

GETTING KIDS INTO THE WILD FOSTERS A LIFELONG LOVE OF NATURE
PLUS: PROTECTING NATIONAL SCENIC TRAILS, AN EXPEDITION INTO MINNESOTA’S NORTHWOODS, AND A MESSAGE OF HOPE
We’re helping local communities in California and Washington get into the wild so kids and their families can experience the joy of camping and the wonders of nature.
Our national Trails initiative is expanding the Appalachian Trail corridor with newly protected land that will benefit explorers and nearby rural communities.
Our Minnesota team partnered with Backcountry Hunters and Anglers to launch a Mentored Hunting program. Join their journey.
“I used to view hunters as people who only take from the landscape.”
~
KENG YANG,
With a variety of ways to give, we offer something to suit everyone.
Use the envelope bound inside this magazine to send your gift, or donate online and learn about more ways to give at tpl.org/support .
Simplify your charitable giving and meet your philanthropic goals by giving through your donor-advised fund, IRA, or appreciated securities. Learn more at tpl.org/daf.
Share your love of nature and outdoor adventures with someone you care about. Make a difference and honor a friend or loved one with a tribute gift.
Donate $1,000 or more annually and receive the recognition due a champion, such as invitations to special events and insider updates on our projects. Call 415.495.4014 or email champions@tpl.org to learn more.
Reimagine the future. Consider including us in your will or trust, or as a remainder beneficiary of your retirement fund or DAF—and explore other tax-wise ways of giving. Call 202.856.3748 or email plannedgiving@tpl.org to learn more.
Car recycling benefits both people and the environment by conserving natural resources, reducing pollution, and lessening energy consumption. Call 855.500.RIDE (7433) or visit tpl.org/cars to get started.
Scan with your mobile device’s camera to make a gift today!
Trust for Public Land depends on your support. You make our work possible. tpl.org/support
From the President · 11
Renewal is found outdoors, and now more than ever, TPL is championing access to vital green spaces for everyone, everywhere.
Board Spotlight · 12
Get to know Jennifer Jones.
First Look · 13
Buzzworthy updates on exciting TPL projects nationwide, a communitygardening primer, our ongoing impact on America’s national scenic trails, and a deep dive into our conservation finance efforts.
On Topic · 58
A roundup of insightful book, TV series, and podcast recommendations from partners and staff.
TPL Near Me · 60
A New York chef shares what the QueensWay, an in-development urban trail, will mean for him and his community.
Member Center · 62
Offices · 63
Trail’s End · 64
A welcome message of hope and inspiration from Dr. Howard “Howie” Frumkin, who served as TPL's senior vice president and director of the Land and People Lab.
on the cover
Students at Waskowitz Outdoor Education Center in Washington State goof around with binoculars.
Photo: Jorge Rivas
Story Mill Community Park is an award-winning park and nature sanctuary—and it’s easy to see why. It undid heavy damage from prior industrialization to reveal natural streams, restore a riverfront, and nurture healthy wetlands that support wildlife and improve local water quality. Its planning included space for affordable housing, demonstrating thoughtful development in a quickly growing city. And within its 60 acres lies a community garden and food forest that supply the Gallatin Valley Food Bank with produce to fight food insecurity in the area. Learn how to start your own community garden in this issue.
Page · 18
If you’re like us, you appreciate nature at all times of day, and this glorious look at the night sky from a campsite along the Appalachian Trail (or AT) fills us with wonder— and a yearning to get outside and hit the trails. Recently, TPL protected 194 acres along the AT near Tyringham, Massachusetts, the site of a historic Shaker settlement. This area is also rife with sweeping pastoral landscapes and important wildlife habitat. Our work supports local communities by preserving the character of the region and ensuring immersive nature experiences are available for recreation and economic vitality.
Read about our work along the AT in this issue.
Page · 40
tpl.org/champions | champions@ tpl.org
Become a Conservation Champion, and help us connect even more people to the outdoors with your annual leadership-level contribution of $1,000 or more.
Discover the impact you’ll have as a Conservation Champion by contacting us at 415.495.4014 or champions@tpl.org.
Join us online for project updates, stunning photos, and inspiring stories.
Follow us on social media:
@trustforpublicland
@TheTrustforPublicLand
@the-trust-for-public-land
@tpl_org
TrustforPublicLand
Be sure to tag us in your posts!
Sign up for our emails: tpl.org/email-signup
And listen to our podcast, People. Nature. Big Ideas. tpl.org/podcast
chair
Lucas St. Clair
Jodi Archambault
J. Franklin Farrow
Mickey Fearn
Anita Graham
Carrie Besnette Hauser
Allegra “Happy” Haynes
Alex Martin Johnson
Jennifer Jones
Philip June
Chris Knight
Christopher G. Lea
Joseph E. Lipscomb
Eliot Merrill
Ignacia S. Moreno
Julie Parish
Michael Parish
David Poppe
Thomas S. Reeve
Laura Richards
Ted Roosevelt V
Anton Seals Jr.
Sheryl Crockett Tishman
Taylor Toynes
Jerome C. Vascellaro
Lindi von Mutius
Alvin Warren
Keith E. Weaver
Susan D. Whiting
Florence Williams
Kenneth Wong
National Board of Directors since 2022
New York Advisory Board since 2020
Chair, Land and People Lab Advisory Committee, since 2023
You’ve long championed our community schoolyards; why do es that initiative speak to you? One big reason: A community schoolyard has the power to improve the quality of everyday life for a lot of people, especially in cities. I observed how people used a TPL schoolyard one day from afternoon through dusk: There were teens horsing around on the basketball court. Two families arrived with pizza and shared dinner at one of the tables. A group of young professionals met for a workout. Some residents from the nearby senior center walked the track, and a girl teetered on a bike with training wheels. And it’s a bonus that TPL is transforming a resource already in the hands of the public into a community asset.
What TPL projects inspire you right now? The Chattahoochee RiverLands in Georgia. Like so many waterways in our nation, the Chattahoochee is recovering from its industrial role in the preceding centuries. Revitalizing these waters is complex work that requires expertise, creativity, partnership, and long-term commitment. This describes how TPL shows up in communities and engages in meaningful work with the people who live there—which also describes an exciting project
AS SENIOR DIRECTOR OF CONTENT CREATION in the development office at Rockefeller University—a biomedical research institute in New York City—Jennifer Jones knows the power of storytelling. In fact, it’s part of her job to translate scientific discoveries into meaningful stories for a general audience. It’s no wonder, then, that she gravitated to TPL’s Land and People Lab, where she chairs the advisory committee. The Lab’s team of experts supports TPL’s work with research-based evidence and an eye toward influencing policy and practice. Jones also understands the importance of funding and is an avid supporter of TPL's mission. This spring, we checked in to see what's been inspiring her about our work lately.
that is close to home for me: the QueensWay in New York. Read more on page 60.
What’s a top-of-mind concern for you at the moment, and how is TPL poised to address it? I worry that our commitment to each other is disintegrating under the stresses of daily life. We can forget to be gentle when we are depleted by challenges. Still, humans have this incredible capacity to recharge and rebound in good company or the right environment. TPL is creating those kinds of places, making it easier for the time-pressed or resource-depleted among us to get outdoors.
How do you most enjoy connecting to the outdoors? Some of my best time outdoors is spent in my vegetable garden at home in Brooklyn. I love the process of tending the seeds and the soil . . . and being teased by the ravens, who keep rearranging the labels on my pepper plants. Beyond home, I love a good day hike with friends or family. Eating a well-earned peanut butter sandwich while sitting on a sun-warmed rock makes for a great day.
learn more @ TPL.ORG/JONES
TURN THE PAGE FOR:
Advice on Starting a Community Garden
An Artsy New Pocket Park in Denver
How Democracy Works for the Outdoors
Author, naturalist, and founder of the Chattanooga Audubon Society, Robert Sparks Waller wrote the words below in 1943. But his assertion that real value in life can be found in the beauty and benefits of nature rings just as true today. Here, a young girl gestures toward downtown Chattanooga from an overlook on Stringer’s Ridge, where TPL preserved 92 acres of trails and forest for all to enjoy. Learn how TPL is connecting young people to the outdoors through first-time nature experiences starting on page 30.
“It is a beautiful world, and I am so glad that early in life I learned to love many things better than money. That is what I should love to teach every child.”
— Robert Sparks Waller
At Jennie Reed Elementary School in Tacoma, Washington, students have to shout to hear each other at recess. And the building’s HVAC filters are replaced twice as often as at other area schools. The reason? Noise and air pollution, respectively, from traffic whizzing down Interstate 5, which sharply abuts the property, separated only by a retaining wall. But students and teachers alike have a new reason to shout—a celebratory one.
A renovated community schoolyard opened at Jennie Reed in May 2024, offering a vibrant place for students to learn and greater park access for nearby residents.
The site includes climate-smart features such as built-in drainage to capture rainwater and prevent flooding, and a line of newly planted trees will reduce noise and air pollution in a big way over time.
Just a few months earlier, a similarly revamped play area was unveiled at nearby Helen B. Stafford Elementary School . Both schoolyards are among five pilot sites that Trust for Public Land is creating in the state in partnership with Tacoma Public Schools and Metro Parks Tacoma. The sites were designed, like all TPL community schoolyards, with creative input from students and residents.
Altogether, the five schoolyards—which remain open to neighbors after school hours— will serve more than 25,000 people, increasing the percentage of Tacoma residents within a 10-minute walk of a park from 31 (in 2020) to 75,
We’re proud to bring access to the outdoors to Tacoma neighborhoods that needed more space for people to gather and play.”
SARNESHEA EVANS, TPL WASHINGTON PROGRAM DIRECTOR
greatly improving park equity in a city that currently has one of Washington’s largest park access gaps.
“We’re proud to bring access to the outdoors to Tacoma neighborhoods that needed more space for people to gather and play,” says Sarneshea Evans, a Washington program director for TPL. And play they will: For students, the overarching health and climate benefits fly under the radar while they’re busy enjoying cleaner air, colorful new play equipment, and fun local features such as a new lion statue at Stafford in honor of its mascot.
