Shared Purpose, Regional Strength: Reflecting on the 2025 Accelerator Cohort Retreat
June 17, 2025
Our team has been back in our respective homes across the western U.S. for a little over a week, but my mind is still lingering somewhere between the red cliffs and forested trails of Prince Edward Island. Earlier this month, we officially kicked off our 2025 Peregrine Accelerator with a cohort retreat on this charming island, bringing together members of eight project teams working across the North Atlantic region of the U.S. and Canada. It was our first time all in the same room—and what a room it turned out to be.
This year’s cohort is tackling a rich mix of challenges and opportunities tied to the unique coastal and forested landscapes of the region. During our time together, strong themes began to surface: the urgent need for coastal resilience; the importance of restoring and reconnecting landscapes and habitats; and the essential role of Indigenous leadership in guiding conservation forward. We didn’t engineer these commonalities, they emerged naturally as teams shared stories of their work, their communities, and their hopes for the future.
Jamie Thomas, Director of Culture and Tourism for Lennox Island First Nation & Business Partnership Developer with the Mi’kmaq Confederacy of PEI (center), shared stories with cohort one evening.
We also spent time learning from local Mi’kmaq leaders, whose generous storytelling and presence reminded us that conservation doesn’t begin with a project plan—it begins with relationship, respect, and history. One of my favorite moments was sitting quietly in the dunes at PEI National Park, listening to a local naturalist share the geological and cultural story of the land beneath our feet. It was a reminder of how much these landscapes can teach us if we slow down to listen.
The work ahead for this cohort is ambitious. But after spending just a few days together, it’s clear that the group is already beginning to forge the kinds of relationships that will support long-term impact: rooted in place, responsive to community, and strengthened through collaboration. There was laughter, deep conversation, and opportunities to begin to strategize around fundraising and collaboration. One participant described the retreat as “intensive, supportive, and incredibly energizing,” while another shared, “I feel part of something bigger—this shared purpose gives me new perspective and motivation.”
Prince Edward Island National Park, where the cohort took a field trip during the retreat to learn about the natural and cultural history of the island.
That sense of shared purpose is exactly what we hoped for. The next six months of the Accelerator will be busy—coaching, peer exchange, refining strategies, and raising resources—but I have no doubt that the relationships built on the island will carry this cohort through. There’s something powerful about being in a space where leaders from different places, sectors, and identities can come together not just to learn, but to belong.
We’re so grateful to the funders and partners who made this gathering possible. And to the cohort: thank you for showing up with such openness, curiosity, and care. The work ahead is hard—but you’re not doing it alone.
On a cool, sunny April day, I found myself submerged for the first time in my life in the vibrant kelp forests of the Channel Islands National Marine Sanctuary. Thirty feet below the surface the sunlight filtered through the dense canopy of kelp, casting a mesmerizing glow on the ocean world. As I followed my dive buddy through the towering stalks, I marveled at the diversity of life thriving in this underwater jungle. Despite the low visibility, I watched California sheephead and Garibaldi dart in and out of the kelp, spent time with a sheep crab, a horn shark, and an octopus, and delighted as the occasional sea lion zipped past. This dive was not just a journey into the cool California depths, but a glimpse into the potential of nearshore habitats to support both marine life and coastal communities.
The United States and Canada have more kelp habitat than any other countries in the world, yet kelp only live in 2.2 percent of American and 6.4 percent of Canadian waters. These narrow bands of habitat are small in area but are vital as spawning, nursery, and feeding grounds for ocean life, including resident and migratory species. Kelp forests have enriched Native communities for millennia and support modern communities and economies up and down the coast. Yet according to the Kelp Forest Alliance’s State of the World’s Kelp Forests Report, less than 10 percent of kelp in both countries is safeguarded within a marine protected area (MPA).
How is this possible? One reason is that for much of the past two decades, the focus of the ocean conservation movement has been on designating large, remote MPAs in order to meet the global campaign to protect 30 percent of the ocean by 2030—often referred to as 30×30. Area targets may disincentivize prioritizing areas in the nearshore and coastal zone, such as estuaries, tidally influenced wetlands, and submerged habitats like kelp, because these places tend to be much smaller than pelagic realms. The data bears this out as 99 percent of the U.S. MPAs are in the U.S. Pacific territories and Hawaii.
The United States current MPA network largely focuses on protecting pelagic habitats, while overlooking many nearshore areas. Several of the most vulnerable habitats in the country—and those that are the most important to peoples, cultures, economies, biodiversity conservation, and carbon sequestration—are near highly populated coastal communities. This proximity can create threats to coastal habitats through development, pollution, and overexploitation, but it also provides opportunities for ocean advocacy. These habitats are crucial for people and wildlife but may not rank as important if the only goal is to maximize conservation area.
