Camping is not high on the list of things to do for most Black folks. This is not news, but there was a recent article about it that garnered some attention and feedback.
It was very interesting. Check out the link below.
http://dish.andrewsullivan.com/2013/09/12/the-great-white-outdoors-ctd-2/
I was reminded of an annual camping field trip that many of the students in Sacramento schools participated in.
The kids' loved it.
White kids. Black kids. Hispanic kids.
They all loved it and were so excited about going.
As the kids boarded the buses on the day of the trip, I gave them a hearty wave as they left for the campgrounds about forty miles away.
I had absolutely no desire to see it.
Side note - Likewise, I had no desire to spend the night at the zoo with another group of kids. I stayed with them through dinner, then again said my goodbyes.
Sleeping with the critters?
No thanks.
Now, getting back to camping story . . .
I did end up driving to the campground on my last year at this school.
Honestly, I was shamed in to going.
If the principal of the schools visited his/her kids while they were camping, the camp would pay the fee for a student to attend the next year. This was a big deal because the school/kids had to pay a fee, which was pretty steep for many of our families.
This would be my first trip in my third year as principal.
So, feeling the pressure, I went.
With each passing mile, I knew the chances of seeing folks who looked like me was getting slimmer and slimmer. That image was unsettling.
Remember, I was raised in the segregated South where images of ugly stuff happening to folks who ventured out of their "assigned" areas could result in bad things happening.
Right or wrong, that's what I was thinking.
So . . .
When I was about five miles or so from the campground, the route called for me to turn off the main road, onto two-lane winding roads.
Although it was luscious green and very scenic, the only thing I was thinking about was how dark it must be at night, as there were no street lights, and the homes and businesses were sparsely scattered throughout. You could drive a while before seeing any people/critters, etc.
After trying unsuccessfully to push those negative thoughts to the back of my mind, I made it to the camp. My kids were tickled pink to see me, and my visit guaranteed another student would be able to go next year.
Did I ever consider going back?
No.
Would I consider camping in the future?
Probably not.
Is it because I'm Black?
Maybe.
Will the kids of color who experienced this want to do it again?
Statistics says no.
If they don't, will it be because they're Black/Hispanic?
Who knows?
Remember when Oprah and Gayle went camping to shed light on this absence of colored folks in the national parks?
Did they change any minds?
If Oprah can't get us to be one with nature, who can?
It was very interesting. Check out the link below.
http://dish.andrewsullivan.com/2013/09/12/the-great-white-outdoors-ctd-2/
I was reminded of an annual camping field trip that many of the students in Sacramento schools participated in.
The kids' loved it.
White kids. Black kids. Hispanic kids.
They all loved it and were so excited about going.
As the kids boarded the buses on the day of the trip, I gave them a hearty wave as they left for the campgrounds about forty miles away.
I had absolutely no desire to see it.
Side note - Likewise, I had no desire to spend the night at the zoo with another group of kids. I stayed with them through dinner, then again said my goodbyes.
Sleeping with the critters?
No thanks.
Now, getting back to camping story . . .
I did end up driving to the campground on my last year at this school.
Honestly, I was shamed in to going.
If the principal of the schools visited his/her kids while they were camping, the camp would pay the fee for a student to attend the next year. This was a big deal because the school/kids had to pay a fee, which was pretty steep for many of our families.
This would be my first trip in my third year as principal.
So, feeling the pressure, I went.
With each passing mile, I knew the chances of seeing folks who looked like me was getting slimmer and slimmer. That image was unsettling.
Remember, I was raised in the segregated South where images of ugly stuff happening to folks who ventured out of their "assigned" areas could result in bad things happening.
Right or wrong, that's what I was thinking.
So . . .
When I was about five miles or so from the campground, the route called for me to turn off the main road, onto two-lane winding roads.
Although it was luscious green and very scenic, the only thing I was thinking about was how dark it must be at night, as there were no street lights, and the homes and businesses were sparsely scattered throughout. You could drive a while before seeing any people/critters, etc.
After trying unsuccessfully to push those negative thoughts to the back of my mind, I made it to the camp. My kids were tickled pink to see me, and my visit guaranteed another student would be able to go next year.
Did I ever consider going back?
No.
Would I consider camping in the future?
Probably not.
Is it because I'm Black?
Maybe.
Will the kids of color who experienced this want to do it again?
Statistics says no.
If they don't, will it be because they're Black/Hispanic?
Who knows?
Remember when Oprah and Gayle went camping to shed light on this absence of colored folks in the national parks?
Did they change any minds?
If Oprah can't get us to be one with nature, who can?
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