Nearly 3,000 miles away in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, students at F. Amedee Bregy School celebrated their own community schoolyard opening in late 2023, adding to TPL’s growing list of 350-plus schoolyards nationwide that have been transformed from asphalt lots with dated play structures to thriving outdoor spaces ready for learning.
These sites include green infrastructure working behind the scenes, as well. The updated schoolyard at Bregy, for instance, can capture 1.5 million gallons of stormwater and provides further climate benefits by way of 30 new trees.
At Add B. Anderson Elementary School, where TPL transformed another Philadelphia playground about 6 miles away, former Principal Dr. Laurena Zeller applauds the process: “We gave our students the opportunity to dream a little bit bigger and wider in a space that is meaningful to them,” she says.
From coast to coast, Trust for Public Land and our local partners are bringing joy, togetherness, and climate resilience to students and neighborhoods, one community schoolyard at a time. That’s certainly something to cheer about.
Now we’ll be able to tell a more complete story by providing a place of learning and remembrance of the lives shattered at this notorious slave market.”
STACEY SHANKLE, TPL MID-SOUTH PROGRAM DIRECTOR
In a Mississippi town called Natchez, the second-largest slave market in the United States plied its evil enterprise from the 1830s to the 1860s, leaving an infamous legacy along the Mississippi River. Tens of thousands of enslaved people were forced to walk there in shackles for hundreds of miles—from Maryland, Virginia, the Carolinas, and Kentucky. If they survived the journey, their grim march culminated in their sale.
For many years the slave market, called Forks of the Road, was all but forgotten, with nothing left of its infrastructure. In fact, when the market finally closed during the Civil War, members of both the 12th Wisconsin Infantry and the newly created 58th Regiment of U.S. Colored Troops gleefully tore down the slave pens in a single night to extract lumber for building a new barracks. Some were, themselves, former slaves who had been sold there.
As one soldier in the 12th Wisconsin Infantry wrote at the time, “This order was received just at evening and was hailed with the wildest enthusiasm by these men who had been chained, gagged, and whipped, and suffered tortures unutterable within these same walls.”
Thanks in part to TPL’s efforts, Forks of the Road is the latest open-to-the-public addition to Natchez National Historical Park, an achievement that aligns with the goals of our Black History and Culture program. Other units of the park include an antebellum mansion, a former French fort,
and a home that had belonged to a freed slave who became a successful businessman.
Working with the National Parks Foundation and National Park Service, Trust for Public Land has helped the park acquire five total plots within the 18-acre site, with plans to purchase several more. Stacey Shankle, TPL’s mid-South program director, is committed to acquiring and protecting as much new parkland as possible.
In the meantime, meetings with the community will assist the park service in better understanding how residents want to see the grounds interpreted. Of Forks of the Road, Shankle says: “Now we’ll be able to tell a more complete story by providing a place of learning and remembrance of the lives shattered at this notorious slave market.”
What’s impactful, beneficial, and green all over? Our Five Mile Creek
Greenbelt in Dallas, Texas. A 17-mile trail network connecting over a dozen city parks and three new TPL-led parks, it will bring outdoor access to part of the city that’s long been left out of green space improvement efforts. With one park open and one underway, next up is development of the greenbelt’s final installment, Woody Branch Park.
In this case, “park” is a bit of an understatement. We’re talking about a whopping 82 acres of protected forest right in a major metro area. That’s no small feat. In fact, it’s the largest addition to the Dallas park system in over 20 years. Notably, the land includes trees that can capture over 3,700 metric tons of carbon annually—the equivalent of 3,000 gaspowered cars driven for a year—lessening the impacts of climate change and reducing temperatures in an already hot city.
Of the 186,297 people living within the creek’s watershed, only 54 percent have access to a park or trail within a 10-minute walk of home. Molly Morgan, TPL’s Texas state
director, says, “People in southern Dallas along Five Mile Creek deserve access to nature that connects them to the rest of the city’s trail network, to an option of a safer route if they want to walk somewhere.”
Woody Branch Park will add immensely to the equitable development of southern Dallas. TPL staff began the community engagement process earlier this year, meeting with residents to get their input on the park’s features and design, taking health, safety, and accessibility into account.
ACCOUNT FOR WATER USE— AND LET IT INFORM YOUR PLANT CHOICES. “You have to think through how you’re going to water,” Steverson observes, including working with your city or county on irrigation. She suggests supplementing irrigation with waterwise techniques, such as using ollas (unglazed ceramic pots), wicking beds, and rain barrels. Plant choices matter here, too. Gardening for your climate can lead to variety and discovery; for instance, in Texas, you might grow drought-hardy native pequin chiles rather than a more widely available pepper—and then cook with them. There’s creativity that comes with asking, “What recipe can I make with that ?”
TEST YOUR SOIL FOR HEAVY METALS. “I can’t stress this enough,” says Steverson. It’s important if you’re growing food but also for safety in general. If you plan on inviting children to spend time in the garden, for instance, “You need to know if there's lead in your soil because you can't control what a kid puts in their mouth,” she adds with a knowing look. Check with your local extension office for guidance, and use raised beds lined with cardboard and filled with fresh organic soil as a precaution.
CONSIDER FUNDING, DONATIONS, AND FREE STUFF. Don’t be intimidated by applying for grants. Steverson says she’s seen many community garden grants that are geared toward the layperson. Membership fees are another source of funding, and never underestimate the potential of donations and partnerships. Local libraries may have seed banks, and some cities will pay the water bill if you start and maintain a garden. And explore what regional industries’ by-products could be useful— and free or low cost; e.g., in Central
Texas, some gardens use pecan shells as mulch. “It doesn't all have to be Home Depot,” she adds. Also keep an eye out for free materials via neighborhood boards and salvage lots.
CONNECT WITH OTHER GARDENS. “A lot of times, there are things that one garden might be struggling with that another garden is fantastic at,” says Steverson, who strongly encourages peer-to-peer learning. Agricultural extension offices or urban agriculture departments can also be great sources of knowledge and advice—not to mention YouTube.
HAVE A LONG GAME. “Community gardens are often run by small groups of people who’ve been involved since the beginning, and they love it,” notes Steverson, “but to keep a garden going, it’s important to recruit a fresh influx of members. “Are there community groups you can approach? Where can you put up flyers?” Consider local schools that may want to use the garden for science education.
EMBRACE THE BENEFITS. Community gardens help people get outside, and that’s worth celebrating in and of itself. “People are beginning to crave spaces that aren’t just virtual, and gardening is something that requires you to be outside,” says Steverson. “That connection with nature is important, as is the connection with people. It’s good for our nervous systems and our anxiety.” She also loves that gardening is something you can start at any point in your life and continue doing for years to come— at whatever level is manageable for you.
Since our earliest days, we’ve helped create community gardens all across the country. These are just a few of those special places.
In the mid-1970s, TPL collaborated with Oakland residents and the Black Panther Party to turn vacant properties into neighborhood gardens. Oakland continues to have a strong community garden network, enriching residents’ lives and producing new generations of gardeners.
Folded into this 60-acre park, which opened in 2019, is a community learning garden where youth organizations raise their own crops and have the opportunity to learn firsthand where food comes from. The produce grown helps feed local families that are in need.
This garden started in 2009 when three women turned a vacant lot into a community gathering and growing space. When the lot was threatened by development, residents rallied to preserve the garden, and TPL helped raise $2.1 million to save this beloved space.
The United States is home to 11 national scenic trails—and TPL has had a hand in all but one. Each of these important paths offers recreational opportunities, facilitates natural wildlife migration, restores sensitive ecosystems, and contributes to climate resilience for surrounding communities. Many of the trails pass through unprotected land, leaving critical corridors at risk of development. We’re leading the effort, alongside partners, to close those gaps, hundreds—or in many cases, thousands— of acres at a time.
By Deborah Williams
Illustration by Nate Padavick
Total Trail Length: 1,200 miles
TPL Trail Corridor* Protected: 5,090 acres
This trail traverses three mountain ranges and is known for its diverse and challenging terrain. Our work here started in 1986, when we first protected 50 acres in Island County, Washington. Notable project: In the early 2000s, we saved roughly 400 acres on Whidbey Island in the Puget Sound, where the route includes the sweeping shorelines and coastal bluffs of Ebey’s Landing National Historical Reserve.
Total Trail Length: 2,650 miles
TPL Trail Corridor Protected: 51,979 acres
For two decades, TPL has protected vast swaths of land around this beloved trail, including its viewshed, watershed, wildlife corridors, and access points. Notable project: Recently, we helped safeguard 7,000 acres of trail corridor between the Trinity Alps and Castle Crags Wildernesses in a move the U.S. Forest Service called a “landmark donation.”
Total Trail Length: 800 miles
TPL Trail Corridor Protected: 2,084 acres
Designated by Congress in 2009, the Arizona Trail is particularly beloved by mountain bikers. It passes through the Grand Canyon, near Tucson and Flagstaff, and runs through dozens of rural communities that benefit from the economic activity it generates. Notable project: Part of the route passes Rincon Creek in Saguaro National Park, where TPL added 300 acres in 2016.
Total Trail Length: 3,100 miles
TPL Trail Corridor Protected: 28,963 acres
The CDT passes through five states, from Southwestern deserts to the Rocky Mountains, and holds many locations sacred to Indigenous tribes. For years, parts of the trail forced hikers onto roads. Thanks to TPL, those sections now go through nature, making the route safer and more scenic. Notable project: We recently expanded the trail corridor by 605 acres at Upper Bear Creek, which is now part of Gila National Forest in New Mexico.
Total Trail Length: 5,800 miles
TPL Trail Corridor Protected: 94,201 acres
Designated in 1980, the North Country Trail is the longest of the 11 scenic trails and runs along Great Lakes and through deciduous forests while Wisconsin’s Ice Age Trail includes fascinating glacial landscapes. We’ve completed more than 40 projects on these trails, including over 1,200 acres along the Ontonagon River in Michigan. Notable project: We’ve added over 13,000 acres to the Ottawa National Forest, including 245 acres along a popular section of the NCT.
