At the height of the pandemic and George Floyd protests, marine biologist Jasmin Graham stumbled across a picture on Twitter: It was of Carlee Jackson Bohannon, a Black female scientist, decked out in all-pink gear, diving with a nurse shark in Belize.

Buoyed by the feeling that she “discovered a unicorn,” Graham, who is also Black, tweeted a message of appreciation. Within two weeks, she and Bohannon teamed up with two other Black women scientists to found Minorities in Shark Sciences, or MISS, a group dedicated to bringing more women of color out on the ocean.

In her new book, “Sharks Don’t Sink: Adventures of a Rogue Shark Scientist,” Graham chronicles how she fell in love with elasmobranchs, a group of fish that includes sharks, skates and rays, while growing up in Myrtle Beach, S.C., and elsewhere. That passion for marine biology brought her to academia, though she eventually abandoned that path due to the overt racism and misogyny she says she encountered there.

Instead, she launched her own research projects with the support of a network of women in marine biology, which she has expanded through MISS. Four years after its founding, the organization has over 400 members around the world, and offers fellowships, mentorship, workshops and educational opportunities for students, with the help of grants and donations from groups such as the Monterey Bay Aquarium, the Save Our Seas Foundation and the Schmidt Ocean Coalition.

One of the early MISS-led research vessels she worked on flew three flags: the Stars and Stripes, Black Lives Matter, and a Pride flag.

The Washington Post spoke to Graham about her work with sharks, her organization, and her book. This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

Washington Post: How did you get your start in marine biology, and why were you drawn to sharks?

Jasmin Graham: I always grew up [in South Carolina] going out fishing with my dad, and I just really loved being in and around water from a very young age.

I met a professor in undergrad [at College of Charleston] who studied sharks and I started working with them. I just figured out, “Oh wow, these animals have been around for such a long time, and they have so many cool adaptations.” They haven’t changed that much in hundreds of millions of years so they’re obviously doing something right.

People assume they’re man-eaters or they’re out to get them. And I was really drawn to trying to turn that around. They’re in the same part of the food web as dolphins, which are also predators. Why do dolphins get movies that are happy where little kids befriend them, and then sharks get scary music and they’re eating people? That’s not fair. I was really interested in helping people move from fear to fascination.

WP: In the book you weave fascinating information about various shark species through the telling of your life story. Why did you write it that way?

JG: I wanted to help people make a human connection with me as the person telling the story. Once we have that rapport between reader and author, helping them connect with sharks.

People sometimes assume I am scary because of my race and other factors I cannot control. People assume that sharks are scary because they have sharp teeth and they’re predators, but they’re really just trying to live their lives. I’m trying to take people step by step to make the logical connection of, we’re all here sharing this planet, no matter what being we are.

WP: You sometimes speak about these species as though they’re people — you call the bull shark “grumpy,” for example. Was that on purpose to draw that connection?

JG: There’s a big divide in the shark world [and among] scientists who study animals about how much is too much anthropomorphizing. You don’t want to make people think that nonhuman animals think like people because they don’t.

But I’m trying to put things in the perspective of the reality of what people understand. People understand “grumpy” and “agitated.”

That’s the closest human emotion that I could connect to the shark. It was really important to me to use language that was approachable to people. Science doesn’t have to be dry. We can talk about things that are silly, like animals that have a hedge trimmer on their face.

At the end of the day, we have to talk to people about what they understand. People have seen a hedge trimmer before. Let’s talk about those things and then introduce the scientific words once people have made the connection to what is their reality: “I understand this concept and now I can link it to the scientific word.”

WP: In the book, you chronicle your departure from traditional academia after getting your graduate degree from Florida State University, saying you went “rogue.” How did you forge this new path?

JG: Someone said, “the beautiful thing about rock bottom is that there’s only one way to go, and that’s up.” When you’re in a place of despair you just have to move forward. That’s [the idea behind] the title of the book, “Sharks Don’t Sink.” If sharks stop swimming, they literally will sink.

I needed to get somewhere I felt safe and secure, and where I felt connected to the ocean. If you keep walking forward, eventually someone will open a door.

WP: Tell me about Minorities in Shark Sciences and what it does.

JG: We’re trying to broaden participation in marine science as a whole and create a culture shift in the way that we do science, the way we treat each other as human beings in science.

