Casting Lines and Breaking Barriers: Women Redefining Fishing

Creating global change by empowering women through fishing.

Woman holding a fish she caught offshore fishing in Rhode Island, USA. Courtesy of Take Me Fishing. 

Many of us have nostalgic memories of learning to fish with our grandparents. They took us to the pond, put the bait on our hook, and gave us our first casting lesson. However, there is a noticeable disparity between male and female children who continue their fishing experiences. According to a study by The Recreational Boating & Fishing Foundation (RBFF), only 19% of female anglers between the ages of 13-17 continue fishing after age 12 opposed to 30% of their male counterparts. Additionally, the RBFF found that only 19% of women “see themselves” represented in the fishing industry. As of 2024, 37% of all anglers in the United States are female-identifying—the highest number on record.

In August 2024, I proudly joined those numbers. I was lucky enough to accompany a crew of fisherwomen on an excursion with Take Me Fishing (TMF) in Rhode Island. TMF is a nonprofit that creates opportunities to introduce women to fishing by providing resources and hosting educational events.

My time on the water was spent learning the ropes of offshore and flyfishing. After cruising ten nautical miles out to sea to try my hand at offshore fishing, I learned some valuable lessons in resilience. Admittedly, I spent a good portion of the day leaning across the vessel, seasick. However, the excitement and upbeat spirit of other eager fisherwomen made it all worth it. By the end of the day, I could confidently set up my own pole, bait a hook, and even handle some of the gnarly-looking sea creatures we caught.

The next day, I swapped my action rod for a fly rod. With instruction from a kind guide, I began getting the hang of flyfishing's active nature. Mimicking the motions of an insect on the water, there was something both peaceful and powerful about handling a rod. I felt I truly could have spent days out on the shore. When it was time to pack up, I realized I could easily see flyfishing becoming a regular part of my life.

After two days on the water, I felt more confident and mentally rested than I had in weeks.

A young girl fishing in Rhode Island. Courtesy of Take Me Fishing.

Studies provided by the RBFF found that female anglers were 25% more likely to feel that they were in good health than non-anglers. Additionally, 1 in 5 women anglers believed that fishing has allowed them to accomplish anything they put their mind to. Women being excluded from traditionally male-dominated sports has a direct effect on their health and confidence. Nonprofit organizations like Take Me Fishing help to bridge this gap by offering inclusive fishing opportunities for those new to the sport. 

Women on a fishing boat in Rhode Island. Courtesy of Take Me Fishing. 

It would be remiss to ignore the fishing disparity between races. Of the 57.7 million Americans who went fishing in 2023, only 5.2 million identified themselves as Black and 6.3 million as Hispanic. 

While these numbers are pulled from data taken within the United States, the lessons are transferable worldwide. Women experience inequality in sports around the world. Having personally experienced the immediate benefits of fishing as a woman, I can attest that getting young girls and women out on the water can have a lasting effect on our world. When organizations work to bring opportunities and awareness to these communities, it will help create change on a global scale.

To Get Involved:

Take Me Fishing provides fishing opportunities and events throughout the United States. Further resources can be found with the Recreational Boating & Fishing Foundation, Outdoor Foundation and Sports Fishing Restoration.


Cait Kontalis

Cait is a Chicago-based Greek-American but spends most of her year floating around the globe. She holds a B.A. in Communications and a M.A. in Nonprofit Management. Her favorite destinations include visiting her homeland in Greece and the Black Hills of South Dakota. Cait is also a powderhound, taking to ski slopes in the Rocky Mountains and around the globe.

Stopping AAPI Hate: Checking in on the Lead Asian Hate Prevention Group

With Anti-Asian hate on the rise, see what Stop AAPI Hate is doing to combat it and how you can help.

A Stop Asian Hate demonstration in Washington, DC. Elvert Barnes. CC BY 2.0

In the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic, the United States saw a dramatic increase in anti-Asian hate crimes and attacks. According to the FBI’s data reports, the number of recorded hate crimes exploded to 424 in 2020, up almost 175% from 2019. A survey by the Pew Research Center showed 1 in 3 Asian Americans knew someone who had been attacked or threatened because of their race. Many believed that Sinophobic rumors placing the origin of the COVID-19 virus in China fueled this sharp increase in violence.

Out of this crisis arose the organization Stop AAPI Hate. Initially meant to document anti-Asian hate in the US, Stop AAPI Hate has become a full-fledged advocacy group. The organization has several ongoing campaigns, such as the wildly successful No Place for Hate movement. The group also advocates for policy changes (such as a law in California that aims to prevent harassment on public transit), working to strengthen civil rights protections across the board. In 2023, Stop AAPI Hate fought to stop a potential Texas law that would prevent AAPI (Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders) immigrants from purchasing houses.

More recently, Stop AAPI Hate has moved towards bolstering the confidence and security of AAPIs across the country. In May 2024, a national survey by the organization showed the value of pride and supportive narratives in combating the fear spread by hate crimes. In response to this data, Stop AAPI Hate has announced a new program, Spread AAPI Love, which aims to foster supportive and celebratory connections between AAPIs across the country.

Stop AAPI Hate’s progress has been somewhat restricted by a seemingly unending rise in anti-Asian hate. The organization’s annual survey this year revealed that almost half of all AAPIs in the US were subject to some form of racism or hate. In 2024, there have been a number of reports documenting anti-Asian violence. In February, a man assaulted a Filipino woman on the street in New York. In April, a Massachusetts man ran over a Vietnamese man with his car. In August, a 26-year-old Korean girl calling for medical assistance was instead shot dead by police. The government has acknowledged these crimes and the systems preventing them from being properly reported, but bureaucracy has prevented true justice.

Stop AAPI Hate is doing its best to call attention to these cases as instances of anti-Asian violence continue to rise since the COVID-19 pandemic. Although they have made great progress, their mission is far from complete.

How You Can Help

Stop AAPI Hate is always accepting donations and support, both in general and for their specific campaigns. Many other organizations also dedicate themselves to stopping the spread of hate, including Asian Americans Advancing Justice, Red Canary Song, and the National Asian Pacific American Women’s Forum.


Ryan Livingston

Ryan is a senior at The College of New Jersey, majoring in English and minoring in marketing. Since a young age, Ryan has been passionate about human rights and environmental action and uses his writing to educate wherever he can. He hopes to pursue a career in professional writing and spread his message even further.

Long, Strange Trip: Psychedelic Drug Use and Legalization

With psychedelic drug reform still underway, research indicates that microdosing may be useful for medical and therapeutic treatment.

Capitol Records Cover. Daniel Yanes Arroyo on Flickr. CC BY-NC 2.0

In the 1960s, psychedelic drugs became central to counter cultural identity, as they were believed to expand human consciousness and helped inspire the era’s writing, art and music scene. Their acceptance only went so far, however, the war on drugs led to the ban of psychedelic drug use in 1968. These drugs include psilocybin mushrooms (magic mushrooms), MDMA (ecstasy, molly), and LSD (acid). But recent studies show that psilocybin may be used to treat alcohol and tobacco dependence, as well as mood disorders like anxiety, depression and OCD. The U.S. Food and Drug Administration has already declared psilocybin as a “breakthrough therapy,” with growing evidence for its efficacy in treating cases of depression that have proven resistant to psychotherapy and traditional antidepressants.

Psilocybin mushrooms. Mushroom Observer on Wikipedia Commons. CC BY-SA 3.0

Some argue that the legalization of psychedelic drugs would be positive, with regulated companies outcompeting the black market and manufacturing safer drugs (e.g., there would be little risk of products being laced with fentanyl). The status of drug policy reform varies across the U.S. Some states—including Washington, Texas and Connecticut—are actively studying the medical effects of psilocybin. In California, several cities, including Oakland, Santa Cruz, Arcata, Berkeley and San Francisco, have already passed resolutions to decriminalize the possession of psychedelic drugs, excluding peyote. The use of peyote in Native American ceremonies and sacraments is protected under the First Amendment of the Constitution as a form of Free Exercise of Religion. Despite this, the supply of Peyote is severely limited, to the point of being listed as vulnerable to extinction on the IUCN Red List. In several states, including New York, Florida and Utah, legislators have introduced bills to legalize psilocybin for clinical use that ultimately failed to pass. Psychedelic drugs remain illegal under the Controlled Substances Act at the federal level in the U.S. 

