Leland Melvin is an engineer, educator, former NASA astronaut, and NFL wide receiver. He served onboard the Space Shuttle Atlantis as a mission specialist on mission STS-122 (2008) and STS-129 (2009), helping to construct the International Space Station. In honor of the 50th anniversary of the moon landing, Leland agreed to take us through his incredible experience, giving color to photographs he took himself.

We’re now careening off the planet into the cosmos. At two and a half minutes, the boosters jettison, and the ride gets much smoother. Six minutes later, I’m undoing my seat belt and now I’m in space. I float over to the window and look out and see the Caribbean. I know maybe seven variations of the color blue—cerulean, azure, indigo, turquoise, light navy, dark navy, medium navy—but I need 20 more hues to describe what I see below me.

Again, I looked out and saw it. Even at five miles away, it loomed large outside the Space Shuttle window. We had just blasted off from Cape Canaveral, a crew of seven astronauts traveling at 17,500 miles per hour, closing in on the 450-ton football field–size International Space Station (ISS). I had trained for over 10 years, but nothing had prepared me for the magnificent view of this orbital outpost. Crimson gold glowing solar arrays constantly aligned with the sun to harvest every photon for power to energize the pumps, motors, and systems that brought the vehicle to life.

After we docked the shuttle and station together, my job was to move the European Space Agency’s Columbus research laboratory out of the shuttle payload bay and attach it to the Space Station. This was our primary mission objective: Grow the Space Station by one module. We accomplished this feat, and I thought that action would be my “Aha” moment, but that paled in comparison to what happened next.

The Space Station commander, Peggy Whitson, invited us over to the Russian segment to have a meal. She said, “You guys bring the rehydrated vegetables from the shuttle; we’ll have the meat.” So we floated over with a bag of vegetables. We get to the Russian segment, the Zarya, which means “sunrise” in Russian, and it’s like I’m in my mother’s home.

The smell of meat getting heated up. Their beef and barley, our green beans with almonds, all being shared with people that we used to fight against—the Russians and the Germans. As we broke bread, going around the planet every 90 minutes, seeing a sunrise and a sunset every 45, I thought about the people I’m now trusting with my life. African-American, Asian-American, French, German, Russian, the first female commander of the International Space Station. Floating food to each other’s mouths all while listening to Sade’s “Smooth Operator.”

This was the moment. This was when my brain cognitively shifted, and I felt united with everyone on the planet. I thought about my race—the human race—as we connected and worked together.

I looked at the planet in a different way after that meal. I saw places where there were war and unrest, but from my vantage point, it was beautiful, serene, sublime.

Perspective was not something I thought much about during my training. The cognitive shift astronauts get when they go to space is called the “Overview Effect.” It humbles you and makes you feel different about how you are tied to the world—the universe. The 50th anniversary of the July 20, 1969, moon landing was not something I thought about even while shooting images of the moon. The sacrifices made by our scientists, engineers, families, NASA astronauts, our country were all charged from president Kennedy less than 10 years earlier to do something much bigger than our individual selves.

We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too. — President John F. Kennedy

I now reflect back on those sacrifices and what part I play to help inspire that next generation of Neil Armstrongs or Buzz Aldrins to do what seems difficult, hard, or even impossible. My part is to share my off-planet experiences as best I can in pictures, words, video, or presentations to convey a perspective shift. Going to space is transformative on so many different levels. I tell future explorers that when you work with others, make sure you work together as a team. Learn to see all people as potential space travelers together no matter what language they speak, no matter what they look like, and no matter what food they eat and know that we’re all in this together. Work hard and share the fun.

All pictures were taken with either a Kodak DCS760c Electronic Still Camera or a Nikon D2Xs Electronic Still Camera with an assortment of Nikon lenses. All images were taken from the International Space Station or Space Shuttle Atlantis in February 2008 or November 2009 by Leland Melvin.

Learn more about Leland Melvin at lelandmelvin.com.