A Conversation with Phil Levin: EarthLab’s New Interim Executive Director
Phil Levin has spent his career asking a deceptively simple question: How can science actually help the places and people who need it most? Since joining the University of Washington as a Professor of Practice in 2016, he’s worked to bridge what often feels like a large gap between research and real-world conservation challenges.
In late June, we announced that Levin will serve as EarthLab’s interim executive director prior to a comprehensive national search being conducted for a permanent successor. Levin will take on this role in addition to serving as the director of the United by Nature initiative.
Across his career, Levin’s collaborative approach has earned recognition through awards including the Department of Commerce Silver Award and NOAA’s Bronze Medal for his work on marine ecosystems, and the Seattle Aquarium’s Conservation Research Award for his work in Puget Sound. His work has been featured in NPR, PBS, The New York Times, the BBC, MSBNC, and The Economist, among others. With over 200 published papers in peer-reviewed journals, book chapters and technical reports, Levin has demonstrated his ability to communicate complex environmental science in a way that showcases a perspective rooted in fairness, shaped by resilience and elevated by hope.
This month, we got a chance to sit down with Levin to learn more about his work and what he envisions for this next chapter at EarthLab.
EarthLab: What drew you to environmental justice work as a conservation scientist, and how do you see your scientific background (both within and outside of academia) informing your role as EarthLab’s interim executive director?
Phil Levin: I’ve always believed that conservation isn’t just about protecting nature—it’s about protecting people and the relationships we have with the world around us. Environmental justice brings that into sharper focus. My work has spanned coral reefs, fisheries scinece, and large-scale assessments like the National Nature Assessment and now United by Nature. Across all of it, the most enduring lesson has been this: science matters most when it serves those most impacted. As interim director, I see my role as making space—for ideas, for partnerships, for solutions that honor both rigor and relevance. My background gives me the tools to ask hard questions, but more importantly, to listen well and follow the answers to unexpected places.
For those who may be unfamiliar, can you share how you have supported or been involved in EarthLab’s work prior to this new role?
I’ve been involved with EarthLab since the beginning—serving on the Faculty Steering Committee and collaborating on interdisciplinary projects that span ecological science, policy, and community engagement. I’ve also worked closely with EarthLab’s leadership over the years to help shape its direction, bring in external partners, and support funding efforts. This isn’t a new chapter—it’s a continuation of a shared journey.
What does authentic partnership look like between scientific institutions and frontline communities, and how will you help foster that at EarthLab?
Authentic partnership starts with humility. It’s not about parachuting in with answers—it’s about building trust over time, acknowledging power dynamics, and letting communities define what success looks like. At EarthLab, we’re fortunate to have examples of this kind of work already underway. My job is to nurture those relationships, clear roadblocks, and make sure we’re resourcing our partnerships not just financially, but with attention, accountability, and respect.
What are you excited about working on in the next year at EarthLab?
Honestly—it’s the people. EarthLab is filled with brilliant, creative, deeply committed individuals. I’m excited to help elevate their work, strengthen our cross-campus and community connections, and sharpen our focus on equity-centered climate and environmental solutions.
What’s one environmental justice challenge that keeps you up at night, and what gives you hope about solving it?
What keeps me up is the deep inequity in who gets to shape environmental decisions—and who bears the cost when those decisions go wrong. But I find hope in the next generation of leaders: students, practitioners, and scientists who are refusing to accept that inequity as inevitable. They’re pushing all of us to do better.
How do you balance the urgency around climate action with the patience required for thoughtful, inclusive relationship building?
This is one of the most persistent tensions in my work—and honestly, one of the most important to navigate well. I’ve spent much of my career working on issues where the stakes are high and the timelines feel crushing. In every case, there’s a strong pull to move fast. But I’ve learned—sometimes the hard way—that rushing without trust usually leads to shallow solutions at best, and lasting harm at worst.
