Signpost

It's the same every year, but somehow, it's different every year. Spring term at OIMB sees a lot of visiting groups, classes from main campus that come down to explore the coast. One of the regulars is Bio 199, and I only know the class number because I've heard it repeated so many times around campus. It starts in March with e-mails, discussions, preliminary scheduling. Then eventually the grad students are volun-told when to show up and help out with various activities. I'm always responsible for taking the kids out on the boat to collect plankton samples and pull up a crab pot. I drag myself to the lab, corral my group, mechanically hand out life jackets, get the net set up.

And then some bright-eyed 19-year-old asks me a question, and I mentally jet off into the Land of Marine Biology Awesomeness.

You see, it just takes one enthusiastic future OIMBer to make my whole day worth it. There could be a whole class of kids listlessly dragging their feet on a field trip, but that one person with wide eyes, open ears, and a love of the ocean changes the whole mood. I actually surprised myself today by settling into Teacher Mode and rambling at these students about all the cool biodiversity in Oregon, my own dissertation research, volunteer opportunities in research labs. There were multiple enthusiastic listeners in the group, and I'd like to think I convinced at least one of them that marine biology is the coolest job in the world.

I'm reminded of all the grad students I encountered during my own undergrad years, who served as signposts for me and helped point me in the next right direction. Maybe, just maybe, I could be a signpost for someone else.

Talking to the undergrads. Let's be honest, I was probably telling
them something I work on is "so cool!" Photo by Craig Young.