My feet move one in front of the other up the steep hill while the sun beats down on my back, I tell myself that the view is worth it. I tilt my head up, my dad is off the path rubbing his fingers together, as if he is creating a little fire. He walks over to me and drops little white flowers that crumble to the touch.
“Buckwheat.” He says.
“Like what Roa uses to make waffles?”
“Yup-it’s native to California, sprinkle it on the path, it will start growing.”
I rub my fingers together and turn my palm towards the ground spreading seeds of new growth across the Altadena mountains.
From a young age, I learned from my dad the power the natural environment has to take care of us when we learn not only how to nurture it, but how to live amongst it. We never had grass in our front yard, instead my parents planted native species like white sage, manzanita, and buckwheat. While we tended to these plants through watering and trimming at times, it was beautiful to see how much they would flourish when we let the plants live naturally. Our yard was filled with pollinators, birds, and critters with life in every corner. It became our own wildlife home.
I was lucky enough to attend Odyssey Charter School K-8th grade where my father was my gardening teacher. These lessons of reciprocity, openness, and gratitude with nature he taught me at home came with me to school and were shared with my classmates. I knew from a young age that the natural environment is the best form of education.
One of my favorite past times growing up in Altadena was to go on walks around the neighborhood. I knew if I went at dawn, I was likely to see coyotes. I never felt afraid, instead I was amazed that we lived amongst such beautiful wildlife. I observed their way of life. It was beautiful to see their eyes meet mine, before they continued on their journey.
While I felt separated from the hustle and bustle of LA city life up in these San Gabriel Hills-the urban life was still built into the Altadena ecosystem. Every morning I used to step out on my deck and see Downtown LA past the trees. This reminded me of the struggle of the urban and wildlife interface when I would drive past a coyote hit by a car, or trash scattered across the Echo Mountain trail. It was a reminder of how fragile our surrounding wildlife neighbors were-and how dominant our urban way of life could be.
Before I went back to school after winter break, My parents and I took a hike in the San Gabriel Mountains, little did I know this would be the last hike before the fires. Although it was January, I hiked in a T-shirt and shorts and the sun beat down on my back; It was the peak of winter and this was one of the driest and hottest hikes of the season. As we weaved up the steep mountain my mom touched the dry native plants around us.
“It feels so hot and dry,” she said, “almost like a fire could break out.”
I nodded, knowing the likelihood of this happening. As I looked around the desert like mountains I pictured them in flames. It was painful to imagine the critters, deers, and coyotes running in fear. How would they escape their own home on fire? And still- it felt even more impossible to imagine a world where Altadena’s backyard was destroyed. How would our community survive without the gift of the San Gabriel Mountains just minutes away? I inhaled the scent of sage as I observed the view of the city below me. For the last 18 years of living in Altadena I always knew I had love and gratitude for the wildlife and urban city living in tandem. But this hike was the first time I realized that my home was not only the quaint house on Las Flores Dr, my home was the mountains, my hands in the soil on a Saturday morning, the streets shared with the coyotes and raccoons, the trails shared with the deers and snakes, the clean air shared with the humans and parrots. It was everything that surrounded us. Living in Altadena taught me how to speak the language of the native landscape. A language that remains within me-even when our town has been burned to ash-the mountains, although bare, are ready to birth life once again.
I’ve always enjoyed bridging the gaps between my interests. As a Communications major at UCSD - I decided to not only declare a Global Health Minor, but create my own Food Studies Minor as well-which encompasses sustainability, nutrition, and agriculture practices surrounding our food system. As the Media and Marketing Director of the Student Sustainability Collective, working at the Center of Student Involvement, and starting my own food and wellness account on social media I have found that I can bridge my passions of health, sustainability, food justice, and communication all together.
My dream while in school and my career is to make more people fall in love with planting seeds, tending the Earth, and receiving the gifts it gives us in return. I hope to work with children in schools educating them on food, nutrition, sustainability, and environmentalism, while also empowering them to make change through hands-on involvement.
Everybody should know how to grow a tomato from the ground up, to hike on a trail with confidence, and respect mother nature with the language of reciprocity. If offered this scholarship the academic and financial assistance would help me pursue these endeavors to the fullest extent. After losing my home in the Eaton fire, my only desire has been to invest into the community. This scholarship would be a gift to me, to give back to my school, Altadena, the world, and of course, mother nature. (999 words)
Add comment
Comments