I was raised by the river. From the time I could walk, I was learning the names of birds and trees, how to navigate currents, how to gather respectfully, how to listen to the heartbeat of the land and water. I have been a water protector and conservation activist since childhood. Where I come from, the land is not a resource, and the water is not a commodity. We are taught that the earth is our mother, the sky is our father, and everything in between is our relatives, that every single thing is worthy of respect because of this sacred relationship. As an Indigenous queer woman, my identity is deeply rooted in the land and the communities I serve. I'm currently in my final two quarters of a DTA associate degree, preparing to transfer into a dual bachelor’s program at Evergreen State College to earn two Bachelor's degrees in oceanography and native studies. This path reflects both my cultural values and my scientific passion. I chose this field because I see science as a tool for healing, not just for the Earth, but for our communities. As a child, I watched my family and tribal members fight for clean water, protect sacred sites, and defend endangered species. My dad and uncles participated in fish-ins that led to the landmark Boldt Decision, ensuring tribal fishing rights. I went to my first water rights protest when I was 9. Those early experiences shaped my understanding of environmental justice. Today, I bring that same passion into my academic work, activism, and career goals. I believe the future of STEM must be collaborative and decolonized. For too long, Indigenous knowledge has been pushed to the margins of science, even though our communities have stewarded these lands since time immemorial. I want to change that. I aim to be a bridge between Western science and traditional ecological knowledge, showing that both systems have value and strength, especially when it comes to addressing the climate crisis. We need more voices in the room, more people who see the Earth not as property, but as kin. I want to focus on ocean research related to climate change and ocean acidification, impacts of that on food webs in the Salish Sea and the Northern Pacific. I have spent my life on these waters and shores. I have borne witness to the decline in it’s health since my childhood. Each year, the beaches get dirtier, the water gets warmer, the fish come less and less. I intend on combining ITECK (Indigenous, Traditional, Ecological & Cultural Knowledge) with Western sciences to forge a way forward to help the water heal. To protect the same water my ancestors have protected since time immemorial. As a first-generation student returning to school for a fresh start after a previous career in healthcare, I understand what it means to overcome obstacles. I’ve balanced full-time work, single parenthood, two years of homelessness, injuries, health struggles & activism while pursuing my education. Every step has been driven by the belief that this work matters. That our waters deserve protection, our salmon deserve to return, our knowledge deserves recognition. My ambition is rooted in ancestral wisdom. My drive comes from witnessing environmental loss and cultural erasure. And my impact, I hope, will be felt not only in policy or restoration projects, but in the empowerment of Indigenous communities to lead. In this era of environmental urgency, we need scientists who see with both heart and mind, who carry data in one hand and ceremony in the other. That is the kind of scientist I am becoming.

I was raised by the river. From the time I could walk, I was learning the names of birds and trees, how to navigate currents, how to gather respectfully, how to listen to the heartbeat of the land and water. I have been a water protector and conservation activist since childhood. Where I come from, the land is not a resource, and the water is not a commodity. We are taught that the earth is our mother, the sky is our father, and everything in between is our relatives, that every single thing is worthy of respect because of this sacred relationship. As an Indigenous queer woman, my identity is deeply rooted in the land and the communities I serve. I'm currently in my final two quarters of a DTA associate degree, preparing to transfer into a dual bachelor’s program at Evergreen State College to earn two Bachelor's degrees in oceanography and native studies. This path reflects both my cultural values and my scientific passion. I chose this field because I see science as a tool for healing, not just for the Earth, but for our communities. As a child, I watched my family and tribal members fight for clean water, protect sacred sites, and defend endangered species. My dad and uncles participated in fish-ins that led to the landmark Boldt Decision, ensuring tribal fishing rights. I went to my first water rights protest when I was 9. Those early experiences shaped my understanding of environmental justice. Today, I bring that same passion into my academic work, activism, and career goals. I believe the future of STEM must be collaborative and decolonized. For too long, Indigenous knowledge has been pushed to the margins of science, even though our communities have stewarded these lands since time immemorial. I want to change that. I aim to be a bridge between Western science and traditional ecological knowledge, showing that both systems have value and strength, especially when it comes to addressing the climate crisis. We need more voices in the room, more people who see the Earth not as property, but as kin. I want to focus on ocean research related to climate change and ocean acidification, impacts of that on food webs in the Salish Sea and the Northern Pacific. I have spent my life on these waters and shores. I have borne witness to the decline in it’s health since my childhood. Each year, the beaches get dirtier, the water gets warmer, the fish come less and less. I intend on combining ITECK (Indigenous, Traditional, Ecological & Cultural Knowledge) with Western sciences to forge a way forward to help the water heal. To protect the same water my ancestors have protected since time immemorial. As a first-generation student returning to school at 32 for a fresh start, I understand what it means to overcome obstacles. I’ve balanced full-time work, single parenthood, two years of homelessness, injuries, health struggles & activism while pursuing my education. Every step has been driven by the belief that this work matters. That our waters deserve protection, our salmon deserve to return, our knowledge deserves recognition. My ambition is rooted in ancestral wisdom. My drive comes from witnessing environmental loss and cultural erasure. And my impact, I hope, will be felt not only in policy or restoration projects, but in the empowerment of Indigenous communities to lead. In this era of environmental urgency, we need scientists who see with both heart and mind, who carry data in one hand and ceremony in the other. That is the kind of scientist I am becoming.

