Wilderness Magazine
|
|
2006-2006 Issue Denver youngsters are getting a taste of the wild--and they like it. Read this article at wilderness.org At the base of Squaretop Mountain, on the top of Guanella Pass in central Colorado, Toni Metcalf is about to learn her first lesson in wilderness ethics. The petite, energetic 17-year-old is preparing to climb her first 13,000-foot peak, and she has just thrown a piece of trash into a meadow full of wildflowers. "Go get it," says Michael Richardson, 52, program director of the James P. Beckwourth Outdoor Education Center, a peer mentoring and education program that takes Denver youth on wilderness adventures. Toni looks at him like he's crazy. "For real?" Richardson's been joking all morning, but he's serious now. He explains that discarded trash can harm wild animals and disrupt the ecosystem. "Go get it," he repeats. Toni pouts and heads down an embankment to search through the riot of plains paintbrush and alpine buttercups. When nine-year-old Alice Cordova-Potter follows to help, Richardson stops her. "Toni's going to do this on her own," he says. Richardson has led the Beckwourth youth program since its inception in 1998, and this tough-love approach is part of the lesson he teaches Denver's youth: respect, responsibility, leadership, and love of the outdoors. Through adventures like today's climb, the program-free to children aged 8 to 18-teaches urban kids to appreciate wilderness and explore their capacities as individuals and as members of a team. The group offers more than 35 trips year-round on public lands in Colorado and nearby states-hikes, overnight camping trips, snowshoeing, and stewardship projects such as reforestation, trail-building, and habitat restoration. Kids find the group through word of mouth, flyers at schools, and relationships with social services agencies. "Newbies" like Toni and Alice first join Richardson on shorter day hikes. Eventually, they can win spots on more difficult climbs and multi-day "gravy" trips to places like Grand Teton National Park and the Mt. Zirkel Wilderness. At age 13, regular participants become eligible to help Richardson as "youth leaders." The Center also helps with college applications and summer jobs; three of Beckwourth's graduates are now in college pursuing environment-related degrees. "If they like the outdoors, there's no end to what Beckwourth Mountain Club will do for them," says Beckwourth President and CEO Cheryl Armstrong. The Club found its inspiration in James P. Beckwourth, a 19th-century mountain man and explorer-proof that, as Armstrong puts it, "people of color have been doing these things all along." Richardson, the first African-American to ascend all 54 of Colorado's 14,000-foot peaks, is equally impressive as an outdoor role model--fit, clean-cut and well-spoken, with a soft baritone and a hard edge of determination. "Most of these kids watch TV, they see people mountain climbing and rock climbing, and who do they see?" Armstrong asks. "I hear from kids and adults all the time, 'Only white people do that.' When they come out and see a man who looks like Michael taking them out to go hiking, they change their minds." Richardson understands these apprehensions from personal experience. One of seven children of an army staff sergeant and a homemaker who worked part-time jobs to make ends meet, he moved from Philadelphia to Colorado in 1976. Soon after arriving, he followed his brother and a group of friends up 14,443-foot Mt. Elbert, the state's highest peak. Poorly equipped and unfamiliar with alpine environments, he lagged far behind, and, buffeted by the howling summit winds, made the final ascent on his hands and knees. "I now realize I wasn't in danger. It was an easy mountain to climb, no big deal," he says. "But coming from Philadelphia, it was a huge deal-sleeping at timberline and falling so far behind. I know what it's like to be the weakest one in the group." He brings that empathy and understanding to his relationships with the Beckwourth kids. Since 1998, more than 600 participants have come through the program, with 165 regular members. Of those, 79 percent are African American, 12 percent are Latino, 5 percent are biracial, 2 percent are Native American and 2 percent are white. Almost half are girls. Nearly 90 percent come from single-parent households, and 48 percent have family incomes at or below the federal poverty level. The rest come from middle- and upper-middle class families. "The outdoor experience is a great equalizer," says Armstrong. "Who is going to be successful on that climb is not going to be dependent on who has the best equipment, who has the most money." This blurring of class distinctions is evident on Squaretop Mountain, where Toni and Alice hike side by side up the alpine tundra. Toni is a disarmingly cheerful but troubled foster child from rural Arkansas; Alice is the precocious daughter of an attorney and president of the Denver chapter of the National Black MBA Association. As they climb, each child in the group takes turns leading. During a food break, Toni, taking Richardson's "leave no trace" lesson to heart, chases after a tissue that escaped from another hiker's backpack. Alice bends down to smell a wildflower. "I'm warm, I feel good, I can't say I'm snug, but at least I don't hurt all over," she says. "I could just stand here all day and look at the scenery." They wind their way towards the summit ridge, views of 14,000-foot peaks in every direction and a mountain lake far below. The girls are astonished, the way kids are when everything is new and every achievement uncertain. With clouds gathering, Richardson turns the group around before the summit, and Toni and Alice scramble up to an outcropping for one last view. "I thought I'd be on my hands and knees. I was always scared to come up here," Toni says. "How'd these rocks get here? God put 'em there?"
OTHER PROGRAMS Programs like the Beckwourth Center's offer urban youth their first glimpses of stars and galaxies undimmed by the city glare and their first opportunities to hear the silence of the natural world. Across the country, a number of innovative programs connect urban and minority youth to wilderness and outdoor recreation. Examples include: In Washington, D.C., George Washington Carver Outdoor School (www.gwcods.org) leads day trips, weekend camping trips, and summer camps for kids aged 7-17. The school adapts environmental teaching curricula to make subjects more relevant to urban youth. In New Mexico, the Santa Fe Mountain Center (www.sf-mc.com) provides outdoor adventure-based programs for at-risk and minority youth. The organization's Native American program works with 19 pueblos and two tribal nations in New Mexico to integrate outdoor education with the unique traditions of Native American communities. The program is managed by Native American staff. The Student Conservation Association's National Urban & Diversity Program (www.thesca.org/urban.cfm), located in Arlington, Oakland, Seattle, and Pittsburgh offers programs for middle and high school youth, including environmental education, outdoor activities, and environmental stewardship projects. The group encourages minority youth to pursue careers in natural resources. One of the biggest barriers to introducing urban youths to wilderness is resistance from family and guardians, who may be unfamiliar with the outdoors. The California State Parks Foundation sponsors the FamCamp program (www.calparks.org) to introduce camping and outdoor recreation to families who would otherwise not have the opportunity. END |