My mother told me I wouldn't have to do chores if I was reading a book. My father told me to spend as many nights under the stars in a year as possible. Doubly encouraged, I spent and still spend most of my waking hours observing, researching, writing and reading about the natural worId. When I close my books, I am camping, mountain running, rafting, hiking, birdwatching, or skiing. At the end of the day, I have a desire to “share my learnings with other humans” and explain my observations scientifically. To this end, my environmental radio talk show has complemented and highlighted my self-imposed endeavor to learn something new, always. I produce and host a local radio show "Voices of the Valley Floor-a and Fauna". This show has aired on KOTO Radio since my freshman year of high school in 2014. It is a "nature almanac" exploring natural history intrigues of the indigenous flora and fauna. Guest biologists are often invited to share their knowledge and add integrity and interest. Topics are based on seasonal relevance of ecological phenomena, sightings of interesting wildlife or plant species and discussions of climate-related pressures on wildlife. I've covered a wide array of content from the ability of song birds to keep warm in sub-zero temperatures, to the importance of pollinator plants and their pollinating host species, to the relocation of wolves to Colorado's San Juan Mountains, to the fascinating physiology of hibernating bears. The intent of the show is to instill an appreciation of the biodiversity found in the surrounding habitats, to encourage residents and visitors to take time to "tune in" to the fragile mountain ecosystem of the Valley Floor, and to promote the torch of science and reason. The show has been such a success that I have plans to expand it to the Dartmouth radio station and cover the local flora and fauna there. As an added bonus, it is a wonderful way for me to exchange and connect the natural histories of my college town and my hometown. The radio show is heard by San Miguel County residents and the entire area covered by the reach of KOTO broadcasts (8400watts). The broadcasts are not archived and this led me to learn a new skill of building a podcast site. Podcasting shows will enable me to garner wider coverage and keep teaching others about our fascinating planet via my popular podcasts. Many people from this community, and elsewhere in the state and country have asked to re-listen to my shows, or to have a copy to a link. KOTO radio cannot archive the shows due to time and monetary constraints. I researched archiving shows as podcasts and storage space demands a monthly fee of about $20. If I were awarded this grant it would enable me to store them indefinitely (I plan to make this a lifetime endeavor). I would also be able to give Bold.Org and any the pertinent benefactors "airtime" recognition and thanks on each show!

Act locally, think globally is my modus operandi. I participated in local volunteerism throughout my young life, and I’ve witnessed the profound change among my peers and community members that small-scale activism brings about. I believe in the notion of incremental action, and I will always hold that public engagement is a state of mind. From this awareness, my passion for local community service grows. I’ve been a lifelong observer — I always closely watched the ants in my backyard and the chickadees that alighted outside my window. I also began to notice a startling lack of native plant diversity in my town’s open space. I immediately took action. I petitioned the Open Space Commission and the Town Council to create a native revegetation plot. I consulted a National Park Service botanist for native grass and forb seed mixes specific to the subalpine biome. I’ve maintained and expanded the plot for six years, and I have successfully established thirty new plant species within the space. This summer, I implemented two more of these “pollinator islands'' that encourage native plant diversity and crucial native pollinator diversity. From these islands, native species will radiate outwards, and pollinators will have a reliable habitat area from which to proliferate. In some ways, this effort is metaphoric of my greater ideology of “islands of influence,” seeds of change scattered throughout the community, nation, or world, extending their influence. Other influential local efforts include my work on a local radio show, where I broadcast biologically-intriguing shows for the community. Every month, I choose a new topic, whether it be aspen trees, moose, or bird migration, and write a 15-20 minute show on the topic. Oftentimes, I’ll invite local expert biologists to share their knowledge. I’ve received emails, texts, and verbal thank-yous from community members who heard my show on their way to work or school and tell me they learned something novel and fascinating about southwestern Colorado’s flora and fauna. It gives me great satisfaction to provide my community with playful, informative shows and increase engagement in our unique natural world. Another example of local community efforts is my work to bring K-12 students into my high school’s idle greenhouse. I founded a program called “Brownies to Broccoli,” revolving around the motto Eat a Rainbow, which meant rainbow goldfish to most kids. However, throughout the course of a class, the importance of this “rainbow” — consuming a variety of colorful fruits and vegetables to maximize nutrient intakes — was emphasized. Grades preschool-12th attended Grow Dome classes, and along with two of my peers, we directed students through planting, harvesting, and watering. Younger students completed a brochure that listed various pigments and their health benefits, such as beta-carotene and its assistance in eyesight. I was continually honored to witness firsthand the transformation that occurred in the living classroom. Students exclaimed: “I didn’t know carrots grow in the dirt!” and “Eggplant grows on a bush?”