We are honored to feature Jeannie Kornfeld, a longtime educator dedicated to systems thinking, ecological literacy, and empowering students to take meaningful action in their communities. From designing an ecologically-based wastewater treatment solution with high schoolers to facilitating one of the first student-authored district climate action plans in the country, Jeannie has built a career around teaching students how to see and shape systems for sustainability.

Jeannie recently retired after 29 years of inspiring students at Hanover High School in New Hampshire and was recognized with the 2025 NHEE Legacy Award for her innovative teaching, leadership of the Environmental Club, and decades of dedication to empowering youth as changemakers.

In this conversation, Jeannie reflects on the power of place-based ecological learning, what inspires her teaching, and what gives her hope for climate education.

Interview by Leigh Ann Reynolds, Upper Valley Teaching Place Collaborative Coordinator and New Hampshire Environmental Educators (NHEE) Administrator

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How did you first get interested in ecology and sustainability?

Jeannie: My love for ecology started early. I grew up in a rural area and spent a lot of time outside, which gave me a deep appreciation for nature. I have always felt that if people were better informed about the services ecosystems provide for humanity, they might change the way they interact with their natural surroundings. Many people don’t recognize that human societies, our mental and physical health, and the health of our economies are completely dependent upon the health of earth's ecosystems. 

I still remember seeing a picture of the ecology flag in my fifth grade science textbook, and I was really excited for that chapter but it was at the end of the book and we didn’t get to it. The same thing happened in my 8th grade life science, and 10th grade biology classes. Finally in my last year of college, I took an ecology course and it was by far my favorite course. Teaching ecology should be a priority as it gives students an opportunity to recognize the interconnectedness of nature and its relevance to their own life.

You’ve led some big student projects. Which one stands out the most?

Jeannie: A favorite was a March Intensive called It’s Alive, designed with colleagues Chrissy Morley and Scott Stokoe. March Intensive is a week at Hanover High School where we pause our typical course offerings to branch out and offer diverse courses in an effort to participate in learning for learning’s sake. For decades during the winter months, our local elementary school septic system bubbled up wastewater onto the school green requiring the area to be roped off. Instead of treating it as just an infrastructure problem, we turned it into a student challenge: could we find an ecologically based wastewater treatment solution that was solar powered, closed the nutrient loop, and offered educational opportunities?

For March Intensive, students can choose from fun courses like learn to play hockey or even take a trip abroad, so I wasn’t sure if anyone would sign up for a March Intensive in which figuring out how to deal with the elementary school’s wastewater issue was the goal, but amazingly we filled all ten spots with incredible students who were literally a dream team.

Along with considerable research and discussion among the group, students met with the school district’s financial officer, the director of facilities, a soils engineer who designs leach fields, state engineers who approve septic designs, an excavator, the school principal and marketing associates. After much consideration of various ecologically-based technologies, students decided the best option was an innovative alternative system called an algae wheel.

The district considered this option along with another alternative treatment system, and ultimately the other option was chosen but the students’ work pushed administrators to consider innovative alternative treatment options for the first time, and after decades the septic issue has now been resolved. I think these kinds of authentic real-world learning experiences empower students, and provide them with an opportunity to contribute to their communities in a way that is meaningful.

You also helped create a student-written climate action plan. How did that happen?

Jeannie: It started in my Earth Systems and Ecological Design class during the 2017/2018 and 2018/2019 school years. Students collected data on the high school’s building energy use, transportation and other greenhouse gas emitting sectors. With the help of my daughter Hannah Kornfeld, who writes climate action plans (CAP’s) professionally, we were guided through the process of writing a CAP for the high school. Eventually the superintendent asked us to write a CAP that included all four schools in the district. 

After three years of work by the school’s Environmental Club, students in the Earth Systems class, myself and Hannah, the SAU-70 CAP was published on the district’s website. On Earth Day 2025 the SAU 70 school board unanimously adopted the SAU CAP and it is now part of the district’s strategic plan. To my knowledge, it’s the only climate action plan created by students—something most schools hire consultants to do, which in my opinion, is a missed opportunity for students.

What advice do you have for educators who want to empower students?

Jeannie: Finding a project students genuinely care about is crucial - projects in which students have agency to be the author of their own story. I have learned not to underestimate what a group of determined students who are invested in a project are capable of accomplishing. 

I have found that forging relationships with students that are built on trust and understanding is key. It allows me to provide feedback that won’t be taken as criticism, and I feel comfortable giving my students decision-making power which in turn empowers them. 

Also, knowing my students strengths and weaknesses provides an opportunity for me to offer positive feedback when students exhibit growth, whether it’s in regard to their critical thinking skills, maturity, ability to work collaboratively, etc. When students feel better about themselves, that in itself can be very empowering.

What role does being in nature play in helping students feel connected to climate action?

Jeannie: I am always amazed when I am out on a field trip with students and I see their sense of wonder, the excitement and the joy they gain from their own observations of nature. And I love how contagious their enthusiasm becomes when they see something really cool. When nature is your classroom, it can’t be all work and no play!  

Sometimes on a field trip to a stream, after collecting data, they will play in the water with their friends, splashing and having fun. These are the kinds of things that help instill a love for and appreciation of nature. When students learn of the impact that climate change is having on those very places they just visited, I believe that can foster climate action. When students see sugaring seasons shift or invasive species overtaking a local forest, it hits home. That’s when activism begins.

With all the challenges facing our world, what is giving you hope right now?

Jeannie: It seems that a growing number of schools are recognizing the need to include climate and sustainability education so this trend gives me hope. Organizations like the UVTPC [Upper Valley Teaching Place Collaborative], NHEEP/VEEP, [New Hampshire and Vermont Energy Education Programs] and NHEE [New Hampshire Environmental Educators] that support student-driven projects in schools and communities are providing crucial support for students to develop actionable solutions. 

I am also moved by the increased awareness among students that many environmental issues disproportionately affect marginalized communities. In the Upper Valley and even in Northern New England this is not as obvious as it is in other parts of the country. But when I listen to the compassion and empathy demonstrated by these students who are acknowledging that this inequity exists, it also gives me hope for a more just future.

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Jeannie will be the keynote speaker at the Upper Valley Teaching Place Collaborative’s November 13, 2025 Conference on the shores of Lake Morey—a day dedicated to joyful learning, meaningful partnerships, and the vibrant places that connect us all.

This year’s theme, “Find Your Place, Find Your Partners,” invites educators, community leaders, students, and organizations to share how they are building connections to the land, to each other, and to learning that matters. Participants can expect sessions that are playful, grounded, and bold—co-led by community partners and educators, designed to get people outside, lift up student voices, and explore different modalities of learning and accessibility.

It’s the perfect opportunity to experience Jeannie’s insights on place-based ecological learning and connect with others advancing place-based ecology education (PBEE) across our region.

Drew Dumsch is the co-founder and President/CEO of The Ecology School, located on the 313-acre regeneratively-designed River Bend Farm campus in Saco, Maine. Since 1998, he has led this nationally recognized nonprofit educational organization through a bold evolution—from nature study and outdoor ed to systems-based, immersive “change education.” In this interview, Drew reflects on what regeneration means to him, how it changes what and how we teach, and why collaboration is essential in the work ahead.

Interview by Joan Haley, Northeast Climate Change Education Collaborative.

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What inspired you to start The Ecology School, and how has your vision evolved since 1998?

Drew:  So I started doing residential environmental education in 1991. It was always about getting kids outdoors, but what we were doing back then was basically still “nature study.” You’d take kids to a stream, look for macroinvertebrates, maybe learn a plant or a bird name. That wasn’t bad but we weren’t helping people understand how it is all connected. There wasn’t enough systems thinking in the learning.

When we founded The Ecology School in 1998, I was really interested in linking the science of ecology with the practice of sustainability. That idea has driven everything we’ve done since then. And it’s changed and evolved over time. I started realizing that we’re not just doing environmental ed, we’re doing ecology education through field ecology and ecosystem exploration. That means looking at how natural systems function, yes, but also how human systems work and interact with natural systems and how people can interact with and in those systems for the better.

At The Ecology School, what we’re really doing is teaching change education. How change happens, how it scales, and how you can be a positive agent of that change. We’re modeling a mindshift from misunderstanding and even fear of change to the amazing possibilities that change can bring. I’m not a big fan of using the term “climate change education” because it’s not just about climate change, it’s about creating a climate of change, helping to bring about good change for the future!

What motivated your decision to design and build a campus focused on regeneration, and what’s the impact on learning there?

Drew:  When The Ecology School rented our original Ferry Beach site, we didn’t have control of the space and couldn’t make changes to the buildings or landscape. But when we purchased this 313-acre farm under conservation with Maine Farmland Trust, it changed everything. When you're a renter you can only do temporary things with a property but as soon as we had River Bend Farm we had the chance to do green building and farming on a whole new level.

That’s when we decided to pursue the Living Building Challenge (LBC). It sets the highest green building performance standards in the world — net-positive energy and water use, building with non-toxic materials, sourcing local materials. We looked at LBC both as a design and a pedagogy and education choice.

The Ecology School at River Bend Farm is where the buildings and the property as a whole are part of the learning. The farm and food systems, the solar array, the local wood building materials, it all becomes part of the story. For example, we help students see during a forest ecosystem lesson that the squirrel needs nutrients just like you do. Food is ecology. Food is energy. Food is community. An outdoor school experience at an environmental living and learning center like The Ecology School is not just academic content delivery, it’s a lived experience. You walk the systems. You eat them. You reflect on them. That’s where understanding and then action blooms. 

How do you define regeneration, and how is it different from environmental education and education for sustainability?

Drew: So often environmental education is about here's a stream, here's a frog, let’s ID it... but when this happens we aren’t linking that field exploration to the human-built system. Regenerative learning and practice is about healing and reconnecting with our relationship with the Earth. 

Sustainability says “do less harm.” Regeneration says “do more good.” For example, we still teach about climate but we’re just doing it through growing food and having fun in the forest and eating meals made with love and respect in the dining commons. You can’t fully teach someone to engage in regenerative practices in a one-hour workshop or through a slideshow. You need to live it. You need to feel it. That’s a type of learning where the hope for change truly exists.

When I think about regeneration, I think about agriculture, conservation, social-emotional learning, and rigorous academics and how they are all connected together. At The Ecology School we try to design learning experiences that make those relationships more explicit. If you build an economic model and ignore the environment, that’s a problem. If you create an education system and don’t think about equity, that’s a problem. The most impactful learning and real work happens at the intersection of economy, equity, education, and environment. That’s where good change happens— at that intersection. 