While the focus of 30×30 has been effective in raising awareness and setting ambitious conservation goals, the United States needs a new ocean conservation strategy. Achieving a healthy, sustainable ocean and addressing the threats of climate change, rising sea levels, ocean acidification, habitat destruction, and unsustainable fishing practices, require conservation goals that go beyond 30×30. Moving forward, the ocean community needs new strategies to ensure that the United States is investing in conservation policies that are geographically representative, just, and effective, benefiting all Americans.
Photo courtesy of Angelo Villagomez
Nearshore Ocean Progress
On May 5th, members of the America the Beautiful for All coalition—including my organization, the Center for American Progress—published a report proposing strategies for going beyond 30×30 and delivering nearshore ocean progress. Our framework offers conservation opportunities that can help more effectively protect vulnerable ecosystems, provide benefits for coastal communities, create jobs and support working waterfronts, and build popular support for ocean conservation. It highlights case studies of how state and local policies have effectively protected six key habitats: kelp forests, coastal wetlands, oyster beds, seagrass meadows, coral reefs, and beaches and dunes. These success stories demonstrate the importance of state- and community-led efforts to protect nearshore habitats and provide a blueprint for ocean progress.
An ocean strategy focused on nearshore and coastal conservation can grow a better networked, more influential ocean conservation movement in the United States as 40 percent of Americans live near the coast. Major components of this new strategy are a renewed focus on effective nearshore conservation that works for this 40 percent, offering policies that can be advanced at the state, territorial, Tribal, and local levels at a time when there is a lack of federal leadership on ocean and coastal conservation, and modeling a framework for designing future conservation goals that prioritizes equity, community, and human rights-based approaches.
Focusing on nearshore habitats brings new challenges. Many coastal conservation efforts must contend with the complex political, social, and environmental systems facing habitats near population centers. Our new strategy needs to address conservation costs and benefits both to ecosystems and human social needs. This will require innovative collaboration, participation, and empowerment of diverse stakeholders in ocean decision-making and management and new strategies such as restoration and climate adaptation in addition to fisheries management and traditional MPAs.
Angelo Villagomez is a Senior Fellow at the Center for American Progress, focusing on Indigenous-led conservation and ocean justice. Angelo spoke at the Salazar Center’s 2025 International Symposium on Conservation Impact during the session “Keystone Ideas and Imperatives: North America’s Marine Biodiversity,” where he and fellow panelists explored the importance of North America’s oceans for connectivity, biodiversity, and coastal economies. This blog reflects on novel ideas and approaches for effective marine and coastal conservation in North America.
Kate Potter
Where Conservation Meets Community: Rethinking Nature’s Role in Economic Resilience
April 24, 2025
At the Salazar Center’s 2025 International Symposium on Conservation Impact, we will be exploring ways communities in North America can rethink how we can leverage nature’s benefits to build strong communities and local economies. Kate Potter, Executive Director of the Canadian Biosphere Network, will be moderating a session on ‘Where Community Meets Economy’—for which this reflection sets the stage, exploring how the Canadian Biosphere model helps us rethink how conservation can intersect with economic development.
In 2022, over 100 nations—including Canada—committed to the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework, pledging to protect 30% of the world’s biodiversity by 2030 and restore the integrity, resilience, and connectivity of natural ecosystems by 2050. With just five years left to meet these ambitious targets, Canada’s 19 biosphere regions (also known as UNESCO-designated biosphere reserves) are showing what modern conservation can look like: not as isolated protection, but as a living partnership between people and nature. These regions redefine conservation as community-driven, place-based work that blends Indigenous leadership, local knowledge, and scientific insight—where sustainability, human well-being, and ecological health are deeply interconnected. As part of the 700+ sites in the global UNESCO World Network of Biosphere Reserves, Canada’s biosphere regions are uniquely positioned to offer scalable, replicable solutions for the urgent biodiversity and climate challenges of our time.
Guided by the Canadian Biosphere Regions Association (CBRA), these regions champion a bold and unconventional approach to biodiversity protection—prioritizing harmony between people and nature while addressing modern challenges such as climate change, working landscapes, and habitat loss.
Canadian biosphere regions embrace the idea of working landscapes—places where people actively live, work, and grow alongside nature. This concept ensures that conservation doesn’t come at the expense of human prosperity but instead fosters mutual benefits. For example, in Ontario, the Frontenac Arch Biosphere Reserve implemented a co-governed wild rice restoration project with local partners and in Georgian Bay, they implemented the Integrated Community Energy and Climate Action Project that involves regional prioritization, action and implementation efficiencies among the local municipalities and First Nations. And in Alberta, the Waterton Biosphere Reserve worked with agricultural producers to implement beneficial management practices to steward their grasslands, riparian, and aquatic habitats and the biodiversity on local farms and ranches.
These projects exemplify how managed landscapes can both support economic vitality and protect ecosystems, creating a model for sustainability.
While preserving nature is a cornerstone of biosphere regions, equally important is their focus on community resilience and empowerment. These regions act as a bridge between people and the environment, offering tools, knowledge, and collaborative strategies to build futures where both can prosper.
