I grew up in San Antonio, Texas, alongside my parents, three older brothers and countless pets, most of whom I liked. After studying history at Wake Forest University, I moved to London where I worked in the windowless basement of a large international law firm. Unpredictable hours, arrogant bosses, and countless paper cuts inspired me to pen my first “faux-story” about the link between cubicles and mental illness.
Despite my extreme dislike for private practice, I attended law school at the University of Texas and returned to another international law firm in London. It was there, within a windowless office not much larger than a cubicle, that I decided to chronicle my jaunts around England. Notebook and camera in hand, I explored my beloved city, recording my insights on An Expat’s Guide to London, a digital guide I created but no longer maintain.
Shortly after beginning my guide, I left private practice, unknowingly subjecting myself to stringent visa regulations that compelled me back to the United States. I decided to give law one last shot, this time within the Federal Communications Commission, but not before satisfying a lifelong dream: working with wild animals in Africa. During a brief sabbatical, I worked at a wildlife conservancy in Namibia, learning that the only thing I loved more than writing was writing about wildlife. I was also nearly bitten to death by vervet monkeys, but that’s another story.
After a year at the FCC, I relocated to NYC, a place I’d longed to explore since watching Seinfeld as a teen (side note: Larry David’s my soulmate), but first I returned to Namibia to investigate additional conservation models before settling into the West Village to write. Later, I spent a year writing for the Wildlife Conservation Society/Bronx Zoo, which afforded me long walks through leafy green pastures that led to lots of whistling (the birds liked it, I swear). I spent breaks admiring the zoo’s many animals and fell madly in love with Amur tigers, red pandas, and ring-tailed lemurs. Oh, to be one!
Because I’m intent on making frequent changes and maintaining the longest bio possible, I left New York for some time back in Texas. Based in Austin, I continued writing about all sorts of subjects while pursuing wildlife documentary filmmaking. I sold an original segment on Mexican free-tailed bats (which I presented, produced, and wrote) to Earth Touch News and hope to tell more audiovisual stories in the future, but I moved again in 2015, this time to Cambridge, England.
I studied conservation at the University of Cambridge, where I wrote my dissertation on conservation storytelling while collaborating with the Cambridge Conservation Initiative’s arts, science, and conservation programme, BirdLife International, and the British Trust for Ornithology. In October 2016, I graduated with a Masters of Philosophy in Conservation Leadership and am now based in London, where I’ve launched Millie Kerr Communications Ltd, a boutique conservation communications & consulting practice.
As a writer, I’m a generalist. Although I focus on travel and wildlife conservation, I’ve penned pieces ranging from a reported article on entrepreneurial classical musicians to satirical romantic essays. My work has appeared in numerous print publications, among them American Way, Delta Sky, Entrepreneur, Hemispheres, National Geographic Traveler, The New York Times, Outside, Popular Science, Scientific American, Town & Country, Travel + Leisure and The Wall Street Journal. I’ve also written for web editions of The Atlantic, Country Living, Departures, The Economist, Garden & Gun, Glamour, GQ, The Guardian, HuffPo, The Independent, Marie Claire, Pacific Standard, Texas Monthly, USA Today and Wired.
I also authored chapters in two published books: The Good News/Bad News Guide to New York City; and Letting Go: An Anthology of Attempts, which BuzzFeed called one of spring 2016’s best anthologies.
Although I don’t currently use my J.D., I credit it and my undergraduate degree in history for my ability to think analytically and write persuasively.