Regenerative learning and practice isn’t a stand alone program or curriculum. It’s a way of being and viewing the world. It means seeing yourself as part of the system—not outside of it. That’s what we try to teach at The Ecology School at River Bend Farm. And we’re just getting started!

What role does collaboration and partnership play in your work, and what does successful partnership look like?

Drew: Effective collaboration requires trust, shared vision, shared language plus real humility and patience with the process. None of us individually have all the answers. I’ve always relied on partnerships. We can’t do this important work alone.

One network I helped start is now called the National Outdoor School for All Consortium. It started up because many of us outdoor school leaders around the country got tired of conversations during COVID about how we were going to survive the global pandemic. What we really wanted to do was talk about how to move beyond survival and work to thrive together through the power and inspiration of collective impact! 

If you could change one thing about the way environmental education is supported, what would it be?

Drew: We don’t need more pats on the back. That may sound harsh but it really is time for folks to do less giving our work the “thumbs up” and start committing to more thoughtful and strategic support through donations, engagement, and volunteering. If regeneration is going to be a successful social movement, we need dedicated longterm support from a variety of sources and supporters. We need real policy innovation, and solid funding for kids to learn and live regeneratively. I truly believe that most people care about the environment and equity and climate, but caring has to show up in stronger nonprofit budgets, with more grants and donations, and in stronger, more sustainable staffing models.

This month, we’re honored to feature a conversation with Cedar Barg, Climate Network Manager at The Wild Center, and youth climate leaders Zarela Gulli and Jenna Audin. These high school seniors share their perspectives on education as a climate solution and their experiences pushing for climate education policy in New York State.

Pictured are Zarela (left) and Jenna (right), members of the Climate & Resilience Education Task Force Youth Steering Committee, with Chairman Benedetto during a March lobbying day in Albany.

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Zarela (she/her): Hi, my name is Zarela Gulli. I am a senior at Keene Central School, and I have been a ClimaTeens Fellow at the Wild Center as well as a Critical Action Lab Fellow, and I am a part of the Youth Steering Committee in the Climate & Resilience Education Task Force (CRETF).

Jenna (they/she): I'm Jenna Audlin. I am also a senior at Saranac Lake High School. I am a former ClimaTeen Fellow at the Wild Center. I'm also a Critical Action Lab Fellow and on the CRETF Youth Steering Committee.

Cedar Barg (they/them): From your statewide perspective at CRETF and your local perspective through the ClimaTeens fellowship, why do you see climate education as an essential component to climate solutions?

Zarela: I can start off by saying that I've always said and believed that education is the way to create change systematically. Think about the most influential and important people in your life when you're growing up. It's going to be your parents, in some ways probably your siblings and closest friends, and then your teachers. And that's where you're getting your education. 

I know my school, the way that we educate our students, you can kind of tell as they go into the world, we all hold very similar viewpoints. Not saying that we're homogenized or anything, but we do share some similar values because of the way we were taught at our school.

So in creating climate action, that's a huge part because we want to create this change in the world to combat the climate crisis. And really educating our young people and our next generation to care about this issue and to know how to care correctly is probably the most important way to create that change.

Jenna: I definitely see climate education as being a really important step in creating climate solutions. Quality education is one of the UN Sustainable Development Goals, and that's always one that I tend to gravitate toward as someone who's going into environmental education. Environmental ed is my major next year. I hope to, at some point work in a nature school or to be doing kids' programming at a nature center. So that's one of the roles that I see myself playing in the climate movement.

It's just so important that we have that connection of climate education to make people care and just to create knowledgeable citizens of the world. Because you need that component of knowledge and caring to be able to take those actionable steps.

What opportunities has the CREFT Steering Committee or the Wild Center provided that have helped support your work as a young climate leader?

Zarela: I think that they kind of offered such different viewpoints, the Wild Center being not politically affiliated and CRETF being more politically affiliated. 

So with the Wild Center, I got that hands-on chance to educate people in the museum, which I will say was not my strong suit. I'm not great at interactions, especially about the natural world. I enjoyed telling people about hiking, but the otters were not something I really excelled at. But I still really enjoyed hearing the different perspectives of different people coming in. 

But then with CRETF, we went and we did some lobbying in Albany, and that was probably one of the most influential experiences I've had this year, if not in high school, because I really felt like I was making an impact. I got to see how policy kind of works and how lobbying works and how the stigmas around lobbying aren't always true. And I think that's really given me a good look into some different career paths in the future.

I think both experiences have really helped me determine what I want to do and in some ways also what I'm maybe not going to lean towards in the future. 

Cedar: I love that. Like exposure to lots of different things that places you might want to pursue, things you might want to pursue in the future, and also things that you tried that you maybe didn't like as much. That's super important. 

Jenna: I feel like there's so many opportunities that we don't even realize are coming from these experiences. Like I've had so many things happen just from being in the same area as the Wild Center, all these things just kind of flood in because it's what I'm interested in and it's what I'm passionate about. 

But like Zarela said with CRETF, going and lobbying in Albany was really cool to be very clearly taking an action step, making meaningful change. And then actually with my education class, we were back in Albany probably three weeks later talking with other BOCES in the area and I got to be like, “ this is where we did this and you guys can do it too during lobbying days next year!” 

Everything's so interconnected. And that's really what makes those opportunities so special is that it's all connected to each other because everything in the climate world is so, you know, woven in together. 

Cedar: Even the things that you might not think of as an opportunity or like even the small things stick with you. And I love the peer mentorship after you've gone to Albany and being able to share that with your classmates. That's really awesome.

How will your experiences with CRETF or the Wild Center play a role in what you're doing after high school? 

Zarela: So for me, It's really opened up this whole new area I didn't even see myself going into. Maybe policy, law, government. I've always been more in tune with sciences, but I haven't had the experience to do field work or anything yet. 

I also found through the Wild Center when we attended events like the Climate Reality Leadership Corps Training in NYC, that I really like those more formal trainings and events. I really enjoy talking about the issues that I'm passionate about. Like we've had a presentation for the NOAA ELP Conference at The Wild Center and I’ve also presented at other Youth Climate Summits across the nation. 

I think those have opened me up to be more comfortable in myself and my ability to communicate my passion, my activism. And then also these like career paths and futures in school. And I know that I'll be going to Columbia University in the city for some sort of climate activism, climate sustainability. I really am excited to figure out if that's going to be science, policy or anything in between.

Cedar: What you are just describing, Zarela, made me think about how you should try to go to a Conference of Parties (COP) event in the future. Your interest in speaking on panels and going to more formal events, I feel like that could be a really interesting way for you to explore global policy more deeply.

Zarela: Yeah, I'd love to have that opportunity. That sounds so awesome.

Jenna: We were in middle school during the pandemic. So I feel like during COVID, it was kind of like I wasn't into my nature and climate stuff nearly as much as I had been as a kid. I kind of fell into keeping afloat like we all did during the pandemic. 

Coming out of the pandemic, I moved to a new place (the Adirondacks). And one of the first things that was starting to come back that piqued my interest were these programs at the Wild Center. The Youth Climate Program had just started doing field trips to a local farm or things like that. That’s what kind of got me into that groove again. 

And so I think while I've always had my interests in climate and in environmental education, The Wild Center is one of the reasons that I fell back into that pattern when I had kind of gotten out of it.

What has been the best part of pushing for climate education policy in New York State and what has been the most challenging part of this?

Zarela: So I think I'm going to start with the most challenging to end on a good note. I honestly found that the most challenging part wasn't what most people are going to say, like, “oh, you get a lot of no's”. For me, it was that I really did not understand how the proposed CRETF bill worked or how just bills and policy in general worked. 

I didn't know how to advocate myself if I was talking to someone. But that was the really cool thing, after going lobbying, I knew all this stuff about this bill and then I was able to share it with friends and family and be very accurately informed. 

The best part was actually just lobbying and talking to people, whether that was actually someone who was an elected official, or talking to their interns or their secretaries. I made some great connections with people who visit the Adirondacks, people who have lived in the Adirondacks, even just seeing somebody with a piece of jewelry that you recognize, like you make those cool connections with people that I hope get to them to care about your issue.

Even though we did get a lot of “no's”, or “come back next year, try again”, it really just felt good to be actively doing something and not doing it through a computer or or sending emails. It felt really good to actually be talking to people because you know that they have to listen to you if you're talking to them. And it really felt like we were making a change. Even if we got a bunch of “no's” now, it's on their radar in the future.

Cedar: I love that you highlighted the importance of doing this in person and making those in personal connections. They can't forget about you like they can with an email or a piece of mail or even a phone call. There is power in that in-person dialogue that you are engaging in. And now you're so much more likely to engage in civil discourse in the future because you understand how the process works. 

Do you think rural youth voices are being heard in broader climate conversations? Why or why not? 

Jenna: This one I thought was really interesting because even though I’ve lived in rural areas most of my life, I was born in Austin, Texas. I don't always see myself as someone who has that rural background. And I think that's because I saw all the resources and all of the opportunities there are in a city. But I think that's what makes rural voices so much more important that if they're not being heard, you've left out such an important group of people in the climate movement. 

We talk a lot about sustainable agriculture with rural farmers or that people in rural areas tend to be more conservative.That makes it even more important to be out there doing work and keeping the climate conversation active so that everyone feels included. When rural voices, especially rural youth voices aren't being heard, it really stands out to me.

Cedar: Yeah, I love that. And even though rural voices might not be most of the population in New York State, your experiences are still unique and different and a part of the culture of New York State. And also, rural communities are disproportionately impacted by climate change. You both have experienced firsthand climate hazards, whether that be wildfires or warming winters or, flooding, ice storms, et cetera. I think that's like what makes your voices that much more important– you have firsthand experiences with these climate hazards. 

This month, we’re honored to feature a conversation with Ed Sharron, Science Communication Specialist for the National Park Service’s Northeast Temperate Network (NETN). The network supports thirteen parks in our region with long-term monitoring of natural resources and ecological communities to inform stewardship and management. Ed began his work with the National Park Service 26 years ago, first as a ranger interpreter in Vermont. Among other career highlights, he served as a ranger in Glacier National Park in the early 2000s, where he believes he created and routinely shared that park’s first campfire talk based solely on climate change. 

This past April, we spoke with Ed about how to engage people in complex topics, what some of the national parks in the northeast region are doing, and his advice for educators.

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Joan Haley: Tell us a little bit about your role at the Northeast Temperate Network.

Ed Sharron: I’m the Science Communication Specialist for NETN, which is one of thirty-two networks that supports national parks across the country by monitoring ecological health—things like forest health, bird communities, water quality, and so on.

