I was quite surprised when Lúcia Lohmann, director of the Missouri Botanical Garden, reached out to inform me that the venerable institution would award me the Henry Shaw Medal. I’m deeply grateful for the recognition. The Garden has long stood as one of the world’s great centers of science and conservation. To be recognized by it—alongside so many who have dedicated their lives to protecting the planet—feels less like a personal honor than a reminder of how much collective effort this work requires. The Garden’s legacy of advancing science, conservation, and public understanding has inspired me for as long as I can remember.
I was first introduced to the Garden through its work in Madagascar and through former director Peter Raven’s research on the scale and urgency of today’s biodiversity crisis. His writing on extinction rates helped shape my understanding of what is at stake. Raven taught the world that biodiversity is not just a measure of life’s variety but the foundation of human survival. His influence runs through much of what we do at Mongabay—reminding us that journalism, like science, plays a vital role in confronting the loss of life on Earth by illuminating the path forward.
The Garden’s work in Madagascar has always resonated with me. Its scientists have shown how rigorous evidence, combined with humility and local knowledge, can lead to better conservation outcomes. Their programs there integrate research, community partnership, and technology—digitizing vast collections, using artificial intelligence to map rare species, and working with Malagasy communities to restore forests and livelihoods. That combination of innovation and respect for place reflects the kind of grounded optimism that conservation needs most.
My own connection to Madagascar began as a childhood fascination that became something much deeper. As a kid, I was enthralled by the island’s lemurs, chameleons, and baobabs, saving what I earned to one day see them myself. When I finally made the trip as a college student, it was both chaotic and transformative: lost luggage, illness, and a string of misadventures—but also extraordinary beauty and kindness. I met people striving to protect their forests against impossible odds. That experience planted the seed for Mongabay and for my belief that storytelling could bridge science and the public, data and empathy.
Independent journalism, at its best, helps bridge that gap. Much of what we do at Mongabay involves translating complex research into narratives that policymakers, business leaders, and communities can act on. Science communication is not only about awareness—it’s about transparency. When credible information circulates freely, it holds powerful interests accountable, equips decision-makers with evidence, and gives frontline communities the tools to defend their rights and ecosystems.
The Henry Shaw Medal may carry my name, but it reflects the collective effort of the entire Mongabay community. Our journalists, editors, photographers, and local contributors work in some of the most challenging environments on Earth, often far from the spotlight, united by the belief that information can drive change. The generosity of our donors and the collaboration of our partners make this work possible. I share this honor with all of them.
In an era when environmental news can feel overwhelming, I believe it is vital to highlight stories of solutions and resilience. Optimism, to me, is not about ignoring challenges—it is about showing that change is possible and giving people the sense of agency to be part of it. This recognition reminds me that knowledge, when shared freely and carried by hope, remains one of the quiet forces capable of protecting the planet we all call home.
