Every September, Climate Week descends on New York City with an unmistakable velocity. Sidewalks fill with delegates moving between panels. Conference rooms hum with debates on emerging technologies and global policy. Calendars quickly fill with handshakes to follow up after the week comes to a close. There is undeniable value in this annual convergence. It draws together thousands of people from across the planet who are dedicated to confronting ecological breakdown and reimagining human systems. The sheer intensity can easily make it feel like everything is urgent. But earlier in the week, a different cadence opened inside Tavern on the Green.
Transformed by Goals House into a sunlit sanctuary filled with potted plants and natural light from Central Park, A New Earth Project, Blue Marine Foundation, and Earthrise Studio convened Mother Nature: Women Leading the Future of Conservation and Storytelling. The room felt less like a conventional conference hall and more like a shared living room. Stepping inside was an invitation and a reminder that the work of ecological stewardship requires presence, relational care, and steady patience.
Hosted and moderated by National Geographic Explorer, documentary filmmaker, and Earthrise Studio co-founder Alice Aedy, the session brought together women leaders spanning landscapes from the Saskatchewan River Delta to coastal mangroves and the Amazon. Through film, music, poetry, art, and candid dialogue, the gathering offered a holistic vision of conservation, one where protecting biodiversity is inseparable from defending human rights, nurturing community resilience, and honoring cultural heritage.
Xiye Bastida, Executive Director of the Re-Earth Initiative, opened the session by centering climate justice and intergenerational leadership, emphasizing that solutions must honor the dignity and wisdom of frontline communities. Her remarks were followed by a video message from conservation photographer and SeaLegacy co-founder Cristina Mittermeier, who underscored the power of visual storytelling in ocean protection.
In an original composition on cello and live-looped ceramic bells titled “Two Notes,” artist and Rurban founder Rebecca Hui performed alongside spoken-word poetry from Alexa Firmenich, founder of the Naia Trust, who later joined a discussion on building an ecocentric nature economy.
Aedy guided a conversation with Rebecca Tickell, director, writer, and producer at Groundswell, exploring how regenerative environmental storytelling and narrative films can expand the public imagination around land restoration.
Nadina Gardner, Executive Director of Sākēsiw, brought the presence of the Saskatchewan River Delta, the largest inland freshwater delta in North America, into the room. She spoke of the delicate ecology of that vast system of waterways and forest, and the generations of Indigenous families whose survival remains inseparable from its health, recalling the word her father left behind before he passed:restoration.
Looking at landscapes from high above, space ecologist Dr. Lola Fatoyinbo (affiliated with MIT and formerly with NASA) shared her pioneering work mapping mangrove vulnerability and coastal carbon storage using satellite remote sensing. Ali Ciatti, who leads Climate and Sustainability Creator Partnerships at YouTube, addressed the power of digital media to translate complex ecological challenges into accessible narratives for global audiences.
To close the gathering, Willow Defebaugh, co-founder and editor-in-chief of Atmos Magazine], delivered an immersive poem, “Song of the Arctic,” inspired by her experiences in Svalbard.
What made these diverse voices resonate was the recognition that conservation cannot happen in isolation. Across art, science, storytelling, Indigenous knowledge, and finance, the afternoon demonstrated how deeply interconnected our efforts must be.
Now that Climate Week has passed, the streets of Manhattan have returned to their normal rhythms. In a culture driven by immediacy, there is always pressure to rush out rapid commentary and claim instant impact.
Yet the gathering at Tavern on the Green offered a lasting counterweight to that impulse. Climate Week is a brief, concentrated moment on the calendar, but the actual work of conservation happens every single day, in the generational defense of an ancestral river, the quiet monitoring of a coastline, the patient structuring of ecocentric investments, and the faithful crafting of stories that honor the living world.
Alongside urgency, we need patience. Alongside technical innovation, we need relationship. The measure of our work will not be found in how fast we moved during a single week in September, but in how faithfully we practice that care in the days, months, and years that follow.
We invite you to learn more about these extraordinary women and follow the work they are leading across conservation, culture, science, and storytelling.