For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved a good story. I’d say it’s because my parents filled my bedroom, my playroom and my days with books, but you can’t ask them about it because my dad will just tell you that I memorized which words went with which pictures and my mom will start doing her Quasimodo voice.
You could say that she raised me to be theatrical, and as I grew up I was involved with every performing opportunity I could find – whether that was my school musical or made-up shows in the living room for my family and my stuffed animals. [Note: it would take me over a decade to realize you were supposed to smile on stage. RIP all photos taken before then.]
I spent a great deal of my childhood reading everything I could, dancing around my house (I have the scar to prove it from the day I danced myself right into a chair face-first), and writing poems that probably included a lot of cheated rhymes, but it wasn’t until I saw my first performance of Les Miserables as a bright-eyed, metal-mouthed twelve-year-old that I think I really realized the power that a story could have when told in that capacity. I was blown away by the impact a story could have when told well.
As a high school senior trying to choose a college, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to go to school for Journalism or for Medicine. Obviously, I chose one of those, but I think that early love for telling stories has really colored every way that I’ve chosen to spend my time as I’ve “grown up.” When I swapped out my Biology Minor for a Theatre Studies Minor as a college senior, my parents weren’t exactly enthused, but I can’t say altogether surprised. For me it’s much more than just telling a story, though. I’ve grown to love the idea of presenting a really important idea or belief in a way that makes it easier for people to process. I love the idea of telling a story – real or imagined – that impacts people, that changes people, that empowers people.
As I’ve gotten further along in my schooling, I’ve discovered two things about myself. First, I have a deep fascination for why people do what they do. I’ve always been weirdly fascinated by the concept of propaganda – how words on a page or screen can evoke the emotion someone wants – the power of the written word to convince people to do “___,” to direct social movements or to color judgment for better or for worse simply because of the picture painted.
And second, that while as animal scientists, we are inherently fact-based, I’ve found many ways of combining these two very different interests. As future doctors, we are not only instructed, but also compelled to be critical thinkers – to sort through the rubbish and the propaganda of the media and an easily influenced populace to find the truth that our clients need. To question practices or opinions that we don’t believe in so that those depending on us (human and animal) can have the best lives possible.
I’ve found that this way of thinking can often get me into trouble, but it has also helped me build incredible relationships with many of my patients and clients. It has pushed me to in turn move mountains, and to not be afraid of asking for what I want, especially if I am doing so on behalf of someone else. It has driven me use my voice against what I think is wrong and in favor of what is right.
Now, I am no Victor Hugo, but the goal with this is gonna be to bring you good stories – truthful stories – my stories and those of anyone else willing to let me into theirs. At the present, I’m still a poor vet student, but the plan is to go just about as far in this big, wide world as I can and we’ll see what happens. I hope you’re entertained. I hoped we can learn together. We’ll figure this out as we go.
Hemingway & Herriot 