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As I reflect on my journey toward becoming a nature interpreter, I realize that the foundation of my ethic is rooted in the belief that fostering a love for the natural world is one of the most powerful ways to inspire long-term environmental stewardship. Through my experiences, particularly with a background in working with children, I’ve come to understand that the most enduring memories and connections to the environment often begin in childhood. This early spark can shape how individuals relate to nature throughout their lives, influencing how they advocate for the planet.

As I continue to develop in this field, and from what I have gathered in this course, I understand there is a lot of work required to successfully strike a balance between imparting knowledge, inspiring curiosity, and empowering others to connect with the natural world in a meaningful way. For me, nature interpretation, and many of my previous jobs haven't just been about conveying facts— it’s about cultivating a sense of wonder and inspiration. Specifically for nature interpretation its about imparting a sense of responsibility and a sense of care for the Earth that will last a lifetime.

One of the key principles that shapes my personal perspective is the deep conviction that fostering a love for nature in children is essential for the future of the planet. This belief stems from my own experiences of watching young learners light up with wonder during hands-on, community STEM workshops in my previous job, and it is reinforced by insights from environmental educators like Jacob Rodenburg, who emphasizes the importance of creating nature-rich experiences for children (Rodenburg, 2019).

Looking back at the Unit 1 posts for this course— I personally wrote about my childhood nature experiences, and how that had the biggest impact on my relationship with nature. Specifically, my cottage. Even looking at my most recent post— the natural phenomena I find most amazing is tied to fond childhood memories of watching fireflies dance in the night. Looking back at my favourite memories in nature, there always seems to be a magical quality to childhood memories. Whether it's simply the innocence and childlike wonder we're remembering feeling, or just feeling nostalgic for the past, there's something extra special about our experiences as children. I truly believe that the experiences I had in nature as a child are the most impactful ones, because they just have an extra emotional kick to them. Growing up spending summers at my family cottage is a central part of my relationship to nature, and my life in general. Whether it was early mornings spent fishing with Dad, long hikes through the woods with my neighbours and sister, or simply observing the subtle changes in the landscape throughout the seasons. There is one tree by the lake, a little maple tree, that always turns a deep red by the end of August, way before the rest of the trees do. Seeing this tree go red year after year has become an important marker in my life of change. Each time I see it, I know that summer is coming to an end soon, and that the fall is on it's way. My childhood experiences at my cottage, and even further on in my life, have taught me to value the simplicity of nature— it offers both peace and profound lessons. For example, moments like watching a sunset, hearing the call of a loon, or noticing the colour change of the trees became more than just pleasant experiences for me; they became moments of reflection, connection, and gratitude.

As I've been thinking about the part that my childhood experiences played in me becoming such an avid lover of the outdoors, I can't help but return to the concept of a "sense of place". Having thought about this, I definitely believe that a strong sense of place in nature often stems from positive experiences in nature as a kid. When you grow up surrounded by nature, you can't help but feel more and more enveloped by it, and I feel like my sense of belonging has only grown throughout time at special places like my cottage. Fostering a connection to a specific place is something that Rodenburg emphasized in his article (Rodenburg, 2019). Just as I have personally developed a deep connection to a unique place, so has everyone else in this course. I think the fact that my connection began when I was little, I almost perceive those places as a "magical place" that I can return to. It's a certain feeling that I'm not entirely sure how to describe, but I can certainly say that this is a central motivation that would guide me as a nature interpreter— to help children and adults develop a sense of ownership and familiarity with the places they explore.

Today, the challenges facing the environment— from climate change to species extinction— can feel overwhelming. I have definitely felt defeated at many times, especially when I am actively taking environmental science courses and learning more and more about the issues we face. As Rodenburg points out, the weight of these issues often leads educators to feel like they’re trying to stop a rushing river with a teaspoon (Rodenburg, 2019). The urgency to address these complex problems is real, but I firmly believe that the role of a nature interpreter, particularly when working with children, is to ignite hope and wonder, rather than burden young minds with the enormity of global crises. If I am struggling to manage my own emotions on these problems at 21, it would certainly unfair to put those problems on the shoulders of a child. This approach aligns with my ethic: fostering connections to nature in ways that empower children to care for the world around them, without overwhelming them with the dire realities of environmental degradation. I think this concept can be applied to pretty much anything in life— if you fill people's heads with negativity, they start to feel defeated, and are not motivated to do anything about it. A lot of the news nowadays is so extremely pessimistic, and it can sometimes feel like the world is too far gone to change. I truly believe that the world's most prominent environmental activists and nature interpreters didn't fall in love with the planet because it was dying. They fell in love because of the beauty and wonder they experienced one or many times in their life or childhood. So to rob children of the opportunity to innocently explore nature, without having to worry if tomorrow it won't be there, I think will be damaging to future conservation efforts, and also to their personal relationships with the environment. The next generation is depending on us, and we have a responsibility to provide unburdened activities where children can grow and learn outdoors. Until they're old enough to tackle these issues alongside us, it's better we leave them out of that conversation.