Total Trail Length: 235 miles
TPL Trail Corridor Protected: 2,312 acres
This trail passes within 10 miles of 2 million people. Notable project: In 2023, we helped conserve 200 acres in Southwick, Massachusetts, protecting the NET footpath and high-value wildlife habitat that is being managed as part of the Silvio O. Conte National Fish and Wildlife Refuge.
Total Trail Length: 710 miles
TPL Trail Corridor Protected: 7,851 acres
*A trail corridor includes land within a half mile of a trail on either side, with the exception of the AT, which uses a wider corridor measurement based on watershed boundaries.
This trail passes through several sites with historic and natural significance, such as the Great Allegheny Passage, the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal Towpath, the Civil War Defenses of Washington Trail, and George Washington’s Mount Vernon Estate. Notable project: We helped conserve 2,000 acres at George Washington Birthplace National Monument.
Total Trail Length: 2,190 miles
TPL Trail Corridor Protected: 340,000 acres
Designated in 1968, the AT is the longest hiking-only trail in the world. Since 1977, we’ve helped protect 160 parcels in 14 states, including critical watersheds and wildlife corridors. Notable projects: In 2000, we conserved over 16,000 acres at Sterling Forest State Park outside New York City. More recently, we protected 2,600 acres around Bald Mountain Pond in Maine.
Read more on page 40.
Total Trail Length: 1,500 miles
TPL Trail Corridor Protected: 29,016 acres
This trail is within a one-hour drive of most Florida residents. It passes through three national forests, nine wildlife management areas, 16 state forests or parks, two NPS properties, and a wildlife refuge. Notable project: In 2002, TPL added the 470-acre Mills Creek Woodlands along 2 miles of trail.
TPL is creating fresh public spaces with the Denver communities that need them most.
By Natalie Olsen
For years, no one thought much of an abandoned energy substation at a heavily trafficked intersection in southwest Denver, Colorado.
The decommissioned lot was dotted with electric poles and transformers. A fence surrounding the parcel was covered in graffiti. And the corner that it stood on, at Kentucky Avenue and Irving Street, was known as “Killer Kentucky” for the cars that plowed through the four-way stop.
The lot “was right there on the corner of our building, and it was just an eyesore,” recalls Alex Magaña, executive principal of Kepner Beacon Middle School in Denver. “There was no purpose to it.”
After years of work by Trust for Public Land, Denver Parks and Recreation (DPR), community stakeholders, and other partners, the abandoned lot has been reimagined and reborn as a functional neighborhood asset. The once-dangerous corner is now a treasured public space: Westwood Pocket Park.
“We take immense pride in the transformation of a neglected energy substation into a vibrant community park, especially in a neighborhood that previously lacked adequate green
space,” says DPR Executive Director Jolon Clark. “This project exemplifies the power of repurposing underutilized land to create meaningful, accessible public spaces for residents who otherwise may have been underserved by existing park infrastructure.”
Today, the park features skateboarding elements, a basketball half-court, a mural wall, custom seating, shade structures, improved pedestrian connections, and more.
For Antonnio Benton, a TPL project manager for the Colorado Parks for People program, it also exemplifies what happens when community members see what they're capable of—and when organizations stick around for the long haul.
Although park engagement efforts formally began in 2018, Benton traces the origin of the park all the way back to 2013, when TPL became involved in Denver’s Westwood neighborhood through a collaboration focused on transforming alleyways into art-filled corridors.
“It started with the alley cleanup, and more than a dozen projects later, we’re still here—that’s how we work,” Benton says. “In Colorado, our model is going deep and working with communities to identify a series of projects.”
It started with the alley cleanup, and more than a dozen projects later, we’re still here—that’s how we work.”
ANTONNIO BENTON, TPL COLORADO PARKS FOR PEOPLE PROGRAM MANAGER
While Westwood has the highest population of children in the city, it lags when it comes to easy access to quality parks. Historically, it’s also a neighborhood that has seen some of the least investment in green space over the last few decades.
As a result of the alleyway enhancement project, a coalition known as Cool Connected Westwood was formed by residents and dozens of community-based organizations and partners. Together, they envisioned the Westwood Via Verde, a 3-mile pedestrian greenway that would connect parks, schools, and businesses using safe walking and biking routes; it also included plans for structural changes that would improve water quality and provide more shade.
Once finished, the greenway will provide a way for more than 45,000 Westwood residents to reach a green space within a 10-minute walk of home—including this new pocket park, which is close to Kepner Beacon Middle School and public housing.
In 2019, DPR acquired the parcel from Xcel Energy and turned to TPL to help bring the project to fruition, knowing the organization was already engaged in the area. “Trust for Public Land was integral in the community engagement process, working alongside Denver Parks and Recreation throughout the park’s visioning and design stages,” says Clark.
More specifically, for TPL that meant contributing to the park’s distinctiveness by incorporating input from the youth who would use the park most.
“Nothing was too small or too big, and that’s where we really hoped to help the youth and residents flex their civic leadership muscle,” Benton says. “It’s exciting for people to see the reflection of their own involvement based on decisions that show up in the park.”
Santiago Jaramillo, a third-generation Westwood resident who attended Kepner decades ago, says TPL’s approach gave the community room to create space not just for recreation, but for Westwood’s culture as a predominantly Latinx neighborhood with a high concentration of foreign-born residents.
“Just being able to say, ‘Now there is going to be this [park], and this is yours,’ is special,” says Jaramillo, who helped paint the park’s murals—and others along the Via Verde—through
his nonprofit, D3 Arts, where he’s executive director.
In a city that’s highly vulnerable to the impacts of climate change, another overarching goal was to incorporate green infrastructure, including sustainable landscaping practices, adding trees for shade and erosion control, and planting rain gardens to manage stormwater runoff, in addition to the remediation of hazardous soils and materials. Roadway improvements in the surrounding area also decreased the distance it takes to cross the street, helping improve safety for pedestrians—something crucially important at an intersection known to be “killer” in the negative sense of the word.
While Westwood Pocket Park is formally complete, TPL’s work with Colorado communities continues—in Denver as well as Greeley, about an hour northeast. There, TPL staff have spent years working with residents to transform the formerly neglected Delta Park into a vibrant, culturally relevant green space that promotes belonging. They’re also helping establish a forested outdoor classroom at a Greeley community center, and there’s a 975-acre natural area coming along the Cache la Poudre River. In all these cases, TPL works with residents to deliver the outdoor spaces that will serve them best.
“You really get to know folks working hand in hand with them,” Benton says. “And it resonates and makes the work all the more meaningful when you see those people enjoying what you helped create.”
Natalie Olsen is a writer living in the West. A former editor for the Associated Press, she has also written for The New York Times, The Washington Post Magazine, and many other publications.
read more @ TPL.ORG/WESTWOOD-VERDE
LISA W. FODERARO: First, can you explain what we mean by “conservation finance”?
WILL ABBERGER: Our mission has always been about connecting people to the outdoors—about access and equity. To advance that mission, our Conservation Finance program works at the state and local levels to create new sources of public funding for parks, conservation, and climate. We do that primarily through ballot measures, which are questions placed before voters, asking them to decide whether to dedicate funding for those goals. We also work at the state and local levels to create funding legislatively, but the majority of our work is through ballot measures.
How many ballot initiatives have we supported over the years?
We’ve done several hundred successful ballot measures since the program was founded in 1996. Specifically, we’ve won 681 measures out of 813 in 38 states. That represents a passage rate of 84 percent. We’ve worked on many statewide ballot measures, but our particular expertise is at the county and municipal levels, from big cities such as Dallas to small towns like Exeter, New Hampshire.
Take us back to the beginning. What were some of our early ballot victories? And why did TPL decide to be a pioneer in this area?
Those would be in Los Angeles County, California, and MiamiDade County, Florida, where we helped put referenda before voters in 1996 that collectively raised more than a half-billion dollars for parks. Both were called the Safe Neighborhood Parks Act, and both passed overwhelmingly. That was a real eye-opener for TPL. The fact that voters would approve a small tax increase for parks and that it could be done in two very different parts of the country proved that we were onto something big.
How exactly does TPL support the various ballot measures around the United States?
It’s through what we call our conservation finance methodology. We do a lot of homework up front to understand things like finance mechanisms (a property tax, a sales tax, or a bond), voter perspectives, ballot language, and election requirements. Once we know we have a viable proposal and it gets on the ballot, we’re out there running campaigns to raise awareness and gain support. If we can get the ballotmeasure design right—the right finance mechanism, for the
right amount, for the right purposes, on the right ballot, with the right accountability provisions—then that’s really the key to our success.
TPL started out working on ballot initiatives that primarily funded land conservation. But that has expanded to include other goals in recent years. Tell us about those.
While that continues to be a goal, we’ve worked on lots of measures that don’t include funding for land acquisition, but for park development or building new trails, for instance. Today we’re increasingly focused on climate resilience. Ballot measures can fund natural climate solutions, such as preserving forests that store carbon, and climate-related strategies like weatherization, clean energy, and transportation alternatives. In fact, in 2020, Denver was the first major city to approve a new sales tax devoted solely to climate mitigation. The city’s Climate Protection Fund raises about $40 million a year, with half of that money going to communities most impacted by climate change. Wildfire has also emerged as a priority focus recently, with the severe fires we’re seeing in the West. We anticipate many wildfire mitigation and resilience funding measures appearing on ballots.
What’s a ballot measure that stands out among the hundreds TPL has supported?
The Massachusetts Community Preservation Act in 2000 was certainly a milestone for us. It was actually a state legislative
measure. TPL helped write the enabling legislation, which did two key things. One, it authorized towns and cities to take ballot measures to their voters, asking them to increase the local property tax for conservation, parks, historic preservation, and affordable housing. And two, it created a state trust fund (the Community Preservation Trust Fund) that provides matching funds for those communities that vote to tax themselves. Last fall marked an important milestone: More than 200 cities and towns in Massachusetts have now passed the Community Preservation Act, raising over $3.4 billion. If your town says we want to increase our property tax by 1 percent for parks, conservation, historic preservation, and affordable housing, then your town is guaranteed matching funds from the state. So that’s a very strong incentive.
