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Author: Ruby Rodríguez

Walks with Wolves

Por Sean Seary

My love for the outdoors is tied, inherently, to my childhood: growing up in the greater New York metropolitan area, I spent a lot of time playing sports outside with my friends, going for walks with my dog, and helping my mom, grandmother, and great-grandmother in the garden. I was very much into wildlife, and was always reading and watching shows about big cats, wolves, chimps, and so many other wild critters.

I looked up to people like Steve Irwin and Jane Goodall, who had helped foster not just curiosity for the wild world, but also love and compassion for its inhabitants. These conservationists taught many young minds, like my own at the time, that we should be doing our best to protect mother earth and all of the plants and animals that call this world home. They inspired me to want to work with animals, and so I made that my dream.

I’ve thankfully been able to make a career out of working in the environmental field, which is a blessing in and of itself. Throughout the various positions I’ve held and workplaces I’ve found myself in, I noticed a glaring lack of diversity in the environmental/outdoor/conservation world. As a mixed-race Latino of Puerto Rican descent, it wasn’t until I was an adult that I realized how truly underrepresented our people are in the greater conversation about conservationism and environmentalism. Which explains why popular environmental figures never looked, acted, or spoke like us.

As a mixed-race Latino of Puerto Rican descent, it wasn’t until I was an adult that I realized how truly underrepresented our people are in the greater conversation about conservationism and environmentalism.

After spending many years bouncing around environmental careers; from education to policy, outdoor recreation, and back into education, I was finally able to make my dream a reality. I started working at the Wolf Conservation Center in early 2022, and just like that my childhood dream to work with animals had come true! It took a lot of time, energy, and effort to make it this far, but perseverance and sense of purpose goes a long way.

At the Wolf Conservation Center, I get to work with wolves on a daily basis and teach programs that discuss the history of wolves throughout North America, the ecological role they play in their habitats, in addition to the human role in protecting their future. We’re currently home to 32 wolves, 30 of whom are critically endangered species who belong to a federally managed wild-release program (we’re a nonprofit who help facilitate and administer the program). The other 2 wolves are our Ambassador wolves, who are essentially wolf teachers and allow folks to experience what it’s like to see and be around wolves.

A lot of the work that we do, not just in terms of education and advocacy, but also through conservation efforts, helps change the negative stigmas and stereotypes about wolves. Like people, wolves live in family units (or packs) and they care deeply for their pack members. They are intelligent, beautiful, and emotional beings, and have every right to exist on this earth as we do. I’m incredibly thankful that my work not only allows me to change the perception of Latinos in the environmental field, but also change how people perceive wolves. While I’m getting to live out this childhood dream, I haven’t lost sight of the ambition that took me to this point, and will use it help make learning about wolves more accessible to disenfranchised and underrepresented communities.

Sean Seary is a 30-year-old environmental educator from the NY metro area who loves spending as much time as he possibly can outdoors. Whether it’s reading, running, hiking, or gardening, you can often find him outside living his best life. Currently, he is a Program Educator II at the Wolf Conservation Center, where he teaches about wolves and the human role in protecting their future.

Meandering Ways: Leaning Into My Leadership

por Ruby J. Rodríguez

In my twenties, I often committed to gatherings only to back out when I remembered that I actually prefer to chill at home, usually alone. Now, in my thirties, building community and getting out of my comfort zone is a practice that I value. So, I was fully aware when I signed up for a National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS) Executive Leadership course that I would be pushing my boundaries on many levels. Structured as a kayaking expedition on Mexico’s el Mar Bermejo (the Red Sea, otherwise known as the Sea of Cortez), I welcomed the investment in my personal and professional development. That did not stop subtle, brief moments of hesitation (even regret) from creeping up on me as the date approached. This will be good for me, I told myself.

After signing up for the executive leadership course, I participated in Latino Outdoors’ Mapping Migraciones initiative. This year-long collaboration with Audubon explores how birds and people are connected through geography and culture. I learned about my family’s migration story and realized that my great-great-grandmother Guadalupe migrated through the Red Sea, which is the same water I would be on. My relationship with nature, how I move through this world, and some of my leadership challenges, are all intertwined with my desire to heal and evolve from cultural assimilation and intergenerational trauma. That I would return to the same water that she journeyed on was an endeavor I never considered. 

The days went by until my travel date arrived. I triple-checked my gear list and ventured outside of the U.S. for the first time in my life. Upon landing at Loreto Airport, I cried a little when I saw the preciousness of the plants and landscape. A few minutes later, I met my expedition pod of mostly White men. I knew in advance that I was the only woman participant and one of two people of color, and had felt okay with that. I believed that I had a lot to offer the group. But, in my state of vulnerability, I became overwhelmed and felt myself close off.

Following an awkward and sleepy 90-minute drive to the NOLS Mexico campus, I decided to embrace the challenge and remain open to connecting with my pod. We sat and enjoyed a meal together, washed dishes, and moved through a facilitated conversation about our goals and personal contributions towards a successful expedition. I began to really see my pod members. I took a risk and offered my openness and trust, and requested their support of my presence on the expedition in exchange for my support of them. 

