Terrell Roulston counts bees.
During his undergraduate studies at St. Mary’s University in Halifax, the 22-year-old helped discover that there are many more bees in Nova Scotia’s marshes than previously thought.
In her master’s degree at the University of British Columbia, she is applying her knowledge to bee health in the Pacific Northwest.
This piece is part of a series of profiles highlighting young people across the country who are tackling the climate crisis. These extraordinary human beings give me hope. I write these stories to return the favor.
Tell us about your work.
Most of the cultivated land in Nova Scotia is on land that has been leveed to contain flooding from the ocean. Replacing dikes with salt marshes is increasingly seen by researchers as a viable nature-based solution with many benefits. My work helped demonstrate that native bee species and other pollinators are relatively abundant in saltmarshes, and when left alone, pollinator populations thrive in short periods of time, which in turn results in saltmarshes becoming increasingly more resistant.
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Farmers need bees and pollinators to produce crops. We now know that if we promote salt marshes, we can save farmers tens of millions they now spend importing honey bees (apis mellifera) since the marshes will provide this service free of charge. Also, since native bees and other pollinators are more effective than honey bees, it will increase crop yields. Salt marshes are an excellent nature-based adaptation and mitigation tool to manage sea level rise as a result of climate change and are more cost-effective than levees. Decision makers have even more reason to leave marshes alone and encourage new ones to appear.
What is your job in the Pacific Northwest?
During his undergraduate studies at St. Mary’s University in Halifax, the 22-year-old helped discover that there are many more bees in Nova Scotia’s marshes than previously thought. #ClimateYouthAction
Another species of bee, impatient Bombus, it was introduced to British Columbia in the 1990s by commercial greenhouse operations that lacked a full understanding of potential impacts. Unsurprisingly, despite efforts to contain them, they escaped and are now a threat to ecosystem integrity from Vancouver to potentially Northern California. They threaten local pollinator populations because they are effective competitors and also exploit resources until fall, later than most other native bees. Many native bees and native plants have a specialized relationship, meaning if you lose one, you lose the other, so the ecosystems in the region can change. Scientists watch with concern.
Flowering plants are by far the most numerous plant species, with 85 percent requiring pollination. Without pollinators, humans have no food. Any threat to bees must be taken very seriously.
How did you become so interested in bees?
I grew up on a farm in the Annapolis Valley in Nova Scotia and my dad kept bees. When he was a child, she enjoyed helping him split beehives and make honey. The vast majority of bees are very docile and I felt calm among them. When the opportunity arose to participate in bee research during the summer after my freshman year of college, I jumped at the chance.
In grade 6, we were tasked with measuring our carbon footprints. I was surprised by mine and even then I felt compelled to reduce it and do much more to resist climate catastrophe. In eighth grade, we watched a David Attenborough movie and felt invited into a world of wonder, which, along with my parents’ commitment to curiosity and questioning received wisdom, has made me the curious scientist I am today.
What makes your job hard?
I have attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, which adds to the feeling of being overwhelmed. It’s hard being a student. The level of complexity facing all scientists is significantly higher than ever, and as those of us doing field research, we are necessarily affected by this. We are expected to do much more than previous generations. The cost of everything from tuition to housing to food is high, and the pressure to succeed in our fight to preserve a habitable planet is all-consuming. Combine that with the isolation and uncertainty of the pandemic, and burnout is common.
What gives you hope?
Government and non-government decision-makers in industry and civil society are changing, though it often seems too little too late. Regardless of their discipline or area of interest, my colleagues are so awake and engaged that it seems impossible for us not to succeed.
Do you have any advice for other young people?
Rise your hand. I was just a kid on a farm and didn’t really have a clear idea of what scientists did. But when a professor said she knew of a summer bee research opportunity and invited anyone interested to contact her, I plucked up the courage and knocked on her door. Without taking that first nervous step, I wouldn’t be where I am today.
What would you like to say to older readers?
A great change is needed to save the world for human habitation. When you hear young people agitate for bigger and faster changes, recognize the truth that we are not wrong. Yes, in the past change has happened slowly. But we’ve run out of time. We need your wisdom and experience to help us do great things really fast.