From climate anxiety to taking action, UM students fight for Florida’s reefs

“It used to be a vibrant reef that I was so excited to go back to,” said Caiazzo, a Massachusetts native who interns with Rescue a Reef, a program at UM’s Rosenstiel School of Marine, Atmospheric, and Earth Science that allows participants to help save Florida’s coral reefs.

A recent expedition with Rescue a Reef, a University of Miami program that allows students to save coral reefs. (Photo by Amy Tune)

Coral reefs in Florida, the only barrier reef system in the continental United States, are disappearing at an alarming pace. Against that backdrop of loss, students and scientists are racing to act, from coral rescue to large-scale outplanting and conservation projects.

Since that record-breaking summer in 2023, researchers have closely monitored how Florida’s reefs are recovering.

“Back in 2023, Miami experienced an unprecedented bleaching event. Events like that really hurt because it’s the ocean I love. It’s my office,” said Devon Ledbetter, a senior research associate in Dr. Diego Lirman’s Benthic Ecology and Coral Reef Restoration Lab and member of the Rescue a Reef team.

This year, however, the picture looks slightly different.

“Luckily, 2025 has not been as bad as 2023,” Ledbetter said in a recent zoom interview.

“We are still seeing coral bleaching,” she said. “I was out on the water last week and there were bleached corals all over the reef with that pale white color. But we haven’t seen the same level of widespread mortality as in 2023.”

She explained that the difference comes down to ocean temperatures and climate patterns.

“This year just hasn’t been as hot. The global climate naturally shifts through El Niño and La Niña cycles, which change how warm or cool our waters get,” she said. “If 2025 had reached the same temperatures as 2023, we likely would’ve seen the same level of loss.”

On July 3, scientists from the University of Miami and partner institutions took a historic step, planting the first internationally crossbred corals onto Florida’s reefs, the Associated Press reported. The milestone offers hope that reefs might one day survive in hotter, more hostile oceans.

That spirit of innovation extends beyond labs. Rescue a Reef, UM’s flagship citizen-science program, sends students and volunteers underwater to clean nurseries, collect fragments, and replant corals at restoration sites.

For Danielle Bejar, a Ph.D. student in ocean engineering, the urgency is personal. She grew up swimming in the waters of Fort Lauderdale.

“You definitely don’t see as much life. You see more pollution,” said Bejar, seated in her office beneath a large photograph of coral.

“I’ve seen it change and I felt like I needed to do something about it,” she added. She is currently designing floating hexagonal shades that protect corals from heat stress, a side project that has already won three awards. “I did this project because I love the ocean. It has my heart.”

Yet the work can be emotionally heavy. Bejar recalled hearing that many outplanted corals had died after the 2023 heatwave. “I could cry thinking about the way the environment has suffered because humans haven’t been developing sustainably,” she said.

Other students feel the same burden. “It’s really amazing being a marine biologist, but it can be a really hard job because we have to see the things other people don’t. We go face-to-face with the issues that most people will never see in person.” said Melissa Borges, a senior in marine science and biology at the University of Miami who started scuba diving at 11.

Ambar Condori-Boughton, a 20-year-old University of Miami junior from Washington, D.C., splits her time between two coral research labs. “Whenever I go scuba diving, I see it firsthand. A lot of reefs are just dead. It’s a constant reminder of what’s at stake,” she said. “We’re growing up in a time when climate change is obvious. We’re the ones who actually see it.”

That firsthand exposure has fueled what many call climate anxiety, a rising sense of distress, fear, and worry about the future of the planet. Borges said it affects even her daily routines.

“It’s really hard going to a grocery store and seeing everything packaged in plastic, knowing that it’s going to end up on a beach or wrapped around a fish somewhere,” Bourges added. “It’s hard to live in the modern world knowing all the damage that we’re doing to our planet.”

For Caiazzo, the anxiety comes with uncertainty about her own future. “I think it’s definitely unsettling,” she said. “Am I going to be able to have a job in a couple of years as a coral restorationist, or is all the funding going to be gone?”

Despite these fears, the students say working underwater shifts their perspective from hopelessness to action. “I do feel a lot of climate anxiety,” Borges said, “but at the same time, knowing that my work is contributing to something kind of offsets it. It is really sad, but at least I know that what I’m doing is going towards fixing it and making it better.”

Caiazzo agrees: “There’s a huge difference between seeing corals on a whiteboard or a screen versus actually being in a lab where you feel like you’re contributing. It just feels more impactful.”

Ledbetter said Rescue a Reef is built on that very idea. “Fear and guilt framing might get people’s attention, but it doesn’t leave them with hope. Hope is critical in encouraging people to act,” she said. “At Rescue a Reef, we always try to make sure that people are left feeling hopeful because that glimmer of hope is really what will inspire them to make a difference in ocean conservation.”

That approach seems to be working. This summer, Rescue a Reef set a record, hosting seven expeditions in seven weeks. Ledbetter credits students for sustaining reef restoration. “We’re only two people on staff. The rest are student interns and volunteers. We couldn’t do this without them.”

For students, the motivation goes well beyond career goals. Bejar says she often thinks about her children. “I want them to be able to see reefs,” she said, tears running down her cheeks. “It’s sad to think they might not. It motivates me to act.”

Borges frames it as a generational burden. “I feel like our generation has a responsibility being forced onto us because previous generations haven’t done enough,” she said.

For Caiazzo, it comes down to something simpler. “Who are we to say coral reefs don’t deserve to thrive and exist? I just want to help preserve them and build them back up so future generations can experience what I did.”

As Florida’s reefs enter their most precarious years, UM students are not only learning science. They are confronting fears, channeling grief, and holding onto hope that their generation can still make a difference.