. I guided students in sampling a smattering of herbs, fruits, and vegetables that they had plucked, cut, or dug up. Children readily tried any harvest and exhibited great relish as they munched raw kale leaves, or a sun-ripe tomato tugged off the vine. Vegetables that looked vastly unappetizing in the context of a supermarket-plastic container suddenly became appealing. In all sincerity, every class that left the Grow Dome did so with an eagerness to sample more fresh vegetables, tell their parents about eating a rainbow, or return and marvel at the lettuce's growth planted from seed. The harvests collected from the greenhouse went to one of four places: back to the classroom, to district teachers, to the cafeteria’s salad bar, or families in the community lacking in financial resources, and thus, fresh fruits and vegetables. A local family actually adopted a plant-based diet, entirely inspired by our “Eat a Rainbow’ presentation, and they still thank me for their improved health. This program highlights the power of thinking and acting locally. Wherever I go, I actively notice the problems that need solving and try to devise a solution. I am a constant thinker. I hope that through the entirety of my life, I’ll continue to address the issues in my community and to engage those around me in important, tangible ways. I never sit idle, and I constantly strive to improve myself and the world. As such, I hope to graduate from Dartmouth College with a double major in Government and Environmental Studies and use my education to enter local or state government. I understand the power of community mobilization acutely. If I can bring that knowledge and experience to the decisionmaker's realm, I believe I can catalyze change on a highly impactful, broad scale. After all, change begins at the grassroots level — I have my roots, and now it is my duty to grow and expand upwards into larger spheres of positive influence.

Elizabeth Kolbert’s book “The Sixth Extinction” shattered my high school freshman reality. The heartbreaking epidemiology of a chytrid fungus that led to the collapse of South American amphibians hasn’t left my conscience since. I was utterly stunned by Kolbert’s elucidation of global biodiversity loss — every day, 150 species go extinct. Six years have passed since I read Kolbert’s devastating book, and the biodiversity tragedy has only worsened. Species continue to plummet worldwide. This year, in particular, I’ve been forced to reckon with the dual climate and biodiversity crises acutely. Early in 2020, society was made painfully aware of the consequences of habitat destruction and the extinction crisis when a novel coronavirus emerged from a wet market. The zoonotic transmission of COVID-19 is the latest example of how pathogens migrate from animals to humans with increasing frequency and deadly consequences. As David Quammen writes: "you go into a forest, and you shake the trees — literally and figuratively — and viruses fall out." These facts should serve as a wake-up call to society. Preventing disease and the societal and economic devastation resulting from outbreaks can and must be reduced by slowing or ceasing the unsustainable consumption of products from known disease “hotspot” areas and preserving high-biodiversity regions. Conserving biodiversity is no longer a matter of empathy and morals; it is essential to human survival. While I’ve always been keenly aware of the dire threat that biodiversity decline poses — I’ve worked with the declining Gunnison’s Prairie Dog and Spectacled Eider — I was never made so aware of the graveness of species collapse until this year. While hiking this September, I experienced a biological apocalypse. Dead insectivorous birds littered the trail — swallows, warblers, and flycatchers — still warm, some huddled in groups, others were strewn every few meters. Birds were falling out of the sky. My ornithologist friends reported similar horror stories in western Colorado. The phenomenon was reported across the Southwest — millions of birds are dying, and avian corpses litter streets and trails. According to scientists, a combination of long-term insect population decline, record-breaking wildfires, and an unprecedented early drop in temperatures throughout the Southwest contributed to the mass starvation and dieoff of millions of migratory birds. After this profoundly saddening hike, the U.N. Convention on Biological Diversity released a report declaring that participating countries met none of the 20 Aichi Biodiversity Targets in 2020. The Aichi Targets, devised in 2010, include the cessation of subsidies harmful to biodiversity and reducing habitat destruction by at least a half. None of the 168 countries involved in the agreement fully met a biodiversity goal during the last decade. The World Wildlife Fund then released a report estimating that global wildlife populations decreased by 68 percent between 1970 and 2016. The period from 2010-2020 was considered critical for slowing biodiversity loss, and we catastrophically failed to address the issue globally. This gave me the impetus to realize that biodiversity protection is imperative on the national and international level to avert widespread disaster, and the next decade is vital. If we fail to reduce deforestation, the wildlife trade, the spread of invasive species, overfishing, and destructive agricultural practices, species will collapse globally. We will be less able to rely upon genetic variation for technologies and critical medical discoveries. We will be at risk of food insecurity, and we will lose the sense of individual wellbeing that biodiversity