The most enduring and equitable outcomes I’ve seen have emerged from relationships, not reaction. That means making the time to listen, to build trust, and to co-create goals with the communities most affected. That kind of work doesn’t always look like “progress” on a Gantt chart. But it’s what lays the foundation for real, transformative change.
So I try to operate with urgency—but not haste. I aim to move fast when it comes to showing up, being accountable, and removing institutional barriers. But when it comes to building trust, sharing power, and shaping long-term solutions, I know we have to move at the speed of relationship. As Stephen Covey put it: change moves at the speed of trust.
At EarthLab, I see part of my role as protecting space for both of these tempos—urgency and patience—to coexist. Because we can’t afford to choose just one.
What emerging opportunities do you see in the environmental justice space that weren’t available to previous generations of leaders?
There’s a growing recognition that lived experience is a form of expertise—and that’s a big shift. We’re also seeing more funders, institutions, and policymakers willing to center justice rather than treat it as an add-on. That creates real space for innovation, particularly at the intersections of science, art, storytelling, and action.
Is there a story from your professional experience that best illustrates why bridging social and natural sciences matters for the work ahead of us?
Yes—one that changed how I think about science, place, and justice.
It comes from a study on wildfire vulnerability that illustrates how, when we consider people and nature together, we transform not just our science but our actions. Research led by one of my SEFS graduate students, Ian Davies revelaed that communities with majority Black, Hispanic, or Native American populations face up to 50% greater vulnerability to wildfires than other communities—because of where they live, the resources they have, and the structural legacies they inherit.
That statistic isn’t just a number. It’s a call to do things differently.
When I first learned about that disparity, it forced me to rethink everything: not just how we model fire risk, but where we focus our attention; not just how we communicate warnings, but who writes them; not just the ecological indicators we produce, but the social indicators we partner to understand—air quality, evacuation access, historical underinvestment, health care barriers.
In practice, bridging social and natural sciences meant reshaping the work. It meant designing interventions that didn’t just improve ecological outcomes, but also ensured support for vulnerable communities. It meant recognizing that wildfire resilience isn’t just about trees and fire lines—but about equity, infrastructure, and trust.
That shift—from single-discipline thinking to truly integrated science—does more than improve outcomes. It builds legitimacy, relevance, and resilience into our solutions.
For me, it’s a lasting lesson in how science becomes more powerful when it’s rooted in people—and why institutions like EarthLab exist to bridge those worlds.
How should organizations like ours be showing up for the next generation of environmental justice leaders?
Start by listening. Not with the intent to guide, but to understand. Young leaders know what they need—we should be asking how we can support, not shape, their paths. We also need to move resources—not just ideas. That means paid roles, shared decision-making, and a commitment to removing structural barriers. It’s not about inviting people to our tables—it’s about building new ones together.
If you could have coffee with any leader, past or present, who would it be and what would you ask them?
I’d have coffee with Louis Pasteur.
He was a scientist who bridged curiosity and public impact—someone whose work reshaped medicine, food systems, and public health, all while pursuing fundamental questions about how the world works. His legacy lives on not just in germ theory and vaccines, but in what’s now called Pasteur’s Quadrant: science driven by both a desire to understand and a commitment to serve.
That’s where I see EarthLab today—squarely in Pasteur’s Quadrant. We’re doing work that’s rigorous and relevant, rooted in research but also in community, in justice, and in the messy realities of climate action. I’d ask Pasteur how he held that dual commitment—how he stayed focused on discovery while staying grounded in service. And I’d want to know how he sustained his integrity and imagination while navigating institutional resistance.
Also, if the coffee turned into wine—ideally something fermented with a nod to his early work—I wouldn’t complain.
Crossing the Cascades: The Importance of Inclusive Environmental Communication
By Ella Gebers
Storytelling for Social Change Intern, Summer 2025
Growing up in Wenatchee meant growing up hiking in the foothills, swimming in the Columbia River, and skiing in the mountains. My love for the outdoors blossomed into a love for the environment and a deep appreciation for the childhood it gave me.
