Last week, as I waited anxiously to the hear the names being announced at the 2026 Premios AVA in Barranquilla, I found myself thinking about a little monkey with a wild shock of white hair.

Fundación Proyecto Tití had been selected as a finalist for an award from the Cámara de Comercio de Barranquilla recognizing organizations that are creating value and advancing sustainability in the region. There were 256 organizations evaluated, and only 14 would ultimately be recognized across the different award categories. When Proyecto Tití was announced as the first-place recipient in the CRE – Instituciones Responsables category, I was incredibly proud of everything our team has accomplished! But as wonderful as it was to see Proyecto Tití recognized, I kept coming back to a much bigger idea.

For almost 40 years, one of our greatest challenges has been getting people to recognize the cotton-top tamarin. That might sound strange. After all, once you've seen a cotton-top, it is pretty hard to forget one. They weigh less than a pound, have an extraordinary shock of white hair, and race through the forest communicating constantly with whistles, chirps and trills. They are curious, social, intelligent little monkeys with enormous personalities. And they are found naturally in only one country in the world: Colombia. Yet when I first came to Colombia nearly four decades ago, many people knew very little about them. At that time, I had already spent years studying cotton-top tamarins under human care. I knew these animals well—or at least I thought I did. But if we were going to figure out how to save them, we needed to understand how they lived in the wild. That led me to Colombia and to the question that would ultimately shape much of my life: What can I do to help save the cotton-top tamarin? It seemed like a relatively straightforward question. I quickly learned that the answer was anything but simple.

Working alongside an amazing group of dedicated Colombian field assistants and biologists who knew these forests far better than I did, we began learning what cotton-tops needed to survive. We followed them through the forest, watched what they ate, learned how they raised their families and began understanding how much space they needed. We saw what happened when forests were cut into smaller and smaller fragments and began to understand just how vulnerable these animals were when their habitat disappeared around them. The science was giving us important answers. Cotton-tops needed healthy forests. They needed those forests to be connected. And they needed to remain in those forests—not captured and taken into people's homes as pets. But there was another problem that wasn't going to be solved by collecting more data. People couldn't protect an animal they didn't know existed. That realization changed the way I thought about conservation. We could publish scientific papers about cotton-top behavior, reproduction and habitat requirements. We could document the destruction of Colombia's tropical dry forest. We could explain why taking a cotton-top from the forest was harmful. But none of those things would be enough if the people who shared the landscape with cotton-tops didn't recognize this animal as something special—something worth protecting.

So Proyecto Tití began to grow. What started as a research project became something much larger. We began working with schools and teachers. We talked with families about why cotton-tops should never be pets. We worked with farmers and landowners to protect forest. We helped communities develop alternatives that could improve livelihoods while reducing pressure on natural resources. We began restoring tropical dry forest and eventually created nurseries to grow the native trees we needed to put that forest back. And slowly, something wonderful began to happen. People began to recognize the tití. Children could see a picture and shout, “¡Tití cabeciblanco!” Farmers knew that the little monkeys moving through the trees on their property were found nowhere else on Earth. Teachers began talking about cotton-tops in their classrooms. Artisans incorporated the species into products and stories. Communities celebrated the Month of the Cotton-top Tamarin. Families began repeating one of the most important messages we could possibly share: los titíes no son mascotas—cotton-tops are not pets. Recognition was turning into something more powerful: pride.

That is why receiving the Premio AVA meant so much to me and our entire Proyecto Tití team. Yes, it recognized Proyecto Tití. But it also put the cotton-top tamarin and conservation on a stage in Barranquilla alongside businesses and organizations that are helping shape the future of the region. It sent a message that protecting biodiversity is not something happening on the sidelines. Conservation creates value—for forests, for wildlife, for communities and for Colombia. The numbers we shared with the judges tell part of that story. During the last decade, Proyecto Tití has helped plant more than 180,000 trees and restore more than 420 hectares of tropical dry forest. Our seed bank now contains nearly 400,000 seeds from more than 50 native species. Thousands of hectares of forest are under protection, and since 2010 more than 29,000 children have participated in our environmental education programs. Those are numbers I am immensely proud of.

But numbers aren't really what I think about when I consider how far we have come. I think about people. I think about the field assistant heading into the forest early in the morning to find a group of cotton-tops. I think about the women in rural communities caring for thousands of tiny seedlings that will one day become a forest. I think about a farmer deciding to protect trees on his property because those trees form part of a corridor that wildlife needs to survive. I think about the teacher who brings the story of the cotton-top into her classroom, and the child who goes home afterward and tells her family that wild animals belong in the wild. I think about the artisans who have transformed discarded plastic bags into beautiful eco-mochilas while helping us share a conservation message. I think about the families who have trusted us enough to try new livelihood programs, the students who have planted trees, and the landowners who have signed conservation agreements. None of these people are doing exactly the same thing, but together they are creating something that we could never have created through science alone: a culture of conservation around the cotton-top tamarin. And that may ultimately be one of our greatest hopes for saving this species.

Colombia is one of the most biodiverse countries on Earth, and the cotton-top tamarin is part of that extraordinary natural heritage. There are no wild cotton-top tamarins in Brazil. There are none in Costa Rica, Kenya or Indonesia. If we want this species to continue racing through the forests generations from now, there is only one country where that can happen. Colombia. That is why I want Colombians not simply to know what a cotton-top tamarin is, but to feel proud when they see one. I want a child to recognize that crazy white hair and know immediately, that animal is ours. I want people to understand that having a species found nowhere else in the world is something extraordinary—and that with that privilege comes responsibility. Because recognition changes things. When we recognize something, we begin to notice when it is disappearing. When we value it, we begin to ask what threatens it. When we become proud of it, we are much more willing to stand up and protect it. That is why an award from the Cámara de Comercio de Barranquilla matters to conservation. Every time Proyecto Tití is invited into a new room, onto a new stage or into a new conversation, the cotton-top tamarin comes with us. Someone who may never have heard of this tiny Colombian monkey learns its name. Someone else learns that it is endangered. Another person discovers that the tropical dry forest is disappearing.

And perhaps someone decides they want to help. Nearly 40 years ago, I came to Colombia asking, “What can I do to save the cotton-top tamarin?” Looking back, I realize there was something wrong with that question. Saving this species was never going to be about what I could do. It was going to depend on what we could do. Today, thousands of people have become part of the answer—scientists, field assistants, educators, farmers, artisans, students, teachers, landowners, community leaders, government officials, businesses, donors and families. What began as one person's question has become a shared commitment stretching across communities and generations.

So when Fundación Proyecto Tití's name was called at the Premios AVA, I was enormously proud of our team. But I was also proud that, once again, the cotton-top tamarin was being seen. Because every person who learns its name is one more person who might care about its future. And after nearly 40 years of working to save this remarkable little monkey, I have learned something very important: Before people can protect the cotton-top tamarin, they first have to know it exists. Then something begins to change. They see that wild shock of white hair, learn about its remarkable family life, and discover that this tiny monkey is found nowhere else on Earth but Colombia. Curiosity can become affection, affection can grow into pride, and pride can inspire people to action. Because when we feel connected to something—when we believe it is part of who we are and something we would be heartbroken to lose—we find a reason to protect it. That is how one little monkey can become a source of pride for an entire country. And that is how recognition can help save a species that is 100% Colombian and deserves to remain free in its forest home.