![]() |
| Ready to scoop up a fish -- or fend off an otter. Photo: Rachel London |
Wednesday, July 21, 2021
An otter ate my homework: Updates from intern Rachel London
Tuesday, July 13, 2021
A Work in Progress: Reflections on Capitol Hill Ocean Week 2021 and Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Justice in the Ocean and Great Lakes Policy Sphere
![]() |
| So-Jung Youn |
Friday, May 21, 2021
Down the street from the office: A tale about teleworking and how to make new fellows feel welcome
Within just a few weeks, I already felt like I was part of the team. My mentors sent me the most amazing care package -- a National Estuarine Research Reserve System (NERRS) shirt, Bergers Cookies, crab-seasoned potato chips, and a postcard with some Assateague ponies on it. I was invited to staff meetings, virtual happy hours, and even the NOAA 312 program evaluation, the five-year NOAA evaluation of the MD Coastal Program. I have to admit, at first it was nerve-wracking to show up in meetings with strangers, but the persistence of my mentors in introducing me to people, asking for my opinions in meetings, and treating me as an equal has been the key to my success. Everyone always has their cameras on in meetings, they never fail to introduce their pets, and they love asking questions about Michigan and sharing their own experiences in our beautiful state. Before I had even moved to Annapolis, it felt like I was starting to recognize people’s faces… my new coworkers even noticed when I got a haircut!
![]() |
| At Assateague Island National Seashore in March to learn about their adaptation efforts. |
When I finally moved to Annapolis, I realized I was just a ten-minute walk away from my office, which was my dream, but we were still teleworking. Nevertheless, on my first day of work in August I picked out a cubicle, worked with IT to get my laptop set up, ordered supplies, and explored Annapolis with my fellowship mentor. Working from home in a new state with a new job can be lonely, but starting my job already knowing some of my coworkers has completely changed the experience for me. Since starting, my mentors and coworkers have made it a priority to introduce me to new projects and opportunities in addition to my fellowship project. My main assignment is to write climate change adaptation and resilience plans for Assateague State Park, Pocomoke State Forest, and Browns Branch Wildlife Management area. I am really lucky in that I have been able to go on some incredible site visits to these areas to learn more about the climate change threats and opportunities, in addition to going on monthly hikes with my mentors. Other projects that I have gotten to work on include designing a “Walktober” campaign, planning Nature Play and NatureCity Conferences, participating in the Maryland Commission on Climate Change and in climate change coordination meetings, and many more! Having multiple responsibilities has made me feel very valued as someone new to the unit, and has given me the opportunity to learn about all of the great projects DNR works on!
Often, I am asked what starting a new job virtually was like and how people can support new hires virtually. In my office, we might not go back to work until late fall or early next year, so I think there is a lot of value in asking these questions. Here are my tips:
For Fellows | For Mentors |
|
|
I now live even closer to my office than I did before, and I am grateful to know that when we get to work in-person again I won’t feel like a stranger. Instead, I’ll get to walk by friends and coworkers as I walk down the decorated hallway to my cubicle that overlooks the garden. Starting a new job during a pandemic wasn’t easy, but seeing the development of my climate change plans and getting to collaborate with 25+ people on a new project for the state has been totally worth it, and I can’t wait to see what comes next!
Tuesday, January 5, 2021
From Finalist to Fellow: The beginning of my Knauss journey by So-Jung Youn
![]() |
| Whether in the field or at outreach events, fisheries biologists like So-Jung often spend plenty of time outdoors. Photo: Julia Whyte |
Ever since I heard about the Knauss Fellowship from previous Fellows in my graduate lab, back in 2013 when I first started graduate school, I was interested in working with Sea Grant locally (Michigan Sea Grant) and nationally, hoping one day to become a Knauss Fellow myself. The first step toward that goal was getting selected as a 2021 Knauss Finalist. While Placement Week sounds like it’s always an intense experience, this year’s shift to an all-virtual setting presented some unique moments. After navigating the challenges of technology glitches, random interruptions in internet connectivity, and the fatigue of staring at a screen for hours, I was placed with the Office of Policy and Constituent Affairs in NOAA’s National Ocean Service (NOS). I’ll be working with Glenn Boledovich as an Ocean and Coastal Policy Analyst.