Part of the reason why science communication is so important is that a lot of ecologists and scientists don’t necessarily have a communications background, and a lot of park superintendents and other people making decisions at parks aren’t scientists. So I help translate and break down complicated topics to make it easier for the people doing the monitoring and the people making decisions to speak the same language and connect more effectively. 

You’ve been working on climate and conservation education for a long time. What originally drew you to this work?

Ed: I remember first hearing the term “climate change” as a kid in the early ’80s and it stuck with me. But the real turning point was in 2000 when I came across a book called The Heat is On by Ross Gelbspan, and I was totally riveted. 

Not long after that, I returned as a ranger to Marsh-Billings-Rockefeller National Historical Park in Vermont. The families that the park is named after were all important to the conservation movement, and the park’s mission is to talk about conservation—past, present, and future. So, it seemed like the perfect place to talk about climate change. I dove in, researched, learned, and have been talking about climate change with visitors, schools, and the public ever since.

In my opinion, climate is the number one issue that should be on people’s minds. Without a healthy and stable climate, everything else is impacted. Whether you’re concerned about food security or human health or even national security or the economy, all of those things stand to be negatively impacted by the current trajectory that we’re on.

You’re known for making complex topics really engaging. What strategies do you use?

Ed: I love analogies. They can make abstract concepts easier to understand. For example, weather and climate are concepts that at first blush seem simple but are often confused to the detriment of understanding climate change. This is where a simple analogy can help. Weather is the state of the atmosphere at a given time and place. It is very specific, local, and ephemeral — a snapshot in time much like a photograph. This is in contrast to climate, which is made up of long-term weather patterns with average temperatures and precipitation totals, including weather extremes, that are used to characterize a particular region. Think of climate more like a documentary movie. It takes thousands of "weather photos" put together to see the "climate movie" and to tell its story. Just like the latest Hollywood blockbuster, trying to take any one or two frames (weather events in this case) out of the movie reel to tell the whole story would not only be misleading, but useless. Only the aggregation of all the photo frames put together can tell the whole story. 

Understanding extreme weather’s relationship to climate change is another one. To the Earth’s atmosphere, adding moisture is like giving a baseball player steroids. When that slugger hits 70 home runs, we can’t say that home run number 12 was because of the steroids but number 36 he would have hit regardless. We can say, however, that he is likely to hit home runs more often and with more power. Similarly, climate scientists can’t say that any one particular hurricane or storm was caused only because of climate change, but they can say storms are likely to occur more often and be bigger and cause more damage because of the increased CO₂ and moisture that’s been added to the atmosphere.

For educators, what’s your top advice for teaching about climate?

Ed: Start with the questions you’re genuinely curious about. Chances are your learners have the same ones. Let your own learning lead. You don’t have to have all the answers.

What do you think often gets overlooked in conversations about climate?

Ed: I think it’s really important to understand that, speaking in geologic time scales, climate change is always happening and always will be as long as there is an Earth for it to happen on. The Earth gets warmer or cooler; deserts, lagoons, and oceans ebb and flow; continents shift; and mountains uplift and erode. The coming and going of ice ages and the warming and cooling of the climate are all part of the planet’s complex climate system. The Earth is not static, it is dynamic, and the climate would change with or without the presence of people. So people may wonder that if climate is always changing, why are scientists so concerned about current and future changes? It’s because changes being experienced today are happening very rapidly, are being driven primarily by human activity, and similar rapid climate changes in Earth’s past have never been good news for the majority of species living on the planet at the time. It’s critical to understand that the actions that we take to curb the worst effects of climate change right now are essentially, really, to save us, not to save the planet at large. Slowing climate change is about saving the current ecosystems that we rely on. Rather than “save the Earth,” I’d say, “save the Earthlings.” And the other key point is that it’s in our hands, that we’re the ones who can decide through our actions what kind of climate change we’re going to see over the coming decades and beyond.

What are you seeing in the field that’s relevant for our region?

Ed: While our network isn’t designed to track weather events directly, we do monitor things like forest health and streamflow. At Acadia, we’ve seen more extreme rain events in recent years that have caused significant damage to park infrastructure. At Saratoga National Historical Park, big storms have taken down large sections of forest, and invasive species are filling in those gaps faster than native ones can.

We’re also seeing pests like the hemlock woolly adelgid moving northward as winters warm. Our long-term monitoring reflects that bird populations are in decline, too. On the flip side, many parks are actively using our data to plan forest resilience strategies, such as managing deer populations and protecting native plant communities.

What about parks that don’t have as many forested or natural areas—I’m thinking of historical parks, for example. Why would they be concerned about climate change? 

Ed: For sure. Some urban-based parks, like in Boston, are right on the coast, so they’re seeing impacts from storm surges. We also work with inland parks, like Saint-Gaudens National Historical Park in New Hampshire, which has amazing works of art displayed throughout the property. Extreme weather events can have impacts on those also, anything from erosion to falling trees to flooding. Another example is Minute Man National Historical Park, whose historic battlefields need to be managed to control invasive plants, and old buildings that can take a beating from extreme weather events.

Climate change can be overwhelming. How do you balance scientific urgency with hope and action in your communication with visitors and students?

Ed: What I try to make clear is that the tools to dramatically reduce our contributions to climate change already exist, and more become available every year. The fact that it’s all in our hands can be daunting, but also very hopeful.

Looking ahead, what do you think the field of climate change education needs to do to make a real difference? Where are the biggest gaps? And what are the most exciting opportunities?

Ed: Having a strong foundation in climate science is incredibly important. The earlier we can give students that foundation, the better. It doesn’t have to be “doom and gloom” or even mention climate change for early ages, but we should share the basic facts about what makes up the climate system and talk about the Earth and how it works so that as they get older, they can build on this foundation and draw their own informed conclusions. Something I find exciting is how imaginative kids can be. If kids grow up with this knowledge in their back pocket, they can come up with some amazing solutions. 

Finally, for fellow educators in the Northeast trying to deepen their impact, what advice would you give? How can people learn from what you’re doing and how can that support them in their work?

Ed: Keep at it! Climate can be woven into anything as it affects every aspect of our lives. I make sure that climate is part of every program I do. And make climate change relatable to people’s everyday lives. We’ve experienced a lot of extreme weather here in the Northeast this past decade or so, so there’s lots of impacts to reference that are very personal to people.

Know that the folks who are managing the parks in your area are also concerned about climate change. All it takes is asking a park ranger or whoever else you’re connected with to begin a conversation and learn about what your park is doing. Your local park may have volunteer opportunities for you and your learners to get involved with.

Learn More: If you’re interested in learning more about NETN’s work, visit their website—data is available to explore by park or by topic—or reach out to Ed directly if you’d like to discuss ways of sharing NETN’s work with your community of learners.

As we celebrate MLK, we turn to Atlanta to spotlight Stefan, an environmental scientist, musician, educator, and the North American Association for Environmental Education's Rosa Parks & Grace Lee Boggs Awardee. His work seamlessly blends climate science, environmental justice, and creative expression. From groundbreaking research in ecotoxicology to founding innovative projects like the Saltwater Underground Railroad Experience, Stefan shares how his Bahamian heritage, experiences in Atlanta, and love for making climate science more accessible have shaped his approach to teaching and inspiring the next generation.

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Joan Haley: Stefan, let’s start with your journey. Can you share some pivotal experiences—personal or professional—that have shaped your multi-faceted career? 

Stefan Moss: At this stage in life, I present myself as an environmental scientist and educator. Before that, I worked in environmental consulting, primarily with oil and gas companies. I’d visit remediation sites with thousands of gallons of gasoline in the ground. I wanted my work to be meaningful, but it just felt overwhelming going from site to site and seeing the damage that was already done. And I thought to myself, 'Hey, how can I make sure that the kids that come up, who pursue careers and become professionals and business owners, that they don't do things that would cause this type of environmental impact?' I realized that if we’re passing these challenges to the next generation, we must equip them to handle them and, honestly, I don't think as a generation we've done the best job of that. Ultimately this led me to the classroom, and I haven't looked back since. I don't think I will.

Emigrating to the U.S. was another pivotal moment. I grew up in the Bahamas, on New Providence Island, which is a very small island, 7 miles by 21 miles, and I didn't have any connection to the United States or anything like that. The change forced me to grow and expand my range of possibilities.

How has your Bahamian heritage influenced your perspective on climate and education?

Stefan: Being a Bahamian means that you are very connected to the land. Your sense of place is very acute. Everything's right there. Our communities are small, so any changes that you see, even small changes, can have long-term and big consequences. Growing up in the Bahamas in the 90's, we had lots of massive hotel projects. That brought a lot of tourists into the country, but the hotels were humongous. All of the construction resulted in limited access to certain areas for locals. This gave me an appreciation for place and how place can change very quickly when money is involved. 

From a Traditional Ecological Knowledge perspective, our ancestors were very attuned to their environment. They knew when a hurricane was coming. They knew when storms were on the way; they could smell it. They knew which plants to use for what. When kids are now on their phones, or in the house and not going outside and not spending time in the ocean, then they can't feel how the temperatures are changing. They can't feel how strong those storms are becoming because they're not really tuned into those changes. 

I have family members that are fishermen and they'll say, 'Hey, look man, we used to get all these fish in this area and now we go there and we don't see them anymore.' The scientists may not notice it yet, but the folks who go out there every day or every year already know. They're intimately connected to those places and those organisms so they can tell when things are changing. That's the type of wisdom that needs to be passed down to our kids to address these climate challenges.

Going from the Bahamas to Atlanta sounds like quite a change. How has this influenced your work, especially as it relates to environmental justice?

Stefan: It was a learning curve for me, moving to Atlanta. Atlanta is a melting pot. There are lots of different types of people here from all walks of life, from all cultural backgrounds. I had to come in very humbly, ask questions, and listen.  

I've also had to really sit down with folks who grew up here, folks who have experienced racism and discrimination. And yes, I've experienced some of those issues as well, but because of where I come from, I think differently about those issues sometimes. And so, I've had to really learn and reflect on how my experience as an immigrant is different from people who grew up in the city and had issues, how those issues affected not just them, but their parents, their grandparents.

I've had to learn my surroundings and how, for example, in Atlanta, for a long time, there was no public transportation that extended out into the suburbs because the fear was that the Black folks in the city would somehow find their way out into the suburbs. And so they didn't create transportation mechanisms that would allow Blacks to move freely. They tried to confine Blacks to particular areas of the city. It's just like, all these different things that unless you come and learn and listen and read, you won't fully understand. And even if you do all that, you still don't fully understand unless you've lived it.

