In August 2021, despite a heatwave and wildfire smoke, around 100 BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People of Color) campers of all ages came out to spend a long weekend at Refuge Outdoor Festival at Squire Creek Park near Darrington. Participants  took workshops, participated in a silent disco, attended a partners market, and most importantly, had the opportunity to build community and connect in person.

Refuge Outdoor Festival is a three-day camping experience that is geared for BIPOC and centered around “building community through outdoor recreation, conversations, music, and art.” Chevon Powell, the founder of Golden Bricks Events, the company behind Refuge Outdoor Festival, started Refuge four years ago out of a desire to see more people of color outside recreating and creating community.

In the last year and a half, Chevon has pivoted and redesigned her programming from a very in-person focused event to a virtual one, calling it a “camp-in.” With some COVID restrictions changing in Washington, the most recent Refuge Festival was held in-person for the first time since 2019.

We recently had a chance to connect with Chevon after a whirlwind of a year. Read our conversation below to learn more about the upcoming virtual event for Refuge, what the future looks like for the festival, and more!

What was your favorite part about the most recent Refuge Fest?

We had someone named Pablo just show up at our table and they came over and said, “hey, can I help y’all?” and we said sure! Pablo took over, they became the raffle MC and were truly the best raffle caller. At our closing circle their word was “happy.” To have a young kid in the woods just out their doing their thing, it brought a lot of joy. Pablo was doing the most out there.

What can people expect at the upcoming virtual Refuge event September 17-19? Highlights?

This one is going to be really cool. I think you know just the way the world is working now, that advocacy has become a hot topic in the community. And making sure that when we talk about outdoor recreation we are also talking about advocacy. We have workshops on how to build a digital toolkit around advocacy, another workshop around social justice resourcing. And we also have a workshop with someone talking about low tides that we went out and filmed at Alki a few weeks ago. We have an artist out of Philly who will be performing on Saturday and they’re dropping the videos for their EPs via Refuge. So that’s really cool.

And the DJ battle is so much fun! It’s fun to bounce between rooms and hang out with different folks. That’ll be a lot of fun.

I assume that you’re not leading all of these, right?

Oh no, definitely not! The beautiful thing is that we did a call to the community and between our sponsors and partners I think we have about 15 [really cool] workshops plus over the weekend. We’ll be behind the scenes making sure that the community is safe—safety is a big thing. I’ll get to watch the recordings afterwards, everything we recorded I went back last year and watched again.

And you’re expecting people from across the country, right?

Yes! Last year we had folks from across about 20 states which was just the most bizarre and random thing—everywhere from Wyoming to Kentucky. Last year I crashed the Black affinity space and there were three Black women from North Carolina talking about linking up afterward. They were saying, “you go hiking? I want to go hiking with you! We’re only two hours away from each other, let’s make it happen.” So I’ll probably crash things like that.

You have a goal of getting 10,000 people of color outside. How has that been going?

We kind of paused it with COVID, and we’re trying to reassess and figure out how to get a better count especially since we aren’t always there with people. With people engaging with us last year and the previous years we are at over 3,000 POC. We’re excited that our outreach continues to grow and that’s also the struggle [as a small organization].

Just the presence of Refuge has inspired people to get outside. Last year, right before we were heading into lockdown, I was in a pitch competition for a local organization called InnoVentures. After I gave my pitch, the MC who was also in the room, she said, “Chevon you don’t know me but I know you.” She went into saying how for the last few years she’s followed Refuge and she started crying and said it’s inspired her to get outside with her kids, she said hasn’t been able to make it to our events, but just seeing that we’re around and the way that we speak about the outdoors is for everyone has been super inspiring and had touched her pretty deeply.

How can other organizations assist Refuge?

We are always looking for partner organizations. We are starting to consider what it looks like to partner with organizations to do smaller one-offs for communities and a really targeted experience. We’re looking at that for next year and continuing to build our relationships and partnerships so that our reach does get to all people so that we can get them outside.

Not everyone is afforded the luxury to get outside, but are we creating opportunities for them to be able to connect with nature? That’s going to be our thing moving forward and that’s why this year alone we had thirty video projects. Even though we couldn’t get outside together or get outside with the folks we’ve touched across the country, we can create content and we can have you experience the outdoors from your living room.

