Arizona poppy wildflowers are scattered along the desert floor, surrounded by buckhorn cholla and sahuaros in all stages of life.
It’s a quiet, late Wednesday morning as Cassandra Becerra sets up her phone on a tripod along the Bowen Trail, about a half mile west of the JW Marriott Tucson Starr Pass Resort and Spa. Becerra one of the original Reinas Who Hike, and Arizona State Director for Mountain Mamas, starts talking at the camera. Her long, brown wavy hair covers her shoulders and sunglasses block the sun from her face.
She’s promoting the Sept. 19 Rutas y Raices hike that the two groups are hosting as part of Latino Conservation week in Arizona, which starts this Saturday and runs through Sept. 20.
It’s one of a series of community events in Tucson and Phoenix, including hiking, kayaking, a burrito run and a dance party, “because you can’t have Latino Conservation Week without a dance party,” Becerra said.
The Hispanic Access Foundation launched Latino Conservation Week in 2014, with the goal of supporting the Latino community in getting outdoors and getting involved in protecting natural resources. In Tucson, Arizona Mountain Mamas, Sierra Club, The Wilderness Society, Chispa AZ, FUGA and Friends of Ironwood are some of the organizations hosting events for the annual celebration.
It’s one of many national efforts to promote BIPOC communities’ connection to nature, with similar events like Black Climate Week in February highlighting the ways Black communities are solving climate change and environmental issues. Organizations like Honor the Earth, Indigenous Climate Action and Indian Land Tenure Foundation promote climate solutions rooted in tribal sovereignty.
While Latinos may not use terms like environmentalist to describe themselves, they’ve always been stewards of the land, Becerra said.
“Generations of our familias have cared for our lands, that have also taught us to care for Mother Earth,” she said. “So it’s really just a celebration, you know, of our shared history.”
Growing up, Becerra’s family didn’t have a lot of money, so instead of extravagant vacations to Disneyland, they would go camping, visit Mount Lemmon or Patagonia Lake.
“Those were our vacations,” Becerra said. “And as children, that was food for our soul. We were super excited to be out there, jumping in the lake, fishing with our families, those are all the things that really shaped us.”
Making space for Latino voices
Ana Gorla, energy and public lands coordinator for the Sierra Club Grand Canyon Chapter, sees the week as a kickoff for consistent outdoor activity, as Arizona temperatures start to cool down.
One of the Latino Conservation Week events, on Sept. 17, is a closing reception of the Living With Injury exhibition at Tucson’s Museum of Contemporary Art. The exhibition, which opened in November and will close Sept. 27, puts a spotlight on the Tucson South Side community’s fight for clean water after they were affected by TCE contamination from the 1940s to the 1980s.
Latino Conservation Week events
Find more events for Latino Conservation Week at latinoconservationweek.com/events/2026-events. You can filter the events by state.
Latino Conservation Week in Arizona kicks off at 8 a.m. Saturday, Sept. 12, at Ironwood Forest National Monument, about 40 miles northwest of Tucson, where local environmental leaders will talk about conservation issues that impact public lands. There will also be a short walk led by Friends of Ironwood Forest.
The Sierra Club Grand Canyon Chapter also has a list of Latino Conservation Week events on its website, including a dance party on Friday, Sept. 18, at Slow Body Beer. RSVP.
The “Living With Injury” exhibit closing reception on Thursday, Sept. 17, is also part of Latino Conservation Week. Entrance to the Museum of Contemporary Art is free. More info.
The weeklong celebration is also an opportunity to uplift Latino voices in the conversation about climate change and environmental issues, Becerra and Gorla both said.
“If we don’t elevate our collective voice, we don’t then ensure that our public lands and climate solutions are shaped by our voices, by who we are,” Becerra said.
That representation matters, because Latino communities are disproportionately affected by environmental injustices and climate change, she said.
In Phoenix, majority-Latino neighborhoods like West Valley and South Phoenix, where Gorla grew up, have less green space than areas like Scottsdale and Paradise Valley. Heat maps show Latino communities in the Phoenix metro area are hotter. That’s also where residents are exposed to more air pollution.
