Finding Meaning in the Mangroves

What makes a place matter to us? Is it the landscape itself, the people we share it with, or the stories we carry from one generation to the next?

In this episode of Roots in the Sunshine, I sat down with UF/IFAS Urban Forestry Extension Coordinator Dr. Stephanie Cadaval for a conversation that was supposed to be about mangroves. It was, eventually. But like so many meaningful conversations about trees and natural resources, we found ourselves talking about much more than the ecosystem itself. We talked about family, memory, local ecological knowledge, community stewardship, and the ways that people develop lasting relationships with the landscapes around them.

And as it turns out, those relationships may be one of the most important components of conservation.

A Zigzag Path to Urban Forestry

Stephanie describes her career journey as “zigzaggy,” a path shaped by curiosity, exploration, and a deep-rooted fascination with the natural world. Growing up in Miami, she was surrounded by urban life, but her connection to nature came largely through her family, especially her mother.

Raised on a farm in rural El Salvador, Stephanie’s mother carried with her a wealth of local ecological knowledge. She shared stories about plants, their uses, and the lessons passed down through generations. As a child, Stephanie viewed this knowledge almost as a kind of magic.

Those early experiences sparked an appreciation not only for nature itself, but for the ways people interact with and learn from their environments. That curiosity eventually led her through environmental policy, education, Latin American Studies, and ultimately into research focused on mangroves and community natural resource management.

Today, that same interest in the human side of environmental stewardship continues to shape her work in urban forestry.

The Knowledge We Carry

One theme that surfaced repeatedly throughout our conversation was the importance of local ecological knowledge.

While scientific datasets, inventories, and monitoring programs are essential, they are not the only ways people learn about the natural world. Communities observe changes over decades. Families pass along stories about places, plants, and seasonal patterns. Residents notice when flooding increases, when fish become harder to catch, or when trees that have stood for generations disappear.

As Stephanie pointed out, people are collecting data every day, even if they don’t call it that.

These observations often become part of a community’s collective understanding of place. They influence decisions, shape values, and provide historical context that may never appear in a formal dataset.

In many ways, trees and natural areas become living archives of those stories.

Enter the Mangroves

For Floridians, mangroves often represent a boundary between the built environment and the natural world. They’re found along shorelines, estuaries, canals, and barrier islands, creating a landscape that feels distinctly different from the neighborhoods and roads just beyond them.

Stephanie described visiting mangrove forests in Miami as entering a completely different space. They felt wild, separate, and special.

I couldn’t agree more.

Some of my own strongest connections to Florida emerged through exploring mangrove forests. Their twisting roots, sheltered tunnels, and remarkable architecture create environments unlike anything else in North America.

Learn more about Florida’s three most common mangrove species in this video:

Lessons from Costa Rica

As part of her master’s research, Stephanie traveled to a small island community in Costa Rica’s Nicoya Gulf.

There, mangroves aren’t simply protected habitats or places for recreation. They are deeply woven into everyday life.

The communities Stephanie worked with rely on mangrove ecosystems both economically and culturally. Fishing and shellfish harvesting provide income and food security, while generations of families have built traditions around these activities.

Unlike Florida, where mangroves are often physically and socially separated from daily life, residents interact with these forests constantly. Children learn harvesting practices from parents and grandparents. Families spend time together in the mangroves. Community members observe changes in the ecosystem year after year.

Women Leading Restoration

One of the most fascinating findings from Stephanie’s research involved community-led mangrove restoration efforts.

Over time, residents began noticing changes. Harvesting became more difficult. Certain resources became less abundant. Forest continuity was interrupted by development and previous land uses. In response, local residents began organizing restoration projects. Women, in particular, emerged as key leaders in these efforts.

Community members explained that women often spent more time in and around the mangrove forests through shellfish harvesting and subsistence activities. Because they were regularly interacting with these spaces, they were often the first to notice ecological changes. Residents started collecting mangrove propagules, establishing nurseries, growing seedlings, and replanting degraded areas. Over time, nonprofit organizations became partners by providing equipment, training, and technical support. But importantly, the projects remained community-driven.

The restoration efforts were not imposed from outside organizations. They grew organically from the community’s own observations, concerns, and values.

Red mangrove prop roots. Photo credit: Alyssa Vinson, UF/IFAS Extension.

What Can Florida Learn?

As we wrapped up our conversation, I asked Stephanie what lessons her research might offer for Florida.

Her answer was succint:

Don’t discount the people who are there every day.

The residents who fish, kayak, walk, paddleboard, birdwatch, or simply live near natural resources bring valuable observations and experiences to conservation conversations. Understanding what people value, what they notice, and what connections they have to a place can help create more meaningful and effective stewardship efforts.

AI‑Assisted Content Notice:
This article was prepared with assistance from generative AI tools and based on podcast interview transcripts. All content has been reviewed and edited by UF/IFAS Extension faculty to ensure accuracy and alignment with UF/IFAS standards.

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Posted: July 29, 2026
Last Updated: July 27, 2026



Category: Coasts & Marine, Conservation, Forests, Home Landscapes, Natural Resources, Relationships & Family, Research, UF/IFAS Extension, Work & Life
Tags: Urban Forestry Extension


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