Most people who know me have heard the story of how I ended up with a custom degree in Nature Photojournalism. For those of you who don’t know, I’ll keep the explanation short. As I progressed with wildlife biology courses at the University of Alaska Fairbanks, it seemed that lectures dealt less with wildlife and more with statistics, reports, and desk work. [Insert big yawn here.]
Did I really leave Michigan for ALASKA to get an education in how to research academic journals for references in “the literature” and how to number crunch? Absolutely not! I wanted a degree for a job that would keep me outside, either working with wildlife or being able to see it while on the job. Just think about it. Does Steph, a quiet ginger who doesn’t really talk in groups unless she has something she feels important enough to say, belong at a computer behind a desk or sitting in meetings? No. Does Steph, a quiet ginger who happily bikes through the snow, runs through the woods, and backpacks through New Zealand, belong outside in remote field camps with only a few other like-interested people? 100% yes.
Instead of slogging my way through courses that didn’t particularly interest me, I took my advisor’s and professors’ advice on changing majors. The only problem was that there wasn’t a degree for what I wanted to study; fortunately I managed to create my own degree through the interdisciplinary program. By combining courses in wildlife biology, natural resources management, and journalism to create a degree tailored to my interests, I graduated with a major in Nature Photojournalism and hopes for outdoor employment.
Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t feel like there’s enough freedom or happiness in offices full of cubicles. Life runs on a daily schedule, and generally people are expected to wear clothing other than Carhartts, hiking boots, and a plaid shirt. Where’s the fun in that?
I much prefer having the great outdoors as my office. Does it get better than this?
Field Season 1: Spectacled Eider research on the North Slope, Alaska
Field Season 2: Thick-billed Murre and Red-Legged Kittiwake research on St. George Island, Bering Sea, Alaska
Field Season 3: North Island Brown Kiwi research, Hauraki Gulf, New Zealand
Field Season 4: Wolf, caribou, moose, and deer scat research, Oil Sands of NE Alberta
Photos in the making. 🙂
Whew, my mind went off on a tangent. Wondering what the point of all those photos is? I’m just showing how much fun it is to work outside. I guarantee I’d have a collection of pretty boring photos or not many photos at all if I worked in an office. Instead, I just went on an emotional rollercoaster as I perused my files to somehow pick those select few photos shown above.
I’ve gotten the impression that some of my family thinks I’m being irresponsible and careless about the future by not searching for “permanent” jobs. I’m not setting up a 401K – I honestly still don’t even know what that’s for – or starting a retirement fund. I don’t have my own car or living space; my possessions are spread between Washington, a storage unit, and my parents’ in Michigan. (Many people don’t realize the beauty of most field jobs: no living expenses for months and months!)
I’m not my brother, who graduated from MIT with a computer science degree and an immediate permanent job at Mozilla Firefox in Cali. He loves travel and the outdoors just like I do (he’s through-hiked the Appalachian Trail and biked across the US), but he has the luxury of being able to work from virtually anywhere with an internet connection. He has a job he thoroughly enjoys, travel time, and a perfectly solid income. How many people can say that?
What’s my long term plan or career goal? Haha, that’s funny! I don’t know of a stable job I’d enjoy working for my whole life. (the key word being stable) All my field experiences have been unbelievable, and I’d gladly have continued those for months longer. Getting paid to travel for Outside magazine or something similar would be great, but it’s not as if I’m striving to get there now. The world of biology fieldwork is just too unpredictable for normal goal setting, so I can’t say which direction I’m headed in life. I’m intrigued by so many job postings that I could never possibly try everything I’d like.
My personal issue with the fieldwork realm is a strange one: I both hate and love change.
Before I left for college in Alaska, I’d never faced a big change. My family never moved, so home was always the same place surrounded by the same people. Going to Alaska was completely out of character, as I’m not the most outgoing person. Everything obviously turned out for the best seeing as how I had many remarkable experiences throughout my college years. Yet each time I left Fairbanks for a summer field job, I grew somewhat nervous and sad about leaving friends and comforts behind; I never really knew what to expect from my boss or job. However, by the time each field season drew to a close, I had plenty of tears to shed.
For many reasons I always fall in love with the unique places, experiences, and people with whom I work. My life has become a ridiculous cycle of happiness and agony. Please, don’t even ask me how I dealt with leaving New Zealand.
As much as a side of me longs for a nice house with a full kitchen, my own dog, and a normal schedule, there are too many adventures to be had. I want to do fieldwork in the Aleutians and Antarctica. I want to skydive over Glenorchy, NZ. I need to actually learn German. I could go on with wants and needs, but you really don’t want me to do that. 😉
So at least for now, this is me. Sorry that I don’t conform to the standard, but the standard doesn’t suit me. No, I probably won’t have much money for awhile, but just think of all the unusual experiences I’m having because of it! Since I have no boy or puppy to hold me back, I’m free to explore! I don’t care if that means sleeping in a car on random streets or living off the cereal/PB&J diet. In my opinion, that’s what the uncertainty of being a seasonal field technician is all about. (I’m pretty sure Bilbo would agree.)
