By Edward Henderson | California Black Media
For generations, Black Americans have been written out of the story of the outdoors, say Black nature enthusiasts and leaders of Black conservation and environmental organizations.
They point out: It’s as if hiking trails, fishing lines, campsites, and open skies were someone else’s inheritance.
That absence from official documents and cultural narratives has shaped not only public perception, but policy, access, and confidence. Yet the truth is far richer: Black people have always cultivated deep relationships with land, water, and wildlife.
“So often, the story of Black people is told through a lens of pain and peril,” Rue Mapp, founder and CEO of Outdoor Afro said. “But Black people have long traditions of fishing, hunting, camping, gardening — even in the worst of times.”
Across California, Black-led organizations are reclaiming spaces long coded as “other people’s” outdoors. Through hiking clubs, stewardship programs, and career pathways in public land management, groups like Outdoor Afro and Black Girls Hike are not asking for permission to belong. They’re restoring what has always been theirs: a deep, generational connection to nature, rooted in joy, responsibility, and leadership. At the same time, the state is opening pathways to careers in public lands and actively informing the public about access, helping ensure that these spaces are welcoming and inclusive for all Californians.
That shared vision was on full display during a recent Black History Month webinar hosted by the California Natural Resources Agency (CNRA), which brought together organizers, advocates, and public servants working to expand access to public lands while honoring the legacy of Black environmental leadership.
The conversation highlighted not only the barriers Black communities have faced, but the enduring traditions — and future possibilities — rooted in reconnecting with the outdoors.
Outdoor Afro: Reconnecting What Was Never Lost
For Mapp of Outdoor Afro, the work begins with rejecting deficit-based narratives about Black people in nature altogether.
Founded nearly two decades ago, Outdoor Afro has become a national force by doing something deceptively simple: creating welcoming, well-organized outdoor experiences led by trusted community members. Mapp is quick to clarify that Outdoor Afro did not invent Black people’s relationship to nature.
“We’re just here as a reconnector,” she said. “When people are welcomed back into public lands through experiences that are respectful and rooted in shared responsibility, something beautiful happens.”
That beauty, Mapp explained, shows up in growing confidence, families returning again and again, and skills passed down across generations — just as her own father passed them down to her. For Mapp, stewardship is inseparable from joy.
“Our public lands need everybody’s hands on deck,” she said. “These places aren’t just scenery. They’re places of responsibility.”
Black Girls Hike: From Baltimore to California Trails
Black Girls Hike, founded in Baltimore, Maryland, has become another powerful example of how community-led outdoor spaces can travel — and thrive — far beyond their origins. What began as a local effort to create safe, affirming hiking spaces for Black women has grown into a movement with national reach, including a strong and active presence across California.
Through regular meetups, social media storytelling, and grassroots organizing, Black Girls Hike chapters and informal groups have emerged throughout the state, drawing Black women into parks, trails, and coastal spaces where they have often felt unseen or unwelcome.
“We’re all about representation,” said Asia B., a leader with Black Girls Hike, during the webinar. “The more someone sees themselves, the more likely they are to show up, keep coming back, and invite others with them.”
California-based participants connect through Instagram, newsletters, and in-person hikes that emphasize wellness, safety, and community over performance. For many, Black Girls Hike offers a first step into outdoor recreation — and a reminder that nature is not a luxury, but a birthright.
Consistency, Asia noted, has been key. “Every week, there’s something going on. Different ways to engage. Different ways to stay connected.”
Building Pathways, Not Just Parks
Access to nature doesn’t stop at the trailhead. Brandon Littlejohn, chief of talent acquisition for California State Parks, is working to ensure Black Californians are not only visitors in public lands — but leaders and decision-makers shaping their future.
“Inclusive workforce builds trust,” Littlejohn said. “When visitors see staff and leaders who look like them, who understand the culture, the language, and the history, it sends a clear message: you’re welcome here.”
Littlejohn helped build California’s first state government career center, designed to demystify the hiring process and open pathways into public service careers that have historically been difficult to access without insider knowledge.
“State careers are great careers,” he said. “But they’ve been hard to understand. The career center exists to make these jobs accessible to the full breadth of California’s talent.”
For Littlejohn, representation isn’t symbolic — it’s operational. Diverse teams influence how history is interpreted, how communities are engaged, and how land is stewarded. And during Black History Month, he emphasized that public lands like Colonel Allensworth State Historic Park stand as living reminders of Black self-determination and environmental legacy.
Securing a Land Trust
The 40 Acre Conservation League, recognized as California’s first Black-led land trust, has acquired more than 650 acres of forest in the Sierra Nevada near Lake Tahoe, with financial backing from state conservation programs. The organization, founded by Jade Stevens, received a $2.7 million grant from the California Wildlife Conservation Board, along with additional public funding to support land protection, trail development and future recreational access. Leaders say the long-term goal is to expand outdoor opportunities, particularly for communities that have historically faced barriers to accessing public lands.
Creating a Legacy
Together, these leaders are reframing what it means for Black communities to be outdoors — not as guests, but as inheritors, caretakers, and architects of the future.
When confidence grows on a trail, Mapp noted, it doesn’t stay there.
“It carries over into your family life, your work life, your community,” she said. “That kind of transformation is durable.”