The unconventional conservation model of biosphere regions comes with its hurdles. Funding remains largely project-based, hindering the long-term scaling of impactful initiatives. There continues to be a disconnect with public perception and political decision-making when it comes to recognizing the environment as the foundation of both the economy and human survival. Engaging multiple stakeholders —including municipal governments, Indigenous Nations, conservation groups, and private landowners — takes time. But the model also opens doors to innovation and collaboration. It offers the opportunity to build stronger partnerships with Indigenous communities and co-develop governance models. Biosphere reserves can advocate for biodiversity policies at provincial and local levels to embed sustainability into future development. Finally, Biosphere Reserves help us recognize the value of ecosystem services can help integrate conservation into economic and policy decisions.
Canadian biosphere regions are critical players in implementing Canada’s 2030 Nature Strategy. Their efforts align with 19 of the strategy’s 23 targets, demonstrating place-based conservation and sustainable land management at its best. Through projects like tree planting under the 2 Billion Trees Initiative, climate monitoring stations in Manicouagan-Uapishka, and ecosystem service assessments in Fundy, biosphere regions are directly advancing the strategy’s goals. Their unique ability to combine science, traditional knowledge, and community collaboration ensures that both ecosystems and people thrive in the face of modern challenges.
Together, these regions illuminate a path where conservation, community, and economic sustainability converge—a legacy of balance for future generations.
As we continue to scale up these innovative, place-based approaches to conservation, we’re excited to explore these ideas further at the 2025 International Symposium on Conservation Impact and connect with others who are reimagining what conservation can look like in practice.
Akshadha Gunasekar
Meet our new staff member: Akshadha Gunasekar
March 20, 2025
I am Akshadha Gunasekar, and I joined the Salazar Center in January. Currently, I am pursuing my Master of Business Administration with an Impact Specialization (Impact MBA) at the College of Business, Colorado State University. My journey has been anything but linear.
I was raised in Muscat, Oman, to Indian parents who brought with them a rich cultural value system from Tamil Nadu. Growing up in a traditional Tamil household while being immersed in Omani culture shaped my identity deeply. I was fortunate to represent Oman as part of the National Women’s Cricket team for several years, an experience that taught me discipline, teamwork, leadership and resilience.
Seeking to connect more with my roots, I moved to Chennai, India, for my undergraduate studies. I earned a Bachelor of Commerce with a specialization in Marketing Management from the University of Madras. My first full-time role was in marketing at a real estate company in Chennai, which provided valuable exposure but also made me realize that I would achieve satisfaction and fulfillment at work by doing something meaningful that had an impact on the world. My desire to pivot towards sustainability started to grow.
Upon returning to Muscat due to family needs, I worked with a local partner of Dell Technologies. My role focused on product management, logistics, and vendor relations. While I appreciated the diverse professional and cultural learning experiences there, my passion for sustainability grew stronger, particularly towards social impact. This passion led me to pursue the Impact MBA at Colorado State University, which entails courses like Economics of Ecosystems and Biodiversity, Sustainability Reporting and Accounting, and Corporate Social and Sustainable Responsibility and more. This program has been fruitful and feels like the best decision I’ve taken to pivot into sustainability because it aligns closely with my values and career aspirations.
I was looking for sustainability focused organizations to gain hands-on work experience before graduating. That’s when I was fortunate to have learned about this position that was open at the Salazar center. In my role as the Operations Assistant, I support the operational needs of the Salazar Center’s programs, including the Symposium and the Peregrine Accelerator. I will leverage my accounting and finance knowledge to support budgeting, finance, and logistical planning. I am excited to bring my business perspective to a team rich in conservation expertise. This role not only allows me to contribute meaningfully but also offers invaluable learning opportunities in the conservation and non-profit sector. Right now, I am looking forward to our upcoming Symposium in Vancouver this May.
Outside of work and studies, I have a deep love for cricket and have cherished my years playing at a national level. I also enjoy exploring cultural traditions, traveling, and engaging in conversations about sustainability and social equity. My favorite music would definitely be Indian Ghazal & Classical (carnatic) music, and indie music across languages. If I am in the mood, I wouldn’t stop myself from getting on the floor to dance.
My personal mantra is “Mindset is Everything” and “Thoughts become things” – beliefs that have guided my journey so far and brought me to the Salazar Center. Joining the Salazar Center has been an incredible opportunity to bring my business acumen to a mission-driven conservation organization. I’m excited to learn from this talented and amazing team, contribute to meaningful projects, and deepen my understanding of conservation and sustainability.
Emily Barbo
Celebrating National Public Lands Day: Together for Tomorrow
September 27, 2024
Public lands hold a unique place in the North American experience, offering spaces for recreation, conservation, and community. On National Public Lands Day, we reflect on the theme “Together for Tomorrow,” exploring the profound relationship between people and these shared landscapes. In the following reflections, our friends and partners discuss the power of public lands to inspire hope, foster unity, and strengthen communities. From the aspirational legacy of national parks to the inclusive potential of local green spaces, these perspectives highlight how public lands connect us to one another and our environment—reminding us that their future is our shared responsibility.
