Home Again

por Zairy Ramos

For many of us connecting to nature feels innate. It’s as if our souls crave a quintessential peace and balance that could only be found immersed amongst the tall oaks, maple lined paths or within the sweet embrace of calming fresh pines. Nature is the center of my being; it is a harmonious essence that fulfills my deep desire for tranquility and wildness in its purest form.

Many of us grow up without fully understanding how to fulfill this need for the outdoors even though the need is deeply rooted dating back a multitude of generations. Often times that’s because we forget, but nature quickly reminds us by filling us up with feelings of nostalgia and unexplainable gratitude.

“For me, most of my childhood was cultivated by survival. I spent most of my young life scaling fish in the Caribbean with my Puerto Rican grandfather. He wasn’t a man of many words and I loved that. He taught me early on the importance and the power silence bares”.

Growing up on an island was very special. My grandparents raised me to believe that our rainforests and our seas amongst other natural wonders were the most important aspects of this world. I had very little notion of material possessions. They were unimportant. My mother worked hard; she did her best to rise from poverty and moved to the States in an attempt to do so. This is the story of so many Latinos. I felt lucky that I was able to remain on my beautiful island. Life was grand, being raised by my grandparents was by far and to this day one of my most prized memories. One day my mother returned for me and without knowledge, she packed my belongings. In less than 24 hours I was forced to wave goodbye to my loving “viejos”, the arborous forest and the gentle seas that held every secret I left unspoken.

“New Jersey became home, a place I never longed for but now deeply love. I have rooted myself here amongst hundreds of state and national parks, amongst fresh waterways and the Atlantic Ocean and I wouldn’t have it any other way”.

Many Latinos share a similar story, where life decides we belong elsewhere and we most do our part along the journey to adapt. I adapted and while the Caribbean Sea is not near, there is beauty here I was depriving my soul to see. It’s amazing what we miss when we pity ourselves.

If you are ever uprooted or seek to feel whole again, you too can find home once again in a new geographic location. We are human, and we have an immense ability to adapt. Exploring nature is the same in all parts of the world. Mother nature’s creations are always there to receive us with open arms.

My love and connection to the outdoors stems from a desire to reconcile with all that drains me and takes a hold of me. Loosing myself in the woods for me is equivalent to feeling an immense amount of selfless love. Nature is divine, always there to mend your soul. Let every step be part of your spiritual journey towards re-balancing and rejuvenating the parts of you that feel depleted.

Nature offers me and many others a place where caramel complexion isn’t a threat nor a hindrance. It is a place where our untamed natural beauty is unseen blending with the browns and the shades of green, empowering and welcoming us as part of its diversity. Aside from captivating views, nature offers us more than we could ever be thankful for. It’s a real-life picturesque canvas available to all despite race, gender, sexuality or socio-economic status. We are powerful beyond measure, let no person define or put boundaries on what we were born to explore. We belong, never allow perception or the entitlement of others define the space so many of us long for and adore. For me and perhaps for you the great outdoors is unspoken poetry, essential to the wellbeing of our soul.

Caring for Nature with Pride and Joy

por Felix González

I am a second year graduate student studying Environmental Science at Pace University in New York. I am currently 26 years old and will be starting my thesis soon on the effects of man-made dams on aquatic ecosystems.

I become engulfed with pride and joy as I’m able to share my photos and knowledge with everyday people who also care for our natural world and the creatures living side by side with us.

I am currently working as an intern at Rockefeller State Park Preserve. During my time there, we are surveying the local turtle population to better understand what species are present and how abundant they are. In one of the photos, I am holding the largest common snapping turtle we recorded in our survey which weighed in over 20 pounds. While we conduct our research we teach parents and kids who pass by about our project and why it is important for us to know what is present in the preserve area. When we are not conducting the survey, we watch over our local Purple Martin nesting site and make sure they are breeding safely and stay well protected.

Although I’m only an intern working with the state, I become engulfed with pride and joy as I’m able to share my photos and knowledge with everyday people who also care for our natural world and the creatures living side by side with us.