I’m very excited to be a Knauss Fellow and hope the experience will further my interest in how science is translated into policy creation and implementation in order to enhance and conserve our natural resources. While I’ve had some exposure to this process during my graduate school experiences, the Knauss Fellowship will give me the opportunity to observe, and engage with, the process at the federal level. For my career goals, my host office seems like the perfect fit.
I’m excited to start this position and learn more about policy at both the executive and legislative levels of the federal government. And of course, I’m excited to hopefully meet my host office, as well as my Knauss cohort, in person later this upcoming year.
Monday, September 14, 2020
Studying rock snot with Molly Wozniak
![]() |
Here’s me holding a big pile of didymo! Photo: Molly
Wozniak |
The Little Rapids area of the St. Marys River where I
conducted my field research and worked this summer. Photo: Molly Wozniak |
![]() |
Stalks of didymo can be seen on the rocks from above the
water in the St. Marys River. Photo: Molly Wozniak |
Molly and her research mentor, Dr. Ashley Moerke, are
ready for field sampling after getting their wetsuits on. Photo: Molly Wozniak |
![]() |
A control plot from my research sites. Didymo can be seen
heavily coating the rocks in the area and the colored rocks mark the borders of
the sampling area. Photo: Molly Wozniak |
![]() |
One of the treatment plots that was scrubbed clean of
didymo for my research. It’s crazy to see the difference between the two plots!
Photo: Molly Wozniak |
Friday, August 28, 2020
Julianne Grenn's Grayling Hatchery Gazette
![]() |
| A family safely visits the Grayling Hatchery during Summer 2020. Photo: Julianne Grenn |
![]() |
| Kids can fish in the Children's Pond for free. Photo: Julianne Grenn |
Our mission is to establish the hatchery as a hub of learning and discovery--a place where all can come to experience the wonders and beauty of the Au Sable River. We aim to educate our guests about the history, ecology, and conservation of the Au Sable River for generations.
![]() |
| Visitors can explore the hatchery facility. Photo: Julianne Grenn |
We are currently raising 1,300 Rainbow Trout, which were donated by the MI DNR. Following our mission to preserve and protect the Au Sable, fish are reared at low densities to provide a local attraction while conserving the river. Additionally, the hatchery partnered with the Anglers of the Au Sable to conduct water quality tests at locations above and below the hatchery to ensure that phosphate and total suspended particle loads are minimized.
We continue to work alongside scientists and advocacy groups to limit our footprint on the environment and provide learning opportunities for all who visit the hatchery. At the end of the summer, all of the trout are transferred to local lakes where anglers can pursue them.
We are open to the public on Saturdays and Sundays from 12-4 pm and offer a variety of engaging activities for guests. Due to COVID 19, we cannot provide fee-fishing, but those ages 16 and under are welcome to fish in the Children's Pond for free. Guests also can feed the trout in two of our raceways and the king-sized bluegill and painted turtles in the Children's Fishing Pond. Visiting our turtle sanctuary is a special treat, as it houses a rare Blanding's Turtle and is one of the more popular attractions for children.
![]() |
| The Blanding’s Turtle
who lives in the turtle sanctuary might pose for photos. Photo: Julianne Grenn |
A mural of an Arctic Grayling will be painted on the back of the new visitor's center by a local artist! The interior of the center, formerly the admission building, has already been painted, and both the indoor and outdoor spaces will feature nearly 30 informational signs. These improvements culminated with the publication and release of the hatchery's first self-guided tour brochure.
