Rooted in Nature: A Latina’s Journey to Outdoor Empowerment

When I think back to my childhood, some of my most cherished memories are of being outside. Running around with my dad’s animals, climbing the mulberry tree in our front yard, and making endless mud pies—there was never a moment I shied away from getting dirty. Being outside made me feel alive.

Camping was a big part of my upbringing. Every summer, I eagerly awaited our family camping trips, counting down the days until I could sleep in a tent, run wild with my cousins, and stay up late under the stars. Those trips became core memories, ones I will forever hold close to my heart. 

 As I’ve gotten older, I’ve grown even more grateful for those early experiences. They gave me the chance to connect with nature in a way that felt effortless, surrounded by loved ones. While life eventually slowed those family trips, my yearning to be outside never faded. 

Right after I graduated college, I embarked on my first solo camping trip—a journey that was made possible thanks to my family, who gifted me the funds as a graduation present. I camped my way home from Kansas to California, stopping at a Walmart along the way to stock up on gear I thought I’d need. I loaded up my cart, hit the road, and never looked back. That trip taught me so much about myself. Was I scared to be a Latina woman alone in the wilderness? Absolutely. But the pull to connect with nature was stronger than my fears. I found empowerment in being out there, relying on myself, and embracing the solitude of the outdoors. 

As I continued exploring, I became more aware of something that had always been present but never fully registered—Latinos were largely absent from the outdoor spaces I loved. I didn’t see people who looked like me, and I struggled to relate to the dominant narratives around outdoor recreation. That realization pushed me to ask bigger questions, and soon, I learned about the underrepresentation of BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color) communities in the outdoors. Since then, I’ve made it my mission to be part of the change. As someone from a marginalized community, I want others to know that they, too, deserve to take up space outside. Nature is for all of us. 

My hope is to inspire, empower, and support others in getting outside—to remind them that the outdoors is not only a place of adventure but also a place of healing, connection, and belonging. And just as nature gives so much to us, we owe it our care in return. Stewardship is an extension of gratitude, and I am endlessly grateful for the land, the lessons, and the ability to help others find their place in the outdoors.