We have had the privilege of working together for several years now, but it was a conservation science conference in 2014 where some of the ideas that would become Raucous Conservation really started gelling. The conference was full of interesting sessions and people doing impressive work. We presented on our research, listened to keynotes, wandered poster sessions… and felt a little lonely. As graduates of interdisciplinary programs doing work at the interface of science and policy to advance conservation, we shared the same passion for science, value for the environment, and drive to do good that many of the presenters expressed. But it seemed like we were thinking about how to attain our goals in very different ways. The phrase that kept popping up in our conversations was, “where are our people?” As stimulating as it is to learn from those approaching work differently than you are, the nourishment and opportunities for learning offered by a community of people with a similar approach or philosophy was something we craved. “But, who is it that our people even are? What is it that we’re trying to do?” we wondered, with the hand-wringing angst of early career professionals about to enter a transitional time in the conservation movement and on planet earth. 

At a session on scientists and public engagement, we heard repeated reference to the “loading dock” metaphor. This refers to the situation in academia or science more broadly, of developing science while failing to deliver it to policy makers, the general public or other “users.” Instead, the information is left on the university “loading dock,” without much consideration for how it gets moved from there. Mind blow moment! Our people must be the truck drivers. We do work in environmental and social sciences ourselves, but spend a whole lot of time focusing on what happens at the loading dock: how information is presented or distributed, to whom, and how to do it in more effective and creative ways. And our trucks drive many different  directions. We spend just as much time working with managers, stakeholders and the public to help direct the focus of scientific research, analysis and interpretation.

We could get into a scary epistemic analysis here about whether in the world of science-policy there is actually a truck or a loading dock, or any distinctions or boundaries between disciplines, between experts and public. But suffice to say we decided that in practice, we are in the in-between. We are the bridge builders, and the connectors. The people who kind of just want to do everything, and to do it well. We are the truck drivers in this raucous, complicated world of opinions and approaches and information about moving forward with effective conversation solutions.

Conservation at the nexus of creativity, community and understanding is a complicated place. And in embracing this complexity we actively seek to leverage the space between disciplines to find practical conservation solutions. Whether in synergy and harmony, or noisy uncontrolled complexity, we created Raucous Conservation as a platform to inspire, stimulate creativity and create community for us in-betweeners. We do Projects, like Uplift, as ways to weave creativity, community and understanding together in new ways, to start uncommon conversations and to try new approaches to move forward in conservation. Soon, we hope, we convene Raucous Retreats: in-person gatherings with other truck drivers to learn from each other and nourish our work.

If this resonates, we hope you’ll join us in Raucous Conservation.

Our Founders

Cari, Collin, and Sasha met in Flagstaff. They like open spaces and wild places and good conversation and making websites, evidently.

Cari Kimball grew up in Billings, Montana and currently works as a rable-rousing program coordinator for the Olajos-Goslow Endowment and the Landscape Conservation Initiative at Northern Arizona University. No one knows exactly what that means, but some of her favorite activities include developing communication materials, writing for LCI, and coordinating science-art collaboratives. She's interested in exploring the cultural and socio-psychological forces that shape our conservation behaviors and our approaches to life in general. Cari earned her B.S. from Linfield College in McMinnville, Oregon and her M.S. from University of Montana, where she was a Wyss Scholar. She runs ultramarathons in a quasi-competitive manner and will talk your ear off about it; don't even get her started.

Collin Haffey spent his first summer after completing his MS in the Environmental Science and Policy program at Northern Arizona University working for the Landscape Conservation Initiative and the Southwest Fire Science Consortium on a variety of projects that included two science and art collaborations and continued research of fire-induced vegetation type conversion. In the fall of 2014 he accepted an ecologist position with the Jemez Mountains Field Station, an NPS and USGS collaborative based in northern New Mexico. There he works closely with land managers and scientists to develop research questions that are relevant to conservation management and study the continued effects of landscape-level changes caused by human land use and climate change. He hopes to continue his public outreach efforts on conservation science issues and solutions in order to develop a strong sense of place, with an eye toward adapting to the future in a way that preserves ecosystem function and community sustainability.

Sasha hails from Southeast Alaska where the magnificent landscapes and controversies of fisheries and forest management shaped her career interests in conservation and community. She graduated from Lewis & Clark College in 2007, where she majored in Biology and was named a Udall scholar. At Lewis & Clark, Sasha received an academic research grant to study endangered butterfly populations on the Oregon Coast and worked with The Nature Conservancy on restoration of butterfly habitat. She spent a semester abroad in Kenya and Tanzania studying community-based conservation, and later returned to the Lewis & Clark East Africa program as a trip leader. Sasha has worked on salmon streams at Sitka National Historical Park, and traveled the Alaskan arctic tracking and monitoring threatened bird species with the USGS Alaska Science Center. Her interest in conservation planning led her to the U.S. Institute for Environmental Conflict Resolution in Tucson, AZ, where she spent three years as a Program Associate and became certified in mediation. Sasha completed her Master’s in Environmental Sciences and Policy at Northern Arizona University in 2014, and was selected as a Wyss Scholar for Conservation of the American West. Sasha's work now focuses on collaborative land-use planning and participatory science. She has maintained her passion for outdoor leadership and experiential education as an educator for the Grand Canyon Semester and an expedition leader for National Geographic Student Expeditions. Sasha loves playing fiddle in a local band, and fishing for salmon with her family in Alaska.