The Village of Pecos, City of Española, and Town of Taos council members unanimously approved resolutions this week supporting the protection of wildlife corridors in the Upper Rio Grande region. The resolutions also urge Congress to support the Wildlife Corridors Conservation Act of 2019 that would serve to protect wildlife corridors nationally. Pecos, Española, and Taos join Rio Arriba, San Miguel, and Santa Fe Counties in passing wildlife corridor resolutions this summer.

I’m 25 and I live in Phoenix, Arizona. Growing up one thing my mom would refuse to have in our house was cable. She didn’t want us to be sitting in front of the TV and not enjoying playing outside. We could afford the cable, but she said no. Every time I look back on that, I’m grateful because it made me love the outdoors. I used to live right by a park and I remember always going there growing up. As soon as we hit the park there was a hill. The first thing I would do is run up that hill and every single time I felt a complete sense of freedom.

The Santa Fe and San Miguel County Commissions on Tuesday both unanimously endorsed resolutions in support of protecting wildlife corridors in the upper Rio Grande Basin. The resolutions also urge Congress to support pending legislation to protect wildlife corridors nationwide.

"Passing the Wildlife Migration Corridor Resolutions at this level sets a precedent, showing communities that our traditions, culture, and uses of these lands are valuable," Ulibarri said. "With so many barriers to migration patterns like highways and other urbanizing development, these corridors ensure the protection of genetic diversity, and the continuation of species.”

My family has been hunting for generations in New Mexico. It has been a tradition that we have participated in year after year, and one that has bonded each of my family members.

I started hunting at 8 years old by tagging along with my father and uncles, and eventually began to hunt small game like squirrels and rabbits. I look back on these memories fondly, remembering how I first learned to walk quietly, use my senses of sight and smell, reading tracks, and learning the ways of my prey. Later I learned to safely carry and fire my hunting rifle, my grandfather’s old Remington Rollingblock.

I was born and raised in Denver, Colorado. Colorado is such an outdoorsy place, but I grew up with limited means. We lived in a housing project and often relied on government assistance. My mother was a single mom who worked as a janitor. Even though the mountains were only 20 minutes away, we rarely went because when you’re poor, even buying the gas to get there is an extreme effort.

Many of us here carry a sense that we are connected to the land. Even many of those who live in town have family connections with land nearby. Many people spend time out of town “at the ranch”.

Las Vegas is situated at the base of the Sangre de Cristo Mountain Range. They are the very last of the Rockies if you follow them down from north to south. We have many acres of National Forest including Carson, Santa Fe, and Pecos. Growing up I’d go backpacking or camping with girlfriends, or we’d go out in the winter with our snowboards and enjoy the snow. I had this feeling that this wild land of the communal forest was my own. A lot of people have those types of strong connections to the land here.

The favorite activity that my father and I shared was fishing. Fishing taught us patience and respect, not easy lessons for my rambunctious siblings and myself. When we would catch something too small to eat we would always throw it back. I’ll never forget the first fish my baby brother finally caught. It was a tiny Bluegill no bigger than the length of my index finger and certainly nothing that was going to feed anyone. Beaming with pride from this seminal experience he threw it in the freezer instead of throwing it back into the lake. My dad lit into my wide-eyed little brother. With the frankness signature of a Marine-Corps drill sergeant he informed us that we don’t waste. If we kill we eat and when we eat, we use as much of the animal as possible.

That lesson struck a nerve with me much deeper than just my love of fishing or nature. Spending time with my father in the outdoors was a masterclass in respect. I’ve carried that respect with me from the lush forests of Northern Michigan to my arid home in Southern Colorado. I’ve tried to embody it everyday as an adult, as a mom, as a teacher and now as a State Legislator.

I was born and raised in Pecos, New Mexico, where my family has been for several generations. I grew up eating deer meat and trout. Nature is what sustained me growing up. My father was a hunter and a fisherman, and we depended on that for our food source. We’d gather berries and pick piñon in the fall. Food gathering has always been really important to my family.

I still share the tradition of picking berries and making jelly with my family. My daughter asks me why we’re doing it since we still have leftover jelly from last year, but I tell her it’s about remembering grandma and her recipes and continuing the tradition. I want to teach my kids and grandkids about the foods that are edible in this area and how to identify them. That’s something that’s been part of my upbringing and something that’s always been important to me.