Do you need volunteers? If people can’t volunteer their time, can they volunteer their money?

Yes, our donation link is always live! And we do have an open call for volunteers ongoing. Because yes, we have the virtual programming that we need support for, but then we are also growing as an organization. Like sometimes I don’t have the monetary resources to for example, redo the website, but if someone wants to volunteer to support that happening, that’s great.

For virtual, we are looking for about ten more volunteers and that’s just helping with chat. Having folks moderate the chat is a way to make our community feel safe.

Is there a future of Refuge outside of Washington?

Yeah that’s something that’s really exciting! Last year we were thinking we were going to expand in 2020, but 2020 told us all different things. We are looking to stay with our current program into 2022. In 2023 we’re hoping to expand Refuge to places like California and the east coast. I always looked at it as a more in your backyard event, because Refuge’s biggest thing is making the community and building the connections and yes you can do that by flying to another place and meeting folks, but how much more impactful if it was like people who live 15 minutes or two hours from each other. It’ll be a much broader impact when it’s like that.

We have had people run into each other. In fact, one woman from Seattle ran into someone she met at Refuge in a coffee shop in Oakland! That’s dope.

How do you approach creating partnerships and relationships?

It takes a lot of work. One of the things that we’re considering when we’re looking at [Refuge] is how are we better in community? And how are we connected in those communities? Refuge in Seattle is the flagship and has a community advisory board, from people all over the country.

In other cities I have started having conversations with folks about building community advisory boards there because we want to be connected to the community and I can’t do that because I am not there. And I don’t have the capacity to build the level of community that I think Refuge needs in each community and I don’t want to, it’s important that each city has that. I can’t lead in a community that isn’t mine. I’ve found that as you’re in community you’re always learning and growing and moving in different ways because if you’re staying still you’re not doing it in community, you’re just doing a thing.

As you’ve wrapped the fourth Refuge Festival what are some lessons you’ve learned?

One of the lessons is being present. Being present in the community and they’ll tell you what they want and how they want it. I also think active listening is a big one and then learning publicly. We’ve had to learn publicly and had to apologize publicly for things that we’ve done wrong—that’s a huge lesson for me. This is a big shocker, but I am very much an introvert and when I started Refuge I wouldn’t even tell people why I was starting it, like my own individual story. I wouldn’t talk to people in public, that terrified me. I would be in the corner, even if I was with a bunch of people.

I’ve had to step into my own power more than I ever thought. When I was first called on stage at an event at REI I was in tears because I was having a panic attack. To go from that to where I am today like, “yeah, I’ll keynote, let’s do this!” is big.

It’s the big life lessons to take those steps to do it and knowing why you’re doing it. I do it for the community and I do it for the change that I want to see. It’s not all just about outdoor recreation and conservation, we’re all on this planet together so let’s come together and get it together. That’s why I do the work that I do.

Interested in learning more about Refuge or attending the upcoming virtual event? You can learn more on their site. 

This episode of Outside Voices is brought to you by REI, your local outdoor co-op working to help you experience the power of nature. REI brings top-quality gear and apparel, expert advice, rental equipment, inspiring stories of life outside and outdoor experiences to enjoy alone or share with your friends and family. Stay tuned for a conversation with Yanira Castro and Ladan Yalzadeh, as they talk about REI’s newest initiative: Race and Place.

Music:

“Cooling” by Audiobinger from http://freemusicarchive.org
License: CC BY-NC 4.0

“Pumkin Spice” by Audiobinger from http://freemusicarchive.org
License: CC BY-NC 4.0

Photos:

From top left to top right:
[Photo of Chevon and her parents at the 2019 Refuge Festival, taken by Sarah Shimazaki after recording a conversation for Outside Voices]

[Group photo of smiling Refuge participants dressed in cold-weather gear on a grassy lawn, photo provided by Chevon and Refuge]

[Candid photo of Refuge participants during a workshop, photo provided by Chevon and Refuge]

