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Category: Representation Matters

From Caracas to Corvallis

por Eduardo González-Dorta

I was born and raised in Caracas, Venezuela. I grew up exploring the Venezuelan plains, beaches, and tropical forests. Eleven years ago I moved to Colorado by the Rocky Mountains National Park, Sand Dunes NP, and much more, all of which reinforced my love of the outdoors and wildlife. I graduated from the University of Colorado – Denver with double majors, Sociology and Criminal Justice. During college, I worked in the offices of Boulder County and Denver County District Attorneys, as the only bilingual assistant. During the last three years, I worked as a Bilingual Educator Performer at the Denver Museum of Nature & Science, engaging diverse audiences, and communicating communities’ needs and values while developing and implementing culturally appropriate programming. I am currently working at The Willamette Valley National Wildlife Refuge Complex, in Corvallis, Oregon. Here as the US Fish and Wildlife Latino Engagement Program Coordinator l am engaging the community and familia to what this wonderful place has to offer.

Starting a community outreach program in the middle of a pandemic, with rain, and cold weather, one could say, is less than ideal. However, how we say back home pa’ lante es pa’lla. Since the end of October 2020, I have made my home in William L Finley National Wildlife Refuge, Oregon. There are plenty of wetlands and a myriad of birds and mammals to spend the whole day watching and learning from. The contrast with Colorado is remarkable, no brown only a wonderful palette of greens, yellows, and grays. My job with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife is Latino Engagement, Program Coordinator. So, my first goal was to make sure all the literature was bilingual and accessible to all communities, secondly, was to provide bilingual programs and activities to all surrounding communities, welcoming them into the refuges and encouraging their interest in the wildlife.

In order to communicate in times of COVID, I contacted every single agency providing fun and rich programming and resources that would serve the Latino children and their families. We worked on making all materials bilingual and culturally relevant. I had to create, adapt, and implement activities for all ages so families will feel welcome.

In the refuge, there is not such a thing as a “rain check”. We work and offer our programs rain or shine because that is the beauty of this place, fauna and flora are always available to give a show to the keen or the beginners eye. Many days at our pop-up activities tent, it is me and my friends the egret, a gang of elk, or a shy bobcat. However, my bookings have been getting filled up with families coming to the refuge to participate in guided activities and science. Familias are also coming. They like sharing that time outdoors with kids and the great wildlife at the refuge. They only need a good chamarra and patience to enjoy.

Un Mar De Colores “One Ocean Touches All Shores”

por Mario Ordóñez-Calderón

The ocean is one of the biggest connectors we as humans have on this planet. An experience in the sea in any capacity can have an enormous impact- it has the power to embrace and humble, calm and empower. My love and understanding for the ocean came later in life. It was through the art of surfing that my perspective shifted, and I no longer viewed the ocean shore as the great divider but instead as the beginning of exploration and connection.

Learning to surf was every bit as challenging as it was exciting. Navigating crowds, learning how to read the waves, and understanding tides were all part of that process. Not to mention, fifteen stitches from a wipeout gone wrong can mentally and physically leave its mark. I kept paddling out despite the growing pains, becoming addicted to all the sensations that came with surfing. I loved the way my first duck dive into the cold water left me feeling cleansed of all stresses, the deep tranquility I found while sitting out in the line up and the flow state while cruising down the open face of a wave. Learning to surf helped me learn more about myself. I gained not only self-clarity, but also a community of fellow surfers who shared my passions in and out of the water.

“I recognized that I was lucky enough to have a friend already immersed in surf culture to help me feel comfortable out in the water. It was this reflection that prompted me to question how I could return that favor for other multicultural youth with a similar upbringing as mine”.

Mario Ordóñez-Calderón

I remember the moment when the idea of sharing my passion for surfing with others sparked. Two years ago, while loading up the car to surf I’d see my Guatemalan neighbor’s kids playing out front or getting ready for school. As I drove away to the beach –less than a mile down the street– I looked back through the rear view mirror and saw kids that reminded me of myself in my youth. I began to wonder why it was that I never saw that family heading to the beach.

This subtle observation sparked within me a series of questions to try and understand why I didn’t see more Latinos out in the water, even though the Latino population in San Diegos were so large. As I reflected on my own experience, I recognized that I was lucky enough to have a friend already immersed in surf culture to help me feel comfortable out in the water. It was this reflection that prompted me to question how I could return that favor for other multicultural youth with a similar upbringing as mine.

From that blossomed Un Mar De Colores. We are a nonprofit organization that bridges the socioeconomic gap in surfing by providing free surf lessons to children of color and underserved youth. The mission is simple: share the ocean, diversify the lineup, and inspire youth. We create a space that offers a safe, relevant, and inclusive presence within communities and neighborhoods that have historically not received equitable opportunities to experience the ocean and use their voice.

We want to drive home the message that the ocean does not discriminate, it welcomes all and provides a ‘sense of place’ no matter an individual’s circumstance or color. We hosted our first Surf Fiestas in the Summer of 2020 and have been working closely with a young group of local North County kids since. We choose to go deep with a select group of 10-15 kids under the age of 12 offering them one-on-one mentorship with primarily BIPOC surfers. A key element of Un Mar De Colores is the constant effort to inspire passion and purpose through play, encouraging participants to find direction in the world through the things that bring them joy. We truly believe something as simple as catching a wave has the opportunity to teach a child their greatest life lessons.