Catie Boehmer
Common ground: A Hunter’s Reflection on Public Lands and Shared Stewardship
September 26, 2024
As part of the Salazar Center’s celebration of National Public Lands Day, we asked a few of our friends and partners to reflect on the power of public lands to inspire hope, foster unity, and strengthen communities. This reflection is part of that series.
In my role at the Salazar Center, public lands come up in conversations around things like conservation targets (like America the Beautiful), landscape connectivity, and Indigenous co-management, and I would eagerly engage on any of these topics on National Public Lands Day, especially given this year’s theme of “Together for Tomorrow.” But there’s another angle from which I can consider this theme, and a much more personal one.
Catie and her husband Marty on a pheasant hunting trip, Red Lion State Wildlife Area, Colorado.
Outside of work, I’m a hunter, and I’ve also volunteered in a variety of roles for my state’s parks and wildlife agency. Participating in these activities means I spend a good bit of time on public lands, often in ways that 90+ percent of the public isn’t experiencing. It’s sitting in the dark at 4:oo am on an October morning, cold and silent, hiding behind a shrub or a rise on the landscape. It’s bushwacking through (and as a short person, getting very tangled in) tall grass and tumbleweeds on the plains. It’s wandering off-trail, meandering slowly and head down, marking on a mapping app where I see droppings or wallows or signs of grazing. It’s harvesting my food from the land, with deep respect and reverence and usually a few tears of gratitude. Rather than seeking out mountain-top vistas or pristine alpine lakes or even just trying to log a few miles in the name of exercise—all of which I also do regularly—these experiences on public lands are about reading and understanding the terrain, the habitat, the animals and the signs they leave behind.
I have only been hunting for a few years (“adult-onset,” some folks like to call it)—less time than I’ve been recreating in other ways, and less time than I’ve spent in my career in conservation. I took up hunting because it was introduced to me in grad school as “one tool in the conservation toolbox,” because I wanted to feel closer to my food, and because for the first time in my life, I was living in a place where vast public lands were minutes from my home, rather than hours. Hunting also felt like a real opportunity to financially support public lands, by buying annual licenses and paying excise taxes on firearms and ammunition—money that goes back into public land coffers regardless of whether my hunt is successful.
Reflecting today on public lands, I feel immensely privileged to be able to consider their importance from so many perspectives. Public lands safeguard ecosystems and habitats and provide clean air and water. They provide access to nature and opportunities to run, climb, ride, paddle, and escape in wild and beautiful places. They provide food. Everyone who enjoys these things has a connection to nature and an interest in protecting public lands, even if not everyone shares an interest in how they enjoy public lands. In this way, and as manyhaveopined before me, public lands and conservation can be a great unifier across political identities and cultures. With so many threats facing our public lands, the best way to ensure they are thriving and accessible now and for future generations is to continue to find ways to come together, not reasons to divide ourselves.
Catie Boehmer is the Assistant Director of Engagement and Operations for the Salazar Center for North American Conservation.
Leisl Carr Childers and Michael W. Childers
The Geography of Hope and America’s Best Idea and Why These Ideas Still Matter
September 26, 2024
As part of the Salazar Center’s celebration of National Public Lands Day, we asked a few of our friends and partners to reflect on the power of public lands to inspire hope, foster unity, and strengthen communities. This reflection is part of that series.
In our work, every day is Public Lands Day, but recently, we have had the opportunity to reflect on the meaning of public lands, particularly national parks, through the mid-twentieth-century writings of Western historian and conservationist Wallace Stegner. We decided to reexamine two famous phrases Stegner offered American readers: the “geography of hope” as the concluding phrase of the Wilderness Letter, which advocated for the establishment of the wilderness preservation system and America’s “best idea” as a reflection of the nation’s democratic process and its best self.
Stegner contended with the phrase he penned in 1961 throughout his entire career. To him, the geography of hope represented the wilderness idea, the region we call the American West, and public lands in all their forms across the country. Rather than merely pinning the meaning of the phrase to a single geography, he infused the idea of these lands, largely contained within the American West and embodied by wilderness, with a hope for a future in which Americans created a society to match our scenery. Adam M. Sowards has highlighted the aspirational quality of these landscapes, in how they draw us forward into them and into the future. He also has emphasized how this hope is inherently relational. These lands are the metaphorical table around which all Americans gather. The geography of hope is a social ethos even more than it is a landscape.
Stegner returned to his theme of hope in penning his now-famous essay “The Best Idea We Ever Had: An Overview.” In it, he argued that our national parks were America’s best idea, reflecting us at our best rather than our worst. But at the moment he penned the article extolling the virtues of our national parks, they were under siege. The attack did not come from the much-decried former Secretary of the Interior James Watt, as many environmentalists of the time believed, but from visitors and from a Congress that refused to fund them appropriately. National Park visitation has only ever increased since the mid-twentieth century and the budgets that maintain them have only decreased. Titling national parks our “best idea” was more than a celebration of these landscapes, it was a call to arms to protect and manage them for future generations. Our public lands are our legacy, our source of hope for our future, our best idea.
