Nari Lee, a graduate student at the University of Montana’s Environmental Studies program, is drawing on her international background to advance biodiversity and gender equity in conservation. Raised in Daegu, South Korea, Lee’s early years offered few chances to experience nature. Despite a stable government job supporting the arts, she left her position to pursue work that combined her interests in conservation and social justice.
Lee relocated to Mongolia near the Gobi Desert, working with climate migrants affected by desertification. She collaborated with the Green Asia Network to plant trees that would shield communities from sandstorms and support alternative livelihoods. “I lived with Indigenous communities, and we didn’t have any languages in common, but it didn’t matter,” Lee said. “We had shared goals and experiences as human beings.”
Her time in Mongolia underscored for Lee how environmental issues cross borders; sandstorms originating there contributed to hazardous air conditions in South Korea. She also participated in research tracking migratory birds like whooper swans and white-naped cranes between Mongolia and the Korean peninsula.
“One really fascinating part of that research was that I lived with many foreign researchers from 15 different countries,” Lee said. “We shared our knowledge and conservation insights, our struggles and our toughest research conditions. I had a really good time connecting with all the folks from such different places around the world.”
A relationship with an American conservation psychologist led Lee to Montana, where she found UM’s interdisciplinary approach suited her diverse interests. “I feel like UM is the perfect fit where I can pursue all my passions,” she said.
At UM, Lee is pursuing a master’s degree in environmental studies alongside a minor in gender and sexuality studies and a certificate in international development studies. She will co-teach a course on global feminism this fall through UM’s Franke Global Leadership Initiative.
Lee’s research focuses on gender barriers within conservation fields in both Mongolia and South Korea—environments often dominated by men where female researchers face isolation or unspoken expectations regarding domestic duties during fieldwork.
“I had the chance to give some presentations about my work back home in Korea,” Lee recalled. “One day, I went to the lecture room and the first thing the organizer said to me was ‘Oh, I thought you were a man.’ And that kind of thing has happened a lot in my life.”
She found similar stories among other women working in conservation: “It was so sad to me to see those gendered norms even in highly academic settings,” Lee said. “There were very few women in leadership among conservationists in Mongolia. It’s a small community, which makes it hard to speak out.”
Despite limited existing research on these issues, Lee has already inspired colleagues to share their experiences publicly: “I’m so touched by those who have shared their experiences so publicly,” she said. “I’m observing the changes right now, seeing female conservationists speak out who haven’t been able to talk about their challenges before. It’s so meaningful for me to see that my research can really help people.”
Lee hopes her work will lead her back to Mongolia after graduation: “Montana reminds me so much of Mongolia,” she said. “Everything is so similar – the open grasslands, even the cowboy hats.” Her goal remains consistent across continents—to promote diversity both ecologically and within professional communities.
“Because that’s our goal, right? Biodiversity. To diversify the environment and make it more colorful,” she said. “So we can do that in our communities, in our cohorts and our classrooms.”
