Re-Introductions and Research Update

Photo by Michael Brinton on Savary Island (Tla’amin territory, I’Hos)

I want to re-introduce myself and my research. Mostly because, after 2-and-some-years, I’m finally starting to be able to articulate what my whole PhD thing is about. And I’m *super* excited.

So hi 👋

I’m Lauren. I’m a human aiming to bring my whole self (and the vulnerability that comes with that) to science outreach, life-in-general, and social media platforms. I’m a conservation scientist, adventure enthusiast, and Ph.D. candidate at the University of Victoria (in British Columbia, Canada) - and I believe in and want to work toward a world of multi-cultural, multi-species flourishing.

My early research experiences around the globe exposed me to the complexities of interrelated social and ecological systems (and all science still has to learn), and motivated me to delve into conservation science that upholds local and Indigenous knowledge and human rights. My M.Sc. work allowed me the opportunity to work as part of an Indigenous-led research project tracking change in marine species through multiple knowledge systems.

As a PhD student, I’ve had the massive challenge and super adventure of expanding what I learned and building it into what will be a five(!) year project. Basically - all of my PhD work focuses on conflicts surrounding conservation (or “conservation conflict”). I’m analyzing these conflicts (and seeking solutions) across scales and knowledge types in Canada.

My PhD research looks into conflict that occurs at the policy level (between Indigenous knowledge and Canadian Environmental Policy), between people in B.C. regarding how to manage endangered wildlife, and between humans and black bears in coastal B.C. This diversity of case studies means I get to rely on a ton of diverse scholarship and disciplines - social psychology, ecology, social-ecological systems theory (to name a few) - and hopefully walk away with new insights into conflict and how to transform it.

I’m SO STOKED for forthcoming data collections and this (Spring’s!) field season.

A Conservation Scientist in the Anthropocene

Two weeks ago, I sat quietly in evening golden-hour sunshine on a cedar-wood bench, staring contemplatively out at a golden sand beach and working through a plate of vegetarian lasagna. Out of the corner of my vision, I caught sight of a blurry brown figure dashing across the shore; a yearling grizzly bear (Ursus arctos) was making haste across the beach to escape an angry interaction with an older male bear, his rapid gait sending white flurries of shorebirds into flight.

The moment was one of those remarkable, albeit clichéd, instants that suspend your breath. In the unusually warm October sun, surrounded by friends, eating warm homemade food, physically tired after a day of hard work, and watching the spectacle of a young grizzly dash across a beach, I was filled with the utmost gratitude to be a Conservation Scientist lucky enough to be hosted by the Hailzaqv (Heiltsuk) Nation at Koeye Camp, a place where youth come to learn about culture, the land, and science (among other things).

Sunny views from my vantage at Koeye Camp.

Yesterday, I thought back to those experiences at Koeye. After hastily-consumed-espresso-number-two and between reading academic articles in the ACS Lab, I poured over the media summaries of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change’s (IPCC) most recent report.  For those who may have missed it, the report outlines the varied and severe consequences that face global ecosystems, and consequently humanity, should we continue on our rapid collective path forward towards 1.5- or 2-degree Celcius temperature increases. My head spun as I considered the implications for the ecosystems and social systems – or otherwise the species, friends, colleagues, and everyone who calls The Great Bear Rainforest (and the rest of this world) home.

Such, perhaps, is the life of a Conservation Scientist in the Anthropocene. We are granted the joy and responsibility of having one foot in the field, and one foot in the office, eyes partially trained on the narrow questions and systems that define our research, and yet aware of the global realities that increasingly impact both. Experiences in the territories of the Heiltsuk, Kitasoo/Xai’xais, Wuikinuxv, and Nuxalk Nations of BC’s Central Coast, and those during various field projects worldwide, have allowed me to glimpse the complexity, diversity, and beauty within functioning socioecological systems. They provide the fuel that compels me to continue pursuing research that informs ecosystem management, social justice, and Indigenous rights on local scales, despite the immense challenges we all globally face.

Traces of neighbours on the beaches of the Koeye River estuary. Human and non-human animals alike rely on functioning ecosystems and liveable climates to thrive.

To engage in research that seeks to answer complex questions about environmental policy, human values, and ecosystem management in complex systems is daunting; to do so in the face of the forthcoming consequences of climate change is even more so. To be fortified by moments surrounded by friends and colleagues, with vistas of the incredible biodiversity and life-sustaining resources we risk losing, however, is to believe in our collective power to adapt and overcome.

This post first appeared on the ACS Lab Blog

On the ACS Lab: Kid Conservationists and the Value of Outreach

This blog post first appeared on the Applied Conservation Science lab’s web page. Please find the original here.

 A flourish of waving hands darts across my computer screen as I close my video chat window. The waves goodbye signal the end of my first virtual hangout with Ms. Michael’s fourth grade class. Based near Chicago, IL, the class is as diverse as they are enthusiastic. I smile with a mix of relief and newfound inspiration as I log out.

As applied conservation scientists, we’re increasingly called to share our research with a broad audience. Whether through blog posts, carefully curated social media feeds, or opinion editorial pieces, we seek to strengthen our communication skills and public awareness of our research. Despite my experiences in public outreach, however, I was totally intimidated to video-in to Ms. Michael’s class as part of my work with the National Geographic Leadership and Development Program.

As a scientist at the interface of Indigenous knowledge and ecological science, the concepts that inform and strengthen my research often seem complex. I hoped to give the 9- and 10-year-olds in the classroom a window into my world – of research in the Great Bear Rainforest, partnership with First Nations reasserting their traditional management rights, and the value of exploring many types of knowledge to inform conservation science.

The kids far exceeded my expectations, quickly calmed my nerves, and humbled me in the process. Through the lens of the charismatic Spirit Bear (Ursus americanus kermodei), we explored habitat loss, pollution, Indigenous knowledge, cultural values, and our own solutions. The class took on complex topics such as invasive species and European colonization, and together we discussed opportunities to observe our own environments and practice developing our own “local ecological knowledge.” Perhaps most impactful was the consistent conservation ethic I witnessed beneath our conversation – the entire classroom understood the reality of resource limitations and the inherent importance of conserving the Spirit Bear, its home, and diverse human cultures.

The experience has solidified the incredible value of scientific outreach across populations and ages, and I am thrilled to continue the inspiring work. I have much more to learn from Ms. Michael’s class!