So long story short, I personally hold the belief that children don’t need to be lectured about global warming or pollution at a young age, but rather encouraged to explore, discover, and build relationships with the land they live on. Rodenburg emphasizes that younger children aren’t yet cognitively ready to grasp the complexities of environmental issues, but they are always ready to love nature (Rodenburg, 2019). As a nature interpreter, my responsibility is to nurture that love by providing experiences that spark awe and curiosity. I’ve witnessed firsthand how powerful these moments can be— whether it's a child’s delighted reaction to finding a salamander under a log or their awe at the beauty of a tiny insect in the grass. One of the most special memories I can recall from being a STEM Community Presenter, are the times during a workshop where the kids would combine baking soda and vinegar, and were always delighted at the fizzy reaction that ensued. Watching their faces light up, having them turn to me for an explanation, and then watching the gears turn in their head as they understood what was happening in front of them really felt like I was fostering the first of many moments of falling in love with science. I truly believe the same should be striven for in the case of nature interpreters. These experiences don’t just build knowledge; they create an emotional bond with the environment that will last a lifetime.

Personally, when I consider what I would love to do as a nature interpreter, I am really excited about the prospect of using art as a bridge to nature. I have always been a bit of a creative mind, since I was young I have loved drawing and painting with watercolours. In the past I have also been a camp counsellor at arts camps. Since taking this course, I have looked back on many of my artworks and found a common theme of always painting stuff that I loved or was passionate about. With this in mind, I believe that art, something that can be so emotionally powerful, is a fantastic tool to foster love for the environment (which we have certainly seen in Unit 4!). Creating art— whether it’s sketching plants, painting landscapes, or capturing wildlife in a work of art— enhances your understanding and appreciation of the natural world. For me, I responsibility I would like to uphold would be showing that art can be more than a hobby; it can be a way to reflect on nature’s beauty, its intricacies, and its rhythms. In a future setting, as a nature interpreter facilitating activities, I believe I would excel at designing art activities to help children capture the beauty of the environments around them, making them more mindful and observant of even the smallest details in nature.

Overall, as someone who is a lover of both arts and science, I would love for my future nature interpretation journey to be about blending beauty with facts. Whether it's understanding an ecosystem, identifying insect or plant species, or observing animal behaviour— I think it will be so important to also foster an appreciation for its aesthetic and emotional aspects. I would love to create activities that combine observation with creation. For instance, I would love to encourage nature journaling, sketching, and storytelling to help people see nature from both and intellectual and an emotional perspective. And specifically to children, this kind of dual approach could help them engage and fall in love with nature on multiple levels, fostering both their scientific understanding and their creative imagination.

To quickly touch on a belief that I bring to nature interpretation, I truly believe that mentors are a key part of who and where I am today. Whether it be parents, teachers, or other influential figures in my life, they have shaped my journey through their guidance and encouragement. Although looking back it may seem insignificant, teachers who brought my elementary classes on field trips to outdoor conservation areas, to art museums, or to the science center, all provided me with formative experiences. These trips and the mentors who organized them helped me see the value in nurturing relationships with the things that inspire you, and nature is certainly one of them. In my journey of nature interpretation, my goal would be to become a mentor to others, particularly children. I aspire to provide the same kind of guidance and inspiration that my mentors gave me, whether it's through sharing knowledge, fostering creativity and freedom, or simply offering a listening ear.

Lasltly, I'd like to discuss how this course has been a reminder that my personal journey with nature is ongoing. I just spoke a lot about how childhood is the most important part where a deep connection to nature begins, but that doesn't mean that as an adult we aren't capable of growth and progress. Loving nature can be a lifelong process of discovery and learning, and I find that this mindset is an inspiring way to frame my approach to nature interpretation. Nature, a lot like art, is always in flux, and my role as a nature interpreter would be to help others embrace that flux and be open to new discoveries. Whether that will be through scientific exploration, creative expression, or personal reflection, I am yet to see.

