Black in the Mountains
Recently my parents visited me in California, and for part of their trip I wanted to take them outside of the city to experience some of California’s beautiful landscapes. After considering the weather I settled on Idyllwild, CA (cue OutKast).
It’s a super laid back mountain town with incredible views and shaded streets thanks to the giant pine trees. This, I decided, was the perfect family vacation spot.
As a Black woman I did have other things to consider though. In addition to looking up an Airbnb; of which I had no luck finding a host of color, I also checked out the racial makeup of the town. Any mentions of hate crimes and the political affiliations of the residents.
I know to some that might sound excessive, but when you are Black and traveling to a town where there is less that .006 percent of other Black people, safety must be a consideration.
The drive up to the village was epic, with canyon views as far as the eyes could see. After what felt like endless mountainous switchbacks, we arrived at our cozy Airbnb. My father, ever the explorer, wanted to take a walk around the neighborhood.
Growing up I’ve always considered my dad a super friendly man. While that’s true, the older I’ve become I understand that it also serves as a way to let people know that he (a six foot- three inch, dark skin Black man) isn’t in fact threatening.
It’s a way of making sure the neighbors see you, and you see them. It’s protection.
We waited until evening for our first stroll around the block. The neighbors were just getting home, kids were laughing and grills were being fired up. As we began our walk, it felt like the ultimate test. Here was our opportunity to see if we’d be accepted.
At the first house a dad and his kid were out on the porch and starred us down the entire time it took to pass their house. Even through our head nods, waves and introductions they only starred. The breeze flowing through his “Born, Raised & Protected” 2nd Amendment flag was the only thing returning our greeting.
“Well this isn’t going well.” I said.
“No, no it’s not." My dad chucked.
Or next house was a restoration of hope. Former high school music teachers, we’d come to find out, lived in the colorful house at the end of the block. As we passed their idilic green lawn filled with wild rabbits and barking dogs, they made the effort to greet us first. We stopped and talked about music and the sounds of nature and finally after my mind was clear of the first neighbor, we walked home with a better understanding of what to expect from our surroundings; both wildlife and human.
Even still we slept with a found axe under the bed. Can’t be too cautious.
We spent our days going on nature walks, reading, thrift shopping and record collecting. Spending time in Idyllwild reminded me that the mountains belong to all of us.
Especially the Indigenous, Spanish and Black peoples who first inhabited this land. I didn’t walk into new spaces alone. I brought every ancestor with me. We are all standing there together, our presence a protest to the norm.
It is unfair that racism, and all the other -isms take up so much space in our minds. There is a delicate balance to being “othered” in this country and in this world. Life becomes a big ‘Yes, AND’.
Yes, we were the only Black folks I saw in Idyllwild which is a little unsettling, AND we deserve to be here just as much as everyone else. Yes we met some neighbors that didn’t seem eager to meet us, AND we met some neighbors that filled our bellies with laughter.
Spending time in nature made me want to pass it on to others so that next time I come to the mountains, we won’t be among the onlys.
Have you had to consider your safety before traveling?
Are you privileged enough to not have had to consider it at all?
How can we be better advocates for bringing nature to everyone?
I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below!
Until Next time,
Joy B