On May 9, the National Park Service (NPS) sent employees a memo that effectively banned them from participating in Pride events in uniform. The memo from Deputy Director for Operations Frank Lands didn’t mention Pride specifically, but said that the agency was in the process of updating its uniform policy, which determines when and where employees can wear their official NPS apparel outside park property. ā€œWhile in uniform we represent the NPS and have a responsibility to balance our personal and professional lives,ā€ he wrote.

Until those updates came through (no date was specified), staff would be prohibited from ā€œparticipating in or attending any demonstration or public event wherein the wearing of the uniform could be construed as agency support for a particular issue, position or political party,ā€ the memo said.

When I saw the news, my heart sank. As a queer and transgender person, it felt like the agency was turning its back on me and my community. For years, the NPS has championed LGBTQ+ rights. An official Park Service unit has marched in San Franciscoā€™s annual Pride parade . And just last year, Yosemiteā€™s Instagram feed proudly featured uniformed staff with Pride flags. The agencyā€™s own Stonewall National Monument in Greenwich Village, New York, commemorates an iconic piece of queer history. In 1969, police raids on LGBTQ+ patrons at the Stonewall Inn bar led to riots, then six days of demonstrations, marking a turning point for civil rights.

The initial memo raised enough questions that Lands sent a second, in which he noted NPS has not canceled in-park Pride events. He also explained that the process for uniform approvals in recent years had been inconsistent. ā€œApproving participation in some events and not others could be seen as discrimination based on viewpoint, which we just cannot do,ā€ Lands wrote. ā€œWhile it may not feel like it, holding to our policy promotes equitable treatment of these requests.ā€

The memos led to pushback from employees, and in late May, LGBTQ+ advocates took to social media to raise their concerns. Drag queen and environmentalist Pattie Gonia posted on her Instagram, ā€œNational Park Service this is NOT what allyship looks likeā€¦this year pride really is a protest.ā€

Finally, on May 24, Secretary of the Interior Deb Haaland sent out a memo walking back the initial guidance. Her note didnā€™t specifically mention Pride, but talked more generally about upcoming ā€œspecial emphasis months,ā€ a designation that includes Pride, along with African American History Month, Native American Heritage Month, and others. Her memo specified that staff was now permitted to participate in uniform in external events related to these months.

Itā€™s a fraught time to be a visibly queer or trans outdoor recreationalist. Anti-LGBTQ+ policies have gained momentum across the country, including in states that are home to some of our most beloved wild places. If you want to visit Americaā€™s most popular national park, the Great Smoky Mountains, youā€™ll pass through North Carolina or Tennessee, which have seen a combined 46 anti-LGBTQ+ bills introduced this year . Yellowstone spans three statesā€”Idaho, Wyoming, and Montanaā€”where a combined 25 bills keep trans youth out of school sports, redefine gender in state law, and prohibit state contractors from using their preferred bathroom, among other rollbacks to LGBTQ+ rights.

When I was 17, my best friend and I drove through the night from Maryland to kayak in Everglades National Park. That was over 20 years ago, but Iā€™d have to think very carefully before visiting that park today. In 2023, the Human Rights Campaign issued an advisory for LGBTQ+ people visiting Florida due to the political environment there.

I recently moved from Bozeman, Montana, to New Yorkā€™s Hudson Valley, where Stonewallā€™s influence emanates well into Catskills and Adirondacks. It seems like I stumble into an LGBTQ+ event at every state park or ski area, and based on casual observations, I suspect our local climbing gym is majority queer. Iā€™m protected by anti-discrimination laws, and my partner and I rarely draw any attention or negative commentary. But back in Bozeman, where I lived for 12 years, the police just evacuated my favorite cafe because of a bomb threat related to a drag story hour. My partner and I wonā€™t let threats, U-hauls full of , anti-LGBTQ+ laws, or a wishy-washy Interior Department stop us from visiting western national parks this summer. But with two young kids in tow and their well-being on our minds, it does mean we will be looking over our shoulders in a way we donā€™t at home.

For people whoā€™ve been told they donā€™t fit in for their entire lives, uniforms can signify a hard-won sense of belonging and help LGBTQ+ staff and visitors feel welcome in the parks. ā€œI think for me, personally, growing up, I never saw park rangers that looked like me,ā€ says a member of the Park Serviceā€™s LGBTQ+ employee resource group (ERG) who spoke with me on condition of anonymity. ā€œSo to be able to wear the uniform with my multiple identities, it means a lot in affirming who I am, and also my place in the agency. And that others like me can be in the Park Service as well.ā€

Now, imagine having that affirmation revoked, and being asked to show up as less than your whole self. Itā€™s a little bit like dating someone who doesnā€™t want to be seen with you in public.

