Kriss has a profound sensitivity to a patient’s experience of death, grief and loss which has enabled them to proceed on their path with grace and peace. ~ Bobbie Tozier, RN, Hospice Nurse

Dr. Kriss Kevorkian (Pronouns she/her/hers)

My grandfather was one of the greatest influences in my life. He survived the Armenian Genocide, carrying with him both unimaginable pain and extraordinary strength. From him, I inherited a deep love for Nature and the Sea—a connection that’s shaped everything I’ve done since.

I grew up in Los Angeles and attended Westlake School for Girls, now Harvard-Westlake. In seventh grade, our class took a field trip to go whale watching. I’ll never forget that moment—seeing whales in the wild for the very first time. Watching those magnificent beings glide through the ocean, I knew right then that my life’s path would be tied to them. By sixteen, I was volunteering with the American Cetacean Society, learning everything I could about whales and their world.

I was studying zoology and marine biology at Humboldt State University (now Cal Poly Humboldt) when my grandfather died, and my life fell apart. I lost funding for school and had to return to Los Angeles. It was a painful detour, but life has a way of guiding us exactly where we’re meant to be. I trained as a radiologic technologist at Children’s Hospital Los Angeles, and while working there, several doctors and nurses told me I had a natural gift for working with children. They were the first to suggest I explore social work.

I followed that advice, returning to Humboldt to earn my Bachelor of Social Work (BSW). My professor, John Gai, assigned me to hospice for my senior internship. I didn’t know much about hospice at the time—but something about it felt instinctively right. I took to it like a fish to water, as if all my experiences had quietly led me there.

That experience became the foundation for everything that followed. I earned my Master of Social Work (MSW) and, after years as a hospice medical social worker, I pursued a doctorate in thanatology—the study of death, dying, and grief. For my dissertation, I returned to my first love: whales. I examined the decline of the Southern Resident Orcas through the lens of environmental grief—a term I coined, along with ecological grief, to describe how humans and non-humans alike mourn losses within Nature.

Today, my work bridges social work, grief studies, and emotional support with the pursuit of both environmental and social justice. As Executive Director of Legal Rights for the Salish Sea, I lead initiatives that honor the rights of the Southern Resident Orcas and advance the rights of Nature movement across the Pacific Northwest.

I believe that grief—whether for a loved one, a species, or an ecosystem—can be a powerful force for transformation. It reminds us of our connection to all living beings. And when we honor that connection, we begin to heal the world.

If my work speaks to you, I warmly invite you to reach out—whether to collaborate, learn more about the rights of Nature, or simply share your own story of love and connection with Gaia and all her inhabitants.