Can you tell me a little about yourself? When did you first find your passion for this work, and where has that path taken you?
Absolutely. I grew up surrounded by water on Long Island so the coast has always been part of my life. As a kid, I’d stand at the wave break and just watch everything shift around me. It felt like the most dynamic place in the world. I think that’s when I knew I wanted to work where land and water meet.

At first, I thought that meant becoming a scientist. Through undergrad, I imagined myself doing research. But I quickly realized that the reality of research—especially outside the summer—wasn’t the right fit for me. I wasn’t ready to commit to a PhD or to focus on just one question for 3-5 years.
Then, by total chance, I was visiting a friend at Columbia and saw a flyer for an information session at the Nicholas School of the Environment. It was the next day, so I stayed and went. Karen Kirchof was there, and I just fell in love with the program. They were talking about science, but also about people—the communities living in these coastal places I found so fascinating. I hadn’t seen that combination anywhere else.
I ended up in the Coastal Environmental Management program, and someone mentioned I could take Natural Hazards classes at UNC. That really resonated with me, especially after experiencing Hurricane Sandy as an undergrad. Coming home afterward and seeing the damage—even inland—was shocking. So I completed the Natural Hazards certificate too.
And your Master’s Project became a big turning point for you, right?
It did. I started with a project critiquing a vulnerability assessment for a government agency. But when I submitted my first draft, the client basically said, “We can’t release this.” So I had to pivot.
I went to the Natural Hazards Conference in Colorado and met a researcher named Sherri Brokopp-Binder who had more data than she knew what to do with—on buyout participants in Staten Island. That immediately caught my attention. We sat down and came up with a new set of questions: What happens to people after buyouts? Where do they go? Are the places they move to more or less vulnerable? How does their social vulnerability change?
Through that work, I interviewed people who were working for the City at the time and made a lot of valuable connections. Honestly, my MP could have become a PhD. I got so much out of it because I put so much into it.
And yes—I did a lot of LinkedIn stalking. And a lot of following up. That mattered.
Our findings were surprising: we found that people were buying homes that were less flood prone, but in communities with higher social vulnerability. That result has shaped my involvement in buyout and managed retreat conversations ever since.
Career centers often talk about “buckets”—public sector, consulting, NGOs. But your path didn’t really follow that structure. How did it unfold?
Not linearly, that’s for sure. I originally pursued the Knauss Fellowship and was accepted into the program. But I wasn’t excited about the placements available. So, I withdrew before the DC interviews—which is generally frowned upon—but it was the right decision for me.
At the same time, I’d been networking heavily within the NSOE network. I talked to Karen about my interests, and she connected me with people who could help me explore them. One of those connections was a woman at the consulting firm Michael Baker International. She suggested I talk to someone there, and that led to my first job doing WHAFIS wave modeling for FEMA flood maps.
From there, I got pulled into the community engagement side of things, working on risk communication and coastal mapping. But Baker was going through instability with the FEMA recompete, and I wanted more growth. We were producing so many materials for communities, but we rarely heard whether they were being used. I wanted to be closer to implementation. At the time, a teammate of mine had been offered a job working at Arcadis but declined due to her moving abroad. But, when she declined, she recommended me for the position instead – and that’s how I ended up at Arcadis. My line manager actually ended up being one of the people I interviewed for my MP.
Truly, every stage of my career has benefited from staying connected and actively maintaining those connections.
Now, I manage a portfolio of small to midsized resilience projects. Nantucket Island off the coast of Cape Cod is one of my main clients—we’re supporting a sediment transport study and a first of its kind retreat and relocation program. I played a key role in developing their Coastal Resilience Plan, released in 2021. More than half of the 40 recommendations made in that plan are already completed or underway.
I’m also working with Boston on the Charlestown Navy Yard neighborhood-wide flood mitigation plan, and with Wilmington, Delaware, helping them build internal capacity for resilience.
When did you first realize that your work could influence the world around you?
Honestly, during my Master’s Project. When I first analyzed where people moved after buyouts, I realized no one was paying attention to this. It felt like waving a big red flag. That moment made the work personal. It’s what ignited my passion for resilience and managed retreat.
Tell me about a time you seriously questioned your path. What did you do next?
I’ve always wondered whether I’m more of an academic at heart. I get a lot of value from research, and academia can push the field forward in ways that are incredibly important. That’s part of why I love working at Arcadis—I get to work on projects that are the first of their kind. We’re doing research in real time. And I still rely heavily on academic literature to inform my work.
What’s something you had to work hard to become good at?
GIS. I was terrible at first. Pat Halpin even asked me to be a TA so I’d have to ‘take’ the class twice! But those skills helped me get my foot in the door at Michael Baker, which has led me to where I am today.
And finally, what do you see as the most critical issue facing coastal resilience today?
The project-based way we engage consultants. These challenges are long-term, but the funding is short-term. We work with a community on a project for 18 months and then the subject matter expertise disappears. In the best-case scenario, a municipality like Nantucket can keep moving forward—but often it’s a funding issue.
We need a continuity of care model for resilience work. That’s the only way to meet the scale of the challenge.
