Barbara Skinn: Finding Purpose, Poetry, and Belonging at CMAP

When you meet Barbara Skinn at the Center for Modern Aging Princeton, she greets you with a gentle warmth that can make even a cloudy morning brighter. Once a week, Barbara volunteers at the front desk, welcoming everyone who walks through CMAP’s doors with patience and grace.

Behind that serene smile lies a story of perseverance, curiosity, and quiet transformation — the journey of a woman who once called herself shy and who now helps others find connection and confidence through community.

Where did you grow up, and what was your childhood like?

I grew up in Wingham, Ontario, a very small town — only about three thousand people. I was one of eleven children: eight brothers and two sisters. You learn a lot growing up in a big family. You learn how to listen, how to share, and how to find your place in the noise.

My father was one of the people who shaped me the most. He was kind, steady, and respectful — the sort of person everyone trusted. He never needed to raise his voice to be heard. I think that’s where I learned that quiet strength can sometimes speak louder than anything else.

You’ve had an incredible academic and professional journey. How did it all begin?

From early on, I knew I wanted to go to university, but my family couldn’t afford it. That was hard — watching my dream feel so far away. But I also knew I had to try. So I studied harder than ever and earned a scholarship to the University of Western Ontario, where I completed my degree in nursing.

Nursing became my way to understand people — to be close to others when they were at their most vulnerable. Later, I earned my master’s degree at the University of British Columbia and eventually my Ph.D. in nursing at the University of Cincinnati.

Leaving home also opened me to the world. My hometown wasn’t very diverse, so being surrounded by people from different cultures changed how I saw everything. Nursing gave me a way to connect, to listen, to learn. I realized that every patient, every colleague, every stranger holds a story worth hearing.

You mentioned once that you were a shy person. How did that shape your life?

Yes, I was. I was very shy — the kind of person who preferred to stay quiet and listen. Home was where I felt safest, and for a long time, I didn’t think I had much to say. But once I left, I began to discover who I was.

Being shy taught me empathy. It made me observant. I learned that you can understand a lot about people by simply paying attention — their tone, their gestures, what they don’t say. I think that’s part of what made me a better nurse, a better listener, and maybe a better friend, too.

How did you become involved with CMAP, and what does it mean to you now?

CMAP has become like a second home for me. I’ve been part of this community for several years now — volunteering, learning, and connecting.

I joined Wonders of Wordplay, a creative writing workshop. I remember being hesitant at first, unsure if I had anything to say. But as I started to write and share, I realized that poetry wasn’t about perfection — it was about truth. It gave me another way to express myself.

Now, at the front desk, I get to greet people — each person with their own rhythm, their own story. Sometimes all someone needs is a smile or a familiar hello. That connection, no matter how small, can make a day feel different.

What lessons have stayed with you the most?

Integrity. Always that. Staying true to yourself, even when no one is watching.

I’ve learned that boundaries aren’t walls; they’re ways of protecting your peace so you can keep giving to others with an open heart.

If I could talk to my younger self, I’d tell her not to be afraid of her own voice. To speak up. To trust that being gentle doesn’t mean being small.

And what advice would you share with others?

Be curious. Be kind. Be yourself. Don’t rush through life trying to be someone else’s version of you.

And remember — joy isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s found in small, ordinary moments: a poem shared, a smile at the door, a new friend who feels like home.

Photo: Barbara with her daughter, sharing a moment of laughter and warmth. A reminder that care, love, and learning never stop. Courtesy of Barbara Skinn.