Wild Fish For All Scholarship

Raven McAdams, MSc student at Cal Poly Humboldt

“Wild, native fish are a vital part of our ecosystems and cultural heritage. This scholarship will allow me to further my studies in fisheries science and contribute to innovative solutions for native fish conservation. I’m deeply grateful for this opportunity and support from the Native Fish Society and Tualatin Valley TU Chapter.”

I am a proud member of the Yurok Tribe in California, and with that title comes a responsibility I deeply value: to protect our ecosystems and resources for future generations. Growing up in Humboldt County, I’ve always felt a deep connection to the land, water, and natural life here. From a young age, I was drawn to the aquatic world: exploring tide pools to discover hidden life, flipping rocks in rivers and streams to find frogs, and fishing on lakes. These early experiences shaped my path and showed me that protecting these waters and the species within them is my life’s purpose.

To begin this journey, I pursued an undergraduate degree in Marine Biology at Cal Poly Humboldt. There, I gained a solid understanding of aquatic ecosystems but realized I hadn’t learned as much about fish as I wanted. This gap felt significant because wild fish, especially salmon, are essential to my tribe and those around us. Recognizing this, I took steps to deepen my knowledge, leading me to my current path as a master’s student in the Fisheries department at Cal Poly Humboldt. My research focuses on the Sacramento Pikeminnow, an invasive species in the Eel River, CA, where they prey on and outcompete juvenile salmonids and threaten native fish populations. I am attempting to create Trojan YY chromosome “supermales” in the Sacramento Pikeminnow Eel River populations in the hopes that their populations will dramatically skew towards male and (best case scenario) die off. This effort is one of our last opportunities to control pikeminnow in the Eel River and help save the salmon, a vital cultural resource for neighboring tribes, including the Wiyot. While the Eel River isn’t within Yurok territory, it’s an incredibly important waterway for the Wiyot Tribe, and I am honored to support their food sovereignty efforts while gaining insights that I can bring back to my own tribe’s work.

Since beginning my studies in fisheries biology, I have learned so much about our local river systems and the conservation strategies needed to protect them. I’ve also connected more deeply with my community and neighboring tribes, building a sense of belonging that grows stronger with each passing day. This master’s degree not only furthers my career goals but also aligns with my personal mission. I hope to continue on this path and become a fisheries biologist, specifically for my tribe, to contribute directly to the protection of our culturally significant fish populations.

As a fisheries biologist, I’ll have the opportunity to support my tribe and other local tribes by working to preserve fish populations that hold cultural significance. It is critical for tribes to have their own fisheries departments, as fish species central to our identity and heritage may not attract mainstream conservation efforts. This degree will allow me to serve as a steward for my people, advocating for our environment and the indigenous communities who depend on it. With my background in marine biology and new experiences in freshwater fisheries biology, I am well-prepared to work across both environments, an essential skill for a coastal tribe like ours. Now more than ever, we need advocates dedicated to protecting the land, waters, and species we hold dear.

Eliza Porter, BS, OSU

“My commitment to conserving and restoring wild, native fish is driven by the joy and curiosity for the outdoors that aquatic ecosystems and their organisms have inspired in me. This scholarship will support my educational and professional goals to advocate for free-flowing rivers and wild, native fish.”

Originating in the headwaters of mountain streams, flowing through industrialized cities, and draining into estuaries where freshwater meets the sea. Consciously carving its path through the landscape, a river’s journey is meant to be rhythmic and uninterrupted like the blood pumping through our veins. Rivers and streams are earth’s veins, carrying the water that provides life to aquatic organisms and sustenance to humanity. The society we live in has managed and exploited watersheds and wild fish as an inexhaustible resource, interrupting the free-flowing nature of rivers with impassable dams. Advertising reservoirs created by these structures as opportunities for recreation, sport fishing, and hydropower rather than a death sentence to wild native fish and a river’s natural ecology. I recall salmon fishing trips as a kid on the Columbia River with my Yakama family who would tell me about the impacts dams have on the river and its fish populations. The Columbia River is a place I’ve visited regularly throughout my life. I find beauty in its familiarity and anger on behalf of its manipulation. The industrialization of Columbia felt innate when I was younger. Sitting on the rocky shores of the river below John Day Dam watching barges go by is how I recall the Columbia in my childhood memories. As I got older and more curious I wondered more about what the Columbia and its salmon populations looked like before the dams. What would my first memories with this river have been without the dams or barges? I started to wonder if the river could ever go back to the way it was before hydropower and if it could how would wild fish populations respond. My ambition to advocate for free-flowing rivers and wild native fish has grown greater and greater through my life, influencing my personal, educational and career goals.

