By Ava Tribe, Student in the M.S. in Sustainability Management Program, School of Professional Studies
It’s not every day you get to strap on fins and jump into the ocean for a class. But during Sustainability & Resilience of Tropical Coastal Ecosystems, offered by the M.S. in Sustainability Science (MoSSS) program at Columbia University School of Professional Studies (SPS), that was our reality. The course was taught by faculty member William Precht, director of coastal and marine sciences for Bio-Tech Consulting, with Chandler Precht (’22SPS, Sustainability Science), director of external affairs and communications for the Office of Environmental Professional Programs and a lecturer in sustainability management at Columbia, helping lead and facilitate the immersive field experience. Sarah Howard, a current MoSSS student and assistant director in the senior vice dean’s office, served as the course associate. Together, they guided us through an experience in which each day brought a new challenge, a new adventure, and another reason to wake up excited for what lay ahead.
Our group of 20 arrived on Grand Cayman on July 8 and gathered that evening for dinner, where we quickly learned each other’s names and backgrounds. The next morning, we spent the day at the Cayman Islands Department of Environment (DOE), where staff members introduced us to the conservation work shaping the islands’ future. Deputy Director Timothy Austin spoke about the DOE’s past mangrove restoration projects, explaining how propagules were first cultivated in isolated nurseries before being transplanted into degraded coastal areas, highlighting the process that has transformed land once devastated by development into thriving mangrove forests. He also shared the department’s seagrass restoration efforts and reflected on the devastating environmental impacts Hurricane Ivan left on the island in 2004. Jane Haakonsson, from the terrestrial resources unit, introduced us to the challenges posed by invasive species and the ongoing work to protect native wildlife. Kelly Forsythe explained the Blue Belt Programme, which combines education and research to improve fisheries management, and highlighted the serious consequences of overfishing throughout the Cayman Islands. By the end of the day, my notebook was overflowing, my head was spinning with new information, and I had gained a deep appreciation for the people dedicating their careers to protecting these ecosystems.
Taking our lesson into the water to learn about coral reefs while seeing the ecosystems we were studying firsthand.
The following day, we met with the general manager of the Marriott, a hotel that was once known for its white sand beach but has since watched much of that shoreline disappear due to sea level rise and coastal erosion. Restoring the beach isn’t simply about tourism or hotel revenue; it’s also about protecting the surrounding community while rebuilding habitat that benefits wildlife and strengthens coastal resilience. From there, we boarded a Department of Environment research boat and traveled around the island’s coastline before stopping at the famous Stingray City. Floating in the crystal-clear water alongside southern stingrays was an unforgettable reminder that the ecosystems we had spent hours discussing in lectures were very much alive beneath us. Those first few days passed in a blur, and before long, we were headed to Little Cayman for the next chapter of the course.
On July 11, we arrived at the Central Caribbean Marine Institute (CCMI), where we would spend the remainder of the program immersed in both marine science and island life. Little Cayman, the smallest of the three Cayman Islands, quickly became home. We settled into bunk-bed rooms; adjusted to compost toilets, five-minute showers, and mosquitoes around every corner; and fully immersed ourselves in island life. Every morning began with an oceanfront sunrise and the sound of waves brushing against the shore. No two days looked exactly alike. Sometimes we were snorkeling before we had fully woken up, and other mornings we wandered into the classroom in flip-flops, covered in sunscreen and ready for another lecture. Living together at CCMI transformed the course into something far beyond a traditional graduate class. Normally, students arrive, take notes, and head home when class ends. Here, there was no separation between learning and community. We spent nearly every waking hour together, from sharing meals and discussing lectures to laughing late into the evening and continuing conversations long after class was over. In many ways, it reminded me of elementary school: learning alongside friends all day, exploring together between lessons, and ending each evening with stories that somehow made the next morning even more exciting. It was the kind of camaraderie you simply can’t recreate in a conventional classroom.
For some of us, it was our first time snorkeling. Others had years of diving experience. Regardless of where we started, the ocean became common ground. We faced strong currents, inconsistent visibility, and weather that rarely cooperated, but every time we climbed back onto the boat, we were smiling.
Our class represented an incredible range of backgrounds. Some classmates had practiced law. Others came from transportation, energy, technology, or environmental policy. Yet despite our different careers, we all shared one thing: a genuine love for the ocean. One evening, we found ourselves sitting quietly on the steps outside CCMI, watching the sun disappear beneath the horizon. No one felt the need to fill the silence. With nowhere to rush off to and little cell service pulling our attention elsewhere, conversations became deeper than I ever expected. I learned about classmates’ families, career changes, childhoods, fears, and aspirations — the kinds of conversations that rarely happen over a few minutes before class begins on campus.
