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Branching Out, Making Waves: Reflections on My Path in Environmental Education

June 16, 2026
Jenna Wilbur '26

The first thing many people did before reaching into the touch tank was hesitate. 

They would step forward slowly, glance at the water, then pull their hand back with a laugh. Sometimes it was a child daring a parent to go first. Sometimes it was an adult pretending not to be nervous. Then, after a little encouragement, they would reach in and gently touch the shell of a horseshoe crab or the grainy surface of a sea star. Almost every time, hesitation turned into curiosity. 

As a Summer 2025 Aquarium Educator Intern at Save The Bay, a Rhode Island nonprofit dedicated to protecting Narragansett Bay through education, advocacy, and restoration, I witnessed moments like this every day. What began as uncertainty often became excitement, questions, and connection. Visitors who entered quietly would leave vibrantly talking about marine life, coastal ecosystems, climate change, or what they could do to help protect the bay. 

That summer showed me something I continue to carry into my work today: environmental education often begins with a single moment of connection. The more people understand something, the more likely they are to value it—and once people value something, they are far more likely to care for and protect it. 

During the internship, I engaged visitors of all ages in hands-on, conversation-based learning about over 100 native marine species, local habitats, and the environmental challenges facing Rhode Island’s coastline. Just as importantly, I helped introduce people to ecosystems all around them that many had never noticed, interacted with, or fully understood before.

When I first accepted the internship, I expected to gain experience in marine education and conservation outreach. I knew I would be working with visitors, supporting programs, assisting with touch tanks, and learning more about coastal ecosystems. What I did not fully expect was how deeply the experience would shape my understanding of communication, teaching, and my own professional path. 

At the aquarium, no two days looked exactly the same. Some visitors arrived eager to learn every fact they could about local species. Others simply wandered in looking for something to do on a summer afternoon. Some children rushed directly to the tanks, while others stood back nervously until they felt comfortable enough to engage. 

My job was to meet people where they were. 

That often meant adapting quickly. Sometimes it meant explaining food webs, migration, or climate impacts to curious students. Often it meant helping a nervous child feel comfortable enough to touch a shark for the first time. Most importantly, it meant answering thoughtful questions about pollution, restoration, or animal care in ways that felt informative rather than overwhelming. 

I also supported youth summer camps both on-site and out on the bay, where place-based learning became even more immediate. Students were not only hearing about ecosystems—they were experiencing them directly. Those moments reinforced how powerful environmental education can be when learners are immersed in the places they are studying. 

Throughout the internship, I collaborated with aquarists, educators, and fellow interns to deliver accurate and engaging programming. I completed training in animal handling, marine ecology, and aquarium operations while helping maintain a safe, ethical, and welcoming learning environment. In the process, I strengthened many of the skills our Institute for the Environment values: collaboration, creative problem solving, critical thinking, public speaking, and responsible action.

I learned that facts matter, but delivery matters too. People are more likely to care when information feels accessible, personal, and welcoming. Education is not simply transferring knowledge; it is creating an opening for curiosity, understanding, and stewardship. 

When I returned to Saint Michael’s College in Fall 2025, I brought those lessons with me into my Environmental Education course. One of our major assignments was to design an original, standards-based environmental education curriculum. I quickly realized I wanted to build from the experiences that had shaped me over the summer.

The result was Marine Mise-en-scène: Setting the Stage for Young Learners in Bay Ecosystems, a curriculum inspired directly by my internship and fieldwork. I wanted to translate the energy of informal learning spaces into a structured educational resource that could be adapted for future classrooms, camps, and environmental programs. 

Designing the curriculum challenged me in new ways. During the summer, I had focused on engaging audiences in the moment. In the classroom, I had to think more intentionally about structure. How do you sequence learning? How do you create activities that serve different learners? How do you align creativity with standards and measurable outcomes?

That project helped me understand that great education combines passion with planning. It also showed me how field experience and academic work can strengthen one another. 

Following the winter break, I had the opportunity to present at the first Branching Out Symposium hosted by the Institute for the Environment. My presentation, Saving the Bay: A Summer of Marine Stewardship and Public Education, allowed me to reflect on the internship and share what I had learned about the role of aquariums as spaces for climate communication, conservation learning, and community engagement. 

Speaking at the symposium felt like a full-circle moment. An experience that began with helping visitors at touch tanks had grown into coursework, curriculum development, and a public presentation. It reminded me that learning rarely happens in isolated chapters. Often, one opportunity becomes the foundation for the next. 

Now, as the Education and Outreach Intern for the Institute for the Environment, I continue to draw from those same experiences. 

Whether I am helping coordinate campus events such as Earth Week, writing communications materials, or supporting outreach initiatives, I return often to what I learned in Rhode Island: people engage most deeply when they feel welcomed into the conversation. Strong outreach is clear, inclusive, and motivating. It helps people see that environmental issues are not distant problems, but shared responsibilities.

This role has also continued my own self-development. I have strengthened skills in project management, messaging, teamwork, and leadership while gaining confidence in professional settings. More importantly, it has shown me that environmental work is not only about science or policy; it is also about relationships, storytelling, and helping others feel connected to place. 

Looking back, I think often about those visitors hesitating at the touch tank.

Many only needed a moment of encouragement before curiosity took over. In some ways, my own path has felt similar. Each new opportunity has asked me to step forward, try something unfamiliar, and trust that growth would follow. 

Now, as a graduating senior, I find myself standing at another edge—this time not beside a touch tank, but at the close of one chapter and start of another. The lessons I carried back from the bay have continued to grow through classrooms, presentations, and my work with the Institute for the Environment. If this journey has taught me anything, it is that growth rarely happens all at once. It comes from staying curious, and continuing to branch out wherever the next tide leads.

Elizabeth Murray

For all press inquiries contact Elizabeth Murray, Associate Director of Communications at ÉÙÅ®¸£Àû.