I am in my fourth year at Oregon State University (OSU), I’m studying Environmental Science with minors in Indigenous Studies (IS) and Fisheries, Wildlife and Conservation Sciences (FWCS). I have been able to study fisheries conservation from both a western science perspective and IS perspective. At OSU I have been heavily involved with the Native American community on campus and the FWCS department. I assist each year with the Indigenous Cultural Centers annual salmon bake and have helped host various events centered around the importance of salmon to Native communities. Along with having taken many courses in the FWCS department, I currently work in the departments Freshwater Ecology lab, and plan to attend a study abroad program with the FWCS department in winter term where I will travel to Chile and explore the impacts of salmon aquaculture in the Patagonia region of the country. My subsequent summer internships in 2023 and 2024 made me want to learn more about the impacts of hatcheries and aquaculture on freshwater ecosystems and native fish populations. In 2023 I was an intern at the Yakama Nation Fisheries Levi George Supplementation and Research Facility, a hatchery, in Cle Elum Washington. In 2024 I was an intern for the Native Fish Society (NFS) and USDA Forest Service (FS) in the Umpqua National Forest. Working for the NFS and FS allowed me to meet various people concerned about the conservation of salmon in the Umpqua Basin who all carried various perspectives on
the contentious issue of the use of hatchery programs. As I have worked for a tribal hatchery and the NFS, I have listened to numerous perspectives on hatchery programs while keeping an open mind and a concern for native wild fish. I hope to continue learning about the impacts of aquaculture from new perspectives when I study in Chile in order to better understand the issue and in turn be better informed on what needs to be done to conserve native wild fish populations.

My work in fisheries conservation seeks to center native wild fish populations and freshwater ecosystems. I hope to make an impact on the way society approaches conservation work and spread awareness on the importance of wild fish and natural ecosystems. I want to see a future where humans in the western world are stewards of the land rather than dictators. My ultimate goal is to help shape a future where rivers run free, wild native fish recover and future generations sustainably care for these ecosystems.

Tadashi Morishita, BS, OSU-Cascades

“I’d like to combine the lessons in respect for our natural world, passed down to me through generations of Shawnee heritage, with the dedication and technical skill sets gained through more than a decade of military service to move the needle forward on how we approach decision making regarding how we live within and interact with our fragile ecosystems. I believe the path to that future grows hand in hand with the development and integration of uncrewed and autonomous vehicle systems.”

I am, as many would say, a mutt, in the context of my heritage/genealogy/ethnicity. My father and his family are all of Japanese descent, having emigrated to Hawai’i four generations prior to mine. On my mother’s side, we’re a mix of Northwest European (Mainly English and Scottish) and Shawnee, the former component having emigrated here at some point prior to the American Civil War. Needless to say, my cultural values are incredibly complex and impossible to define by any one branch of my heritage. My parents, each in their own way, strived to instill all the best lessons that they learned and values that were passed down to them through the generations. Fortunately for me, those two distinct sets of values and lessons came together in a way that made a love for nature and our natural world foundational to my identity.