I was raised by the river. From the time I could walk, I was learning the names of birds and trees, how to navigate currents, how to gather respectfully, how to listen to the heartbeat of the land and water. I have been a water protector and conservation activist since childhood. Where I come from, the land is not a resource, and the water is not a commodity. We are taught that the earth is our mother, the sky is our father, and everything in between is our relatives, that every single thing is worthy of respect because of this sacred relationship. As an Indigenous queer woman, my identity is deeply rooted in the land and the communities I serve. I'm currently in my final two quarters of a DTA associate degree, preparing to transfer into a dual bachelor’s program at Evergreen State College to earn two Bachelor's degrees in oceanography and native studies. This path reflects both my cultural values and my scientific passion. I chose this field because I see science as a tool for healing, not just for the Earth, but for our communities. As a child, I watched my family and tribal members fight for clean water, protect sacred sites, and defend endangered species. My dad and uncles participated in fish-ins that led to the landmark Boldt Decision, ensuring tribal fishing rights. I went to my first water rights protest when I was 9. Those early experiences shaped my understanding of environmental justice. Today, I bring that same passion into my academic work, activism, and career goals. I believe the future of STEM must be collaborative and decolonized. For too long, Indigenous knowledge has been pushed to the margins of science, even though our communities have stewarded these lands since time immemorial. I want to change that. I aim to be a bridge between Western science and traditional ecological knowledge, showing that both systems have value and strength, especially when it comes to addressing the climate crisis. We need more voices in the room, more people who see the Earth not as property, but as kin. I want to focus on ocean research related to climate change and ocean acidification, impacts of that on food webs in the Salish Sea and the Northern Pacific. I have spent my life on these waters and shores. I have borne witness to the decline in it’s health since my childhood. Each year, the beaches get dirtier, the water gets warmer, the fish come less and less. I intend on combining ITECK (Indigenous, Traditional, Ecological & Cultural Knowledge) with Western sciences to forge a way forward to help the water heal. To protect the same water my ancestors have protected since time immemorial. As a first-generation student returning to school for a fresh start after a previous career in healthcare, I understand what it means to overcome obstacles. I’ve balanced full-time work, single parenthood, two years of homelessness, injuries, health struggles & activism while pursuing my education. Every step has been driven by the belief that this work matters. That our waters deserve protection, our salmon deserve to return, our knowledge deserves recognition. My ambition is rooted in ancestral wisdom. My drive comes from witnessing environmental loss and cultural erasure. And my impact, I hope, will be felt not only in policy or restoration projects, but in the empowerment of Indigenous communities to lead. In this era of environmental urgency, we need scientists who see with both heart and mind, who carry data in one hand and ceremony in the other. That is the kind of scientist I am becoming.

I was raised by the river. From the time I could walk, I was learning the names of birds and trees, how to navigate currents, how to gather respectfully, how to listen to the heartbeat of the land and water. I have been a water protector and conservation activist since childhood—not because it was trendy, but because it was necessary. Where I come from, the land is not a resource, and the water is not a commodity. We are taught that the earth is our mother, the sky is our father, and everything in between is our relatives, that every single thing is worthy of respect because of this sacred relationship. As an Indigenous queer woman, my identity is deeply rooted in the land and the communities I serve. I'm currently in my final two quarters of a DTA associate degree, preparing to transfer into a dual bachelor’s program at Evergreen State College to earn a Bachelor's of Biology in Land and Resource Management and a Bachelor's of Arts in Native Studies. This path reflects both my cultural values and my scientific passion. I plan to work in environmental science and conservation for the Washington state tribes, focusing on salmon recovery, dam removal, and the restoration of ecosystems impacted by colonization and climate change. I chose this field because I see science as a tool for healing, not just for the Earth, but for our communities. As a child, I watched my family and tribal members fight for clean water, protect sacred sites, and defend endangered species. My dad and uncles participated in fish-ins that led to the landmark Boldt Decision, ensuring tribal fishing rights. I went to my first water rights protest when I was 9. Those early experiences shaped my understanding of environmental justice. Today, I bring that same passion into my academic work, activism, and career goals. I believe the future of STEM must be collaborative and decolonized. For too long, Indigenous knowledge has been pushed to the margins of science, even though our communities have stewarded these lands since time immemorial. I want to change that. I aim to be a bridge between Western science and traditional ecological knowledge, showing that both systems have value and strength, especially when it comes to addressing the climate crisis. I also hope to use my work to inspire the next generation of Indigenous scientists. We need more voices in the room—more people who see the Earth not as property, but as kin. I want to help create spaces where Native youth can study biology and environmental science without having to compromise their identity or cultural teachings. I want them to know they belong in labs, in policy meetings, and in leadership. As a first-generation student returning to school after a previous career in healthcare, I understand what it means to overcome obstacles. I’ve balanced full-time work, single parenthood, two years of homelessness, injuries, health struggles, and activism while pursuing my education. Every step has been driven by the belief that this work matters—that our waters deserve protection, our salmon deserve to return, and our knowledge deserves recognition. My ambition is rooted in ancestral wisdom. My drive comes from witnessing environmental loss and cultural erasure. And my impact, I hope, will be felt not only in policy or restoration projects, but in the empowerment of Indigenous communities to lead. In this era of environmental urgency, we need scientists who see with both heart and mind—who carry data in one hand and ceremony in the other. That is the kind of scientist I am becoming.