Growing up in an Indiana City

por Kasandra Richardson

Growing up in an Indiana city near many industrial pollution sources, I did not have much access to nature. However, when family moved to a nearby town that headquarters the Indiana Dunes National Park, I quickly benefited from experiences with the outdoors and environmental education. These experiences influenced my own education and career trajectory in the conservation field. The towns are only 25 miles away, but demographics and experiences in the outdoors vary greatly.

Kasandra in the outdoors

As a kid, my outdoor experiences were connected to family and food. Whether we were in south Texas or northern Indiana, I understood that being outdoors allowed us to connect in a way that not only strengthened our families, but our cultural expression as well. I innately understood the vastness of ecology just by noticing the differences between the sandy soil and cacti at my Grandpa’s house in south Texas and the lushness at my Aunt’s pond in northern Indiana. I was able to build on this understanding when I began participating in a program at my high school where we went camping and hiking in National Parks as part of a summer history course. Exposure to this type of outdoor recreation was so transformative in my formation of identity – it started me on a path of seeing the outdoors as somewhere I belong.

“I’ve since gone on to earn two degrees and work a variety of jobs in the conservation field, and most of these spaces are predominately white. Existing in these spaces leads me to appreciate what’s missing from the conversation about conservation and outdoor recreation and how these practices show up in LatinX culture even more”.


I used to think “how lucky they are” about people whose families grew up camping and doing the kinds of outdoor activities that we see in outdoor magazines. But this time around, at our most recent “Mendoza Family Reunion,” I had the language to describe the land around me in ecological terms. It was then that I realized how lucky I am to have understood the vastness of ecology and biodiversity before I knew the buzzwords of the conservation field.

Mendoza Family Reunion

How I experience nature now is regularly day-hikes, gardening and at least once a year I value spending a few nights camping and exploring a new place alone. These experiences help me keep myself physically and mentally healthy, I struggle with depression and anxiety and being able to put feet to dirt is incredibly helpful for me. Mental illness is at the same time prevalent and stigmatized in the LatinX community. My small way of fighting that stigma is sharing how nature helps me cope with my younger cousins and taking them on hikes when they visit Indiana. By doing this, I’m also able to share the knowledge I’ve built around the ecological world and outdoor recreation to help foster their relationships with nature that can offer them solace in the future. This is why we need more representation in the conservation field, so that people can share these experiences in authentic and meaningful ways and engage their loved ones in new outdoor activities.

“Today, as we spend more time indoors than ever, I’ve found new ways to connect with nature. Planting pollinator gardens for my family and friends has been a welcome outlet for me during the pandemic. Furthermore, witnessing Monarch’s frequent the garden in my family’s yard is a powerful way to connect with my Mexican heritage. The first Monarch that visited after the milkweed flowered, I’m sure was my grandma visiting”.

“I realized the symbolism of how nopal can exist in the Great Lakes, Mexico, and the American Southwest was important to more than just me”

I’ve also started going outdoors with friends more often, as I usually hike by myself, as a way to connect while staying safe. On my most recent meetup, I pointed out the prickly pear growing at the Indiana Dunes to my friend who’s also a Mexican-American living in the Midwest. The joy on her face was palpable, she snapped a picture for her family and I realized the symbolism of how nopal can exist in the Great Lakes, Mexico and the American Southwest was important to more than just me. Familiarity can be so transformative to how people experience nature, whether it’s a familiar plant or butterfly, a family member or friend, or even an affinity group, these connections can help up bring others outdoors in new ways while recognizing our traditional ways of showing up outdoors as equally valid and important. Affinity spaces and groups are what allow me to continue to work in conservation and participate in outdoor recreation, to survive in these predominantly white geographies and workplaces. They offer a space to heal that is necessary to continue to thrive and build networks where the future looks different than our current reality.

Today, Latino Outdoors means many things to me. It’s the joy on my friend’s face when she saw the nopal hiding in the sand. It’s bringing my cousins to my favorite trail as a little break from our loud (and lovable) family. It’s gardening to support pollinators. It’s family reunions with matching t-shirts in a field in South Texas. It’s visiting National Parks. It’s sitting in the yard.


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.


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.