It’s more than love, in fact, it’s recognition that everything in the natural world, including myself, belongs here and is intertwined with one another. My mother would take us camping all along the California coast and into the Sierra Nevada, pointing out towering waterfalls in Yosemite Valley and fields of dry grass on the central coast, telling us, “You are every bit of that, just as that is every bit of you.” My father, an avid angler and once hunter, to this day, is a seemingly endless source of learning. I have vivid memories of lessons in respect for the lives that we take to sustain our own. I remember once catching a bluegill that was too small to eat, but I was unable to remove the hook because it was down in the fish’s stomach. Instead of forcing it out and injuring the fish further, he taught me, “This is a life, and it should be cherished. You may not keep the fish, but it may live on.” As a kid, those individual lessons didn’t mean much, but over the years they accumulated and helped shaped my identity and aspirations in life.

Coming out of high school, we were in the early years of the Global War on Terror. My passion for the natural world was overshadowed by the overwhelming desire to be part of something bigger than me (though, at the time, I had not yet figured out that the natural world is exactly that). I spent 14 years in the Navy and with the Department of Defense building a set of skills that I soon realized was nearly useless outside of the military. I wanted to be part of something bigger, but I was quickly realizing that serving my country really wasn’t that ‘big’ when compared to all the things about our planet, past, present, and future, that I used to feel a part of.

It was at that point that I formulated my new plan: combine relevant skills I developed in the Navy with a new foundation of knowledge in our natural world that I would gain as a student at Oregon State University to become an environmental ally and advocate for landscape restoration and sustainable development. I started acing all my classes, I felt emboldened by all this new information that just seemed to click and feel almost like common sense to me. Before the end of my first year, I began an internship, which later turned into employment, at a local nonprofit (Beaver Works Oregon, a program of Think Wild) whose primary goal is the restoration of riparian zones. Through multiple projects throughout Central Oregon, with the support of volunteers, local tribes, and state and federal agencies, we helped restore overgrazed, degraded, and channelized stream systems in the John Day, Deschutes, and Klamath watersheds. We were increasing the stream sinuosity, floodplain inundation, and habitat quality, all critical factors in the restoration and protection of anadromous fish as well as terrestrial wildlife. I finally felt like I was making progress towards something good and tangible.

I’m in my final year of my undergraduate studies, yet I feel like I’m only getting a glimpse of what there is to learn about the field. And though there is still so much to learn, I can already see the difference that just a little bit of knowledge and a bit of elbow grease can make when it comes to preserving native, wild fish resources for our sustenance, the many functions of our ecosystems, and our many cultural heritages. As a direct descendant of Chief Wayapiersenwah (Joseph Bluejacket) and active and conscientious inhabitant of our lands, I find it to be my obligation to protect our native fish and their habitats, and I would be immensely grateful for your support.

Roberto Ponce Velez, Oregon State University

Fisheries, Wildlife, and Conservation Sciences

Roberto's Scholarship Essay:

Small rural Oregon towns are deceiving. Black and white photographs illustrate the story that these towns have always had white residents, with images of flour mills, lumber mills, and the photographed families seemingly confirming these beliefs. Seeing these images proudly displayed throughout my town as a young child only confirmed my insecurities and brewed turmoil as I grew older. High school came and I began to further question my place; Do I really belong here? Until late into high school, my parents were undocumented – “illegal” being the label assigned to them. At a time when I felt most vulnerable, I began to gravitate more and more to my local creek, Silver Creek in Silverton, Oregon. To most, it’s a trickle of water that flows through another hole-in-the-wall town. To me, the creek became a place to shed my skin and shamelessly let my tears flow. Here, with fly-rod in hand, is where I discovered native wild fish and my place of belonging.

Over the past 5 years of my fly fishing journey, I have accumulated hundreds, if not thousands, of hours on this creek with each one being unique. Time spent on the water meant resolved mental challenges, tears, laughs, and fish… lots of them. I like to believe that when I lay my hands on these fish, we exchange looks of recognition and validation. Though I am not from the Molalla or Kalapuya people (Indigenous to this area), we share a resemblance and a similar battle. My skin is not brown because of the colonizers, it is brown because of the Purapecha people that I come from. They too, like the native fish, fight to remain in the current. Whether it be northern pikeminnow, coastal cutthroat, or steelhead, these wild native fish encapsulate the culture that surrounds them and the resilience in staying there – right where they belong. These fish have seen dams, agricultural runoff, a decimation of food quality and quantity, and a lack of respect for their belonging. Yet, after every harsh low-water summer, they emerge from the oil-spilled water into the roaring rapids following the first few rains of the fall. These fish manage to hold on, if not by a thread, but for how long?