Tidepooling after dark and discovering the marine life that comes alive along the shore at night.
Much of our learning happened in the water. We completed beach and boat snorkels around the island while learning to identify coral species like Orbicella, along with native marine life, including Nassau grouper, stingrays, lobsters, and sea turtles. We watched a green sea turtle graze along the reef before surfacing for air, and on another snorkel, we encountered a hawksbill turtle feeding peacefully among the seagrass. Our fieldwork extended beyond coral reefs, however. We explored mangrove forests along boardwalks until we could confidently distinguish each species by its unique characteristics. We then tested our adventurous spirits by climbing into the tannin-stained, muddy red water to experience the mangroves from within. Professor Precht moved through the water without hesitation, gathering roots, leaves, and sediment while encouraging us to touch, smell, and closely observe everything we had spent days studying. It elevated experiential learning to an entirely different level. I had previously taken a biodiversity course and even written a research paper on mangroves, but I didn’t truly understand their ecological importance until I stood among their roots, felt the sediment beneath my feet, and saw firsthand the habitat they create below the surface.
Getting up close with the mangroves to learn about their unique qualities and importance to coastal ecosystems.
We also conducted seagrass surveys, breaking into research teams to measure growth and species composition while swimming against surprisingly strong currents. Between poor visibility, measuring tapes drifting in the water, and teammates shouting measurements back and forth, collecting accurate data was no easy task. Yet Professor Precht reminded us that marine biologists don't only collect data on calm, sunny days. Field science happens in real conditions, and learning to adapt is part of becoming a scientist.
By the end of the week, we sat for our final exam, and I surprised myself with what I had learned. I could explain the chemistry behind coral calcification, the symbiotic relationship between coral and zooxanthellae algae, identify local coral, seagrass, and mangrove species, and describe the ecological zonation patterns that shape coastal ecosystems. I understood ocean acidification, coral bleaching, and the diseases threatening reefs not just as concepts from a textbook, but as challenges I had witnessed firsthand.
Ecological resilience sits at the heart of addressing climate change and protecting the ecosystems we depend on. This course didn’t just teach me those ideas — it allowed me to experience them. But perhaps the greatest lesson extended beyond marine ecology.
I left Little Cayman feeling as though I had attended a summer camp for graduate students — one where strangers became close friends through shared curiosity, muddy fieldwork, long conversations, and countless hours spent exploring the ocean together. It was an environment that encouraged us to think more deeply, ask better questions, and see the natural world in ways I never had before.
What makes this experience especially meaningful is that I didn't arrive with a background in marine biology or ecology. My undergraduate degree is in political communication, with minors in science and environmental studies, and my professional path has centered on sustainable fashion and global supply chains. At Columbia, I focus on supply chain sustainability and currently intern with the Human Rights Foundation’s “Wear Your Values” initiative, researching labor rights in the fashion industry. At the same time, I have always loved the ocean, wildlife, and conservation. After taking a biodiversity course at Columbia, I realized I wanted to weave those passions into my sustainability work. To my surprise, many of my classmates were searching for something similar. Although our backgrounds differed, many of us were trying to connect multiple interests into a career that felt both interdisciplinary and meaningful.
From the very beginning, Professor Precht emphasized that this course was about building exactly that kind of foundation. As he often reminded us, “The more tools you have in your toolbox, the more problems you can solve.” I would add: the more opportunities you’ll have to make a difference.
This course gave me far more than scientific knowledge. It expanded how I think about sustainability, showed me the value of experiential learning, and added new tools to my toolbox. Long after the species names fade from memory, I’ll carry with me the perspective this experience provided, and I know it will continue shaping both my academic journey and the work I hope to do for years to come.
Views and opinions expressed here are those of the authors, and do not necessarily reflect the official position of Columbia University School of Professional Studies or Columbia University.
About the Program
The Columbia University M.S. in Sustainability Science program, offered by the Office of Environmental Professional Programs in the School of Professional Studies in partnership with the Climate School, prepares students for management and leadership positions in which they help organizations address environmental impacts. Students learn strategies to respond to the ever-changing environment and predict future environmental changes—and the impact on corporations, not-for-profits, and the public.
Designed by Research Faculty at the Lamont-Doherty Earth Observatory in collaboration with Columbia’s Earth Institute, the program develops a new generation of scientific leaders through a cutting-edge curriculum led by the world’s top sustainability scientists, the majority of whom are Lamont Research Professors. Graduates are well prepared for management and leadership positions, armed with the scientific expertise to drive meaningful environmental change and lead organizations in a rapidly evolving sustainability landscape. With the flexibility to choose from a variety of courses, students can tailor their education to career goals, while New York City serves as a living laboratory for sustainability innovations and connects them with employers actively seeking program graduates.
Learn more about the program here.
