Personal Statement

I also had to write a one page "Personal Statement" that describes a little bit about me as a person, and why my project is important.  I am not a fan of these kinds of statements as they can veer in a sometimes "cheesy" or even trite direction, but this is what I wrote.



I went kayaking last fall with 8-year-old Neil, a favorite student and family friend. Ever an educator, I was not about to pass up an opportunity to observe reptile behavior, in this case sunning turtles, up close. As Neil steered us toward a small creek enclosed by low hanging branches, I paused. “But there might be spiders,” I said. Puzzled, he turned to me and said, “But you’re CALLIE. You aren’t afraid of anything.” As I considered this, I realized he was probably right, as his interactions with me usually involved island explorations, scuba diving and shark stories, or alligator, snake, and lizard handling. What he doesn’t know is that these are a small set of practical skills that I have learned over the course of my lifetime, many of which were instilled in me by my family as a young girl.


I learned early on that life is precious. We lost my sister to Cystic Fibrosis when she was fourteen. She inspired me by choosing to live her life through experience rather than remain in the hospital in order to add an unknown amount of time to her lifespan. We would go camping, hiking, white water rafting, and spend as much time as we could with family. My best memories are of a Make-A-Wish trip on Disney’s Big Red Boat. Lizzie didn’t let any time go to waste, and jumping in the ocean to play with a live dolphin is only one example of the spirit she had. Of course, she convinced me to go with her. Through her, I learned to take advantage of opportunities that come along, and more, to value the quality of what I do more than the quantity.


My parents cemented this idea as I grew older. Mom has Multiple Sclerosis and can’t work, which meant that financial decisions were a big deal for us. Despite the emphasis on budgeting, ‘making do’ with what we had, and stress regarding bills, the message, “money is useful but not the most important thing in life,” was apparent. Considering these ‘life lessons,’ they encouraged me to engage in programs that would supplement my schooling, but made it clear that funding these opportunities would be up to me. I worked hard, not consciously recognizing how much this drove me to excel. I surprised them by how determined I was—I wanted to study Marine Biology and go sailing in California, and I did. I wanted to start an embroidery and graphic design business in 8th grade, and ended up taking over our basement and two other rooms before going to college and leaving the business in my parents’ capable hands.


These choices reflect my family values of practical skills and knowledge, independence, and respect. Each summer I explored a new environment, learning to sail, living and teaching on a barrier island, kayaking in the Pacific, and exploring New England as an environmental scientist. Eventually, my love of outdoor education became my career, and my first job combined my marine science and camp experience. I loved introducing students to new environments, seeing their faces as they experienced holding an animal for the first time. But it wasn’t enough—for though I knew they enjoyed my class, I could not tell how much understanding they really had.


So, I enrolled in a Master’s in Education program, to train as a secondary science teacher. There, I heard an instructor describe teaching as: “Go into the classroom. Shut the door, and it’s your domain for the next ninety minutes.” I was appalled by this description, as it goes against all my experiences and values. For me, closing the door represents ignoring the valuable knowledge and experience students bring with them, as well as the connections that can be made outside that class. My time observing turtle behavior with Neil, learning about forest ecosystems while camping with my family, or connecting marine biology course material with what I found while scuba diving would not be possible with a closed door. I want to be the kind of teacher that leaves the door open, allowing my students to connect to the bigger picture as I did.