I’m Julia Morales-Aguirre!

Hola!

I am Julia Morales-Aguirre, a Latina Canadian currently living in Norway above the Arctic circle.

I am a geophysicist and seismologist, having recently finished my MSc at McGill University. My research focused on glacial earthquakes occurring at one of the fastest glaciers in Greenland, Jakobshavn Isbrae or Sermeq Kujalleq in Greenlandic. What struck me in geophysics, as opposed to my bachelor’s in pure physics, was just how much we do not understand about our planet especially when it comes to climate change and all its effects. Growing up in Montreal where harsh winters have turned mild, my interest was drawn to the cryosphere. There is a myriad of scientific challenges to understanding how glaciers are changing and so much space for creativity which I find engrossing and motivating.

As much as I love my science, throughout my studies I grew frustrated with two things: 1) society’s unwillingness to listen to experts and make sacrifices for the common good, and 2) colonialist scientific practices.  The former was exacerbated by the COVID pandemic which coincided with my master’s degree. The analogies with the ongoing climate crisis were endless and it made me question what is truly done with all the knowledge the scientific community produces. The second concern came about because I could not do fieldwork in Greenland (due to the pandemic); this allowed me to ponder how these small Greenlandic communities feel about foreign scientists. Scientists often come and go without necessarily asking for anything besides help with logistics, yet the locals are bearing the brunt of the consequences which are studied.  It made me think about how Latin America has often played second fiddle in its own narrative. The Arctic is changing quickly, and it is important remember that it is not all glaciers and snow. People live there and should be involved in the activities carried out on their land. Thus, as I neared the end of my degree, I thought about how I could help reconcile science with the public, and how to empower the voices of the Arctic.

I now work as a projects coordinator at a non-profit called Arctic Frontiers in Norway. I help organize our annual international conference bringing together representatives from politics, science, business, NGOs, and creative industries to tackle pressing Arctic issues. Through this position, I finally get a glimpse into the various efforts at many levels to tackle the big questions like climate change, and into how we can make a difference. I also help run our Arctic leadership program aimed at northern youth. We encourage participation from marginalized people like indigenous and remote communities to help develop leaders for change.  

I was born and raised in Montreal, Canada: a metropolis with many identity crises ranging from the weather (which sees four seasons in a single day), to the never-ending French vs English debate, to its multicultural face that allows you to explore many corners of the world on one island.

I did not grow up spending much time in the snow or on ice as my Salvadorean mother and Mexican father are not very fond of the cold. Compared to my ‘true’ Canadian friends, my occasional sledding and playing in the schoolyard was a marginal relationship with winter. 

My family was wary of the winter and the wilderness: we did not go skiing, we did not go skating and we did not camp (except if you count in the basement). We did watch hockey (go Habs, go!) but solely because we needed to fill the sports void left by soccer. I picked up these winter hobbies on my own, through friends and school, and I wish someone had told me that it was ok to not know how to do all these things even as an adult. Those were my first steps in becoming a polar explorer and it is fine that they were baby steps.

The next step in my journey was my university education which took longer than my high-achieving adolescent mind was expecting. During my bachelor’s and master’s, I struggled through depression, anxiety, and a lifelong disease diagnosis. People do not like setbacks or failure, however I learned (and am still learning) that this is part of life, and we need to cut ourselves some slack because these things happen. We must be like polar fauna and flora: resilient. We often believe that scientists have a very linear progression and timeline: undergrad, masters, PhD, postdoc, professorship, and all within 12-15 years. While that may be the case for many people, remember it is not the case for most.

Nowadays, I live a polar experience every day and there are so many! From watching auroras dancing in the sky, to saying goodbye to the sun for weeks at a time, to carefully observing reindeer to finally determine whether they fly. I recommend living in the North to anyone. 

My first personal connection with polar exploration was a mix of meeting four key people. The first polar explorer I met was Dr. Holly Han in university, though at the time she was just Holly: a fantastic ice sheet modeler. More impressive than her wild expedition stories is her remarkable kindness and willingness to help.

Another friend, Linda Pan (now a PhD student at Harvard University), was also instrumental in my connection for polar exploration as she continuously told me about her undergraduate research on Antarctic ice mass change. She helped me gather the courage to seek out Prof. Yajing Liu and Prof. Natalya Gomez as my research supervisors.

The third person was Prof. Christie Rowe who taught me a geology field course and allowed me to fall in love with nature. Finally, the last person who cemented my connection to polar exploration was Maggie Whelan (who is also finishing her MSc at McGill) with her field stories and her blunt advocacy for a better scientific community especially in the field and for women. Together, they made me believe there was space for strong and helpful people, and notably women and minorities, in science."

My friends and family do not completely understand my fascination with sleeping outdoors in the cold however they support me if it makes me happy. I still surprise them with my choices and interests, but they have made a concerted effort in trying to get into it too; I think they have learned a lot along with me.  

What is next for me, who knows to be honest. I may still pursue my PhD in cryosphere science, but I believe that polar science cannot continue to exist within its academic bubble, especially as this bubble has been dominated by privileged groups. I hope to continue to promote a more transparent and diverse polar academic world. I would like to continue to help bridge the gap between the established systems, science, and underrepresented communities.         

Many people inspire me. However, I would say I draw most of it from my friends and family. While most of them do not work on polar issues nor science for that matter, their passion for life, their candour, and their strength in many unrelated situations inspire me to explore and to contribute in my small way to our world.

My advice to aspiring polar explorers is that it is never too late to become a polar explorer. We all start at different stages, and all take different paths, but they are all valid experiences.

Your personal background will be your strength, not your weakness. It is hard work, but it is also alright to take your time in this process. There is no competition. Be your own best friend in holding yourself up, and be a friend to others who may also be struggling.

If you want to go down the route of graduate studies, make sure you have open and honest communication with your supervisor and that they are good people, make sure you love your research topic, and prepare yourself to have blunt financial conversations. Graduate and postgraduate students are not paid well in North America and most of Europe, be aware of what this means and your rights at the university.

I would also add that if you are from a minority group, you do not have to carry the entire weight of trying to change the system alone. Inclusion, equity, and diversity efforts cannot rely solely on us and in fact, it is unfair to add that to your plate which is already overfull. Do what you can, but often this means telling more privileged groups to do their part.

You can follow Julia’s work on Instagram @juliamospov, on Twitter @JuliaMorales_A, and LinkedIn Julia Morales-Aguirre