During my first year at the University of Washington, I discovered I could use my creativity to design for people with inclusivity in mind through the Human Centered Design and Engineering major. At the same time, I began taking Environmental Studies classes where I delved into climate change and the people who are disproportionately impacted by it.
It was through these classes that the concept of environmental justice was first introduced to me. The more I learned, the more the way I viewed my childhood in Eastern Washington shifted.
I began to notice how environmental challenges in the eastern part of the state create disproportionate barriers to accessing healthy environments where people can live and thrive. Reflecting on the community I grew up in, the lack of equitable access to resources became glaringly clear.
Living on both sides of the Cascades has shown me different worldviews, exposing me to a variety of perspectives on how to live and think. I decided to attend the University of Washington because I wanted to see what it was like to be in a place that felt different from the one I grew up in. You wouldn’t think it would be so different — I am from Washington after all. However, there are huge cultural and environmental differences between Central and Western Washington.
Growing East, Going West
I am grateful for growing up in a rural area that showed me a slower pace of living with an emphasis on community. However, during my time at UW, I’ve noticed there is a limited access to resources and opportunities in Eastern Washington compared to those offered to people living in the greater Seattle area.
Environmentally, the eastern part of the state is very different from the west. For example, the shrub-steppe environment is much dryer than the lush evergreen forests found surrounding Seattle. With a dryer climate comes increased wildfire exposure. In Wenatchee, wildfires are a natural companion to warm, dry weather, causing smoke to settle in the valley every year.
Growing up, my classmates and I often wouldn’t be able to play outside for recess and would instead run around our school gym. Sometimes, friends with asthma would have to go to the hospital due to the poor air quality. This summer is the first I’ve spent living in the western part of the state. I’ve noticed that I never checked the air quality index, when it was part of my daily routine during wildfire season in Wenatchee. This isn’t just anecdotal: the Washington Department of Natural Resources fights roughly 900 wildfires in a given year, with 70% of those fires occurring in Eastern Washington. My knowledge of environmental justice has given me a needed perspective in understanding the way people are disproportionately affected by the wildfires in the area. Wildfires are not just an environmental challenge, but also a social issue.
For example, agriculture is everywhere in Eastern Washington. I grew up eating fresh apples and cherries straight from the orchards. I know the people who grow and pick our food. So much of our community and economy revolves around agriculture and the people who work in the industry.
In Chelan County, Agriculture is the top sector of employment. The summer and fall harvest seasons see the largest amounts of farm labor employment, which also aligns with the wildfire season in Washington State. This puts outdoor workers at a greater risk of negative health effects from smoke and heat. In addition, resources about the health impacts due to smoke exposure are not easily accessible to the population as a whole. Nationwide, the National Agricultural Workers Survey shows that 77% of farmworkers are most comfortable speaking Spanish.
In Washington, I’ve noticed that rural communities’ voices can be lost, and the narrative is often shifted towards those living in the western part of the state. In conversation with other UW students from Central/Eastern Washington, one student stated, “Sometimes I feel like people think Washington is Seattle.”
Central and Eastern Washington face some of the most extreme climate impacts in the state, yet effective science communication is not centered around the communities that need it most.
An EarthLab Innovation Grant awarded project worked to change this. The project established the Community and Climate Impact Hub alongside Wenatchee CAFE. They created a Hootboard that shares vital climate education resources in an accessible and culturally responsive manner. Articles and infographics are provided in both English and Spanish, and effective climate impact messaging is used to strengthen community engagement and access to information.
My Summer in Seattle
Currently, I am the Storytelling for Social Change summer intern at EarthLab. I came into the experience with the hope that I could combine my love for the environment with my skills in design and communication.
Early in my college career, I explored the possibility of studying Environmental Studies alongside my major of Human Centered Design and Engineering. I was advised against doing a double major due to how different the subjects were. I was still passionate about studying the environment, so I settled on incorporating an Environmental Studies minor into my education. Earthlab was the perfect opportunity to merge my interests, create connections, and tell stories that inspire a larger community.
