Well, hello there. . . I'm Melissa, a self-proclaimed introvert, plant dork, and recovering people-pleaser.

You might assume that since I run an outdoor school, I was raised by hippie parents, and my days were filled with frolics through the woods and organic granola.

Nope! That was definitely not the case. Truth be told, I was born and raised in Long Island, NY (Setauket territory), and despite the beach in my backyard and the small pockets of woods that dotted my neighborhood, nature connection certainly wasn't the norm in my little suburban bubble.

Instead, my free time was spent playing Tetris and watching Full House, pouring over celebs in Sassy magazine, rocking out to Guns N' Roses on my tape deck, eating copious amounts of bagels, and meeting up with my besties at the "mawl."

Once high school hit, I started seeing live music and hanging out in the woods with the "rebellious" crowd. Things at home were rough, and I needed an escape. One day I noticed some birds tweet-tweeting at the arboretum, and it brought me to an a-ha moment: Woah, I thought. Birds are cool. Nature is cool. And there's more to life than buying skimpy sequin tank tops from Forever 21!

I suddenly found myself with a strong desire to spend time in nature. And I didn't want to just go to the woods to get rowdy with the cool kids. I actually wanted to learn about "nature stuff." The problem was, I didn't have any guidance. And "nature mentors" weren't exactly mainstream in late-90's Long Island.

My tree-hugging ways stuck with me throughout college, and eventually, I ended up teaching outdoor education after I graduated. I loved spending 14-hour days in the woods with kids, but I also felt like I had no clue what I was doing. My teachings felt forced and superficial. I knew a bunch of interesting facts about animals, but I didn't feel authentically connected to the natural world.

It was around that time when I first had the vision to start a school, and that's when Wilderness Awareness School got on my radar.

In 2007, I took the leap and drove across the country to WA with my then-boyfriend (now-husband) Patrick to join 30 other adult humans on a nine-month nature connection immersion.

Those nine months were pretty wild. We learned how to build fires by rubbing two sticks together. We followed porcupine tracks for miles through sand dunes in Oregon. We laughed, we cried, and we sang. A lot. We smeared mud on our faces and played a week-long game of capture-the-flag. And then we spent the following week surviving in the woods with nothing but the clothes on our backs, eating Oyster mushrooms and unripe Salmonberries until we wanted to gag.

At WAS, I finally found the hands-on way of learning about nature that I had been dreaming of since that a-ha moment in high school. I had mentors to encourage and guide me, and a community of nature freaks to geek out and learn with.

By the end of the school year, I was a much different human. I found myself knowing all sorts of things about nature, like what coyote poop looks like, how to make medicine from Oregon Grape roots, and that birds aren't just singing when they make noises. I also healed some of my childhood trauma by connecting so deeply with the natural world.

My experience at WAS was life-changing, and I've been using the 8 Shields/Coyote Mentoring philosophy to connect children with nature ever since. Over the years, I've received training in Waldorf and Enki philosophies, and I liberally sprinkle bits and pieces of those teachings into my outdoor "classroom" as well.

These days in my free time, you might find me reading 83 personal development books all at once, weaving pine needle baskets, watching Dark-eyed Juncos at my sit spot, obsessing over my pup Leo, shredding pow at Mount Baker, dressing up in sparkles & rocking out at Phish shows, and making squeaky noises on my fiddle.

I'm super grateful for the abundance and blessings in my life, and for the places that my wild journey has led me to. And I'm pretty sure that smearing mud on my face and playing hiding games in the ferns with kids is the best job ever.