Haley Holmes '13 Recruiting Profile

For my entire life, I have wanted to be an animal conservationist. I would sit in front of the television, watching Jeff Corwin and Steve Irwin with wide blue eyes, absorbing every fact and whispering scientific names. Every night, I dreamed I was roaming the savannas of Africa or trekking the mossy forests of South America. I imagined I would pet African lions, ride Grebe’s zebras, and run with herds of American buffalo. But every morning I would wake up to adults telling me that wildlife conservation wouldn’t be the way I was imagining it to be. But I never believed them. I am a dreamer. For twelve years, I dreamed. I dragged my mother to the San Diego Zoo and the Wild Animal Park until I knew almost every animal by name. But it was not until my Junior year of high school that I finally learned the real life of a conservationist. My school offered my classmates and me an opportunity to intern at any organization we wanted; in my case: The Fund for Animals Wildlife Center. This association works in conjunction with the Humane Society as its wildlife branch. Here, they specialize in the care and rehabilitation of predatory animals including raptors, coyotes, bobcats, and mountain lions. I was accepted as an intern; the youngest they have ever accepted. A few weeks later, I toured the facilities to discover that not only did they have birds and bobcats, but a large African lion named Samson and a little gray Pygmy hippo named Hannah. In that moment, I knew I was home. The largest smile crossed my face because I knew that the boundaries between my dreams and my reality had been broken. The year had just changed from 2011 to 2012, and just like the year changed, so did my life. I began work the first week of January and worked blissfully until the end of the month. I learned how to clean cages, how to care for animals, how to cut up massive amounts of raw meat, how to medicate an animal, along with many other things. I was proving them wrong - all of those adults who told me that wildlife conservation wasn’t all that I made it out to be. I could handle raw meat, I could pick up fecal matter, I could handle the deaths of patients. Nothing could provoke me to leave. Because nothing was worth more to me than walking with the wild, lithe creatures I worked with and matching their mesmerizing stares. At the end of the month, I left, but not by choice. Even though I never wanted to leave, I had to return to the classroom, to further my studies. I am sure now that I want to  be a wildlife conservationist. Now, there aren’t any more grown-up questions filled with skepticism; only inquiries filled with respect.