As a closing note, I just wanted to mention that I have thoroughly appreciated this course this semester. I have been working with a busier schedule than I ever have before, and my classwork and courses are typically a reason for me to stay inside and work. However, this course this semester provided a fantastic weekly reminder to take time for myself, and spend time outside. I believe it was very beneficial to my mental health, and has made me subscribe to the ideals of nature interpretation— most of all what it can provide to our spirits and our souls. Spreading that love for nature this semester has been extremely rewarding. Thanks so much for reading!

It was also quite interesting how you connected your post back to your older blog posts. When you mention your experiences working with children and how you wish to share your love of nature with them, I can’t help but think of my own experiences working with children. Now albeit these are my cousins who are aged 2-12 but they are absolutely in love with being outside. Often they wish to go on walks especially when it is warm and they often love looking at different wildlife such as squirrels and create artwork on what they see when they get home.

As an ex-Catholic, I spent a good amount of time in my teens thinking about how my personal ethics and rules on morality both differ from and sometimes agree with Catholicism. However, I haven’t really taken the time since  then to extend my personal ethics past post-Catholic discourse and relate it to my environmental values. I think it’s very valuable to be aware of your own ethical stances in terms of interpretation. Our ethics are the filter that shapes how we interpret nature, whether or not we acknowledge it. And that interpretation is then past on to our audience.

The first belief I bring to nature interpretation is kindness. Showing kindness to the nature around us means walking lightly and respectfully as we explore. Showing kindness to each other means creating a space where everyone feels able to ask questions and learn. I believe that kindness is one of the key elements that goes into creating a welcoming environment. And welcoming environments set up the possibility for growth and learning.

I also believe that curiosity and discovery lead to caring. It’s very difficult to care about something that you don’t know much about. But by encouraging questions, sharing facts/stories, and pointing out the beauty all around us, a nature interpreter can create connections between their audience and nature. In tandem with curiosity and discovery, is the power of awe. I want to get people excited about that cliff, that leaf, that creek. Wonder is a very powerful tool.

Spent a very long time staring at this view awestruck when I visited Vancouver last summer

Interpretation also comes with many responsibilities. When you act as a nature interpreter, people are putting their trust in you to act responsibly in your role. The basis of this trust is safety. Like we learned from the Timiskaming Tragedy, a lot of things can go wrong in outdoor education spaces. Physical safety means being prepared for hazards, natural disasters and changing weather. But emotional safety also play an important role. Words have power. And that power can be used to harm others if wielded carelessly or irresponsibly. Sensitive topics have to be addressed with care and nuance. Your audience should feel welcome and included in the space you create, through the language used and interpretation employed.

I also think that nature interpreters have a responsibility to convey accuracy whenever possible. This is especially important when interpreting for children, who may not have the skills to properly fact-check your claims. Adult audiences also deserve access to well researched and meaningful information. Working as a nature interpreter means positioning yourself as an expert, and your audience is placing their trust in you to know what you are talking about. I believe in putting in the time and effort to research a topic fully before you share it with others.

There are several interpretation approaches that work best for me as an individual. And those approaches vary greatly by age group. For kids, who often have short attention spans, I think that exploration and games work best. Exploration allows kids to experience nature on their own terms and form a more personal relationship with the world around them. It also allows for the reintroduction of unstructured play that is missing from many kids lives. Giving kids a magnifying glass and a simple objective (eg. “Find as many colour as you can!”) gives them the opportunity to look closer at their surroundings and discover something new.

Games are also a powerful tool for interpretation. Minds often wander during lengthy explanation, but games keep kids focused and their attention on the task at hand. They can also help simplify complex topics and break them down into bite sized pieces. As an example, at my summer job last year, I ran a workshop for 10–12 year-olds who were planting a pollinator garden at their school. I wanted to convey the importance of building new pollinator habitat and introduce them to the concept of habitat fragmentation. So, I created a game that was kind of a mashup of musical chairs and shrinking islands. I placed picnic blankets (“habitats”) on the floor and told the children to pretend to be their favorite pollinator. As the music played, they could fly around, and when it stopped, they needed to find a habitat to stand on. As the game progressed, the habitats kept getting smaller and smaller as I folded down the picnic blankets to represent habitat destruction. Near the end of the game, we added another picnic blanket to represent the new habitat the students were creating. The game showed the students the importance of their garden, while also engaging them with the power of fun.