[Candid photo of Refuge participants gathering for a workshop on storytelling and place and belonging, particularly centered on stories from Mauna Kea in Hawai’i. A Hawaiian flag hangs in the background. Photo provided by Chevon and Refuge]

From bottom left to bottom right:
[Photo of Refuge participants walking across a bridge, photo provided by Chevon and Refuge]

[Photo of Chevon wearing a yellow beanie, Refuge t-shirt and smiling for a selfie on a bridge, photo provided by Chevon and Refuge]

[Photo of smiling Refuge participants, from left to right: Esmeralda, our intern, Bam and Karen, two friends and Sarah Shimazaki in an orange beanie.]

[Photo of Chevon’s parents and their friends walking around the campsite together, photo provided by Chevon and Refuge]

September 10, 2020

Refuge Outdoor Festival is returning on September 18-20th, and you won’t want to miss it! Golden Bricks Events launched their 3-day outdoor camping, recreation and music experience geared toward Black, Indigenous, people of color, and white allies in 2018 in Carnation, WA. Due to the pandemic, the 2020, Refuge Outdoor Festival will be going virtual, with workshops, group discussions, live music and performances, and thoughtful programming throughout to make this end of summer festival dope as ever!  

I (Caitie K.) chatted with founder of Golden Bricks Events and visionary of Refuge Outdoor Festival, Chevon Powell, about why this festival is so important to the community this year, the benefits of going online, and what she’s stoked about for this 2020 Festival. 

Early in the pandemic, the Refuge Outdoor Festival team was hopeful that an in-person event would be possible, but by May it became obvious in-person events wouldn’t be happening and the team was debating a virtual event. Then, during the second week of protests following George Floyd’s murder, a friend told Chevon they wished they had a refuge. And with that, the debate about whether or not to go virtual was over. Chevon reflected: “Refuge Outdoor Festival is all about community, being connected, and having a different type of experience in a safer way for a weekend. We just felt with the pandemic and multiple uprisings it was important to us to still have this space available for people to be in community with like-minded folx.” 

Another deciding factor was the need to continue to hold space for and provide representation of people of color in the outdoors. Chevon explains, “A lot of newer folx are getting engaged in the outdoors and there is still this conversation that people of color aren’t a part of the outdoors, and that is just not true. So, to put on something like Refuge and say, we’re here, we’re still here, we’re going to keep being here, and we’re going to keep creating our spaces, so that no one feels like they are alone in this.” 

I am ecstatic that Chevon and the Golden Bricks Events team decided on moving forward with the virtual event, which has been curated with a lot of thought, intentionality, and joy, and I can’t wait to attend!  Attendees are also able to design their own schedule by selecting workshops and discussions. 

 
Here is a look at my Friday schedule: 

2:30 pm: Birding 101 + Interview with Girl Trek   

4:30 pm: How Disability Justice Will Build Caring Communities  

6:30 pm: Community Gathering: Welcome + Interactive cooking demonstration + Dinner breakout groups 

8:30 pm: Black Reel-ness: 2 films created by Black filmmakers: Pedal Through and Royaltee 

 
My Saturday and Sunday schedules are also packed with rad workshops on bikepacking, a non-Black POC affinity group, Building a Healing Toolkit for BIPOC, live music from Gretchen Yanover and a performance by Dakota Camacho, and so much more.  

View the full Friday-Sunday schedule offerings here. 

With the festival going virtual, Chevon is hoping to reach more folx geographically and bring this people of color-centered outdoor community to others who might not have this nearby. “That’s the beauty of technology, that we do have the ability for someone in Florida who wants to participate, because there aren’t many options close to them for people of color in the outdoors to gather in these sorts of ways.”  

One of the things Chevon is most excited about for Refuge Outdoors Fest is the opportunity to include more workshop leaders from different parts of the country. “We can tap people’s knowledge from outside of Seattle which is super exciting and adding to the diversity of what Refuge is.”  One of the leaders is Danielle Stickman, of Dena’ina and Koyukon Athabascan descent who currently lives in Alaska. Danielle recently traveled to the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge on the Hulahula River. She will discuss the history of the Arctic Refuge and the need to protect the Coastal Plain from future oil and gas drilling. She will also discuss Indigenous Inupiat and Gwich’in Peoples who live in and around the Arctic Refuge and have been stewards of the land since time immemorial.  