Are there more recent ballot measures you’d like to highlight?
Of course. In Beaufort County, South Carolina, voters have approved measures funding the conservation of critical lands and natural areas in seven different elections since 2000. The most recent measure appeared on the ballot in 2022. That’s a total of $260 million for land protection. With that money, the county has been able to conserve about 25,000 acres. That’s a pretty conservative part of the country. But one of the gratifying things about this work is that it unites commu-
One of the gratifying things about this work is that it unites communities. We find that voters—Republican, Democrat, and independent alike—all support land conservation.”
WILL ABBERGER, TPL CONSERVATION FINANCE DIRECTOR
nities. We find that voters—Republican, Democrat, and independent alike—all support land conservation. Another recent measure to highlight is Proposition 4 in California. Last year, California voters passed a truly historic climate and environmental bond measure that will provide $10 billion over 40 years and be transformative for the state.
In November, TPL campaigned for 23 ballot measures, and all of them passed. In addition to taking a well-deserved victory lap, what are we focused on next?
I think the future of our conservation finance work lies in climate and equity, which is consistent with TPL’s strategic priorities. We want to focus on places where we can have a significant impact in these areas. But there will come a time when all critical natural areas and wildlife habitat will have been acquired or developed. We’ve reached that point in many parts of our country already. So the issue then becomes restoration—taking land that may have been developed residentially or commercially and turning it back into parkland. That’s where the future is.
Finally, some people might wonder why it’s important to support organizations like TPL when voters are directing state and local governments to fund conservation. What’s the role of private philanthropy?
The magic of our work for private donors is leverage. For every $1 of private funding contributed to Trust for Public Land, we’re able to turn that into $2,000 of new public funding for parks and conservation. The climate crisis and biodiversity crisis and lack of equitable access to the outdoors in the United States are big problems, and it’s going to take a lot of money and all of us working together to help solve them.
TRUST FOR PUBLIC LAND invites you to join us in thanking the following supporters.
We could not achieve our commitments to climate, equity, community, and health without their generous financial contributions to our mission and our work. Thank you for helping connect everyone to the outdoors.
Capital One is committed to partnering with TPL to build thriving, resident-centered communities that catalyze opportunity and promote well-being. From the Dallas Greening Initiative to the Major Taylor Trail in Chicago, Capital One is proud to support the development of welcoming, safe, and accessible outdoor spaces with TPL.
For funding TPL’s On Common Ground program, which is working to enhance social cohesion through community engagement and park-based activities across the country by supporting programs such as Welcome to Raleigh Parks in North Carolina as part of our ongoing commitment to connecting everyone to the outdoors.
Parks for People Renton, Washington
Community Schoolyards New York City & Newark, New Jersey
Parks & Trails Maine & Nationwide
Parks for People Boston, Massachusetts
Parks, Trails & Community Schoolyards Atlanta, Georgia; Chicago, Illinois; Dallas, Texas & Seattle-Tacoma, Washington
TPL Trails Initiative & Tribal Schoolyards Nationwide
TPL Trails Initiative Alabama, Georgia, Illinois, New York, Ohio, Pennsylvania & Tennessee
Judge Charles R. Rose Community Park Dallas, Texas
India Basin Waterfront Park San Francisco, California
Los Angeles Schoolyards Initiative Los Angeles, California
Adeep sense of nostalgia takes hold when you arrive at Camp Waskowitz. Nestled in the picturesque foothills of Washington’s North Cascades, it recalls the sleepaway camps of coming-of-age movies and young adult novels. The region is often referred to as the American Alps because of the stunning scenery.
That dramatic mountainscape surrounds the original cabins, built in 1935 and remarkably well preserved. The flowing water of the South Fork Snoqualmie River serenades trees draped with neon green moss. Rustic wooden signs with bright hand-painted lettering welcome you and provide directions across the camp. It’s nothing short of idyllic.
In 2024, Trust for Public Land conserved 345 forested acres at the camp, ensuring this treasured place remains accessible for generations of students and campers to discover nature and hone vital life skills. “The surrounding forest is integral to the feeling of a wilderness adventure,” says Laurie Benson, TPL’s Washington State conservation director, who was deeply involved in the effort to protect the landscape.
“It’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience for fifth graders who camp here,” says 17-year-old high school senior and camp leader Star Whiteley, who first visited the camp two years ago. “I just feel so comfortable being here.”
As a peer educator and camp leader at Waskowitz, Whiteley helps younger students feel comfortable here too. She’s made the hour-long journey from her home in Sea-Tac to Camp Waskowitz—now called Waskowitz Outdoor Education Center—almost a dozen times as a high school leader.
“My role is to encourage and uplift students on their education journey here,” says Whiteley. She leads groups on hikes, science lessons, and games. She’s also there to be a supportive peer, answering questions and calming fears to ensure everyone has a joyful time.
Throughout the four-day camp excursions—which take place during the regular school year in fall or spring—students explore outside, rain or shine. And no one is left out: Every fifth grader in the Highline School District south of Seattle is invited to the camp and outdoor school as part of the regular academic curriculum. In fact, Washington State covers the cost for any student who wants to attend through an organization called Outdoor Schools Washington.
That means introducing a lot of kids to hiking and camping for the first time. Highline has an extraordinarily diverse student body. There are notable populations who speak Spanish, Somali, Arabic, and Vietnamese—a total of 89 languages are
“It’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience for fifth graders who camp here.”
– STAR WHITELEY, CAMP LEADER AT WASKOWITZ OUTDOOR EDUCATION CENTER
spoken at home. Many of the students come from workingclass families, and after-school trips to parks are rare.
But regardless of background or familiarity with nature, the students find their connections to the wilderness and each other during their time at camp.
Whiteley, who describes herself as awkward and suffers from allergies, says she hated the outdoors before she was introduced to Camp Waskowitz. Then she discovered the calm of being immersed in the forest. “It’s so peaceful here; I will keep coming back here as much as I can.”
While high schoolers like her lead some activities, classroom teachers also morph into wilderness guides for the week, giving students the chance to see them in a different light. While learning about insects, wildlife, and the ecology of the woods, campers connect with their peers and teachers in a new way and develop leadership and communication skills. “It’s just a perfect way to dive into the deep end of making friends and building community,” Whiteley affirms.
Fifth graders visiting Waskowitz learn and live together in a way that’s more impactful than just going to school during the day. The outdoor education element provides these young students with opportunities for social-emotional learning along with science understanding.
When Yusuf, 10, struggled to hike up a steep hill because he’s afraid of heights, tears flowed down his face. “I was so high up, and then I got super scared,” Yusuf says. This was his first hike and his first time camping.
His classmates, however, didn’t make fun of him. They supported him with patience and encouraging words. The students understood that they couldn’t leave anyone behind, and to get up the hill, they needed to operate as a unit.
“When I grow up, I’m going to hike more. I love hiking and cabins now,” Yusuf shares.
The students reassured each other again as they crossed a 50-foot-long tension bridge that wobbled back and forth with each step. It’s a highlight for most of the campers, but the shaky walk traversing a stream can be equally nerve-racking and exhilarating.
One by one, students crossed the bridge, gripping both handrails for dear life. With each student who successfully traveled over, the cheer squad on the other side grew. “They were screaming until they were red in the face,” attests Dasol Lim, Yusuf’s teacher.
These moments build lasting bonds among students—and that closeness extends to their educators too. “I like my teacher more now,” says Yusuf, who also shares that seeing his instructor outside the classroom was fun.
“I’ve noticed that I’m joking around and laughing with them a lot,” adds Lim. She says quiet students become more comfortable making connections outdoors. “I feel like they’re able to thrive when they’re outside, and there are no walls
keeping them constrained,” explains Lim, who’s brought her students to the camp for the past three years.
She describes one of the loudest cheerleaders on the tension bridge as a student whose “personality often feels too big for the classroom.” At camp, that student was able to channel his energy to boost the confidence of his classmates. His enthusiasm was so infectious that even students who aren’t as outspoken joined in and boisterously rooted on their classmates.
“When I grow up, I’m going to hike more. I love hiking and cabins now.”
– YUSUF, A FIFTH-GRADE STUDENT AT WASKOWITZ OUTDOOR EDUCATION CENTER
“If we all had more opportunities to be outside and to feel that calm, grounding connection . . . I just think the world would be a better place.”
– MEREDITH VON TRAPP, DIRECTOR OF WASKOWITZ OUTDOOR EDUCATION CENTER
Lim adds that in a technology-driven world where kids are on their screens all the time, it can be harder to create spaces for students to cultivate community. “Being outside and removing technology allows students to make connections as human beings out in nature rather than through a screen,” she explains.
Those human connections, says Lim, give students a sense of belonging that makes them more excited to attend school afterward.
Students also walk away with a sense of responsibility toward nature, an understanding that “human interactions are impacting the natural world just like nature is impacting humans,” says Meredith von Trapp, director of Waskowitz Outdoor Education Center.
It starts with leave-no-trace lessons at lunchtime. If a napkin or food wrapper falls, you hear the students calling on their classmates to pick up after themselves.
In their end-of-camp surveys, students write things like, “I care so much about the environment now,” and “I’m excited to care for the land,” according to von Trapp.
“If we all had more opportunities to be outside and to feel that calm, grounding connection to the land while connecting to each other, I just think the world would be a better place,” she reflects.
The interpersonal connections both Lim and Von Trapp mention are especially significant given the increasing feelings of loneliness reported by young people. There is a strong body of evidence that supports time in nature as essential to our mental, emotional, and physical well-being—especially during childhood development.
And the growth students experience isn’t fleeting—it goes well beyond post-camp surveys. The lessons and memories stay with the former campers decades later.
A 10,000-member Facebook group of Camp Waskowitz alumni is filled with comments about visits as early as the 1950s. “I still remember Mr. Harry Lemon teaching us about the age of trees, in 1961,” wrote one alum on the page. Another member posted a picture of his license plate frame that reads, “I’d rather be at Camp Waskowitz.” And someone who was at the camp in 1972 wrote, “I absolutely loved it so much, I cried all the way home on the bus. This place was magical.”
