Rose ClementsThis story was originally shared with us during our Story Contest by Sam Parker, who won second place in the contest and is currently serving as a Community Volunteer Ambassador in Whiskeytown National Recreation Area. The contest has ended, but you can still share your stories with us for possible publication on The Field Guide! Please email your stories (and any accompanying photos) to communications@conservationlegacy.org.
In my position as a Community Volunteer Ambassador with the Stewards Individual Placement Program of Conservation Legacy, I had the privilege of joining the Whiskeytown National Recreation Area’s Interpretive Division on a three-day work trip. We visited several California State Parks sites with the aim of observing their interpretation of California Gold Rush history. In particular, we wanted to hear how they interpreted connections between the Gold Rush and and the local Indigenous histories. Our ultimate goal was to improve the interpretive programs at our own park. I was able to join at no cost to myself using professional development funds provided to me by Conservation Legacy, and the trip was well worth the perspective I gained.
I was interested to find that only at a few of these sites were we led by paid staff. Most of the interaction we had with the park was through volunteers. These volunteers were knowledgeable and passionate, graciously sharing their experiences and time with us as they gave tours. The most effective interpretation I experienced at the other sites came from volunteers who shared personal stories through the lens of the experiences and knowledge they had collected during their time at the park and throughout their own lives. For example, our volunteer guide at James Marshall Gold Discovery was referred to us as ‘the park historian’. He shared with us his profound, deeply nuanced understanding of many different cultural systems at play—not only at his site, but across the state of California.
Indian Grinding Rock State Park includes a museum curated with the direction of local Indigenous Miwok volunteers. This museum holds informative and honest accounts of the experiences of Indigenous peoples before European invasion, as well as the terror and genocide white Europeans brought to this land during the Gold Rush. The park features multiple U’macha conical bark houses as well as a ceremonial roundhouse, which were constructed by Miwok volunteers.
Park management once intended to put up a structure to prevent weathering on the Grinding Rock itself, the largest known example of such a site in the United States. The tribe felt that the Rock should be allowed to run its natural course and wear with time. Ultimately, this decision was respected by park management, and the obtrusive structure was not created. This outcome directly resulted from park managements first consulting with the tribe.
So, what ingredients make up a healthy volunteer program? What is necessary for productive and meaningful relationships between organizations like our National Parks and the communities they serve? There are many answers to these questions, but the factors I observed most were communication and respect. The parks that I felt had the most effective interpretation maintained regular communication and respectful relationships with local Indigenous peoples, other parks and agencies, and with their local communities.
Some sites really struggled in connecting with their communities. Some had gift shops or entire sections of the park that were closed down—sections that had been historically run by volunteers, or that were built by volunteers in the first place. Typically, justification for these closures was cited as simply the desire for ease: the more involved parties, the more time required to finish a project. More help from outside of the park staff means more necessary communication and more factors to consider, more compromise, and more adjustment. I feel that this extra consideration is critically important to long-term success. The parks whose staff had in the past either cloistered themselves from their communities or actively ended relationships with other groups in favor of streamlining processes were also the parks with unusable exhibits, outdated programs with no adequate replacements, or gift shops unable to open more than a day or two a week. The problem may appear at first to bea lack of staff or volunteers, but I feel that this problem spoke to the larger issue of poor communication and difficulty maintaining relationships.
At Whiskeytown National Recreation Area, our volunteer program is still very much in its developing stages. Often, the questions I ask myself fall into a self-starting line of thinking: “How can I make this better?” Certainly an important question! But one of my takeaways from this trip is that none of these successful efforts were done by just one person, and rarely done by park staff alone. Community involvement is not optional for operating a volunteer program or for having an effective interpretive program. It is a fundamental principle.
So, I ask myself again, “How can I make this better?” Through communication and respect. Through the will to give up some control and sacrifice some speed by opening up the decision-making body to a wider group of people. Through community involvement and engagement, and through recognition of all the talents and inspiration that comes to the parks through our volunteers and partners.
I know now that I can’t fix any of these issues alone. They require a foundational willingness to communicate and to cooperate with the communities that we as the parks serve.
