On his way to document SCA interns working in Waveland, Mississippi, our colleague Garrett passed through New Orleans and sent back these photos. Stay tuned for more photos â€” of gulf restoration work around Bay St. Louis, Mississippi, especially hard hit by Hurricane Katrina almost two years ago and then a marine biology project in Padre Island National Seashore off the coast of Texas.
by Katie Sobalsky
I'm an SCA intern this summer for my second time. I just couldn't get enough of the trail work! There are eight of us on the crew building a reroute up the trail on Petersburg Mountain. Residents here seem grateful for our work as the trail is currently mighty steep and run down and in parts quite impassable.
Krishna Kennedy's mom here. I will have him accept formally himself, but there is no question he will come. His (adoptive) dad climbed McKinley (Denali) in 1987, which started his obsession with big mountains, which resulted in his climb of Cho Oyu, which resulted in our adopting two kids from Nepal, which resulted in our finding out about a third sibling, which resulted in our eventual (took 6 years) adoption of Krishna.
The NPS Centennial Report to the President was posted Friday at www.nps.gov/2016. We found this tribute to SCA on the last page, written by Mauricio Escobar, who among other contributions to SCA has served on our Board of Directors.
With our partners, we can change lives.
The Student Conservation Association changed my life one summer while working in a national park. So how was my life changed?
To answer this question, I need to explain my other life. I was born in a small mountainous town in civil war torn El Salvador. I emigrated to the inner city of Los Angeles at the age of 10. This drastic move had life-changing consequences, but it was not a choice I made, it was simply one I lived through.
For the next decade, I grew up in the graffiti-filled streets of South Central, where even nice guys had to front a cut-throat persona to get through the day without being beaten. You either rose to the fighting or you died. I had my own run-ins with the authorities. I was a quarrelsome Latino kid trying to justify his low-income existence and cover his own helplessness with anger.
A friend invited me to a Student Conservation Association meeting (it reached out to inner city kids to spread conservation awareness and to instill a sense of ownership toward national parks). In his words, "Yo, free pizza!" I would like to say that I attended because I believed in the mission, or that I wanted my life changed for the better, but the reality was that I went because they had food. Several pizza meetings later, I decided to spend the summer working on a trail crew at Golden Gate National Recreation Area.
I made this decision for several reasons, mainly I wanted to get away from work as a gardener. I had been working with my father since I was 12 years old, every Saturday and every school break. I also felt slightly guilty for all the pizza I had consumed on the nonprofit's dime.
So, what was the hardest thing for an inner city youth who was used to drive-by shootings and turf-divided school zones? It was not the long hours of cutting brush, or the full-body poison oak outbreak. For me, the hardest things were the pristine silence of nature, deafening to ears accustomed to noise, and the blinding pitch-black nights with the bizarre but mesmerizing highway of stars. Facing these unknowns gave me a new way to interpret the world and my place in it. My life and world no longer needed to be defined by confusing anger. I could see new avenues.
After that summer, I realized I should and could go to a university. I attended the University of California at Santa Cruz and worked with the National Park Service and SCA during summer breaks. I became the first in my entire Salvadorian community to graduate from a university. I later worked for SCA and attended graduate school to study history. I leveraged my experience to become a ranger at Klondike Gold Rush National Historical Park.
I realize the choices I made long ago have come to define my life and destination; and that the turning point was not a specific event but a cumulative experience. It occurred during that one summer spent working in the National Park Service and with a youth organization committed to challenging inner city youths to see the world, and their place in it.
I hope to channel the National Park Service's mission for future generations. I am greatly indebted to both of these organizations for the life I now have.
National Park Ranger
Klondike Gold Rush National Historical Park