Perhaps even more telling is that Camp Waskowitz alumni have gone on to become leaders in their communities. Alumni include former U.S. Secretary of the Interior Sally Jewell, former Washington Congressman and Governor Jay Inslee, and Washington State Superintendent of Public Instruction Chris Reykdal.
One of only a few overnight camps in the nation owned and operated by a public school district, Waskowitz is a rare site through and through: a place where outdoor education, environmental conservation, and historic preservation meet. It’s also a testament to the power of collaboration.
The camp was constructed by the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC), a Depression-era government work program that made a huge impact on parks nationwide. Waskowitz was used as a base for U.S. Forest Service projects in the Snoqualmie Valley area until 1942.
Highline Public Schools, in south King County, began sending students to Camp Waskowitz in 1947 and purchased the camp 10 years later. In 1993, it was added to the National Register of Historic Places. Every year, about 3,000 fifth-grade students attend its outdoor school.
But as in many beautiful places, development has inched closer to the site in recent years. This is where Trust for Public Land came in. Highline Public Schools tapped the organization to help protect the camp, and TPL successfully negotiated a $7.3 million conservation easement to save the land from development in perpetuity.
“It’s such an important experience for these kids,” says TPL’s Benson, “especially considering that the learning takes place in this magnificent forest. It’s an opportunity that a lot of these students just wouldn’t have otherwise, and for many, it can be life changing.”
In a collaborative effort that included the Mountains to Sound Greenway Trust and funding from King County, the arrangement means that the school district will continue running its outdoor education programs, and when school programs are not in session, the 300-plus acres of forest and trails will be open to the public. This newly established access is a direct result of the deal brokered by TPL. “It’s a win-win for outdoor education and public access,” says Benson.
“Not only is the land around the camp protected, but the funds generated from the conservation easement are going straight back to endow the camp,” she adds. “They’ll be used to help preserve the outdoor education facility and maintain the historic CCC buildings.”
Benson says the partnership aimed to “take as much of the burden off the school district as we possibly could.” She credits much of the effort’s success to the Jim Ellis Fund for Land Conservation, which was started by TPL and the Mountains to Sound Greenway Trust to invest in complicated, expensive, but high-impact projects in the area.
“Conservation is a team sport,” says Jon Hoekstra, executive director at the Mountains to Sound Greenway Trust. “We were all able to combine our strengths and capabilities to develop a project that’s really special and is going to make a huge difference for generations to come.”
In this way, TPL’s work goes far beyond land protection: It influences life interests and, potentially, career paths. Whiteley says she didn’t know what she was going to do after high school, but hiking with younger students at Waskowitz helped her find direction.
“I was just so happy being able to talk with fifth graders and [having] them look up to me that I told myself, ‘This has to be my lifetime goal, to be a teacher,’” she announces with a huge smile.
“This program is a way for us to continue relationships with those families and continue to connect them with nature.”
– DAYANA MOLINA, TPL COMMUNITY ORGANIZER
next level of building the next generation of stewards.”
The scenery doesn't hurt either: During spring months, the fields burst with bright yellow and purple wildflowers, attracting travelers from afar. In the fall, the hills glow in golden hues at sunset. In any season, nature puts on its best show.
“Camping was scary at first because I felt a bit clueless,” confesses a mom named Karla, who brought her 7-year-old son, Anthony, and 3-year-old daughter, Aniyah. Despite being the adult in her party, it was also Karla’s first camping trip.
But OBA staff are on hand and ready to show families how to set up their campsites, and the families leaned on each other and worked as a team. It eased some of the insecurity Karla mentions, knowing they were all in this new experience together.
From making barbacoa for dinner to roasting s’mores for dessert, campers began to loosen up. Kids played soccer in a clearing, and señoras sat chatting under shade trees until sunset. An uncle napped in a tent during some down time. As Molina puts it, “The families made this trip their own.”
While Fawcett’s immediate family lived on the property in the town of Tyringham year-round—his parents were schoolteachers and raised sheep in the summer—other cousins converged there during summers from New York and elsewhere. Like many country kids, they’d joust with stalks of jewelweed, swim in local ponds, wander the nearby forest, and search for shooting stars in the inky sky once the sun went down.
As the decades slipped by, the property, known as Fernside, remained much the same—a smattering of houses and barns surrounded by hundreds of acres of field and forest. The Berkshires were changing, however. The area has grown increasingly popular as a weekend destination for New Yorkers and Bostonians alike, drawn by its rural New England charms, as well as the renowned Tanglewood Music Festival. Those attributes spawned new houses and faster roads, while faded mill towns were reinvented with museums and craft breweries.
And so, after much discussion, the cousins decided to preserve this unspoiled corner of western Massachusetts. Working with TPL and other partners, members of the family reached an agreement on a complex set of transactions, protecting the land from development in perpetuity in a move that benefits the environment and local communities. The deal also preserves the experience of the Appalachian Trail—the first of America’s 11 national scenic trails—so that a hundred years from now, hikers will still be surrounded by sweeping pastoral landscapes and deep woods, not housing subdivisions.
“My generation had a really unique experience,” says Fawcett, who’s now 62. “In the 1960s and ’70s, we were all together here every summer. We spent a lot of time outdoors and became very close.”
His cousin, Hawley Truax, echoes that. “In retrospect, it was idyllic, but it was also just our reality,” he says of his early experience on the property. “It was a big place, and we had a tremendous amount of freedom. Our parents kept an eye [out], but we would spill out of doors in the morning, come in for meals, and entertain ourselves. We had our own little kids’ ecosystem.”
Those memories fueled a desire to protect the land and its legacy. First, in 2022, the family sold 258 acres that rise up behind their houses to the state Department of Conservation and Recreation. The land extended the boundaries of Beartown State Forest, a 12,000-acre expanse of woodlands laced with streams and trails. Last summer, they protected an additional 194 acres along the Appalachian Trail (or AT) with Trust for Public Land’s help.
That land still belongs to the family, but the National Park Service, which oversees the trail, now holds a conservation easement on the property, preventing all future development. Even the family, by their own agreement, can’t pursue any activities on a buffer area closest to the trail, whether gardening or adding a footpath. This complicated negotiation wouldn’t have been possible without TPL’s expertise and guidance.
“We dissected and finely tuned the easement terms, for months really, to ensure the AT’s boundary was protected and the family could continue to use the land in the same way that they have for generations, and even possibly reclaim some agricultural uses that have fallen by the wayside,” says Honor Lawler, the project manager for Trust for Public Land who helped bring the deal to fruition.
James Fawcett, John’s younger brother at 52, says the decision reflected a growing protectiveness his generation felt about the landscape. Once the property’s ownership passed to the cousins from their parents’ generation, the possibility of conserving the land started to pepper conversations at Thanksgiving and on long weekends.
“Ridgelines that used to just be forest are now dotted with homes; areas that were farms are no longer,” says James. “It’s easy to forget how quickly something you know and value can disappear. We realized that 20 years from now, we might see lots of lights instead of a forested hillside. Not that things need to be static, but where the landscape can be preserved in its natural state, that has always been of interest to us.”
The land protection in Tyringham fits in with TPL’s larger vision of conservation along the Appalachian Trail, which runs from Spring Mountain, Georgia, to the summit of Katahdin in Maine’s Baxter State Park. At 2,190 miles, it’s the longest hiking-only footpath in the world. About 3 million people enjoy a section of the trail a year. And 3,000 of those attempt to hike the entire length—a feat considered something of a rite of passage, and bragging right, for serious outdoor enthusiasts. A quarter of those achieve it.
Given that the trail traverses some of the most populated states in the nation along the Eastern Seaboard, its ambience
has suffered in areas. That’s because the trail itself forms a tight corridor in many places, with development able to creep right up to its borders.
Jim Pelletier, natural resources coordinator for the Massachusetts Appalachian Trail Management Committee, part of the Appalachian Mountain Club, says the corridor of the AT in Tyringham is unusually slender, with only about 400 to 500 feet officially protected. “What this addition did was augment the trail along the narrow corridor,” he explains. “This substantially adds to the protection of the trail as a place where you can have what feels like a wilderness backcountry experience.”
This substantially adds to the protection of the trail as a place where you can have what feels like a wilderness backcountry experience.”
– JIM PELLETIER, NATURAL RESOURCES COORDINATOR FOR THE MASSACHUSETTS APPALACHIAN TRAIL MANAGEMENT COMMITTEE
Stone walls like this one give the Fernside property—and nearby areas along the Appalachian Trail—a rustic feel. Proceeds from the easement and the sale of the state forest parcel will help the family maintain such features.
That big dose of history refers to the Shakers. Members of a religious group that lived communally, the Shakers shared tasks as they pursued a life of simplicity. They also practiced celibacy, and as such did not marry or have biological children. (Shaker communities gained members through conversion and often adopted orphaned children.) And they were known for their ecstatic dancing: thus the name “Shakers.” Their handmade furniture and utilitarian objects, widely admired for their austere lines, are still prized by collectors. In the 1800s, there were 20 Shaker communities with several thousand members. Today, just one survives: the Sabbathday Lake Shaker Village in Maine, with only two members as of 2024. Incidentally, TPL protected that 1,700-acre property from development in 2007, coordinating a deal that allowed for sustainable farming and low-impact recreation.
According to the National Park Service, the Tyringham Shaker Village, founded in 1792, was the fourth community established in Massachusetts. The land the cousins’ ancestor bought at the turn of the last century included a complex that was considered the center of the community. It also contains most of the surviving buildings. “The Great Barn, built in the 1790s, is a quintessential Shaker building—post and beam architecture with a gable roof, stone foundation, and a clapboard exterior,” the park service relates on its website.
During a period in the early 20th century when the property briefly fell to another landowner, some Shaker buildings either collapsed or were moved to other sites in town. But since 1929, the extended Fawcett-Truax family has taken pains to restore and preserve what remains. The one new structure built since then, aptly named the New House, was designed in the Shaker
style with traditional features ranging from stone piers to wrought-iron door latches. (Tellingly, John works in architecture and says growing up among the Shaker buildings and architecture of the Berkshires influenced his career choice.)