“Refuge is anything to which one has recourse for aid, relief, or escape” and right now, during a pandemic and a national reckoning for racial justice, we are all in need of refuge. It doesn’t matter if you’re new to the outdoors, an expert, or just want to be in community with others, all are welcome to this 2-night camp-in event geared toward Black, Indigenous, people of color, white allies welcome. “Imagine a family reunion, summer camp, and rejuvenating retreat rolled into one. This festival is a safer space for all participants [with] community conversations and nightly concerts” from the comfort of your home. Tickets are on a sliding scale with full scholarships available for communities of color. And, even if you can’t attend, you can still donate to support this community celebration via the registration link below. 

SAVE THE DATES Sept 18-20, checkout the Festival and register (and/or donate) here  today! 

by Kimberly Goode

Chevon Powell’s love for the outdoors started at a young age. At three years old, she stepped onto the grounds at Camp Janus and knew she had discovered a place unlike any other in her life. Based in Houston, this camp is for burn survivors. And for Powell, it was a refuge. She was surrounded by people who looked like her and was free from the stares her scars regularly attracted.

“Camp was where I would get the most healing in a year,” Powell said. “I survived the year to go to camp. It was that impactful for me.”

Powell returned to those wooded campgrounds throughout her childhood, canoeing the lakes, adventuring along the trails, and exploring a transformative connection to nature. In the outdoors she could be herself without fear of judgment.

“Nature does not discriminate or treat me badly,” she said. “I can just be.”

Powell found her identity among nature’s thick trees and flowing waters, but as an African American woman she discovered that others had a harder time claiming these spaces. Many people of color have had difficulty experiencing those feelings of freedom in nature, finding public parks and trails less than welcoming and inclusive.

A 2018 report by the Outdoor Industry Association found participants in outdoor recreation are disproportionately white, with African-Americans accounting for just 9 percent, while Asian-Americans and Hispanics make up 10 percent and 6 percent respectively. Access to equipment, transportation challenges, a history of systemic discrimination, and a narrative dominated by white voices have left communities of color on the margins of outdoor recreation conversations. Powell wants to change that.

“We have been told for so long by the outdoor industry that it’s white and that it’s male and you are going to conquer something,” said Powell. “But that is not what we all do.”

On her way to a solo backpacking trip along the Appalachian Trail in Vermont, Powell was pulled over by the police. When she told the officer that she was there for outdoor recreation, he said her story was “unbelievable” and called for backup.

The experience motivated her to change the narrative around people of color and the outdoors. She surveyed her friends and family to find how they would like to engage in outdoor activities. A festival rose to the top of the list, so she started making plans for the first Refuge Outdoor Festival back in her home in the Pacific Northwest.

Refuge began in 2018 and is a three-day camping experience designed for people of color. Through workshops, facilitated conversations, art, and music, the festival celebrates diversity in the outdoors while creating spaces for healing, reminiscent of Powell’s own experiences back at Camp Janus.

Located at Tolt-MacDonald Park & Campground in Carnation, the festival is open to anyone — total novices and self-proclaimed outdoor enthusiasts, people of color and allies, children and adults. And there is something for everyone. Attendees can participate in a range of activities, from yoga and mountain biking classes, silent discos and meditation sessions, to workshops on camping basics and conversations about indigenous connections to the land.

Many of Refuge’s offerings are led by representatives from groups working toward diversity and inclusion in outdoor spaces year-round. The festival’s community partners include groups like GirlTrek, a civil-rights inspired health movement that promotes healing for African-American women through walking; Outdoor Asian, an organization connecting Asian & Pacific Islander communities to nature through trips and advocacy; and Latino Outdoors, a network promoting the stories of Latino communities in the environment and conservation. By bringing together these partners, the festival highlights the growing number of identity-affirming groups that are inviting people of color to explore their passions and, in doing so, change the face of outdoor recreation together.

