True Story: Representation in Wildlife Conservation

por Azalia Rodríguez

Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) within the last decade, for me, has fluctuated. I wish I could say confidently it has progressed forward in the conservation sector; however, that has not been the case in my lived experience. On some level, the need to be a more inclusive sector has provided me with opportunities, but I would like to think my accomplishments are based on my skills and work ethic instead of the boxes I check. I work in Texas, in the Hill Country, to be specific. Tejanos set a cultural milestone in the latest U.S. census by becoming our state’s largest demographic group. You would think with Tejanos being the largest demographic (and growing), I would see more people who look like me, talk like me, and hold similar cultural values to me in the area where I work, but I don’t. I am a young, Indigenous, wildlife conservationist Tejana in the Hill Country, and that alone puts me in a narrow category.

I remember going to my first network meeting so excited, and eager to make connections with people. I was finally in the door and had a seat at the table that I have always wanted to sit at. You see, my passion for wildlife conservation is inexhaustible, and I have energy like the wind. I can feel it all around me, and it’s expressed unapologetically. So when I say I was ready for this moment, I was truly taking it all in the present. I remember walking in and seeing everyone circled up. I walked around attempting to start conversations and introduce myself but wasn’t really getting an engaging atmosphere. I tried not to overthink and did my best to ignore imposter syndrome creeping in. There had to be about 100 people in the room, but somehow it felt like more. I was disproportionately the youngest in the room (I am in my late 20s) and shockingly uncomfortable. The best way I can put what the experience was like is, that it was not a welcoming room, and even now, I am not sure why or how. I sat to take my seat, purposely not getting on my phone so people could tell I was open to engaging, but nothing. When the opening presenter started his slide deck, to my surprise, the topic was DEIJ in wildlife conservation. I won’t ever forget this, he said, “there is a difference between inviting someone in the room and making them feel welcomed.” I couldn’t have said it better myself. After the presentation concluded, I went outside to call my husband. I was holding back tears trying to express my feelings in words and my frustration. In a professional setting, I felt so small and insignificant and embarrassed as if I did something wrong, as if I didn’t get the memo about something. I won’t ever forget that confining feeling of reality hitting me. I went to the restroom, looked in the mirror, and told myself, “It’s okay…you are qualified, you deserve to be here, and you worked to get here, it will be okay”. I took a deep breath and went back into that room. I wish I could say confidently it has progressed forward in the conservation sector; however, that has not been the case in my lived experience. I used to think it was just about having a seat at the table, but it’s not. It’s about people making efforts to ensure there is space for you, and sometimes you just have to make your own chair and bring it with you.

I now make an effort to speak up when that feeling returns, and I make sure to speak up when I see others looking uncomfortable because I always see it. My colleagues don’t see it, nor do they feel it, but I recognize it very quickly. I am not shy to speak on my lived experiences, because that’s what they are: my experiences. I still get nervous, my throat still gets shaky, and my hands still get sweaty. But, I bring myself to show up and speak up because if I don’t, progress will fail to happen. I am strong and brave like my mother. You see, she never completed the ninth grade and grew up significantly disadvantaged yet she made herself show up when it got hard. She ended up becoming a Senior Director of Risk Management for a multi-billion dollar company. She is what inspires me to keep moving the needle forward because I am exactly like her (igualitas), and I can take adversity so those who want to be in my sector, who are similar to me, do not have to.

One of my passion projects is “Lights Out, Texas!” (LOT) and I lead a citizen science study for it in Austin. When I lived in Dallas and first got involved, I was immediately sold on the idea of citizen science. LOT wasn’t just about saving wildlife, but I saw it as a way to get real science-based experience without needing a background in research, a more equitable way of getting involved in wildlife. I spent my whole adolescent life believing the lie we were all sold, that you need a higher degree to work in science and wildlife. But, there it was, $60K+ of student debt and two degrees later. That’s why I make sure all LOT resources are translated into different languages and do outreach to communities of color.

The truth is, DEI has gotten better for many people, but sometimes it feels like it’s a trend, and one day, the fad will be over. That is why I love Latino Outdoors so much, it’s a community that won’t go away even when everyone else stops talking about it. I can’t recall anyone around me ever knowing what DEI meant ten years ago, and so that tells me there is growth and people are listening, and so I am looking forward to these next ten years.

I used to Americanize myself more when I went to meetings or conferences, but not anymore. Just like having DEI statements won’t fix the issues at hand, my cultura should not be watered down to fit other people’s comfort. I don’t like feeling the need to assimilate to make others feel good about what DEI efforts they are doing. But, diversity or increasing representation in conservation will not happen until we are comfortable with calling it out. When I say we, I mean all of us because it can’t just fall on marginalized groups to recognize it. I am hopeful about the future of DEI in wildlife conservation, but I do owe it to myself and the next generation, to be honest about what reality feels like. This does not discourage me porque soy fuerte y valiente como mi mamá and obstacles are just opportunities waiting to be accomplished.


Azalia Rodríguez is an Outings Leader for Latino Outdoors Austin and works as the Texas Representative in the wildlife conservation sector of the Texas Hill Country. She is passionate about wildlife and saving imperiled species in any way she can. Although qualified and driven, her experience speaks to challenges in the conservation sector of Texas. She shares about the crossroads of cultura y conservation as it pertains to DEI growing pains as Texas engages in a culture shift.


Waking Up Brown

por Maritza Oropeza Kritz

Product of migration

Historic segregation

You look different, your hair is frizzy

Brown eyes, tan skin

How do you get your skin so tan?

You don’t look Mexican

How do you pronounce your name?

Waking up Brown

Part of the American statistic

Raised by a single mother

The drive instilled in us to succeed

The fear of the chancla

Towers of Pan Dulce at Abuelitas‘ house

Fights over who gets the Marranito Corrido’s in the background on Sunday afternoons

Chili so hot your eyes burn

How do you pronounce your name?

Waking up Brown

When you call us illegals

Denying our humanity

To maintain your own vanity

I mask the discomfort to fit in

You love our culture

But not our people

How do you pronounce your name?

Waking up Brown

Will this war ever end?

Land of the free

Stolen from me

How do you pronounce your name?