In addition to the Great Barn, the most striking Shaker buildings on the property are a cluster of imposing houses clad in clapboard and brick. But it’s the view that makes you stop in your tracks. Undulating hills as far as the eye can see, a quilt of ridges and vales, hayfields and conifer stands. And, of course, the silence. The Massachusetts Turnpike, part of Interstate 90, cut through the Berkshires in the 1950s, and while it emits a faint glow in the distance at night, its thrum is blessedly absent from the perch of Fernside. The only sounds: wind swirling around homes and farm buildings, punctuated by the buzzy trill of a black-capped chickadee.
The Shaker settlement in Tyringham is listed on the National Register of Historic Places, and while Jerusalem Road is a public thoroughfare, the property on either side of the road is private. (About 40 minutes north, visitors can explore Hancock Shaker Village, with 20 historic buildings and a working farm open for self-guided tours from April to December.)
The allure of the area goes beyond the Shaker settlement, however—and the AT is a huge part of the draw. The Appalachian Trail doesn’t just offer remarkable outdoor experiences; it provides local economies with a valuable attraction that supports nearby businesses. Consider the town of Lee, the closest community of any size—with a population of about 6,000—which relies on the AT and related recreation for its livelihood.
According to the Appalachian Trail Conservancy (ATC), every season brings thousands of tourists to the Berkshires in search of bucolic views and outdoor activities. The Lee Chamber of Commerce boasts offerings such as swimming and golf, a botanical garden, farm-to-table dining, and plenty of scenic drives. And among the tourists to places like Lee, the ATC claims, are “Appalachian Trail hikers looking for a resupply, hot showers, lodging, and something other than trail food.”
A study by the U.S. Department of Commerce’s Bureau of Economic Analysis found that outdoor recreation in Massachusetts generated $13.2 billion in value added to the state’s economy in 2023 and created 103,600 jobs—a boon that would likely diminish if the Appalachian Trail and its surroundings were infringed upon by the dense urban scenes and congested day-to-day that many visitors are looking to escape.
Beyond tourism, agriculture is also important to local economic health. From fresh dairy products to maple syrup, pick-your-own orchards to roadside produce stands, keeping the Berkshires rural is key to its charm. “The scenery is stunning,” says Horn. “What’s unique about this landscape is it has working farms and small pockets of agriculture interspersed with the mountains. You can be hiking in a heavily wooded area, and then you pop out into these beautiful farm fields and get to walk across a wide valley. It’s one of these places that makes you yearn for a quiet countryside setting.”
At Fernside, the Fawcetts’ sheep farm operated from 1962 to 2018, and the family hayed the fields for more than 50 years. Now, that work is performed by local farmers, who will also benefit from the property’s preservation.
Protecting their land was important to the Fawcett-Truax family for a variety of reasons, climate change among them. Their physical closeness to nature—as both enlisted farmhands and outdoor enthusiasts—has made the cousins especially attuned to the changes caused by a warming climate. Longer heat waves. Later frosts. Fewer opportunities to skate on local ponds. Even wildfires, once a rarity.
“We had a wildfire just about a month ago,” James observes. “It was near Great Barrington and Sheffield, but the smoke blew over into Tyringham Valley. That was scary.”
For his part, John has seen shifts in the flora on the family’s land. “We have spent a lot of continuous time here, and it’s very noticeable just the way the plant life has changed,” he observes. “We used to have a little spot along one stone wall where there was poison ivy, and now you see it all around.”
Scientists say poison ivy is, in fact, becoming more robust
as a result of climate change. In one large study in the 1990s, researchers pumped carbon dioxide—the main greenhouse gas fueling climate change—across multiple forest plots over a period of several years. The goal was to mimic atmospheric conditions projected for 2050. Vines flourished under the carbon-dioxide spritz, and poison ivy took the lead—growing 70 percent faster than plants without the extra CO2. It also became more toxic.
Climate resilience was a motivating factor for TPL’s involvement, too, as we know protected green spaces store carbon dioxide and help keep communities cool. A landmark study by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, for instance, found that heavily vegetated parks in Washington, DC, and Baltimore were at least 16 degrees cooler on a hot summer day in 2018 than other parts of the two cities.
As vice president for state affairs at the Environmental Defense Fund, Hawley has long been concerned about climate change, calling it “the inevitable reality of what we have wrought.” He adds, "It’s meaningful to have the Appalachian
It’s meaningful to have the Appalachian Trail as a resource connecting all of these natural areas along the East Coast.”
– HAWLEY TRUAX, FERNSIDE FAMILY MEMBER
Trail as a resource connecting all of these natural areas along the East Coast. It allows for the adaptation and migration of species, especially if you can add land that surrounds the trail.”
While 194 acres might sound diminutive in the grand scheme of the AT corridor, the Fernside property’s small size is one reason it’s special in Pelletier’s view: “Sometimes even a 40- or 50-acre parcel would add a lot of protection where the AT corridor is very narrow,” he says, lamenting the challenge of conserving smaller chunks of land along the trail.
He identifies the Tyringham area as important habitat for black bears, noting they come out of hibernation and fill up on skunk cabbage, which is prevalent in the spring. Pelletier says the forest also supports deer, coyotes, foxes, turkeys, and bobcats.
Horn agrees, calling the Appalachian Trail in this region a biodiversity hotspot for birds, mammals, and amphibians. “The section of the AT from Berkshire County all the way to northern New Jersey is about as important as it gets for keeping a connected landscape,” he says. “If we don’t preserve a
For the uninitiated, the act and culture of hunting can feel unrelatable and best kept at a distance. But a unique, if unexpected, partnership is upending that paradigm by breaking barriers and challenging stereotypes.
Ronda, Mai, and Andre knew they were disrupting norms by walking into nature with firearms in search of grouse. What they didn’t expect was how dramatically it would redefine their relationships with the outdoors and public land—and reshape their personal convictions.
All three participated in the Mentored Hunting program dreamed up by TPL's Nick Bancks and Keng Yang, a volunteer with Backcountry Hunters and Anglers (BHA) in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Designed to forge connections between new and experienced hunters who might not otherwise interact, the program starts with weeks of online education about hunting safety, ethics, and history, and it culminated with a weekend of firearms training and guided grouse hunting in Itasca State Park, about four hours north of the state capital.
These are their reflections—before, during, and after—in their own words.
Photos by Andy Richter
I call myself an adult-onset hunter.
I’m the son of Hmong immigrants who were subsistence hunters in Laos. But since I was growing up in the U.S., I rejected my family hunting tradition. I used to view hunters as people who only take from the landscape.
It wasn’t until I got my hunting dog in my late 20s that I gave it a try and came to realize that hunters are some of the biggest contributors to conservation, and they have a deep appreciation for wildlife, for the environment, and for the importance of one to the other.
An individual hunter might take one deer or one pheasant or one squirrel off the land, but hunters as a whole are always thinking about how to keep those species thriving in partnership with the landscape.
Once that realization crystalized, I had to question what other misconceptions I held. One of the biggest: that hunters are mostly white men. Popular media perpetuates that image. My lived experience challenges it.
I wondered if the American hunting community is more diverse—or eager to be—than I thought.
I’m glad I found Nick and that TPL and BHA joined forces to answer that question by bringing more people along on this journey of discovery.
I've been struggling with how we can make the outdoors more equitable and diverse here in Minnesota. This program is the answer. Talk about mission alignment and impact.
I hope . . . no, I believe what we’re doing can be a blueprint. After all, what good is public land if people don't feel safe, welcome, and empowered to enjoy it?
Our work to preserve these incredible places is made even more valuable because groups like BHA expose more people—more diverse people—to public land and teach them how to be stewards.
What have I gotten myself into?
I accepted an invitation to take part in a grouse hunt in northern Minnesota. Me, a city person. Or at least a city amenities person. Sure, I go hiking every chance I get. I love camping and being outdoors. I even have fantasies about living in the country, but that would require a shift in how I live day-to-day. I’m not ready to go there.
I’ll have to use a gun, or at least carry one. Guns make me uncomfortable. They have the ability to take life in an instant. I’ve never imagined myself taking the life of an animal, let alone having to dress it. They call it dressing even though what you’re really doing is undressing it. You’re stripping its “clothes.”
The fact that we call animals “game” is also conflicting for me. If I’m playing a game, there’s an agreement with my opponent. We've agreed to the rules. These grouse haven’t agreed to anything. It’s not a game to them.
When I think of hunters, my mind only sees those gripand-grin photos. Usually men, usually white, weapon in one hand, an animal in the other. They don't appear to value nature or animals the same way I do.
I wouldn’t have done this of my own accord. But my job at TPL is to collaborate with staff and partners to provide as many equitable opportunities to connect with nature as possible. I focus primarily on people of color who have been strategically left out. And in the realm of hunting, I figured that was me. I’m a Black woman. I primarily live in cities. I don’t really know many hunters. They’ve certainly never invited me to join, except fishing a couple of times.
I’m also not one to back away from first-time opportunities. I relish trying new things. It gives my mind a lot of ease that I’ll be doing this with other women and people of color who’ve never hunted, and that I don’t have to show up in any certain way to prove myself.
Deep breaths. Let’s see what I’m capable of.
Maybe this program will change my perceptions. Maybe it can it be a model for how TPL builds inclusivity in order to extend our impact on outdoor equity.
I hope . . . no, I believe what we're doing can be a blueprint. After all, what good is public land if people don't feel safe, welcome, and empowered to enjoy it? – Nick
I’ve been hunting for well over a decade, and I love it. But can I teach someone else to love it, especially someone like Ronda who isn’t even sure she’s ready to fire a gun?
We’ve never met in person, only over a video call a couple weeks ago. When Keng first asked if I’d do this, I assumed all the mentees were eager to hunt. It’s clear Ronda’s open to learning, but I don’t get the sense she’s intent on becoming a hunter.
I can relate because when I was younger, I loved animals, so I hated hunting. I saw the two as being in conflict. But I met some friends at church who were lifelong hunters, and they just said, "Let's go out." Little by little, I collected equipment and began to dabble more myself. I learned a lot by taking my stepson out. It's hard to bond with kids, especially a stepchild. It's even more awkward than regular parenting. We connected through hunting.
conservation ethics of hunting, so I easily said "yes" when he asked me to do this. But now I’m nervous.
