Vivian Valencia

Vivian Valencia Research Chair
in Sustainable Agriculture
and Climate Action.

The Food Systems Lab, led by Dr. Vivian Valencia, explores how we can build food futures that are sustainable resilient, just, and nourishing for both people and planet. We believe radically better futures are possible—and, in fact, many already exist. Around the world, farmers, communities, and innovators are shaping solutions to our most urgent crises: climate change, biodiversity loss, and inequity. Our lab shines a light on these “lighthouse” examples to learn from them, amplify them, and inspire new pathways forward.

Our work bridges the natural and social sciences and often extends into the arts. This transdisciplinary approach allows us to capture the complex dynamics of food systems—from the biodiversity of coffee agroforests in Chiapas, to the power of public food procurement to diversify farms in Brazil, to alternative arrangements to access farmland in Quebec. We also collaborate with chefs, artists, and dramaturges to use creative practices that spark imagination and inspire change.

Bold, systemic change
is what the moment
demands.

Image

What drives us is impact: generating actionable knowledge that helps realign food systems within planetary boundaries while expanding justice, equity, and agency. We work across scales—from local communities to international partnerships with the United Nations—always guided by the conviction that small, incremental tweaks are not enough. Bold, systemic change is what the moment demands.

Areas of
Expertise

  • Sustainable food systems
  • Biodiversity conservation
  • Agroforestry
  • Climate change
  • Resilience
  • Foresight methods

Recent activities

Ask a Researcher:
Fieldnotes and other curious truths

These are some questions about me and my profession

What is your favorite part of going to the field?

I have to admit that since becoming a mother of two—both currently under five—my field visits have become more sporadic and shorter. Before that, I used to spend extended periods, particularly in two communities in La Sepultura Biosphere Reserve, where I’ve worked for over a decade. During that time, I watched children grow up, shared home-cooked meals, attended weddings and, sadly, funerals too. In addition to spending time in the community, my favorite part of fieldwork has always been hiking in the forest. Setting out before dawn and entering the dense forest, my favorite sounds were the rustling of leaves in the wind, the distant sound of water flowing through mountain streams, and the occasional bird call and insect buzz. Far removed from cities and human-made structures, those were moments were I felt soul, body, and mind aligned with the forest, grateful and also quietly asking for permission to enter.

What is your favorite ice-cream flavor?

More than having a favorite ice-cream flavor, I have a favorite ice-cream parlor. I grew up in Mexico City, and before I was born, my pregnant mom would eat ice-cream at Chiandoni. So I I’ve been eating ice-cream there since before being born.

Then I was born. Then my children were born. and Chiandoni still exists. Their ice-cream still tastes exactly the same as it did over three decades ago. They still have the same tables, chairs, and metallic ice-cream cups. I love how time seems to have stopped there. It is a constant in my life.

And after more than thirty years, you might think that I’ve all flavors on their menu. Nope. I always sit at the same table, in a corner by the window near their small mural of Piazza San Marco, and order one of three things: a hot fudge Sunday, vanilla ice-cream soda, or plain vanilla ice-cream.

What was your scariest field experience?

A few years ago, I was leading an expedition deep in the highlands of Chiapas, investigating how coffee leaf rust is changing rustic coffee agroforests. We were hiking through dense forest when I nearly stepped on a nahuyaca—the most venomous viper snake in the region.

My research team and I instinctively stepped back to give it a chance to slip away. However, Don Pablo’s, the farmer co-leading the expedition, acted fast. He killed it. For him it was a decision about his safety and that of his children, who often hiked those trails. These decisions unraveled in less than 90 seconds and captured the deeper tension between the ideals of those who want to conserve the forest and its biodiversity, and the daily realities of those who live in them.