Nature in My Neighborhood

There exists a stark contrast between the neighborhood I live in now, tucked along the edge of Garden Street, and the impoverished, subjugated area I once called home in Tacoma. My old neighborhood was a place where wildlife struggled to survive, and even if it had thrived, it would have still been inaccessible. The streets were more often filled with the remnants of human activity than the signs of nature. An occasional dog would wander the alleys. Sometimes, the aftermath of raccoons would leave a trail—scraps of trash scattered across the concrete, a testament to their nocturnal scavenging. Living in a place like this taught me how to hold immense gratitude for nature, understanding that the wealthy and middle classes tend to have more access, snow sports and family vacations that I would never experience myself. This motivated me to carve out time and seek out natural beauty, waterfronts and forest days that I prioritized.

I feel immense privilege in having transitioned to a place where nature is abundant, and where walking through my neighborhood to appreciate it is both safe and accessible. This experience has also allowed me to feel and process grief for my community in Tacoma, where redlining continues to shape the areas where outdoor spaces are maintained, funded, prioritized, and marketed. I never fully understood the profound impact that a deficit of nature can have on one’s mental health until now.

Several of the provided images were taken from the balcony of my apartment. I have followed closely the deer population that wanders through our alley, often mother and kin. Mushrooms rise from the moss-covered parking garage and old wood foundation of the building. Coniferous trees and glimpses of the Pacific Ocean fill our windows like greeting cards from a faraway life that I never expected to be my own. I cannot say that nature here is as healthy as it could be, I see the struggle to create space to exist while industrialization and capitalism continue to exploit and erase. I also see here great resilience and I hope that this resilence continues long beyond our kind.