By Nile Wilson*
Fig tree from Nile’s back yard.
Many childhood memories of the Philippines escape me, but the moments I do remember with vivid detail are those spent surrounded by nature. I spent my early childhood in the family compound owned by my paternal grandparents. Despite its location in a densely populated urban area in Metro Manila, the compound hosted a rich variety of flowering plants and tropical fruit trees. I still remember climbing those trees and eating the fruit as I sat on the branches. The smells, textures, and flavors of fresh tropical fruit conjure the image of a happy, carefree childhood. Just before my seventh birthday, we moved to live with my maternal grandparents. Our new home had unclimbable trees, but the open areas for running and playing were acceptable substitutes. Within a few years, however, these open spaces were gradually replaced by homes. Vegetation was removed in favor of paved spaces. We even lost access to the nearby hill, where we used to fly homemade paper kites, when it was sold to developers. With no public green spaces within walking distance, my unwilling detachment from nature began. We did not have a vehicle, so attempts at escaping to nature were massive drains on time and effort that deterred us from doing more.
Nile and her family in the Susquehanna River.
My story is not unique, however, as inequitable access to green spaces is a well-documented worldwide phenomenon. Biernacka et al. (2022) reported that most city residents in Lodz, Poland, valued good parks, but many of the parks accessible to economically vulnerable residents were unattractive. Similarly, greenery in schools in Santiago, Chile, reflected inequality between low-income and affluent neighborhoods. Private schools had the most amount of vegetation while public schools had the least (Fuentes, 2019). Even the United States, a world superpower, has similar problems. The Trust for Public Land reported the majority of Seattle residents regardless of race and income had walking access to a park, but neighboring areas such as Tukwila, a city comprised primarily of minorities, did not (Johnson, 2021). When parks were nearby, however, African Americans and Hispanics were more likely to live where parks were overcrowded, a factor which made parks less desirable (Sister et al., 2010 as cited in The Wilderness Project, 2019). Access to large parks—regional, state, national—was even more inequitable. Park et al. (2021) reported that people of color were less likely to have parks within walking distance of their homes and were more likely to rely on public transportation to access large parks. Lack of access to a vehicle may explain why a recent survey of National Park visitors revealed that only 20 percent of visitors were people of color (Johnson, 2021).
Nile with her daughters and their violins.
In the 24 years I lived in the Philippines, my family’s finances hindered us from living in neighborhoods with more greenery. As a result, my experiences with nature were limited. I find it serendipitous, then, that learning to play the violin allowed opportunities not available to most Filipinos of similar or lower economic standing. These opportunities included all-expense-paid travel to perform in beautiful locations. I had never traveled far from my hometown, but when I was 16, I performed in an orchestra that accompanied world-famous tenor Luciano Pavarotti in a concert tour of Southeast Asia. One of the performances was at a luxury island resort in Pangkor Laut, Malaysia. The jade green waters, fine white sand, and the abundance of greenery were unlike anything I have seen. Following that, I performed in a music festival at the Monastery of the Transfiguration in the mountains of Southern Philippines. For two weeks, I was surrounded by trees and mountains, far removed from city life. The cool mountain air, a view of endless forest, and Gregorian chants by Benedictine monks created a spiritual experience even for the non-religious. My life in the Philippines was characterized by constant stress and hopelessness, but those few encounters with nature renewed me. I longed to be around nature, but my circumstances limited my choices.
Providing equitable access to nature is a massive but achievable undertaking. At the city level, prioritizing equity can result in the intentional planning of attractive and accessible green spaces in underserved communities (Prevention Institute, 2021; Russo, 2022). At the national level, federal government agencies can provide funds to make communities more environmentally friendly. The U.S. Environmental Protection Agency’s (EPA) Greening America’s Communities is one such project. Montgomery, Alabama, and Columbus, Ohio, are just two of the underserved communities that have benefitted from such a government initiative, receiving funds to increase urban green spaces and make them accessible to residents (EPA, n.d.). Equity can also be achieved by providing residents with efficient transport to parks if they are not within walking access to one (Johnson, 2021). Trailhead Direct, for example, has provided access to 150 miles of trails to residents of King County, Seattle. Within the first year of extending its service to low-income communities south of Seattle, its ridership increased by 75 percent (Johnson, 2021).
Nile’s home in Pennsylvania: Aurora borealis
I left the Philippines 23 years ago, and living in suburban Pennsylvania is not at all reflective of my old life. You could say that I am privileged. I live within walking distance of a beautiful park. Whenever my family opts to do something more exciting, we own a vehicle that can take us where we want to go. If we felt like staying home, we have mature trees, a pollinator garden, and a sprawling lawn right in our backyard. I can be around nature any time I choose, but my childhood in the Philippines is a stark reminder that access to nature is still a luxury for many. Several researchers (Barquilla et al., 2023; Gayle, 2024; Hallam et al., 202; McCartan et al., 2022; Pataki et al., 2021; South et al., 2015) have provided evidence of the positive effects of nature on health, connection with community and the environment, benefits all humans deserve. Yet, equitable access to nature remains a luxury out of reach to disadvantaged populations. This is an injustice that our society must address.
*Nile is a graduate student in Instrumental Music Education.
Nile playing the violin