We do that in a number of ways, all the way from kindergartners learning about the ocean through grade school to undergrads and early-career professionals learning the skills they need to be successful, and then supporting researchers as they’re doing their research to make sure it’s collaborative and inclusive.

We believe that diversity in science leads to diversity in thought, and that’s how you get innovation. That’s what we need to solve these problems that our oceans are facing.

WP: What does a MISS-led research trip look like?

JG: It’s all people of color for the most part. Our [principal investigators] are typically women of color. The culture on our research boats is very open and welcoming.

Unfortunately, in shark science there’s a lot of like, “Me man, me tackle shark,” and that attitude permeates through how people interact with each other too, like screaming at each other.

It’s not a very conducive place for learning or growing, so we try to be the opposite of that, where we’re high-fiving people and talking them through things. Whenever they mess up, being like, “That’s okay, we all mess up, here’s how we can do it better.” No one’s getting blamed if something goes wrong.

That network of support never goes away. For a lot of our members, it’s the first time they’ve had someone they felt truly understood them, saw them, valued them, respected them.

And then we also get to have fun conversations about our hair and nails. This one time we were on the boat and almost everyone had a full set of acrylic nails. There was one guy and he was like, “Oh, yeah, I have some questions about nails.” It’s great because usually it’s very male conversations. It’s flipping the script on that.

WP: What have you learned from sharks that you’ve applied to your career and your personal life?

JG: Sharks have much simpler lives than humans.

They’re just doing whatever they need to do that’s best for them. But there’s still a decision-making process and ultimately their self-preservation is what they’re putting above everything else. That’s something that I like to remind myself from the animal kingdom: You can’t accomplish anything if you get eaten. So metaphorically, I can’t let myself get eaten. I have to be worried about myself at the end of the day and make sure I’m taking care of myself because [otherwise] I can’t take care of anyone else.

Sharks do something similar with their young. There’s a process called maternal offloading when female sharks get a lot of pollutants in them, like mercury and toxins. To ensure they keep living to produce more young, they will dump a lot of their pollutants in their litter. Those pups might die but the mother has gotten rid of all of [the toxins] so now she can reproduce more. That is a self-preservation tactic.

WP: In early June, there were three shark strikes in the Florida panhandle. What would you tell people about the human-shark relationship to put them at ease or address the threat of a shark strike?

JG: The ocean has so many beautiful and wonderful things to offer. You should never let a fear keep you from all of these amazing things because the benefits greatly outweigh the potential threat.

There are people like me who study sharks and we’re around them all the time. Swimming with them, interacting with them. And most shark scientists that you see, we have all ten fingers and toes.

WP: And you’re yanking them out of the water.

JG: Yeah, and we can’t explain to them, “Hey, we’re just trying to help you,” right? So they’re going to be antsy. I’m in a much more intense situation than somebody just casually swimming.

Sharks aren’t any more evil than any other animal. You can do a lot to make sure that you’re not putting yourself in a position where you’re making an animal feel threatened.

I’m not saying that there aren’t any unprovoked attacks. And when those things happen, it’s very sad. But hundreds of thousands of people drive cars every day, and people die in car accidents all the time. There are things that we do to protect ourselves, but it doesn’t stop us from driving.

Sharks have every reason to be afraid of us; we have very little to be afraid of them. We kill a hundred million sharks a year every year, and sharks kill somewhere between 6 and 10 people a year.

We just have to be really mindful of the language that we use because animals in and of themselves aren’t scary. We should be trying to protect them, not vilify them.

WP: What is your advice for younger people or people who are interested in going into shark sciences or marine biology, but feel like they are up against racism and misogyny?

JG: You have to know your value and your worth and have that intrinsically in yourself, so deep that no matter what anyone says, you know that you deserve to be there.

You shouldn’t have to pay a price to do a job. If that cost is too high — and I’m not talking about money, but mentally, physically, emotionally — it is totally fine to say, ‘This is not worth it anymore.’

That’s what I did when I left academia. You can find other ways to engage, other organizations to work for. People will tell you, “Oh, well, if you leave this job, you’re never going to get another job.” That’s a lie.

WP: What’s next for your group, or your own research?

JG: MISS is going to keep doing its thing. For my research, I have a red tide project that I’m working on.

I’m just going to keep following questions that I find interesting. That’s the beauty of going rogue: There’s no, “You have to do this, you have to do that.” Whenever I find a scientific question I find interesting, I will explore it.