Building Relationships First: How UNE Student Research with the Passamaquoddy Tribe Rethinks Environmental Health
Undergraduate research usually begins with a question a student wants to answer. At the University of New England (UNE), one environmental science student deliberately reversed that order. Isabel Ryan, a member of UNE’s class of 2027, spent months in conversation with the Sipayik Environmental Department of the Passamaquoddy Tribe before deciding what her research would examine at all. The outcome is an environmental health needs assessment shaped by the Tribe’s own priorities—a project that stands out in recent research news from USA universities as an example of science done with communities rather than on them.
Ryan’s summer at the Pleasant Point Passamaquoddy Reservation in eastern Maine offers a working model for anyone considering a career in environmental health, public health, or community-based research. It shows how the One Health framework plays out in a real place, why data ownership matters, and what students gain when a university makes field research genuinely accessible to undergraduates.
If that kind of education appeals to you, take a moment to request more information about UNE’s environmental science and public health programs—undergraduate research opportunities like the one described here are built directly into the curriculum. Then read on for a closer look at how this partnership came together and what it teaches about responsible research.
Why Community-Led Research Matters in Environmental Health
Research involving Indigenous communities in the USA carries a complicated history. For more than a century, universities frequently studied Tribal nations without meaningful participation from the communities themselves—collecting data, publishing findings, and advancing careers while the people being studied received little in return. That legacy has understandably produced skepticism, and it is precisely the pattern Ryan set out to break.
“A lot of times in research, it’s like, ‘I’m just going to research this, and it’ll be all good. I can publish,’” Ryan explained in her interview with UNE. “But with working with the Tribe, it’s a little bit different. You have to really consider their needs and what their interests are.”
That difference sits at the heart of community-based participatory research, an approach in which the community helps define the research question, shapes the methods, and decides how results are used. Sarah Ebel, Ph.D., Ryan’s faculty mentor and an assistant professor in UNE’s School of Marine and Environmental Programs, has emphasized that scholarship should serve the communities with whom researchers work—not merely extract material from them.
For students, the lesson is concrete. Before designing a single survey or sampling plan, ask the people who live with local environmental conditions every day what would actually help them. In environmental health especially—where water quality, food systems, air quality, and land use directly shape well-being—community priorities are not a courtesy. They are the foundation of useful science.
Starting with Conversations, Not Hypotheses
Ryan’s project began in December, months before she collected any data. She and Ebel met with the Sipayik Environmental Department to ask what kind of research would be genuinely useful to the Tribe. Those conversations evolved into Ryan’s Summer Undergraduate Research Experience (SURE), a structured program that supports undergraduates in pursuing sustained, mentored research projects.
By the time Ryan arrived near Sipayik for the summer, the direction of the work had already been set collaboratively: an environmental needs assessment grounded in the One Health framework. Rather than arriving with a fixed agenda, she embedded herself in the environmental department’s day-to-day operations and conducted six semi-structured interviews with Passamaquoddy Tribal members to understand environmental priorities from the community’s perspective.
Putting the One Health Framework to Work at Pleasant Point
The One Health framework recognizes that human health, animal health, and environmental health are inseparable. Contaminated water affects fish; affected fish affect the people who rely on them; degraded habitat weakens the entire system that sustains a community. For a Tribal nation whose culture, diet, and economy are closely tied to the land and water of eastern Maine, this framework is not an academic abstraction—it describes daily reality.
Ryan’s needs assessment used this lens deliberately. By gathering community perspectives through structured interviews, she helped document how Tribal members experience the connections between environmental change and health, and where they see the most urgent needs. Because the findings belong to the Tribe, the assessment will return directly to the community as a resource identifying environmental priorities and potential areas for future action—not as another publication in an academic journal.
Want to see how undergraduates at UNE engage with frameworks like One Health in the field? Explore the university’s marine and environmental sciences programs and review current research news to find a direction that matches your interests.
Fieldwork Beyond the Assessment
The needs assessment was only part of Ryan’s summer. Working alongside the Sipayik Environmental Department, she assisted with eel surveys, environmental DNA (eDNA) collection, and alewife otolith studies—hands-on work with aquatic species that strengthened her technical skills while making the One Health framework tangible.
“Working with them on animal health, which is part of the One Health framework, really helped inform how animal health is interconnected to human health and environmental health,” Ryan said. “Sometimes it’s hard to see that unless you’re out there in the field and seeing that in real life.”
