Introducing the Women Shaping Travel Right Now

How should we use our power, once we have it? As the CEO and founder of El Camino Travel, a company that organizes small group trips and builds community among women travelers, I am always thinking about what guests want out of their travels—and what direction we, as an industry, are headed. It's 2024, yet the CEOs of most major travel companies are still men, dictating the trajectory of a marketplace in which women account for 85% of travel planning decisions and spend $125 billion annually on trips. It’s no doubt the reason so many of our community members tell me they have struggled to find experiences that speak to them in the marketplace.

But this year’s Women Who Travel Power List, which I was previously honored on, is a vivid reminder that the people actually driving the wider conversation around travel, and the many ways we choose to define it, are by and large women. Change doesn’t only come from the corner office. It is inspired by influencers like Charlotte Simpson, best known for her IG account @travelingblackwidow, who is redefining the societal narrative about finding joy as a single traveler in later years. It’s model and activist Quannah Chasinghorse (Hän Gwich’in and Sičangu/Oglala Lakota), whose efforts for Native land rights and environmental protection hold me accountable to critically reassess our impact at El Camino, on both the places we go and the people we meet. There are also women who use their knowledge of the world to create greater cultural understanding. Take singer Kali Uchis, for example, whose music beautifully bridges American and Latin American cultures, blending sounds that are both exotic and familiar, depending on who you ask. I imagine a first-time visitor to Colombia, my parent’s homeland, finding comfort in the rhythms they’ve come to know through her songs.

There are also women who underscore the fact that travel transcends leisure. I think of Bisan Owda, the Palestinian travel creator, whose content was once focused on joyfully celebrating her culture—but who has now, out of necessity, become a civic journalist offering the world a look into her current reality in Gaza.

These women are changing the tides of a once gate-kept industry from so many different directions. They are the ones who get me fired up about what the next decade of travel could look like. In 2024, we aren’t just dreaming of a more representative future; it’s being built up, all around us, by the most impressive of women. —Katalina Mayorga

Lolá Ákínmádé

“If I could sum up every single thing I do with just three words, it's, I see you,” says award-winning author and travel photographer Lolá Ákínmádé. The Nigerian-American-Swedish storyteller, currently based in Sweden, didn’t see women who looked like her when she entered the travel media industry 17 years ago—she has since made it her mission to foster cultural connections and create community among those who have also felt excluded from mainstream travel narratives. From photographing Inuit mushers and their huskies in Greenland for National Geographic Traveller to writing novels about navigating the world as a Black woman, Ákínmádé’s work showcases the beauty of the world while addressing important social issues such as racism, classism, tokenism, and fetishization. “A lot of the stories I write are about what it feels like to live in my skin in a place where I'm a minority, a visible minority,” she says. Ákínmádé is also intentional about appearing in high-profile publications and platforms as a speaker and photography expert, and adamant that she is visible for others, particularly people of color who may want to follow in her footsteps. “I’m a big believer of creating your own table instead of begging to be at somebody else's,” says Ákínmádé. ”I'm also a big believer in shaking tables where your narratives are being crafted without your voice.” Through her Geotraveler Media Academy, she mentors aspiring storytellers and leads intimate photography workshops where she can show people ways of seeing the world that honor the places they delve into. Her popular Aurora workshop, for example, takes travelers to northern Sweden to learn about reindeer herding culture from the Indigenous Sámi, whose deep connection to the environment and stories of their homeland create meaningful experiences for guests. “It's not about consumerism,” she says, “but traveling with intention, photographing the places we visit with respect, and making sure that we're fully acknowledging the people we interact with.” —Katherine Gallardo