Do you see Dr. King’s legacy influencing environmental justice in Atlanta or elsewhere?

Stefan: The civil rights movement and the environmental movement, they were happening around the same time. A recognition that in many cases we treat each other just as bad as we treat the environment. 

It's something about our heart that needs to change. Scientific knowledge, although it’s very, very important, in many cases it's just not enough to get people to make the changes that need to be made in terms of how they treat the planet. 

Having other ways of knowing on the table, like faith, which might not be for everybody, but in the case of Dr. King, for example, faith can be a very powerful tool. Specifically, if we're talking about stewardship of creation and a Bible mandate to look out for the environment to take care of it, that's very explicit in ancient writings that we should be good stewards of our environment. That we should love our neighbor as we love ourselves. So, imagine if we just did those things; so many of the problems that we're facing would just go away. But the fact is that we're still having to ring the bell of environmental justice and acknowledge that some people are disproportionately affected by environmental issues. And unfortunately, that's usually people of color, Black and brown people. 

Taking care of people, making sure that people have basic rights as human beings, should be a no-brainer, but of course it wasn't and still isn’t. That lack of fairness and justice, that's something that we're going to have to still talk about. And if faith brings us to the table where we can say, 'Hey, look, do you agree that we're made in the image of a creator?' And if we're all made in that image, then we should look out for each other the same way. We shouldn't treat people unfairly. We shouldn't have some groups of people experiencing more pollution than other groups, and we should obviously work together to limit and eliminate pollution where we can.

How about your work with youth? What strategies have you found most effective in inspiring them to take an active role in climate stewardship? 

Stefan: Before we ever get to climate stewardship, my strategy is to start inward and work outward. We break stewardship into three main steps. You start off with personal stewardship. That's taking care of yourself. That's being aware of your own feelings. Taking responsibility for your thoughts and your actions and behaviors. Young people need to understand that because that influences their behavior, how they treat themselves, how they perceive themselves, their self-esteem, self-confidence, self-worth. That's where we start the conversation. 

From there, we move into building relationships with others, like your family members, your friends, your acquaintances, keeping those connections valuable and healthy. We talk about relationships of all types and how to build relationships with others while maintaining your personal sense of self and self worth.

Then we can expand the conversation beyond relationships with friends and family members to the trees that are in your neighborhood, the wildlife that's in your community. Do you know anything about them? Do you know the issues that they're facing? And what are the environmental issues now that are on the table? 

It takes time. They don't get it right away. But as they continue to exercise a stewardship ethic and ask the questions, they suddenly realize, 'Shoot, why is it that we treat each other so horribly? Does that also translate into how we treat the planet?' If we can't even take care of each other and look out for each other as human beings, how are we going to protect a rhino, in some country far away, that's facing extinction? We can't have that conversation unless we can deal with the ones closer to the chest.

Climate science can be hard. How do you get your students interested in understanding these complex concepts?

Stefan: While getting my master's at the University of Tennessee, I researched legacy chemicals in the Tennessee River and their effects on freshwater turtles—getting baseline concentrations of PCBs and pesticides dumped there over 100 years. The most exciting part came when my professor challenged me to create lesson plans from our research. We partnered with local schools and created this fun board game about conservation work, teaching kids everything from grant writing to field data collection. It was the first time I realized I could translate science in a way that was cool for students, taking 'hard science' and making it accessible through play-based learning, especially since these kids could relate to the river they'd seen. That really lit a fire under me about continuing to make science relatable and fun. Games are a fascinating way to engage students.

I enjoy taking students outside as often as possible so that they can experience the phenomena that we discuss in my classes. Last year, I worked with a few of the students in my Earth Science class to obtain their Adopt-A-Stream testing certifications so that they can do temperature, pH, conductivity, and dissolved oxygen testing in the creek that runs behind our campus.  

I also love writing songs about nature. It's easier to remember a song than it is to remember an essay or something like that. So, if a teacher can take a scientific idea and make it singable and catchy, it can be powerful. I wrote a song about climate change called “Changes.” 

But for some people, it might not be music, it might be visual arts. You can paint a landscape. Whatever creative skill that you have that you can use to help explain scientific ideas, you should do that. Partnering science with art or partnering science with history, whatever topic that is required to help students understand those scientific concepts should be something that's embraced. In 2018, I launched a STEM/History project about the Underground Railroad that I share with my students so that they can see the ocean from a different perspective, as a pathway to freedom. We have decades of data that support the claims of scientists about our changing climate. These scientists come from many different walks of life. It's not a conspiracy. It's not a Republican thing. It’s not a Democrat thing. Making sure students fully understand scientific concepts and how to assess research findings for themselves is one key to depoliticizing climate change.

Any final thoughts for our readers around MLK’s birthday and the inauguration?

Stefan: Just show up, be consistent, and stay committed to the work. Don't be afraid. There are new challenges every day. Lean into an uncertain future by speaking truth to power. When we show up, we can make a difference.

This month, we are honored to interview Dr. Lesley-Ann Dupigny-Giroux, Vermont’s State Climatologist. She is a former president of the American Association of State Climatologists and is a professor of Geography at the University of Vermont. Dr. Dupigny-Giroux has dedicated her career to advancing climate literacy, researching extreme weather, and understanding the impacts of climate change on communities. Her work, which spans everything from hydrology to geographic information systems, is widely recognized and includes significant contributions to the U.S. National Climate Assessments. In this conversation, Dr. Dupigny-Giroux reflects on the importance of building trust, fostering collaboration, and embracing uncertainty as we strive to advance climate education and action in a complex and evolving landscape.

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Joan Haley: Dr. Dupigny-Giroux, thank you for joining us.  Can you tell us a little about your journey as an educator and climatologist?

Dr. Lesley-Ann Dupigny-Giroux: They always say that you look back at five-year intervals and see how much you've grown or changed. The world has changed so much in the last five years that there's a different type of change going on. Having never been through something like COVID was life-altering on so many levels. It made people dig deep and reconnect with their core, their values, and all the things that had gotten them to that particular point. For me, one moment that stands out was becoming president of the American Association of State Climatologists ten days after George Floyd’s death. I had to step into a national role while navigating a global pandemic, and I became a consoler, helping people figure out, ‘Where do we go from here?’ How can we still connect with each other when we couldn’t meet in person for the massive hugfests or sidebars we usually had? It forced us to find new ways to show up for one another.

How have those challenges influenced your practices?

Lesley-Ann: It’s changed the way I teach and present. I consciously say I’m showing up as a scientist trained in climatology, but I’m a person first. I cannot stand here and do this from a cold perspective. I bring myself into the conversation, into the science I’m sharing, and that shifts the level of engagement. I also think about how to maintain connection in virtual spaces. During the pandemic, we were on screens for hours and hours. The question became: How can you make those spaces feel as connected as sitting down together over coffee or mint tea? It’s not the same, but it’s about bringing that sense of presence into the space. That’s been transformational in how I engage, both as a teacher and a leader.

You’ve emphasized systems thinking in your teaching. Why is this approach so important?

Lesley-Ann: I grew up in Trinidad, where we had a very integrated approach to education. Science wasn’t compartmentalized—it was all connected. That’s shaped how I approach climatology and teaching. You need a systems-based approach because core principles in climate science can be applied across disciplines—from history to home economics to geography. When my students tell me, after 15 weeks, ‘It’s all connected,’ I know I’ve done my job. What’s challenging is when education becomes compartmentalized, and students don’t get the chance to see how things fit together. That’s why team teaching is so powerful. It models collaboration for students, showing them how different perspectives contribute to a bigger picture.

For me, it’s also about finding those little moments of magic in learning. I remember doing a balloon launch years ago with kids as young as four. The balloon went up, and the data came back in beeps, depending on how cold it was at a certain height. These kids were counting the beeps and saying, ‘Give me the data! I want the data!’ It was adorable, but it was also real learning. One of the kids said, ‘As the balloon goes up, the temperature goes down.’ That’s a core principle—lapse rate—but they figured it out themselves. It’s those moments of discovery that stick with you.

How do you approach collaboration and trust-building in your work?

Lesley-Ann: You cannot rush human processes. Moving at the speed of trust is essential in climate work and education. When state climatologists show up, our first question is always, ‘How can I help you?’ It’s about walking alongside people and uncovering what they need, rather than imposing answers. For me, collaboration is about creating solutions together. It’s like sitting down with someone and saying, ‘Let’s have a cup of coffee, and let’s figure this out.’ You’re not just there to fix things—you’re there to listen and build relationships. That’s how real, meaningful connections happen.

You’ve spoken about honoring diverse knowledge systems. How does that influence your work with different communities?

Lesley-Ann: It’s fascinating to see how Indigenous stories align with western scientific observations. Being in a space where it all makes sense is a privilege. Honoring all knowledge systems and ways of knowing is critical. Diversity isn’t just about race or ethnicity. It’s about lived experiences, being a new American, or non-visible aspects of identity. Classrooms are rarely as homogeneous as they appear. Asking questions, listening, and understanding where people are coming from helps me ensure my examples resonate. If they don’t, I make a little joke and move on. I try to meet people where they are and invite them into the conversation.

With recent political shifts and uncertainties, how do you see this moment impacting climate education and action?

Lesley-Ann: I think it’s too early to really give a full answer. It’s sort of like trying to know the unknowns without knowing which unknowns you don’t know. As humans, we like to know what’s going to happen, but sometimes we just don’t, and that’s where anxiety—on both personal and collective levels—comes in. In moments like these, it’s important to hold on to the things we can do, stay connected to the people in our circles, and continue moving at the speed of trust.

As many of us process the recent election’s impact on our work and relationships, we’re focusing on the emotional resilience needed to stay grounded and connected. To help us navigate these feelings, I spoke with Cassandra (Cassie) Mathelier, a licensed social worker, therapist, and environmental justice advocate who’s dedicated to helping people through tough times with compassion and practical tools. Cassie offers insights on coping with grief, building trust, and fostering connections in polarized times for anyone grappling with the intersection of political uncertainty and environmental concerns.

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Joan Haley: Thanks for being here, Cassie. Your work brings together therapy and environmental justice. How did that come about?

Cassie Mathelier: It’s been a bit of a long and winding road. Back in college, I studied a variety of different subjects in the humanities and earth sciences. I started seeing all these connections—how society shapes the environment, how the environment shapes us, and how individual psychology is woven into all of that.

