Digging in the Dirt Got Me Into Student Climate Action
I have lived through droughts, heatwaves, and wildfires. There were weeks when school was cancelled and we couldn’t breathe the air outside. And this year, my classmates and I evacuated UCLA’s campus to escape the devastating Palisades fire.
Witnessing the current turbulent climate — political and literal — has inspired me and many other environmental advocates to action, but tackling climate change by ourselves is overwhelming; we need support systems.
During high school, my school garden community encouraged my growth as a gardener and leader. In college and beyond, I have found incredible inspiration from students and colleagues who share my dedication to environmentalism in both academic and professional settings. For me, these united communities of people represent true resilience.
I grew up in the suburban hills of the East Bay. I attended El Cerrito High School, a public school with a local garden that welcomes students, faculty, and community members alike. The garden houses orchard trees, berry bushes, and edible flowers, and is home to birds of prey and native pollinators. At the garden, I met Sarah Sirchuk, whom I would fondly come to call my gardening mentor. Under her leadership, the garden has brought the community together.
When catching up with Sarah this summer, she showed me photo albums and reminisced over pictures of old friends, teachers, graduates, and families. Her happiness was evident as she told me stories about the people who helped build the garden from the ground up, and how they created the herb garden, orchard, and wooden vegetable boxes that I know today. There are pictures of students building succulent gardens and cooking stir-fries together. Sarah chuckled and pointed to a photo of a smiling student, saying, “This student was particularly tickled that she had cooked something herself!”
The garden provides opportunities for teens to try new things and exposes them to growing and preparing their own food. Students often spend their lunch periods sitting in the garden, soaking up the sun and even playing Ping-Pong between classes. Being located at a public school makes this garden unique, serving as a natural classroom. But Sarah says that many people are disconnected from the natural world, growing up in places where nature is inaccessible. The garden allows students to play in the dirt, she says.
I felt this sentiment myself as a high school student: the garden was my safe space, and I quickly became involved with the student garden club. I spent mornings before calculus exams tending to the garden, which reduced my anxiety and stress. We even held class in the garden for English socratic seminars.
My experiences with extreme climate events, combined with my love for nature and gardening, made my decision to study environmental science at UCLA easy. At a school with more than 33,000 students, having a tight-knit community is critical. Many students are involved with campus groups such as the student-run edible garden, ecological undergraduate association, and environmental clubs.
Seeking a community of my own, I found the Environmental Student Network, where I made close friends who are just as passionate about the planet as I am. ESN has a mentorship program in which first and second year students are matched with third and fourth years who share advice on classes and internships, and bond with fellow students. ESN also hosts restoration events, volunteer days, and collaborates with local nonprofits.
I joined ESN under the leadership of Faith Shortridge, an enthusiastic naturalist who has continued on to positions with the UC Davis Tahoe Environmental Research Center and UC Berkeley’s GrizzlyCorps. Upon entering UCLA, Faith had no idea what she wanted to do. But through ESN, she was exposed to diverse perspectives that helped her find her path within the environmental field. “Being inspired by and learning from students older and younger than you is awesome,” she told me on a recent phone call.
In a time of harsh climate realities and political conflicts, environmental work is often demoralizing. But within a network like ESN, people can face problems together. “You get to bounce ideas off of them, and remain optimistic,” says Faith. “You’re exposed to good things that you might not know about if you aren’t in network with them. It’s not all doom and gloom. Everyone is trying their best to do their little part to save the planet. We can’t do it ourselves — we need community.”
As I find my own pathway through the environmental field, I look for opportunities to utilize my scientific knowledge, passion for nature and communities, and love for the Bay Area. This past summer, I worked as an intern on climate adaptation and resilience projects in the region. In September, I attended the 2025 Bay Adapt Summit hosted by the Bay Conservation and Development Commission, and was blown away by the collaboration and unity within the climate resilience network. I was overwhelmed with happiness hearing about the work, from research on living seawalls to equitable protection of frontline communities. It seems that in every step of my life, I discover communities working together to solve problems.
My gardening mentor Sarah says that young people such as Faith and myself give her hope in the face of looming environmental challenges. There are positive things happening throughout the world, we just have to keep our ears open and connect with each other. Shared spaces such as the El Cerrito garden, student circles such as UCLA’s ESN, and professional networks are just a few examples of the importance of collaboration. If we are going to survive, we need the strength and resilience of communities.

Photo: Sydney Quan