My Why

My relationship with the environment began long before I had a name for it. As a kid, I spent summers walking the beaches of Newport, Rhode Island, and I remember feeling disheartened by the plastic and debris scattered along the shoreline. I didn’t yet understand the politics, science, or systems behind environmental issues. I simply knew that a place I loved was being changed, and that didn’t feel right.

That awareness stayed with me. In 2009, while studying abroad in Australia, I completed a capstone project exploring the human impact on beaches. It was an early opportunity to connect my curiosity about people and place with my growing concern for the environments we depend on.

Since then, my career has centered on storytelling, advocacy, strategic outreach, and finding ways to turn ideas into action. I’ve always believed that the way we communicate matters—that stories can make people pay attention, care about something beyond themselves, and see a familiar issue from a different perspective.

The outdoors has been an equally important teacher. I’ve thru-hiked Vermont’s Long Trail end-to-end, mountain biked Nepal’s Annapurna Circuit, surfed, explored local trails, and spent countless hours simply finding my way outside. These experiences have taught me resourcefulness, curiosity, humility, and, perhaps most importantly, the value of connection.

The more time I spend outside, the less the environment feels like an abstract idea. It becomes personal. It’s the mountain I return to every winter. The trail I walk when I need to think. The beach where I learned to surf. The river where my family fishes. The places where I’ve challenged myself, found clarity, made friends, and created memories.

Over time, those places become part of who we are. That belief, that our relationship with a place can shape our identity, is at the center of how I see the outdoors. I don’t think the natural world exists simply as a backdrop for recreation. It is something we participate in, learn from, depend on, and ultimately have a responsibility to care for.

I’m drawn to the intersection of people and place: where recreation meets community, where art meets conservation, and where personal experience shapes the way we understand the world around us.

I also believe outdoor communities are wonderfully complicated. They are made up of skiers, climbers, hikers, surfers, photographers, guides, artists, conservationists, business owners, ranchers, and people who simply love being outside. Their backgrounds, beliefs, experiences, and perspectives can be completely different, yet they can share a deep connection to the same landscape.

To me, stewardship starts with connection. It starts with knowing a place well enough to notice when something changes. It starts with loving a landscape enough to want to leave it better than you found it. And it starts with understanding that the places we care about are not just ours to enjoy, but ours to protect for the people who come after us.

My own relationship with the environment continues to evolve through the places I visit, the people I meet, and the stories I hear. I’m still learning, still asking questions, and still trying to understand the complicated ways that people connect to the landscapes around them.

We are shaped by the places we love, and the places we love are worth caring for.