![[photo from Urban Bird Collective Website]](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/64246a1951853227e9ab9a0a/1680108104086-CRX7UF6QB6VY09E1954U/Screen+Shot+2020-12-09+at+9.20.51+AM.png)
[photo from Urban Bird Collective Website]
In a recent article for the Star Tribune, Bob Timmons details how men of color in northern Minnesota are finding solace and solidarity in the outdoors: “the meetup has been a sounding board, a time to share creativity or family pursuits. But time, too, to vent their outrage and their concerns about social injustices at home or anywhere.” In sharing natural spaces and activities like birding, members of this group—young and old, outdoors enthusiasts and newcomers—have discovered resilience, possibility, and belonging.
For this month’s blog, we dive into what these three words can mean for us: how does one find resilience, possibility, and belonging in the outdoors? How, especially, do people who have historically been excluded from outdoor activities and spaces find these values? For that, we look to Sam DeJarnett, a wildlife management professional and avid birder based in Portland, Oregon. DeJarnett hosts the Always Be Birdin’ podcast, where, in the second episode, “Who Is Fostering and Who Is Failing BIPOC In Nature?” she explains how her passion for birding—and for wildlife in general—has been constantly challenged and questioned based on the simple fact that she is a woman of color. DeJarnett also poses four questions, to herself and to her audience, that explore how people of color engage with the outdoors, often in spite of white supremacy, racism, and settler-colonial cultures. And who better to speak to the experience of BIPOC outdoors enthusiasts than members of the Urban Bird Collective?
Founded in 2018, the Urban Bird Collective supports birdwatchers of all abilities in leading walks in metro area neighborhoods. The collective works to create safe and welcoming spaces for all communities—especially BIPOC and queer community members who have not historically been welcomed or allowed access to such spaces—to come out and explore birding and the outdoors. We invited Urban Bird Collective members (including our very own Maggie Lorenz!) to share their thoughts on Sam DeJarnett’s questions for BIPOC birders. Read below as Maggie, Monica Bryand, Loreen Lee, and Melissa Michener discuss their perspectives, and take part in the conversation during our Dec. 26th Birding While BIPOC event. (Register here: https://bit.ly/2VV6XWs.)
Who or what fueled your interest in nature?
Melissa
Growing up my family always took advantage of outdoor opportunities because they were low cost options to entertain a big family. Some of my favorite memories were hiking after Christmas Day, camping trips to Lake Tahoe, winter trips to Big Bear mountains. Although we were not rich in funds, we were rich with adventure. Growing up in California, it would be hard not to admire the different landscapes that that state has to offer.
Loreen
I had the joy of my parents taking my sister and me on lots of tent camping road trips when we were growing up. We visited many regional, state and national parks in my home state of California and also ventured out to the Southwest and Pacific Northwest regions of the United States. Because of these experiences, I became fascinated with plants, animals, rocks and much more. I'm deeply grateful to my father and mother for planting a seed in me that would grow into a passion for nature and for being in the right relationship with our environment.
Maggie
I have always been passionate about nature and the environment. Some of my fondest memories in childhood were times I was close to nature — once in elementary school my class planted trees and it was more exciting to me, and more memorable, than any field trip. I also vividly remember my persistence with my parents to get me a subscription to get those Wildlife Fact Files and I anxiously awaited getting them every month. My favorite trips as a family when I was young were to Pipestone National Monument and Battle Creek Park. The natural wonders and the stories that connected me to my culture as a Dakota person were really significant.
Monica
As a kid I grew up being outside all day and basically only went in to eat. I grew up in Saint Paul and lived next to what I thought was a forest, only to come back as an adult and see that it was a hillside that was a little wooded. Either way, I loved it and loved the freedom of outside. The other thing I enjoyed as a kid was summer camps: some were day camps and other times I would spend a week or two away in the woods. Later in life I just became more concerned for the environment and animals in general. I didn’t start birding until I was in my late 30’s and now it’s all I think about.
Who or what discouraged and/or challenged your interests in nature?
Melissa
I moved to Minnesota at 18 years old to attend Hamline University. Moving to a state with different landscapes and weather posed its own challenges. However, I joined the outdoor recreation club and took a camping trip to Duluth. New to the natural environment of Minnesota, I was nervous. Also, I didn't have the nicest or newest equipment so creates another barrier in being able to fully participate in nature.
Loreen
In my K-12 education, there wasn't a lot of encouragement from teachers or counselors for girls or people of color like me to pursue careers in the sciences. Even though I loved learning about the natural world, I didn't necessarily view myself becoming something like a biologist, because I thought I didn't have the chops to pursue that field. Later, as a young adult, I lived in Los Angeles for several years. I loved hiking all the different trails and sometimes would go to group hikes. I often felt out of place in these gatherings, because I'd show up and it would be mostly white people. When I got into birding 3 or 4 years ago, I encountered a similar situation. Whenever I would be out bird watching and I'd run into other people also bird watching, it was usually white folks.
Maggie
I have never been discouraged from my connection to the natural world. Sometimes people from my community would say things like "why are you doing that white people stuff" if I would go to a trash clean up at a park or volunteer at things like that. But it never discouraged me. And I understand it, the world of environmentalism for a long time has been dominated by white folks and a lot of people of color don't feel like it is a space for them. As American Indians though, one of the stereotypes we have is that we are deeply connected to nature, which is both true and untrue. As a society we held on to that connection for longer than some other societies, but we are all part of the natural world, we are not apart from it. It's not something we observe from the outside, but something we belong to, and I think Native people have held onto that understanding a bit longer than some other communities.
Monica
I think that working on social justice issues lead to environmental justice issues and protecting the environment. I was fortunate to work and put my volunteer time into making a difference on many fronts. The people that I met are what inspired me to continue and made the “work” fun and exciting.
