Theresa (Teresa) Fyfe

When I say Great Barrier Reef, what do you see?

If you grew up in the 2000s, I'm guessing it might be Nemo and his best friend Dory.

Coral reefs are the most biodiverse ecosystem on our entire blue planet, home to more than a quarter of all marine life.

They are food, livelihoods and coastal protection for more than one billion people.

They anchor the economies of over 100 nations and hold deep cultural significance for saltwater First Nations peoples who see coral reefs as their family and the creators of life.

Sadly, our reef, my reef, has become the poster child for climate change.

And here's why.

Coral polyps, the tiny animals that build reefs, are incredibly sensitive to warming oceans.

When stressed by heat, they expel the algae that nourish them, exposing their skeletons and turning them white, a phenomenon called coral bleaching.

Now, a bleached coral isn't dead, but it is sick and starving.

And if temperatures stay too high for too long, it dies.

Coral reefs are the absolute lifeblood of a thriving ocean.

We thought them too big and too important to fail.

Already, we have lost half of the world's coral reefs.

In 2024, the global extent of coral bleaching reached 53 countries and every ocean on Earth.

By 2050, 90 percent of corals could be lost.

And with coral reefs thought to be one of the most vulnerable ecosystems to climate change, we could witness their extinction in our lifetime.

Because of this, many people have already given up.

They see the problem as just too big and the progress too slow.

But I haven't given up.