My First Year with the United States Forest Service

A year ago today I met the Deputy Forest Supervisor at the front door of Pike-San Isabel National Forests & Cimarron and Comanche National Grasslands headquarters in Pueblo, Colorado. I was a little bit early for my first day of work. It was 7:49am, mountain time.

The last twelve months have been some of the most rewarding, enlightening, and at times, challenging moment of my life thus far. I thought maybe with this post I could shed a little light on my experiences, how I got the job, what it is exactly that I do, and general thoughts. I should also probably add that if I want to do this again next year, that in no way is this post (or any on this substack) endorsed by the United States Forest Service or United States federal government.

Whew. Got that out of the way. Let’s begin.

So what do I do for the United States Forest Service?

I am a Tribal Liaison, also called a Tribal Relations Specialist. If you go to the Forest Service Tribal Relations page, you can learn more about the many ways in which we are dedicated to co-stewardship and strengthening nation-to-nation relationships. In this regard, the Forest Service operates under a Tribal Action Plan. This plan helps us to honor our treaty and trust responsibilities with hundreds of Tribal communities.

There’s a guiding philosophy here that recognizes that the entirety of the United States rests upon Indigenous homelands. The forests are especially important for multiple reasons, not only for traditional and cultural practices, but because like Indigenous communities, they remain today. We have not only a legal obligation to work with Tribes but a moral one to ensure that these spaces are protected and used in appropriate ways. And this won’t come as shock to most of you reading this, but relations between the federal government and Indigenous communities haven’t always been the best. So I’m here to help with that. I’ll explain more below.

How did I get the gig?

Maybe we should have always seen it coming. I grew up in the woods and on the lakes and rivers of the South. It is where I feel most at home. I love history. And I love people.

I remember during my first meeting with my advisor once I got to the University of Minnesota. He asked point blank what I planned to do if I couldn’t get a job in academia. I remember being caught off guard by the question. What do you mean? I traveled all the way to Minnesota—the best Native history program in the country. I got nothing else in me. This has to work, I thought. But told him that maybe a career in the National Parks system might be a good alternative. David nodded in agreement and we began my tutelage.

Me at the University of Minnesota, 2015-2022

Quick sidenote- as professors if you aren’t asking that question, or as students if you are not hearing that question from your mentors, something is dreadfully wrong. I was kind of pissed when I got home that day, but David was brutally honest that day. I respect the hell out of him for asking that that day.

I finished my time at Minnesota with a Ph.D. in American history, writing a doctoral dissertation about how the introduction of cattle changed relationships between people, places, and the animals themselves in Florida. That work led to a wonderful time serving as an ethnographer for the Seminole Tribe of Florida for the better part of three years. I love the Tribe to this day and think back on my time there fondly. There will always be a little piece of me with folks down there. And when people elsewhere ask me about the Tribe, I tell them just how incredible the folks are there, the beauty of Seminole culture, and how much I love them. What an amazing experience I had there. Mvto and Shonabish.

After that project ended, I did some work for a company owned by the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians. It was contract work and not full-time but I was honored by their trust in me. I also did some freelance assistance on a book, so I got that under my belt too. That person knows how important she is to me.

But I needed a full-time job. I had famously bombed on the job market—it’s tough out there for everybody—and I’ve never quite had the best luck explaining my work as a historian to other historians. My dear friends Eric Leonard and Chris Barr (two amazing National Parks guys), encouraged me to consider federal service, and offered guidance and patience about how to navigate usajobs.gov.

One of the things that my time serving the Seminole Tribe of Florida taught me was just how much I loved the idea of serving a bigger cause, of serving someone else. We talk in academia about giving to communities, and this was an example of that. And man, did I love getting to know folks. So many people there. But especially elders. I’d get calls asking if I could come to a spot to meet an elder (I’m purposely witholding information here) because he wanted to go driving and talk about cattle. I had folks who supported my own research. And folks who just like to talk. There was meaning to that work.

I’ve said this before but I never talked about it in the moment because as an academic I didn’t ever want to be seen as using those relationships for my personal gain. My time now is a little different. I’m not a professor and I’m not looking for other jobs. So when people ask me about my time there, it is all love.

And thinking on that time convinced me that maybe my path lay elsewhere. Maybe I could be of service to other Indigenous communities. So I applied. After some real frustration learning the federal hiring process, I eventually landed the first job I interviewed for. And my duty station would be in Pueblo, Colorado. It meant leaving my boys in Florida, but I told myself, this was the path. One year and three days ago, I arrived in Colorado.

You tell ‘em, Morpheus.

Ok Jason, so what are your days like?

I remember the first conversation I had with my supervisor here at the Forest Service. I asked him which tribes we were working with and what I was supposed to be doing. The response was a cross between “we don’t really know” and “we were hoping you’d tell us.” Alright then. Let’s get to work.