For adults, I think the best approaches for me to use are storytelling and writing. Stories have staying power, and also allow people to come to their own conclusions in a very fluid way. If I tell you about how I tried (and failed) to stop a park tree from being cut down when I was in the second grade, the take home message can be very different depending on how I spin the story and your own personal beliefs. You might walk away thinking about the importance of urban trees, the emotional bonds kids form with nature, or how privilege impacts how people engage with activism.

Article from The Stoney Creek News

From a personal standpoint, I think that writing is an approach that I am very drawn to. I enjoy the act of writing and like that I can fine-tune my words until I am satisfied. Evocative language can really come alive on the page, and writing allows lots of space for larger ideas to be explored. And, as a creative writing and ecology student, writing about nature in an interpretive way seems like the natural way to blend my two areas of study.

For this weeks blog prompt I would like to focus on some smaller critters that make up the nature around us everyday. While they might not necessarily be deemed the ‘most amazing thing’ about nature overall, I feel like these animals get a lot of flack. Oftentimes we brush them aside as pests and think they are disposable, yet every animal contributes to the ecosystem in some shape or form. I think the podcast assignment has helped to further shape my opinion on this topic. My group decided to focus specifically on the ways in which Monarch butterflies (and other pollinators) contribute to ecosystems, and the economy. Pollinators are responsible for 1 in 3 bites of food we eat, and not to mention they are responsible for adding 217 billion dollars to our global economy (About Pollinators, 2024). Essentially my point is that the creatures that might seem small and irrelevant are truly the backbone of a lot of the processes we rely on. 

Although we might not necessarily depend on them anymore, I’d like to talk about every city slickers headache, pigeons! While they might seem annoying and overpopulated, pigeons were domesticated and “once a vital part of human culture and society” (Dzikiewicz, 2018). Once used for food in the Middle East and Europe, these birds also had a knack for finding their way home when they strayed (Dzikiewicz, 2018). This lead to them being used as messengers about 3,000 years ago, sent between cities in Rome to announce Olympic wining results; some pigeons were responsible for systematic messaging from Asia all the way to Eastern Europe (Dzikiewicz, 2018). Pigeons were even used as messengers until a little after WWII, which was only 79 years ago (Dzikiewicz, 2018). As technology evolved and communication methods became more accessible, the use of pigeons was diminished. Now they are regarded as these pests, with many not aware of their intelligence and importance to our history. 

Another animal with a bad reputation that I find interesting are squirrels. While they might wreak havoc if they manage to get into your attic, these little critters contribute to our environment through seed dispersal. With a single squirrel responsible for burying up to 3,000 nuts per season, we can thank them for a lot of our tree and plant growth (Bryce, 2024). Squirrels use tactics like larder hoarding where they bury their whole stash into one or two locations, or scatter hoarding, where they divide the stash up (Bryce, 2024). They have even been known to trick other squirrels by pretending to bury nuts, a creative take on intraspecific competition.

 All in all I think animals that we deem as useless are actually very important in keeping our environment thriving. Just because we do not deem pigeons useful anymore does not mean they do not deserve respect for the help they have given us in the past. Nature is not disposable just because we no longer have a use for its smaller pieces in the puzzle. Lastly, they are both very cute and that should be enough to care. 

References:

About Pollinators. (2024). Pollinators need you. You need pollinators. Pollinator.org. https://www.pollinator.org/pollinators#:~:text=Birds%2C%20bats%2C%20butterflies%2C%20moths,move%20from%20spot%20to%20spot. 

Bryce, E. (2024). Do squirrels remember where they buried their nuts?. Scientific American. https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/do-squirrels-remember-where-they-buried-their-nuts/ 

I want to dive a little deeper into the historical significance of pigeons. Pigeons were messengers between countries, games and even wars. They have served a very vital part in building human history but they are not valued as much these days. Yes this is partly due to their domestication, however in nature interpretation we value the cultural impacts as well. Usually when we talk about culture and nature, it involves ancient Indigenous practices and how they tell stories on how to preserve and care for our land, however the ability to pass information between 2 cultures and to help society evolve allows me to believe that animals have helped us build new cultural values as well. Pigeons, although they have been domesticated, still have a purpose in the urban ecosystem. As primary consumers, their population is able to support predation and are also an important food source for prey (Capoccia et al., 2018). 

