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Category: Mapping Migraciones

Doors to the Outdoors

por Yoriko Richards Carreón

“Girls can be what they can see” is such an important concept. By opening up opportunities for ourselves, we also open doors of possibility for others.

I didn’t grow up with a life outdoors. I started exploring more when I was in college and living near the mountains. I fell in love with the wind, water, and tall pines. What started as once-a-month hikes slowly became weekly adventures. The outdoors healed me during a time when I felt a lot of anxiety and uncertainty in my life.

That love eventually led me to a job supporting outdoor programs. In many ways, that work healed something in me that I didn’t even realize needed attention. During my first week, I attended my very first women of color snowshoe hike.

I was scared and intimidated. What if I can’t keep up? What if they realize I don’t know what I’m doing? What if… and the thoughts kept going. I came into the event already imagining reasons to cancel.

Everything changed once we started walking and talking.

Every woman there was experiencing snowshoeing for the first time too. That immediately made me feel more comfortable with my own fears. If I was going to be scared, I could still do it scared. The staff was knowledgeable, encouraging, and made sure we felt safe and supported.

There was so much joy in watching people experience snowshoeing, or even the outdoors in community, for the first time. So much laughter, learning, and warmth. Watching everyone else shifted my mindset. Trying new things didn’t have to feel so intimidating.

That experience inspired me to keep pushing myself to try new outdoor activities. Now I trail run, backpack, and camp. All things that once felt intimidating are now part of my regular yearly rhythm.

A couple of years ago, I shared this story during a Latina meetup. Right away, people started asking me for tips, places to go, and how to get started outdoors. That was the moment I realized how powerful representation can be. By getting past my own fears and opening doors for myself, I could help make the outdoors feel less intimidating for someone else too.

I always say: you never know who is watching, who is being inspired, or who needed to see someone like them in a space they once felt they didn’t belong in.

Sometimes simply showing up is enough to help someone else believe they can too.

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. 

Imaginary Borders

por Maritza Oropeza

Like many, my family migrated from Michoacán and Nuevo León, Mexico. My great grandparents, Teodolo and Sanjuanita Pérez met at the migrant camps in Texas while eventually settling in Oceano, CA. My Apa and Ama lived the life of migrant workers following the harvest season and living where the work took them. Like many immigrants before them and after. After many years of hard work and struggle, they finally decided to plant roots in Oceano, California.

Growing up as a third-generation Chicana, my family’s story of migration from Mexico through the states has shown me that borders are imaginary lines that we created for unnecessary struggle.

One thing I take away from their struggle is that my Apa and Ama were the same people they were in Michoacán, Nuevo León, Texas, and Oceano, CA. Borders may exist to divide but family ties are indivisible.

My family migrated in search of better opportunities for their descendants. Just like birds that migrate and follow their natural instincts. Whenever I’m out in the natural world, I always take a moment to appreciate the land my ancestors left for us. Of all the birds, the eagle is the greatest sacred bird among most Native Americans. The meaning of the eagle symbol signifies courage, wisdom, and strength, which is very similar to what my family envisioned when they crossed the border into the United States.