Though this question sits uneasy with me, this love and fascination for wild native fish has revealed a path of river rocks that has led me to pursue a career as a fisheries biologist. A feeling of shame and vulnerability blossomed into pride and “river-legs” like belonging – solid. Why should I feel ashamed to be here? Now, as a third-year Fisheries, Wildlife, and Conservation Sciences student at Oregon State University, I plan on pursuing higher education with an interest in the conservation of at-risk native species. This past summer I had the opportunity to work with Great Basin Redband Trout, a native endemic species to the Goose Lake Basin thanks to the Vanguarding an Inclusive Ecological Workforce (VIEW) at Oregon State University. I even got to present my research at the 2023 SACNAS National Diversity In Stem Conference! These opportunities have enlivened the idea of graduate school and have me considering science communication, something I was once too afraid to imagine! Pivoting to the future, I am in the process of applying to a USFWS Pathways position that will allow me to work with native bull trout in Idaho.

All this is to say that if these Native fish disappeared from Silver Creek, most folks wouldn’t realize, or quite frankly care. Just this past summer the local swimming pool renovated its water intake pump completely disregarding the gravel beds and stream features for future spawning fish. The reservoir just a mile above town failed to release sufficient water creating stagnant pools allowing for warm water species like largemouth bass and bluegill to feed on young native fish. With that sobering reality in mind, I’ve promised myself that while I walk these lands and wade these streams, I can not accept that as a possibility. These native fish have taught me lessons no language could, filled holes therapists couldn’t seal, and revealed emotions I was too afraid to once feel. More importantly, they have taught me that I too, belong.

Anna Hosford, Oregon State University

Fisheries, Wildlife, and Conservation Sciences

Anna's Scholarship Essay:

My home waters are the lush rivers and forests of the Pacific Northwest. My ancestors, the Wasco people, are from the Columbia River Gorge and have a strong connection to this land and the native fish that call these watersheds home. I have been fortunate enough to grow up in the Pacific Northwest where I was raised with the understanding of our tribal traditions and culture and recognize the ties between us, the land, and the other beings that reside here. Unfortunately, these sacred lands and the native fish here are facing many threats including habitat degradation, overharvest, poor management, climate change, dams and restricted river passage.

To me wild native fish are way more than a “resource”; they are deeply entwined in my culture, and they are foundational to our creation story and history. When we were new to earth the salmon people gave their bodies for us so we could survive and have been doing so ever since, without them we would not be here. When my people were removed from our traditional lands along the Columbia River this disrupted the balance between people and fish that has been in place for millennia, with disastrous results for the land, my people, and the fish. The connection between wild fish and my tribe is irreplaceable, it is our duty to repay them for when they helped us in our time of need. Without the understanding of the strong connections and respect between the people and the native fish, we will never be successful in bringing them back.

My connection to this land and to the native fish was the reason I decided to pursue a degree in Fisheries and Wildlife sciences. I am so grateful for the way I was raised, and the role that wild and native fish played in my upbringing. I want this to be an opportunity for future generations of my people because without these fish our people will not be the same. Right now is a critical time for these fish populations and they need as much help as they can get, it’s now our time to step up and return the favor to help restore them to their homewaters. I want to bring traditional knowledge and understanding back into the management regime of these fish and restore the balance and respect that these wild fish deserve. These fish are valuable on so many levels, the Pacific Northwest wouldn’t be the same without them, not only do they play a critical role in the function of our ecosystems; they are also deeply connected to my culture, if the salmon were no longer here my culture would be lost as well as the ecosystem we all call home.

