From the Field to the Page: My Summer Fellowship with Conservation Pathways

I’m standing knee-deep in the cool, tea-colored water of Lake Henrietta, my shoes squelching with every step. The sun glints off the surface while dragonflies hover above, stitching the air. My gloved hands grip a net covered in silt, microplastics, and runoff debris—a quiet but persistent reminder of why this work matters. The call of a nearby nuthatch rings out—sharp and almost mechanical—and I look up to see it hopping along a low pine branch, head tilted, observing me. It’s a small bird with a big presence—curious, quick and resilient. Fitting, I think, that this same bird is the symbol of Conservation Pathways, the nonprofit that shaped my summer and deepened my sense of purpose. It also makes me wonder how long this place will be safe for creatures like this one if we don’t act. 

That moment—like many I’ve had this year—is one I’ll carry with me long after my summer fellowship ends. As a Grant Research and Writing Fellow with Conservation Pathways, I spent the summer working to support the kinds of fieldwork and community outreach that make a real difference—from litter cleanups to watershed education. 

My journey into this work actually began with FSU Sustainable Campus. Serving as an Eco-Rep opened my eyes to the direct impact we can make in our community. Through that role, I got involved in campus-wide events like the World Water Day cleanup, where we worked to remove litter before it could enter our stormwater systems and flow to Wakulla Springs. I also participated in the Maji Project’s Lake Henrietta cleanup in February, which sparked my deeper interest in how environmental projects like these happen, and ultimately led me to this fellowship opportunity with Conservation Pathways.  

“Students are our future leaders,” said Rebecca Means, the founder of Conservation Pathways. “We need to help them however we can so they can broaden their knowledge, feel empowered, and better understand the passions that drive them.” 

Each week this summer, I met with Rebecca at Black Dog Cafe to research funding opportunities, build a grant database, send letters of inquiry, and eventually draft a full grant proposal to Waste Management. Our idea was inspired by those very cleanups: a student-powered program that combines watershed training, community surveying, and public education to tackle stormwater pollution at its source. 

The proposed project brings together students from FSU and FAMU to learn about the path of litter and runoff from campus through Tallahassee to Wakulla Springs. Interns will assess campus and neighborhood litter habits, create educational materials, and support community cleanups throughout the year. The goal is not only to reduce pollution, but to help students see how their everyday choices ripple through ecosystems and communities, and empower them as changemakers. 

Even though I wasn’t able to attend all of Conservation Pathways’ hands-on programs such as surveying at Birdsong or Lab Ecology Boat days, just hearing about them reminded me of the variety of ways students can connect with nature and conservation work. That’s what makes this organization so special. It meets people where they are, offering opportunities that are accessible, meaningful, and grounded in our local environment. 

I also learned this summer that grant writing is more than just asking for funding. It’s about telling a story—one that funders can believe in, and one that reflects the impact happening on the ground. It’s about advocating for the students who show up to volunteer, for the birds that return to restored habitats, and for the water we all depend on. In many ways, writing the grant felt like an extension of the cleanup itself—a quieter kind of service but one that helps make everything else possible. 

For students who aren’t sure where to start, Rebecca reminds us that advocacy takes many forms. “Writing is a practiced art,” she said, “but change can also happen by showing up to local meetings or joining campus and community organizations.” 

Now, as summer winds down, I return in my mind to that moment at Lake Henrietta. There are fewer bottles along the shore. A nuthatch hops from one branch to another in the pines overhead, calling into the stillness. It’s not lost on me how this little bird has come to represent so much of what this experience has been about: watching closely, acting intentionally, and helping others find their path forward. A group of students walk past with trash bags and gloves, laughing as they get ready for another cleanup. 

There’s still work to do, but it’s happening. The community is coming together. And I’m proud to have played even a small role in helping that story continue.