at middlebury college, climate action isn’t just an institutional priority; it’s a student-driven movement with deep roots. building on the legacy of student activism and the achieving institutional carbon neutrality in 2016, middlebury’s climate action program engages students as agents of change.

the program was established in 2020 with support from the erol foundation and is now endowed in partnership with nextworld philanthropies. guided by principles that deepen existing work, broaden participation, and connect efforts across disciplines, the program helps students translate climate concern into purposeful action through hands-on projects, collaborative learning, and campus-wide events.

at the heart of the initiative is the climate action fellowship, a year-long, paid position that allows students to turn their passion into action. fellows partner with relevant organizations (on or off campus) to design tangible projects in sustainability or climate. the fellowship gives students both time and resources, including compensation for their effort. through this, students deepen applied skills, test ideas in real-world settings, and participate in a cohort of peers pushing for impact.

at a time when academic programs like this are vital for supporting students’ career goals, i spoke with the climate action program’s director, minna brown, about how the fellowship works, why student agency matters, and what gives her hope for the future.

the following contents have been edited for length and clarity.

shayah kosak: thanks for taking the time to talk, minna. to begin, how did the climate action program get started, and what gap did it aim to address?

minna brown: the program grew directly out of student needs. after middlebury launched its energy 2028 commitment, donors, faculty, and staff asked: how do we truly support student engagement on climate? we had plenty of passion, but no structures that gave students agency or compensated them for their time.

working with student leaders, including those active in the divestment movement, we identified a fellowship as the centerpiece. each year, at least 20 fellows are paid to pursue projects of their own design, with training and mentorship. some projects build on existing work; others open new doors. the goal is to center student voices and create lasting pathways into climate action.

sk: so a key differentiator of the fellowship is student agency, the chance to shape their own projects?

mb: exactly. agency doesn’t mean starting something brand new every time. often it’s about strengthening what already exists and building momentum together. many students are already active; our role is to provide the resources that help them reach the next level.

sk: how do you track student success during the program and after graduation?

mb: the fellowship is a core hub, but we serve the whole campus; funding projects, hosting workshops, and offering training.

for fellows, we build in reflection and showcases. students come in with their own lens, such as migration, gender, and the arts, and we want the community to see how those perspectives matter for climate.

we now have about 50 alumni in just five years. they’re generous about giving back: hopping on calls with current fellows to talk about grad school or first jobs. alumni are everywhere, from the park service to the alaska fellows program to graduate programs in divinity, medicine, and law. we’re also creating networks on linkedin and through an advisory council. mentorship is a big focus, connecting students with alums and also alums with each other. and we push students to get beyond the middlebury bubble through conferences and outside speakers.

sk: what could other educators and institutions learn from this program?

mb: a few things stand out. first, it’s cross-disciplinary, open to all majors. second, it lasts a full year, with many fellows returning for a second year. third, it’s compensated, which allows students to participate who otherwise couldn’t.

most importantly, it centers student passions. that agency piece can feel daunting, but it develops real capacity. we’re not just filling pre-set slots; we’re listening to students and prioritizing their ideas and activism.

sk: in the midst of this work, what gives you hope, and how do you carry that into your role?

mb: my mindset is: if this is the time i get to be alive, what an opportunity to be alive when it matters. even small contributions, showing up, building community, and finding creative solutions count.

i began thinking deeply about climate as a student here. now, as a parent, i ask: what would i be proud to have been part of? that question guides me every day.

sk: do you have a story that captures the fellowship’s impact?

mb: one is kamryn y.m., who immersed herself in every opportunity: the climate semester in monterey, planet forward, launching fire (fostering inclusive recreational experiences), and helping us imagine a climate certificate program. kamryn pulled diverse pieces together in ways that amplified everyone’s work.

another is mariia d., an economics major who joined in her last year. climate hadn’t felt like “her” space, but she quickly became a leader, helping organize the beyond bretton woods conference and connecting climate, economics, and finance. watching students find their inroad and then become catalysts for others is what the fellowship is all about.

sk: where do you hope the climate action program will be in the next five to 10 years?

mb: middlebury has had strong leadership and supportive funders, so core pieces, fellowships, events, and workshops will continue. at the same time, we have space to be creative and strategic. student needs aren’t going away; our role is to meet them as they evolve.

in the short term, we’re convening students, alums, faculty, and community members for a conference called what works now? to explore exactly where climate action should go next.

sk: finally, what inspired you personally to devote yourself to environmental education?

mb: i grew up in oregon with environmentalist parents, then came to middlebury partly for languages and partly because of its environmental reputation. the early 2000s here were a magical moment; bill mckibben was on campus, and students were sparking new forms of engagement. taking john isham’s j-term class on climate and social movements was a turning point.

after college, i worked in climate organizing and burned out. that experience shaped me. i want students to feel less alone, to experiment, and to find sustainable ways to do this work. graduate school at yale helped me see how education could be that path. returning to middlebury to direct this program at my alma mater feels incredibly fortunate.

sk: and we’re fortunate to have you.