Maria Kuruvilla
Quantitative Ecology and Resource Management (QERM) Program, University of Washington

My ancestral land has lush rainforests, rivers fed by incessant rains, estuaries teeming with fish, a mountain range to the east that provides wild food to the native tribes and the ocean to the west that feeds the coastal communities. Although this sounds lot like the Pacific Northwest, I am describing Kerala, a small state in South India. While my family moved to Bangalore, a nearby city, for better job opportunities, all my summers were spent in my grandparents’ farm gathering fruits and having fish atleast for one of the meals of the day. Living of the land and subsistence fishing was not just important to our family but it defines the culture of Kerala. As with other biodiversity hotspots, the fish in Kerala are threatened by climate change, habitat loss and the introduction of other species during colonialism.

The Pacific Northwest is the only other place that I have visited where I have seen the land, rivers and animals having a cultural importance in the lives of the people that live here. Even as an immigrant woman of color, I felt at home in the Pacific Northwest when I first visited for a class on marine conservation in the San Juan Islands. This is why I decided to apply to University of Washington for graduate school through the Quantitative Ecology and Resource Management (QERM) program. I am currently studying the collective behaviour of fish to understand how they use social information to interact with their conspecifics, their environment and their predators under Dr. Andrew Berdahl in the School of Aquatic and Fishery Sciences department. My goal is to use basic science research towards conservation needs.

Although Pacific salmon are keystone species that are culturally and economically important in this region, the numbers of wild fish have been drastically declining. While hatcheries are producing fish for harvest, the potential negative influence of hatchery fish on the wild fish population is concerning. Salmon are not only influenced by their environment but also by the presence and behavior of other salmon, including salmon from the hatcheries. In my thesis, I want to analyse salmon count data to examine whether hatchery fish negatively influence wild fish to migrate during a specific time of year causing a shortening of the seasonal range of migration. I also want to examine whether they influence wild fish to migrate more during the day rather than during the night. The results of this collaborative project with scientists from academia and the state as well as the Puyallup Tribal Fisheries can help us in our next step to explore simple ways in which hatcheries can make changes to their release schedule to mitigate the negative influence that hatchery fish have on the wild populations. As a grateful guest on this beautiful land, I hope to help conserve wild fish populations that benefit the land and its people.

Michelle Pepping, MS UC Davis
Animal Biology Ph.D. Student

Michelle's Scholarship Essay:

My homewaters are both the Guadalupe River in Santa Clara County, California, and the Rio Yaqui in Sonora, a northwestern state in Mexico. My connection to life-giving waters and the fish they support comes from my mother, born in the pueblo Batuc in Sonora. She grew up in a village with no electricity, depending on the river for her and her community’s life and wellness. I have been to Batuc many times with my mother, but it is a shadow of the pueblo it once was. As a girl, her family moved to California hoping for an opportunity at a better life. A dam was built after she left and all of the people were forced to leave. With climate change and drought, all I ever saw was ruins of an old stone church and small wooden houses dry and crusted over with what used to be a lake bottom. She tells me about sitting on the banks with my grandmother washing clothes with the rocks and a washboard. With good water and healthy fish so far away, family in Mexico now have to make a trip to the ocean to have good fish for tacos. They all miss the river. In California, my mother took me to the creek by our home and taught me what and how to eat what the water provides. When I started competing in science fairs, I went straight to that creek and conducted water quality surveys to track down points of pollution.

When I made my way into conservation science and ecology during my undergraduate career at the University of California, Santa Barbara, it was no surprise that I fell into salmon research. Working to improve wild salmon populations fits into the values and experiences of my family. Salmon are also choked and displaced when dams are in place. Respecting salmon means respecting indigenous peoples and tribal/village life. To have healthy wild salmon, you need healthy wild rivers. Now, I am a PhD candidate at the University of California, Davis working under the mentorship of Dr. Mike Miller as I use genetics as a tool to better understand and manage steelhead and salmon. I am currently looking at the distribution of run-time in the North Umpqua Basin in Oregon to better understand the evolutionary advantage of summer-run steelhead. It is extremely rewarding to work in fish conservation. I am excited to look back at my career and point to the physical rivers with healthy fish where my efforts mattered, hopefully while eating tacos de pescado.