Hi, I’m Melissa — co-founder of Feather and Frond Forest School, introvert at heart, proud plant nerd, and recovering people-pleaser.

You might think I grew up running barefoot through the forest, raised by hippie parents with granola in my lunchbox. But nope. I was raised on Long Island (Setauket territory), where my days were more “Tetris and Full House” than “tracking deer and wildcrafting.” My childhood smelled like bagels, sounded like Guns N’ Roses on cassette, and revolved around the mall, not the meadow.

But sometime in high school, things shifted. Life at home was turbulent, and I found refuge in the woods with the so-called rebellious crowd. One day, while wandering through the arboretum, I actually heard the birds—and something in me stirred. It was the first spark: nature was calling.

I didn’t just want to hang out in the woods—I wanted to know them. To understand the stories in the tracks, the songs of the birds, the medicine in the plants. But I had no mentors, and nature connection wasn’t exactly trending in late-’90s suburbia.

Still, the seed had been planted. It took root through college and outdoor ed jobs, until eventually, I found myself dreaming of a school where nature could be a true teacher. That’s when I discovered Wilderness Awareness School.

In 2007, I packed up my life and drove across the country to Washington with my then-boyfriend (now husband) Patrick. We joined a 9-month immersion with 30 other adults who wanted to learn with their hands and hearts. We lit fires with bowdrill kits, followed porcupine trails across Oregon dunes, cried, laughed, sang, survived on Oyster mushrooms and Salmonberries, and played games that reminded us what it feels like to be fully alive.

That experience rewired me. I came away not only knowing the names and stories of plants and animals, but also having healed parts of myself I didn’t know were hurting. I found mentors. I found a community. I found the way of learning I had longed for.

Since then, I’ve spent nearly two decades mentoring kids and families through the 8 Shields/Coyote Mentoring model, and weaving in threads of Waldorf and Enki philosophies. My classroom is made of moss, mud, and laughter.

These days, you might find me watching juncos at my sit spot, weaving pine needle baskets, reading five self-help books at once, obsessing over my pup Leo, dressing in sparkles for a Phish show, or making squeaky sounds on my fiddle.

I’m grateful every day for the path that’s led me here—and I can’t imagine a better job than hiding in the ferns and smearing mud on my face with wild-hearted kids.