In my master’s research with Dr. Milla Rautio’s Aquatic Ecology Lab at UQAC, I’m focusing on Daphnia, a tiny crustacean that plays a surprisingly big role in Arctic lakes. These creatures are like sensitive meters of environmental stress. I’m especially interested in how their fitness relates to different stressors. That choice, it turns out, tells us a lot about what’s happening in their world.

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I work in Cambridge Bay, Nunavut, a dream location for someone who loves fieldwork and big landscapes. The lakes I study are shallow, fishless, and scattered across a gradient of permafrost disturbance and nutrient availability. Some are turbid and rich with dissolved organic matter from thawing soils; others are clearer, more nutrient-poor. Sampling them means long days, a bit of mud, and moments of total silence where it’s just you, the lake, and a net full of tiny plankton.

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Back in the lab, I analyze the Daphnia and their eggs, their size, their elemental makeup (C:N:P), and their fatty acid content. These biochemical traits help me understand how nutritious the food web is and how well the Daphnia are coping. I'm working with colleagues at UQAC and at the University of Jyväskylä in Finland to dig deeper into these patterns.

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What I love about this project is that it’s both local and global. Even in remote Arctic landscapes, ecosystems are tied into broader patterns of climate, biodiversity, and human culture. And because Daphnia are central to food webs, what affects them can ripple out to fish and the communities that rely on those ecosystems. It’s a small organism with a big story to tell.

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For me, science is partly about data and partly about curiosity. I like that my research asks ecological questions, but also leaves room for awe to wonder how something so small can be such a powerful narrator of environmental change.