The lessons of the past in these powerful phrases written by Stegner still hold true for us now. Public lands are not a policy priority for politicians. But they should be a priority for each of us. They are the landscapes that give us hope for the future, they bring us together and give us joy, and we must intentionally invest in them for that future. We are the ones who must help land managers do the work. The next time you visit a national park or any public land, try to remember to see not just the landscape itself, but also the people with whom you share the view.
The Power of Parks: Strengthening Communities and Healing Divides
September 26, 2024
As part of the Salazar Center’s celebration of National Public Lands Day, we asked a few of our friends and partners to reflect on the power of public lands to inspire hope, foster unity, and strengthen communities. This reflection is part of that series.
As summer turns to fall, Americans naturally turn from beaches and lakeshores to parks and woods. There, they may trace a familiar footpath to take in the foliage or join a pickup game of soccer. But parks offer something more profound than a sensory escape or venue for physical activity, as important as those things are. They are an opportunity to deepen friendships and make new ones, to strengthen community, and even, perhaps, to heal our democracy.
As Americans’ sense of community is being tested by political polarization, racial and economic division, and loneliness, parks and green spaces are neutral gathering places. On National Public Lands Day, we at Trust for Public Land (TPL) know how effective parks are in bringing people together and bridging divides. In fact, building community is a key pillar of our work, from brainstorming with residents at the start of a park project to ensuring they have the power to shape programs and form partnerships to realize a park’s potential.
A recent survey by TPL found that great parks yield strong communities. Each year, our ParkScore® index ranks the park systems of the 100 most populous cities in the United States, based on metrics like investment, equity, amenities, access, and acreage. This year, we also surveyed those cities about their efforts to bolster community through parks.
In a special TPL report, “The Power of Parks to Strengthen Community,” we revealed that residents of cities with the highest park rankings were more socially connected and engaged with their neighbors than residents of cities with lower-ranked park systems. In the top 25 cities, there were, on average, 26 percent more social connections between low- and high-income individuals than in lower-ranked cities. People were also 60 percent more likely to volunteer than those living in lower-ranked cities. (These patterns held after controlling for race/ethnicity, education, poverty, urbanicity, family structure, and transiency.)
Students at The Pacific School in Brooklyn, New York, explore the new plants in the renovated Community Schoolyard® garden during the ribbon-cutting ceremony in June 2023. The schoolyards are open to the public after school hours and on weekends to ensure that neighbors have close-to-home access to high-quality park space. Photo: Alexa Hoyer
Social connections lead to social capital, the somewhat fuzzy but proven concept that neighborly ties empower communities. Social capital is associated with significant community benefits, including improved health, social resilience, civic participation, and economic well-being. Communities with more social connections see other positive outcomes, from lower mortality and reduced depression to resiliency to disasters.
Whether through baseball leagues, senior walks, community picnics or volunteer days, people come together in parks and public lands. They share news and gossip, complain and organize, and ultimately, advocate for better and more parks, as well as other services. But in order for Americans to convene in parks, local green spaces must be attractive and widely accessible, and not just in affluent suburbs and cities, but everywhere.
At the federal level, we are championing legislation that would greatly strengthen local parks. The bill, called the Outdoors for All Act (O4A), would improve the Outdoor Recreation Legacy Partnership, a grant program that provides funding for communities that need parks the most. The new legislation would make that program permanent, avoiding the need for annual renewal. It would also let federally recognized tribes apply to the funding program for the first time. It would also lower the population requirement to 25,000, meaning that towns and smaller cities would be eligible.
National Public Lands Day is a time to reflect on the wonder of parks—whether the magic of sunlight filtering through a tree canopy or the social alchemy of a chance encounter. But it’s also an opportunity to demand that everyone have access to their health-inducing, community-building superpowers.
The role of big data and AI in building community trust and empowerment
July 19, 2024
Lately, the news has been filled with stories about the good, the bad, and the ugly of artificial intelligence (AI). From ChatGPT to AI bots popping up on all our digital devices, it feels like AI and big data tools have very quickly become omnipresent in many of our spaces. And even though we have been leveraging data in our conservation spaces for a long time, there is newfound interest in seeking meaningful and impactful ways to incorporate novel data tools into our work as we seek to reduce the impacts of climate change and reverse biodiversity loss.
I recently had the immense pleasure to attend the Greater & Greener conference in Seattle this June. This convening is one of the largest gatherings of urban parks thinkers, innovators and decision-makers in North America. Among its interlinked themes, the event focused on equity, inclusivity and climate change, all themes that echo values we hold at the Salazar Center. One of the keynotes, Jaqueline Lu, of Helpful Places, gave an inspiring and passionate talk about the potential for AI to empower local residents and to build trust between communities and local government decision-makers, all while helping to green our cities. In a space where conversations were focused on trees, parks, and people, it was a head turner. What she talked about really resonated with me in a surprising way.