References

Music and nature, in turn, are related in such a way that it would appear to spring from the same language-that of speaking to our emotion and experiences with no words. As we start to make an exploration of the role that music might play in environmental interpretation, we may observe how both music and nature evoke something more than or beyond facts to take us closer to the heart of the matter.

The first beginning of trying to be conscious of the place of music in nature has something of the effect of tuning into an ongoing concert. The rustling of leaves, the whispered caress, and the chorus of birds at sunrise: all part of a natural symphony. One soundscape ecologist, Bernie Krause, has long advanced the idea that ecosystems have an acoustic signature-or "biophonies." He says each landscape has its own unique mix of natural sound-its own song, essentially-and those soundscapes can tell us much about the health of the environment. I feel that when we take time to listen, it would seem that nature has always been "composing" music; we simply need to be attentive enough to hear it.

Next, we consider the reverse: Where is nature in music? For many, certain songs immediately transport them to a natural landscape. Personally, the song by John Denver, "Take Me Home, Country Roads," evokes memories of road trips through mountains and forests, further reinforcing the emotional connection between music and place. This is not unique to me, for music has long been used to evoke place or connection with the land. Songs, stories, and dances are deeply rooted in Indigenous cultures with the natural environment and are tools to help in the conveyance and transmission of relevant knowledge about nature. This in turn reinforces the view that music, like nature, is a connecting entity to comprehend and conserve the world outside.

Nature interpretation with the inclusion of music might also afford new ways of engagement. According to Tilden's third principle of interpretation, "Interpretation is an art, which combines many arts". If we combine music with our interpretive programs, the experiences become educational and touching. Especially, attention should be drawn to how Ben Mirin used the recordings of birdsong within his performances of beatboxing, to creatively blend the arts and environmental interpretation in both engaging an audience and fostering a deeper connection with wildlife.

Music and nature are powerful interpretive tools; together they allow us to create transformative experiences. By borrowing from natural soundscapes or using music as a storytelling device, we can facilitate others in seeing-and more importantly feel the need to conserve the landscapes we interpret. We interpreters should embrace the arts not just for entertainment, but to inspire stewardship and connective relationships with the natural world.

References:

Krause, B. (2012). The Great Animal Orchestra: Finding the Origins of Music in the World's Wild Places. Little, Brown and Company.

Mills, A. (1996). Eagle Down Is Our Law: Witsuwit'en Law, Feasts, and Land Claims. UBC Press.

Also it can be used as a great multiple learning approach! The music brings an auditory element and nature brings a visual element, both combined bring 2 approaches to viewing nature and brings a holistic experience. It is also a great way for nature interpreters to incorporate music into their approaches. 

“There is no peculiar merit in ancient things, but there is merit in integrity, and integrity entails the keeping together of the parts of any whole, and if these parts are scattered throughout time, then the maintenance of integrity entails a knowledge, a memory, of ancient things. …. To think, feel or act as though the past is done with, is equivalent to believing that a railway station through which our train has just passed, only existed for as long as our train was in it.”

(Edward Hyams, Chapter 7, The Gifts of Interpretation)

This is quite a curious quote. If I had to make sense of it, in short, it means that even though the past is behind us, it’s important to take its lessons forward with us.

“There is no peculiar merit in ancient things, but there is merit in integrity”. What this line is trying to explain is that there isn’t necessarily any importance to the past- it is, simply put, the past, a thing that happened. There isn’t a merit in the things of the past, but, there is a merit to integrity. According to Oxford languages, “integrity” can be summarized as “the quality of being honest and having strong moral principles; moral uprightness”, and likewise “the state of being whole and undivided”. Both definitions fit what the past, and history, provide- For the former, part of acknowledging the past is about being “responsible” for it- showing responsibility for the actions and events of the past (after all, they did happen and we must accept that) is a way to be “honest” and maintain strong moral uprightness. Likewise, the latter quote stands true- the event of the past did make us/the world as it is today, and it’s important to acknowledge that the past holds a piece of us. After all, “integrity entails the keeping together the parts of any whole”, and they are very correct when they say these parts are scattered throughout time- through our history.