Katia Barros

When Katia Barros created Rio de Janeiro-based fashion brand Farm Rio 25 years ago, she was struck by the lack of color she saw in the clothing around her. “Amazingly, Brazilian fashion was very linked to international collections,” she says. “I immediately started adding color—it has so much to do with our culture, our geography, and our personality as a country.” In the decades since, bright maxi dresses, floral blouses, and skirts with punchy prints have defined Farm Rio as the ultimate vacation attire. “When you [travel], you allow yourself to do more, even in how you dress.” As Farm Rio has expanded beyond Brazil (its first US store opened in New York in 2019) Barros has taken the country’s “party culture and joy” to new audiences and locales. In 2020, Farm Rio partnered with Levi’s on painted denim jackets and jeans designed for city adventures. Then, in 2022, the brand launched its first-ever ski collection, with hot pink jumpsuits and toucan-adorned snow pants. “In Brazil, the place to have fun is the beach, but in other countries, you go to the snow,” says Barros. “It’s about bringing this feeling of joyfulness to many places.” (Barros got “hooked” on skiing while researching the collection.) Now, Farm Rio’s lines are sold in 39 countries. As global expansion continues, with new stores in Los Angeles and Paris on the horizon (both set to open this May), Barros hasn’t forgotten her roots. In January, Farm Rio launched a collaboration with the iconic Copacabana Palace for the hotel’s 100th anniversary; in February, Farm Rio launched a new capsule celebrating seven years of partnership with the Yawanawa community in the Amazon, through which 180 women have contributed their artisanry to the brand’s jewelry collection. “Farm Rio is more than a lifestyle,” Barros says. “It embodies and represents our culture.” —Megan Spurrell (interview translation by Tatiana Cury)

Quannah ChasingHorse

There aren’t enough hyphens to do Quannah ChasingHorse (Hän Gwich’in and Sičangu/Oglala Lakota) justice. She’s a model, actress, Indigenous rights advocate, climate warrior, and land and water protector who’s urging all of us to be more intentional in how we move about the world. Hailing from Eagle Village, Alaska, the 21-year-old activist encourages globetrotters to ask themselves: “Whose land am I on?” The question should prompt visitors to learn about the history and current events of any given destination, particularly if it’s an Indigenous community. “It’s super important for travelers to learn about, not just the people living there, but also the environmental crises and other issues going on—to ensure they’re not taking up space in a way that perpetuates harm to that community,” she explains. “For instance, Alaska is going through some of the worst climate catastrophes [in the state’s history], with extreme weather that’s devastating our lands, our waters, our animals, our communities, and our economy.” In some cases, ChasingHorse says, travelers might determine upon researching that the most responsible decision is not visiting those places at all. ChasingHorse uses her vast platform across fashion, entertainment, and environmentalism to uplift Native stories, hold brands accountable, and remind us of our shared humanity. “No human is less than another; we all deserve to breathe clean air, drink clean water, and live a happy, healthy life,” she says. “With everything that’s happening in the world right now, I’d love to see more people stand in solidarity with voices that need to be heard, with people who need to be seen.” Her work will continue: ChasingHorse just served as co-chair for the annual Green Carpet Fashion Awards and narrated and executive produced the new film Bad River about the namesake tribe’s battle for its land, culture, identity, and Lake Superior (out March 15 in select AMC Theaters). Says ChasingHorse: “We need to remain loving, compassionate, and open-minded about other people’s perspectives.” —Kate Nelson

Cynthia Chavez Lamar

When Cynthia Chavez Lamar (San Felipe Pueblo/Hopi/Tewa/Navajo) became director of the National Museum of the American Indian (NMAI) in 2022, she made history as the first Native American woman to head a Smithsonian museum. Since then, she’s been deepening relationships with tribal communities whose cultures are represented in the institution’s collections. “We want audiences to learn from Native artists, leaders, and cultural bearers just how meaningful a piece of pottery or a cradleboard is,” says the curator and scholar, who’s been named one of the most powerful women in Washington, D.C. “It’s so important that audiences recognize that Indigenous peoples are very much part of the fabric of American and global society.” NMAI is leading the national charge when it comes to repatriation and shared stewardship of tribal artifacts. “There’s still a lot of work to be done, but we’re coming at it with the mindset that it’s a very different day and age [regarding] ideas of ownership and care,” Chavez Lamar says. She’s looking forward to this summer’s Smithsonian Folklife Festival focused on Indigenous Voices of the Americas (complete with cultural programming, musical performances, cooking demos, and more), when she hopes to see the National Mall filled with Native visitors—just like it was for the 2022 dedication of the National Native American Veterans Memorial, one of her proudest accomplishments. If NMAI museum goers come away with just one lesson, she asks that it be an understanding that Native peoples “have been part of American history since the very beginning, even before written history.” —K.N.