![]() |
| The resident Blanding's Turtle soaks in some sunshine. Photo: Julianne Grenn |
Friday, February 28, 2020
Professional development adventures with Kathryn Frens
I went to West Virginia and took a class about planning for climate change. This training course was focused on planning processes in general and also on scenario planning, which has been a big part of my fellowship research. It was held at the National Conservation Training Center, which is the U.S. Fish and Wildlife’s training center/summer camp in the woods.
I went to the Gulf of Mexico and fished for sharks. This was probably the coolest thing I did during my fellowship, and it was also practical in that it gave me some hands-on fishery experience (I didn’t have any before.) I learned how a longline works and how to pull otoliths, among other new skills. Also, SHARKS!!!!
![]() |
| Sharks! Photo: Kathryn Frens |
![]() |
| Leis and lanyards at SACNAS in Hawaii. Photo: Kathryn Frens |
![]() |
| The Knauss cohort. Photo: Kathryn Frens |
So long, and thanks for all the fish.
Thursday, December 5, 2019
A day in the life of Knauss Fellow Kathryn Frens
Like Jillian did a couple of months ago, I’d like to give you all a walk-through of a random day in my life as a Knauss Fellow in the National Marine Fisheries Service Office of Sustainable Fisheries. I decided to do this blog when I got into work this morning, so I’ll be writing about my day as it happens. I have two meetings and a webinar scheduled, which is a bit more than usual, and I have several long-term projects going.
8:30 am: Get to work, read emails, go over schedule for the day and prioritize.
9:00 am: Meet with co-workers to update each other on the status of three pieces of guidance working their way through the release process. These documents all have to do with National Standard 1 (in the Magnuson-Stevens Act) and are meant to help managers decide how best to calculate how much fish should be caught in a given year. This is more complicated than it sounds, and we’re coordinating three groups of high-level scientists and managers scattered all over the country.
10:00 am: Sit down to edit the white paper on scenario planning methods that I’ve been working on for a while. This document will eventually be published by NOAA so that managers who are interested in scenario planning can get a beginner-friendly rundown of the process.
10:45 am: Phone rings. It’s Ryan from one of the regional fisheries offices, calling to talk about some data he has on the outcomes of NMFS’s Bycatch Reduction Engineering Program grants. I’m trying to find out how often the research funded by these grants actually affects management, but I have to rely on people like Ryan, who are on the ground in the regions, to get the data for me.
11:00 am: Team meeting. We get updates on some external meetings that happened recently and talk about how to get or create good graphics for our presentations.
12:00 pm: Lunch at my desk while getting application materials together for a federal job.
12:30 pm: Go through more comments on the scenario planning white paper.
1:00 pm: Tune in to a webinar about navigating climate-driven ecological transformations.
2:00 pm: Livestream a House Water, Oceans, and Wildlife subcommittee hearing.
3:30 pm: Back to the scenario planning white paper.
4:45 pm: Write down what I did today and my priorities for tomorrow.
5:00 pm: Writing group with friends! (Don’t know who needs to hear this, but finish your dissertation before you start your Knauss.)
And that’s a day in my life! I hope this was helpful. Instead of posting pictures of me at my desk, I’ve included some fish I like. Three of them are tangentially related to my next post, and the other is a cowcod.
Thursday, October 24, 2019
Worms, watersheds, and the Anthropocene: Remarks from Jillian Mayer
![]() |
| Photo: Jillian Mayer |
Everyone: look down at your feet. Wiggle your toes in your shoes, and feel the ground beneath them. Recall the path you took to get here tonight. That path, this ground, is first and foremost stolen indigenous land. The community that once called this land home is the Piscataway (and related tribes) and is, by the way, still around. Before we talk about the ocean, we have to understand the land. Part of that means addressing that we have stolen it from others, and are borrowing it from future generations. Let’s take one moment to thank the people that stewarded this land before we were here, and those that will care for it long after we’re worm food.
Speaking of worms: Consider the physical characteristics of the ground. What does it smell like? How many rodents are burrowing beneath us? How many thousands of seeds lie dormant, waiting for a crack in the concrete? Go further down and you’d hit rock, then water, then rock, and eventually magma and a molten iron core. (I think that’s true, though thankfully none of us are geologists up here).