Part of maintaining integrity is accepting the past as it is and learning from it, taking the lessons forwards in time. Pretending the past doesn’t exist is, as they said, like “believing that a railway station through which our train has just passed, only existed for as long as our train was in it”. I mentioned, earlier, that the past is just a thing that happened, but is the past ever truly “over”? Every moment that passes is another addition to the railroad that is life, another sleeper (the often wooden bar between rails) holding the rails in place. Each railway station is an important event and a lesson learned, but just because we are no longer actively perceiving it like we are the present doesn’t mean it never existed or never mattered. It would be foolish to think this way, and therefore it’s foolish to think there’s nothing else we can learn from the past.

I was brought up in Eldoret, a town that rests in the heart of Kenya, near one of the greatest natural wonders on Earth, the Rift Valley. The sheer scale of the Rift Valley, the largest of its kind, has always been a breathtaking sight for me. Spanning thousands of kilometers from Lebanon in the north to Mozambique in the south, the Great Rift Valley runs through Kenya, carving out a beautiful landscape that is both vast and rugged. Its significance in shaping nature and the lives of the people who live near it, including my own, is immense.

An image of the Rift Valley captured from the valley floor. See if you can spot the waterfall in the image above.

As a child growing up near the valley, I remember standing on its edge, staring into the seemingly endless horizon. The Rift Valley is more than just a geographical feature; it is a living, breathing ecosystem that has a dynamic relationship with the wildlife, vegetation, and communities that inhabit it. The valley is a cradle of biodiversity, home to a range of ecosystems from dry savannas and wide grasslands, dramatic escarpments and fertile plains.

An image of the Rift Valley taken from the edge.

Nature in the Rift Valley is something I came to appreciate deeply. The valley is a host to countless animals, including some of the most iconic species of East Africa, such as elephants, giraffes, zebras, and lions. The wide plains of the valley offer these animals plenty of space to roam, and it is not uncommon to witness them in their natural habitat when visiting nearby national parks like the Maasai Mara. The Rift Valley lakes, including Lake Naivasha and Lake Nakuru, are vital water sources for these creatures, making the valley a true haven for wildlife.

The valley's landscape is marked by dramatic features that are a testament to the forces of nature at work over millions of years. The escarpments, which rise steeply from the valley floor, provide stunning views that capture the vastness of the land. Standing at the edge of these cliffs, one can appreciate the sheer scale and geological history of the valley. It’s humbling to think that the Rift Valley was formed as a result of tectonic forces, with the earth’s crust pulling apart, creating the gaping chasm that now defines the region.

Hey everyone!

This week's topic is definitely more serious, but it is something that needs to be addressed. I would describe my definition of privilege as certain individuals being put at a certain advantage for reasons such as race, gender, sexuality, physical ability, and socioeconomic status. People are usually born with privilege for any of those reasons listed above, as we cannot choose how we are born. I am a straight white woman in the middle class with no physical disabilities, meaning I have been privileged for most of my life. After reading through this week's unit, it has been very eye-opening for me. It is always easy to say that you acknowledge and can understand your privilege, but unless you are in the shoes of somebody else, you will never understand the full extent of it. 

Although it may not be obvious, privilege unfortunately does play a role in nature interpretation. An example that stood out to me is being in perfect physical health. Around 2.7 million people in Canada have a mobility disability. This implies that there are many opportunities that they do not have regarding nature interpretation. For example, going on certain hikes. It is much more difficult for an individual in a wheelchair to climb a mountain or a demanding trail with rocky terrain. Individuals without disabilities frequently have greater freedom to venture into difficult terrain or partake in demanding outdoor activities. Because many parks and trails are not made to be accessible, people with disabilities may have varied experiences in natural settings.

Another example that is important to acknowledge is economic privilege. Marginalized groups are frequently negatively impacted by environmental degradation. For instance, low-income areas may be closer to pollution sources or lack adequate green space. It is also important to note that many beautiful places around the world cost money to go see. For example, the Grand Canyon National Park requires a certain fee to visit it. Not only does it require a fee, but for those who don’t live near those places, a plane ride would be required which would cost even more money. And if an individual does live close enough, they would require a car to get there, which would cost money again for gas and insurance. Many people do not have access to a car meaning they cannot go see many areas of nature unless there is a bus that could take them there. 