Legislation varies even more worldwide, but many countries have less stringent laws than the United States. In Australia, MDMA and psilocybin may be prescribed for PTSD for depression. In the Bahamas and British Virgin Islands, psilocybin is legal to possess but not to sell. In Mexico, citizens cannot be prosecuted or charged if psilocybin is used for spiritual or religious purposes. Most of Europe has either decriminalized or deregulated aspects of the use or trade of psychedelic drugs, including countries like Portugal, Spain, the Netherlands, and Switzerland. The definition of “decriminalization” varies, but usually implies that one can possess a certain amount of a substance avoiding fines or other penalties, despite it being illegal.

While concerns regarding the safety of psychedelic drugs are and will continue to be raised, statistics show that emergency room visits related to psilocybin and LSD are infrequent. Legalizing psychedelic drugs would signify for advocates a stride toward personal autonomy, enabling individuals to make informed choices about what they put in their bodies. This shift mirrors a growing global interest in investigating the therapeutic and medical potential of psilocybin, prompting a reevaluation of 20th century policies.


Agnes Moser Volland

Agnes is a student at UC Berkeley majoring in Interdisciplinary Studies and minoring in Creative Writing, with a research focus on road trip culture in America. She currently writes for BARE Magazine and Caravan Travel & Style Magazine. She is working on a novel that follows two sisters as they road trip down Highway 40, from California to Oklahoma. In the future, she hopes to pursue a career in journalism, publishing, or research.

Become an Artist-in-Residence at a National Park

Writers, painters and musicians can receive a stipend to create in some of the most majestic landscapes in the US.

Woman painting outdoors. Caroline Veronez. Unsplash

There is a long-running debate over whether to preserve the natural beauty of western landscapes or exploit them. The Artist-in-Residence program many national parks are now offering serves as a compromise, honoring these landscapes and giving back to the parks once inhabited by native tribes. This program provides writers, painters, musicians and other artists the chance to refine their art in some of the country’s most scenic landscapes. Selected artists live in the park and receive a stipend, as well as coverage for food and travel expenses. The stipends can reach up to $5,000, with half of it usually given at the start of the program and half at the end. The program lengths vary, but typically last between two to four weeks. These residencies are inclusive, welcoming artists of all backgrounds and ages (although only legal adults may submit applications). Each artist's primary task is to create art inspired by their natural surroundings and—upon completion of their residency—donate a piece of their work to the park.

Mount Rainier National Park. Lily M. Tang. CC BY-NC-ND 3.0

Artist-in-Residence programs welcome unique projects. Felix, a musician, served as the 2021 Artist-in-Residence at Canaveral National Seashore. His project, Listeners, was a collaborative sonic experience, capturing the park’s soundscape through contributions from people who live, work and visit there. Casey, a food writer, served as the 2022 Artist-in-Residence at Acadia National Park. She released a recipe book, Maine Ingredients: Recipes Inspired by Acadia National Park, crafting dishes using local ingredients and traditional regional cuisine.

These programs give artists the chance to immerse themselves in natural landscapes, gaining insight into the indigenous peoples who occupied western landscapes before us and learning about how their legacies live on today. While some view national parks as a byproduct of white settlement, the Artist-in-Residence program forces us to consider how we can shift the narrative, redirect the focus back onto their original inhabitants. The submission window for applicants is open during the summer, so act now! Keep in mind acceptance rates vary based on the park’s popularity. Check out NPAR openings here.


Agnes Moser Volland

Agnes is a student at UC Berkeley majoring in Interdisciplinary Studies and minoring in Creative Writing, with a research focus on road trip culture in America. She currently writes for BARE Magazine and Caravan Travel & Style Magazine. She is working on a novel that follows two sisters as they road trip down Highway 40, from California to Oklahoma. In the future, she hopes to pursue a career in journalism, publishing, or research.

Summer Road Trip to the Tetons and Yellowstone

From experiencing geysers, to hot springs to glacial lakes, this is an adventurous road trip that offers exceptional and unique camping lodging. 

Gros Ventre Road. Mike Goad. CC0 1.0

Grand Teton and Yellowstone are neighboring National Parks celebrated for their rich biodiversity, particularly vibrant during the summer months. A scenic drive through both parks typically spans about a week, allowing time to explore key attractions along the route. Yellowstone National Park is renowned for its geothermal vents, pine tree forests and grasslands, while Grand Teton National Park is known for its rugged landscape, including lush fields and U-shaped valleys. For those planning a summer road trip to Wyoming, here are the top attractions, hiking trails and campgrounds in the Tetons and Yellowstone.

Attractions

Norris Geyser Basin boardwalk. Yellowstone National Park. PDM 1.0

Norris Geyser Basin, the hottest geyser basin in Yellowstone, erupts every 20 to 80 minutes. A 1.8-mile loop trail, accessible via a boardwalk, offers views of steaming blue pools, and bison are sometimes spotted in the area. Notably, it features the Steamboat Geyser, the world's largest active geyser, known to reach heights of up to 380 feet. 

Side note: for visitors road tripping through the Tetons and Yellowstone, I recommend purchasing the $80 America the Beautiful pass, granting access to attractions in all National Parks.

Grand Prismatic Spring. James St. John. CC BY 2.0

Yellowstone’s Grand Prismatic Spring, the largest hot spring in the United States, is celebrated for its vibrant colors—a teal blue pool with bands of orange and yellow. For a viewpoint overlooking the spring, follow the 0.5-mile Fairy Falls trail.

Old Faithful Geyser. National Parks Gallery. PDM 1.0

Old Faithful Geyser erupts regularly, every forty minutes to two hours. Located in West Yellowstone near the Old Faithful Inn, the 0.7-mile loop trail offers convenient access to the geyser.

Jackson Lake. Diana Robinson. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Jackson Lake is a glacial lake known for its clear, icy water, surrounded by snow-capped mountains. Colter Bay picnic area and beach provide opportunities for fishing, boating and polar plunging. The Colter Bay campground is convenient for water enthusiasts and is the largest campground in the Tetons.

Hikes

Fairy Falls. Rudy Wilms. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

For outdoors lovers, there are can’t-miss hikes in both parks. In Yellowstone, the Fairy Falls trail is an easier, flatter route, a 1.6-mile hike to a waterfall surrounded by lush greenery. A little longer, Mystic Falls is a 2.4-mile hike to a cascade-type waterfall. Pelican Valley is a 6.2-mile hike, providing a quieter, less touristy experience through serene meadows. In the Tetons, Cascade Canyon is a 9.1-mile out-and-back trail to a glacier-formed canyon, with wildflowers that are most vibrant during spring and summer months. It’s a more strenuous hike, so less experienced trekkers may opt for the Cascade Canyon Express to experience panoramic views of the area.

Campgrounds

Canyon campground site. Yellowstone National Park. PDM 1.0

In Yellowstone, both Madison campground and Canyon campground are centrally located. Madison is close to the Old Faithful area and Madison River, while Canyon is near the Geyser Basins. Canyon campground arguably has more privacy, mostly due to the shade from pine trees.

In the Tetons, Jenny Lake campground is next to the scenic Jenny Lake, providing expansive views of snow-peaked mountains.

Yellowstone is recognized by the National Park Service as one of the planet's last and largest natural ecosystems. The Tetons, often overshadowed by Yellowstone, are just as worth visiting. Experience the unbeatable views, attractions and trails of Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks on a road trip this summer.