Felix González is currently a Master’s of Science student at Pace University in Pleasantville, New York. A 26-year-old Puerto Rican from the Bronx, he is also a fisherman, hiker, trail runner, and wildlife photographer. Felix’s passion for the outdoors has been with him since he was a child, and he is finally able to live out his dreams of working in and protecting the great outdoors.

A Homecoming in the Outdoors

por Nadia Rodríguez

Growing up in Queens, New York within a Latino immigrant family the closest I got to being outdoors was the neighborhood playground, along with occasional trips to Central and Flushing Meadow Park. These were short day trips that consisted of barbecues, lawn lounging, and sneaking over to the handball courts to crush on whatever dreamy boy was around. In essence, these were socializing opportunities and not necessarily moments designed to commune in nature.

the experience was torturous; my only escape was the woods.

My interest in the outdoors was originally ignited during a short residency I had in the Upstate New York area. I was 6 or 7 years old and was sent off to live in a now-defunct facility called the Asthmatic Children’s Foundation (ACF) for a year or so. Though my parents had the best intentions in placing me there, the experience was torturous; my only escape was the woods. Nestled in between a network of lush trees, mountains, and lakes stood an industrially designed single-story building where I was housed with other Brown and Black asthmatic city kids. We all had different issues acclimating to our new surroundings and reacted accordingly. Some acted out while others created alternative families with the other kids. I did a little of both, but I also made the surrounding woods my haven. I hid amongst the trees, ran in fields, caught tadpoles, and made up imaginary worlds to escape into. Once my parents recognized how unhappy I was living there, they pulled me out and brought me back home. I was happy to be back, but I missed the woods. I missed the feeling of being alone yet connected to something bigger than myself even if I didn’t recognize that feeling for what it was at the time. It wouldn’t be until my adult years that I would ever really get to visit the woods in the same way.

My interest in the outdoors was reignited by the promise of a trip to Alaska that did not end up panning out. And although I was unable to make it that far out into the Northwest, I was determined to make it as far out as I could. I reached out to a good friend who lived in Washington State and shared my plan with him. He offered me his support, a place to stay, and his company on my journey. So with that in mind I bought a ticket, trained weekly, and started collecting gear for my trip. To say that this experience changed my life would be an understatement—it was a homecoming. We ended up driving through and camping out on Mt. Rainier, hiking arbitrary trails that caught our fancy along the way. Everything up there felt magical, lush, and picturesque, like a postcard or state emblem come to life. I could taste the earth in the air.

Spending time outdoors is how I find peace and connection, not only to the Earth, but to my ancestors who lived off the Earth. It is my inheritance.

Every sight I saw, every moment experienced, I experienced with my heart in my throat and excitement pulsing through my veins. It was a spiritual awakening of sorts and I haven’t looked back since. Spending time outdoors is how I find peace and connection, not only to the Earth, but to my ancestors who lived off the Earth. It is my inheritance. The outdoors were and continue to be my sanctuary. As Frank Lloyd Wright said “I put a capital N on nature and call it my church.”

Nadia enjoys a homecoming at Mt. Rainier National Park.

Being in contact with nature has tremendous healing powers and it belongs to us all. Too often Brown and Black communities do not have the same access to outdoor spaces as white Americans do, and we lose touch with nature and our connection to it. It is imperative that we maintain our lineage to the Earth and allow ourselves to experience everything the outdoors has to offer when we have the opportunity to do so. My hope is that we continue to create more and more opportunities for ourselves and for our communities.

Nadia Rodriguez is a hiking/camping enthusiast from New York who takes special interest in social and environmental justice, and equity advocacy. She works for the National Audubon Society and contributes to the organization’s ED&I efforts. She’s also the Co-Owner of Luna Ruda, an online retail business selling ethically sourced – fair trade products from South American artisans. Nadia enjoys spending time with her son, thrifting & record shopping, and engaging in self-care practices.