On a personal note, being a women and women of color, I always had to think about safety when I was going out in the woods or a park by myself. I hate that feeling and sometimes it keeps me from going out alone and other times I go but with a greater sense of awareness about my surroundings.
How did each of these experiences make you feel?
Melissa
All my fears about adventuring in a new state were completely unfounded upon arriving in Duluth. The leaves were at leave, Lake Superior was glistening and so vast. We spent the afternoon and evening at Hawk Ridge Observatory to learn about bird banding and got to see a saw-whet owl. Joining a community of people who share similar interests or passions empowered and inspired me to explore more and launched my intrigue and love for Minnesota.
Loreen
Looking back on these different experiences, I think the overarching theme is I was made to feel small or I was made to feel invisible.
Monica
Very vulnerable :(
Why do people of color so often face discouragement when it comes to careers, passions, even interactions in nature?
Melissa
Wow, great question. I think that the first piece to acknowledge is that many times we don't see people of color in these positions. Without leaders and mentors, it is hard to imagine doing that particular career or even knowing how to travel down that career path. Many times these positions aren't the highest paying jobs and are highly competitive. It takes work but it can be done. It also takes exposure to these types of careers and passions to allow our young people to interact in positive ways. There are many new groups out there focused on building more spaces in nature for Black, Indigenous, People of Color (BIPOC) and it has been a beautiful thing to be a part of.
Loreen
I've been engaged in social justice and DEI work since the early 2000s. And so I do tend to think a lot about race (and other aspects of identity) and contemplate these questions on space-- who belongs, who doesn't belong, what does it mean to create spaces with intention where everyone is seen, heard and valued? I believe the challenges that BIPOC folks face when trying to take up space in nature are deeply rooted in our nation's history of white supremacy, settler-colonialism, the genocide of indigneous people and the enslavement of black people. Our country was founded on controlling and exploiting both the land and people of color. Fast forward to today... When you consider the high incidence of Black Birders being harassed by white people for just being outdoors, you can see it's about power and who has the 'right' to take up space.
Maggie
I think that white folks have this belief, whether conscious or subconscious, that the way white-governed environmentalism interacts with the natural world is the right way, or the best way, and any ways that fall outside of those standards are not acceptable. This plays out in the policies of parks and land management agencies and then punishes non-white communities who relate to the land or natural world differently. That makes it hard for people from those communities to want to step into those spaces in a formal way. For me as a Dakota person, I see the plants in some of our parks as medicine. From my perspective I might see a stand of chokecherries and think to myself, hey we have ceremony coming up, I will gather some of those chokecherries to make an offering or feed the people. But that isn't allowable in a lot of public spaces, so if I do gather those cherries, I am now seen as a troublemaker or even criminal for breaking the rules. So now, I am in a more formal position as the director of an environmental nonprofit, and while here in this role, I am trying to take these cultural perspectives to land managing agencies and see how we might change some of these policies or rules so that people feel more comfortable in these spaces; and feel they also belong and the way they relate to nature is also honored. We can do that while also honoring our responsibility to provide high quality habitat for our non-human relatives by not overharvesting, for example. I think there is a way to do this, it will just take open minds from new folks coming into land management roles and I see that happening already, it is very encouraging.
Monica
As someone who has worked for justice on so many levels, people get discouraged when they don’t see people like them in spaces or in jobs. Not only don’t they see themselves represented but they also face discrimination or a sense of not belonging. For most non BIPOC folks they never think about who they will see or what discrimination they might face when going out in nature. BIPOC folks on the other hand can’t just enjoy spaces without holding thoughts in the back of their head about what they will face.
My hope is that my work with the Urban Bird Collective that helps to create safe space for BIPOC and the LGBT communities to be out in nature will change some of that. In addition to our group, we see other communities of color starting up their own hiking and outdoor groups to take back nature for all to enjoy.
* * *
We want to take a moment to clarify, for anyone who needs to hear it: you do not have to be an expert to be a birder! You don’t have to have a degree in zoology, expensive gear, or years of experience. As Sam DeJarnett reminds us, “All you need to go birding are your eyeballs and your ear-balls!” And here at Lower Phalen Creek Project, we are always finding moments in our work to pause and appreciate the presence of the Kiŋyaŋpi Oyate.
This past summer, we spent a late-summer morning weeding rows of corn at Dream of Wild Health’s farm in Hugo. As a light drizzle let up and low grey clouds drifted away, a small flock of sandhill cranes swept down onto the mowed grass between the long rows of corn and a small pond near the road. We sat in the dirt and watched red crowns bob atop long necks and slender beaks as the cranes poked about in the tallgrass. As quickly as they arrived, they were gone, swooping off farther afield.
More to the point, we cannot write an entire blog post on the topic of birding without mentioning the presence of birds near and dear to us. The Kiŋyaŋpi Oyate—our winged relatives—are equal and distinct beings in our universe. Dakota people, and many human communities throughout history, have had longstanding and meaningful connections to these relatives. One such relative, Waŋbdi (eagle) holds a particularly special place in Dakota culture. Waŋbdi is a messenger and a brave and powerful presence in our lives. It is no coincidence that the acts of genocide committed against Dakota people corresponded with the decimation of American bald eagles. It is also made all the more meaningful that as we have reclaimed sacred sites like Wakáŋ Tipi, we have seen eagles return to Dakota homelands. Walking along the Mississippi River Gorge, part of the Mississippi Flyway and the Twin Cities Important Bird Area, it is now common to see eagles soaring high above the river. Near Wakáŋ Tipi itself, eagles circle the ancestral burial mounds on the bluff above, and, improbably, an eagle’s nest sits perched high up in an aged cottonwood, keeping watch over the land and the water.