Jaqueline founded Helpful Places to foster building diverse coalitions to advance the adoption of what is known in the AI world as Digital Trust for Places & Routines (DTPR), which is an open-source “system-to-people” communication standard for technology. The goal of their DTPR project is to advance greater transparency and civic dialogue about the use of digital technologies in the built environment (you can see some examples of it here and here). Jaqueline told a story of how in 2015 she worked on a city-wide participatory street tree mapping project in New York City. The effort involved 2,200 volunteers from 60 community groups, who mapped over 600,000 trees. This project was the genesis of the idea that we could better leverage data to empower communities and engage more collaboratively with city decision makers. It helped drive her to think more deeply about the ways that cities struggle with engaging communities about data. Realizing that most of the public will never attend a community feedback meeting, but everyone in a city will be using public spaces, she saw an opportunity.
There were multiple ideas in this talk that resonated with me. First, I loved that the motivation for the tool was centered around community co-creation and trust building. To create the DTPR framework, people from a diversity of backgrounds and lived experiences co-designed and tested it along with technology, privacy, smart city and public realm experts.
This notion of community co-creation and trust aligns with our values at the Salazar Center. At our Symposium for Conservation Impact last year, several speakers elevated the idea that progress only moves at the speed of trustand this AI tool is an intriguing way to think about building trust. The talk also made me wonder about how AI tools such as what the speaker described can be better incorporated into climate and biodiversity protection, in cities or outside cities. In our current urban climate resilience work, we too have been thinking about ways that city decision makers can make better use of data to inform and accelerate decision-making and action. Are AI tools the best way to accelerate action so we can reach change faster on the climate and biodiversity fronts? We already use a lot of big data sets in biodiversity protection and climate resilience work and there are many examples of urban climate community science projects (see this example from one of other former Symposium speakers, Dr Jeremy Hoffman). Yet, what was intriguing about this presentation was how the Helpful Places DTPR project was not simply a data gathering exercise that could potentially be used to influence government decision-making, but that government decision-making was built into the process through collaborative engagement with communities.
AI is not going away – those horses have left the barn. It is therefore critically important that we think deeply and carefully about how it gets used, who gets to use it, and the best ways to make it work for nature and people.
Shoshanna Dean
Connecting the Northeast through land, water, and collaboration
July 16, 2024
Shoshanna and Jen Kovecses at NENAM.
I was lucky enough to attend the first ever Northeastern North America / Turtle Island Connectivity Summit (NENAM) in Montréal / Tiohtià:ke, Canada, hosted by our friends at the Quebec Labrador Foundation, the Center for Large Landscape Conservation, and the Staying Connected Initiative. The Salazar Center’s efforts focus on the continental scale, so it was especially exciting to attend a conference where the attendees were collectively focused on their impact on a shared and beloved landscape. The spirit of the gathering was centered on transcending borders and sectors to recognize that humans, plants, and wildlife need connected landscapes to thrive.
NENAM brought together practitioners, government representatives, agencies, tribal representatives, and funders to create a regional roadmap to better understand their challenges and achieve a resilient and connected Northeastern North America.
The Salazar Center also wants to protect this ecologically diverse and important geography. We plan to hold our second Peregrine Accelerator for Conservation Impact – a tailored training, mentorship, and peer-learning program designed to identify and strengthen innovative conservation projects – in the North Atlantic Transboundary region.
This region encompasses seven U.S. states and three Canadian provinces. The landscape has even been identified by The Nature Conservancy as one of their four globally significant core areas, due to the region’s critical potential to conserve biodiversity, act as a carbon sink, and provide resilience in the face of climate change. From the Atlantic coast to the Adirondacks and Appalachians, a host of plant and animal species rely on an intact and conserved landscape to survive. The collaborative work being done by the organizations at NENAM is a vital step to ensuring species can move between habitats, particularly in the face of a changing climate that is pushing many to higher elevations and latitudes.
Takeaways
I learned so much from this impressive group. These are a few of the takeaways that will stick with me from NENAM:
1. Indigenous nations are leading the way
Indigenous groups are responsible for stewarding 80% of the world’s biodiversity, despite making up only 5% of the world’s population. Indigenous Traditional Ecological Knowledge is continuously proving to be critical for protecting intact landscapes. The tribes and First Nations of the northeast are leading a multitude of impressive efforts to establish Indigenous Protected and Conserved Areas (IPCAs), restore free flowing rivers, and reignite the traditional stewardship of their ancestral lands. For too long the conservation community kept Indigenous groups out of critical conversations, and the time is now to elevate and collaborate with those who have stewarded the land for time immemorial. A particularly poignant moment was when Elder Dr. Albert D. Marshall Sr., Moose Clan of the Mi’kmaw Nation, Mi’ma’ki encouraged us all to “walk together with the uniqueness we have been given” when doing this critical work.
