a career in conservation

“So what’s next for you?” asks every single person as soon as I tell them I just finished my master’s degree.

It’s a natural question, and I’m never surprised when people ask, but it elicits a certain sense of dread. I’m sure other post-grads can relate.

And because I chose to study ecology during a time when sustainability and environmental science are more important than ever, there’s an added pressure that I do something really important with my degree, that I utilize it to its fullest potential.

The environmental sector has grown dramatically over the last couple decades and expanded to include sustainability at the highest corporate levels. In the past, a career in conservation was reserved for more “crunchy granola” jobs like park rangers or field scientists, but now you can be the sustainability director for Victoria’s Secret (a job one of my peers actually had).

I think it’s amazing that there are so many more options for environmental jobs and that sustainability is becoming mainstream. But I went into ecology because I love nature and the outdoors and learning about the Earth by experiencing what it has to offer.

So as my former classmates accepted jobs as environmental consultants, GIS analysts, and science educators, I felt a growing sense of panic at the prospect of working a 9-5 in the corporate sustainability sphere.

With all of this on my mind, I spent my last summer vacation ever on the rivers of Arizona and Idaho. I won’t go into detail – I’ve written about it before – but I loved it out there, and I had the kind of life-changing epiphany one expects to have in some of the most beautiful and wild landscapes in the country.

I don’t want a “career in conservation” or a “job in ecology.” I want a career doing conservation, a job participating in ecology.

I’ve also spent the last 20 years of my life in school, learning by studying and reading and experimenting. I want to try learning things in a different way.

So instead of applying for a typical job, I joined a conservation corps in the Southwest. It’s essentially AmeriCorps, but conducted through a conservation organization, so I’ll be out in the backcountry every week, doing things like trail maintenance, invasive species removal, and wildfire hazard mitigation.

I think it’s going to entail a lot of hard, dirty work, freezing cold nights, and heavy backpacks. But I’ll get to make a positive, tangible difference in some of the most amazing places in the world.

And it’s only a 6 month gig, so when spring rolls around, I want to get back on the river, hopefully behind the oars. Just as I’ve realized how important it is to physically engage in conservation work, I’ve come to see how outdoor recreation, when performed ethically and responsibly, can be an invaluable space for teaching and learning about ecology. And of course, I think it’s a lot of fun.

As much as I feel like the work I’m doing is important, it’s also an incredible privilege to get to pursue this path. Not everyone has the freedom to follow their passions and risk the potential financial consequences. Not everyone has the luxury of getting a graduate degree. I’m excited about my future, but I think it’s crucial to recognize the gift I’ve been given and to share it as much as possible.

One way I try to do that is through writing. I’ve been having a wonderful time writing these pieces for everyday environmentalism, sharing things that I hope people are interested in learning about.

And I’ll continue to do so, though probably less frequently as I start my conservation corps job (no internet in the backcountry). So expect new content every other week, instead of every week, and expect to read more about backcountry camping, conservation work, and the American Southwest.

I’m excited to start this job and to share all that I learn along the way. And to be honest, I’m also excited to tell everyone that “what’s next for me” is being a dirty, trail mix-eating, Carhartt-wearing, ecology-obsessed conservation corps member in the Arizona wilderness. Now that’s a career in conservation.