Latino Conservation Week: How Birds Became my Therapy by Ana Jimenez

September 11, 2024

Ana Jimenez is a Conservation Networks Manager for the Hispanic Access Foundation. With a passion for environmental conservation and a commitment to fostering positive relationships, she plays a pivotal role in advancing the mission of the Hispanic Access Foundation while elevating the voices of Latino communities. This blog article is in celebration of Latino Conservation Week, an initiative of Hispanic Access Foundation to support the Latino community getting into the outdoors and participating in activities to protect our natural resources.

We can all agree that 2020 was a year to be remembered. A global pandemic, protests around social injustices, a contentious election, and natural disasters across the world. For me, it was also a year of deep reflection, appreciation for our natural world, and cherishing loved ones.

The year 2020 was a milestone year in my life. This would be the year I decided to leave the nest and get my first apartment by myself after having lived with my family all my life. I was so used to hearing my parents get ready in the mornings and smelling the cafecito (coffee) as it was brewing every day. I also started a new job in March, working for a local conservation organization in Kansas City, which I was thrilled about. I had been dreaming about making a career change and using my skills to be part of the solution to protect la Madre Tierra (Mother Earth). All great things, right? Well, then, a global pandemic happened, and the whole world went into isolation. I was less than a week into my new job when we were mandated to go fully remote. During this time, like most of us, I could not see my family or friends. It was not long before I felt the social effects of the pandemic and started developing feelings of loneliness and depression. The only interaction I had living alone was with my dog, Naba. It was during this time of solitude that my love for birds rekindled, as well as a renewed appreciation for the natural world.

I grew up in Chihuahua, Mexico, with my parents and two younger sisters. I spent most of my childhood playing outside with the neighborhood kids, making cakes out of mud and leaves, playing a las escondiditas (hike and seek), and generally just having a blast. A few neighborhood kids had dogs, and naturally, I wanted one, too. My parents were reluctant to adopt a dog, so they bought us a pair of lovebirds (genus Agapornis). However, what my
parents did not know was those little things reproduce… fast. Very soon, we found ourselves with close to 10 birds living in our backyard. We had several big cages for them with swings and other fun accessories. I was thrilled to have so many new pets, as I have always loved animals. I enjoyed watching my birds and learning their behaviors. Not long after, my parents made the very difficult decision to leave our lives in Mexico behind and immigrate to the United States;I was only ten years old then. We left behind our home, family, friends, and everything else I knew. This also meant leaving behind the birds, which ended up going to my tía (aunt) Sara.

She watched after them as we started our new lives in the United States. This was a very difficult time for me as a kid and one I look back on with bittersweet memories. Lovebirds, with their cheerful personalities, vibrant colors, and melodious sounds, have always reminded me of my childhood and my home country of Mexico. Fast-forward 17 years to the Summer of 2020, in the midst of the pandemic, and here I was, scrolling through Amazon on my phone. I came across a window bird feeder that piqued my interest. I have been a victim of targeted ads for a long time, ha! Anyway, I purchased it along with a bag of birdseed mix. A couple of days later, it arrived, and I put it outside on the glass sliding door of my patio. I was initially worried because no birds were stopping by, and I almost forgot about the bird feeder. It took a couple of weeks before any bird stopped by, but one day, I noticed one little guy having breakfast from my feeder. It didn’t take long before I had dozens of birds visiting my feeder at any given time. I was so excited!

Patio view of birds with dog in foreground

My daily routine during the pandemic was to go on a walk with the dog and appreciate the time spent out in the natural world, feed the birds, and work. I spent countless hours sitting in my living room watching the birds come by daily.

I started paying close attention to different birds stopping by, their behaviors, and sounds. With the help of some binoculars and a couple of helpful apps, I became an amateur bird watcher. As daily visitors, I had blue jays (cyanocitta cristata), which are a beautiful shade of blue and have a noisy call; northern cardinals (cardinalis cardinalis), the males are a vibrant shade of red and look beautiful on a snowy day, and the females are a light brown shade with warm red accents; and American robins (Turdus migratorius), they are known to be backyard birds and have a cheery song. All of which are common birds in my home state of Missouri.

My new avian friends gave me something to occupy my mind and a sense of purpose, as silly as it sounds. It brought me tremendous joy to see my patio full of life and activity. I was not the only one who enjoyed them. My dog Naba was also happy to have visitors. Although the birds were afraid of Naba initially, once they realized he was not a threat, they did not mind sharing the space with him. He would sit outside on the patio while the birds feasted and was more than happy to eat their leftover seeds. The birds were a connection to the outside world and nature during this time of chaos and uncertainty. Watching them and feeding them every morning helped ease my feeling of loneliness and uplifted my spirits. I cannot really explain it, but it was a very therapeutic experience, and I am grateful to them.

The conservation organization I worked for owned several natural preserves across Kansas. One preserve the organization partly owned was Cheyenne Bottoms Wildlife Area, a 41,000-acre wetland complex located in central Kansas. Due to its diverse, large, and unique marsh, birdwatching is one of the most popular activities in the area. These wetlands host tens of thousands of shorebirds and up to a quarter of a million waterfowl each year during their migrations. The spring and fall bird migration periods bring large numbers of different species, including whooping cranes (Grus americana), buff-breasted sandpipers (Calidris subruficollis), killdeer (Charadrius vociferus), and more.

After some COVID-19 restrictions were lifted and travel was allowed in the spring of 2021, I got to visit Cheyenne Bottoms, and it was a sight to see. I saw hundreds of shorebirds I would not have imagined seeing in a small rural area in the middle of the country. It was amazing! Visiting this preserve opened my eyes to the beauty of the Midwest and changed my perspective on life. As I stood there watching the birds feed and rest, knowing that they had traveled hundreds of miles here and still had hundreds more to travel south, seeking warmth and refuge, I thought of my own migration journey. Like these birds, my parents brought my family to this country, seeking refuge, food, and shelter. I was incredibly grateful for their sacrifice and for their hard work. Being there at the preserve, I felt free and grateful to have the opportunity to experience such beauty. In full transparency, before visiting the preserve, I felt uncertain about my career path—I had been at my job for almost a year. I was realizing some of the struggles of being a Latina in conservation. I was the only staff of color in my team of almost 30, which often felt isolating and made me question if I belonged in such a space. I also realized that I did not see many people who looked like me when I was enjoying the outdoors.

Many of these beautiful places were either inaccessible to many Latinos, or simply they were unaware of their existence—I desperately wanted to change that. Being there at that time made me realize that I was meant to be where I was, just like the birds were meant to be where they were.

I have since dedicated my career to empowering Latinos in the conservation space and helping increase the accessibility of natural spaces to the Latino community. In my current position as the Conservation Networks Manager at Hispanic Access Foundation, I help connect, build, and empower Latino professionals committed to tackling pressing challenges in land, ocean, and waterways conservation, climate action, and ensuring equitable access to public lands via our Conservation Network. My goal is to help other Latinos experience the outdoors and enjoy la Madre Tierra (Our Mother Earth) and everything she has to offer us. Looking back at my journey, I am incredibly grateful for the time of reflection I had during the pandemic and the time I spent at Cheyenne Bottoms in the spring of 2021. Not only do I have a new sense of admiration and respect for the natural world, but I am grateful to my avian friends for the lessons they have taught me during the time I needed it the most.