When I reached out for comment about the series of memos, the NPS sent along a short statement. ā€œRegional Directors will determine the level and nature of NPS participation, considering operational and budgetary factors,ā€ they wrote. ā€œAs we do every June, parks will be hosting and participating in Pride events and sharing stories that recognize the joy and perseverance of the lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer community.ā€

But while Lands indicated in his memos that the updated uniform guidance was largely a response to an influx of staff requests to wear uniforms at events, I spoke with several NPS staffers involved in the LGBTQ+ ERG who believe that their leadership is becoming more risk-averse.

ā€œCommunity events have become more politicized,ā€ says the ERG member we spoke with. ā€œInstead of creating a distinction between a political event and an identity-based event, or civil rights-oriented event, leadership is just doing a blanket no.ā€ Administrators denied approval for uniformed participation in at least one Latino heritage festival, according to two NPS staff members we interviewed.

I spoke with several employees who mentioned that the timing and nature of the memos have damaged staff morale and trust within the agency. According to members of the Park Serviceā€™s LGBTQ+ employee resource group, this isnā€™t an isolated incident, but part of a pattern of leadership denying staff requests to participate in Pride events while in uniform.

LGBTQ+ advocates fear the initial memo, although already reversed, could still affect future Pride event approvals. ā€œThe stuff that scares me is the non-official policy decisions that will be made as a result of this,ā€ says Mikah Meyer, an LGBTQ+ advocate who became the first person to visit every NPS site in a single trip. ā€œWhat well-intentioned superintendent is going to see all of this hubbub and think maybe itā€™s safer not to approve this Pride thing this year or this is controversial so letā€™s wait a year.ā€

Following Haaland’s memo, Pattie Gonia sent an email to reporters echoing that sentiment. ā€œWe remain cautious on how the updated policy will be implemented,ā€ Pattie Gonia told reporters. She noted that she is advocating for safeguards that would allow NPS employees to appeal permission denials from park leadership. In her email, she congratulated queer Park Service employees for their successful advocacy and thanked the NPS and Haaland for listening to staff and the public.

There is a huge discrepancy between queer people and the rest of the population when it comes to safety and quality of life, which means that we need agencies like NPS to be stalwart in their support. Knowing that our civil rights are considered within the bounds of national parks could make the difference for whether or not an LGBTQ+ person chooses to take advantage of a system that is meant for everyone.

This is a tough political environment for public agencies, and I have to wonder if NPS was just trying to avoid legal conflict or becoming a target of extremism. But even if that were the case, the agency needs to support vulnerable employees and visitors who are at risk of harassment or worseā€”not cave to pressure from people who have politicized our existence. Continuing to allow uniformed Park Service staff at Pride is a simple way to signal that national parks should be, and hopefully are, safe places for queer people and staff.

The post The National Park Service Fumbled Pride Month. Its Employees Still Feel Wary. appeared first on ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų Online.

On October 17, a group of sixth graders arrived at Oregonā€™s Camp Tamarack, located near the town of Sisters, for a three-day stay at outdoor school, a state-funded staple for students. But just a few hours after they showed up,Ģżthe kids were ushered back onto their buses and taken home. The reason? Some of the camp counselors were nonbinary, and there was a misunderstanding among teachers and camp officials about sleeping arrangements.Ģż

According , some students went to their teachers after learning about the presence of nonbinary counselors. ā€œSleeping in cabins with and dressing in front of the counselors, was the source of discomfort,ā€ said Stefanie Garber, superintendent of central Oregonā€™s Culver School District, in an October 18 letter to parents explaining why she called off the outdoor school experience.ĢżĢż

What was omitted from Garberā€™s letter was a fact about the campā€™s rules: students have access to private changing rooms and do not need to change in front of counselors, nor do they shower at the outdoor camp. Camp Tamarackā€™s executive director, Charlie Anderson, has since clarified that the camp, which is part of an outdoor school science program available to all Oregon 5th and 6th graders, also follows Oregon Department of Educationā€™s nondiscrimination policies, which requires camp counselorsā€™ genders to remain confidential. In 2020, Oregon became in the U.S. to recognize nonbinary and gender-fluid students.

