I just got back from a 10 day trip to a crazy little island called Mustique in the Caribbean. We were running a pilot for the Ambassadors for the Planet curriculum and shooting a bunch of content for the island about their amazing sustainability initiatives. 100% dream work.
I’m packing for a trip. Tomorrow morning I leave for a ten day work trip to the Caribbean. We’re running a pilot for the environmental education program I’ve been working on for the last year. It’s a project I have poured blood, sweat & tears into. Something that (I really hope) has the potential to make a dent - a way to engage kids in the environmental issues we’re facing with optimism & curiosity. I haven’t seen the finished print workbook yet - it’s being couriered to the airport tomorrow morning in London so I can grab them before I get on my next flight.
We might never fit in. We will always be the ones with cuts & bruises. Both literal & metaphorical. The ones with wet hair & sunburnt noses. The ones who couldn’t care less about the car, the house, the holidays. The ones who never wear make up & barely brush their hair. The ones who will say it how it is, even if it makes everyone uncomfortable. Who throw the rule book out the window whilst feeling a sense of absolute relief and pure terror at the same time.
I’ve got to admit it. I’ve never been good with rules.
I’ve never coped well with environments that have conditions of entry or specific guidelines that must be followed. I sucked at working for the government - I had a seemingly epic job (creating environmental awareness campaigns) but when it came down to it, I felt like I was being asked to jump through hoops for the sake of jumping through hoops. So much red tape. So many meetings. A dress code. Specific working hours that needed to be adhered to regardless as to whether or not you’d actually done the work or not.