For a long time, I thought I had to pick one path until I did a horticultural apprenticeship at a nature-based therapeutic center for kids with trauma and disabilities. That experience was eye-opening. The kids learned so much—self-regulation, communication, even care for themselves—through their relationships with plants and animals. Watching bees, for example, taught them about community and working together. It was beautiful, and it really stuck with me.

Now, I’m working toward integrating my therapy practice more intentionally with environmental work. It’s a big, long-term goal, but I’ve seen how powerful those connections can be.

A lot of people in our community are feeling grief, even despair, at the moment. What advice do you have for coping with that?

Cassie: First, just let yourself feel it. It’s okay to grieve. Some things are hard to bounce back from, and it’s important to be honest with yourself about that. And in that process be gentle with yourself. Take time to contemplate and nourish yourself while you’re feeling down. Recharge and recalibrate, and when you feel ready you can begin to ask yourself: What are the small steps I can take toward what I do want to see in the world? At the same time, there is a lot of power in making peace with the things you can’t control in the moment. It’s not about giving up; it’s about freeing up your energy for what matters most.

That makes sense and that is hard to do. Do you have specific ways to help people move through these feelings?

Cassie: If you wake up feeling like you got kicked in the stomach, give yourself permission to slow down. Maybe take a little more time getting ready in the morning. Do fewer things that day. Whatever it is that you need to refill your internal battery. For some people that might involve finding ways to untangle your thoughts by talking or writing it out, for others that could be finding outlets to let the built-up emotions move through you with movement or exercise, and for others making more space to connect and feel supported, either through quality time with loved ones or more time spent in nature.

It can also help to lean more into the little things that bring you joy. Whether it’s visiting certain local places you love, spending time with people who you enjoy, or doing activities you find rewarding or fun, take the time to connect with that which inspires you. Big, systemic issues like climate change don’t get solved overnight. So while you’re working toward change, don’t forget to enjoy the day you’re actually living in.

You mentioned connecting with others and I’ve noticed that being with like-minded people really helps, but sometimes anxiety in groups can feel contagious. How do we balance that?

Cassie: Community is huge—it’s comforting to feel understood and supported. But it’s important to notice when group conversations start spiraling into a persistent panic or hateful approach to the situation. This isn’t about silencing anyone; it’s about finding balance. If you’re not feeling more connected and instead more fearful and adrift by engaging in these conversations, try using 'I' statements, like, 'I’m feeling really overwhelmed right now. Can we take a break and come back to this?' It’s good to check in with the group, too. You can redefine what you need these conversations to be. Maybe you need to be frustrated and overwhelmed together, and maybe you need to reconnect with the good, or the options you have as a collective to act in the name of what you care about.

I’m imagining the potential for burnout for those working in education and environment is particularly high at the moment. How can we spot it and respond?

Cassie: Burnout looks different for everyone and can show up in ways such as trouble sleeping, feeling constantly on-edge, or just being more self-critical. If you notice those things, it’s time to step back. Even small acts of care, like going for a walk or letting yourself rest, can make a difference. That’s not selfish; it’s how you stay sustainable for the long haul.

What about conversations with people who don’t share your views? I’m thinking about family during the holidays and also others on the opposite side of the political spectrum.

Cassie: Start by managing expectations. You’re unlikely to change someone’s mind in one conversation. Approach people with curiosity instead of judgment. Instead of, 'Why do you think that?!,' try, 'I’m really curious about how you came to this perspective.' It keeps the conversation open and reduces defensiveness. And honestly? It takes a lot of patience. A lot.

Doing activities together—like cooking or taking a walk—can make tough conversations easier. There’s actual research behind how movement helps keep your brain more regulated during hard discussions.

Avoid shaming or using judgmental language because it only creates more distance. Sometimes the best thing you can do is model patience and empathy, even if it’s hard. If it gets heated, step back. You can say something like, 'I don’t think we’re going to agree on this today, but I’d still like to enjoy this time with you.' Focus on seeing your limits and protecting the relationship and building (or rebuilding) trust.

You might lose your cool though, and that’s okay. All you can do is try your best. Give yourself and others grace to navigate these moments imperfectly.

You’ve mentioned that people sometimes resist change, and perhaps don’t want to acknowledge realities like changing climate or social structures because it feels unsafe. How can educators and other leaders address that?

Cassie: People want to feel safe, and safety often looks like familiarity. Change can be scary, so it’s important to take things slow and really listen. If you’re working in a group, spend time building trust. Focus on shared values, like community well-being, and work together to come up with solutions that account for the needs of everyone involved as much as possible.

Storytelling keeps coming up in conversations about building bridges and healing wounds. What role does storytelling play in bringing people together?

Cassie: Storytelling can connect us to our collective history and the many varied ways that we have decided to engage with our world as a species. It can help us to consider how people have navigated through challenging and tumultuous times before. One of the most powerful things about stories is that they touch on emotions and experiences that logic alone can’t reach. Whether it’s through words, art, music, or even movement, stories have this way of saying, 'You’re not alone. Others have this feeling, too,' which is reassuring when people feel isolated or misunderstood. And stories can spark imagination for the future. They can help us reimagine how we approach familiar situations and inspire collective action towards new possibilities.

Finally, for those of us working with youth, what would you say to young people who are really struggling with everything going on?

Cassie: I think the biggest thing is to give them the space to say what they’re thinking and feeling. Let them get honest about where their heads are at. It’s important to create opportunities for them to connect with nature too. I don’t think I’d have the connection I have to the environment now if I hadn’t grown up where I did or had the experiences I’ve had. Also, let them figure out how they want to get involved. Let them explore what matters to them and how they want to engage with the world—and if you can, join them in that journey. If it’s possible—and I know it’s hard given all that educators already have to do—try to teach and model emotional intelligence. I know the world can feel overwhelming, but it’s still full of love, beauty, and playfulness. Life is so short. We’re not guaranteed a single day, and that’s all the more reason to enjoy what’s good while it’s here.

Sarah Bodor, Senior Director of Capacity Building for the North American Association for Environmental Education (NAAEE), plays a central role in shaping the future of climate change education through policy and advocacy. In this interview, she shares her insights on efforts to establish education as a critical component for addressing the climate crisis.

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Joan Haley: Good morning, Sarah! Let's jump right in. Policy and politics are on many of our minds right now. When did NAAEE start its research to map the landscape of K–12 climate education policy?

Sarah Bodor: We began about four or five years ago, after receiving a grant from the Woka Foundation. This support allowed us to deeply explore the landscape of climate change education, especially regarding policy. At NAAEE, we see education as a key tool in addressing environmental challenges, and climate change is one of the most pressing. Unfortunately, education isn't always recognized as a central part of the solution. 

Why did you prioritize policy in this effort?

Sarah: Policy has the power to create systemic impact. Climate change education is constantly evolving, and we wanted to understand the policy landscape to help provide tools and resources that make policy changes more feasible. It’s been exciting, though challenging, to keep pace with the rapid changes.

Were there any surprises in your findings?

Sarah: One expected finding was that climate change education is largely confined to science classes, focusing mainly on the science behind climate change. There's little emphasis on solutions, adaptation, or mitigation. I was surprised, however, to discover that even in states with environmental literacy plans, climate change is often missing, likely because many of these plans predate the current urgency of the issue.

One pleasant surprise was how widely teachers recognize the need for more climate change education, even if they aren’t always sure where to find resources or professional development.

Another key finding is how much signals from the top matter for administrators and teachers. Where policies exist—or even where there’s a perception of policy—there’s a marked increase in climate education happening in the classroom. Policy gives teachers the “permission structure” to teach about climate change and also can support practical needs like funding for teacher training and curriculum development.

How have you seen climate action policies evolve over the past few years, especially in the context of education?

Sarah: It’s fascinating to see how much things have evolved, particularly in the last decade. Early climate action policies focused heavily on mitigation—things like reducing emissions or transitioning to clean energy. But in recent years, we’ve seen a much broader approach that includes adaptation, resilience, and justice.

Education has started to become more recognized as an essential part of climate action, though we’re still not where we need to be. One big shift has been the realization that preparing young people for the green jobs of the future—jobs in renewable energy, sustainability, and climate science—needs to start with education. Workforce development is becoming a key component of climate policy, and states are starting to think about how to integrate climate education into their K–12 systems as part of that effort.

At the federal level, we’ve been pushing for education to be included in larger climate action frameworks like the Inflation Reduction Act and other legislation. But some of the most innovative work is happening at the state and local levels, where school districts are incorporating climate action plans that align with their cities’ or states’ broader environmental goals. This is where we’re seeing real progress—on the ground, in communities that understand the need for systemic change.

The Coalition for Climate Education Policy formed after the 2020 presidential election, when it became clear that the new administration would take a “whole-of-government approach” to climate change. We wanted to ensure education was part of that conversation. We initially focused on federal policy but later shifted to state and local levels, where we saw more opportunities. We now provide tools like our state and local advocacy toolkit to help advocates.

Tell us about the toolkit. 

Sarah: Our new toolkit is designed to be a resource for advocates at all levels—whether you're a teacher, an environmental educator, or someone who’s interested in influencing policy at the state or local level. The toolkit helps people understand their local context and the political landscape they’re working within. For instance, it provides a set of questions that help assess how open your state or local district is to climate change education policies. It also includes practical advice on how to navigate the decision-making process—whether it’s something that can be addressed at the school board level or needs legislative action. We’ve compiled summaries of successful state and local policies, as well as tools for coalition building and advocacy strategies. What’s especially valuable is that the toolkit highlights real-world examples of successful policy changes, with contact information for people who made them happen, so you can learn directly from others’ experiences.

How does climate justice fit into the Coalition’s policy work?

Sarah: This is such an important piece of the conversation. In our policy work, we believe that nothing should be decided without the input of the communities most affected. 

In terms of education policy, this means involving those communities in the creation of climate change curricula and ensuring that the benefits of climate education—whether it’s knowledge, resources, or job opportunities—reach everyone. One way we’ve been addressing this is through the Justice40 Initiative, which the current administration has pushed forward. It requires federal agencies to ensure that at least 40% of the benefits of federal climate-related programs go to frontline communities. We’re working to advocate for more resources to be directed towards environmental justice efforts within education, and for more inclusive engagement in the policymaking process.

There’s also the issue of access—making sure that federal and state grants for climate education reach schools in underserved areas, where there’s often less access to resources. We want to make sure that environmental justice isn’t just a buzzword, but a tangible part of the work we’re doing to create more equitable educational systems.

Which federal agencies are playing key roles in supporting climate education?

