Tomorrow is Juneteenth. Last year, I celebrated the day on top of Mt. Massive, the second-tallest peak at 14,429 feet in Colorado, to mark the massive effort that had been underway to liberate all people.

This year, I am on the Great Freedom Loop journey, thru-hiking the AT and bike packing on the Underground Railroad Bike Path, commemorating the 100th anniversary of Black History Month and the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, recognizing such a significant milestone in our history in many ways.

This adventure is dedicated to those who came before me, who sacrificed their time, relationships, labour, and life for our American foundational ideology: all men are created equal. I am also out here for those who are with me now and will come after me to see what’s possible for a woman like me in the outdoor space that continues to be dominated by majority white people.

One of my greatest inspirations and role models is Harriet Tubman. Her last words, “I go to prepare a place for you,” communicate her incredible care and value of inclusion and belonging in such a simple yet profound way.

I share Harriet’s values. I see, hear, feel, and experience almost everything through the lens of equity and belonging. When I see something unfair, I notice it, think about what to do about it, and do something about it.

I’ve been thinking about an interaction I had at the ATC visitor center in Harpers Ferry. On the trail, I practice mindfulness and being in the present moment to cherish everything around me: the trees that provide green healing space, water that brings life and washes away things that don’t serve me anymore, the birds singing in harmony and bringing a sense of peace all day long, etc. In the presence of such beauty, my mind goes off to replay the scene. As part of processing and with the hope that people may benefit from learning, I decided to write about it. 

At Harpers Ferry, known as the psychological halfway point, there is the ATC visitor center. Most thru-hikers stop by and take a photo at the center, celebrating their achievement. I went there to use the bathroom, refill my water, and take a photo, and also to learn some history about Harpers Ferry on the way.

I entered the visitor center and greeted by two staff members working at a desk. Soon, one of them asked me, “what is your nationality?”

So many feelings and thoughts went through my mind very quickly, and my first one was: Is this person working for ICE?

I felt very uncomfortable with the question, but I played nice and gave him an answer. He kept going, “What is your heritage?”

I really didn’t want to engage with this conversation. If I were a white hiker, he probably wouldn’t have asked the question. I am used to this kind of interrogation about my origin by strangers, but I’m not immune to it when it comes from public-facing officials.

I thought the question was as inappropriate as asking someone: What is your sexual orientation? What is your gender? What is your race? What is your disability? As a public-facing officer, you cannot ask visitors these questions.

I’ve been playing the scene over and over in my head, regretting and upsetting with my responses, and what I could have done better on spot instead of walking out, saying no thank you to the photo opportunity.

I spent days getting to a place where I’m no longer angry or upset. I have been thinking about how best to approach the ATC for change so that it will never happen again to other BIPOC who interact with them.

It was taking up a lot of my mental and emotional space on a beautiful trail. I’m not the director of equity and inclusion anymore, and it is my duty and responsibility to address the issue in the most caring way, asking for a collective apology and next steps for prevention, not for punishment of the individual.

Crossing from Maryland to Pennsylvania was a life-changing moment for Harriet Tubman- from an enslaved person to a free woman. As I crossed the border, I told myself that I refused to be the one who is intimidated, silenced, and shamed. I’m here to be part of the movement to achieve liberty and freedom for all people. What I will address is such a small thing and a big deal- as I used to preach to my students when I was an educator, using phytoplankton as an example. They are microscopic and together, they produce 75% of Earth’s oxygen, playing a vital and critical role in sustaining our planet.

I’m one of gazillions of those who push for generations after us to have a little easier life, to take a breath of ease. I’m responsible for that breath, one breath.

Although I had a hard time being in the present moment, and I kept playing that scene over and over in my head, thinking what could I’ve done better in that moment and what would I do differently next time, I was glad to be hiking and being nature alone without much interactions with other people. I thanked the sky, the clouds, the sun, the air, plants, birds and animals. They let me pass them without asking me about what I am and where I’m from. In the forest, nobody asks me, “What is your nationality?” Nobody cares- everybody belongs. We’re all from here.

Our 250 years of history since the Declaration of Independence are built upon the massacre of American Indians, slavery, and other types of oppression that denied equality for those people. The weight of our history continues to show today. Change takes time. I’m okay with it. I may not see the change I want to see in my lifetime. When Harriet Tubman left this world, she didn’t see President Obama or know Simon Biles, and I know she worked and dreamt of that change. It happened, and it will continue to happen.

I will do what I can- when an opportunity arises, I’ll go and do my best to prepare a place for everyone to feel welcome and belong- this is my pledge on the eve of Juneteenth, 2026.