The studentsā€™ concerns filtered from teachers to their principal, and then on to Garber, who was not present at the outing and could not reach camp staff. She decided to remove all students from Camp Tamarack. Camp staff learned what was happening only as students were leaving. Anderson (who declined to speak to ŗŚĮĻ³Ō¹ĻĶų) wrote a letter to the Tamarack community which was later shared on social media. In the letter, Anderson said that some students cried and chanted, ā€œLet us stay.ā€

Garber says her decision to pull the kids from the camp was not due to anti-LGBTQ+ sentiment, but rather because she wanted to maintain the trust of parents. Some children, and presumably their parents, she said, seemed to lack information about sleeping arrangements. Since outdoor school is not mandatory, parents can always opt out if they donā€™t like camp policies.Ģż

ā€œSome of these stories make it sound like we just fell off the turnip truck,ā€ Garber says. Garber acknowledged that the decision to remove the kids may have been interpreted as bigotry, but said that her decision was not discriminatory.Ģż

ā€œIt was really this perfect storm of errors that couldnā€™t be fixed,ā€ Garber says. Culver School District students have been promised a spring camp opportunity, though it wonā€™t be at Tamarack, since the facility is booked out for the year. After Culver pulled its students, decided to switch its Tamarack camps to day trips only.Ģż

Still, the decision to pull the children sent ripples through Oregon. In a in the Bend Bulletin, former counselor Kevin Crawford wrote, ā€œ[Superintendent] Garber failed as an educator when she pulled those students from camp. She failed to recognize her studentā€™s discomfort as an opportunity to do her jobā€”to educate.ā€Ģż

Crawford spent seven seasons at Tamarack, and said that when he first heard about the students being sent home, he feared the experience could have been damaging for the counselors. ā€œSuddenly, the students are being pulled out because of this adult discomfort over your identity, the very core of who you are,ā€ he says. ā€œI know camp has [the counselorsā€™] backs 100 percent, but regardless, having the superintendent of a school district take out a class of sixth graders because of you? You would take that so personally. Youā€™d be like ā€˜Oh, it was me, Iā€™m the problem.ā€™ā€

released in early November titled ā€˜Coming Together,ā€™ Anderson and Garber wrote of their desire to ā€œrespect the values and identitiesā€ of those who participate in outdoor school.

ā€œWe view it as a missed opportunity for a meaningful discussion around issues of respect, inclusion, compassion, belonging, and, ultimately, mutual understanding,ā€ the statement said.Ģż

The statement did little to tamp down a wave of online hatred directed at the school after the incident. Vitriolic comments toward trans and nonbinary people appeared on Camp Tamarackā€™s Facebook, prompting camp officials to shut the page down.Ģż

ā€œIā€™ve seen a lot of ignorance and a lot of bigotry in response to what happened, ā€œ says Maddie Reitz, a former Camp Tamarack staff member. ā€œIt goes along with a wave of transphobia that has been so rampant, especially in the past year or two. Seeing that directed to a place thatā€™s so close to my heart was just really devastating.ā€Ģż

As outdoor schools work to become more welcoming and safer for vulnerable students, they face spillover from the nation-wide , often directed at youth.Ģż

ā€œI think any program, school, or district that is vocally supporting any student from a marginalized identity and community is a political target right now,ā€ says Spirit Brooks, the interim director of Oregonā€™s , the Oregon State University-based program that oversees state-funded outdoor school programs like Camp Tamarack.Ģż

More than 80 percent of Oregon students go to outdoor school, after a 2016 ballot initiative made the state one of the first to include fully-funded outdoor school in its public science curriculum. And while many camps, Tamarack included, have worked hard to become a welcoming place for all students, Brooksā€™ research has found that trans and nonbinary studentsĢżhave less positive outdoor school experiences than their peers.

It isnā€™t easy to be a gender-nonconforming kid. According to a youth ages 13 to 17 are significantly more likely than adults to identity as transgender, and that number is increasing. Suicide rates are exceptionally high in transgender youth compared to the rest of the population, and that gender affirmation at schoolā€”like allowing students to use the bathroom that suits themā€”reduces that risk. At Camp Tamarack, trans and nonbinary students have the right to self-assign to the cabin that most aligns with their gender, and to use private restroom facilities. Some other outdoor camps have all-gender cabins. The inclusion and accessibility practices at Tamarack are consistent with nationwide guidelines from the .

The central Oregon LGBTQ+ community and Camp Tamarack alums have rallied around the camp. ā€œIt has been so beautiful to see the amount of support and love directed towards Tamarack and their programming,ā€ says Reitz, whose outdoor education career began as a high school counselor. As a freshman, she fell in love with teaching kids about local ecology on the campā€™s pine-covered lake shore, and was excited to learn leadership skills and help build an accepting community. Reitz (who uses she/they pronouns) worked at Tamarack for five years, and is now staff at a similar outdoor school in California.

Even as outdoor schools and districts continue to navigate a difficult national political environment for supporting gender-diverse youth, Brooks is confident that Outdoor School for Allā€™s goals and values wonā€™t change. ā€œEven though thereā€™s a vocal minority, we’re going to continue to support equitable, culturally responsive outdoor school programs for Oregon youth,ā€ she says. ā€œWhen we have programs that have high school leadersĢżwho identify as trans, nonbinary, or gender expansive, that’s a really positive thing.ā€

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