My Worldview
Growing up, I was never someone who needed people around me to have fun. I lived steps from the Washington, DC oasis known as Rock Creek Park, and nothing made me happier as a kid than running down the hill and under the asphalt bridge that connected the creek’s banks. As I would explore the narrow shoreline, sticking my feet in the water and marveling at colored rock pieces as if they were precious jewels, I’d make up stories in my head. Other times I would go to the creek just to think through a problem that frustrated me, or an emotion that made me confused, or a daydream that excited me. I credit all of that time spent in my own head as part of the reason that I know myself so well.
These precious hours spent discovering nature on my own terms fostered an appreciation in me. I learned from my mother to turn the lights off when I left a room, to use reusable cloth napkins at meals instead of paper ones, to recycle and compost and reuse. At nature camp, where I started as a student and later became a teacher, I gained concrete knowledge about the plants and animals I shared a backyard with. I learned how they lived and how humans were interfering and decided that I wanted to live my life helping them. Alongside poison ivy facts and the process for building bird blinds, I discovered how much fun it was to lead a group of campers in lessons, songs, and games, knowing that I was shaping their view of not just nature, but the world around them.
Curiosity has driven me and my pursuits for as long as I can remember. My parents encouraged me to ask questions and learn about the world around me, doing their best to respond to my random thoughts on car rides and at the dinner table. One of my favorite subjects to ponder was people: what made them act the way they did? During my first year of high school, on a class trip to New Orleans, I found some answers by picking up a book called “Psych 101: A Crash Course in the Science of the Mind.” The drive home was 24 hours straight, and I spent most of them reading about Skinner and Bandura and the Stanford Prison Experiment. It was settled: I was going to major in psychology to learn all there was to know about humans and their quirks.
Deciding to study both psychology and environmental studies in college seemed like a natural choice for me, a way to merge a subject that fascinated me and another one that was ingrained in my daily life. From my first day of undergrad, my majors seemed certain to me, even though everyone told me it was too early to know for sure. But my deep and authentic knowledge of myself propelled me to carve my own path, even though there were no classes in either department that discussed both behavioral science and climate change. I sought to incorporate behavioral science into every environmental studies course I took, and sustainability into all of my psychology classes.
Pursuing my own academic niche was one of the most impactful decisions I’ve ever made. The past four years have given me the confidence to tap into my curiosity, just as I always would when I was younger. Even in the past four years, I can tell that understanding the way humans think through and understand the climate crisis is becoming increasingly more important. More and more students are interested in both psychology and environmental studies, and I love getting to advise them on how easy it is to pursue both topics.
My curiosity has also influenced the journey I look forward to taking upon graduation. In my wildest of dreams, I travel the world, learning how humans perceive nature and the changing climate. I can see myself turning my findings into stories (visual, written, and/or auditory) that inspire and challenge people’s views of nature, sustainability, and cultural norms. As someone who has lived in the same house since she was born, I am ready to see more of the world and challenge myself to see life from various informed perspectives. Although I may stray far from my roots, I know my strong sense of self and willingness to try new things will keep me grounded for years to come.