Am I “Outdoorsy” Enough?
By Stephanie Tsui
Growing up in suburban New Jersey, I never felt connected to nature like the people I saw in National Geographic magazines. Sure, I went on occasional hikes, but the majority of the green spaces in my neighborhood were made up of carefully manicured lawns. When I asked my family members to go hiking, I was usually met with resistance. What is there to see? The trails are so far away. There could be bears! They would rather spend a day in New York City or an air-conditioned shopping mall.
Despite my lack of outdoor adventuring experience, I was determined to study environmental science in college. When I started at UC Davis, I was blown away by the stories from my peers detailing days-long backpacking trips and lists of state and national parks they’ve hiked. At that point, I had only ever been to a few state parks. Impostor syndrome started creeping in. Even if they didn’t share the same major, they were outdoorsy—and I was not. So how could I call myself an environmentalist?
When you search for the definition of “outdoorsy,” you’ll see a definition such as:
Outdoorsy (adj.): relating to, characteristic of, or appropriate for the outdoors; e.g. “He has remodeled 60 of the stores, making them more outdoorsy, with more camping and fishing gear hanging on the walls.” – Christopher Palmeri
Even in the example sentence, it’s implied that people who are outdoorsy spend a significant portion of their time recreating outside. And in a sense, that’s not an incorrect definition. But my understanding of this word quickly changed during one of my environmental policy classes.
In this class, we discussed the different governance systems involved in public lands management and some key cases that explain how state and national parks are managed. One case especially stood out to me. We were discussing the historic national park visitor distribution data. According to the 2010 US Census data, 16% of respondents were Hispanic. Yet the Visitor Services Project—a National Park Service initiative to collect data from park visitors such as demographics—found that only 7% national park visitors identified as Hispanic. When comparing data on race, researchers found that 95% of national park visitors were White, even though they made up 72% of the US population in 2010. Black people made up 13% of the population, but only represented 1% of the national park visitors. When you split up national parks by regions (e.g. Midwest, Northeast) or designation (e.g. historic site, seashore), in many cases more than 95% of visitors were White.
These results are not by chance. In fact, researchers have developed multiple hypotheses to explain the racial and ethnic disparity in national park visitation: the marginality hypothesis, subcultural hypothesis, assimilation theory, and discrimination hypothesis.
The marginality hypothesis states that historical discrimination in social, political, and economic ways affects non-White visitation rates. This can be represented by limited access to transportation or unaffordable costs and fees for a trip to a national park. The subcultural hypothesis suggests that cultural differences, rather than socioeconomic factors, affect visitation demographics. For example, one of my classmates from China shared that his family’s favorite place to go to in national parks is the visitor’s center. Yet most of my White friends would skip over the center and opt for the trails. By hiring staff members of diverse backgrounds to be involved in the park’s management, the park can create a more inclusive environment for non-Western visitors. Assimilation theory states that national park use reflects the dominant, White middle-class’s values. This points at the lack of diverse representation and perspectives on park management teams. The final hypothesis is the discrimination hypothesis. This hypothesis suggests that perceived, actual, or institutional discrimination affects visitation demographics. In a recent and viral example of park discrimination, Christian Cooper, a Black bird-watcher, was verbally harassed by Amy Cooper, a White woman, after he asked her to follow the park’s rules and leash her dog. She responded with anger and hostility and called 911. She saw the color of his skin and felt that he didn’t belong, even though she was the one breaking the rules. This is only one of many examples of aggression against Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC) in parks; the majority of instances are not reported.
Researchers have debated which hypothesis drives the disproportionate national park visitation rates. But the truth is that visitation patterns vary by location and each hypothesis plays a role in these dynamics. In a recent paper by Xiao et al. (2018), they found that factors related to the marginality hypothesis affect Black and White visitation rates, but not Hispanic. Yet subcultural and discriminatory factors affect all three groups.
I had a lightbulb moment during this class discussion. When I thought back to the National Geographic magazines I read as a child, I couldn’t remember any BIPOC stories on nature. (I’m sure they existed, but who’s voice was dominant?) It took more than three years of college courses in environmental science to realize I grew up with this warped perception. For my family, this meant that they share a different relationship with nature from the Western perspective—and that’s okay.
Since graduating college, I’ve learned about many advocacy groups trying to make the outdoors more inclusive. In central California, the Ventana Wilderness Alliance runs a Youth in Wilderness program that offers free day-hikes or overnight backpacking trips for local youths who may not have had the chance to experience nature themselves. Unlikely Hikers and Melanin Base Camp are anti-racist, size-inclusive, and LGBTQIA+-friendly outdoor groups that also provide a space for people to share their stories. Outdoor Afro is a similar organization that supports Black people in particular. Disabled Hikers provides accessible hiking guides for disabled and other marginalized people. NativesOutdoors is an indigenous-owned outdoor apparel and media company that provides advisory and consulting services to the outdoor industry.
This is only a short list of groups to follow. But as we open the space for marginalized groups to share their experiences, I hope we can all freely enjoy nature without worrying about fitting into the definition of “outdoorsy.”
Sources
Armus, Teo. “White woman ‘terminated’ from job after calling police on black birdwatcher who asked her to leash her dog, company says.” The Washington Post. 27 May 2020. https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2020/05/26/amy-cooper-central-park/. Accessed 8 Sept. 2020.
“Outdoorsy.” Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/outdoorsy. Accessed 7 Sep. 2020.
Rott, Nathan. “Don’t Care About National Parks? The Park Service Needs You To.” National Public Radio Special Series: National Park Service Centennial. 9 Mar. 2016. https://www.npr.org/2016/03/09/463851006/dont-care-about-national-parks-the-park-service-needs-you-to. Accessed 8 Sept. 2020.
Vaske, J. J. and K. M. Lyon. “Linking the 2010 Census to National Park Visitors.” Natural Resource Technical Report NPS/WASO/NRTR—2014/880, 2014. Accessed 8 Sept. 2020.
Hyperlinked Resources
Ventana Wilderness Alliance - Youth in Wilderness program: https://www.ventanawild.org/youth/youth-in-wilderness
Unlikely Hikers: https://jennybruso.com/unlikelyhikers/
Melanin Base Camp: https://www.melaninbasecamp.com/
Outdoor Afro: https://outdoorafro.com/
Disabled Hikers: https://disabledhikers.com/
NativesOutdoors: https://natives-outdoors.com/