This is a point worth underlining for prospective students. Concepts like interconnection and systems thinking can feel abstract in a lecture hall. Standing in a river at night with a flashlight, counting eels alongside the people whose community depends on them, makes those same concepts concrete in a way no textbook can.
Research Ethics and Data Sovereignty with the Passamaquoddy Tribe
One of the most significant aspects of this project is what Ryan is not doing with it: she is not publishing the results or sharing the data publicly. The findings belong to the Passamaquoddy Tribe because that is what the Tribe wanted, and Ryan is clear that she fully respects that decision.
This practice—often discussed under the banner of Indigenous data sovereignty—recognizes that communities have the right to own, control, and govern data collected from them. For students and early-career researchers, it reframes what successful research looks like. Impact is not measured solely by publications and citations. A needs assessment that helps a Tribal environmental department set priorities or plan future projects can matter far more than a peer-reviewed article.
Ryan is also candid about the effort this approach requires. Establishing communication and trust with a community takes time, patience, and presence. She relocated to the area for the entire summer because, as she put it, it is difficult to know a community when you are not there. That commitment—being physically present, participating in everyday work, and letting relationships develop at their own pace—is what separates genuine partnership from a brief data-collection visit.
How Faculty Mentorship and Small-School Access Shaped the Project
None of this work happened in isolation. Ryan first encountered the possibility of community-based environmental research in Sarah Ebel’s Indigenous Ecology course, where students are encouraged to think beyond the classroom toward real research opportunities. Ryan approached Ebel about developing a project, and the two began planning in the fall.
For a student who had never conducted research before, that mentorship proved essential. Ebel walked her through the mechanics of qualitative research—designing semi-structured interviews, working through logistics, and planning the eventual community workshop. Having a faculty member available to test ideas with, week after week, gave the project structure and rigor.
Ryan also points to an advantage that surprises many students: at a smaller university like UNE, undergraduates get into the field early and often. “Our professors are really invested in their students,” she noted, adding that fieldwork opportunities are more accessible than they typically are at larger institutions. For students deciding where to study environmental health in the USA, that difference in access can shape an entire career trajectory.
If you want to find out whether this kind of close faculty mentorship fits your goals, schedule a campus visit or a conversation with the admissions team. Walking the labs, meeting faculty, and asking about current undergraduate research projects is the most reliable way to judge the fit.
From Summer Project to Shaw Innovation Fellowship
The work at Sipayik is continuing into the academic year. Ryan has been selected for UNE’s Shaw Innovation Fellowship, where her project—“Sipayik One Health Assessment: Community, Land, and Water”—brings together human health, planetary health, and impact storytelling. Through the fellowship, she will complete the environmental needs assessment and return to Sipayik for a community workshop shaped by what she learned through the interviews.
Looking ahead, Ryan—who graduates next May—is considering applying for a Fulbright scholarship and hopes to build a career around environmental justice and community health. Whatever form that work takes, her summer near Pleasant Point has clarified her approach: find the place and the community that draw you in, stay with them, and work to create change on their terms.
Five Lessons for Students Pursuing Community-Based Environmental Health Research
Ryan’s experience translates into practical guidance for any student considering this path:
- Ask before you design. Contact community organizations or Tribal departments early and let their priorities shape your research question. A technically elegant project that answers the wrong question helps no one.
- Be present. Plan to spend sustained time in the community, not just a few sampling days. Trust develops through shared work and everyday participation.
- Find a mentor with experience and patience. Faculty who understand community-based methods can save you years of missteps and will push you to think through ethics from the start.
- Respect data ownership. Clarify at the outset who controls the data, how findings will be used, and what the community receives. Publishing is a privilege, not a default.
- Think in years, not semesters. The most meaningful community research continues after the initial project ends—through follow-up workshops, fellowships, and long-term partnerships.
Where This Work Goes from Here
Projects like Ryan’s signal a broader shift in how universities across the USA approach environmental health research—with communities as partners rather than subjects, and with impact measured by tangible local benefit. For the Passamaquoddy Tribe at Sipayik, the immediate outcome is a needs assessment built on their own voices. For UNE, it is a demonstration of what undergraduate research can accomplish when mentorship, field access, and community partnership align. And for students watching from the sidelines, it is an invitation to approach research differently from the very first day.
Ready to take the next step? Submit your application to UNE, request program information, or explore related research news to see where your own interests in environmental health might lead. Have questions about studying environmental science or public health in Maine? Write to us—our team is glad to help. And if you have experience with community-based research, share your perspective in the comments below.
