What We Want to Remember

Well, it's time to admit it. Blogging is not my strength. I have struggled with writing regularly, mostly because I grapple with questions like: What do I want to convey to my friends and family about this journey? More importantly, what do I want to remember for myself-- in those days when the girls have grown, and I am looking back through these archives?

Some days, I think the hundreds of pictures I take and the memories we are making are enough. Some days I am angry at myself for not writing more, for not detailing every single thing that happens so I never forget. But honestly, some days, I feel like the world is such a shitshow, and I think to myself, "I should sit down and write, but what even is the point?"

Maybe the point is there are thousands of tiny moments I know will fade with time. Sitting at the table playing cards. Hiking in the desert. Seeing a javelina for the first time. Watching the stars in the big night sky. Whispering comfort in the small hours of the night to ease childhood fears. Learning math on the tiny living room floor. Those little everyday moments are the most important ones, to be sure. Those thousand-and-one moments will fade but will leave behind feelings of warmth and deep happiness when we hear a certain song or see a constellation or get a whiff of creosote bushes or salty ocean air. The feelings of those moments will remain. But I still want to write them all down.

And then there are the big events. The ones that will leave an indelible mark on us all after this trip. The first time the girls saw the Statue of Liberty. The ride into Boquillas del Carmen, Mexico, on the backs of burros. The moment Aela fell in love with lobsters on a boat tour in Maine. Hiking the Chisos Basin Trail in Big Bend National Park. Every single Junior Ranger swearing-in ceremony.

How do I capture any of it? The big and the small?  

Honestly, my bandwidth is low, and I have a hard time focusing when I sit down to write. As much as I hate social media, I am far more capable of typing out quick, snappy Instagram and FB updates. And I often think even those are not really important in the larger scheme of things. 

I mean, I’m not going to lie. After the election, I had deep second thoughts about our trip. In addition to the existential doubt around enjoying my life while the world is on fire aside, I realized that we were putting stress on the national parks systems as we continue to travel for the next five months, and I felt incredibly guilty about that. I know that thanks to the reckless cuts by the current unfortunate administration, the parks we are heading to won’t have the staffing to continue some of the programming and maintain the parks. Many of the parks we have visited are already severely understaffed. Many rely on volunteers. Parks have been understaffed for years. So, I actually had a moment where I questioned whether we should continue.

But my sister, Chris, who is a national parks advocate with National Parks Conservation Association (NPCA) reminded me: if we all stop going to parks, it will give them an excuse to cut funding.

It’s important to go see all of the places we can if only to remind ourselves of the history and culture and beauty we are fighting for

And honestly, who knows what this country will look like at the end of this administration’s reign of terror, so it is more important than ever to get out there and enjoy our lands and our rights while we can. 

I know that I have readers who are supporters of the current administration, as much as that confounds me. People who are probably sighing and shaking their heads at the drama of it all, of my words. But Trav and I are deeply concerned about the direction this country is headed and I can do nothing more than speak my truth about this. I will never not be able to speak my truth. 

So we have had long talks about our concerns together while the girls sleep and talk out loud in front of them, and we continue on this journey. And we have tried to ensure they are aware that things are shifting. That what is happening in our country is part of their education. Of their roadschooling curriculum. 

You see, roadschooling means we are constantly learning and growing together. It also means that school is not contained within four walls Mon-Fri during certain hours. Learning on the road happens in so many different ways. 

So when the opportunity to participate in the Protect Our Parks protest arose, we jumped at the chance for our girls to learn what it feels like to participate in peaceful protest and use our voices when we joined other protestors at White Sands National Park. 

I will say this wasn’t an easy lesson. We didn’t just jump in the car and run out there all happy smiles. The girls have been learning about our history for six months by visiting national park sites that highlight some of the darkest sides of our country’s past. They have seen that protests in our country have sometimes gotten ugly. They have learned that protests in our country have sometimes gotten violent. They have questioned whether protests make any difference. They had legitimate questions and concerns.

So before we left, we had a long conversation about what it means to protest peacefully. We talked about why someone would go out and protest at all.

We talked about how powerful it is to use our voice in a country that still allows the First Amendment right to assemble peacefully. We talked about other countries where they’re not given the same rights.

We talked about how one person can make a massive impact. We have talked about Greta Thunberg in our house, and they know how the Friday protests she started doing all by herself attracted the attention of other people with the same concerns about climate change. They know the story of how her movement grew to a worldwide message. How one voice can make an impact.

I shared stories of previous peaceful protests that I have participated in to reassure them.



I showed them some footage of a peaceful protest in February in Zion National Park after the Park Ranger layoffs. This way, they could see what a peaceful protest in a national park might look like.

I told them they did not have to participate. I told them it was my choice to participate in this protest. I told them they could be passively observant to see what a peaceful protest looks like. I explained why this topic concerns Travis and me, but I told them it is entirely up to them whether they want to participate in the protest.

I explained it was most important for me that they see what a peaceful protest is so that someday they can choose how and when to use their voice for change. 

They both chose to make signs on their own, and they chose the messages for their signs on their own.

When we showed up to the protest, Aela was all in and talked to journalists and other protesters passionately about what she had been learning on the road. Eva hung back and watched from the sidelines. Both learned a fantastic amount about the power we still hold to raise our voices in this country.

We were able to hear from other folks who voiced concerns about how the park staff is being cut and the fear that our parks will be privatized and sold off in service of the “drill, baby drill” agenda. The girls met other concerned folks and learned why parks are important to them.

I was able to speak at this protest about how important our public lands are, the lands that we, the American people, own, and how incredibly crucial our Park staff is. 

I talked to the crowd and the journalists about our family’s investment in the parks personally, about our journey this past six months, about my dismay at what is happening currently with federal cuts, and about my hopes that someday my daughters will be able to bring their own kids to the same parks. Travis stood by my side, supporting me and adding how much the parks mean to us.

Our daughters got to see their parents standing up for something they believe in. What more powerful real-world learning is there?

And in the meantime, we were out there, ensuring our voices were heard and counted.

I couldn’t be prouder of my girls' willingness to go outside their comfort zone and be a part of the Protect Your Parks protest.

And so we journey ever onward in times of doubt and moments of guilt and in between tiny moments of absolute ecstatic profound joy. There are significant moments and there are small ones. We continue to talk about the things that concern us and celebrate how absolutely fortunate we are to find the beauty that still exists out there anyway.

These are the moments I want to look back on and remember and the ones I want to share. And so I will continue to sit down at my computer, even when I feel like it's not worth it; it's hopeless or pointless or exhausting. I will continue to speak my truth and try my best to write it all down anyway. If not for myself, then for them.