One of the cool things about being a tribal liaison is that there are lots of folks in this position and there are lots of ways to come at the position. Some people have legal backgrounds, others in land management, other in sciences, etc. I come from a history background and I kind of allow that to shape the contours of what I do here. Because essentially, each liasion kind of determines how they uphold their responsibilities and their methods of engagement.

So my immediate challenges were threefold: 1) I didn’t know much about Southwestern geography or history; 2) I didn’t know anyone from any of the tribes; and 3) I didn’t know anything about working for the United States Forest Service. Easy peasy.

I decided then that the best way to approach this position was one of humility and service. In my mind, I internalize this job as one of being an advocate for Tribes here in the Forest Service and being a good communicator to the Tribes for the Forest Service. Essentially, my philosophy is allow Tribes to tell me the best way I can be of service to them. In doing so, I will uphold our treaty and trust responsibilities and be of service to the American taxpayers. Now, I still take direction from Forest Service leadership, but I have found people here to be enthusiastic about being of service and being good co-stewards of the land. So we’re gonna do all this together.

Since I didn’t really know anyone, one of the first things I thought I could do was get busy learning Colorado and western Kansas. It seemed to me that if I was gonna serve Tribes, the best thing I could do was do the due diligence of learning the landscapes that are important to them. What do they look like? How do they behave? What kinds of plants and animals are there? Who is visiting these places? What kinds of stories are we telling?

Fortunately, my friend Eric Leonard is stationed at Bent’s Old Fort about an hour and a half from here. He shares a commitment to honoring these spaces. So we got out and visited. We’ve been hiking and driving and seeing these places as best we can. So when I talk to folks, they know I give a damn. Last October, we climbed the Spanish Peaks. And folks, it’s hard not to be moved by them. And that’s the point. Gradually, you start to get what’s at stake. I’m no expert here, but it’s not from a lack of trying. And I think that’s often enough.

Hiking the western Spanish Peak, October 2023.

One of the amazing things—and it is amazing if you sit and think about it—is that every place you look is on Native land. There are lots of places that you can go and see and feel and learn. You can go hiking or hunting or fishing and be part of these places. So I have tried hard to do just that. My ventures into Colorado come from two places in the heart—to enjoy them for myself and to learn them so I can be better at protecting them and serving Tribes. I think the two can coexist at the same time.

Ok, so getting to see Colorado is pretty easy. I can hop in a truck and away I go. But how do I meet folks I’ve never met before? This is a bit trickier. I decided that in my position respecting Tribal sovereignty would be one of my guiding principles. This should probably be a no-brainer, but in reality I wanted to take nothing for granted. To show Tribal Members the respect they deserve means thinking everything out, from the clothes I wear to the words I use to the cars I drive. Everything deserves consideration.

In other words, I decided one thing I would not do is just show up on a reservation. Tribal lands are sovereign spaces and I as a federal representative did not want to just barge in. That would be an infringement of sovereignty. Further, those spaces are home to people. You just don’t barge in on someone’s home and ask to be friends.

So, I called upon a previous life as a car salesman, and eventually picked up the phone and called. It can be nerve-wracking at first. Tribal offices have a lot to do. And there’s probably not a lot of time for chit-chat, especially with some guy you’ve never heard of. But I called everyone I could think to call (calls are way better than emails), sometimes getting a person, sometimes not, and essentially introducing myself, letting folks know that if there was something I could help with to please let me know.

On some occasions, my fellow tribal liaisons in other forests would invite me along to introduce me to folks as well. I’m not dropping any names here, but you should know that we have some damn good people working in other forests as well. They too work really hard to be of service.

Working together in south central Colorado, September 2023. Photo shared with permission.

In other cases, I don’t just limit myself to Forest Service stuff. If it is important to Tribal Members, then it is important to me. That means if folks want me to meet with them someplace or attend a thing somewhere, I go. Not because I have to, but because showing support for folks is the best way you can show that you care. I wrote earlier this year about attending the Amache Pilgrimage, not because it is on Forest Service land, but because members of the Cheyenne and Arapaho Tribes and Northern Cheyenne Tribe would be there. I just felt like it was important to be there too. I hope I can continue this part of what I do.

I’ve tried to promote both my work and Colorado’s Indigenous heritage by going on news and podcasts out here. But I thought about conversations I had with Tribal Members here and decided that I would not pull punches. I don’t know that folks are prepared to hear a federal government employee talk openly and honestly about attempted genocide and forced displacement alongside wildlife management but that’s what folks are gonna get. We owe to to everyone to reckon with our past as we move to the future.

The other aspect of my job was about getting to know the people in the Forest Service. PSICC stewards about 3.5 million acres of land. That takes a lot of personnel to manage. You’ve got firefighters and botanists and law enforcement and timber managers and all kinds of people. We’ve got a bunch of districts. So I got on the road to meet with as many people as I could, learning from them, answering questions about me and our mission, and so forth. Th’ere’s also the ordeal of learning Forest Service protocols and acronyms and budgets. I’ll spare you the details, but it’s…a lot.

