Like most kids growing up in our area, I was brought here to the Florida Museum repeatedly, and often subject to science and natural history. Sadly, I continued to believe I would grow up to be a mermaid.

When that career failed to pan out, I got a small college degree (very, very tiny degree) and leaped out into the real world like a glorious trout attempting to cross country ski. It was clearly not smooth sailing, but I persevered and eventually fell into this thing called the internet that swooped up everything in its path in the mid ‘90s.

After what feels like 100 years rambling, I stumbled upon a job here at the Museum. I can’t tell you how thunderously my heart was beating with excitement to walk up to this old building again. Everything that was that awkward little girl with extra knees and messy hair… okay, still that awkward girl… but it all comes back to me when I walk in to work every day.

Including that childlike sense of wonder and awe. The monstrous awareness of how huge the known universe is, and how amazingly everything seems to fit together down to the most infinitely tiny particle. Like the most complicated cuckoo clock ever conceived of by the most insane Swiss engineer.

Now part of my job is to walk around this building and poke my head into the collections and ask how things work and why things are the way they are. I’m sure it’s bound to be tiresome to our scientists and researchers, who have to stop and answer silly questions whenever I wander in.

Which is why the Science Penguin is my spirit animal. Every time I step into a collection or meet with one of our scientists, I feel like this little goofball, flapping its happy flippers, wanting to science.

#HappyFlippers