Through events like the Caminata and Clean Up at the Rio Salado (Salt River), Gorla hopes people from these majority-Latino neighborhoods will be more motivated to use their public green spaces nearby, where it’s a little cooler and the air is safer to breathe.
“We want people to just be aware of the places where they can enjoy green spaces,” she said.
A generational connection
As the sun starts to set at Gates Pass west of Tucson on Wednesday, Omar Casillas is looking for the best place to watch after a desert hike. He’s in town from Oklahoma City for work — medical device sales — and wanted to spend some time out in nature during his visit.
Casillas hikes up toward a stone building on the hillside. He sits on a boulder next to the structure and looks out into the distance, admiring the desert landscape.
Spending time in nature brings him peace of mind and helps him relax when he’s stressed, he said. It’s also deeply rooted in his Mexican culture and upbringing. Since he was about 10 years old, Casillas would vacation in Jalisco with family, and they would go hiking in the “barranca,” or a canyon.
“At the bottom of all the mountains, there was a mango tree we’d always go to,” he said. “So we’d pick up rocks, we’d throw them at the trees and hopefully catch a mango. And there was a waterfall right there next to the mountain. So after we got our mangoes, we’d eat them and then go swim in the water.”
On the trail below where Casillas sits, Jillian Goetz, Mia Orozco and Kayla Tran, students at the University of Arizona, watch the sun dip behind the mountains. The light blue sky starts to blend into an ombré of yellow, orange and red, silhouetting the cactuses below.
Orozco and Goetz both grew up in the Los Angeles area with families that would take them hiking and camping and spend time outdoors. Now as a college student, Goetz goes for walks on campus when she needs a break from classes, or tries to get off campus to enjoy nature.
“I love being out here,” Goetz said. “I feel like it connects me and grounds me a lot versus being on my screen.”
The outdoors as a place of respite
Latino communities have been affected by an increase in immigration enforcement under the Trump administration. The administration has also cut funding for public lands, waived environmental laws to make way for more border wall construction and proposed several measures that would impact the preservation of public lands.
It’s a stressful time for Latinos and for people who care about these issues, Becerra said. Studies have shown that spending time in nature lowers stress, improves mood and focus and has many positive mental health outcomes.
Gorla hopes those who participate in Latino Conservation Week experience those mental health benefits and are reminded that the outdoors are for everyone.
“Especially in times like right now, where our communities don’t feel very welcomed in this country, I want to remind people that our roots are in nature,” Gorla said. “That anywhere we are in America, you know, the continent, that we should take up space in the outdoors.”
From healing to conservation
In 2014, Cassandra Becerra tossed and turned in bed struggling to fall asleep. Around 2 a.m., she got up and packed an overnight bag.
Her kids were with their dad, so she got in her new, black Jeep Patriot and drove to the Grand Canyon. It was her first time visiting the national park, despite having lived most of her life in Arizona.
She had a lot on her mind as she navigated big life changes. Becerra had just started a job working for the late Congressman Raúl Grijalva. And almost overnight she had gone from being a stay-at-home mom to being the financial provider for herself and her children.
“I sat there on a rock for hours and hours, and I walked a little bit, and I cried a lot,” she said. “And that was me healing. That was Mother Earth was embracing me.”
The same way Mother Earth has taken care of her, Becerra said she is dedicated to “protecting her every way that I can.”
She’s lost track of how many times she’s visited the Grand Canyon since then, and that Jeep took her and her three children on countless road trips to Sedona, Patagonia and many other outdoor adventures across the state and country.
She sees how those trips have led to her kids’ love for nature, now being passed down to her 3-year-old granddaughter. When the toddler visits her grandma, “Lita,” short for abuelita, she asks if they can go on “adventures.” That means she wants to go for a walk outside, Becerra said.
“That’s why I do the work that I do too,” she said. “I have to protect those spaces for them and for their children and their children’s children.”
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