When I was in university studying Earth Science, I went to a giant geology career fair full of employers and students. I’m shy, and talking to people used to feel (and sometimes still feels) terrifying. I remember walking around thinking I needed to sound as intelligent and impressive and valuable as the other students around

Let’s talk about talking to humans. If you’re trying to build a career in conservation – especially if you’re transitioning in – and you’re not reaching out to people… …you might think you have a networking problem. I’m guessing you don’t. If this sounds familiar: You re-draft a message five times… and don’t send it.

There’s a pattern I see in many conservation career paths: Once I have enough experience, then I’ll go for the job, then I’ll feel fulfilled. Once I feel more confident, I’ll apply for that role, so I can start being impactful. Once I have more time or money, I’ll change careers, so I can start

Quick question: What colour sunglasses are you wearing when you look at your career? Because we all wear them. You might be looking through grey lenses: “There aren’t many jobs.” “It’s too competitive.” “I need a master’s degree to stand a chance.” Or maybe yours are amber: “I need more volunteering experience before applying.” “It’s too late

There’s a quiet battle most of us fight every day, often without realising it. It’s the tug-of-war between what you really want, and what’s standing in the way: fear, discomfort, resistance. Sound familiar? Changing careers is terrifying. Leaving behind who you’ve been, stepping into the unknown, with no guarantee of how it will turn out. Putting yourself out

I once read a book called Nice Girls Don’t Get the Corner Office. It promised to teach women how to act to reach that coveted office with a view – society’s symbol of professional success. The only problem? Who wants to spend their working years acting like someone else… just to end up in a