A La Sainte Terrer

A Local Encounter that Changed my Perspective - A Catalyst for Changing Perspectives on Leadership

hilaryrr — Fri, 19 Apr 2013 02:23:09 GMT

The mid-afternoon Californian sun beat harshly above the desert of Joshua Tree National Park. Squinting ahead on the trail about 4 miles in, I could make out the mirage-like image of someone kneeling on the ground, clutching his side, gear strewn about, his glasses lying beside him. I quickened my pace to investigate, but the closer I got, the more I realized I was denying the inevitable: I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach, as soon as I saw the man on the ground, that this wasn't an intentional hiking break.

As a seasoned hiker and outdoor group leader, I had been lucky to never have any major mishaps on my excursions. Despite my wilderness first responder and medical training, I had, deep down, hoped I wouldn't need to use those skills. As someone who has been on the more introverted side for most of her life, I think I secretly hoped that all of my encounters in the wilderness, and in life, would continue to slide by without any wrong turns. That I could continue to be a "leader" (what my training calls me, after all), without having to really prove it-but then things don't always turn out the way we plan.

In a way, this encounter in the middle-of-nowhere desert was my chance to put my money where my mouth is. To cast those self-doubts aside, prove to myself that I wasn't just pretending to be a leader: that I actually was. As I approached the sickly hiker, I could sense that this was a case of severe dehydration. He explained bit by bit, recalling his heavy gear, how he shouldn't have come out alone, this has never happened to him before... these were sentiments I knew all too well. Yet, this instance proved to me that even experienced hikers can find themselves in life-threatening situations.

As someone else's life now depended on my help, I realized I had to break out of the shell I built for myself. I was the only help he had, and I couldn't afford to be anything else. And, almost magically, I became those things I was aspiring to be. My training prepared me to diagnose, reduce injuries and ease a state of mind, but, most importantly, it gave me the self-confidence to handle a difficult situation. It allowed me to be a life-saver, but even more than that, it made me revaluate myself. I wonder if, had it not been for this catalyst of a perspective shift, our outcomes would have been very different, and I thank my lucky stars at the end of every day, whether it was a good or a bad one, that I've gotten to where I am every night.

Photos: My Scholarship entry - A 'place' I have visited

hilaryrr — Wed, 9 Jan 2013 04:34:00 GMT

For as long as I can remember, art has been my lifeblood. As a young girl, I drew my own cartoons, directed video "masterpieces," tinkered with an old camera and sat poignantly as the exposed papers dripped dry in my home-made darkroom. As a shy girl for most of my life, it was my mission to use art as my voice, to show what we were missing when we weren't looking (as we are wont to do every day). In a world that is often bleak, I found myself an optimist, using my observant eyes and omnipresent camera to prove that beauty truly can be found everywhere, if we just stop to look: from the gradient of colors found in the fibre of a leaf that you pass every day walking to school, to the stories that lie behind the faces of strangers you sit across from on the subway, to that brilliant moment when the song you're listening to synchronizes with the scenes you watch from the train window. These are the glimpses of life that take my breath away, that offer some semblance of what it is to live with meaning, and which I try to capture with my camera. It is my life's duty to bring this awakening to fruition in others when they need to see it most, and I would be unhappy doing anything else.

My Scholarship entry - My Kind of Adventure

hilaryrr — Fri, 12 Oct 2012 15:39:31 GMT

Even as a girl, much to the dismay of my guardians, I constantly was losing myself in the woods, sprinting into the ocean, jumping through mud: I was happy just to connect to nature. As we age, we tend to lose this fervor. While traveling can rekindle it, something more fundamental also can: a positive attitude. Wielding a camera and an open mind, one is forced to focus on all the surprises the world has to offer. That inspired my subject matter: I want to show that, whether in the Australian outback or in my backyard, I can find awe in nature, if I chose to look. I have some filmmaking experience; I've made home videos since I was 8, have become a serious photographer, created a documentary on the Tasmanian Devil, and made art films in college and pieces as a reporter in the music industry. I have a story and a narrative unlike anyone else's, and it has been my ambition to create beautiful pieces that compel, inform, and inspire. While I've always had this drive and talent for filmmaking, I've also been afraid, afraid that I wasn't good enough to follow my dream. Winning this scholarship would give me that extra push to accomplish great things that I know I am capable of.