My grandmother would flip out if she knew I was doing this. She thinks it’s not safe and not a woman’s role. Historically, in Hmong culture, it’s men who do the hunting. The women stay behind. They clean and cook the animals, but they don’t hunt them. I always felt left out. I wanted to bring in the meat or at least try it.
During COVID, I became even more interested in and conscious about where my food comes from. That’s when I started exploring hunting, but it’s really male dominated. I wished there was a space for women and women of color to learn how to hunt and where I’d feel safe.
I found this program through an online BIPOC community. I didn’t know anybody, but I signed up nine months ago and tried to recruit family and friends. I dragged my boyfriend along for the first program— a turkey hunt—and he really enjoyed it too. We’ve gone on turkey- and duck-hunting trips, but I’ve yet to get a bird. I’m not gonna lie; I’d like to catch one. I don’t know if I can truly call myself a hunter until I do.
RONDA]
Lots of orange. Lots of beards. That’s what I saw when I walked into the main cabin at the start of this weekend. We’d gathered to get to know each other over a spaghetti dinner. One man had a gun on his hip—at dinner! All I could think was these are not my people. Is that what they thought when they looked at me?
But then I remembered they’re not here to judge me; they’re here to embrace and welcome me into something they enjoy and hold dear. I owe it to them and to myself to remain open.
Validation. That’s what I felt this evening looking around the room at our second cohort of participants. We have men, women, and nonbinary mentees. We have white, Black, and Hmong mentors—some who’ve been hunting for decades and others who came to it in the past few years. A few have never even hunted this part of Minnesota or grouse. The only criteria for being a mentor is being comfortable hunting on public lands.
Most of the mentees seem excited. One or two are still nervous; I can tell. But I'm hopeful that we’ve paired them with mentors who will meet them where they are. Most importantly, we want everyone to feel empowered and that they belong here.
Most importantly, we want everyone to feel empowered and that they belong here. – Keng
I feel a lot of pressure. I like to think I’m a good hunter and that my dogs are good at it. But we mainly hunt pheasant on open prairie. This part of Minnesota is new to us. Will I be able to give Ronda a meaningful experience? And, for that matter, what will make it meaningful? How do I define success? How does she?
There are a lot of reasons this program is growing, but I think it boils down to one thing: representation. – Nick
When will I see myself as a hunter?
When will others, even though I look different?
What I like about what Keng and Nick are doing is that they’re bringing people together who normally don’t interact with each other. This community is welcoming. Just hearing these mentors’ stories and their passion and drive for building this community . . . I’m glad I can be part of that. This program makes me feel safe and welcome as a woman and a person of color.
There are a lot of reasons this program is growing, but I think it boils down to one thing: representation. This isn’t just about bringing in diverse mentees. It’s about pairing them with mentors across the identity spectrum.
It’s no wonder some of the first-time mentees still look a little nervous; they’ve been led to believe hunters are a monolith driven only by a trophy mentality. Hunters don’t necessarily do themselves any favors on social media. We’re here to set that record straight by widening the aperture of what’s real.
For most of us in the room, it’s not about bagging the biggest animal or the most. It’s not even about the harvest. It’s about the experience of being in nature, and seeing the land through different eyes or from a different angle than they have before. If the mentees don’t quite see that yet, I’m confident they will tomorrow.
I was anxious this morning. I didn't know what to expect of Andre, or what he would expect of me. But his calm, patient temperament was great for my nervous system. I was happy to learn that his philosophy is less about harvesting an animal and more about having an experience and connection to nature. I was concerned about being paired with someone who would be aggressive or overly instructive, but he’s none of those things. He’s quiet. So today, I was quiet too. And I was open to experiencing nature the way he does.
What a different and deeply immersive way to connect with nature.
I was energized by this morning’s brisk autumn air and the sharp aroma of wet pine. We could smell the dampness as we set out through the thick growth of the forest. I wasn’t prepared for the physicality of it. It’s nothing like hiking on a trail; we were bushwacking through dense forest and underbrush. It’s mental. You’re looking and listening for the animals to show you the way; you’re going toward them; you’re reading the landscape; you’re assessing the light and the wind for guidance; you’re trying to think like a bird.
We didn’t see any grouse today. Am I disappointed? No. Did it diminish the experience? Not one bit. Am I open to trying again tomorrow? Absolutely.
We came up empty today. Ronda says she’s not worried about seeing a bird, let alone getting one. But as a hunter and a mentor, I feel like it’s my job to at least present the opportunity. For me, as a hunter who has brought others along, I really think it's a bonus if you can get a new person to see it and to harvest something. I wanted that for Ronda.
Aside from learning how to hunt, the most important thing I’ve learned is that these public lands are out there waiting for us. – Mai
A few groups harvested birds today—grouse and woodcocks. Even the groups that came back empty-handed were thrilled for their cohorts and got to experience dressing, preparing, and eating the food for dinner. Sometimes people are hesitant with this, but I push them a little. Giving them an opportunity to hold and see the bird hopefully gives them a deeper respect for the animal and for hunting in and of itself.
There are a lot of movements around wholesome eating or eating organically, locally sourced. It's like, guys, instead of going to the store and looking for these labels or shipping in organic food, you can have organic, locally sourced food if you hunt near home on public lands. I work in waste reduction and prevention. A lot of waste is because we're not connected to our food. Hunters put a lot of effort into obtaining our food. If we understand that effort, we're going to learn not to waste.
My first thought when I woke this morning was fleeting: "Will we see any grouse today?" My second thought accompanied me all day: "If a bird presents itself, am I ready and willing to shoot?" Late this afternoon, I got the answer.
Today, I didn’t take a gun, and I let Ronda take the lead. Late in the afternoon, we had two flushes. The first grouse flew away. But the second one landed in a tree several yards away. Ronda saw it. She raised her gun. She quietly asked me if she should take the shot, and in that moment, I felt like a good mentor. “Up to you,” I said.
I mounted the gun. I had the grouse in sight. I remember thinking, “What a great way to conclude the weekend.” I felt incredibly ready. So I pulled the trigger.
Click.
It didn’t fire. I looked down at the gun and instantly realized it was my mistake. I either didn’t push the pin the right direction, or I didn’t pack the shell correctly. The bird flew away. My heart sank.
There’s no antibiotics. There’s no filler. It’s all pure game, and it delicious—harvestedwason public land. – Ronda
Aside from learning how to hunt, the most important thing I’ve learned is that these public lands are out there waiting for us. The whole idea of public lands . . . I never really thought of them as being for hunting.
I still haven’t harvested anything, but something happened today that made me realize I am a hunter. We were driving and noticed a slight opening in the woods. Directly across the road from it was another opening. We could tell that was a deer trail, and we knew it was the path the deer regularly take to get to a food or water source. We've become aware of roosting environments. Now we see those things everywhere.
I still consider myself an environmentalist, but I didn’t let my bias get in the way of trying something new. And now my friends are expressing interest in hunting. I know what Keng and Nick are doing: They’re trying to turn us into mentors.
I’m a newbie, but . . . even just participating in some of these hunts, now I consider myself a hunter.
I thought the sting of my missed shot would last longer, but I released my disappointment after a few minutes. The question I had going into this wasn’t whether I would harvest a grouse. The question was whether I’d be willing to take the shot. Would I open myself up enough to the experience, to the discomfort, to this different way of connecting with nature?
Now I have the answer.
Ronda and I were only together for a day and a half, but I saw her evolve in that time from being content just to walk in
the woods to having a true, deep desire to harvest the grouse.
Even though there was some regret that the bird flew away, there was also a sense that it didn’t matter because the moment itself was enough. The moment when she was able to make the transition from uncertain to certain that she was ready.
We need more people like Ronda who seek more insight about something before they judge it. Whether it’s hunting or religion or politics or ethnic groups. I think we could solve the world’s problems if we all did that.
This story was compiled and edited by TPL Editorial Director Deborah Williams. To hear more about this experience, check out episode 14 of our podcast, People. Nature. Big Ideas. Visit tpl.org/podcast.
We need more people like Ronda who seek more insight about something before they judge it. – Andre
by Drs. Pooja Tandon and Danette Swanson Glassy
“Digging into Nature is a treasure—an engaging read that’s part health-focused parenting guide, part nature handbook. The authors, including TPL Health Director Dr. Pooja Tandon, blend their clinical expertise with creative activities, reflections, and fascinating nature nuggets, making the science of the outdoors approachable. They break down concepts like how trees cool cities while offering fun, straightforward ways to bring more nature into daily life: outdoor crafts, celebrations, and simple time outside. This book is a powerful reminder of the many health and characterbuilding benefits of outdoor time. It’s my go-to gift for new parents, but also a must-read for parents of kids of all ages and anyone looking to strengthen their connection with nature.”
Vanessa Martin, Senior Director of Communications, Trust for Public Land
Learn how TPL community schoolyards are creating high-quality outdoor learning spaces for kids on page 14.
Creative by
Florence Williams
“I've always felt better when I'm outside, but I didn’t realize there was scientific evidence to support this feeling until I read The Nature Fix by TPL National Board Member Florence Williams. It turns out that a wealth of data and research highlights the positive effects that nature can have on the human brain . In our increasingly digital world, Williams emphasizes
how the outdoors can significantly impact our health, wellness, and the quality of our relationships.”
Sloan Rios, Associate Director of Field Marketing, Trust for Public Land
See page 18 and visit tpl.org/happiest outside for ways to connect with nature.
by Ayana Elizabeth Johnson
“This New York Times bestseller, written by a marine biologist, is a collection of interviews, poems, and essays putting forward a hopeful vision for a just, equitable, and climate-smart future. Featured voices include a variety of important viewpoints, from environmental experts and farmers to advocates, architects, and investors. It’s very well written, approachable, and includes sections on nature-based solutions, the built environment, and more. Check out the NPR Book of the Day podcast episode on it for more insights from the author.”
