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Tag: Latino Outdoors

Connecting the Generations

por Marilyn López

I often think about my family trips to Guanajuato, Mexico. Growing up, my parents, younger brother, and I would make the 16-hour drive from Houston every summer to spend time with my paternal grandparents, aunt, and uncle.

We traversed las sierras de Tamaulipas into the low mountain ranges of San Luis Potosi until finally reaching the distinct clay brick and concrete houses del Cerro Gordo, Guanajuato.

This is where I learned to play in the dirt, developed a taste for nopales, and realized that different types of maíz existed (or as the saying goes, “sin maíz, no hay país”). My fondest memories include going grocery shopping with our colorful bolsas de mercado and stopping by la paletería y nevería afterward for a quick indulgence. Back en el rancho, I would help my tía y abuelita wash clothes outside by hand using la tabla, and then hang them up to dry. We would tend to the chickens, horses, and goats with the utmost love and care. Food never went to waste, and water was used wisely. I became aware of the human-nature relationship and our profound responsibility to preserving our environment.

These early childhood experiences in connection with physical and human geography, which were critical to my understanding of the self and the world around me, are only but recuerdos now. It has been 20 years since I last visited my second home. I’m now left to figure out: how do I build a connection for my 3-year-old daughter to the outdoors y con sus raíces mexicanas, when we live more than 2,500 miles away from family and nuestra Madre Patria?

“This is where I learned to play in the dirt, developed a taste for nopales, and realized that different types of maíz existed”

Marilyn López

As a second-generation Tejana through my mother, but first-generation Mexican American through my father, my Chicana identity was formed by way of having what Gloria Anzaldúa calls a “forked tongue” (the ability to speak Spanish and English), through the practice of cultural Catholicism, being raised in a predominantly Latino community, Tejano home cooking, and Mexican images and symbols plastered throughout our home. Thus my identity and resilience were so exquisitely preserved I never had a reason to question it, but for my daughter, who was born and is being raised in the Pacific Northwest, how do I build that same foundation? Because to me culture and nature are intertwined.

Our family’s journey in reconnecting with the outdoors and bridging that cultural and spiritual gap began by first recognizing that Latinxs remain significantly underrepresented in outdoor participation and the environmental movement’s leadership. Not to mention a report published by the Center for American Progress states that “people of color, families with children, and low-income communities are most likely to be deprived of the benefits that nature provides” (July 2020). With this in mind, my husband and I sought out local Seattle organizations and public events focused on connecting Latinx youth and their families to engaging and meaningful experiences in nature. The only ones we found intent on creating access and opportunity to these particular spaces were Latino Outdoors and Washington Trails Association (in partnership with LO).

“Our family’s journey in reconnecting with the outdoors and bridging that cultural and spiritual gap began by first recognizing that Latinxs remain significantly underrepresented in outdoor participation and the environmental movement’s leadership”.

Marilyn López

As a result of Washington’s COVID-19 social distancing measures, we’ve ventured outside more than usual. From bicycle rides in North Bend to camping in Olympia to trail hikes in Anacortes, my husband and I have been intentional about providing our daughter with rich opportunities to explore the outdoors. Children are already natural explorers, so our goal is to integrate nature and outdoor play into our daily lives. Since playgrounds have been temporarily closed, we started going on bicycle rides around our neighborhood in the evenings and going on family-friendly trail hikes on weekends. I started running regularly, and now my daughter enjoys running alongside me too.


Back in May, the Hispanic Access Foundation (HAF) released its 2nd Annual Congressional Toolkit and policy recommendations, where it noted that “recent polls have shown that Latinos care deeply about the environment, a sentiment that is rooted in a culture and history of taking care of the land for future generations.” As reflected in my own experiences, environmental stewardship and conservation are ingrained en nuestra cultura. For now, I want my daughter to grab puños de tierra, breathe in the reassuring smell of fresh pine, and engage in curious play, but ultimately, I hope to raise my daughter to be an environmental justice chingona who will embrace her abuelita knowledge and view the disruption of settler colonialism as a moral obligation.

Gus sits in a red fire truck waving out the window.

For our Children…forever.

por Gustavo (Gus) Martínez

The mission of the National Park Service is perhaps one of the most noble statements memorialized in law “to conserve the scenery and the natural and historic objects and the wild life therein and to provide for the enjoyment of the same in such manner and by such means as will leave them unimpaired for the enjoyment of future generations”.

For over thirty years I have supported this mission and devoted my career to ensuring that these words translated into real action. Working in the Law Enforcement, Security and Emergency Services (LESES) program the focus was on public safety; Law Enforcement, Fire, Emergency Medical Services, Search and Rescue. My career took me to various stunning locations from the Santa Monica Mountains, the granite walls of Yosemite, the shores of Point Reyes National Seashore, the border lands of Big Bend and the barrier Islands of Padre Island. Eventually (at the urging of my wife Sylvia) we made it to Alaska at Glacier Bay. We returned to Yosemite for my final assignment as the Deputy Chief Ranger of LESES, were I reached the mandatory retirement age for emergency services. Now, I have since returned to Glacier Bay as the Safety, Health and Wellness officer for Southeast Alaska.