Aditi Dugar

Growing up in a large multigenerational family in Mumbai, Aditi Dugar has long known what an elaborate kitchen operation looks like. “I had 15 first cousins, so every meal was like a catering event,” she says. It was handy prep for when, in her twenties, she swapped a career in finance for food. “I’m a hustler,” she says, recounting how, without formal training, she pressed her way into an apprenticeship at Le Gavroche in London, then persuaded her family to let her run a boutique catering company (“non-vegetarian food in a Marwari household is a sensitive subject”). When Dugar came across a disused space in a textile mill compound in Mumbai, the seeds of a new kind of dining destination were sown. After 18 months of traveling across India to meet farmers, she and Prateek Sadhu, an exciting young chef, opened Masque in 2016 with an ingredients-first approach combined with a New Nordic-style multi-sensory dining experience—all served via a chef’s tasting menu. “The first few years were great because diners had never seen anything like it,” she says. But when Sadhu left in 2022, Dugar—intuiting another shift in the Indian palette—saw an opportunity to double down on regional cooking. A year later, with chef Varun Totlani at its helm, Masque topped India’s restaurants on Asia’s 50 Best, making Dugar the first Indian woman restaurateur to feature on it. “We combine things like seaweed harvested from Goa with seasonal green ponkh from Gujrat for our spin on bhel,” says Dugar. In January this year, Masque took to the road, with a pop-up at Nahargarh Fort on the fringes of the Ranthambore forest, and then in a mango farm in Chennai, where 100 diners sat at a single wooden table for a dinner by India’s top chefs, including Totlani. “Everyone says fine-dining Indian restaurants aren’t valuable investments and they’re wrong,” says Dugar, “But Masque is more than that: it’s a platform to showcase India—and there’s an exciting future in that.” —Arati Menon

Laila Gohar

Just as many travelers pick up souvenirs, Cairo-born artist Laila Gohar gathers morsels of creative fuel as she moves through the world. “Inspiration is not a linear process—it’s sort of like a web of visual and nonvisual cues, and those that resonate leave a little flash or impression on the brain.” The tease of crochet in a restaurant check-holder in Porto, Portugal, for example, might later influence a collection of delightfully bizarre housewares for Gohar World (the eccentric tableware brand she founded with her sister, Nadia), or an installation of eight-foot-tall cakes filling the garden of the Prince de Galles, a Luxury Collection Hotel, in Paris, part of her role as Global Explorer for The Luxury Collection. “When you travel, you have heightened senses,” says Gohar. “I feel like you become a sponge, ready for new experiences.” As much as travel energizes Gohar, her often absurdist designs are leaving an imprint on the places she visits, too. In addition to Paris, she worked with artisans in Kyoto on a barware collection for The Luxury Collection. She also recently completed an installation for Mexico City Art Week, featuring a room of photographs layered with food items, and is headed to Milan in April to lend her touch to design fair Salone Mobile. The world of Gohar doesn’t end there: “My dream is to design an amusement park,” she muses, describing an Epcot-like experience where instead of moving through various countries, you’d explore further afield, like the moon or sun. In the more immediate future, Gohar and her partner, chef and restaurateur Ignacio Mattos, hope to fuse their hospitality know-how into an experience set on this planet. “We dream about buying a felucca, a traditional ancient Egyptian boat, and transforming it into a hotel,” she says. “A little bit Orient Express, but we’d lean more into Egyptian history, and there’d be dining experiences in remote towns along the Nile, where there’s nothing around and it feels surreal and magical.” May we all look forward to fighting for a booking. —M.S.

