Support Letter from Betsy Manero
My name is Betsy, and I am a cisgender, heterosexual, white woman who has
been privileged enough to pursue a life in the outdoors, both professionally and recreationally. My love of the mountains led me to the Tetons in 2015, where I work as an avalanche instructor and guide. When I moved to the Jackson area four years ago, I was amazed by the sense of community that this place holds. Tragedy, either loss of life, loss of access or emotional harm, is a part of living in a mountain town, and having the support of your town is the only way to get through these tragedies.
Since moving to Jackson, I’ve seen complete outrage over the Ikon Pass, a lack of affordable housing, and the price of a Snowking uphill pass being raised. I’ve seen this passion through the outdoor industry as a whole over Bear’s Ears National Monument and Utah’s inability to support pubic lands. We were so loud and powerful that we uprooted the entire Outdoor Retailer show and moved it to another state.
But I’m currently stuck wondering where our powerful, loud voices are now?
Recently, 17 letters were published from past participants of the local SHIFT
Festival’s Emerging Leaders Program (ELP) detailing incidents from the 2018 SHIFT Festival and asking that Executive Director Christian Beckwith step down. These letters are not my words, nor are they my story or my trauma. I am not here to speak for the 17 people who penned those letters, and it’s better to read them first hand. They can all be found here.
The demand that Executive Director Christian Beckwith step down was passed over and explained away with excuses that all boiled down to not wanting to hurt someone’s fragile, white male ego. While I recognize that I, a privileged white woman living in a very white town, cannot relate to or truly understand the impact of any of these traumas leading up to this demand, I can use my voice to get angry about these injustices and stand with those who were wronged in our outdoor community.
A friend recently made the connection between my work as an avalanche
instructor and diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) work. In the avalanche world, I’ve learned that the more you know, the more terrifying things can be. I see potential slides everywhere. I have a heightened sense of awareness of all the things I don’t know and am constantly calculating my uncertainty before rerouting to safer objectives. In short, I’ve become much more thoughtful about my actions and how they will ripple across in the community in both the backcountry and when engaging in DEI conversations.
Working for a non-profit that works to promote women in the outdoors, I’ve just barely dipped my toes into the waters of DEI, and I’ve seen that the more you know, the more you realize that you don’t know. No matter how good your intentions are, forging ahead without proper training will cause more pain than good. I was hesitant to write this letter, aware of the pain that DEI done wrong can cause. If you are still struggling to get past the fact that Beckwith had good intentions, and still caused this trauma, then think back to the Twin Slides avalanches that was human triggered on Teton Pass this past season. This incident wasn’t intentional, but both potentially put others in harm way. The person who caused the slide was met not only with high levels of backlash, but also a demand for accountability and a coordinated effort to change a standing culture. Here’s another example: Beckwith is
like the guy who just moved to town, but is stoked to ski out in Granite Canyon for the first time. He doesn’t recognize that he’s getting in way over his head and is putting others at risk in the process.
As an avalanche educator, I don’t promote avalanche shaming, but this town is good at it, and it has been harnessed to change the culture of backcountry skiing for the better. You all have strong, powerful voices that I’ve seen you use to benefit our community and support one another. You have all made impacts on our town. Now, members of our community who initially came to our town to help educate us are suffering emotional trauma at the hands of the SHIFT Festival and it’s Executive Director, and I’m watching you sit idly by.
Use your voice. Demand the same accountability we’ve asked for in the past. It’s time to stand with those who are fighting for justice in the outdoors and shift our culture for the better.
Betsy Manero