2. Conservation wins when different sectors come together
One aspect of NENAM that particularly impressed me was the diversity of sectors represented. The audience comprised transportation agencies, public works departments, environmental nonprofits, tribal organizations, state and municipal leaders, landscape scale collaboratives, and more. This diverse group of representatives meant that the discussions, particularly in the breakout groups, yielded thoughts and insights that were innovative and integrative of the many sectors represented. I am excited to see the final roadmap because it will reflect a multitude of ideas and perspectives historically kept out of the landscape connectivity conversation.
Panel on the work different organizations and entities are doing to enhance landscape connectivity efforts in the region and beyond.
3. We need innovative financing and funding
It is no secret that conservation remains one of the least funded sectors, despite the critical benefits and risk-reduction that nature provides to humans. The global $700 billion financing gap is one of the starkest examples of this, demonstrating that we can no longer afford to do business as usual when it comes to funding conservation. I was excited to hear examples of how leaders in this region are working to explore new ways of funding this critical work. From bonds for nature to cultural ecosystem service valuation, there is a need for a diverse and innovative mix of public and private financing to successfully pay for the work that needs to be done. My colleague, Catie Boehmer, recently attended the Conservation Finance Network annual bootcamp. She shares her thoughts about the state of conservation funding here.
4. Working at all scales is critical to achieve connectivity
From the smallest wildlife crossing to a dam removal, to a thousand-acre forest reserve, we need to be thinking of landscape connectivity across all scales. This was made evident by the diversity of work that was shared throughout the summit. And importantly, a connected landscape can work to scale up solutions that are successful on the ground by sharing best practices across stakeholders. When we add it all up, landscape connectivity is the result of a multitude of projects that collectively connect and enhance natural space for humans and wildlife. Because of this, projects of every size are necessary to achieve our goals!
5. Borders are man-made
Wildlife and humans have existed without politically designated borders for millennia and will continue to do so into the future. As the climate changes dramatically and pushes species out of their natural ranges, we must ensure that habitats exist to support their movement. A deer, bear, bird, or bug is not going to care whether they are in the United States or Canada, they will only care if they have the resources needed to support their shift in range. Collaboration across these borders is critical for the ensured survival of us all. Similarly, Indigenous nations such as the Wabanaki have been separated by federal borders. They are still connected by their shared knowledge, traditions, and stewardship of the region, and demonstrate that borders are truly what we make of them.
Final thoughts
It is exciting to see the impressive collaboration towards a shared vision of what connectivity means for the Northeast Atlantic region. I am personally thrilled to be bringing the Peregrine Accelerator to the region in 2025, knowing that there is a strong base of committed and visionary practitioners working to build resilience for the region. We all have our work set out for us to meet global challenges for climate and biodiversity, and the NENAM summit proved that together, we just might get there.
Catie Boehmer
Conservation Finance: Hope for the future but a high bar for access
July 3, 2024
This June, I had the privilege to participate in the Conservation Finance Network’s (CFN) annual bootcamp, which has been running since 2007 and is designed to increase the ability of conservation professionals to apply innovative and effective funding and financing strategies to their work. Over the course of the week, I was introduced to a wide variety of funding opportunities and tools, many of which can be blended (or “mushed,” as our friend Peter Stein often says) to ultimately activate lots of different dollars for land and natural resource conservation.
I was blown away by the wealth of options, from federal grant programs to forest carbon markets to payments for ecosystem services. I was also a little overwhelmed by the complexity of many of the opportunities—especially those with the highest returns. As I listened to different experts and heard about case studies from across the U.S., the possibilities both excited and discouraged me. Many of these financing mechanisms, and the processes for accessing and mobilizing them, felt like they’d be out of reach for the community- and Tribal-led groups with whom my own work so often intersects.
Sometimes that inaccessibility is driven by how funds are allocated (or not). For example, the Forest Service’s Forest Legacy Program awarded a total of $5.5 million in its latest round of grants, but less than $500,000 of those funds when to Tribes. Sometimes, inaccessibility is a function of how much capacity a group needs to apply for funds. With something like the Natural Resource Conservation Service’s Regional Conservation Partnership program, the application often takes up to a year to complete and may require ongoing consultation with overextended federal employees or expensive consultants—with no guarantee of funding at the finish line. Other times, grants require a match to be eligible, or impact investors want to see a group demonstrate existing assets to offset liability. With all these funding options, a would-be recipient needs significant time, expertise, and relationships to be competitive, and even when those stars align, you’re up against dozens of other fund-seekers for a limited pool of resources.
Leigh Whelpton, CGB
Despite these barriers, I did come away from the bootcamp feeling hopeful for the future of funding conservation in new, different, and better ways. Leigh Whelpton, with Connecticut Green Bank, reflected on how innovative policy approaches can animate dollars for conservation. One example that stood out to me was the state of Connecticut’s ongoing efforts to create “resiliency improvement districts” via a ballot measure, which would deploy tax revenues toward assessments, data collection, and project implementation to address community-level climate change vulnerabilities. The measure did not pass in the most recent election, but its advocates have not given up. In the meantime, decision-makers must continue to consider how the inherently tax-base-dependent benefits of these districts can also be realized in less affluent communities (e.g., wealthy communities pay more in taxes, so a new tax will generate more dollars for those communities and less dollars for lower-income communities), who are typically more vulnerable to the impacts of climate change.
