I didn’t grow up in an “outdoorsy” family. But as an adult, camping and hiking have been a mainstay in my marriage, eventually becoming a family affair. Our firstborn was 7 months old when he went on his first camping trip — my husband was the only one who slept well that weekend. Now, as a family of five, we camp up and down the West Coast in a 1986 Volkswagen Vanagon. The kids have been earning national park junior ranger badges since they were toddlers.
When we camp, it’s not uncommon for us to be the only Asian family (or family of color, for that matter) in the campground. A 2021 Kampgrounds of America report found that Asians/Pacific Islanders (API) accounted for only 7% of active camper households in North America, a figure that has stayed between 5-7% since 2014. On the other hand, the percentages of Hispanic/Latinx and Black households have steadily increased since 2012, accounting for 13% and 12%, respectively.
Groups like Outdoor Asian recognize this disparity and are working to build a community of API in the outdoors. (Likewise, there’s Outdoor Afro, which seeks to celebrate and inspire Black connections and leadership in nature.) Outdoor Asian also aims to lift up stories and histories within the API community to “reflect on our ever-changing relationship to ecology and nature.” Maybe that means recognizing the time and leisure that our generation has to enjoy the outdoors that our parents did not have. Or the need to fight against issues, like climate change, that the older generation did not understand.
This “ever-changing relationship” resonated with me as the Mochi team began brainstorming for this issue’s theme of environment. My parents didn’t take my sister and me hiking or camping growing up, but my dad always had a reverence for nature and its relationship with people. Our backyard was a maze of vegetable beds and fruit trees — nature’s market of apricots, plums, and persimmons. My dad taught me that worms were our friends. My grandma also was a gardener and cultivated rows of Chinese long beans, bitter melon, and bok choy. I later learned that she’d collect urine from my dad and his siblings to use as fertilizer.
These days, being an environmentalist holds a certain connotation, but we all don’t have to fit a specific mold. For me, spending time outdoors has given me a greater awareness and appreciation for environmentalism, even if this doesn’t impact every decision I make. Our parents and grandparents might not have been hiking each weekend or protesting deforestation, but maybe they’ve been embracing eco-friendly practices or have an understated relationship with nature.
Many of our immigrant parents have been incorporating eco-friendly habits before this was trendy, as Sarah Jinee Park highlights in her article. Some of these practices have shaped environmentalism for the current generation, as we see in Joan King’s interview with Rosie Tran of @kaleintheclouds about choosing sustainable products, snacks, and — most importantly — a lifestyle that prioritizes self-care; or Lily Fuller’s article about adopting a plant-based lifestyle as a Korean American.
Also, the idea of “environment” doesn’t have to be about flora and fauna. It may be your workplace or favorite neighborhood bar. Or your idea of environment might be your ethnic enclave — it’s all that surrounds you that influences you and makes up who you are. Sadly, many of these communities are being threatened by gentrification, development, and anti-Asian hate, which Katie Liu describes in her article about the importance of Chinatowns and efforts to save them.
As you read these articles, let us know what environment, sustainability, and being eco-friendly mean to you as an Asian American. Also, we have exciting plans for 2023 — subscribe to our newsletter so you don’t miss out!
Images credit: Melody Ip