The reality of what the EarthLab internship program has to offer has far surpassed my expectations.
During my time at EarthLab, I’ve learned how important ethical storytelling and accessible science communication is. Telling stories from a community centered perspective and ensuring voices are heard is crucial to telling powerful climate impact stories. As I have learned more about climate and environmental justice during the EarthLab cohort meetings, I have developed a greater understanding of how to design for a diverse range of people and demographics.
My experiences in Central and Western Washington have shown me diverse landscapes and communities. The perspectives I’ve gained and the environments I’ve lived in are influencing who I am now and who I want to be in the future.
There is no singular pathway to engage in environmental work. Environmental work is deeply connected and intertwined with fields of study outside of traditional science pathways. Thinking about how to design sustainably and inclusively with a mission in mind are key factors I think about in every design project.
My future career aspirations are to design solutions to climate impact issues with a focus on environmental and climate justice. I want a career that creates a positive environmental and societal impact, and the EarthLab Summer Internship program has been the perfect stepping stone to reach my goals.
Why Now: Reflections on Joining EarthLab
When I first arrived at the University of Washington in 2016, I was drawn by the promise of possibility—the idea that science, when grounded in community and courage, could do more than describe the world. It could help change it. That same promise is what pulled me into EarthLab’s orbit as a member of the Faculty Steering Committee and a co-conspirator on activities from the Innovation Grants program, to transdisciplinary research to late-afternoon brainstorming sessions fueled by equal parts hope and coffee.
So why join EarthLab now as Interim Director, nearly a decade later?
Because I still believe in that promise. And because the world—messy, wondrous, and in no small part on fire—needs institutions like EarthLab more than ever.
EarthLab isn’t just a center or an initiative. It’s a gathering place for people who believe the future can be better—and who are stubborn enough to try to make it so. It sits at the intersection of research and reality, insisting that knowledge should not just be admired, but applied. That’s not an easy stance. It means grappling with complexity instead of simplifying it. It means building bridges when it would be easier to retreat to disciplinary silos. It means listening—really listening—to people outside the academy, and trusting that solutions to our most pressing environmental challenges won’t come from any one lab, dataset, or credential.
What excites me most about stepping into this leadership role is the chance to help steward and grow that spirit. To support scholars and practitioners who are not afraid to ask inconvenient questions. To make room for new voices, especially those that have long been left out of the conversation. And to work alongside a community I’ve been lucky to be part of for years—one that understands the power of collaboration, and the necessity of humility.
Of course, the challenges we face are enormous. Climate change, biodiversity loss, environmental injustice—none of these have quick fixes. But I’ve never believed our job is to be optimistic. Our job is to be honest, brave, and imaginative. To recognize, as Ada Limón writes, that “the world keeps opening before you,” even when it breaks your heart a little. Especially then.
I see EarthLab as a space where that kind of radical imagination is not only welcomed, but required. A place where science meets storytelling, and where the question isn’t just what’s the problem, but what’s possible.
I’m honored to step into this role. And I’m looking forward—truly—to doing the hard, hopeful work ahead with so many of you who believe that science, at its best, is a public good.
Ben Packard reflects on his leadership at EarthLab
The idea that inspired me to serve as the inaugural Harriet Bullitt Endowed Executive Director of EarthLab in 2017 is a powerful one: If we could connect the talented and curious researchers, students, staff, and faculty of the University of Washington in service of community-driven and actionable solutions, we can make our world safer and more resilient in the face of climate change.
Working with others to bring this idea to life has been one of the most challenging and fulfilling roles in my career. The experience has further illuminated for me the essential truth that we can only change systems when we are working across sectors, cultures and world views. None of us does this work alone and all of us are needed in order to develop lasting solutions to these systemic challenges.
As I pass the baton to interim Director Phil Levin on Aug. 1, I am filled with deep gratitude. Thank you to all who have supported the important work at EarthLab and for supporting me and the team as we turned this idea into reality. Eight dynamic and challenging years on, we have demonstrated how EarthLab can deliver impact, and we have a strong team in place to carry on.
