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J


ennifer Owen-White is running a national wildlife refuge—but you might not know it from the view out


the window of her makeshift office. The land she oversees, 570 acres along the Middle Rio Grande in Albuquerque’s South Valley, gained federal protection in late 2011. Today it still looks more like the dairy farm it used to be than the outdoor destination it’s striving to become. To fully transform the property into


Valle de Oro National Wildlife Refuge will take an army of dedicated conser- vationists, mostly volunteers. During her first year at the refuge, Owen-White was its sole employee. As manager of one of the country’s few urban wildlife refuges and the first in the Southwest, she’s under pressure from all sides— local residents, government officials, environmental groups—to succeed. And she’s a Texan, which raises eyebrows in a state that has clashed with its


neighbor over everything from water rights to college football. But to the 36-year-old Owen-White, it’s a dream job. “I still pinch myself every


day,” she says. She’s sitting on a faded couch in a one-story stucco that will soon be torn down to make way for a new office and visitor center. Today, Owen-White and her team are busy preparing crafts for a public open house—bird feeders fashioned from pinecones and mandala designs made out of seeds. Outside the building, cranes and Canada geese pick at stubbly grass in fields that shine in the early morn- ing sun. The community chose to name the refuge Valle de Oro—it means “valley of gold.”


In her three years as manager, Owen-White has drafted a long-range plan for the refuge and built a support network of more than a hundred partners, from the Na- tive American community of the neighboring Isleta Pueblo to The Trust for Public Land, which worked to protect the refuge site. She’s orchestrated the demolition of old farm buildings and removed rows of nonnative Siberian elms. But perhaps her proudest achievement is assembling her six-member staff—cobbled together despite receiving funding for just two full-time positions. All young women, with backgrounds as diverse as the community they now serve, they’re not your typical conservation professionals. And that’s no accident. Despite environmental organizations’ attempts to diversify, white males still dominate the ranks, Owen-White says. “So many young women and young people of color might love a career in conservation, but they never get a chance to pursue it—in many cases because they’re not even aware it’s an option,” she explains. Her hiring strategy was as much about creating opportunities for visitors as for the staff themselves. “One of our goals at Valle de Oro is to make the public feel like this is their refuge—because it is. Hiring a team that reflects the broader community makes sense.”


jennifer owen-white Entrance to the 17-mile Paseo de Bosque trail


40 · LAND&PEOPLE · SPRING/SUMMER 2016


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