A central value that shapes my teaching practice is that I want students to develop an appreciation for the diversity of life on this planet. Learning to recognize the plants and animals you see every day can open your eyes to a world previously unnoticed. It creates a stronger sense of place, prompts you to recognize seasonal changes, and is something students can take with them long after class has ended. These ideas guided the design of my syllabus for an undergraduate level ornithology course. I chose to make it accessible to students with no background in biology or ecology, because I believe courses like mine can be a great gateway for students to engage in formal learning about the natural world. One of the final projects is the Field Notebook assignment. Originally, this was a research paper, but I struggled with how to scaffold the assignment in a way that would discourage students from using AI. This led me to refer back to my learning objectives, and how they informed the structure of the course. I deliberately designed it around a strong field component so students would learn to identify birds in the context of their habitats. This is because I know the value of field skills, and how rare opportunities to develop them can be during undergrad. But it’s also because my overarching goal is for students to come away with a deeper understanding of the natural world around them. With that in mind, I changed the final paper into a handwritten notebook meant to serve as a record of all lab field trips, the birds we observe, the methods used to identify them, and their habitats. The assignment gives students hands-on practice in keeping detailed, organized field notes. It is also a means of developing the most useful skill of all: actively observing ecological features around them. Students will hopefully be able to move from simply seeing a bird in a tree, to understanding which species tend to occur together, in what kinds of trees, and in what kinds of habitats. Developing this assignment allowed me to hone in on the specific skills and mindset I want to cultivate in the course.
A common challenge of teaching is encouraging students to truly engage with the material, because too many societal pressures encourage us to view education as a transactional process. People go to school to receive a credential to get a good job to make money. This structural reality doesn’t have to come at the cost of learning, but it so often does. I try to combat the inherent cynicism of this system with the only thing that can, earnestness and human connection. I am intentional about creating an open, friendly atmosphere in the classroom. Students are partners in learning, not vessels to be filled with knowledge. Whenever possible, I encourage students to interrupt me with questions, and discuss problems and concepts together. When I do have to deliver a lot of content, I try to engage student’s curiosity and let my own enthusiasm for the material shine through. During one lab on the subject of adaptation, a student asked a tangential question about whether or not humans might eventually lose their wisdom teeth since they seem to lack a function in the modern context. I was delighted that this student was applying course concepts to something else they knew! Instead of giving an answer, I took that opportunity to invite all of them to discuss the types of selective pressures necessary for a trait to disappear entirely. That moment was an example of a student beginning to think like a scientist, and it’s precisely the sort of thing I love to encourage.
Having mainly been a Teaching Assistant for introductory biology courses, I have mostly worked with freshmen and sophomores. I regularly find myself having conversations with students about things that go beyond coursework. In a past semester, I had a freshman student linger after lab to chat. This particular student was a pre-med, but after shadowing a pediatrician, knew she hated the idea of being a doctor. She loved art, but was worried about career prospects, and felt that she was woefully behind others students who seemed to have their entire futures already mapped out. I listened to the student, and told her about my own struggles as a first-generation undergraduate: how I also had many interests and felt simultaneously pulled in different directions, but pressure to commit, and that when I was in her position, I had no idea that what I’m doing now was even a possibility. I assured her that she wasn’t behind, she was doing exactly what freshmen should be free to do—explore and learn about the world and themselves. We talked many times over the course of the semester about different paths both in and outside of biology. I also put her in contact with colleagues of mine who had managed to blend creative work and scientific training in their professional lives. This experience reflects my broader approach to mentorship. I want to help students recognize that studying the natural sciences can support a wide range of intellectual and professional goals, rather than a narrow set of predefined trajectories. In doing so, I support students as they forge their own paths.
Mentorship and early research experience were central to my development as a biologist. I attended a small liberal arts college for undergrad as a first-generation student. Working closely with faculty and having ownership over my own research projects gave me a strong sense of intellectual agency. During my graduate studies, I sought opportunities to develop as an educator by pursuing a Certificate in College Teaching, including classes on course and assessment design, and evidence-based pedagogy. This program also led to participation in ‘teaching triangles’, where peers observe each other’s teaching in the classroom and provide feedback. I was also selected for Duke Kenan Institute’s Teaching on Purpose Fellowship, which is a semester-long program where a group of graduate fellows meets weekly to read and discuss ideas foundational to teaching and higher education, engage with faculty perspectives, and develop interdisciplinary course work. These experiences have shaped my interest in teaching-focused positions where mentorship and student development are central.
Not every student who takes a biology course will become a biologist, but every student should come away with a deeper understanding of the scientific process as a whole. Cultivating an ability to critically evaluate scientific information is integral to navigating the modern world and being an informed citizen. Looking ahead, I would like to develop an introductory biology course focused on building these skills. I also would like to put my own professional background to good use in developing a course on wildlife survey methods and field ecology. Something I’ve come to learn is how much teaching and learning are shared experiences. As I continue to develop my teaching practice, I hope to inspire that spirit of joy and curiosity in others the way my own teachers and students do for me.
Teaching History
TA: Fall 2022, Fall 2023, Fall 2024, Spring 2026
TA: Fall 2020
TA: Spring 2021
Student art work hall of fame