as the fellowship enters its sixth year, brown sees the program as both a launchpad and a community: a place where students learn their voices matter and climate work takes many forms. for her, the lesson is clear: investing in student agency is investing in the future of climate leadership.

however, a series of hydroelectric dams, built between 1918 and 1962, severed the river’s natural flow, blocking fish migration, degrading water quality, and threatened the cultural and economic lifeways of the yurok, karuk, hoopa, and klamath tribes. 

in 2024, the klamath river finally broke free. the largest dam removal in history dismantled the copco no. 1, copco no. 2, j.c. boyle, and iron gate dams, restoring the river’s flow and reconnecting over 420 miles of salmon habitat. this historic moment was the result of decades of relentless advocacy by indigenous tribes, conservationists, and scientists who fought through legal battles, policy roadblocks, and corporate resistance.

the yurok, karuk, hoopa, and klamath tribes led the charge, using lawsuits, protests, and negotiations to challenge pacificorp, the energy company that owned the dams. now, with the river flowing freely once more, it is reshaping itself in real time.

to truly grasp the scale of this remarkable transformation, i traveled to the klamath river and stood where the dams once held its waters still. the sheer magnitude of the project was overwhelming. towering canyon walls bore stark water lines, ghostly reminders of how high the water once stood.

exposed earth, cracked and raw, stretched where reservoirs had been, revealing a landscape in transition. without the dams, the river surged forward, cutting through decades of sediment, carving new channels, reshaping itself before my eyes.

more than just seeing it, i could feel it. the movement of the river was no longer theoretical — it was visceral. the sound of rushing water filled the canyon, a force that had been stifled for over a century now free to find its way.

the air was thick with sediment, carrying the scent of a river reclaiming its path. it was a rare moment where history, ecology, and human effort converged into something tangible. the klamath wasn’t just recovering; it was alive in a way that felt almost defiant.

standing by the water, i spoke with resource environmental solutions (res) workers, the team responsible for restoring habitat and monitoring the river’s transformation. res, an ecological restoration company, has played a key role in the klamath’s recovery, working closely with numerous stakeholders to guide the river’s transition back to a free-flowing system.

their goal was not just to remove dams but to rebuild a resilient, self-sustaining ecosystem — one that supports salmon, strengthens biodiversity, and restores the cultural connection that local tribes have maintained with the river for generations.

their work extends far beyond the riverbanks. the removal of the reservoirs exposed thousands of acres of bare land, areas once submerged under still water. left unmanaged, these newly revealed landscapes could quickly be overrun by invasive species or eroded away.

to prevent this, res has launched an ambitious effort to stabilize sediment, reintroduce native plant life, and restore floodplain function. they are planting over 17 billion native seeds, carefully selected to match the region’s historical vegetation and ensure that the surrounding habitat is as healthy as the river itself.

collaboration with the yurok, karuk, hoopa and klamath tribes is central to this process. together, they are integrating traditional ecological knowledge with modern restoration techniques, prioritizing the protection of spawning grounds and nursery habitats for juvenile salmon. by reshaping channels, restoring wetlands, and allowing the river to carve its own path, they aim to create a landscape where salmon, and the communities that depend on them, can thrive once again.

and already, the salmon are returning. 

the res workers described to me how they had spotted salmon not just in the mainstem of the klamath, but also in its tributaries, places where the fish had been absent for generations. with smiles on their faces, they recounted stories of salmon surging upstream, reaching areas that had been previously cut off by the dams. 

hearing their firsthand accounts was powerful, but i also wanted to see the river’s transformation at scale — beyond what could be observed from a single vantage point. that’s where remote sensing comes in.

using satellite imagery from nasa and the us geological survey’s landsat 9, i built an interactive tool to track how vegetation is returning to areas once covered by reservoirs. when the dams were removed, thousands of acres of land were suddenly exposed — terrain that had been underwater for countless decades. the question now is: how is that land recovering? is vegetation returning? 

to investigate, i used a normalized difference vegetation index (ndvi), a method that analyzes satellite images to assess plant health and density. by comparing images from before dam removal (2022) and after (2024), i could measure how much vegetation has begun to regrow.

the interactive tool i created allows users to swipe between the two time periods, making it possible to visually track where the landscape is recovering — and where more restoration work may be needed. the tool is initially centered on the former iron gate reservoir and copco lake, but users can pan and zoom to explore much more of the klamath river basin. 

interactive map using the ndvi method to show the before and after of dam removal. (shayah kosak)

the klamath dam removals prove that restoration is possible — for ecosystems and for the communities that depend on them. this project stands as a model for integrating tribal leadership, science, and policy to repair environmental damage. it demonstrates that when those most connected to the land are empowered to lead, lasting change is possible.

as salmon return and vegetation takes hold, the klamath’s recovery is more than just an ecological success — it is a testament to resilience and reclamation. it serves as a powerful reminder that rivers, when given the chance, will always find their way home.

editor’s note: coverage of water stories is made possible, in part, by the walton family foundation.  the editorial content is determined by planet forward staff and students. we thank the walton family foundation for their continued support.