Emily Henry

For bestselling novelist Emily Henry, the setting comes first. “Even before I was publishing, when I was trying to write fantasy, I would have a world that I was excited about, but like, no plot whatsoever,” she says. Her days as an unpublished author are long gone of course. Henry’s first adult romance novel, Beach Read, came out in 2020 and follows its romance-author protagonist in a summer bet with her hunky neighbor (a literary fiction author) to convince him of the genre’s merit—a cheeky meta-commentary of sorts about her own writing. Since then, she’s published at an impressively steady clip: People We Meet on Vacation in 2021; Book Lovers in 2022; and Happy Place in 2023. Her books are set in the types of places most people dream about on gray afternoons at the office: North Carolina’s Smoky Mountains; the rocky coast of Maine; sun-drenched Palm Springs. If you’ve stepped foot in a bookstore or cast your eye down a row of hotel sun loungers recently, you’ve seen her impact. Henry has sold millions of copies, and at least three of her titles are contributing to Hollywood’s burgeoning romcom-aissance. A midwesterner, Henry and her protagonists often share some on-paper similarities—hovering around 30, in some way connected to publishing—and her new novel, Funny Story, is set in Waning Bay, Michigan, “a fictional Traverse City.” When she was writing it last year, she rented an Airbnb and “really lived there” (the real TC, that is): “There's a reference in the book that [is] based on a bait and tackle shop that is also a barber shop,” says Henry, who was introduced to it by YA writer Brittany Cavallaro and then “tweaked” the details so “it’s not exactly the same thing.” It’s a perfect illustration of how Henry lands on her locations, however fictionalized: “It has to be a place I've traveled a lot. What's drawn me there initially is just that I know people there and I [visit] them,” she says. “Then they get to play tour guide.” —Nora Biette-Timmons

Shay Mitchell

When Canadian actor and entrepreneur Shay Mitchell mocked up the original design of Béis’s signature Weekender bag on an airplane napkin, she couldn’t have imagined it was the first step towards growing a $200 million company. Mitchell, who rose to prominence via roles in Pretty Little Liars and You, founded Béis in 2018 with just five employees, after seeing a gap in the market for luggage that was equally fashionable, functional, and affordable. “My bag shouldn’t cost as much as the trip I’m taking,” she says. Mitchell now oversees a team of 30 (mostly women) employees and has become a leading figure in the luggage space—popularizing smart features like built-in weight indicators and dedicated shoe compartments, and winning over the next generation of travelers on TikTok and Instagram; even personalities like Alix Earle and Hailey Bieber have given Béis their stamp of approval. But for Mitchell, it was never just about designing luggage. “We want people to get out there in the world—no matter where it is—and you don’t always need a plane ticket to do so.” What started as traditional duffels and suitcases has now expanded to sustainably-made shopping totes for the farmer’s market, chic diaper bags for parents, and kid-friendly rollers, the latter of which was inspired by her two young daughters and their growing travel needs. Looking ahead, traveling to meet consumers in real life is a priority when it comes to maintaining Béis’s success, whether that's across the US and Canada, or to the Philippines, where her mother was born. Unlike other celebrity founders, though, Mitchell prefers to keep her high-profile name out of the Béis branding. “The products will speak for themselves,” she says. —Meaghan Kenny

