on this tradition.

In August, Mackenzie English, who returned home to a place she's never actually lived, Gwichyaa Zhee, means people of the flats.

So welcome to the flats, Gwichyaa Zhee also known as Fort Yukon, is a village of less than 500 people on the Upper Yukon River.

Kenzie is 20 years old, a student at the University of Alaska Fairbanks.

Her mother is from Gwichyaa Zhee, and it's clear how connected she is to this place.

We're pretty much all family here.

Kenzie grew up with her dad and brother near Chandalar Lake in the Brooks Range and then lived in Fairbanks.

But she visited the village regularly as a child, and it's where she feels most rooted.

And now she'll live here full time.

For Kenzie, who like most of the village, is Gwich'in, this move has been a long time coming.

Like, I feel like I've been waiting my whole life to come back here and be, like, being my community as much as I wanted to.

But Gwichyaa Zhee today is very different from the village she remembers visiting as a kid.

Life here used to revolve around salmon.

The first kings would arrive in late June and chum would follow in late summer.

But four years ago, after decades of decline, both runs collapsed and river managers have all but closed fishing ever since.

Researchers say climate change is driving the collapse.

Residents say it's made life here unrecognizable.

Now on the riverbank, half a dozen fish wheels lay idle.

Kenzie calls it the fish wheel graveyard.

You would probably sit right here with one of those chairs and you would just watch the the nets catch the fish.

And I bet my grandpa was just smiling, smiling, watching it, knowing that he was going to be supplied for the winter.

These fish are more than just food.

They're culture and community.

But Kenzie wasn't around enough as a kid to fish salmon for herself.

She never learned to use those fish wheels.

And now that she's finally here full time, she's worried she never will.

And it's hard because I feel like it's I'm almost missing a part of myself.

Her uncle, Michael Peter, says that experience going to fish camp and building a connection to your family through salmon is an essential part of passing on their culture and only take your kids out and teach them and show them again how much you know.

Pretty much what we're taught.

We're taught how to cut and preserve and smoke fish.

Michael is second chief of Gwichyaa Zhee, and he worries that knowledge is getting lost for the next generation.

Do you worry about that for Kenzie?

Oh, yeah, sure.

Oh, sure.

I mean, you know, she's got a learning curve for sure.

And then, you know, I mean, she hasn't really been to fish camp.

You know, this loss has fueled Kenzie sense of purpose.

She feels a responsibility to help save her community from giant existential threats like climate change.

She's become an advocate for climate justice and indigenous rights.

She's fighting for more Alaska native control over fishery management.

And it's a lot of pressure.

It's overwhelming.

But I'm I'm happy to do it because, like I said, if no one it if our generation doesn't do it, then there's no one to be able to get that fish back for our future.

It's something that we have to do now.

I think great Grandma used to wear these.

One morning, Kenzie met her grandfather, Sonny Jonas, at his house for coffee.

There's a lot of changes around here, I'll tell you.

For years, Sonny taught kids in which age how to fish and how to make fish wheels.

If Kenzie had grown up here, he's the one who would have taught her.

Jonas has watched climate change transform the Yukon Flats just in his lifetime.

Thawing permafrost has caved in houses.

Summers are unrecognizable, warm.

He says the changes are alarming, but he sees hope in Kenzie.

Yeah, I'm glad to.

What she's doing right now, She's really trying to get into our culture and I'm really proud of her for that.

As for Kenzie, she's still learning that culture and she's determined to keep it alive for herself and future generations.

In Gwichyaa Zhee I'm Kavitha.

George.