Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, November 28, 1994 TAG: 9412070033
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A7 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: JUSTIN ASKINS
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
However, a new thought struck me on my 20th or so visit to Yellowstone Park, the largest in the contiguous states and still a marvelously wild area. Yellowstone for me is not near any of the park roads, but two miles up Tower Creek, 3 1/2 miles up the Black Canyon of the Yellowstone (where this summer my wife and I encountered an enormous black bear), a mile up the Gardner River just before it narrows into a steep canyon. I always find excellent fishing if I travel far enough back, but more important, I put the hordes behind me, since almost all of them won't go farther than a quarter mile back in grizzly country. That solitude has always been Yellowstone's most attractive feature, and this year proved no different.
However, while I got my solitude, this year's visit brought another fear to my heart. As almost always happens in Yellowstone, there were no minorities on any of the trails. With the back-country trails so empty anyway, that statistic might seem meaningless. But as my wife and I later looked around in the jammed parking lots and dining areas, we found the same situation: Yellowstone attracts and employs very few blacks, Hispanics, Native Americans and Asians.
While the National Park Service doesn't keep statistics on the racial breakdown of tourists, the employment figures in Yellowstone are interesting. Out of 320 full-time employees, only six were minorities; out of 150 part-time employees, again only six were nonwhite. (The national figures are just under 20 percent.) Marsha Karle, Yellowstone chief of public affairs, admitted that attracting nonwhite workers was a problem, and stressed that Yellowstone was working hard to remedy it. The main concessionaire at the park, TW Services, has a little better percentage (6.1), but Jim McCaleb, executive director of operations, also noted the difficulty of attracting nonwhites.
My personal observations led me to conclude that the same inequities exist in most of the wilderness parks in this country. That would not be a problem if we had a healthy and much expanded wilderness system. However, wilderness areas are increasingly threatened in the national forests, and even the national parks are being dramatically influenced by all the things that are happening around and in them.
Paul Bryant, the former graduate dean at Radford University and a well-known nature writer, feels that eventually all the wild areas will disappear as their potential for development increases. I am not as pessimistic, but the lack of minorities in most of the national forests and the non-urban national parks may be of great concern.
Population experts tell us that by the year 2050 or so, the white majority in this country will disappear. That will be positive in many ways, possibly even leading to a truly multicultural government instead of the overwhelmingly white male monopoly that presently exists. But what about the wild places?
I perfectly understand that wilderness destruction in the United States started with the first white invaders, a process fueled by the present, unconscionably materialistic white majority. But this white majority also contains the key elements of the environmental movement. When the demographic shift occurs by midcentury, I wonder if minority legislators and their constituents will place a high priority on preserving the wild lands, especially since minorities don't work in and use these areas very much now. (Not surprisingly, minority environmental concerns - with the exception of Native Americans, who do have a tradition of reverence for wilderness - are mainly focused on urban problems like toxic waste sites and industrial air and water pollution.)
I don't know why minorities haven't taken to the back country. Perhaps it is simply cultural upbringing or accessibility, as several black professors mentioned. But it scares me to think that the wild places I love so much may disappear unless a dramatic change occurs in the mix of people who visit them.
Peter Lewis, president and founder of Apple Ridge Farm, an outdoor educational facility working mainly with inner-city minority children, said, "Kids do what their parents do," noting that "the majority of the population is not concerned about the environment." Lewis also pointed out, "The more education we have that includes exposure to the outdoors, the more people will understand and respect the natural world."
Donald Anderson, a professor in counselor education, noted that most minorities live in urban areas, and he didn't see that pattern changing. But he added, "Wilderness is a national treasure; it will endure."
I would like to think that wilderness will last, that programs like Lewis' and renewed hiring efforts will help bring many minorities to the wild areas I so much love. But I am not so sure.
While I don't agree with pessimists like Bill McKibben who see the natural world as having suffered a death blow - to me, nature remains strong and immensely powerful - I also find myself more and more concerned about how much wilderness will be left for future generations.
The West used to be a place of solace from the materialistic madness back East. (Take a look at the area around the New River Valley Mall for verification.) Now the West seems destined for the same fate.
Twenty-five years ago, the first sight of the Canadian Rockies brought tears of joy to my innocent and astonished eyes. This past summer, the tears came again, but they were ones of sadness for the developments in Banff, Jasper and Lake Louise, for the threatened animals and crowded roads. I don't really know what to do anymore.
Justin Askins is an associate professor in the English department at Radford University.
by CNB