Agnes Volland

Agnes is a student at UC Berkeley majoring in Interdisciplinary Studies and minoring in Creative Writing, with a research focus on road trip culture in America. She currently writes for BARE Magazine and Caravan Travel & Style Magazine. She is working on a novel that follows two sisters as they road trip down Highway 40, from California to Oklahoma. In the future, she hopes to pursue a career in journalism, publishing, or research.

Climate Change on Trial: Vermont Passes Climate Reparations Bill

After historic flooding, Vermont calls for “Big Oil” to pay its share of the damages.

The Great Vermont Flood of 2023 in Montpelier, Vermont. The National Guard, CC BY-SA 2.0

Climate change has become a serious issue across the globe. Freak weather events, increased global temperatures and glacial melt, among other crises, have made it almost impossible to ignore. And for residents in one state, climate change has come right to their doors for what lawmakers intend to make the last time.

Vermont suffered severe flooding during the summer of 2023—the water completely submerged parking meters in the capital city of Montpelier. Thousands of residents lost cars, homes and businesses. According to the National Weather Service, the damages from this event alone rivaled—and even exceeded—the damage caused by Hurricane Irene back in 2011.

Now, the state government has passed a bill forcing fossil fuel companies to pay for a portion of the damages caused by climate change. Vermont is now the first state in the Union to take these organizations to task for externalities caused by fossil fuel emissions. According to the bill, the Agency of Natural Resources will create a report by 2026 that estimates the cost of climate change-based damage since 1995. This will examine aspects such as public health, agriculture and economic development.

The bill has been lauded for its progressive approach to climate justice, as holding companies accountable for pollution is, perhaps unsurprisingly, very widely supported. However, several Vermont politicians have also expressed concern over what will surely turn into a knock-down, drag-out legal battle come the report’s publication.

This bill marks a huge turning point in the climate justice movement. Although the legal battle has yet to begin, the precedent set by this bill is groundbreaking. The federal government has taken little serious action toward climate change reparations, as they are a divisive issue on a national level. Some consider the process to have very little legal basis, which naturally spawns skepticism that the legislation can actually be enforced.

However, regardless of how the bill has been received, the progress here is undeniable. There’s something to be said for the power of precedent in legal situations. Reparations have been divisive in the court system on account of being largely untested in a legal setting. Most court cases on a federal level are decided largely based on the results of similar cases in the past. Much of the heel-dragging over climate change, then, can be explained by how new and untested many of these legal approaches are.

It’s far more difficult to pass a bill at the federal level than the state, especially when trying to attack such an inflammatory issue. That said, states taking action—successful or not—could begin to wear down that resistance. If Vermont manages to extract reparations from the targeted companies, other states may follow suit. With enough states unified towards climate reparations, the federal government may be forced to take a stance. It likely won’t be for some time, but Vermont’s actions now are potentially paving the way for a massive shift in the governmental response to climate change in future years.


Ryan Livingston

Ryan is a senior at The College of New Jersey, majoring in English and minoring in marketing. Since a young age, Ryan has been passionate about human rights and environmental action and uses his writing to educate wherever he can. He hopes to pursue a career in professional writing and spread his message even further.

Whale Watching in Washington State in the San Juan Islands

Experience a beautiful archipelago off the coast of Washington State that’s bursting with natural splendor

The coast of Orca Island in the San Juan Islands. Bureau of Land Management, CC0

Only an hour and a half by ferry from the coast of Seattle, Washington, the San Juan Islands are an incredible destination for any wilderness-seeking wanderers. After only a week, I’d seen dozens of whales and porpoises, and explored miles of the main island both on foot and by bicycle. My friends and I still consider this one of our greatest trips! From whale watching and sea kayaking to hiking and ziplining, these islands provide the perfect “surf-and-turf” nature experience.

The small archipelago is by far most famous for its local orca pods. A rarity in American waters, the Northwest's Gulf of Georgia boasts three local pods that feed primarily on salmon, as well as a traveling pod from Canada that feeds on the local harbor seal population. In addition to the orcas, a wide variety of marine mammals can be spotted both along the shoreline and out in the heart of the Gulf. On our first whale watching tour from the main island my companions and I saw humpback whales, Steller sea lions and a variety of dolphins and porpoises keeping pace with our boat.

The archipelago is made up of four main bodies of land: San Juan, Orcas Island, Lopez Island, and Shaw Island. The first, San Juan, is the largest and most visited island in the chain, and is home to the beautiful town of Friday Harbor. In addition to being the ferry’s main landing point and the heart of the archipelago itself, Friday Harbor is the main hotspot for whale watching tours. The guides provide an excellent experience; ours taught us all about the native marine animals and the history of the islands. We spent most of our time on San Juan during our tour, hiking across the hilly terrain to the south for some amazing views.

A view of Friday Harbor from the balcony of a local restaurant. Image from author. Ryan Livingston

But perhaps the best thing about Friday Harbor is the locals. In particular a harbor seal named Popeye, who likes to spend her mornings floating outside of the dockside restaurants in the hopes of getting some handouts. She’s very friendly, and has become something of a mascot for Friday Harbor!

San Juan is also the site of Lime Kiln Point State Park, which is lauded as one of the best whale watching sites in the world. The park is also a hangout spot for the river otter population around the islands. Lime Kiln Point is also an excellent hiking spot, with a trail leading up to a vintage lighthouse that is the park’s main landmark. This lighthouse provides an excellent view of most of the Gulf.

On the latter half of our trip, my friends and I paid Orcas Island a visit. Known for its rich artistic history, it is known locally as the “Gem of the San Juans.” The coastal towns include a variety of sailing, fishing and whale watching charters, as well as a few sea kayaking companies that give tours of the island and its history. With their friendly and informative tour guides, you’ll wind up learning about everything from jellyfish to the islands’ border disputes back in 1949! Orcas Island is also the site of Moran State Park, an excellent site for hiking, biking, camping and boating on the small lakes situated across the landscape.

The other two islands are well worth visiting, although I wound up spending all of my time on San Juan and Orcas. Lopez Island is by far the least hilly of the four, and as a result has been adapted into a fantastic biking location. With trails all over the island and tons of rental shops to choose from, Lopez is the biker’s dream. In addition, for any eco-minded travelers, a visit to Lopez Island can include a variety of volunteer opportunities, including trash pickup, injured and beached animal rescue training and more.

Finally, we have Shaw, the smallest island in the archipelago and home to the one-of-a-kind Our Lady of the Rock Monastery. Built on living in the same traditional lifestyle as its founders, the nuns tend a sprawling farm that, like the monastery itself, is open to the public. Although it does offer worship sessions, the architecture and rich history are reason enough to visit.

Whether you’re looking for an escape into nature or searching for the elusive mammals of the sea, the San Juan Islands are a uniquely beautiful experience. The best times to visit are between May and August, when the salmon runs are at their highest and orca and porpoise sightings are the most common. Whale watching tours can be booked out of any of the four islands at places like San Juan Excursions, and hotel bookings can range from $157 to around $300 a night in the heart of Friday Harbor. Camping in the various state parks is also an excellent option.


Ryan Livingston

Ryan is a senior at The College of New Jersey, majoring in English and minoring in marketing. Since a young age, Ryan has been passionate about human rights and environmental action and uses his writing to educate wherever he can. He hopes to pursue a career in professional writing and spread his message even further.

Confronting Houselessness Crisis Worldwide

With the 2023 Supreme Court case of City of Grants Pass, Oregon v. Gloria Johnson circulating the headlines and threatening the rights of 653,104 unhoused people in the United States, understanding how other countries are addressing the issue of houselessness can help provide perspective.

A person sits on a bench with their belongings. Grego. CC0 1.0

In 2020, the world denied an estimated 1.6 billion people the human right to adequate housing. Societies often stigmatize houselessness, leading to discrimination against unhoused people. This stigma often contributes to the criminalization of houselessness. 

Houselessness is criminalized when laws can punish people for partaking in life-sustaining activities in public spaces. Examples of these laws include prohibitions on panhandling or allowing the confiscation of personal property, often referred to as “sweeping.” 