provides. I’ve started on my own activism track, beginning at the local level. I noticed a startling lack of native plant diversity in my town’s open space. I immediately took action. I petitioned the Open Space Commission and the Town Council to create a native revegetation plot. I consulted a National Park Service botanist for native grass and forb seed mixes specific to our biome. I’ve maintained and expanded the plot for six years, and I’ve successfully established thirty new plant species within the plot. This summer, I implemented two more of these “pollinator islands” that encourage native plant diversity and crucial native pollinator diversity. I’m also a Colorado shortgrass prairie land trust member — the Southern Plains Land Trust (SPLT) — which sells carbon credits through a new pilot program. The co-benefits of this program include, of course, carbon sequestration and funding for SPLT to purchase more land, but also the protection of habitat for native species like bison, black-footed ferrets, and antelope. This program’s stunning success in preserving the shortgrass prairie biome gives me hope that individuals, businesses, and governments can collaborate to find mutually-beneficial solutions that stem biodiversity loss. Biodiversity has a profound, personal importance to me. I’ve been a lifelong observer — I always closely watch the ants in my backyard and the chickadees that alight outside my window. I’m watching biodiversity decline before my very eyes, and I have a deep-seated notion of the impending doom that species face in the next decade. Thus, it is my modus operandi to dedicate my energies to the conservation of the planet’s flora and fauna. After all, the root of the word “crisis” comes from the Greek word 'krisis' — a “decisive moment.” We are now in a decisive moment, and I hope to engage on the governmental level and make the right decisions for earth’s species. I yearn to learn the craft of designing and passing regulations beneficial to endangered wildlife species — trade bans, the placement of critical habitat into permanent reserves, the creation of wildlife corridors, and the designation of no-take zones in the ocean. I want to see issues from the perspective of the decision-maker and understand what must be balanced by regulators to protect species. I strive to work alongside teams that address endangered species prospectively instead of reactively. Proper policy design and implementation can stave off biodiversity loss. I am enlivened by the prospect of working at the forefront of conservation policy, the next major front in my life.

This year, society realized that climate change would not stop for a global crisis like COVID-19. The pandemic underlined humanity’s desperate need to cut emissions and achieve carbon neutrality by 2050 — the period from 2016-2020 is slated to be the warmest five years on record. The world is not on track to remain below Paris Agreement goals. As a young person deeply concerned about my future and my children’s future, it’s my utter motivation to solve the climate crisis and dedicate my career to meeting internationally-devised environmental targets. Specifically, I’m incredibly optimistic about the potential of carbon markets and am already working on this front to stem the climate crisis. I’m a junior board member of a nonprofit called Southern Plains Land Trust (SPLT). SPLT’s acreage, located on eastern Colorado’s shortgrass prairie, is ecologically rich and wildly unique. Still, the land is undervalued and doesn't attract many defenders — cropland and energy development devour this biome. SPLT is at the exciting forefront of a market-based solution to this conservation conundrum. SPLT, along with the Environmental Defense Fund (EDF), uses conservation finance to protect prairie land, primarily through carbon credits. More than one-third of U.S. lands are grasslands — an enormous carbon repository. Tilled soils emit 50-70 percent more carbon than untilled soils. When SPLT buys land from ranchers, the conversion of shortgrass prairie to cropland is off the table. To determine the value of carbon credits, EDF uses biogeochemical modeling and emissions factors to quantify the amount of carbon that would be released from the ground if farmers tilled it. Microsoft was one of the first companies to buy these grassland credits from SPLT; other companies participating include Stonyfield and Burton. SPLT sells around 15,000 tons of carbon per year. The co-benefits of this program include, of course, carbon sequestration and funding for SPLT to buy more land, but also the protection of habitat for bison, black-footed ferrets, and antelope. The Grasslands Project Protocol is not only a viable climate solution; it is also "charismatic to buyers.” Added benefits include wildlife protection and improved water quality; another plus is corporate social responsibility. SPLT served as the pilot for this new grassland protocol program. They demonstrated that it could generate revenue for landowners and provide proof of interest in the market by selling credits. EDF worked to decrease transaction and verification costs, ultimately incentivizing markets to reward farmers for conservation. This pilot project will be instrumental in the context of existing programs such as California's cap-and-trade protocol, which includes a carbon offset component. SPLT is currently engaged in the forward sale of years' worth of credits, and carbon payments help SPLT buy more land to sequester more carbon! I have a great conviction that carbon markets can simultaneously contribute to conservation and help slow the decline of biodiversity while slowing climate change. I watch a herd of 90 bison graze native grasses and feel heartened by the potential for novel ingenuity and innovation to combat the climate crisis.