Refuge sparked Jolyn GC’s interest in the outdoors. She attended the festival during its inaugural year with her mom and younger sister, and a bird walk completely changed her perspective. She came with a longtime fear of birds and left with a fascination for searching for sap lines in the trees and listening for the variety in bird calls.

“It was completely unexpected,” she said. “During that walk, it felt like the birds were showing up for me. It was like they were saying, ‘You are welcome out here.’ They were nature’s little cheerleaders.”

GC admits that had she seen a flyer for a bird walk in downtown Seattle she would have walked right by, assuming it was for another audience. But at the festival, it’s different.

“At Refuge, everything is for me. It is designed with me in mind.”

This year’s festival will take place September 27–29 at Tolt-MacDonald Park & Campground. Weekend Festival Passes are $110 for adults and $45 for youth 9 to17 years old. Children under 8 are free. A variety of sleeping accommodations are available, from tent to yurt. For more information visit refugeoutdoorfestival.com.

Amber Reimondo is the Energy Program Director at the Grand Canyon Trust in Flagstaff, Arizona. Follow her on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook.

“With the hard work of tribes, partner NGOs, and community members, permanent protection for the Grand Canyon region from uranium mining has made more progress than ever before. This year has been a reminder that nothing important comes easily, but together, with persistence and patience, we can make important progress.”

Conservation Northwest / Oct 04, 2018 / Events

Restorative and centering. Challenging and rewarding. Healing and peaceful. Human experience and self-discovery.

By Heather Hutchison, Membership and events associate

These were words and feelings shared last weekend during some reflection on outdoor experiences. Conservation Northwest was fortunate to be a sponsor of the first-ever Refuge Outdoor Festival in Carnation, Washington, geared towards people of color (POC) and allies. Along with our staffer Laurel Baum, I had the opportunity to participate as myself and as a representative of Conservation Northwest.

While the Festival was complete with art, music, sleeping bags and tents, it was also a safe space for important conversations about what it means to be a person of color in the outdoors, and a sincere reflection on what barriers prevent POC from getting outside. It was an emotional journey for many, a long-awaited respite for some and an enlightening experience for others.

Acknowledging Conservation Northwest’s historically white composition, it was my goal to share with the Festival attendees—who included POC as well as white allies—our organization’s efforts to be more diverse and inclusive.

Over the weekend, Conservation Northwest was there to listen and learn. Unsurprisingly, everyone we spoke with had some form of connection to the outdoors and to the environment, accompanied by a desire to protect and conserve our planet.

“I think it was really great to be able to support an event lead and organized by people of color, focused on their experiences in the outdoors,” said Laurel Baum, our Central Cascades Conservation Associate and Citizen Wildlife Monitoring Project Coordinator. “We have a lot of work to do in the conservation movement to make all communities feel welcomed and that their voices are being heard as part of the discussion in the broader environmental movement.”

Barriers to accessing and enjoying the outdoors are much higher for POC, whether they be the high cost of gear, limited transportation options, lack of people to do it with or a historical fear and trauma of outdoor spaces.

Here are my biggest takeaways from participation in Refuge Outdoor Festival:

• Be explicit.

  POC are used to being systematically and implicitly excluded, so be explicit in your efforts to be inclusive.

• Treat people with dignity.

  Make the effort to understand peoples’ obstacles, fears and traumas. You may not share the same sentiments, but that does not diminish a person’s experience, their dignity or their right to be outside.

• It’s not about intent, it’s about impact.

  Even if you don’t intend to treat POC differently in the outdoors, that doesn’t mean you aren’t negatively impacting their experience. Do what you can to improve other peoples’ time spent outside by listening.

For Conservation Northwest, Refuge Outdoor Festival was a reflection on the breadth of perspective people have on the outdoors. It was also a reminder that people of all backgrounds and orientations share the spaces where we recreate, enjoy the outdoors, and promote the conservation of wildlands and wildlife—we all deserve healthy landscapes. We are looking forward to continuing our efforts to learn and grow as an organization.

