My journey into marine conservation began far from the ocean, in the heart of the Midwest, in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. My first exposure to the magic of marine ecosystems was while watching Animal Planet and other nature TV shows, as well as visiting the vibrant aquarium at the Milwaukee Public Zoo. Like most Latinos, I didn't have much access to the outdoors, and my family stayed near home during vacations. I was 21 years old when I experienced the ocean in person for the very first time.
When I was in college, I spent a semester in Bocas del Toro, off the coast of Panama, further feeding my passion for marine ecology. I was one of the only people in my cohort who didn’t know how to swim. The program director taught me some basic skills. And days later, I found myself leaping from a boat into the ocean for my coastal ecology class. I snorkeled around colorful coral reefs and their residents, bustling and sessile, forever giving me a new perspective. It was in Bocas that I saw firsthand how coral reef bleaching, a result of ocean acidification, affects entire local ecosystems, including the communities that rely on them. The complexity and wide-reaching nature of climate change impacts on coastal systems became more clear, and these learnings were one big gut punch. Through conversations with Bocatoreños of diverse backgrounds, I also came to learn about environmental injustice from an international perspective. Like in the U.S., where historically excluded and suppressed communities, like Black, Indigenous, and Latino peoples, are bearing the brunt of compounding environmental hazards, Bocatoreños, particularly Afro-descendent and Indigenous residents, faced their own suite of complex injustices. This realization further fueled my commitment to this crucial work.
Working on climate policy at a marine conservation organization, I’ve seen the severity of issues like sea level rise and coastal flooding, including their effects on communities near the coast and the critical infrastructure we all rely on. Sea level rise and extreme weather are persistently threatening communities I care about, like those in Puerto Rico and along the Gulf Coast, where I have strong family roots. These communities tend to be low-income and experience neglect from “public servants”, especially linguistically isolated Latino communities, who are ignored and deemed “sacrifice communities” when it comes to addressing deadly environmental crises. Another ocean-based injustice often faced by Latino communities in the U.S. is a lack of access to the ocean, which is super important for our mental and physical wellness, intergenerational ties, and much more.
And as if things were not bad enough already, during the United Nations Conference of the Parties (COP28), the two-week-long summit where the world’s leaders convene to address climate change and biodiversity loss, the event president, Al Jaber, and chief executive of the Abu Dhabi national oil company claimed that there is no scientific evidence that indicates that fossil fuels need to be phased out to mitigate climate change, which caused an outcry from environmental scientists and activists all over the world, including myself.
It can be overwhelming and, sometimes, hopeless to realize how much of a social and systemic transformation is necessary to fully mitigate these issues. We don’t always have policymakers who prioritize the well-being of our communities, our ecosystems, and our oceans.
Fortunately, having spent several years working alongside conservation changemakers, I've noticed a drive to remain optimistic, to center love and joy in our work, and to keep pushing forward because our lives literally depend on it. I am hopeful, and you should be too. In recent years, climate change and environmental protection have gained more political attention, and I believe that as younger generations make up more of the electorate, these issues will be determinants of who is elected to power and who is not.
I invite you to not get discouraged by what happened and failed to happen at COP28. The people who make the decisions and legislation are not listening to us. However, the amount of support for marine protection commitments and legislation keeps increasing, reaching a point where there are so many voices and advocates that we can’t be silenced. That is the moment when the tide will change, when climate science will flood the narrative, and we will rush to make all the positive changes we need. And, if you do not want to wait until then, read this environmental policy toolkit that empowers you with the knowledge for effective marine and environmental protection in your community.
