“Look! It’s a bird, it’s a plane … Wait, is it barefoot too?” Don’t forget it’s infatuated with conservation and herpetology as well. Some of you may already be acquainted with me formally or informally for that matter, but I’ve been partnering with the Art of Conservation (AoC) and its sister organization, Conservation Heritage-Turambe (CHT), since June of this year. To date, I’ve helped manage our various social media outlets, edit literary content, and aid in spreading our one-health awareness message to the ecocentric masses. But enough about my side-jobs, here’s a bit about me.
Aside from my journalism, I also breed, rescue, and raise both pythons and boas from across the globe. Pictured here is Yonce, the fourteen foot African rock python (Python s. sebae).
On September 30th, 1991, I was brought into this world via a natural birth. And since then, I’ve been dead-set on one mission—connecting people to their environmentally conscious self. Even in my grossly overweight younger years, I was sneaking in the occasional creature I’d found while at recess back into the classroom, preaching my sustainability ethics to my less engorged peers; I had so many friends as you could imagine.
As time progressed and puberty diatonically shifted my voice, I still held onto that environmental ethos with an unbreakable vice. And with the onset of age came wisdom and eloquence —vertical endowment eluded me, however. At the ripe-young age of twenty-two, I've been featured in numerous publications and continue to bring consciousness to this endangered terra firma we call our only home—sorry, Mars.
I regularly travel to schools, organizations, etc. to advocate sustainability and the importance of respecting our not so cute-and-cuddle organisms. Pictured here is the crown jewel of my collection, U’ani, a thirteen foot Papuan python (Liasis papuana).
Since I can remember, I've metaphorically compared life’s journey to a well-executed theatrical production. The mutually-sound intersection of our life’s purpose and passion is our sacred arena—the stage. And with each costume change, wardrobe malfunction, plot-shit, and intermission, we begin a new “act” in the screen play. But with any dynamicism, criticisms and hardships will ensue. If we’re willing, we can grow just as much, if not more, from our awkward silences as we can from our deafening applauses.
Stay true to yourself. Keep grounded. And in the end, we’ll all have our well-deserved standing ovation.
Grab a ticket to my show; I’m currently waiving the admission fee.