“On Friday night, a group called the Seven Generations Intertribal Culture Family sang songs and gave a performance where they welcomed participants from the audience to join them sharing the experience of their songs,” said Baum.  “I feel this is reflective of how we need be welcoming, more inclusive and listen to a broad spectrum of people’s experiences in outdoors and our conservation work, especially here in the Pacific Northwest.”

The work Conservation Northwest does to protect, connect and restore wildlands and wildlife benefits not only traditional conservationists, outdoor recreationists and wildlife enthusiasts, but also lends to the human experiences of healing and self-discovery that everyone seeks when they get outside.

We recognize that for long-term progress, conservation must go hand-in-hand with healthy communities. Learn more about our staff, about us, or our work. 

Two weekends ago, I found myself in the middle of a park on a sunny Saturday in Washington state sitting in a circle of people discussing “stretching our edges on race and privilege.”

That was the title of the session, which was running as part of the inaugural Refuge Outdoor Festival. While the weekend was geared towards people of colour with the aim of building community through “outdoor recreation, conversations, music, and art that appeal to a diverse and inclusive audience,” I sat there as a white, privileged reporter taking it all in.

I won’t get into the details of the festival—I was there talking to attendees, facilitators and organizers for a forthcoming feature story—but there was one moment that seems to be worth highlighting.

Including myself, there were maybe three white people out of 15 in this morning session. Before the conversation got started, the facilitator—an energetic and articulate woman originally from Hawaii—asked us to do something that we are so rarely asked to do: name our privilege.

I certainly have many as a white woman born and raised in wealthy Alberta, with an Ivy League education and a career in which I’m entrusted with telling people’s stories.

A funny thing happened as I thought about this fact and listened to the stories around me—I noticed I had physically tried to shrink myself, to take up less space in this place in which I didn’t really belong.

Unconsciously, my legs were crossed, my arms folded into a pretzel and pressed tightly against my body, my shoulders hunched towards my chest.

“Do you feel uncomfortable?” the facilitator asked after the naming-of-privileges had ended. “That’s OK because that’s how we feel all the damn time.”

It’s hard to get people from one demographic to try to understand the experiences of people from another demographic, but that moment drove home an important point to me.

If we are ever going to create a truly equal world, the people who have historically been comfortable in it need to learn to be OK with giving up some of that comfort to make way for, and try to understand, the struggles of others.

This is at the crux of so many issues our society is currently grappling with. Many people are being made to feel uncomfortable for the first time—and frankly, they do not seem to like it.

In the wake of the Brett Kavanaugh U.S. Senate hearings, last week President Donald Trump told a group at a campaign rally in Mississippi, that it “is a scary time for young men in America when you can be guilty of something that you may not be guilty of.”

Setting aside the false assumptions behind that statement, at its core the president was saying what many men seem to be saying in the #metoo moment. They’re afraid that somehow they will become entwined in the flurry of neverending sexual assault allegations even though they’ve never committed sexual assault.

To that I say, calm down, boys. According to research from Stanford University, only around two per cent of rape and sex-related offences are determined to be false, which is on par with other crimes.

The real issue is these men (not all, of course) are pissed off that they’re being made to feel uncomfortable. They can no longer catcall or grind up on a stranger at the bar—actions that until recently have been dismissed as “boys being boys”—without a little voice in their head saying, “I might get in trouble for this.”

Women who might have let that crap slide in the past are feeling empowered to call out those actions because they’re finally being taken seriously.

While I might have named and considered my privilege at the Refuge Festival, because of that privilege, I haven’t given much thought to the way my gender has impacted how I move through the world—until a recent meme made the rounds on social media.

I can’t verify the legitimacy of its origin story—that a professor asked male and female students what they do to prevent being sexually assaulted—but whether the back story is true or not, the resulting list hit me hard.

The men, it showed, said, “nothing. I don’t think about.” While the women rattled off a long list ranging from “hold my keys as a potential weapon” to “park in well-lit areas.”

They were all actions I’ve taken or have been told to take to prevent becoming a victim—only it had never occurred to me that half the population has never had to confront this.

Our society is currently in flux. We are confronting myriad issues we haven’t had to think about before. We’re being forced to consider our privilege, think about others and change the way we act.

Do you feel uncomfortable? Good.