science.

That’s what kids respond to.

In our house, we also watch Star Trek. Captain Janeway commands a starship. B’Elanna Torres is the chief engineer. These aren’t characters who stop every few minutes to remind us that they’re women breaking barriers. The stories respect them as competent professionals, and the audience (especially young girls) internalizes that. It’s powerful because it’s not treated like a novelty.

Compare that to a lot of modern media, where every time a female scientist appears, the script has to stop and wave a flag about it. “Look, girls! You, too, can be an engineer!” It feels forced, and kids can sense that. It’s the difference between representation and pandering.

It’s Not the Job of Schools or Media to Raise Thinkers

Let’s stop pretending this is someone else’s responsibility.

Schools are stretched thin and not built for personalization. Media has other incentives (clicks, branding, ad money). Neither can raise your kid with curiosity, patience, or hands-on exposure to real-world technical skills. That’s on you.

Especially if you’re a parent who’s already in a technical field. Engineer, software developer, maker, scientist, whatever. You owe it to your kids to bring them into that world. Let them watch you debug a microcontroller or troubleshoot a 3D printer. Let them ask “why” a hundred times. Give them a front-row seat to your passion and process.

You don’t need to “inspire” them. You need to include them.

That’s how you raise someone who’s not intimidated by systems, complexity, or the unknown. That’s how you raise someone who doesn’t wait for permission to open things up and figure them out.

Raising curious minds with critical thinking skills isn’t a special STEM curriculum or a one-week summer camp. It’s a way of life. It’s kitchen-table work. It’s what happens when a child sees their parent solving problems for fun.

We Don’t Need More Hashtag Campaigns

We need to stop trying to market girls into science and just start doing science with them. That’s how you build lasting interest. Not through news coverage. Not through branded “STEM events.” Not through celebrities being handed titles they didn’t earn.

If you’re a parent, don’t outsource this. Build stuff with your kid. Let her see you get excited about weird projects. Let her help. Let her break things. Fix them together. Make it a part of everyday life.

She won’t grow up thinking she can be an engineer. She’ll grow up already being one.

What I Hope Other Parents Take Away

• Don’t make gender the headline. Treat science and engineering as normal activities for your daughter, and she’ll treat them that way too.

• Model passion. Your enthusiasm is more powerful than a thousand marketing campaigns.

• Use media intentionally. Seek out shows where women just do the job, without needing applause for doing it.

• Keep it hands-on. Buy a Raspberry Pi. Build a robot. Fix a toaster. Do anything that requires tools and curiosity.

• Drop the labels. You don’t need to call it “STEM time.” Just do interesting things together.

• Own it as a parent. Don’t wait for teachers or TV to shape your kid’s view of what’s possible. That’s your job.

This is how we raise the next generation of scientists and engineers. Not with stunts. Not with headlines. With time, effort, and a little bit of solder smoke on the kitchen table.

Let’s stop making it a big deal. Let’s make it normal.