Taj Schottland, Associate Climate Director, Trust for Public Land
For more on hope and its importance to our future, see page 64.
“I grew up in Venezuela, and as kids, we would meet our friends and go ride bikes. We would ride anywhere and everywhere, and it gave us a sense of wonderment. I watched this series about an experiment at a school in Sussex, England, where they took kids’ phones away for 21 days. They put the phones in a transparent box at the entrance to the school, and kids were
having withdrawal and throwing tantrums. These were mostly 12-yearolds. After a few days, they started reporting positive feelings, saying, ‘I’m less anxious. I sleep better. I'm talking with my friends. I get bored, so I go outside and do things.’ The teachers reported more eye contact, more enthusiasm and engagement in class. Students were connecting. It’s a good lesson and reminder for all of us to get outside and off our devices more— and to help young people do that too.”
Yvan Lemoine, Chef, Small-Business Owner, Queens resident
Turn the page to hear from Yvan about how TPL's work on the QueensWay will bring nature to his New York community. channel4.com
“This is a BBC food podcast that I love. Their slogan is, ‘Investigating every aspect of the food we eat,’ and they cover a lot of issues. Episodes look at everything from community gardens and AI in the food industry to how experiencing food can be different for neurodivergent people, or those on the autism spectrum. They also have a whole collection of clips exploring ingredients from the Ark of Taste, which is a biodiversity program by the Slow Food Foundation to raise awareness about—and hopefully save— foods that are coming close to extinction. It gives you a global perspective on what's happening in the food world. It’s phenomenal.”
Jennifer Steverson, Former Community Gardens Program Coordinator, Austin Parks and Recreation Department
To learn more about community gardening, see page 18. bbc.co.uk/programmes/ b006qnx3
After numerous community feedback sessions, residents get to see their ideas come to life in QueensWay renderings like this one.
New York City is a place of abundance, but if there’s one thing that’s hard to come by, it’s green, carbon-free transportation routes that connect people to schools, work, and commerce. In Queens, such a place will be mythical no more: TPL is working with partners and local communities to build the QueensWay, a 47-acre park and trail along 3.5 miles of abandoned rail line in the heart of this diverse borough. For resident Yvan Lemoine, a chef, small-business owner, and father, having nature nearby will mean a healthier, happier life for his family and his neighbors.
By Yvan Lemoine
My journey back to Queens was circuitous. My family moved here from Venezuela when I was a teenager, so I spent my formative years in Queens. The high school I attended had a culinary program, and I knew I wanted to be a chef. Feeding people makes me happy. I’ve lived and cooked in the Bronx and Long Island and in Manhattan too.
My wife and I have friends who owned a restaurant in Queens, in Forest Hills, and they wanted to retire. They were a little bit older, and COVID had hit them really hard. So we bought their business and came back to where I grew up. We took a chance on Queens.
That was four years ago. Now, our business—which is a restaurant, event space, and catering service—is growing and
OUR MISSION: TRUST FOR PUBLIC LAND CREATES PARKS AND PROTECTS LAND FOR PEOPLE, ENSURING HEALTHY, LIVABLE COMMUNITIES FOR GENERATIONS TO COME.
As a Trust for Public Land member, you’re a leader in the movement to create healthier, more resilient, and more equitable communities for all. Together, we’re connecting everyone to the outdoors.
Since 1972, supporters like you have helped protect 4 million acres of public land; create more than 5,500 parks, trails, schoolyards, and iconic outdoor places; raise over $110 billion in public funding for parks and public lands; and connect nearly 10 million people to the outdoors. Our work depends on the generous contributions of people like you.
Land&People magazine is a benefit to members of Trust for Public Land.
Renew your membership today:
Our Mission:
Donate
Use the envelope inside this magazine or visit tpl.org/land&people to make an additional gift.
Match
Many employers match donations made to nonprofit organizations. Ask your workplace if they participate and sign up to start doubling your impact today.
When you’ve finished reading this issue, pass it on! Or give a gift subscription to Land&People by making a donation on behalf of someone special.
For questions about our work, call 800.714.5263 or email donor.outreach@tpl.org
Trust for Public Land is a registered 501(c)(3) public charity. Because we spend so little to connect everyone to the outdoors, TPL is one of the country’s top-rated nonprofit organizations. Explore our standings at tpl.org/stewardship.
A copy of our latest financial report may be obtained by writing to The Trust for Public Land, 23 Geary St., Suite 1000, San Francisco, CA 94108. Telephone number (415) 495-4014. The Trust for Public Land has been formed to facilitate the transfer of privately held land into protective public and not-for-profit ownership, and to promote other ways to ensure healthy livable communities for generations to come. If you are a resident of one of these states, you may obtain financial information directly from the state agency: FLORIDA – A COPY OF THE OFFICIAL REGISTRATION AND FINANCIAL INFORMATION MAY BE OBTAINED FROM THE DIVISION OF CONSUMER SERVICES BY CALLING TOLL-FREE, 1-800-435-7352 (800-HELP-FLA) WITHIN THE STATE OR VISITING www.800helpfla.com. REGISTRATION DOES NOT IMPLY ENDORSEMENT, APPROVAL, OR RECOMMENDATION BY THE STATE. Florida Registration number CH104; GEORGIA – A full and fair description of the programs of (The Trust for Public Land) and our financial statement summary is available upon request at the office and phone number indicated above; MARYLAND – For the cost of copies and postage, Office of the Secretary of State, State House, Annapolis, MD 21401; MISSISSIPPI – The official registration and financial information of (The Trust for Public Land) may be obtained from the Mississippi Secretary of State’s office by calling 1-888-236-6167. Registration by the Secretary of State does not imply endorsement; NEW JERSEY –INFORMATION FILED WITH THE ATTORNEY GENERAL CONCERNING THIS CHARITABLE SOLICITATION AND THE PERCENTAGE OF CONTRIBUTIONS RECEIVED BY THE CHARITY DURING THE LAST REPORTING PERIOD THAT WERE DEDICATED TO THE CHARITABLE PURPOSE MAY BE OBTAINED FROM THE ATTORNEY GENERAL OF THE STATE OF NEW JERSEY BY CALLING (973) 504-6215 AND IS AVAILABLE ON THE INTERNET AT http://www. state.nj.us/lps/ca/charfrm.htm. REGISTRATION WITH THE ATTORNEY GENERAL DOES NOT IMPLY ENDORSEMENT; NEW YORK – Office of the Attorney General, Department of Law, Charities Bureau, 120 Broadway, New York, NY 10271; NORTH CAROLINA – FINANCIAL INFORMATION ABOUT THIS ORGANIZATION AND A COPY OF ITS LICENSE ARE AVAILABLE FROM THE STATE SOLICITATION LICENSING BRANCH AT 1-888-830-4989. THE LICENSE IS NOT AN ENDORSEMENT BY THE STATE; PENNSYLVANIA – The official registration and financial information of (The Trust for Public Land) may be obtained from the Pennsylvania Department of State by calling tollfree, within Pennsylvania, 1-800-732-0999. Registration does not imply endorsement; VIRGINIA – Virginia State Office of Consumer Affairs, Department of Agricultural and Consumer Services, P.O. Box 1163, Richmond, VA 23218; WASHINGTON – Charities Division, Office of the Secretary of State, State of Washington, Olympia, WA 98504-0422, 1-800-332-4483; WISCONSIN – a financial statement of (The Trust for Public Land) disclosing assets, liabilities, fund balances, revenue, and expenses for the preceding fiscal year will be provided upon request; WEST VIRGINIA – Residents may obtain a summary of the registration and financial documents from the Secretary of State, State Capitol, Charleston, WV 25305. Registration with any of these state agencies does not imply endorsement, approval or recommendation by any state.
A recently retired member of TPL’s Executive Leadership team— who’s also a physician and an epidemiologist—on the topic of hope and why it’s so important to our future.
By Dr. Howard “Howie” Frumkin
The planet is warming, species are going extinct, weather disasters are regular occurrences, and key resources are becoming scarce in many places. These changes threaten human health in far-reaching ways. Beyond the direct impacts, there is a less obvious casualty: hope.
Hope is very much a health concern. There is considerable reason to believe that hope promotes well-being, and that hopelessness is toxic. Evidence suggests that hopeful people feel better, weather stress more successfully, and live longer— even when diagnosed with serious diseases.
Hopelessness, on the other hand, is associated with increased risk of hypertension, cancer, anxiety, depression, and cognitive decline. Among young people, hopelessness predicts violent behavior, substance abuse, and early sexual activity. Little wonder that hope has been called a therapeutic tool. Nevertheless, we often overlook its power—and underrate it as a health asset.
Perhaps that’s because hope is an elusive concept to define, and one that’s often conflated with optimism. But hope and optimism are different. Psychiatrists have written, “Optimism is an individual’s confidence in a good outcome, whereas hope is a goal-oriented way of thinking.” Similarly, environmental thinker David Orr writes, “Hope is a verb with its
sleeves rolled up. Hopeful people are actively engaged in defying the odds or changing the odds.” This underscores that action is intrinsic to hope.
What about hopelessness? Commonly equated with despair, hopelessness seems to dominate contemporary discourse. For example, recent years have seen an explosion in “doomer” genres such as climate fiction, or “cli-fi,” which serves up films, books, and stories brimming with apocalyptic imagery. Novelist Jonathan Franzen, for example, writes: “The climate apocalypse is coming. To prepare for it, we need to admit that we can’t prevent it.”
And popular media foregrounds climate anxiety, despair, and hopelessness. Some young people are forgoing higher education, believing that the impending climate catastrophe makes it pointless (one slogan is “Why should I study for a future I won’t have?”) or opting not to have children—one of the most elemental expressions of human hope. In a 2021 survey of 10,000 people ages 16 to 25 across 10 nations, 75 percent endorsed the statement that the future is frightening and 56 percent that humanity is doomed.
So how do we shift our viewpoints away from this feeling?
The counternarrative is hope. Embracing hope has many advantages. One is simply that hopeful people feel better than hopeless people. A second is that hope leads to action— and addressing the climate crisis demands action. A third is that hope is empirically justified. Technology is advancing