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Category: Representation Matters

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.

Lessons Learned From My Beloved Father

por Marisol Morales

As we celebrate Latino Conservation Week (July 18-26), I have been reflecting on my own experiences as a Chicana and of people who helped shape my views of the conservation movement. For me, conservation means stewarding our lands to preserve and respect all living things. The history of the conservation movement as we know it, is rooted in the destruction of the environment and cultural groups. The indigenous people who preserved and respected the land and the environment, were attacked. Their experiences and voices were ignored and silenced.

My father recently passed away, but he left me the most valuable lessons about people and nature. He believed that people, like plants, need to be cared for and respected.

“At an early age, I learned about the impacts of environmental injustice on our essential agricultural workers. I also learned how to hold a plant in my hand and admire its value and beauty”.

My father, Daniel Morales, was a farmworker and a dedicated environmental justice advocate. In the late 1940s, my father immigrated to California from Durango, Mexico with his parents and siblings in pursuit of the American dream. Growing up as a migrant child, he faced many hardships and his family struggled to make ends meet. At the age of eight, he worked picking prunes, tomatoes, topping garlic among other crops. Back in the ’50s, my father, and many farmworkers like him, experienced discrimination while working in the fields; there were no age restrictions to protect children, no breaks, no clean drinking water, no bathrooms. Today, farmworkers continue to be amongst the most vulnerable in our country; living in substandard housing, subjected to hazardous and inhumane working conditions, experiencing greater health disparities – including high rates of COVID-19, and are denied some of the most basic workplace protections.

Marisol and Dolores Huerta

My father’s rough life made him strong and resilient in the face of adversity. He transcended challenging times by becoming a life-long advocate for social justice. He devoted over four decades of service to the Center for Employment Training (CET) collaborating with the United Farm Workers (UFW). The farmworkers’ movement of the 1960s was a collective effort of diverse voices committed to social and environmental justice. They fought against discriminatory labor laws and advocated for workers’ rights, improved housing conditions for agricultural workers, and better wages for farmworkers. My family was honored in 2019, when California State Assemblyman Ash Kalra awarded my father the Latino Legacy Award for being, “ A staunch civil rights and social justice advocate.” In addition, he acknowledged his contributions to the farmworkers’ struggle for basic human rights.

Ten years ago, my father was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. He was invited to participate in a Stanford research study on farmworkers. Researchers were looking at the long-term effects of early pesticide exposure and the correlation to high rates of cancer in adults. After several tests, the results showed that he had DDT (Dichloro-diphenyl-trichloroethane) deposits in his body – the insecticide that was sprayed while he was working in the fields as a child. Similar studies have also shown that migrant children with high exposure to pesticides have significantly higher cancer rates. With more urgency than previous years, he fought for farmworkers’ rights.

I am forever grateful for my father’s compassionate leadership in the community that helped shape my understanding of conservation, advocating for justice for people and our natural resources. He understood the intersectionality between environmental justice, economic justice, and health on our relationship with nature. The memory of my father’s advocacy guides me in my pursuit of justice for communities of color within the conservation movement. Throughout his life, he embodied and shared the view, “Sí Se Puede!” (Yes You Can!). He believed all people can and should live with dignity. He worked with others to help create a better life for themselves, their families, and their communities. Conservation begins with self-respect and preservation of people. Conservation of the whole environment is fighting for justice for people and the protection of our land.

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.