The Supreme Court's decision in the City of Grants Pass, Oregon v. Gloria Johnson case will determine whether it is constitutional for states to fine or arrest people for sleeping outside, even when adequate shelter is unavailable. This comes at a time when houselessness is on the rise across the U.S., with a 12 percent increase between 2022 and 2023. Los Angeles and New York City are home to about a quarter of America's unhoused population. 

In the U.S., houselessness is a highly politicized issue. The 2020 Democratic platform endorsed a Housing First policy that prioritizes accessible permanent housing, stating that, “Having a stable and safe place to live is essential to helping a person tackle any other challenges.” In contrast, Republicans on the Joint Economic Committee released a report in 2022 criticizing Housing First policy for failing to “to address deeper problems that often drive homelessness”. The lawmakers proposed that Housing First policy be replaced with policy that prioritizes health and employment resources. The debate over solutions persists as houseless populations rise.

The City of Grants Pass, Oregon v. Gloria Johnson case is not the first time laws explicitly criminalizing houselessness have been on the global radar. In 2018, Hungary enacted a new constitutional provision that put houseless people sleeping in public spaces at risk of fines or arrest. Since the passage of this law, the number of houseless people in Hungary has not changed, with an estimated 30,000 houseless people in both 2018 and 2024

Hungary is far from the only country to combat houselessness with criminalization. Many governments have turned to this strategy, from the forced institutionalization of houseless children in Brazil to laws authorizing the arrest of people loitering in Sierra Leone and Nigeria. 

Other countries have taken a different route in tackling this crisis by increasing accessible housing and resources. Finland’s Housing First Policy focuses on providing people with housing and addressing underlying conditions and factors contributing to their houselessness. Since the Housing First policy began in 2008, the number of long-term houseless people in Finland decreased by more than 35 percent. Some policies combine punitive and welfare measures. The government in Tokyo, Japan has combined these strategies by punishing people for residing in public spaces while redirecting them to welfare resources.

Beyond policy, technological innovations present potential solutions for this issue. In India, Tvasta Manufacturing Solutions collaborated with Habitat for Humanity to create 3D-printed homes. These homes can be built in five days or less, are about 30 percent cheaper than traditional construction and create less waste. The 3D-printed homes industry is now present across the globe from Africa to Mexico

Beyond the world of policy and technology, everyday people can directly take action to help address houselessness. Destigmatization is an important step in addressing this issue. Experts recommend advocacy and creating public education campaigns to help people understand and empathize with unhoused people. Attending educational opportunities such as events hosted by the UN Working Group to End Homelessness is a great way to learn and engage with people fighting for the right to adequate housing.

For those looking to make an impact on a local scale, there are many volunteering opportunities with organizations such as CaringWorks or the National Coalition for the Homeless. With an estimated 1.6 billion people expected to be impacted by the housing crisis in 2025 and an estimated two billion people fearing climate-related displacement, the time to act is now.


Madison Paulus

Madison is a student at George Washington University studying international affairs, journalism, mass communication, and Arabic. Born and raised in Seattle, Washington, Madison grew up in a creative, open-minded environment. With passions for human rights and social justice, Madison uses her writing skills to educate and advocate. In the future, Madison hopes to pursue a career in science communication or travel journalism.

The Ethics of Kelp Farming in Alaska

From food, medicine, climate mitigation and preserving Indigenous traditions, kelp is the shape shifting superhero a polluted world needs.

Kelp with sardines. National Ocean Service. CC By 2.0.

Ethereal and elusive, an unconventional forest grows in the ocean—not full of trees, but of kelp. These captivating, yet occasionally uninviting, greenish tendrils are classified as a type of brown algae that grow as coastal seaweeds; they are typically found in colder waters. In a way, the ethereal kelp borders on the mystical and magical. Kelp is a shapeshifter; a veritable phenomenon that can morph into a variety of forms. Kelp can be used as biofuel, an eco-friendly alternative to fossil fuels derived from renewable biological materials. This multi-talented algae can also be used to make utensils, soap and clothing as well as food—all manner of products people use in their daily lives. 

Beyond biofuel, food and everyday household items, the production and usage of kelp is a key debate amongst climate scientists and environmentalists alike. Farming kelp could be a solution in mitigating negative effects of climate change; it could also bolster coastal locations’ economies and positively affect the livelihoods of communities living in and around these shores. But, on the other hand, farming kelp is also fraught with bureaucratic convolutions and, in the long run, could potentially backfire and end up re-polluting oceans. In short, the implications of kelp farming are complex; they are enigmatic and double-edged, much like the kelp itself.

Alaskan Company Barnacle Foods’ Kelp Products. Josephine S. CC By 2.0.

The Eyak People of Alaska—and particularly one Dune Lankard—understand kelp farming. Lankard is the co-founder of The Eyak Preservation Council as well as the President and Founder of Native Conservancy, both of which are groups that support Alaska Native peoples’ efforts in preserving and conserving land and biodiversity on the Alaskan Coastline. People in Alaska and beyond have begun to farm kelp because of commercial, food security and climate change mitigation possibilities. And, because of its optimal climatic conditions, Alaska has become a hotspot for kelp farming.

But why is kelp—this mysterious, gangly sept of seaweed—so valuable and beneficial for the environment? For humans consuming kelp, the benefits lie within its nutritional content: kelp contains calcium, magnesium, iron, vitamin C and potassium. But, perhaps more importantly, people like Dune Lankard and fellow Alaskan kelp farmers are more concerned with kelp’s ability to mitigate climate change. Kelp’s primary ability to mitigate climate change comes from its ability to sequester carbon dioxide. You may have heard of carbon dioxide because it is a greenhouse gas. But, what you might not know, is that carbon dioxide from the atmosphere can also enter the ocean, resulting in a mechanism called ocean acidification.

pH reference scale — Ocean Acidification lowers pH. Heinrich-Böll-Stiftung. CC by 2.0.

As more carbon dioxide enters the ocean and gets absorbed, the pH of the ocean itself decreases, meaning the ocean becomes more acidic. But, this is where Kelp the superhero rushes in and saves the marine phyla. Kelp require carbon to grow because of photosynthesis—they absorb sunlight as well as carbon dioxide to produce the sugar and oxygen they need to live—and, through their uptake of carbon, they leave oceans less acidic and marine organisms more happy. Additionally, when kelp float out to sea and die, sinking deep beneath the surface of the water, their carbon sinks into the depths along with them
Perhaps it makes sense that kelp, with its bewitching appearance, could be responsible for such intricate—almost magical—climate processes. While there are over 500 species of seaweed in Alaska, the three most-commonly grown species are bull kelp, sugar kelp and ribbon kelp. Bull kelp is strong, almost proud-looking—its thick stalk beholds a sense of authority in the water. Sugar kelp, on the other hand, is more delicately enchanting—its slightly-curled, yellow blades are like rays of sunlight spattering the sea. Ribbon kelp, with its thick spine and greenish appearance, are more reminiscent of a looming forest, or the shifting of willows in the wind.

Bull kelp bulb. James St. John. CC By 2.0.

These kelp, however, represent more than just their life cycle, climate mitigation abilities and appearance. Historically, the Eyak people—located on the Copper River Delta near Cordova, Alaska—have long used kelp for food, medicine and even tools. But, through colonialism and imperialism, some of these traditions were disrupted over decades. Today, however, the Eyak and other Indigenous peoples’ kelp farming has allowed them to reclaim these traditions. Additionally, there are immense economic benefits for any employees involved in kelp farming. The fall-to-spring growth cycle of kelp, as well as the need for regular visitation and observation of kelp farms, offer both seasonal and year-round employment opportunities. The increasing amount of kelp farms subsequently increases the number of job opportunities in Alaska, bolstering the state’s economy. Although mariculture in Alaska is currently a $1.5 million dollar industry, newly awarded $45 million in grants could potentially grow it to more than $1.85 billion in 10 years. 

