Vera Knook 

A river needs space to flourish — to meander, to carve, to change. When it is given that space, it creates life around it. When confined, channelised, or dammed, its vibrant flow becomes monotone, or worse, stagnant. I have witnessed this firsthand as a kayaker: powerful rivers reduced to narrow corridors or silenced completely. And I see a parallel in people.

Many young people choose environmental or social studies because they want to make a difference. But along the way, they often feel channeled into career paths that reward security over impact. Their original energy becomes constrained, and their sense of purpose begins to stagnate.

My work is about creating space. Space for people to bring their passion back to life.
Space to collaborate rather than compete. Space to cross disciplines and think beyond conventional boundaries. Space to speak up for rivers, communities, and places they care about. And sometimes, creating impact is as simple as helping two aligned people find each other, like two rivers meeting and running stronger together.

Through expedition-based learning, citizen-science initiatives, and fellowships, I try to create entry points into impact-driven careers and community-led river protection. The outcomes are not always easily measured, but I see the flow: people gaining confidence, starting projects, forming networks, and carrying this momentum into their own work.

My hope for the future is that more people trust their instinct to protect what they love — and that they find the space to let that passion run free. When people move with purpose, like a river with room to roam, their impact becomes unstoppable.

While teaching kayaking one summer, I heard about Rok Rozman, a Slovenian kayaker launching the Balkan Rivers Tour to show the world the beauty and the threats facing the rivers between Slovenia and Greece. More than 3,000 hydropower dams were planned, and only a handful of people were working to protect these rivers. Rok believed kayakers could help by bringing international attention. Within weeks, I was driving south in a car filled with paddlers from Austria, Italy, and Germany.

That journey opened my eyes. I learned how complex hydropower development is and how distant it can be from genuinely sustainable energy goals. Back in Delft, I proposed researching these rivers for my master’s thesis, but my professors dismissed the idea as too political and lacking data. Their reaction made something clear: if research and attention were missing, wasn’t that exactly why it was needed?

Driven by that question, I joined Rok and started to engage students and academics in the region’s river issues. From these conversations, the idea for the Students for Rivers Camp was born—a space where people from different disciplines could learn, collaborate, and act for threatened rivers.

That first camp in 2019 became the beginning of the River Collective, and it set me on the path I still follow today: creating the space for others to get involved in protecting the places they love.