There was a time when I used to binge-watch National Geographic documentaries non-stop; like a marathon. Each one was a wild adventure.

As a kid, I read Reader’s Digest magazines that my English teacher gave me. But I only got to hold a National Geographic magazine with stunning images later in life. And even then, it was a second-hand copy from a used bookstore.

I studied to become a civil engineer. My grandmother always said I should be a doctor, so for a while, I thought I’d do that. Then came a phase where I wanted to study astronomy and go to the moon (that dream changed the day I looked at the moon through a telescope. I expected more from the moon). Eventually, on the days I investigated building plans with my dad, I made a decision, that I am a die-hard fan of civil engineering.

At some point, I even dreamed of becoming a journalist after writing an excellent literature appreciation. But, back then, if it wasn’t a doctor, engineer, or lawyer, nothing else really counted.

After six long years down the engineering path, I finally got the letter from Institute of Engineers, Sri Lanka (IESL): “You can now officially add Eng. in front of your name.” But all I felt was an emptiness. I just stared at that letter for a while. And what scared me the most was not feeling happy.

In 2020, life took a U-turn. I reconnected with the little girl who used to watch mung beans grow into plants, who would spend days watching a butterfly fly out of its cocoon. That moment wasn’t just a U-turn; it felt like being reborn.

Working with people around the world made me wonder, “Wow! this world is massive!” People who are researching pink Amazon river dolphins, Indigenous activists fighting for land rights in the Philippines, and game designers revolutionizing education, the world looked wild!

In 2023, sitting stiffly in an office chair at the Department of Buildings, I remember thinking: Me being here feels like a crime against humanity.

That was the moment I decided to pull not just myself, but other people, especially children in this country, out of these crimes against wonder.

The Schoolyard Scientists program was my first rescue mission. And the National Geographic Society believed in that mission. And they decided to support it.

And when NatGeo supports your work, you also get something massive: you become a National Geographic Explorer. That means you join a global community of incredible people for life.

Photo Credit: Anuki Jayasekara

The NatGeo Explorers Community is full of people doing fun, meaningful, mind-blowing work, like researching pink dolphins, figuring out the ages of giant tortoises, or comparing how elephants and humans think or people who come up with new ways to teach kids about plastic pollution. It’s joy and purpose rolled into one.

In Sri Lanka, you can count the number of NatGeo Explorers on one hand. Most of NatGeo Explorers are from India. The next largest community is from the U.S.

Last year, I watched the National Geographic Explorers Festival from my laptop. And I remember thinking, “If I could be there…”

Well, guess what?

This year, they invited me! 😍

So, from June 9–12, I’ll be in Washington, D.C., attending the National Geographic Explorers Festival!

It’s a fantastic opportunity to listen to wild stories, see the groundbreaking work others are doing worldwide, share ideas, and tell the world about the work we’re doing right here in Sri Lanka. On June 11, I’ll even showcase the work of the Schoolyard Scientists in the Exhibit Hall.

If you want to do something meaningful, there are so many grant opportunities open even at this very moment; so many joyful, powerful things waiting to be done!

So, let me leave you with this:

Have you ever stopped for a moment and asked yourself, “Why am I here in this world?”

Take a little time. Sit with that question. Ask it gently, honestly. You might be surprised by the answer your heart gives you. 😍