Kelp farming and consumption, however, is not all sunshine and rainbows. One of the most difficult aspects of kelp farming is getting started in the first place—a kelp farm requires a permit. Most states require multi-step permit application through boards of aquaculture as well as departments of fish, wildlife and game. Luckily, on average Alaska has a lower permit processing time than most states. Beyond the bureaucratic complexities of even getting started, there are also questions being raised by environmental and climate scientists about the future of kelp farming. Although—as is outlined above—kelp farming is believed to help ocean acidification through carbon sequestration, some scientists are questioning the ability for kelp to continue to sequester carbon as ocean temperatures warm as a result of climate change.
While people should be mindful of the ambiguous future of kelp farming, for now it is safe to say that the more immediate outcomes of farming are helping kelp maintain a positive reputation. Kelp—delicate and mysteriously distant—is, in actuality, an aid toward a variety of more tangible, positive outcomes. Kelp is food. Kelp is medicine. Kelp can even represent community and prosperity. Of course, kelp can also be a huge factor in sequestering carbon in a post-industrial society. But, for many people, these scientific processes can feel overwhelming or unimportant simply because they seem intangible. This is why the effects of kelp that people can really see and feel—the sense of community, the positive economic impacts and the reclamation of tradition—are something to celebrate. Despite its unconventionality and elusivity, kelp can be a superhero.


Carina Cole

Carina Cole is a Media Studies student with a Correlate in Creative Writing at Vassar College. She is an avid journalist and occasional flash fiction writer. Her passion for writing overlaps with environmentalism, feminism, social justice, and a desire to travel beyond the United States. When she’s not writing, you can find her meticulously curating playlists or picking up a paintbrush.

Oppenheimer’s Critical Omission: The Relocation of Hispanic and Indigenous Populations

Intricate but incomplete, Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer disregards the true history of Hispanic and Indigenous populations in New Mexico.

Trinity Nuclear Test. U.S. National Archives and Records Administration. CC0.

A picturesque aquamarine sky hangs lazily above a dusty, deserted New Mexico landscape. Through a tangle of brush, a lanky Robert Oppenheimer, played by Irish actor Cillian Murphy, emerges on horseback. His eyes feast on the remote plains and he declares that besides a local boys’ school and “Indian” burial grounds, Los Alamos will be the perfect site to construct the world’s first atomic weapons.

These momentous decisions and moral quandaries are explored in Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer. Grossing $450 million in its first fourteen days at the box office, the 1940s period piece has cemented itself as a somewhat unlikely cultural icon. Gone are the days of Nolan’s slightly fantastical films — notably Inception (2010) and Interstellar (2014). Recently, the Academy Award-nominated director has been dipping his toes in the realism of period pieces, beginning with Dunkirk (2017) and continuing with Oppenheimer.
Nolan’s portrayal of Oppenheimer — based on the biography American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer by Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin — is deliberately layered. The audience travels alongside Oppenheimer over the course of his life for three hours. On one hand, Oppenheimer’s humanity is a gut punch: viewers experience his mistress’s death, his tumultuous marriage, and his gradual realization of the death and destruction his scientific creation has wrought. On the other, viewers gaze upon the physicist with disgust: the man was, as he infamously declared himself, a destroyer of worlds.

J. Robert Oppenheimer. U.S. National Archives and Records Administration. CC0.

The use of the first atomic bomb by the United States to defeat Japan and win World War II is one of the signal events of the modern era, arguably helping to prevent a land invasion of Japan that could have killed millions. Despite the magnitude of this technical and geopolitical accomplishment, the legacy of the destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki will forever cast a negative light on the United States government and the team of nuclear physicists involved in the development of the atomic bomb. While Nolan acknowledges this complex legacy, his portrayal of key elements of the Manhattan Project and the Los Alamos Laboratory obscures another historical moral quandary. The remote sandy vistas in Nolan’s cinematography smother the true story of Los Alamos and the Trinity nuclear test.

The reality, omitted from Nolan’s film, is that during the Manhattan Project the U.S. Government forcibly relocated Indigenous and Hispanic populations that resided in Los Alamos, New Mexico. Contrary to the movie’s dialogue, there were two dozen homesteaders and a ranch occupying the land that was taken by the government for the project, in addition to the school mentioned by Oppenheimer. The government seized the land and offered the owners compensation based on an appraisal of the land — an amount of compensation that the government itself thought was fit. Some homesteaders, however, objected to the compensation offered by the government, considering it far too little. Many in the Federal Government would eventually come to agree with them; in 2004, decades after the original compensation, Congress established a $10 million fund to pay back the homesteaders. 
Moreover, it was difficult for the homesteaders to object in the first place due to the language barrier. Most homesteaders spoke Spanish, while government officials often only communicated in English. Some families were even held at gunpoint as they were forced to leave with no explanation, due to the project’s secrecy. Livestock and other animals on property were shot or let loose. Livelihoods were destroyed along with these animals.

Los Alamos Colloquium of Physicists. Los Alamos National Laboratory. CC0.

The element of secrecy surrounding the Manhattan Project and the Trinity nuclear test disrupted the lives of families living directly on Los Alamos land. But, for the 13,000 New Mexicans living within a fifty mile radius of the Trinity test (in Jornada del Muerto, New Mexico), the nuclear explosion truly seemed to be the end of the world. Because the mushroom cloud was visible from up to 200 miles away from the test site, and no civilians knew tests were being conducted, fear erupted in concert with the explosion. 

Nolan’s film not only fails to indicate that homesteaders on Los Alamos were forcibly relocated — it also fails to mention that civilians from northern to southern New Mexico were exposed to harmful radiation from the bomb. Radioactive fallout initially contaminated water and livestock, and in turn, civilians. There were no studies or treatment conducted on individuals exposed to radiation, which could have exposed the highly classified program. Those who were in the radius or downwind of the fallout became known as “downwinders,” and began to develop autoimmune diseases, chronic illness and cancer. 

Manhattan Project U.S. Map. Wikimedia Commons. CC by 3.0.

Eventually, the Hispanic American and Indigenous populations who lived in the area returned to Los Alamos to work for the project without knowing its true nature or extent. They returned as maids or as construction workers, often handling radioactive and contaminated materials without knowledge of the harm and risk of exposure. Many became economically dependent on a laboratory that posed environmental and health risks for the greater Los Alamos population. This led to struggles with physical and mental health that have continued to the present time. 

The legacy of the Manhattan Project, the Los Alamos Laboratory and the Trinity nuclear test hangs in a state of limbo. It transcends time — becoming the past, present and future for Hispanic and Indigenous populations in New Mexico. Nolan’s failure to acknowledge these populations’ displacement and unwitting contamination silences their narratives and obscures this unique patrimony. J. Robert Oppenheimer’s depiction as a thumbtack in sandy nothingness is historically inaccurate — Nolan’s cinematic depiction of desolation glosses over a more complex reality. Los Alamos was, and is, living and breathing.


Carina Cole

Carina Cole is a Media Studies student with a Correlate in Creative Writing at Vassar College. She is an avid journalist and occasional flash fiction writer. Her passion for writing overlaps with environmentalism, feminism, social justice, and a desire to travel beyond the United States. When she’s not writing, you can find her meticulously curating playlists or picking up a paintbrush.

Frozen Glory: Inside the Eskimo-Indian Olympics

From cultural preservation to sheer athletic spectacle, the World Eskimo-Indian Olympics are a highlight of the Native Alaskan calendar.

An athlete competes in the blanket toss event at the WEIO. KNOM Radio. CC BY-SA 2.0

In the early 1960s, two non-Indigenous pilots who regularly made trips over Alaska’s rural communities kept observing the celebration of an interesting cultural event. This sporting event, as they later came to realize it was, dated back far beyond living memory and honored strength, resilience and endurance through a series of events meant to test the skills necessary to live in such an unforgiving environment. Given that Alaska had just recently become an American state in 1959, the early 60s saw the gradual encroachment of mainstream American culture into its more remote outlying communities, posing a serious threat to local traditions and practices. After the pilots shared their concerns with various groups in Fairbanks, the World Eskimo-Indian Olympics (WEIO) was officially born in 1961 and drew Native participants and spectators from around the Fairbanks area to participate on the banks of the Chena River.