Sarah: NOAA has been a leader in this space, particularly through their environmental literacy grants and their newly released Climate Literacy Guide. However, federal programs like NOAA’s and the EPA’s are often underfunded, and proposals to cut or privatize services like the National Weather Service are concerning. We need robust federal support for climate education to continue.

Can you share some examples of states pursuing innovative climate education policies?

Sarah: Absolutely! Both Kentucky and Maine provide great examples, though they approach the issue in very different contexts.

In Maine, a few years ago, a legislator introduced a bill to address climate change, but it didn’t originally include education. Because the environmental education community in Maine was so well-organized, they were able to approach the legislator and point out that education was a missing piece. The legislator was receptive, and the education component ended up being the only part of the bill that actually passed! They secured funding—around $2 million—for teacher professional development grants and additional funds to administer the program. This is a great example of being prepared, paying attention, and being able to advocate when an opportunity presents itself. It shows that education can be an essential part of larger climate policies if we make the case for it.

Now, Kentucky is a very different story, but just as inspiring. Kentucky is a more conservative state, so the approach there has been less about directly pushing climate change and more about finding the right framing. A few years ago, our affiliate in Kentucky realized they weren’t doing any advocacy with their state legislature and wanted to change that. They decided to focus on topics that had broader appeal, like early childhood education and green schools legislation, which are less politically charged. They organized an Environmental Education Day at their state capitol and had a great turnout. They’ve since built strong relationships with legislators, and while their first bill didn’t pass, they’re continuing to build momentum. What’s exciting here is that they’ve been able to create a legislative presence from scratch by focusing on issues that resonate across the political spectrum.

These examples show that, no matter the political climate, you can still make progress if you’re strategic and build strong local networks.

That’s so encouraging, especially for people working in states where climate change might not be as politically acceptable. It’s about finding the right entry point and building from there.

Sarah: Exactly. You don’t always need to lead with "climate change" in the conversation. You can talk about job creation, reduction in fuel costs for schools, or even mental health, which are all deeply connected to climate education. By framing the conversation in a way that resonates with local values, you can still make progress toward your climate and education goals.

Thank you, Sarah, for sharing NAAEE’s and the Coalition’s incredibly important work.

Sarah: Thank you, Joan! I’m excited about the future of this work and look forward to what’s ahead.

Olivia Griset is the Executive Director of the Maine Environmental Education Association (MEEA), a statewide network focused on building environmental awareness and action by centering equity and systemic change. She’s passionate about supporting youth and educators, especially those with less access to environmental education. Under her leadership, MEEA has become a driving force for environmental justice and collaboration across Maine and an inspiration to those of us working in the field of climate change education in the Northeast.

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Joan Haley: Olivia, before we dive into your work, can you share a bit about yourself? What shaped you as a person and led you to this important work?

Olivia Griset: Sure! I grew up in a small, conservative town in Utah, and I come from a low-income background. But my parents had a deep connection to nature, which really shaped who I am today. My mom, in particular, was a huge influence. Even though she didn’t have a formal education—she started college the same day I started kindergarten—she was determined to create opportunities for me and my sisters. She started a family nature club for us because there weren’t any programs for girls like the boys had with Scouts. We didn’t have a TV, so I spent most of my time outside, exploring nature.

Watching my mom go through college while raising us taught me the power of education. It was incredible to see how her world expanded with the opportunities education gave her, and that has really driven my belief that access to education, especially environmental education, can be life-changing.

It sounds like your upbringing really set the foundation for your work today. MEEA has grown so much under your leadership—how did you get involved with the organization, and what was it like when you started?

Olivia: When I first got involved with MEEA, it was an entirely volunteer-run organization—no paid staff at all. I had been working as a high school environmental science teacher and was on the board of MEEA as a volunteer. When I stepped away from teaching to be with my kids, I had more time to invest in the organization, and I could see how much potential MEEA had. There were so many opportunities for growth, but what we needed most was capacity.

So, I started volunteering heavily, helping to raise funds and build partnerships. In 2018, we were finally ready to hire our first employee. I stepped off the board, applied for the Executive Director role, and got the job—working part-time, just 20 hours a week. Since then, we’ve grown from having no staff to a team of eight full-time employees. It’s been an incredible journey, and I’ve learned so much about nonprofit management along the way.

What do you think has been the key to MEEA’s growth, and how has collaboration played a role in that?

Olivia: Collaboration is at the heart of everything we do. From the start, we’ve believed in the power of working together and have been intentional about building partnerships. I don’t think there’s a single project at MEEA that isn’t done in collaboration with at least one other organization. It’s a core value for us—putting aside egos and logos to focus on the bigger picture and the impact we can have together.

We’ve also been deeply committed to centering equity in everything we do. We’ve asked ourselves hard questions about who’s in leadership, how leadership is shared, and how we make sure that those who have traditionally been left out of environmental spaces are brought to the forefront. The environmental movement has historically been very white and privileged, and if we don’t address that, we’re not going to move the needle on climate justice.

It’s also been crucial to have the support of foundations in Maine that believe in the long-term value of our work. We’ve been fortunate to have funders who see the importance of investing in the movement, not just in one-off projects. That’s allowed us to grow sustainably.

MEEA’s work on climate justice is impressive. Can you share more about how you’re addressing this issue, particularly through education?

Olivia: For us, climate education is absolutely a justice issue. Right now, access to high-quality climate education is not universal, and it’s deeply inequitable across school districts and communities. We’re pushing to change that by ensuring that every student, regardless of where they live, has access to climate education.

We’ve been especially focused on rural youth in Maine, who are often isolated. Maine is one of the most rural states in the U.S., and we’re working to create opportunities for young people to connect, access mentorship, and get involved in policy work. It’s all about breaking down barriers and making sure that young people from all backgrounds can engage with climate solutions.

How did you first get involved with the Northeast Climate Change Education Collaborative, and what role do you think it plays in advancing climate education?

Olivia: I got involved with the Collaborative during COVID, probably through connections at the Gulf of Maine Research Institute. I’m naturally drawn to collaboration—any space where people are coming together to think about how we can collectively address climate education excites me.

The Collaborative has been a great space for shared learning and relationship-building, which is so important. I think there’s potential for it to go further, especially in terms of collective action around climate education policy. We’ve made some great strides in Maine, and I think we can do even more as a region to push for stronger climate education policies across the Northeast.

When you think about the future of climate education, what changes do you think are necessary?

Olivia: There’s a lot that needs to change. One big issue is that education has been underinvested in by the broader climate movement. It’s seen as a long-term solution, so it’s often deprioritized, but it’s just as critical as decarbonization efforts. If we don’t equip young people with the skills, knowledge, and creativity to address the climate crisis, we’re in trouble.

We also need to stop separating climate education from justice. These issues are interconnected. When we talk about climate education, we need to ask: Are we just giving deeper opportunities to students who already have access, or are we opening doors for those who’ve been left out? For me, climate education must be seen through an equity lens.

You’ve been working in the field for about 20 years now. What are some of the biggest lessons you’ve learned along the way?

Olivia: One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is to embrace complexity. In this work, it’s easy to get siloed or try to simplify problems, but real change happens when we acknowledge how interconnected everything is. We need to make space for the complexity of people’s experiences and perspectives. 

I’ve also learned the importance of stepping back. As someone with a lot of privilege, I’ve realized that I don’t always need to be at the forefront. My role is often to support and elevate others, especially those who have been marginalized in environmental spaces. It’s about recognizing when it’s your time to lead and when it’s your time to listen and support.

That’s a powerful reflection. As we wrap up, is there a quote or piece of wisdom that keeps you going in this challenging work?

Olivia: I always come back to this Octavia Butler quote: 'All that you touch, you Change. All that you Change, Changes you. The only lasting truth is Change.' Whether we like it or not. It’s a good reminder that we have the power to create the world we want to live in, even when things feel hard.

Meet Ali Jackson, a dynamic leader in science education who wears many hats supporting our work in climate education. She is the Director of Programs and Partnerships at the Sciencenter and leads a community of practice for science and technology museums participating in the innovative Learning Ecosystems Northeast (LENE). Known for her warmth, engaging approach, and commitment to building supportive communities, she offers insights into the challenges and opportunities in climate education.

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Joan Haley: How did you get involved with the Collaborative, and what have been some of the highlights or meaningful experiences for you?

Ali Jackson: I learned about the Collaborative from the Sciencenter’s work with the Learning Ecosystems Northeast (LENE) project, which is run by the Gulf of Maine Research Institute. I've been leading a community of practice, which includes several different small to mid-sized regional science museums around the Northeast. The first time I actually went to a Collaborative gathering was just this spring, and it was really exciting to see that energy and to participate in the Summit. There are many points of connection between the Collaborative and the LENE project.

What's a pivotal moment in your life that inspired you to focus on climate education?

Ali: There wasn't a single moment, but rather a series of experiences. Seeing the impact of climate change firsthand, like flooding, made me realize the long-term implications. When I had kids, it became even more personal. I wanted to integrate my values into my work. Projects like LENE have helped me focus on climate education more intentionally. Sometimes I feel imposter syndrome around experts, but finding points of connection helps.

Can you describe the structure and function of LENE and what you feel makes it so successful?

Ali: The Learning Ecosystems Northeast network is a collaboration that has evolved and grown over time, in part through some wonderful strategic funding from NASA. At its core, it comes down to the idea that youth are both the voice of our climate future and the actors in terms of tackling climate challenges. It's critical that wherever young learners are going in their community, whether it's in the classroom, museum, libraries, parks, or after-school programs, they encounter caring adults who can forward their interest in climate, science, and STEM skills. To do that best, we think there's a place for forging and fostering local communities of educators so that they know what's going on and can have meaningful conversations that support youth learning.

The success of LENE lies in its community-building approach. We focus on creating connections between educators so that they can support each other and share resources. This network effect means that ideas and best practices spread organically, improving the overall quality of climate education across the region. It’s about creating a web of support that makes everyone stronger and strengthens our impact.

I've been thinking a lot about STEM and how climate education has been moving away from science in some ways. It's unique how the LENE project is set up, with science centers serving to connect local ecosystems of educators and learners. How are science centers balancing this shift and engaging youth in climate education?

Ali: I love that question. So, with the LENE project, we've really emphasized data literacy and understanding patterns and trends, partly due to funding and because science-focused institutions like GMRI and the local science centers are hubs of this work. This focus on data is crucial for middle school students as it serves as an entry point to engage with climate data and build STEM skills. It's central to what NASA is doing in researching climate change. However, of course science isn't the only pathway for youth engagement in climate. For example, science centers are recognizing the role of art as a powerful connector and hook, and ways that whole family engagement builds understanding and ownership of science, data, and the drivers and impacts of climate change.

