Inclusion and representation in the UK outdoors
Contents
Background
Adapted from Our Shared Outdoors
“Creating separate groups for Black people is divisive and encourages segregation. If I did the same for white people, would I be racist?”.
The need for equity. Despite many outdoor groups being promoted as accessible and inclusive, there are always participation biases, for example by gender, age, socioeconomic status and race. Outdoor spaces in the UK are mostly occupied by white or white-passing people. Even if everyone in an outdoor space or group is welcoming, this may not necessarily be clear given the social structures and environment in the UK, meaning that People of Colour can feel judged or excluded before stepping foot in outdoor spaces or joining groups.
We can tackle these inequalities by promoting and creating more opportunities for underrepresented groups to get involved in familiar and comfortable environments. These groups work towards giving marginalised folk an ‘in’ to the outdoors, in an environment that they know is welcoming, safe, and full of like minded people with shared experiences.
Why do we need separate groups? People new to a sport can feel uncomfortable going where they don’t think they’ll be welcomed, or if they know they will be the only or one of the only few Black/queer/disabled participants. This can prevent people seeking out new outdoor experiences, solidifying the lack of diverse representation in the outdoors. This cycle can be broken through equity groups, such as Black Girls Hike.
People seeing themselves represented in outdoor groups and through outdoor role models, is more likely to make people feel welcomed and is thus the only way to work towards diversifying the outdoors.
For people who are new to exploring sport and recreation in the outdoors, being able to do so with a group of people with relatable lived experiences, and in a welcoming environment, is often crucial to provide the confidence to then go out alone, with friends, or with other organised groups, having experienced and learned about the sport in such environments.
My focusses
- There are many people of colour all around the country like me who enjoy doing various outdoor sports for fun, such as hiking, running, cycling, climbing and swimming.
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People of colour are distributed all over the country, meaning that it’s harder to find or make communities. While over half the UK Black population is in London, for Asian minorities it is more distributed:
Author’s analysis from England and Wales Census 2021. Hover for details
- On top of underrepresentation, this disconnection might discourage people of colour to for example practice the sport in public, or join local clubs, events or competitions.
My aims are to:
- Show that there are communities of people of colour around the country who enjoy outdoor sports, such as running, climbing, walking, cycling or swimming.
- Encourage people of colour to enjoy and join local white-majority sport activities, clubs and events.
My work
In 2020 I was invited to speak at the Open Mountain event at the Kendal Mountain Festival, where I presented this piece (watch here):
On the damp hillside where 300 runners have gathered to start, we’re waiting in line, shivering in the English drizzle, race numbers attached, being called forward one-by-one for compulsory kit check. Everyone’s anticipating the hours up ahead on the fells, pounding mud and scree. Butterflies in the throat, I can barely drink this last bit of tap water in my bottle – I can already feel the cold Lakeland water in my face at Newlands Hause. I’m hard-pressed to find someone to chat it off to – everyone seems to know each other already – I can only imagine what that sense of community feels like thinking about when I used to play badminton. Although I’ve know the fells and moors around Manchester like the uppers of my shoes since my childhood, I feel strangely alienated; I’m unaffiliated, the only visibly Asian skin clad in Decathlon kit amongst a sea of white people in skimpy club vests.
People often ask: why do so many Chinese people here in the UK play badminton? Because we see us playing on the TV, we see us represented in clothing adverts, on TV, we can see ourselves playing it. I realise, since I discovered fell running four years ago, that I’ve never seen a fellow Chinese runner in person or even in the media – male or female, young or old, amateur or pro.
The thought stays with me as we start running, a frenzy of bodies finding their position on the first climb up Causey Pike, overzealous sprinters soon put back in their place by the rising fellside. Soon it’s the same muddy shoes of the runner in front that are in my face and the crunch of wild heather for what seems like hours. I glance back up and despite the unrelenting climb making me regret skipping the gym, I instantly remember why I do this: lustful, eye watering views of Newlands, Crag Hill, Derwentwater and the western fells up ahead.
Fell-runners are proud that our sport rests uncommercialised, uncomplicated and cheap to all with access to the hills. The trodding of racers up and down pikes and dales is still apolitical and traditional, and that’s the joy in it! Modern Britain, however, has changed since the Fell Runners Association was founded – do we work for diversity like other British sports or should the start line today look the same as it did in the historical FRA magazines decades ago?
6 hours later. Approaching the finish line I hear the generic bravos of husbands, wives, kids. I’ve been ripping downhill for the past half hour with the same fellow runner – it’s reassuring that we’re all going through the same knee-crippling struggle together; out on the fells, stumbling up and down the fells, it’s reassuring and refreshing that no matter what you look like, everyone around you is equal, world champion or not. A bunch of runners around me joke about the fact that they’re all having pie and mash for dinner – I try to join in but it’s more likely to be noodles or rice for me. Oh well, who cares anyway?
The last step over the tape and it’s the end of a cracking day in the beautiful fells which I know and love so well. This feeling of euphoria, shaking hands with people I’ve had isolated conversations with over the past 5 hours, the sun finally beating down into the valley, watching runners come in behind me with smiles and sweat on their faces, I feel briefly and weirdly recognised as part of the community. I wipe the sweat off my face with my mud-dotted top. I feel like a zebra running amongst the bison; sometimes I want to hide my stripes to blend into the crowd.
As I quietly leave the crowd, I ask myself: who represents my voice in this sport? Why isn’t the Association tackling this issue, and why do my community leaders – the FRA, the British Mountaineering Council – only want to sweep this topic under the carpet? My voice can raise awareness as a leader at my university hillwalking club; will fellow runners with bigger voices in charge of races, magazines and brands use their privilege to do the same?
With this piece I’d like to reach out to other fell runners of colour in the UK to break down barriers to the outdoor sports together, especially now that COVID has posed another hardship for underrepresented and marginalised people. No matter how few of us there are out there, we’re still a community and I hope to meet you some day!
About me
Being from Manchester, I’m lucky to have been exposed to the joys of spending time in the Peaks and Lakes from a young age. My parents are Chinese immigrants and it was their rare inquisitiveness about the UK that allowed my brother and me to know the ridges of Helvellyn and the knolls of Kinder intimately as children. I unintentionally discovered fell running a few years ago when running late to Buxton station to catch the last train and now I love spending free weekends running on the moors and fells alone.
People of colour still face implicit and explicit barriers to outdoors sports, including perceptions, media underrepresentation and greater access difficulties, to which the COVID-19 pandemic has added another layer of challenge. There is a particular problem with ethnic diversity in the fell running community. Seeing absolutely no people of colour at most fell races I’ve been to in the UK inspired me to write this piece. I want to describe the fell race experience from a voice that is almost never heard in our sport literature, from a face that is almost never seen in the community. This is something that still shocks me as I observe other traditional sports communities moving forward and raising awareness to tackle underrepresentation and discuss privilege. Despite there being plenty of free online resources and case studies, conversations about the issue of a lack of diversity in the sport are a necessary next step. I hope this piece will raise awareness amongst runners and organisers in order to address the wider issue and allow these conversations to begin.
I believe that this piece fits the brief in describing the culture of the British fell running community, how we interact with nature in a race and the place of ethnic minority runners in the sport, including the challenges and the underrepresentation they face.