Note: This essay is part of Our Big Backyard's "Community Voices" series. It was written by Kali Walker, a college student studying civil engineering.
When my family first moved to the Pacific Northwest a few summers ago, I often complained, “There’s nothing to do here.” The idea of hiking up a mountain felt foreign to me, and I dismissed the abundance of trees as mere scenery and overlooked their value.
I have previously lived in New York, Missouri and Mississippi. In those places, outdoor spaces were not as valued. As a result, little to no money was invested in creating or maintaining things like community gardens, creeks and trails.
Portland was a city that embraced nature instead of removing it. A large number of people in the community cared about preserving natural areas, addressing climate change and advancing climate justice. It took me a while to recognize that the difference between Portland and those other places was actually a positive thing.
When I said, “There’s nothing to do here,” I really meant I simply was not interested in experiencing something new. Coming from a military family, I frequently moved, and I was anything but happy about moving to Portland. I had become comfortable in one place, and moving meant stepping out of my comfort zone, again. I didn’t want change—I wanted comfort and stability.
Instead, my mom made me go on a hike.
Our first hike was the Cape Horn Loop Trail in Washougal. It wasn’t an easy introduction to hiking. The trail is nearly seven miles long and climbs 1,400 feet. I mostly remember it was extremely long, and that I didn’t like hiking.
Mom planned another hike and then another. One day, I went for a hike on my own. Slowly, I started going on family hikes and exploring trails alone while learning the history of the city and the importance of nature.
During my time of connecting with nature, my mom was diligently searching for youth programs that could help me find something I loved. That’s how Tappin Roots first came to my attention. I was at the Black Community Science Night at OMSI and, as usual that summer, I didn’t really want to be there. Just as we were about to leave, my mom spotted their table and encouraged me to check it out. In the end, though reluctantly, I left with my very first internship application to fill out.
Tappin Roots is an environmental internship program for Black- and Brown-identified high school students run by ELSO Inc. (Experience Life Science Outdoors). The goal of the program is to train and empower the next generation of environmental leaders and community leaders using storytelling, mentorship, career exploration, place-based learning and healing practices.
Soon I found out that I got accepted along with 19 other participants. My role was to work with kids, teaching them things like how to identify both native and invasive plants. When I started, I knew nothing. But I gained some knowledge after my training week with the staff at Tryon Creek State Park.
When it was time to step into my role as a counselor, I wasn’t confident. I felt I didn't know enough. Then my mom reminded me that everything is a learning moment: Even when you're teaching, you can learn a few more things you didn't know, no matter how experienced or knowledgeable you are.
After taking that into consideration, I went on a solo hike at Tryon. Throughout my walk I realized how much I really knew about nature. I could easily identify lemon balm by its round, bright-green leaves with ragged edges and its mild lemon scent. I could tell the difference between a western red cedar – with its reddish-brown bark and its flat needles that spread out like a fan – and the flat, dark green needles that grow in a spiral on the branch of a Douglas fir. I didn't need to look at my plant guide or use Google – it was just me using prior experience to connect with the nature that surrounded me.
I never would have expected these experiences to help me in a Zoom class.
In the summer of 2024, the year after my role as a counselor at Tryon Creek State Park, I joined another ELSO program. Studio Justice is an eight-week urban design workshop created to engage youth in the impact of climate change on the Black and Brown community and how we can design justice through a socially conscious lens. I applied and got accepted, which amplified my newfound interest in nature.
Our project focused on designing a vision for the future of Willamette Cove after its cleanup. Located along the Willamette River in Portland’s St. Johns neighborhood, Metro and the Port of Portland are working to address 70 years of industrial contamination. The goal is to restore the land, ensuring it becomes a safe environment for people, plants and animals once the cleanup is completed.
In this eight-week cohort, I learned the fundamentals of design, including lines, shapes and colors and how they influence our emotions and perceptions. I also explored different concepts like unity, which is the harmony of elements within a design; contrast, the use of opposing elements such as light or dark, large or small; and variety, adding different shapes, textures, sizes and colors to capture visual interest.
One aspect that personally interested me was understanding why sustainability should be prioritized in design. Sustainability became an important topic for me during this program due to its significant impact on both our planet and our future. Sustainable designs are long-lasting and durable. They also reduce the use of harmful materials and lower energy consumption, ultimately helping to preserve natural resources and to reduce our ecological footprint. While creating my project, I made sure to highlight the importance of sustainable building materials.
With this cohort I felt I had so much freedom with what I could create and I had so many ideas to implement into my design. I took the chance to challenge my imagination and creativity.
At first it was overwhelming. I didn't know where to start. How would I design something that I felt the community would benefit from? I soon realized that first I had to scale my project down. What did I want to see when I came to Willamette Cove? That sparked a train of thoughts and ideas. I envisioned walking a trail along the river, passing by a playground, watering the fruits and vegetables in a community garden, and making a stop at a resource center that provides assistance to the community.
After I generated some ideas for my project, I decided I wanted my project to revolve around inclusivity. How do I make Willamette Cove a place for everyone? If I want to design a space that everyone in the community can benefit from, I need to ask the community. So, I asked for feedback from the community members I knew, my family and friends. This inspired me to start laying out my ideas on paper and draw up my first draft. The playground, for instance, would include elements that kids and youth with disabilities could enjoy.
When I found out that doing designs like these could positively impact the community, I was really proud. It makes me feel good when my community feels good, and getting everyone involved is my favorite part. I decided right then that I loved helping create a sustainable future for my family and my community, educating the youth about nature, learning the value of nature, and adopting new principles and ethics.
I wanted to pursue this work long term. I started researching possible career options and told my parents about my passion to keep doing this work. I've connected with architects, engineers, city officials, nonprofit professionals and people who do similar work to what I was doing to set up interviews about their careers.
I applied for, and was accepted into, various internships and programs.
I couldn’t have expected this on that first hike. Over the two years I’ve lived here, my perspective shifted from being resistant to change to being open to new experiences and embracing the change. I have different motives and a different mindset. With everything that I've learned, I hope to inspire my peers to always be open to new opportunities and experiences because you truly don't know what will happen until you give something a try. I never took that saying seriously before, but it definitely is an important lesson to grasp.