Every step you took tonight happened in a watershed. Every drop of liquid that falls on the surface of that watershed ends up in a stream, which runs to a river, which runs to the sea. The oceans are the headwaters of the skies, and the skies return that water to us as precipitation. The hydrologic cycle!
![]() |
| Photo: Jillian Mayer |
Here are some facts about the Laurentian Great Lakes, because I’m an “expert”:
- Largest source of surface freshwater on earth; coastline is longer than Atlantic and Pacific coasts; water flows from Superior to Ontario; shallow.
- During the Paleozoic Era, which ended about 250 million years ago, the Great Lakes region was a shallow sea.
- The Great Lakes formed 10,000 years ago with the retreat of the Laurentide Ice Sheet.
- Before European settlement, the land held the Anishinaabe civilization, consisting of the “three fires:” Potowatomi, Ojibwe/Chippewa, and Odawa – healthy forests, clean lakes.
- European settlement began in the mid-1850s: mostly trading (furs).
- Intensive logging and polluting factories shaped the region in the late 1800s – early 1900s: clear-cut old-growth forests, hammered rivers, intense runoff and flooding.
- First problematic invasive species: sea lamprey come in ballast water, decimate lake trout
- 1950s: alewife
- 1960s: stocked Pacific salmon
- St. Lawrence Seaway opened in 1959 — invasives galore
- 1990s: zebra mussels
- 2000s: quagga mussels
- 2000s: Asian carp
- Today: upper lakes are oligotrophic, lower lakes are eutrophic; invasive predators and prey; highly managed lake levels – A MESS
![]() |
| Photo: Jillian Mayer |
- Wearing business attire every day is miserable.
- Honoring treaties with Native American tribes and generally throwing our movement’s whole weight behind the unique goal of indigenous sovereignty would solve most of our problems.
- Surprisingly, it turns out that Congress can’t make people do anything. It appears that the goal of policy in our governance structure is to open better paths to better futures. It’s not hand-holding, it’s not hand-dragging. (This is a cheer-ocracy).
- We can and should explain environmental, climate, and oceans issues in language that our audience understands, including the language of economics, patriotism, religion, autonomy, and other values we may not hold. Our own subjective motivation for saving the planet is just that: subjective. Earth is far past the point at which we can sit atop our high moral horses. As scientists, activists, and educators, we must challenge ourselves to find new ways of explaining, showing, understanding, knowing, and solving the complex (primordial) soup of crises we face.
- Go vote. Help register people to vote. Volunteer to drive people to the polls. Do this regardless of party affiliation. Less than 50% of the eligible US population votes. For communities of color especially, exercising this constitutional right has become harder since the repeal of the Voting Rights Act — and everyone suffers when some of us aren’t free. To quote poet Staceyann Chin, “All oppression is connected.” Voting is one tool of many in our toolbox. We need and have a thriving ecosystem of strategies to build a better future. But don’t forget to vote.
- Finally, to quote journalist Mary Schmich and musician Baz Luhrmann, “wear sunscreen.”
Tuesday, August 20, 2019
Women Who Fish Have Stories To Tell: Part 2
In my previous blog, I described the process of facilitating a community-engaged research project about Michigan women who fish for recreation. I used a method called photovoice that combines individual photography with group discussion and storytelling to highlight 15 participants’ unique perspectives. The project culminated in two major events: a photography exhibit at the Carnegie Museum of the Keweenaw and a public presentation at a meeting of the Metro-West Steelheaders Association.
| April Tang presenting to the Metro-West Steelheaders Association in Livonia, Michigan, on June 4, 2019. Photo: Erin Burkett |
| "Sleepy rivers soothe the soul" Photo: Cori Fitzpatrick |
![]() |
| April Tang with her steelhead on a freezing day on the river. Photo: April Tang |




