The WEIO has grown significantly since then, with thousands of people traveling to watch the best of Alaska’s Indigenous athletes compete in the Big Dipper Ice Arena for four days each July. Aside from a minimum age limit of 12 years, there are no age categories for any of the events, which means that several generations of the same family can be seen competing against each other. It is also common for older and more experienced competitors to coach and advise the younger athletes during the competition: rather than trying to beat one’s opponents, the larger goal is to compete against and better oneself.

Athletes Sean O’Brien (left) and Chris Kalmakoff (right) compete in the Eskimo stick pull event. Erich Engman. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Many of the events, however, are still extremely competitive, and involve intimate face-offs between athletes. The Indian Stick Pull, for example, calls for athletes to wrench a short greased stick from their opponent, an event meant to replicate the grip strength necessary when trying to keep hold of a freshly caught fish by its tail. The Ear Pull is a contest of stamina to demonstrate the athletes’ ability to withstand pain, a valued trait in the often cruel conditions of the Alaskan North. In this event, string is looped around the opposite ears of two athletes as they face each other as they pull away in a tug-of-war with their ears until one cedes the match.

Other events are competed individually, but with just as much rigor and excitement. The Greased Pole Walk, as its name suggests, tests the balance needed for crossing creeks on slippery logs by having contestants walk as far as they can barefoot along a greased wooden pole. A favorite among both competitors and spectators alike, the Two-Foot High Kick requires competitors to jump vertically and kick a suspended ball with both feet before landing and maintaining their balance. Hundreds of years ago, villages along the coast would perform these kicks as a way to communicate to the village that a whale or some other game had been caught, and to prepare themselves to assist the hunters upon their return.

Athlete Ezra Elissoff competes in the Two-Foot High Kick final at the 2021 WEIO. Jeff Chen. CC BY-SA 2.0

Despite the popularity of basketball and ice hockey, the traditional sports seem to be gaining popularity among young children and teenagers, and are also contributing to the difficult task of preserving and passing on Native Alaskan culture. Miley Kakaruk, a 15-year-old athlete of the Inupiaq tribe of Northwestern Alaska, says that she imagines her ancestors competing in the same events centuries ago, vying to be chosen for their village’s next hunting party. Because each event is so heavily rooted in their history, younger competitors are able to learn the customs and stories that so heavily influence the culture and lifestyle of their people.

Equally important is the power of these games to forge a connection between athletes and society. Historically, studies have shown that Native Alaskans suffer from some of the highest rates of alcoholism and drug abuse in the US. A number of the people that the WEIO Board works with and recruits are young adults who are at risk of or actively battling addiction. According to Gina Kalloch, a board member and ex-athlete, discovering their culture through such a fondly practiced social tradition has allowed many of these people to develop a sense of pride in themselves and their culture, and helped to reorient their lives.

Native Alaskan women compete in the Miss WEIO Cultural Pageant alongside the athletic events each year. Danny Martin. CC BY-SA 2.0

While this year’s edition of the Olympics already took place between July 12 and 15, highlights of both the sporting events and the accompanying Miss WEIO Cultural Pageant are freely available on the internet.


Tanaya Vohra

Tanaya is an undergraduate student pursuing a major in Public Health at the University of Chicago. She's lived in Asia, Europe and North America and wants to share her love of travel and exploring new cultures through her writing.

Why You Should Visit the Makah Tribe on the Coast of Washington State

Visiting this region offers a unique opportunity to immerse yourself in a rich Indigenous culture that dates back thousands of years. 

View from Cape Flattery Bluff. Manuel Bahamondez H. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

The Makah Tribe's reservation, resting on the extreme northwest tip of Washington State, boasts an ethereal landscape and thriving cultural practices. The land and the Tribe's community inspire and nurture ongoing engagement with nature and rich family connections. Despite its remote location, accessible by a single, winding route, the rich culture and natural beauty of this community offer a magical experience for curious travelers. 

The reservation sits at the farthest point north and west in the continental United States, cradled between gentle hills covered by tall Douglas Fir, Sitka Spruce, and Western Red Cedar trees on one side and the rugged Pacific coastline on the other. In the wake of a century-long fight against colonization the Makah continue to protect their sovereignty through the teaching of their Indigenous language, the celebration of cultural rituals and artifacts in their local museum and schools, and the preservation of the tribe’s traditional and sustainable reliance on native plants and animal species. The Tribe welcomes visitors from near and far to reflect on the reservations’ deep culture and lush natural landscapes. Hiking, surfing, and other outdoor activities are easily accessible from this scenic location and cultural hub. Visiting the Makah Tribe offers a unique opportunity to immerse yourself in a rich Native American culture that dates back thousands of years. The stunning natural beauty surrounding the Makah Tribe, including picturesque beaches and rugged cliffs, provides a breathtaking backdrop for your visit.

Sunset on First Beach. Jaisril. CC-BY-NC-ND 2.0

Generation after generation, the fabric of the Tribe’s community is woven through its cultivation of the natural world and artistic endeavors. Today, a significant number of Makah individuals thrive as artists, making a living through the sale of intricately crafted goods which are sold to galleries, shops, and collectors across the globe. A major source of income comes from the exportation of these artistic goods and is a key element of the Tribe’s livelihood. Carvings and masks in particular are a distinct feature of Makah art and have garnered the attention of tourists and art sellers alike for generations. The pieces often feature animals that hold deep cultural importance to the Makah. Whales, salmon, halibut, ravens, eagles, otters, herons, and wolves are commonly depicted in these designs. Each carving tells a story, chronicling the rich narratives of the origins and struggles which are passed down through generations within the community and amongst families.

The Makah are highly skilled woodworkers, capable of fashioning a wide array of items from the trees that thrive in their surrounding forests. While western red cedar is most frequently used, you can also find artists working with alder, yew, and spruce. Carvings range in size, from intricate jewelry to grand ocean-worthy canoes and towering totems. The incorporation of nature imagery and the sourcing of natural materials reinforces and honors the Makah’s reverence for their lands and waters.

Example of Makah style art. A. Davey. CC-BY-NC-ND 2.0 

Long before the advent of written language, the tribe used dance, song, and storytelling to receive and retain intergenerational knowledge. These melodic traditions are shared and reinforced on various occasions, including weddings, naming ceremonies, memorials, and other family or community celebrations. The Makah reservation museum hosts a compelling collection of artifacts, information guides, as well as a garden with plants labeled with the native language and traditional uses. 

For instance, the tribe once maintained five, thriving and permanent villages: Waatch, Sooes, Deah, Ozette and Bahaada. Their ancient way of life began to shift in the late 1770s, when Spanish explorers first settled in and around Neah Bay in 1779. The Spanish and other European groups were eager to exploit the natural resources of the Makah's land and brought in non-Indigenous modes of technology, among the most important of which were guns. The exploitation of the land's natural resources resulted in extinction of native plants and animals (e.g., otters and whales). Not only did the Europeans bring new technologies, they brought diseases, such as smallpox and measles, which plagued the less resistant indigenous communities. The Tribe's traditional ways of life were disrupted, and its inter-generational familial and domestic structures were gravely impacted as a result of death and the loss of land ownership. In the winter of 1855, Makah leaders and the American government signed theTreaty of Neah Bay, which stipulated that the Tribe give up ownership of much of its land, with the exception of rights for certain Indigenous practices, such as whaling, seal hunting, and fishing. The Makah were forced to cope with changes and shift to a more European lifestyle. In exchange, the United States government promised to provide public education and health care. To this day much of the tribe’s coastlines and forests are still under shared jurisdiction with the National Parks Service and the United States Government. 