Many people, including youth, express their frustration in trying to determine what information in the media is true and valid. What role do science centers play in helping youth to figure this out?

Ali: Science centers are quite comfortable in this role. They're community gathering spaces and trusted sources of information. We're always working across so many of our programs to help people navigate what’s out there and to discern and engage with the information amidst the noise of misinformation.

What do you feel is one of the most important aspects of climate justice that we need to address in the Northeast, and how is LENE trying to address it?

Ali: At LENE, we're focused on raising awareness about these inequities and providing educators with the tools to teach about climate justice. This includes integrating social justice into our curriculum and ensuring that the voices of those most affected are heard and valued in our discussions and actions.

For example, in some of our local programming in the Ithaca Connected Learning Ecosystem, (CLE) we've talked with current researchers looking at the effects of localized flooding and hosted community conversations about its impact on marginalized communities. Climate Justice is also a topic that comes up a lot in the LENE Science and Technology Center’s Community of Practice. Last fall, we were able to hold a retreat in the Adirondacks, and as part of that we all did a train-the-trainer style workshop with Hannah Barg of the Wild Center about inequities of climate impacts and resources. The project team is also investing in network-wide training on anti-racism and accessibility and we’ve recently been exploring equity in informal STEM learning using the equity compass, a great resource from YESTEM Project.

The LENE project also includes leadership by Wabanaki Youth in Science (WaYS), which provides experiential learning opportunities for indigenous youth and is challenging the team to focus on how indigenous ways of knowing and practices can influence the climate conversation. 

What's the most important change you would like to see in the field of climate change education?

Ali: I would like to see a greater emphasis on community and relationship building. We need to move beyond just imparting knowledge to creating networks of support that nurture and sustain both educators and students. This means investing in long-term relationships and fostering environments where people feel connected and supported in their efforts to address climate change. It’s about creating a culture of collaboration and mutual support.

I believe that by focusing on relationships, we can create a more resilient and adaptable approach to climate education. When educators feel supported and connected, they are more likely to stay in the field and continue their important work. This, in turn, benefits students and communities, creating a positive cycle of support and engagement.

What gives you hope, and what are you looking forward to in the future?

Ali: One of the things that keeps me going is seeing the creativity and resilience of the educators and students I work with. They are constantly coming up with new ideas and approaches, and their enthusiasm is contagious. It reminds me that even though the challenges we face are immense, we have the capacity to rise to them.

Do you have a favorite quote that keeps you going?

Ali: Yes, it's a David Sobel quote: "We have to ask children to fall in love with the world before we ask them to save it." It keeps us coming back to the experiential kind of real interactions that kids can have, whether that's with nature or with data about their world, so that they can really understand before they jump in and try to solve problems to make our communities better. It’s about building a deep, emotional connection to the world around them.

Calculating the impact of Liz’s work over the past 30 years boggles the mind. She has helped to develop educational programming for NWF that now includes EcoSchools (a global education for sustainability program with a reach of over 6,000 Pre-K–12 U.S. schools), and she has long pushed the field of environmental education to do more and to do better. Hers is a voice that challenges the status quo—and we and the field are better for it. Although she is incredibly humble and wouldn’t focus on her individual accomplishments, she is fiercely devoted to helping frontline communities and youth through climate education and partnerships.

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Joan Haley: Let’s start off with how you got involved with the Collaborative.

Liz Soper: Even though I now work nationally with NWF, I live in Vermont, so I still have a strong connection and love for this place. I got involved with the Collaborative when it was established in 2018. I remember getting the invite email and thinking, 'This is really cool. This isn’t just for Vermont; this is regional.' I saw it as a great opportunity to network, meet with others, and discuss all the great work being done across the region around climate education and communication.

What got you into environmental education and climate education specifically?

Liz: I studied forestry and wildlife biology at UVM and then worked as a wildlife biologist out west. Although I loved that work, I realized what I enjoyed more, and was better at, was talking to and helping people to understand environmental issues. So I went on to get certified to teach and get a master's in education. My love for the environment and education led me to the Lake Champlain Basin Program. Climate education became really important to me as we started to see more and more impacts of climate around the globe and in Vermont. Working with partners like Shelburne Farms and the US Forest Service, I realized we weren't doing enough education around climate change for K–12 teachers and students. That's what jumpstarted my thinking about better integrating and expanding climate education in our work.

Was there a specific moment that made you realize the importance of focusing on climate?

Liz: It was more gradual. I remember working on a volunteer training program for communities around the Northeast on creating habitat for wildlife called Habitat Stewards, and I thought, why aren't we doing this for climate? That was a turning point, realizing we could have greater impact if we helped to train people in communities to be climate stewards. Every time I look at a program now, I think about how it can better educate people about climate issues and get them to act.

How does climate change education in the Northeast compare to national and global efforts?

Liz: The Northeast is very community-driven. Our states are smaller, and we value collaboration. We see the value in working together to solve issues and achieve bigger impacts. Globally, organizations come together, but regionally, we have strong grassroots collaboration that makes a big difference.

What strategies have you found effective in moving people from awareness to action in climate education?

Liz: The focus should be on supporting frontline communities experiencing the worst climate impacts. These communities often have a history of environmental and other injustices, undermining their capacity to respond to newer threats, such as climate change. Listening to what these communities need, building relationships, supporting their work, and partnering with organizations that have deep roots in these communities is essential for effective and equitable climate action.

How do you foster these relationships and trust with communities?

Liz: Often, it starts with just listening to what communities need most. We conduct focus group sessions and listen to diverse community needs. For example, in Coney Island, we faced initial resistance because the community had long felt dismissed. By genuinely listening and focusing on their priorities, we built a trusting relationship and have been working together on climate resiliency projects for four years now. The important thing is building these relationships around trust, knowing that we will do what our partners need most to support action on the ground. 

How do you see the Collaborative helping to address these issues, and what recommendations do you have for its work?

Liz: At the recent summit, we identified four or five major topics people were discussing. My primary involvement was in addressing collective action. What could this look like? How do we develop a stronger network and take concrete actions on climate education in the region? We need to push that forward. The challenge, as usual, is that after the summit, where you're fully engaged, you return to your regular job, and the momentum fades. I believe that the Collaborative has a role in continuing to drive this forward.

The Collaborative is at a point where we need to think about what is next. I feel we need to push for both a hopeful future and collective action, while at the same time continuing to build a network, share information, and build relationships. It would be great if the Collaborative could use its diverse network to speak to funders and move a collaborative funding opportunity forward. I'd love to see us advance climate education policy, as there isn't enough of that being done across the region.

If the Collaborative didn't exist, it would be more difficult to address these issues regionally. The Collaborative provides an opportunity to push boundaries and enhance impact in this region. There continues to be a need to have a backbone organization that supports this work. Maybe this is best accomplished with shared leadership, but the commitment needs to be sustainable. 

Do you see potential in connecting the NAAEE Affiliate network around climate change education?

Liz: It's been awhile since I was engaged in my Vermont EE network, but I do think most of these groups are already exploring and figuring out how best to lead their members towards stronger collective action around climate issues. They might serve as a ready-made structure to help support the Collaborative. In my mind all environmental education is climate education, so they would be a great place to start for sure. 

What gives you hope and inspires you in your work?

Liz: The youth are a significant source of hope. Their awareness, activism, and demand for climate education and action are incredibly inspiring. They see the future's challenges and are eager to be part of the solution. Providing them with platforms and support to voice their concerns and ideas and to take action is crucial and we owe it to them to do this. 

Finally, do you have a favorite quote that keeps you motivated?

Liz: Yes, a quote by Mary Oliver always resonates with me: 'Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?' It reminds me to make the most of my time and efforts, especially in the face of the immense challenges posed by climate change.

Jim Clifford is the epitome of a changemaker. He has spent his career creating positive changes in education in Connecticut and has, if anything, appeared to ramp up his efforts since he “retired” from the classroom. He has been building a climate education hub in Connecticut with SubjectToClimate. His collaborative work in making climate change education more accessible to teachers is already remarkable. Read on to learn more.

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Joan Haley: Thanks for joining me, Jim. Before we delve deeper, could you briefly share your journey to climate education?

Jim Clifford: I'm relatively new to the climate education field. This is my third career. When I graduated from Georgetown, I taught high school by day and went to law school at night. I went into law initially and was a trial lawyer for 11 years. Eventually it had too much of an impact on my wife and two little girls, so I returned to my first love, which is teaching, and I taught social studies for 27 years before moving into climate education. 

Is there a pivotal moment that drove you to dedicate yourself to climate change education?

Jim: The key moment was when my first grandson, Colby was born. I'm holding this four-day-old baby. Climate change became very real for me. In my hands, I'm holding someone who will be living through 2050, 2070, 2090...and I felt this immense responsibility — and opportunity to do whatever I could.  

What’s an important insight you’ve gained about climate change education as you've worked with students? 

Jim: I’ve always loved working with high school seniors, who have lived through so much, and are about to move on to the next phase of their lives. When I asked them about the environment, their responses were rather subdued and mixed with negativity. So, I shifted my approach. I asked them, "When was the last time you felt a sense of awe, or a sense of wonder?" I was sad that their few memories of awe and wonder were quite distant, dating back to kindergarten or early childhood days spent outdoors. My students had lost their connection with nature.

This insight was my “a-ha moment”, leading me to use language other than "climate change," which can sometimes inhibit conversation. Instead, I brought up the honey bee colonies at our school, which intrigued the students. When we learned that a third of the bees had died off, we brainstormed how we could help them and we created pollinator gardens at our school. Once this connection was made, it reminded me that, "What you love, you'll protect." This approach helps us to cope with, or put into context, the often paralyzing climate projections, and focus instead on what we care about and want to protect.

What are you currently working on to advance this important work in Connecticut?

Jim: There are several things. In 2021, Connecticut began revising its Social Studies standards, so I joined the process and wrote new climate change and environmental literacy content standards for K-12 social studies classes. These standards were adopted in 2023 and that led to an invitation to draft climate and environmental content for the Connecticut Model Social Studies, which is ongoing. While doing this work, I learned of SubjectToClimate, a nonprofit online connector for K-12+ educators of all subjects, which provides credible and engaging climate change materials at no cost. They began building individual climate hubs in several states so I invited them to build one in Connecticut. We are guided by an advisory committee with representatives from over 30 Connecticut schools, universities, environmental organizations, and five students. We are now assembling Connecticut-specific resources and will be training teachers how to use them when we launch the “CTClimateHub.org” later this year. 

What do you feel is one of the most important aspects of climate justice that we need to address in the Northeast and how are you trying to address it?

