Now that my 6-week summer Calculus class has ended, it’s finally starting to set in that I’ll soon be back to work, just in a different state this time! At the break of dawn on July 11th, I’ll be on a plane, heading out for my “People and Other Animals – Writing Wyoming” program.

I’m not sure how I feel, really. I’ve always been a “jump in first, ask questions later” type of person, and my participation in this program was no different. Originally, I was going to go to Switzerland for an engineering program, but a lack of participants rerouted me to my current program. It’s an interesting jump – hard science/math to anthropology, but the honors credits caught my attention, and an interest in nature and its preservation alongside human interests (which I think should be a core value in engineering, especially my chosen sector: civil engineering) is what got my registration turned in. So, I signed up rather quickly and refocused on my spring classes afterwards. The irony, though, is I’m an anxious person. So, by the time it hits that I’m going to have to navigate the airport alone and be in another state, away from family, for multiple weeks, I’m already committed to it all. So now, as it all sets in, I’m nervous, at the very least.

I don’t regret signing up, though. Getting to organically learn about how humans and animals have coexisted, getting to see untouched nature, getting to meet people who live more rural, self-sustained lives that differ greatly from my own…I suppose getting lost in the airport isn’t too bad a price to pay for those returns. In the long run, it’ll help me with my civil engineering degree, setting a foundation of understanding and care towards the natural world, even when most of my studies afterwards will focus on human-centered infrastructure. Beyond my degree, though, I think I really need this experience for the independence it offers. I’ve gone on far-from-home trips before, but never long-spanning trips, at least not without parents. So, finally jumping on an opportunity that forces me to get out into the big, wild world by myself, while nerve-racking, is much needed. That, and learning to budget food and comfort needs, as someone who still lives at home and commutes to college, are specific skills that, while small, are things I’ll need to learn on this trip and will be helpful in the future when I leave the comfort of the nest for my own place.

Beyond what I hope to get out of the trip, I don’t know that I’ve set many expectations. It’s not like I’m going to another country, so things like culture shock aren’t as big a deal for me as they are for others. Although I’m sure I’ll run into some slang and accents that give me pause. I rather think I’m approaching this as a blank slate, ready to learn. The world’s huge, and I’m still not even leaving the States. Why try to predict things when I can go in and just be surprised? Let the locals lead the way, let nature lead the way, and learn as I go (“jump in first, ask questions later”). Maybe that’s a naive way to think, or maybe it seems uninspiringly uninquisitive, but that’s my take; I don’t know what I don’t know, so I’ll just let the world lead the way and figure it out with time. I’ll take with me my interest, my love of nature and its wide-spanning, unpredictable beauty, and my desire to learn how to build a better, more sustainable future as an engineer. After that, I’m an empty glass, ready to be filled with the crystalline waters of Colorado and Wyoming and the reflections of the ranges and natives surrounding them.