Makah Whale Hunting Ceremony. U.S. Forest Service- Pacific Northwest Region. CC0

As with so many Indigenous tribes across the country, the Makah have resisted the pull of corporate behemoths endeavoring to exploit the natural resources and cultural traditions that rightfully belong to the tribes. These tribes have fought to ensure their histories are not just archived but are alive and flourishing. One of the best ways to protect the ongoing strength of these communities is to visit these places and engage respectfully with the work and lifestyles of the Indigenous peoples, and to listen to and learn their histories. 


Avery Patterson

A rising junior at Vassar College in New York State, Avery is a Media Studies and French double major. She is an avid reader, writer, and traveler. She loves to immerse herself in new cultures and is an avid explorer who loves being in nature. She is passionate about climate and social justice and hopes to use her love of writing as a catalyst for positive change.

How Malaria Might Make a Comeback in the US

In order to prevent another pandemic so soon after the last one, US authorities need to stop this new malaria outbreak in its tracks.

The female Anopheles mosquito plays host to the disease’s parasite. CC BY-SA 2.0

Over the past two months, seven cases of locally acquired malaria have been identified in the US. These cases, six of which appeared in Florida and one in Texas, have drawn significant attention as the first time in 20 years the disease has been transmitted domestically. At present, the Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) has reported that all five patients have received medical treatment and are recovering positively, and that the risk of malaria reappearing in a more widespread epidemic across the U.S. is extremely low. That being said, this is a good reminder for those in charge of American public health infrastructure to reflect on how best to shore up national defenses, especially in the wake of the recent Covid-19 pandemic.

Malaria is caused by parasites, which commonly infect Anopheles mosquitoes, and who in turn transfer the disease to humans when they inject their proboscises into our bloodstreams. There are several species of the malaria parasite, collectively known as Plasmodium, some of which cause more serious cases than others, but all of which require tropical climates to thrive. Regardless of the species, malaria is still extremely serious and symptoms such as high fevers, chills, and nausea begin to manifest in a few weeks. Most worryingly is that malaria, if left untreated, is fatal. As of 2021, the World Health Organization (WHO) believed that a grand total of 247 million cases of malaria occurred around the world, of which 619,000 were fatal. The majority of these deaths were children in various countries in Africa, where malaria is a constant present threat and contributes to a vicious cycle of social and economic poverty, taking a massive toll on countries in already precarious situations.

Malaria awareness in the US during the 1950s. Library of Congress. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

At the beginning of the 20th century, malaria was considered an extremely serious issue in the US; the CDC was actually founded in 1946 to eliminate the disease. Over the next six years, various public health measures such as insecticide use and window screens were implemented to reduce the 15,000 cases reported in 1947, and in 1951, the CDC finally announced that malaria was in the US no longer. This remained the case for decades, until an incident in 2003 when eight locally acquired cases in Palm Beach, Florida were identified. Fortunately, the outbreak was quickly quashed thanks to an immediate response campaign that completely rid the area of mosquitoes to prevent transmission. Since then, malaria has remained fairly absent from the American healthcare landscape.

It is important to note, however, that malaria has never been completely extinct in the US; prior to the recent COVID-19 pandemic, roughly 2,000 cases of the disease were identified and reported annually in patients who had traveled to countries with high incidences of malaria in Southeast Asia and Africa. Additionally, once infected individuals return to the US, local mosquitos who feed on them can pick up the parasite and spread it further. Every so often, this may result in a small reintroduction of the disease and potentially even some limited transmission, but there has never been any worry of it resulting in a much widespread epidemic.

The malaria parasite pictured under a microscope. Joseph Takahashi Lab. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

The reason these recent cases received so much attention were that all five were acquired locally within the US, which likely indicates that the parasitic mosquito population has made a resurgence as well. Thankfully, the species of parasite identified to have caused this small outbreak is known to transmit one of the milder forms of the disease, but that in no way detracts from the gravity of the situation. Matters of public health have become much more salient in regular discourse since the COVID-19 pandemic, and with it, some extreme opinions about containing and treating transmissible diseases. While America’s healthcare infrastructure continues to operate in largely the same way as it did during the 2003 outbreak, experts have agreed that public cooperation is now more important than ever if this re-appearance is to be nipped in the bud.

The RTS,S malaria vaccine. TheScientist. CC BY-SA 2.0

One particular area in which this agreement would go a long way, is that surrounding the efficacy of vaccines. In October of 2021, the WHO officially recommended the use of the RTS,S malaria vaccine developed by GlaxoSmithKline to prevent transmission in regions with high incidences of the disease. In addition to being logistically simple to store and administer, trials proved that the vaccine was beneficial to 90% of those treated, a staggering figure in the world of pharmaceutical development. Introducing the vaccine to the U.S. seems like an obvious step to take in the wake of these recent malaria cases, especially given the low price of a single dose at $9.30.

Vaccines have been a hotspot of controversy over the past few years, with many people denouncing both their safety and efficacy as a preventative treatment. Government authorities and healthcare professionals and academics around the world continue to release studies and evidence to show that vaccines are essential to build up individual and population-wide resistance  to a variety of diseases, but large groups of the public still remain unconvinced. Among the many lessons and important takeaways from the COVID-19 pandemic, the importance of vaccinations is among the most important, especially in the face of a potential re-emergence of a disease as deadly as malaria.


Tanaya Vohra

Tanaya is an undergraduate student pursuing a major in Public Health at the University of Chicago. She's lived in Asia, Europe and North America and wants to share her love of travel and exploring new cultures through her writing.

An Ethiopian’s Path to From Refugee Camp to College Campus

How a refugee survived genocide and rebuilt a life in the United States.

Omot retelling his journey coming to the U.S. during our interview. Image courtesy of Ojullu Omit.

This semester, I had the privilege of connecting with Ojullu Omot, whose life was forever altered by tragedy. On December 13, 2003, when he was just 14 years old, Omot experienced a massacre at his hometown in south-west Ethiopia. As part of a Wake Forest University project to raise awareness about the challenges faced by refugees, a team made up of me and my classmates produced a 10-minute advocacy film that aims to shed light on the often-overlooked struggles refugees encounter while adapting to life in the United States. Omot’s story is a testament to the blend of heartbreak and perseverance that characterizes the ongoing global refugee crisis, capturing the resilience and fortitude of those seeking haven away from home.

Omot’s story began with displacement, as he fled the 2003 massacre in the remote Gambella region of southwestern Ethiopia. From December 13-15, in a reprisal against a small ambush against Ethiopian federal government officials, ethnically Amhara, Oromo, and Tigrayan soldiers and rioters murdered hundreds of minority Anuak civilians. Human Rights Watch’s report suggests that these atrocities should be considered crimes against humanity. . The Ethiopian government claimed that only 57 were killed and that the violence resulted from ethnic tensions between rival Anuak and Nuer groups, in contrast to the claims of international human rights groups and the Anuak themselves.  Human rights NGOs have called for a thorough investigation into the incident, with concerns that others like it could occur. Despite facing deadly tragedy along with the immense challenges of settling into a new society as a refugee, Omot has found a new home in the United States, where he serves as a living witness to the egregious human rights abuses of his homeland. He remains committed to starting a new chapter in life.

By now Omot has gotten used to retelling the story of how he left his home in Ethiopia in the midst of genocidal violence, and his journey  from there to become an international politics student in the United States. The three-day-long massacre in Gambella town of southwestern Ethiopia was an outburst of ethnic conflict between the indigenous Anuak group and members of the Ethiopian military. As the situation in Ethiopia deteriorated, Omot moved to Sudan when he was a teenager, with the hope that things would get better in a year or two.

But they didn’t. The military confrontation neither started, nor ended with the massacre.  More than 10,000 Anuak people were forced to leave Ethiopia in 2004, the year after the massacre took place.