Sometimes I am comfortable with using my voice and can do so eloquently. My struggle is with being front and center as a designated leader and knowing that people are waiting to hear my voice. Designated leadership is a key component of NOLS’ training framework, and I was transparent about my desire to work on this during our time together. Well, my day as a designated leader came, and I promptly fumbled. Bleh. 

I had another chance to practice the following day. This time I showed up more prepared and practiced speaking from my diaphragm. I received props for that. We learned that rather than ask someone to adopt an inauthentic leadership style, we can come closer and practice listening intently to soft-spoken leaders like me. For me, it is a two-way street. Finding my signature leadership style is not about becoming a loud, talkative extrovert. It’s about building my confidence and communication skills and leaning into my own strengths. I offered resilience and community building to our expedition: two invaluable skills to have while working together towards a common goal. I also modeled the art of meandering through the subtleties of nature, which I believe supported wellness and introspection during a week of uncertainty. Making space for diverse leadership to develop and thrive will serve our teams, communities, and society in ways that empower us all.

On our last day in the field, I spent some time wondering what my great-great Grandma would think of my time snorkeling and practicing my leadership skills in the Red Sea. Connecting with her through the land and water has encouraged a kind of healing and growth that simply cannot be achieved from the comfort zone of my living room. 

A Change in Perspective

por Esme Plascencia

I felt a turn in the tide when I changed my major to Outdoor Recreation. I did not learn about Outdoor Recreation as a field of study until my second year of college. A family friend asked me, “Hey Esme, have you thought about studying Parks and Rec?” I was quite appalled that I had no clue that the activities I loved to do most were part of something bigger or could be part of a field of study. When I started college, I declared Photography as my major as I enjoyed photographing people and places.

“Hey Esme, have you thought about studying Parks and Rec?”

I grew up in Fort Bragg, CA, a popular tourist town along the California coast, where I would spend hours at the beach photographing the landscapes and sunsets. During my high school years, I took portraits of friends for their senior portraits and started a Facebook page of my photography so that people could see my work and refer me to their friends. It was a “side hustle” that I started for myself and one of my first experiences in entrepreneurship. Soon after, friends from my hometown started asking me if I could photograph them for their Quinceañeras! It felt fulfilling to be present for other people during their ceremony. It is truly a blessing to be able to capture the precious moments of a special occasion.

When we go through life changes, we can almost intuitively sense that we are passing into a new chapter of our lives; I certainly felt that when I changed my major. After practicing photography as a job, I realized that I did not want to do that for a living. I did not like the aspect of sitting behind a computer for hours editing pictures. I just wanted to be outside every opportunity that I got! My favorite part of photography was being outside and just being in the moment. It will always be a part of me, and I will still practice my skills when I get the chance.

This past summer, I was able to practice my photography skills on Black Oystercatchers. I used my 75-300 mm telephoto lens to capture close images of the birds. My observation partner, Dave, guided me towards all the spots where the Black Oystercatchers would be nesting over the summer to lay their eggs, feed, and care for their young. There were about seven different pairs of Black Oystercatchers we would visit weekly. Tracking the weather, seasonal changes, and the state of the Black Oystercatchers’ nests as the chicks grew offered quite a unique experience.

It all began when I was invited by my family friend to volunteer with California State Parks for this Audubon Bird Survey.

It all began when I was invited by my family friend to volunteer with California State Parks for this Audubon Bird Survey. The orientation meeting was held at the California State Russian Gulch Recreation Center, where I learned that this was the ninth year that the Bird Survey was going strong. There were several people who were experienced and some for whom it was their first time, such as myself. As I sat and listened to the presentation about Black Oystercatchers, I learned about the different behavior patterns of the birds and how to navigate along the coast to spot the birds. As I looked around, I found I was not only one of the youngest people in the room but also the only person of color.

As I looked around, I found I was not only one of the youngest people in the room but also the only person of color.

This had not been the first time that this occurred to me. I was used to this in the field, though I do not always feel comfortable in these moments. Yet I know deep in my soul that it is in these moments that personal growth happens. When I step outside of my own perspective to learn from others and about myself, I begin to understand the barriers that hold me or others like me back from these types of experiences. It may be time, finances, or not having the resources to try something new. It is not always easy for people to commit themselves to something outside of their own knowledge or understanding. It takes courage, which is something I believe every person has. Some just need a little guidance to realize their potential.

As the young Black Oystercatchers go through different stages in their life and learn to survive and grow in the environment around them, so too do people.

As the young Black Oystercatchers go through different stages in their life and learn to survive and grow in the environment around them, so too do people. We all need someone to guide us, and it takes time and commitment. Although it is now winter, when I go outside on a walk to the coastal trails I sometimes hear and listen to the call of the Black Oyster. They remind me of the sunny days and the definition of resilience. If they can survive the cold and harsh tides, then so can we.

Esme Plascencia is a first generation immigrant and college student. She was born in Guadalajara, Jalisco Mexico and raised in Fort Bragg, California. Upon graduating Fort Bragg High School, she moved to Sacramento to start her journey in higher education at Sacramento State University. She is currently a senior student majoring in Recreational Parks and Tourism Administration and aspires to become an outdoor educator/guide.