There’s something truly magical about sharing the hidden world beneath the waves. In my ideal role as an environmental interpreter, I picture myself guiding groups through aquariums and along the rugged coastal waters of Bonne Bay, offering visitors a deeper understanding of marine life and the incredible ecosystems that exist just below the surface. This role is quite specific because, when applying for co-op jobs for the summer, it was one of the positions that really excited me. Every time I thought about it, it brought me such joy. Unfortunately, I did not get the job, but it still comforts me to know that opportunities like this are available in my program.

(Image:https://bontours.ca/bonne-bay-water-shuttle/) This is where research center s located.

in this role, I imagine leading a variety of tours—from walking visitors through the bustling aquarium and research station to guiding them along tide pools with Parks Canada. Each experience would offer a unique opportunity to connect people with the wonders of marine life, from the tiniest starfish clinging to rocks to the vibrant communities of fish swimming in the depths.

My work wouldn’t just stop at guiding tours, though. I’d also take on the hands-on tasks that keep these ecosystems thriving—collecting and caring for marine organisms, maintaining the tanks, and feeding the diverse species that call the aquarium home. This balance between sharing knowledge with visitors and directly caring for marine life is what excites me most about this vision.

With on-site training to dive deep into the natural history of Bonne Bay, I’d have the chance to explore the local environment and gain firsthand experience with the creatures that make this region special. From field trips to collect specimens to learning the ins and outs of aquarium system maintenance, this role would not only challenge me but deepen my connection to the marine world I’m so passionate about.

One of my biggest strengths is connecting with people. After working in customer service for years, I’ve gotten really good at making sure people feel heard and understood. Whether I’m chatting with a group of curious kids at the aquarium or explaining marine life to visitors during a tour, I know how to break things down in a way that makes sense to different people.

I’ve also learned how to roll with the punches. Working in customer service taught me to think on my feet, so I’m great at adapting to unexpected situations. This is perfect for a role where every day is different, whether I’m leading a tour and need to change things up to keep people engaged or dealing with something unexpected, like the weather or a surprise question.

Plus, with my environmental science background, I’ve got the knowledge to back it all up. I’m always thinking about how to present info in a way that clicks with different learning styles, whether people learn best by listening, seeing, or doing. My goal is to create experiences that not only teach people but also make them care about the marine life and ecosystems we’re exploring together.

Nature has always been a part of my life. From playing soccer with my team on cool morning grass, or enjoying recess under the scorching lunchtime sun in primary school, it has been a constant presence in my life. The town I grew up in may be suburban, but it has consistently made great efforts to incorporate greenery and natural elements throughout the community. While I’ve always had a soft spot for the earthy tones that surround me in natural environments, my past feelings have been more of a passive appreciation. I rarely gave a second thought to the field I played on or the leaves I brushed past during bike rides; I admittedly took it for granted.

Everything changed when COVID hit. My primary connection to nature—playing soccer—was taken away when quarantine restrictions were announced. This led me into a pretty dull period in my life; I couldn't play the sport I loved, see my friends or extended family, and our time outdoors was restricted to prevent the virus from spreading. I felt lost since most of my hobbies involved spending time with others. One morning, when restrictions were slightly lifted, I decided to go for a walk to get out of the house - little did I know how transformative this decision would be. That one walk turned into a daily routine, sometimes going twice a day. I was able to explore different parts of my town that I never knew existed. As an example, I was aware of the harbour in my town, but I didn’t know its history. The town’s founder built the harbour, but shortly after, the town faced a recession. The only reason my town and the harbour survived the depression was from trading strawberries. I would have never learned this fun fact if it weren’t for my curiosity and eagerness to explore the environment around me.

During COVID, I saw these walks and hikes as a much-needed escape from the chaos of the world around me. Walking those same paths now serves as a reminder of how far I’ve come and all that I’ve been able to accomplish since those times. My interpretation of the environment that has surrounded me for years has drastically changed since before COVID. Today, I sometimes take close friends and families along those routes, and I share my history in hopes of inspiring them. I’ve developed a special bond with nature, along with newfound respect and admiration for its ability to support me in times of need. Whenever I feel stressed about life (school, friends, etc.), I can take a walk to clear my head and find peace. I feel grateful to myself for discovering that nature could be my ‘Raison D’Etre’ during tough times. Although I’ve only explored places in my hometown and Guelph, I’m eager to discover and visit more natural interpretive sites in the future!