Jim: I would say "environmental justice" because it resonates with students, because they care about fairness and a healthy environment. I learned so much about environmental justice when I ran a summer program for urban and suburban high school students, called Exploring Justice. It integrated my experiences in law, teaching, and working with young people. 

My current work with SubjectToClimate also helps to promote environmental justice, particularly by featuring young climate activists who are on the frontlines of climate change. I’m also an officer with the Connecticut Outdoor and Environmental Education Association (COEEA), working with schools in overburdened and under-resourced areas. COEEA is taking a prominent role with the CT Climate Hub, with SubjectToClimate and other like-minded organizations, like the Cooperative Educational Services, which specializes in training Connecticut teachers particularly in underserved communities.  

Looking forward, what changes do you hope to see in the field of climate education?

Jim: I hope to see more Adult Education. We're making great headway in climate change education, and environmental literacy with the younger people. But I feel that if we're going to accelerate our efforts, we need to get older people involved too.

What gives you hope for the future regarding climate change?

Jim: There are a number of things. One is, I have a new understanding of the word “hope,” which I learned by reading Joanna Macy's book, Active Hope. Hope, for me, is more than a feeling or an emotion. It does not need to be based on what’s happening in the outside world. It's more of a mindset that is empowering, and inwardly motivating. It enables one to take intentional action that is designed to achieve a hopeful outcome. Active hope prepares me that I may not see the fruits of that labor now and focuses me on what I can today to make a difference. I am also energized and inspired by working with young people. Their energy and enthusiasm recharges me when I need it. I'm also incredibly motivated every day by my love for family, particularly, my children and grandchildren. 

I also feel hope from my experiences as a history teacher for so long. I have a broader perspective of time than most people. I know that we're facing some major challenges, but we have faced other challenges in the past and we can learn from those successes and setbacks.

Before we conclude, Jim, could you share a favorite saying or mantra that keeps you motivated?

Jim: My favorite saying or maxim is “The answer is always 'No' until you ask, or until you try.” I learned this when working on a high school fundraiser when I asked the principal if the police department would donate the services of a police officer to limit our costs. The principal said, "If you haven’t asked yet, then the answer is 'No.' But it has a great chance to become a 'Yes!' if, and only if, you ask." This advice has stayed with me for nearly 40 years and emboldened me to act.

We're excited to share Debbie Archer at Audubon Vermont’s frontline practitioner perspective, highlighting some of the real-life challenges and rewards of doing this work. Growing up in a military family, Debbie moved around the country throughout her childhood. But, as a fourth-grader, she made a declaration that she would live in Vermont when she grew up. Many years later she is very happily putting down roots here in Vermont and working for Audubon. Debbie joined the education team in 2015 with a Master of Science in Environmental Science from Indiana University's School of Public and Environmental Affairs. She gained experience in outdoor education working as an educator, naturalist, and camp program manager at environmental education camps in Alaska and California. She lives in Montpelier where she continues to be excited to see and experience all that Vermont has to offer during each of its seasons.  

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Joan Haley: Tell us a little bit about yourself and Audubon Vermont.

Debbie Archer: I am the Education Manager at Audubon Vermont. Our mission is to protect birds and the places they need today and tomorrow through conservation and educational programming for folks of all ages. Here in Vermont, our education programs are very much embedded in this place. We're fortunate to have the Green Mountain Audubon Center in Huntington. It's a lovely site because it features some unique habitat types and is part of a larger corridor of forest and wildlands. This gives us a place where the conservation work that we do at Audubon, and even the policy work, can be in concert with the educational opportunities we provide, which sets us up really nicely to also do some climate change education.

How have your strategies and beliefs about climate change education shifted?

Debbie: Teachers bring their kids here for two hours, and that might be the only time we spend with those kids until their teacher signs them up to come for a field trip here next year. We had been in a place where we said, okay, do we explain to kids when they get here what climate change is? That can take up a huge portion of the program and they might be here to learn about salamanders.  So we try to integrate it throughout, when relevant. We also see a lot of really young children, which means we have lots of conversations about what climate change education looks like at the early ed level.

How else has your programming shifted to include climate change education?

Debbie:  We’ve learned that climate change education works better when we have programs with repeat kids. In our forest classroom program, those kids are here for an entire day, one day a week. So there's just so much more space to be able to talk about, for example, the “heat trapping blanket” effect. You can introduce it one day, and then you can come back to it to explore in more depth at a later time. Whereas just the one-time field trip model feels pretty restrictive when trying to do something as meaningful as climate change education.

Tell me what partnerships you rely on and why they might be important.

Debbie: Schools are our most important partners, absolutely. We partner with other youth-serving organizations too. Vermont is a small place, so with a number of nature centers and outdoor ed serving organizations here, it could be a very competitive environment.  We live in a tiny place with 600,000 people. You can throw a rock and hit someone who works in conservation. And we know that. So let's not compete. Let’s work together. For example, we meet with folks at the North Branch Nature Center just to talk and ask,” how do you do this? How do you do that?” There’s a real culture of collaboration in Vermont and we feel lucky to have such great partnerships. The Collaborative has absolutely reinforced this ethos in me as well.

What do you feel is one of the most important aspects of climate justice that we need to address in the Northeast?

Debbie: This is a hard one. Because when I think about climate justice, and I'm thinking about Audubon as a whole, too…It really is, it's about being in community with people and in their community. They know their issues and we need to support them by listening to them and not just assuming to know what their community needs. Letting them take the lead and being a supportive partner that might have resources and expertise to support the community’s effort for a cleaner/safer/more resilient environment.

What is an important lesson you've learned about moving people from awareness to action when it comes to engaging local climate change mitigation?

Debbie: There is a diagram in my head from a paper, I think, that moves from appreciation of nature, to understanding, to action. It is so deeply ingrained in how I’ve thought about environmental education. But recently, I came across something that pushed back, saying just because you enjoy and know about nature, and you are in it and appreciate it, does not mean you're gonna do anything on the action front. I’ve really been ruminating on that.

What gives you hope or has been inspiring lately?

Debbie: What gives me hope is that I don't necessarily feel that young people have given up. It's a daunting challenge what they are faced with and yet, an impending sense of doom and gloom is not the only thing I get from young people. I don't think that young people feel entirely that way, and that to me gives me hope and is amazing. Maybe we’ve gotten better at giving teens more autonomy, and letting them take initiative. If we say, yes, go for it!  I see the impacts of that in them—they're like, “heck, yeah, I can do this! We can take action, we can protest, and we can help solve climate change.”

What's your favorite saying or quote to keep you going during trying times?

Debbie: I have this quote from Marjorie Stoneman Douglas. She says, “It's a woman's business to be interested in the environment.” That one's on my wall behind me. She later says it's an extended form of housekeeping, and I choose not to take offense to that. She was born in 1890. The quote specifically calls women to the conservation field that has left many people that are not white, Cis, men out. The fact that she then goes on to say "it's an extended form of housekeeping;" I like to imagine oh, that's “women's work.” Heck, yeah! Taking care of the environment as “women's work” is a little bit like reclaiming the patriarchy. Yeah, this is our field. And we have to be part of the solution and it's not gonna get better without us.

An interview with Collaborative member Jen Kretser illustrates why the Wild Center was just nominated as a "Best Science Museum" in USA TODAY's Readers' Choice Awards. 

Jen is the Director of Climate Initiatives at The Wild Center in the northern Adirondack Mountains in NYS. She has worked at The Wild Center for the last 15 years managing and supporting interpretive and education programming as well as community partnerships.  Jen’s primary work is managing the nationally and globally recognized Youth Climate Program which recently participated at the UN COP 26 conference in Glasgow as a delegation as well as UN COP 21 in Paris. Jen founded The Wild Center’s Youth Climate Program in 2009 with the first Adirondack Youth Climate Summit. Since then the program has grown around the world with over 170 youth climate summits in 9 countries and 25 states. 

Delve into the insights of a trailblazer in climate education in this conversation between Collaborative facilitator Joan Haley and Jen.

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Joan: Your work at The Wild Center over the past 16 years has become a gold standard for climate change education work. Your ample experience facilitating youth climate summits, the creation of the youth climate summit toolkit, and your climate solutions exhibits are all helping to lead and support climate change education in the U.S. and around the world. What sparked the idea for the Youth Climate Summits and how have they evolved?

Jen: It all started when a student, after attending an adult conference, emailed me in the middle of the night saying, ‘Hey Jen, that was awesome. But everybody there was really old... Can we do a Youth Climate Summit?’ I immediately said yes...That’s how we started the first Adirondack Youth Climate Summit in November 2009.

Since then you’ve had 13 Adirondack Youth Climate Summits and inspired 170 throughout the world. How significant are partnerships in your climate action work?

Jen: Partnerships are crucial...The most powerful partnerships often happen with the least likely partners...like our unexpected yet pivotal collaboration with the New York State Office of Climate Change, who initially were hesitant but now see us as an essential partner.

In what ways do you ensure climate justice and equity are central to your programs?

Jen: We’ve shifted our focus to prioritize justice and equity...It’s about embedding these elements deeply into our work, not just tokenizing them. It means sharing diverse perspectives, ensuring our speakers and programs reflect the audience, and really focusing on that intersectionality with equity and justice. We cannot have climate solutions without climate justice.

When it comes to collaborating on a project, for example, how do you move toward greater power sharing? 

Jen: In an ideal world, it's the co-creation of the project or initiative proposal, the narrative, and the budget together. It's a sensitive issue because if you're the granting organization holding the money, you already have power. There's no one-size-fits-all approach. With our first funding opportunity, it was in consultation, but we had to readjust later on. We realized the scope was bigger than our budget. We also had an internship program involving Mohawk interns, and we had to rethink that too. It was a learning experience, but we had help rethinking and being more expansive. It's about deconstructing our initial ideas and co-creating something. It took humility and a steep learning curve. But now, one of our former interns is the museum coordinator of the Akwesasne Cultural Center, another is doing a residency in New Mexico, and some are working as consultants for other museums. We've maintained close relationships, both personally and professionally, even though the project officially ended three years ago. Building these relationships is crucial.

Looking ahead, what are your aspirations for the field of climate education?

Jen: I’d love to see more collective fundraising and action...Imagine if organizations came together for a common goal, like funding Youth Climate Summits across regions, instead of competing for the same resources.

Finally, what personal philosophy or quote inspires you in your work?

Jen: A quote by Maya Angelou inspires me daily: ‘Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.’ It reminds me that it’s okay to make mistakes, but crucial to learn and improve from them.