UMDC’s second (and just as important) mission is providing visibility into an already existing rich culture of people of color within the surfing community. Our media initiative called #RepresentationMatters highlights surfers/watermen/waterwomen of multicultural backgrounds in order to show the beauty of diversity in the ocean community. We strongly believe that representation in media has a powerful impact, and is a key component in the success of multicultural youth involvement and dedication to understand the ocean as their space, too. #RepresentationMatters has truly given us the ability to inspire through art. Most recently, we collaborated with Patagonia Cardiff and Santa Barbara based artist DJ Javier to create a mural called “The Beach is For All” on the side of their storefront. Un Mar De Colores is just as proud about our art scholarships in which we grant funding to several BIPOC artists throughout the year in order for them to create ocean/surf inspired art. Whether it be a painting, a surf film, or an illustration- we see the importance of promoting the connection between art, surf, and diversity.

Un Mar De Colores has been taking shape strongly over the past half a year, and it’s all thanks to the ongoing community support. It takes a village to change culture and cultivate a more inclusive surfing community for posterity, and as a non-profit we’ve gotten as far as we have because of the continuous support from our volunteers, friends/familia, and donors. At the end of the day, I’m filled with gratitude with the ability to have a positive ripple effect in the lives of others. The ocean gave me a sense of belonging. Living a life so interconnected with it has opened doors for me in just about every aspect of my life. Passing that along to others is a cherry on top. I’m looking forward to continuing to share this passion as we start to move things along for our 2021 program.

In addition to being a surfer and co-founder of Un Mar de Colores, Mario is a mountaineer, bikepacker, and much more. Get to know him through Cycle of Ancestry, a short film about Mario’s cultural heritage and love for the outdoors.

Mapping Migraciones: From the Tropics to the Tundra | Sandhill Crane

por Leslie Gonzalez Everett

The migration of many Puerto Ricans to the US mainland, particularly to the Northeast and to Florida, follows well-established patterns. My Father, like many Puerto Ricans, came to New York City in search of work and opportunity in the post-WWII era. He migrated and settled in the Bronx alongside his brothers and sisters and their families. He began to build his life like many Puerto Ricans, working in a factory and becoming a part of the growing community in the barrios of New York. They would travel back and forth, indeed like migratory birds, to visit the island and spend time with family and come back to the lives and community they were building in the city.

It was during one of these migratory trips to Puerto Rico that my father met my mother, and soon they began migrating together. All throughout my childhood, yearly like clockwork when summer rolled around, we would pack our bags and take flight from New Jersey to San Juan to spend time with family. We would land at my Abuelita’s house and spend two- weeks going house to house, or house to beach visiting with all my Tios, Tias, Primos, y Primas. We ate and played our way across the island and made the most wonderful memories year after year.

When I was twelve years old, my parents decided to move to Florida. We settled in Central Florida, again following a tried-and-true migratory pattern, landing near family in an area that had a very robust Puerto Rican community. The migration pattern to and from Puerto Rico on an almost yearly basis would continue into my high school years.

It was not until I met my husband, James (a Floridian since birth), married, and began a family of my own that the near yearly migrations to Puerto Rico stopped. We created our nest in Central Florida, close to my parents and raised our son in the same town where my husband was born and grew up. Like many young families, the funds for yearly trips were scarce, and the focus of our efforts became raising our son, working and the everyday routine of life. It was not until our son, Jimmy, had graduated from college that we would abandon our now-empty Central Florida nest, in search of something new.

With our nest empty, as our son joined the Peace Corps and began his service in Colombia, James and I decided that it was time for us to go on an adventure of our own. So, in a move that is still heralded by friends and family in Florida as being Loco/Crazy, we left our career jobs, packed up our camper and decided to head west to Yellowstone country. The mountains were calling, and so we went. We traveled across the country to come live and work in Yellowstone National Park. It was (and continues to be) the adventure of a lifetime, a new migration west.

We lived inside the park for two summers working seasonally, and then relocated to Montana as Yellowstone and Big Sky Country worked its magic on us. I have never experienced a landscape so wild and majestic, and so vasty different from the flatlands of Florida or the tropics of Puerto Rico. How can it be that I find myself in a place where my soul feels at home, and yet I am so clearly a foreigner? To put it in context, the estimated Puerto Rican population in Montana and Wyoming COMBINED is less than 3200! I can’t find gandules, platanos and bacalao without driving for miles and miles (if then!) and forget about pasteles.

Yet here I am living my best post empty-nest life, enjoying a natural world like no other in the lower forty-eight with flora and fauna that I never thought of coexisting with. Grizzly bears, mountain lions, bison, elk, mule deer frequent the area where I now live. Nature surrounds me; It challenges me with new experiences and comforts me with its familiar patterns.

Every year I look forward to springtime. Spring brings many familiar “faces” to the landscape, robins, white pelicans, and others each following their own migratory pattern that brings them here. But my favorite is the Sandhill Crane. Their presence is comforting and familiar. I will always remember the first time I saw a Sandhill Crane in Yellowstone NP, they arrived shortly after we did to the park’s interior. A small group landed in Hayden Valley and I was mesmerized, thinking “I wonder if they made the trip from Florida, like us”?

In Central Florida Sandhill Cranes are everywhere and when I see them arrive in Montana, they always make me smile. I feel that (like me) they look somewhat out of place and yet perfectly at home. Their gangly tropical appearance that is akin to a flamingo always looks mismatched to me against the rugged snow-capped Rocky Mountains, particularly in early spring. Yet, crown held high and wings out, they strut across the landscape slowly and deliberately making their nests, making their home.

Leslie Gonzalez Everett lives in Paradise Valley (Emigrant), Montana with her husband James and rescue dog, Buddy. She enjoys wildlife watching, hiking, kayaking, and trying to make arroz con gandules like her Mami and Abuela (which is still a work in progress). Leslie is the former Chief Administrator of the official non-profit partner for Yellowstone National Park.