Enjoying the Outdoors as a Woman of Color
What do you think of when you think of an outdoor enthusiast?
Probably a white, upper-middle-class cisgender male or female rocking REI gear. Absorbing the outdoors as a woman of color has been a unique experience; one that’s defied stereotypes.
Living in Portland, Oregon, I have taken advantage of what the Pacific Northwest has to offer; hiking, camping, snowboarding, kayaking, and skiing. With the city being close to mountains, beaches, rivers, and trails, it seems foolish and wasteful not to soak everything up in this nice little corner of the United States. There is quite literally an outdoor sport for every season and what was once a hidden gem has become a hot spot for outdoor enthusiasts and environmentalists.
In 2016, my husband and I visited his relatives near Lake Tahoe in Nevada. During that trip, his cousin introduced us to skiing, and for some reason, the sport stuck with us after that long weekend getaway. When skiing was first proposed, I remember thinking to myself, “skiing? Seriously? Isn’t that a hoity-toity sport?” To my surprise, I found it easier than snowboarding. On one of my excursions to Mt. Hood, something randomly hit me: the outdoors isn’t a diverse space, and it’s not just specific to sports that require expensive gear. Being a woman of color in a very white city, I am used to white, homogenous spaces. This, however, felt different.
Was I overthinking it? Was it because Portland is objectively one of the whitest cities in the United States? I had so many questions. I began doubting myself and chalking it up to ‘being all in my head’. Getting some one-on-one time with Mother Nature is not just exclusive to white people, I professed.
After some research, I discovered I wasn’t just imagining it. The outdoor industry advertises for a white audience because it is, by and large, a white-dominated field. I had stumbled upon multiple articles calling out the whiteness of it. Yet another industry that is shaped by and for white people. Being a woman of color, I am often the only minority in a group, which is something I’ve simply gotten used to. This, however, felt different. Absorbing the outdoors has been my escape from reality, especially since the 2016 election. So, when the lack of diversity in the outdoor community hit me, it only reminded me that it is hard to ignore race, even on a seemingly innocuous subject. This didn’t necessarily prevent me from enjoying the outdoors, but it was a buzzkill. Overall, though, it gave me some peace of mind. I was affirmed that I wasn’t just overthinking it. I learned that there is a whole community of outdoor enthusiasts who don’t fit the traditional mold. This only encouraged me to participate unapologetically.
The summer of 2017, I summited Mount. St. Helens in Washington with my husband for our first time. The euphoric rush we got when we reached the proverbial finish line was indescribable. I was easily the only brown woman on the whole mountain. The uniqueness of being a minority on the mountain combined with the physical achievement couldn’t be compared to anything else. By that fall, I had joined a body-positive hiking group that was tailored towards minorities. It only reaffirmed my views on outdoor whiteness and the importance of diversifying these kinds of spaces.
Going forward, I want to continue breaking stereotypes within the outdoor community. I want to continue taking up sports that have historically been predominately white (ahem, skiing!). While it’s great that more people of color are changing the narrative, it’s not just up to us. The onus falls on outdoor companies like REI, Patagonia, and others. Thankfully, we’re starting to see that as the Black Lives Matter movement reaches critical mass. Moving towards an anti-racist society requires institutions and companies to systemically make changes: hire and promote more Black and Brown employees; openly call out racism; and include more non-whites in ads (representation matters!). It’s a long trail towards justice and inclusivity, but I’m more than happy to continue hiking it.
Meg Connors
Healthcare worker by day, writer by night in rainy Portland. Lover of the outdoors and all things food related. Currently learning to embrace this new little thing called motherhood.