When I started internship at the National Disaster Preparation Center (NCDP) since September, I didn’t know what exactly would happen, but I knew what I wanted. I want to understand how institutions deal with disasters and where they are insufficient. I want to turn my passion for climate justice into something more tangible than a line on a classroom conversation or resume. Often, I want to know: How do we transfer people from consciousness to action?
Over the past year, I have had the opportunity to explore this question through literature reviews, slide decks, awarding research, conversations with professors, hurricane impact tracking, blogging, and numerous long-term Google docs, and are full of questions I hope to answer. Even though I don’t have all the solutions, I feel like I’m starting to understand.
Navigation Complexity (and Commuter)
The first few weeks are a mix of nerves, notes and climate justice theory and the elevators of Morningside Heights. I remember my first day at the Columbia Climate School office in Interchurch Center, and accidentally walked into the wrong elevator bank, not sure whether to ask someone for instructions or trust my intuition (I chose the latter; surprisingly, it worked).
That same week, I began reviewing climate justice materials and brainstorming ways to promote visits to South African students interested in climate-related careers.
By October, I was studying a literature review of the International Framework for Climate Justice, integrating information from the public audience, and reviewing a grant proposal aimed at making girls an agent for disaster risk reduction changes. I find myself constantly thinking about visiting – how we ensure that disaster education lives not only in emergency preparation rooms or post-event news, but also in our daily activities.
Storytelling is in line with policy
The Columbia Climate School Display Cabinet is an eye-opener for me. Not only can I connect with professionals in the field, but I also wrote a reflection blog for NCDP, where I explored what the display cabinet means to me as a young researcher.
Writing this article made me realize the stories we told. They shape how people participate in science, policy, and even their role in climate resilience. I began to think more deeply about narrative itself as a form of research.
The idea came to life when I started writing book chapters with the NCDP research team. As the professionals focus on the technology, I conducted literary reviews and wrote case studies in a journalistic style aimed at capturing not only “what” but also “why”.
I hope readers feel the bet of climate literacy – seeing high school students are not only learners, but leaders.
Understand complex systems
As the months passed, my work became more interdisciplinary. I analyzed the consequences of Hurricane Milton and why it was underrated in the media. I explored global frameworks such as the United Nations Disaster Risk Reduction Index and compared the hazard monitoring systems in Seoul and New York City. I revolve around climate denials, the environmental costs of AI and how federal funding shifts affect programs related to equity and environmental justice.
At one point, I found myself in a conversation about what the Trump-era executive orders mean to be public and private money might need to be involved. The dialogue is technical, but the point is clear: Resilient work is profoundly influenced by the policies and power structures surrounding it. Diversified funds are a form of survival.
Improve youth voice
There are some moments that surprised me this year – the best way. Write a chapter; watch my NCDP peers (and myself) conduct research at Teachers College; as a co-author of the new 2025 project promotion; sit in NASA “Lunch and Learning”; Mississippi writes abstracts of research on Duck Mountain, focusing on local climate resilience; propose research ideas about greening, trust emergency management, and the thin lines between awareness and action.
Often, young people should wait for their turn. But this year reminds me: we don’t have to do this. There are not so many times.
But perhaps the most meaningful moment was when I stood in front of a group of New York teachers and shared how disaster education and should exist in high school classrooms. I talked about what I learned outside of school and what I needed from educators to help us inherit the world we inherited. After the speech, I knew my words had an impact, and the teachers really listened.
Often, young people should wait for their turn. But this year reminds me: we don’t have to do this. There are not so many times.
Research does not belong to a age group, it belongs to curious, driven people who are enough to ask tough questions and value the journey of the destination.
What I learned
- Resilience is related to the system and personnel. You can’t make one person better without knowing another.
- Research is as important as data.
- Climate literacy can start early – should. Young people (and you!) are not too young to do the job.
- Curiosity starts with characteristics, and after learning it, it becomes a tool.
- Consciousness is just the beginning. What’s more important is how we go from realization to doing.
Michelle Rozenfeld is a high school intern at the National Disaster Preparation Center of Columbia Climate School and a high school student at Bergen County College.
The views and opinions expressed here are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official status of the Columbia Climate School, the Institute of Earth, or Columbia University.