It was an honor for me to serve in this role named after Harriet Bullitt, a pioneering champion of environmental work in this region. This isn’t an ending for EarthLab. Rather, it’s EarthLab stepping into its next chapter of impact. I will be cheering for Phil and the team from my new role as supporter.
Warm Regards,
Ben Packard
Finding Connection Through EarthLab’s Cohort Model
By Brianna Blanchard
Storytelling for Social Change Intern, Summer 2024
I was a sophomore in high school when the 2020 lockdown happened. Now that I am almost done with my junior year at the University of Washington, I’ve had lots of time to reflect on what the last five years have taught me about isolation, connection, and the importance of community.
I know my story is one of many: according to Census data, there were 73.1 million children under the age of 18 in the US in 2020. So many of us were hit hard both academically and emotionally by the fact that our once lively classrooms and community spaces were replaced by the quiet, distant world of virtual learning.
Perhaps one of the most interesting things about being a teenager during that time was that our isolation felt universal, but the toll that loneliness took on our own cognitive development was something that we all experienced differently.
Not only was it an abrupt pause to what we had grown accustomed to, but it also felt as though many of us were being quietly reshaped. Much of the social, academic, and emotional development that usually takes place in high school and college did not just stall, but instead was entirely disrupted. Since then, we have had to learn how to grow up and reconnect from a starting point of disconnection.
While our world has opened back up over the past five years, it feels like many of us are still reeling from what has now been coined as the “loneliness epidemic.” Psychologists from Harvard found that approximately 43% of young adults reported increases in loneliness since the outbreak of the pandemic, which has led to increases in depression and anxiety as well.
On top of that, the last five years have been marked by a wave of other challenges. With rapid global warming, devastating biodiversity loss, extreme economic uncertainty, and a rise in human health challenges, all compounded by political turmoil, many of us have found being very hopeful to be difficult. At certain times, it almost felt as though the very systems meant to support us, such as education, government, and even healthcare, were unraveling themselves. These interconnected challenges made everything feel significantly heavier, leaving many of us wondering: how do we navigate this overwhelming sense of isolation?
Finding New Ways to Connect
The loss of in-person experiences and the search for new ways to engage with others were absolutely pivotal in shaping my academic and professional path. Initially focused on environmental engineering when I began university, I realized I had true passion within the world of environmental public health, where I would be able to focus more on people and community-driven work during my time as an undergraduate student.
My search for connection ultimately led me to pursue an internship role at UW EarthLab. I had been particularly drawn to the program’s cohort model, emphasis on storytelling, and well-rounded focus on environmental justice, realizing it perfectly aligned with my love for creativity, communications, and science. Not only was I able to explore my academic interests with this experience, but I was also offered the abundance of meaningful human connections I had been seeking all along.
What Even Is a Cohort Model?
At the beginning of my summer internship experience with EarthLab, one of the main things I was looking forward to was the program’s cohort model. According to EarthLab’s website, the cohort model was described as a requirement to the program across the full nine weeks where students could gather, network, and grow together through our parallel experiences. I was drawn to the idea of having a space to connect with my peers and discuss our educational experiences in ways that traditional classrooms often do not allow.
Last summer, I came together with 16 other interns across 13 different internship sites every week for a half-day session. Each meeting focused on different topics related to environmental justice. We had the privilege of learning from twelve guest speakers, all sharing insights into professional development, community climate research, eco-anxiety, science communication work, and non-linear career pathways. We shared meals, laughed together, exchanged coffee and study spots, and ultimately supported each other.
These sessions were more than just meetings; they were opportunities to rebuild a sense of community during a time when it has felt particularly difficult to find meaningful social connections. “Navigating my internship alongside folks who are in the same boat has fostered mutual support, inspiration, and friendships,” intern Caroline Hale shared. “I learned so much working alongside my peers with different areas of knowledge and interests than I do, particularly through our small and large group discussions.”