Gus and YLP Cohort. Photo by Sylvia Martínez

I was fortunate that there were teachers, mentors and counselors that helped me on my path. My high school biology teacher sparked my interest in ecology and camping. I studied with Dr. Roderick Nash at the University of California, Santa Barbara who helped me see my place in wilderness and how I can protect it. The Religious Studies courses with Dr. Inés Talamantez introduced me to the spiritual ways that Native American people revere the land and created in my young mind a new appreciation for open spaces and a sense of belonging. My career counselors guided me on my first opportunity to work with the National Park Service at the Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation Area.

Outer Coast Grizzly. Photo by Sylvia Martínez

The National Park Service (NPS), then and now, struggles with becoming a true reflection of the demographics of this country. I was part of a cohort of students of color that were recruited in attempt to diversify the NPS. This led to what I now know as “micro-aggressions” directed at me from other NPS employees that saw me as competition for a coveted position which I was “taking” from them. Yet, there were other employees that supported the idea of diversity in the workplace and supported and mentored me early in my career. They understood that my success was an asset to the National Park Service. I was a hard worker and an eager learner, having grown up working in the fields of the San Joaquin Valley, I had a strong work ethic.

Gus y Sylvia at Yosemite National Park. Photo by Sylvia Martínez

“They understood that my success was an asset to the National Park Service. I was a hard worker and an eager learner, having grown up working in the fields of the San Joaquin Valley, I had a strong work ethic”.

Gus Martínez

Now, change is happening to the National Park Service. I would like to think that I have had a small part in this. I made the effort to outreach and share the mission of the National Park Service with people underserved communities. My efforts were mostly focused on bringing school groups and Police Explorer posts to the public lands I worked at. As I took on leadership roles in the agency, I challenged the supervisors that worked with me to be creative and use different hiring authorities to bring in more people of color to diversify our workforce. I started groups and events to create a sense of community and belonging. At Yosemite National Park I became actively involved in mentoring the students that participated in the U.C. Merced Yosemite Leadership Program. There has been some success, but the key is getting people of color to feel they are also a part of this mission of conservation and preservation.

I see groups like Latino Outdoors and Outdoor Afro as the link that was missing in my efforts. Recently, during Latino Conservation week I was gratified to see so many fellow Latino NPS staff post their pictures, proudly wearing the “grey and green” of the National Park Service. Thirty years ago, I couldn’t imagine seeing so many diverse, young, excited people working to advance the mission of the National Park Service. As my adopted Native brethren, the Huna Tlingit of Alaska, say “Haa Yatxee Jeeyis Aya, For our Children Forever”.

Maria Jose Ramirez leans against a rail with tall natural grass in the background

I am a woman from Santiago Chile

por María José Ramírez

First, I am a woman from Santiago Chile, a city with over 7,000,000 people and with a vibrant city life, but in a country that is frequently considered “the end of the world”. Surrounded by the immensity of the Pacific Ocean, the loneliness of the Atacama Desert and the impenetrability of the Andes cordillera, it could be considered an island. With almost 4,000 miles (6,435km) of coastline, for me, being outdoors meant going to the beach, or any place with a water, biking to the top of the San Cristóbal hill every weekend, and enjoying the city’s parks. However, even if I was very physically active and enjoyed being outside, to the surprise of many, I never considered myself a very “outdoorsy” person. I never really camped, having done so only a handful of times by the age of 30.

From a very young age, I was interested in positive youth development, collaboration and learning how to help people to lead more authentic lives. Although my school focused mostly on academics, it also emphasized involvement in youth sports during middle school and high school. This gave me an appreciation for how out-of-school programs can help young people get to know themselves better, reflect on their values and to determine who they want to be. That interest eventually led me to start a PhD in Experiential Education at the University of Edinburgh in 2016, and then to The Pennsylvania State University for completion of my PhD in Recreation Park and Tourism Management, where I researched the perceived long-term influence of youth expeditions on participants’ lives.

Photo shared by María José Ramírez

“Upon arriving in the UK, I began to learn about youth expeditions and organizations like Outward Bound, NOLS, and The British Exploring Society. Neither I nor my friends had heard about youth expeditions or these organizations, but since I was interested in youth development, this seemed like a good opportunity to expand my knowledge”.

María José Ramírez

Expeditions have a long history, part of which relates to conquering remote places. This was a tradition that I was not familiar with from “the conquering side” but from the “conquered” one – we were taught that America was “discovered and conquered” by European expeditions, and we learned nothing about whether or not indigenous people ever went on expeditions, and if so, what the nature and purpose of these trips were.

During my time at Penn State, I had the opportunity to go on a three-week expedition to the Yukon with the British Exploring Society, and on a 7-day canoe expedition to the Delaware Water Gap with Outward Bound Philadelphia. These experiences broadened my understanding of working with teams in remote situations, learning to trust others and realizing how much more we can achieve if we have people supporting us.

Now, love has brought me to the “country roads” of West Virginia. Living in Morgantown, a city with a population of around 30,000 people in Appalachia has come with its challenges. Being from a big city, planning what to do in the outdoors is overwhelming; kayaking, hiking or blueberry picking are not things I used to do, and there are many other activities that I’m sure I haven’t even heard about yet. One thing that is clear, though, is that West Virginia has a wealth of outdoor recreation opportunities, including biking, climbing, swimming and exploring its rugged, rural landscape.

I am so excited to belong to the Latino Outdoors community, and am looking forward to bringing my research and lived experience to bear as we support each other in exploring the outdoors together!