When I look out my window onto the farm where I live just north of Boulder, I feel so thankful that my kids get to grow up with a deep environmental awareness. They get to see how we keep our soil healthy with rotational grazing on our pasture, and not using fertilizer or herbicides. They’re intimately connected to where their food comes from, how the seasons change, and how animals and plants live and die.

But my kids are also experiencing the threats to the environment more than I ever did at that age. They’ve had to evacuate from our farm twice because of wildfires. They know that the planet is getting hotter, that we’re facing water scarcity and extreme weather. I hope they can learn from these experiences and emerge with resilience and motivation—the same perspectives I try to bring to my work in the environmental movement. 

“Our kids know that the planet is getting hotter, that we’re facing water scarcity and extreme weather. I hope they can learn from these experiences and emerge with resilience and motivation.”

I know firsthand how environmental experiences can shape your worldview. Growing up in New Hampshire, I loved the outdoors. I worked at a summer camp, leading backpacking and canoe trips. Then I did a National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS) Semester in East Africa during a drought there. Coming from such a water-abundant place, it was a visceral experience of what it’s like to have finite natural resources. We literally just didn’t have water to drink.

Soon after that, I moved out to Colorado. The summer of 2002 was a severe drought. I remember going to McGuckins Hardware and asking if I could buy a rain barrel to gather water for my plants. They told me no, that’s illegal. (For a long time, rain barrels were outlawed in Colorado because they were perceived as a threat to existing water rights.) This was my pivotal “watershed moment,” if you will, into water scarcity here in Colorado. 

It launched an interest in water policy that continues to this day. I ended up designing my own graduate program of study around international water policy at the University of Denver.  I worked for years at Global Greengrants Fund, which makes small grants to grassroots groups in developing countries, based on the recommendations of advisors who are on the ground and connected to the issues. We funded work on a whole range of environmental issues—extractive industries, plastics, you name it—but I saw water as a common theme through everything I worked on. 

I started donating to Conservation Colorado because I saw that the organization was effective in advocating for healthier rivers and water conservation. After serving on the Board for several years, I came to appreciate the breadth of Conservation Colorado’s work. Water scarcity and climate change are intimately connected, and Conservation Colorado addresses both.

In the time I’ve been involved in Conservation Colorado, the need to act on climate change has only gotten more urgent. It’s something I’ve experienced not only professionally, but also personally.

“Water scarcity and climate change are intimately connected, and Conservation Colorado addresses both.”

My family has had to evacuate from our small farm twice in the span of 15 months, when wildfires threatened to consume our home. First, there was the Cal Wood Fire in October 2020 and then the Middle Fork Fire in December 2021. Both fires happened outside of the traditional fire season. It was this surreal experience of the climate chaos that is becoming our new reality. 

The day the Middle Fork Fire started, I was on a Zoom meeting. The winds were ferocious—almost blowing down the door—and it was bone-dry for late December. A neighbor called to tell us there was a fire, so I stepped outside just to check it out. I saw smoke just to the north of us—it was immediately clear the fire was a real threat. I wrote in the Zoom chat that I had to get off the meeting.

My kids were home for winter break.  I told them to grab the cats and some toys and clothes, to get ready to evacuate. They had been through this before, so they were actually quite sanguine. But then I had to scramble to try to save the other animals. The wind was so ferocious it was hard to move. By the time the horses were loaded in the trailer, my hair and face were covered in sand. A Boulder County Sheriff came by to tell us to load up the animals, then she came back again to tell us to get out as soon as we could. Meanwhile, another fire had started south of Boulder. 

As we left the house, cats and dogs and kids in tow, we thought we’d be okay. But then another neighbor called to tell us that yet another fire had started on her property. She couldn’t even get through to 911 to let them know because there had been so many calls. 

At that point, I thought our farm would probably burn. The new fire was quite close, and the winds were still 100 miles per hour. I was so shaken I had to pull the car over. We asked someone nearby to be ready to cut the fence to let our cows loose so they could survive. He texted us a picture of our livestock shelter, which had been totally destroyed by the wind. I was in a total triage state, focused only on getting my family and animals out alive. 

We ended up being lucky. Our farm and neighborhood was okay, but the Marshall Fire that ignited on the same day further south in Boulder County burned down almost 1000 structures in Louisville and Superior. 

“My family has had to evacuate from our small farm twice in the span of 15 months, when wildfires outside of the traditional fire season threatened to consume our home. It was this surreal experience of the climate chaos that is becoming our new reality.”

Now, I’m working for an organization where I’ve also been involved for many year, the Community Foundation of Boulder County. The day of the fires, Foundation opened a Wildfire Relief Fund, and to date has raised over $31 million from 67,000 donors to distribute directly to families who lost their homes or work, help them navigate insurance, and increase capacity for mental health services, among other things that are still being determined. It’s amazing to see the outpouring of community support, but with an estimated billion dollars in damages, the need is just huge.  

I really think of these fires in Boulder County as a climate disaster. So it’s been very interesting to work with the Community Foundation at the same time as being the Board Chair for Conservation Colorado. The first is a case study of a specific, immediate-term response to a climate disaster, while Conservation Colorado is focused on the long-term solutions at the policy level. 

We know that climate change is already making environmental disasters more common, and I fear that the systems we have to respond to them aren’t up to the task in the long run. It’s not sustainable to leave it to the GoFundMes and the citizen philanthropists to raise millions of dollars every time a climate-fueled disaster happens. We need to build climate resilience into our systems going forward, to innovate on the level of our policies and institutions. And we also need to stop the worst impacts by doing everything we can to hit our climate targets now.

“We know that climate change is already making environmental disasters more common, and I fear that the systems we have to respond to them aren’t up to the task in the long run.”

That’s where my work as a Board Member comes in. Conservation Colorado is the state’s leading environmental organization. It reaches the full spectrum of this movement, from connecting impactfully with grassroots groups to advocating about the most nuanced policies. With a well-respected reputation and incredibly dedicated team, Conservation Colorado is positioned to effect change on a systemic level.

Our unique position has helped us achieve some pretty amazing things. We have worked with Latinx leaders to grow as environmental activists through our Protégete program, we convened an unprecedented coalition of climate groups, and we’ve passed nationally-leading climate legislation in the past few years. 

When it comes down to it, the thing I think about most in this work is the world we’re leaving for our kids. They see the wildfires, the record number of hot days, the air quality problems, the oil and gas development. On the one hand, it’s so sad and intense that they’re dealing with this. But on the other hand, I know they’re motivated to actually address these issues. So am I. We owe it to them to fight for our future now.