No Milkweed, No Monarchs

Hi, my name is Sare. I am a young wildlife ambassador, and I studied Monarch butterflies and milkweed. Monarchs are easy to recognize because of their beautiful orange-and-black wings, but what interested me most was not their color. It was their journey—and the one plant they cannot live without.

Every year, Monarchs from the eastern United States and Canada make an incredible migration toward the mountains of central Mexico. Some travel thousands of miles. In New York, we can see Monarchs during spring and summer, and in late August many begin their long trip south. What makes this even more amazing is that the butterflies returning north the next year are not all the same individuals that left. The journey continues through different generations. It is almost like one butterfly begins a story and another one finishes it.

But before a Monarch can fly thousands of miles, it has to begin as a tiny egg. And that egg needs milkweed. Female Monarchs lay their eggs on milkweed because when the caterpillars hatch, milkweed is the only kind of plant they can eat. The caterpillars even take in chemicals from the milkweed that can help protect them from some predators.

This made me realize something important: if we lose milkweed, we lose the place where the next generation of Monarchs begins. Adult Monarchs can drink nectar from many different flowers, but their caterpillars need milkweed. A patch of plants beside a road, in a garden, at a school, or in a field might look ordinary to us, but to a Monarch it can be a nursery, a restaurant, and a safe place to grow.

Monarchs are having a difficult time because many of the places they need have disappeared or changed. Habitat loss, fewer milkweed plants, pesticides, drought, and changing climate conditions all create problems along their enormous migration route. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service has proposed adding the Monarch to the federal list of threatened species because of concerns about its future.

There is also some hopeful news. Scientists do not try to count every Monarch spending the winter in Mexico—it would be almost impossible! Instead, they measure the area of forest covered by millions of butterflies resting together. During the 2025–2026 winter, eastern Monarchs covered about 2.93 hectares, or 7.24 acres, which was 64% more than the previous winter. That is encouraging, but scientists warn that one good year does not mean Monarchs are completely safe. Their numbers can change a lot from year to year, so protecting their habitat is still very important.

And Monarchs are part of our New York story too. They can be found in meadows, gardens, fields, dunes, and other places where milkweed and wildflowers grow. New York is also part of their migration route. So when we plant native milkweed and flowers here, we are creating another little stopping place along a journey that connects Canada, the United States, and Mexico.

The good thing about helping Monarchs is that we can actually do something ourselves. Kids can plant native milkweed and native flowers with an adult, avoid harming caterpillars and chrysalises, observe Monarchs without touching them, and share what they learn with other people. Even a school garden or a small home garden can provide useful habitat. And when we plant flowers for Monarchs, we may also be helping bees and other pollinators.

Before studying Monarchs, I might have looked at milkweed and thought it was just another plant. Now I see something completely different. I see a tiny egg underneath a leaf. I see a caterpillar eating. I see a chrysalis hanging quietly. And eventually, I see orange wings beginning a journey that may continue for thousands of miles.

A butterfly and a plant may look like two separate things.

But they are part of the same story.

No milkweed, no caterpillar. No caterpillar, no Monarch.

Sometimes helping a butterfly begins by simply giving one plant a place to grow.