I love this planet. I love the fog that hugs the valleys, the wind that sings in the trees, and the canopies that color the mountains. I love the animals that live within these scenes—the chorus of cicadas, and the richness of life hidden beneath the waves. Every once in while I need to remind myself that this planet is not their ecosystem alone, but one that we also live amongst—a place that we treasure, a place we all call home.

In her keynote address, Dr. Julie Pullen described so well what I have been unable to put into words for so long: watching the climate crisis unfold is suffering a loss. It’s heartbreaking—awful. However, these emotions also mean that we care so much. To be present in that Georgia Aquarium conference room means that we’re here to do something—anything—whatever it takes to protect our ecosystems. The Ocean Visions Biennial Summit reminded me that these sentiments are precisely why I wanted to return to school. The conference placed me in the proactive space in which I always wanted to be. It showed me a small sample of how many others feel just the same as I.

It’s devastating that discussions of geoengineering or marine carbon dioxide removal need to be had in the first place. Yet there’s also a flicker of hope—a small flame of inspiration. I am in a position in which I can do something for the planet I love. When Dr. Andréa Grottoli shared her invention, a device that helps corals feed after they have expelled their zooxanthellae, my old engineering skills regained purpose. When Dr. Peter de Menocal described modeling as a critical tool to inform vital oceanic observations, my TRAPS debugging woes dissolved into a bump along an ever more important journey. I am eager to continue refining and gaining skills for the future. How can I synthesize and apply these abilities to ocean climate problems, and who can I collaborate with on ocean climate solutions?