Omot left Sudan for Kenya after two years of waiting. The unrest had separated him from his family, and he lacked many colorful memories about his childhood in Ethiopia, Sudan and Kenya. What he remembered is playing football with his friends in refugee camps everyday; many of those eventually being sent to Canada, Australia and other developed nations. Omot remembers planes from the United Nation hovered above their heads in refugee camps, dropping food and supplies and people hurrying to grab them. “We were dependent on the refugee program,” Omot said, “Resettlement in the United States was not a typical solution for refugees living in the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees(UNHCR) camp.”

Omot never dreamed about coming to the United States then. He was invested in the idea that everything will go back to normal in Ethiopia, and that he could then return home. Yet Omot’s life took a major turn in the year 2016. He was called for an interview, which he later found out was part of the application process by U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services employees concerning whether he is eligible for resettlement in the United States as a refugee. The approval rate for a refugee status in the United States is 27%, according to World Data.  

Omot waited for roughly six months until he was called for a series of security checks, examinations and orientation. In February 2016, International Organization for Migration contacted Omot, telling him that his case is ready. He then boarded a plane to the United States on April 4th, 2016, his first ever flight. When he landed in Miami, Florida, it was like landing on a new planet- the shock of the novel language and lifestyle almost dazzled the then 28 year old. 

“There was something change, [such as] the day became longer, I was not even comfortable, and I cannot see where I come from, ” Omot recalled his initial exposure to the United States, “The first question I asked myself [was], is this the U.S. [as] I expected it?”

And the first few months continued to affirm to him that starting anew wasn’t easy. Omot often found himself alone in his house assigned by the government, since his roommates busied themselves working in the daytime, and went straight to sleep not long after walking in the door at night. Comparing the situation to the community life in Ethiopia, where everyone would sit down and share stories after a day’s work, filled Omot with homesickness at night. 

Language is also a major challenge to Omot. Going to a university was at the top of his wish list when he came to the United States, but he couldn’t even understand people’s accents when he asked for directions on his way to school. He had no idea how to open emails during his first semester at a community college. When one of his classmates finally taught him how to view the inbox, he found emails from professors flooded in there. In winter, the temperature dropped so low that Omot, who used to live near the equator, had to drop his English as Second language (ESL) classes to avoid traveling in freezing weather.

But Omot is determined to realize his dream. Instead of “wasting time” in ESL classes, he decided to push himself, taking the General Educational Development (GED) tests directly.  He works as a hospital janitor in the daytime for living; in the evening and before dawn, he dives into his study. Whenever he had free time, Omot would peruse his textbooks, went up to the library of the community college he attended everyday, asking every librarian what GED looks like, and tips and tricks to score higher. 

The global refugee population has reached crisis proportions, with more than 30 million refugees displaced in 2022, signaling a significant surge from the previous year's level. The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) has reported a staggering total of 103 million people forcibly displaced as of mid-2022. In response, President Joe Biden has committed to revamping America’s current “inhumane” immigration policy. However, the administration's effort to admit refugees has fallen significantly short of its goal, with only 25,465 individuals granted admission by the end of the previous fiscal year on September 30, 2022, a mere 20% of the objective. The number of refugees received by the United States still remains one of the lowest among all nations, and the number continues to decrease.

Refugees face a plethora of challenges when they resettle in a foreign country, with attaining secure housing among the most pressing. Asylum seekers in particular struggle to obtain temporary housing due to a lack of government support and unfamiliarity with the US housing system. Non-profit organizations and shelters provide vital assistance to these individuals. Despite this aid, refugee and asylum seekers are disproportionately at risk for health problems, both physical and mental. They are more susceptible to severe mental health conditions like PTSD and depression, while chronic illnesses like diabetes, hypertension, and cardiovascular disease exacerbate their already challenging circumstances.

In 2017, Omot took the GED for the first time. And hard work pays off — he passed the test.

“It [passing the test] gives me hope that I could continue to do all of them,” said Omot, breaking into a smile. And he did. After he finished with GED, Omot is currently pursuing a bachelor degree in international politics at University of North Carolina Greensboro. When asked why he could recall his story in astonishingly clear detail, Omot answered, “I think my story is important because if other people, other refugees heard about it, they would think, oh, this guy did that and starting his new life. Maybe I could do the same.”

To Get Involved:

While Omot is navigating through his new life in the United States, it is not without support from various refugee organizations, such as Every Campus a Refugee (ECAR), an organization aiming to mobilize colleges and universities to host refugees on campus grounds and support them in their resettlement. ECAR provided nearly 4 years free housing and accessories to Omot, and provides several other services to refugees in the North Carolina region. Learn more about ECAR here.


Hope Zhu

Hope is a Chinese international student at Wake Forest University in North Carolina studying sociology, statistics, and journalism. She dreams of traveling around the globe as a freelance reporter while touching on a wide range of social issues from education inequality to cultural diversity. Passionate about environmental issues and learning about other cultures, she is eager to explore the globe. In her free time, she enjoys cooking Asian cuisine, reading, and theater.

From Ocean Voyage to Space Travel

Reid Stowe has done a 1000+ day sea voyage, and now he’s focused on opening new possibilities for humans in space.

Reid Stowe. Desmond K. Shaw. CC BY-SA 4.0

A lover of the ocean and all types of art, Reid Stowe is an American craftsman, sailor and adventurer, who completed a more than three year ocean voyage without stopping on land aboard the Anne, a gaff-rigged schooner Stowe built himself.

The iconic journey began on April 21, 2007 from the 12th St. Pier, Hoboken, New Jersey. One thousand one hundred and fifty-two days later, on June 17, 2010,Reid sailed his schooner up the Hudson River and docked at Pier 81 in Manhattan, New York  — a potential record for the longest continuous sea voyage without resupply or stepping on land. 

With all the experience Reid has built up on the ocean, the renowned sailor has started a new program, meant to help astronauts who are looking to go on a mission to Mars in the 2030s. As Reid has put it, “the deep models of today could provide a role model for space bearers tomorrow,” and plans to use his journey at sea as a blueprint of sorts to help guide these future astronauts.

Reid Stowe working on Anne. @reid_stowe_art. Instagram.

Because those going on the Mars mission will be finding themselves on the ship for almost three years, it brings the concept of “isolation” into perspective. What will they do to cope, being in an enclosed area for such a long period of time? Reid knows what that’s like. He never needed coping mechanisms to prepare himself for his sea journey. There was nothing to “cope” with, and he was always able to love what he was doing. Reid’s new program will tackle these issues and answer the question: “What kind of person will it take to survive a trip to Mars?” 

But this training initiative represents more than just valuable lessons for Reid. It didn’t matter that he was on his boat and “being turned upside down by storms,” because knowing that this journey would be worth it for everyone was more than enough.

One of Reid’s recent artworks. @reidstowepaintings.com

“How did I keep myself happy and healthy?” Reid said. “Believing that what I was doing was good for all of creation. Because I was showing that humans could live in a place where I never imagined before and by opening new doors of perception for what we’re capable of.”

But sailing isn’t the only thing Reid finds passion and purpose in. His Instagram features many of his artworks in great detail. Ever since he was young, he would paint or draw boats or mariners, even before he knew he wanted to be a sailor. And as he grew up, his art became more and more integrated into his sailing — to the point where his artistic drive encouraged him to embark on the longest sea voyage in history.

Schooner Starship Anne. @reid_stowe_art. Instagram.

Each of Stowe’s paintings has layers of meaning and connection. Many of the artworks he made while at sea empowered his voyage, the same way the voyage empowered the artwork. Much more can be found on his own website.

A more than 3 year adventure at sea is an effectively unique accomplishment. But Reid Stowe was able to use his incredible feat to offer guidance, spread awareness and most importantly — tell his own unique stories to the rest of the world. 


Michelle Tian

Michelle is a senior at Boston University, majoring in journalism and minoring in philosophy. Her parents are first-generation immigrants from China, so her love for different cultures and traveling came naturally at a young age. After graduation, she hopes to continue sharing important messages through her work.