A trend toward “community navigator” programs was also highlighted: groups with a combination of capacity, expertise, and strong frontline relationships are stepping in to ensure Tribes, Indigenous groups, and other community-led entities have an equitable opportunity to access funding resources.
The First National Development Institute, for example, is partnering with the Forest Service to increase Tribes’ access to Inflation Reduction Act (IRA) and related Bipartisan Infrastructure Law (BIL) programs and opportunities. Outside of the bootcamp, I’ve also recently encountered others stepping into this navigator role. Native Americans in Philanthropy is supporting Tribal-led applicants to the National Fish and Wildlife Foundation, and Theodore Roosevelt Conservation Partnership is creating a position to support groups seeking funding for conservation work in the Rio Grande.
It also gave me hope to see that I wasn’t the only person in attendance with the goal of creating a multiplier effect for the resources and expertise showcased at the bootcamp, and that CFN is recruiting and supporting participants with that intention. The Walton Family Foundation and Global Conservation Solutions were just a few of the other organizations represented at the bootcamp with the same purpose of learning more to better support their grantees and clients.
My own goal in participating was to deepen my knowledge about conservation finance so that I can ultimately re-deploy that expertise for the benefit of the Salazar Center’s Peregrine Accelerator participants. By introducing them to new funding opportunities via our curriculum and connecting them with some of the other experts I met through the bootcamp, they will be better prepared to pursue, diversify, and maximize dollars for their on-the-ground conservation solutions. It’s a privilege to serve as this kind of conveyance for the incredible groups whose work we support through the Peregrine Accelerator. As I look to the field more broadly, I’m excited that we’re now part a growing network of like-minded organizations that are navigating—and empowering others to navigate—a complex and changing funding landscape, no matter what it looks like.
Leslie Harroun
Collaborate like a pollinator!
June 14, 2024
It’s fat and sassy bee season in Colorado! The wildflowers in the Rockies are unfurling and flaunting their sweetness, and the region’s pollinators are gorging themselves on nectar and pollen. Just take a look at this beautiful Hunt bumblebee (bombus huntii), spotted on her spring sip-fest in Golden.
Photo credit: Leslie Harroun
It’s Pollinator Week across North America and we have a ‘thing’ for pollinators at the Salazar Center. Did you know that pollinators—including bees, bats, and butterflies—provide one out of three bites of the food we eat? Or that 90 percent of wild plants and 75 percent of leading global crops depend on animal pollination? Pollinators are a keystone species, which means many other species would be hard-pressed to survive without them, including us! For example, pollinators ensure full crop harvests and produce nearly $20 billion worth of products annually. They are instrumental in seed production for the thousands of species of flowering plants growing within forests, prairies, wetlands, farmland, and cities. Pollinators also are climate heros. By nesting underground, particularly in arid regions, they provide soil aeration and water retention. By fertilizing native plants, they support root systems that hold the soil in place and habitats for multiple species that maintain soil variability and nutrient richness. In effect, they sustain entire ecosystems that can help protect us from climate impacts. As small as they are, pollinators play a gigantic role in making sure we have a sustainable food supply and healthy, climate-resilient landscapes, even in cities.
You could say that the superpower of pollinators is cross-sector collaboration.
I was recently reminded that collaboration is a human superpower too. As a roundtable moderator at the National Civic League’s All-America City Awards in Denver, I was inspired and energized by the stories of multiple cities across the U.S. that are employing collaboration and civic engagement to improve the lives of their citizens. United in place and with a will to solve problems, city employees, council members, police officers, fire fighters, business leaders, teachers, students, and nonprofits are working together to achieve economic vitality, public safety, food security, and climate resilience. These problem-solvers have no time for silos, hierarchies, or polarization. Instead, what I heard, and what gave me hope for our future, is that through the shared process of defining and achieving their goals, each city became a real community. The simple act of participation—much like pollination—unleashes creativity, an awareness of belonging, powerful solutions, and the magic of life in association.
At the Salazar Center, we work to build spaces to ignite such collaboration. For example, our Plants for Parks, Pollinators and People project is co-creating research with the City of Denver, the Mola Lab at Colorado State University, and low-income communities to determine how and where to increase and connect pollinator habitats in a way that works for Denver citizens, increases their access to nature, and improves the City’s climate resiliency. Our Peregrine Accelerator for Conservation Impact champions and invests in ideas and partnerships in important bioregions across North America that can lead to outsized conservation outcomes benefitting benefit people and nature—including bats, agave, and rural ejidatarios in Mexico —and that brings innovators together to build power and accelerate change.
Nature is a grand, majestic endeavor that depends on successful, lasting collaboration among its many species, including the human species. Let’s take a clue from the humble bumblebee and collaborate like a pollinator.
