Student voices

If someone were to ask me which animals at the zoo are the most unpredictable, on many days I would answer: the grown-ups. Occasionally, a meerkat might escape or a goat could climb over the fence; but parents will acknowledge your presence, wait for you to turn away, and then plop their kid on a goat for a quick selfie.

That's where I come in: as a Teen Wild Guide (TWG) at the Oakland Zoo, one of my jobs is to protect both goats, sheep, and guests. In my head, I confidently stride up to adults and, with a mature and stern voice, tell them to stop sneaking the goats treats or to not dangle their child precariously over the fence. But in reality, I have shyly shuffled up to the rule-breaking adult, meekly murmured a request, and quickly walked away.

When I started out as a TWG, I spoke too softly, and asked questions when I should have given orders. Often times, I spoke in front of large groups, explaining rules, and answering questions about our animals. Other times, my job was as simple as feeding animals or scooping poop. When it came to public speaking, I preferred scooping poop.

In the goat yard—the only place where visitors and animals have direct contact—poor communication can lead to conflict. When annoyed, goats tend to kick and headbutt their way out of predicaments. I spend so much time around the goats that I can sense the animal's glare, body language, and wind up before anyone else. I have occasionally jumped into the space between goat and child to take the bullet. And there's only so many kicks and headbutts your shins will take before you want to speak louder next time.

I practiced finding my voice at home with my dad. He critiqued my speeches and showed me strong and weak handshakes. When teaching visitors, I tried to hold eye contact for as long as I could, even if it made me uncomfortable. The repetition of pretending to be confident began to stick with me. Even though I occasionally stumbled, my courage had unexpected results; I surprised my family and friends by branching out into unfamiliar arenas. My junior year, I joined the water polo junior team, traveled to Yellowstone National Park with an ecology research project group, and participated in a week-long leadership challenge camp at Mount Shasta. Emboldened by my success, I applied for and was selected as a Lead TWG this year, which requires me to lead and co-manage up to one hundred and fifty peers and adults.

Last week, during morning announcements at the TWG staff meeting, I heard myself say, “If I see you on your station playing ‘Pokemon Go’, I will take your phone and set all of your Pokemon free.” My peers laughed at my sarcastic remark but understand that they need to put their phones away before starting work.

My time at the zoo has been stinky, sticky, stretching, and stimulating. While I still prefer scooping poop to public speaking, the contrast is not as extreme as it once was. I am grateful that my job has helped me confront one of my biggest challenges.