We’ll fast forward to today. I’ve been fortunate to establish relationships and real friendships with many of the tribes I serve, though I am continuing to try to get to know more people. I help advise leadership when and where I can, and try to answer questions throughout the forest service about what it is that I do. I answer to phone at all hours of the night. I get messages and texts and if I’m awake, I try to respond right away. I want folks to know that I care. And that means being available.

What’s the best part of the job?

That’s easy. It’s the people. Lemme start with the Forest Service. It’s really easy to be skeptical about the government. I get it. But the folks here and those I’ve encountered elsewhere really do care. They care about the environment and they care about each other. I genuinely look forward to seeing my colleagues, whether it’s the other guy from the South (he even has a gopher tortoise picture in his office) or our fleet guy, or front office people. You don’t work jobs like these unless you care. And I’ve received so many questions about history and culture from our staff. These folks really wanna know. And that is so encouraging.

Our leadership has been really supportive of my ideas and approaches. Ultimately, its their vision of how the forests and grasslands need to operate, so my goal is to help them achieve that. The cool thing is that everyone wins by incorporating Tribal voices into those plans. So I help when and where I can. I’ll also say that they’ve been really supportive of me on personal level. Everyone here knows that the boys are far away. They have made it clear that if I need to attend to the fellas, then that comes first. No questions asked. It makes doing the work even better.

It won’t surprise people how much I love working with Tribal Members out here. Remember that bit about not wanting to barge in on reservations? Eventually I started to be invited out. Folks, wait until you see for yourself the majesty of Ute Country or Jicarilla Apache Country. It is hard to put into words. And by the way, these are places you can visit. See the museums. Go to a pow wow or a festival. Eat a bunch of food (this part is really easy).

Wolf Creek Pass, near the Southern Ute and Ute Mountain Ute reservations in southwestern Colorado

Standing in front of Sleeping Ute Mountain near the Ute Mountain Ute Reservation

I have looked to Tribal Members for guidance at times. I don’t have family out here. But that hasn’t stopped many Tribal Members from treating me like that. One of my fondest memories was of attending my first Bear Dance earlier this year. I talked a good game about dancing but by the third day still had not actually danced. I wanted to chicken out. And folks, I got chewed out by someone who cares very much about me. She told me that if I was serious about learning Ute culture, then I’d get my ass out there and do it. And she was right. And I did. I danced in Bear Dance. And I cannot wait to do it again.

Ready for my first Bear Dance with my first ribbon shirt!

I don’t know how to not share. I tried at first, but it felt inauthentic. I shared with one gentleman about how difficult it was to be out here sometimes and how much I missed my boys. He told me that I always have a home with the Southern Ute. And I cannot tell you how much that meant to me. I think about it often.

I’m only sharing the tiniest portion of things I’ve done and felt, and more importantly feel appropriate to share with you here. But what I do what you to know is how much I have valued getting to know the many people I serve. It is life affirming in so many ways. Simply put, I really love this job.

What the the biggest challenges?

Professionally the biggest hurdle has been learning so much stuff. There’s all the stuff with the Forest Service, protocols, handbooks, budgets, you name it. And so many acronyms. But that will come with time.

The biggest challenge to me personally is that my two boys live two thousand miles away. This is a painful daily reality for me. There’s no way to explain the hurt that comes from living without your children nearby, similar to how there’s no real way to explain the love a parent has for their children without experiencing it for yourself. I promise you, that this is something I do not wish on anyone. Let me be clear: there is nothing romantic about being separated from your kids. It is awful.

Now, some of that is mitigated by the fact that I have a wonderful friend in my ex-wife who provides so much for our boys. Moving out here was a decision I made with her consultation. To her great credit, she understands that our boys need their dad and vice-versa. So she has helped make possible this adventure by helping with flights and travel and keeping me updated on the fellas. And more than that, running the day-to-day operations of Herbert, Inc. So I facetime with the fellas. Send memes. Help on homework. Play video games online with the boys. Do whatever I can to shorten the distance.

So how do I do it? I bury myself in the work. If I’m going to be here then I am going to give the Tribes and the Forest Service every last part of me. I’m always on call. Yes, I’ve been asked to take days off before. No, I don’t like taking days off. I want my life to be about giving to people, whether it’s the Tribes or the HATM community. That’s it.

So what’s next in Year Two?

Assuming that I haven’t violated any rules or offended anyone with this post, I want to continue to get to know the folks I serve out here. I want to visit more communities. Spend more time together. Learn. Earn trust. Be a good human.

I figure I’ll continue to learn about how the Forest Service works as long as I am patient. Give it time. Allow that stuff to come to me over time.

If I’m being extra self-important, there’s a part of me that definitely wants to show the different kinds of things you can do with a history degree. To be a model of not giving up, and being open to whatever path is front of you. Most importantly, I hope to model that you can do good work for good people, wherever you are and whatever you’re doing.

So I guess that’s it. And as a little celebration of my own, there will be donuts in the break room.

Thanks for reading.

J