What the Cohort Model Has Meant to My Peers
With this consistent space for networking came the beautiful creation of a built-in support system, where each week we were given the chance to reflect and share our recent highs and lows. Because our internships spanned a variety of environmental and social justice-related work, having a regular space to provide emotional and professional support to one another was particularly meaningful. “The cohort model has been really amazing. I have made a lot of really good connections with other interns, and it has allowed me to get a lot more insight into other paths in environmental justice than I would have otherwise,” student Iris Miller-Sherman stated. “It has also been really nice to have other people who are doing the same type of thing as me, which makes me feel less alone and more supported.”
The cohort model also emphasized the importance of developing soft skills: beyond the technical knowledge we acquired, we learned about how to navigate interpersonal dynamics, communicate effectively, and work collaboratively– all of which are crucial for any future professionals. “It has been particularly useful in understanding the multitude of pathways that can lead to creative climate focused jobs and positions,” said EarthLab student Cora Schultz. “The cohort model makes me feel warm surrounded by a big group of people figuring out the same things as me.”
Through constant interaction and teamwork, we found a safe space to articulate our ideas in a supportive environment. In the words of intern Hope Flanigan, “This is my first internship experience, so it has been incredibly valuable to go through this journey with a group of fellow interns and have the space to discuss our struggles and successes. Building relationships with peers who will be my future colleagues has been incredibly valuable.”
What the Cohort Model Has Meant to Me
For me, the cohort model has meant getting to have a space where I can form a community again, particularly an academic and professional one, free of judgment and full of support. Not only was I provided with amazing academic mentorship from my supervisors, but I was also able to grow emotionally and interpersonally.
Being able to consistently meet people with their own unique perspectives and experiences, to then share and interact by having meaningful conversations, allowed me to reconnect with others in a way I haven’t experienced in years. It has been a professional and academic space where we can still be vulnerable, share our struggles, and celebrate our brilliant successes together.
In simpler terms, I was reminded that the antidote to isolation is connection.
Throughout the process of rebuilding what was lost, both personally and collectively, I found that strength doesn’t always have to look like certainty. Sometimes, it can look like showing up, sharing openly, and creating a community for others to do the same.
NextGen Narratives is an EarthLab blog series tailored for University of Washington students to express how they’re thinking about taking equitable climate action in a variety of ways. If you’re a student eager to join NextGen Narratives, don’t hesitate to contact Allie Long, EarthLab’s Communications Lead, at alongs@uw.edu.
Building climate resilience in north-central Washington: New tools for a safer summer
As sunny days and warmer weather return to Washington state, so too do the risks of wildfire season. Rural communities across central Washington know these realities all too well: in 2021, over 50% of the acres burned in wildfires across the entire state happened in Chelan and Okanogan counties alone. Yet, many communities lacked access to responsive, accessible health messaging around what to do or how to stay safe during wildfires.
With support from EarthLab’s Innovation Grants Program, a collaborative team in partnership with Wenatchee CAFE and other regional leaders brought together community stakeholders across north-central Washington to identify best practices and fill these knowledge gaps around climate communication messaging. By November 2024, the project team successfully launched the Community and Climate Impact (CCI) Hub—a coalition of community-based organizations, public health experts, and local stakeholders working together to address climate-related health risks in Chelan, Okanogan, Grant, and Douglas counties.
“EarthLab’s support allowed us to build trust, host meaningful conversations, and amplify the voices of community organizations,” the project team shared. “It also enabled student involvement, fostering ongoing engagement with the community.”
Although this team completed EarthLab’s formal grant process in fall 2024, the CCI Hub continues to meet and evolve as part of Wenatchee CAFE’s ongoing Climate Taskforce, ensuring this work doesn’t end with the grant.
Two Tangible Resources to Know About Before Wildfire Season, Created by the Team
- The Best Practices Toolkit
Co-created with CCI Hub members, this toolkit offers step-by-step best practices for impactful climate messaging. It’s designed to guide organizations on how to strengthen community engagement and improve both the access to and content of heat and smoke related messaging. This toolkit has interactive checklists on how to develop this kind of messaging, and a how-to section that introduces the CCI Resource Hootboard. - The CCI Resource Hootboard
This interactive digital platform is a communal space that houses all factsheets, resources, and tools from the project. The goal of this resource board is to help residents, educators, and community leaders easily find and share climate and health information, which we encourage you to use and share as well. Here, you can find educational tools, graphics, and messaging about how to stay safe during periods of extreme heat and wildfire smoke—especially for at-risk populations like children, older adults, and outdoor workers.
Stay Connected
Visit the CCI Resource Hootboard to explore and share materials with your network. If you’re part of an organization looking to improve climate communication or better prepare your community for extreme weather, the Best Practices Toolkit is an excellent place to start.
EarthLab’s Second Annual Spring Showcase
On Thursday, April 10th, the UW Center for Urban Horticulture was buzzing with over 100 EarthLab friends, partners, and supporters for the second annual EarthLab Spring Showcase. Across the different backgrounds, disciplines, and experiences of the attendees in the room, the evening was a powerful reminder of the strength we have when we come together in pursuit of climate solutions.
The evening’s programming began with opening remarks from University of Washington and EarthLab leadership. Maya Tolstoy, Dean of the College of the Environment, shared: “There is a unique role for universities to play in our quest to mitigate and adapt to climate change: in research and innovation, teaching, and public service.”
This role is even more urgent now, as environmental research and higher education face growing pressures. As she reminded us, the University of Washington has weathered many storms since its founding in 1861; with continued investment and leadership, we are more than capable of rising to meet today’s challenges.
Stories Shared
The evening featured stories from across our network, like the interdisciplinary team creating a circular economy in South Park, supported by our Innovation Grants Program. This program funds teams that are composed of at least one community partner, two UW faculty members from different departments, and a UW student, to investigate community questions at the intersection of climate change and social justice. To date, this competitive program has received over 160 proposals, and we’ve invested nearly $2 million in 29 dynamic projects.
We also celebrated the success of our Summer Internship Program, which helps UW students from across the tri-campus gain real-world experience in climate careers. With more than 950 applications in just four years for a total of 53 spots, the demand for this kind of opportunity from students is clear and growing.
Behind all of EarthLab’s work is a powerful engine for impact: our shared services model, which supports our own programs while also supporting other environmental research centers we call EarthLab member organizations. More specifically, through our strategic support in administration, HR, operations, and communications, our shared services model has turned EarthLab’s $2.5 million core budget into nearly $35 million in grants and funding—supporting over 120 employees in research and community-engaged initiatives.
We heard firsthand from Rishi Sugla, the co-director of the Northwest Climate Resilience Collaborative based in the Climate Impacts Group (an EarthLab member organization), about the ways that this model has directly supported coalitions of community organizations across the Pacific Northwest advance climate resilience with the most impacted communities at the center of the work.
“When we want to recruit for a pilot educational program that brings together people from different communities, sectors, and disciplines, EarthLab is there to lay the groundwork,” said Sugla. “EarthLab is the connecting thread that brings the best of academic creativity and ingenuity together to be responsive to the real world.”
Thanks To You
As our student speaker, UW junior Cordy Plymale, aptly asked: “If we can’t imagine a better future, how on Earth are we going to get there?” It’s thanks to you — our donors, champions, and partners — we can imagine that better future. And more importantly, we’re building it. Whether it’s breaking down silos between departments, connecting researchers with community needs, or giving students a platform to launch their climate careers, EarthLab is creating space for meaningful, measurable progress.
We’re deeply grateful to those of you who have already invested in this work. Over half of EarthLab’s operating budget comes from philanthropy. As public support becomes increasingly uncertain, private giving is more important than ever.
The potential for more impact is enormous. The need is urgent. And the moment is now. Let’s keep imagining and building that better future together.
To learn more about how your giving to EarthLab programs and researchers could directly drive community impact, please contact Kearstin Williams at kearsw@uw.edu.