Bisan Owda

In her Instagram dispatches, Palestinian journalist Bisan Owda often greets her 4.3 million followers with the same words: “Hey everyone, this is Bisan from Gaza; we're still alive.” Amid Israel's ongoing bombardment of the Gaza Strip, her refrain serves as a reminder of the steep risks local reporters face to share unfiltered accounts of what is unraveling on the ground. The reality is stark; at least 90 Palestinian journalists have been killed since the war began, making it the deadliest war for reporters since recording commenced in 1992, according to the Committee to Protect Journalists. While some of Owda's peers, including Motaz Azaiza, Plestia Alaqad, and Wael Dahdouh, have ultimately left Gaza for safety or medical care, the 25-year-old remains. Reporting from bombed-out buildings, makeshift shelters, and the hallways of overcrowded hospitals, Owda offers a vivid portrayal of daily life in Gaza, documenting the challenges facing Palestinian doctors and exploring the mental health impacts of war, as well as the disturbing realities children have been forced to contend with; her work has also sought to show the resilience of Palestinian mothers. Many have come to know Owda for her war reporting, but before the war she was a filmmaker and youth activist committed to advancing gender equality in Palestine. She vlogged about travel and culture, too, channeling her appreciation for the ancient Arab tradition of oral storytelling (known as Hakawati) in the TV show Hakawatya. Pre-war Instagram posts—everything from a look inside Palestine’s first women-only boxing academy to selfies on the beach at sunset—show a hopeful, curly-haired Owda, full of ambition, curiosity about the world, and a deep love for Gaza. “We still have the rain, the sun, and the sea, and of course, the rainbow," she shared in a February 3 post. "I hope we are so near to a permanent ceasefire and to a return to our homes, our places, to a rebuilding of our hopes and dreams." —Zahra Hankir

Amanda Silverman

It was a New York Times Styles story about the cultural impact of Snoop Dogg sporting a Tommy Hilfiger rugby shirt on Saturday Night Live that initially piqued Amanda Silverman’s interest in publicity. “I just thought it was fascinating the power that artists have when they are in the press, on culture and fashion and politics,” she says over the phone from her New York office. Silverman has since spent two decades turning this curiosity into a booming business as the co-founder and co-chief executive officer of The Lede Company, one of Hollywood's most powerful PR firms. With a highly-coveted roster of clients including Rihanna, Lady Gaga, Amy Schumer, Penélope Cruz, and Pharrell Williams (to name a few), Silverman is on the road “all the time” as their right-hand woman, guiding high-profile talent through interviews and media appearances. This requires her managing some of the most complicated travel schedules imaginable—it’s not uncommon for Silverman to hop from New York City with Pharrell to the Super Bowl with Rihanna. With high-profile clients constantly hitting red carpets or on tour, it can be “hectic” especially if she’s several continents away. “When you're in Asia or Europe, you're working New York, LA hours, so all through the night,” she explains. But work has also allowed her to have some unforgettable experiences, like accompanying her client and native South African Charlize Theron to locations where her foundation The Charlize Theron Africa Outreach Project helps with sexual and reproductive health advocacy. “For part of it, Oprah was there doing a piece on the work she was doing and it was just so impressive,” she says. “We went on a safari, it was nothing I've ever experienced.” With “90 percent” of her excursions related to running her company, Silverman has carefully set aside three vacations a year with her husband and two kids—like hiking biking and swimming in Mykonos or visiting Anguilla with family friends. This year, she’s venturing to Costa Rica. With each excursion, she tries to prioritize taking a tech break. “It only makes you better at your job.” —Ilana Kaplan

Charlotte Simpson

Recently, Charlotte Simpson was hiking alone on Angel Island in California when she spotted a bear. She credits years of solo travel for the fact that she didn’t pass out on the spot. Instead, she made a plan: Play dead. But as she continued walking, Simpson realized the “deadly predator” was actually just a rotting tree. On a call from her home in Indianapolis she recalls laughing at herself in the moment, then feeling empowered. “Every time I take a trip there's something else I discover about myself,” she says. “I think it's the ultimate in self-care and self-discovery.” Simpson has come a long way as a traveler: A retired special education teacher and guidance counselor, she was once entirely dependent on her husband, Roy, as a travel partner. While she did almost all of the family’s trip planning, he was the one who seized any opportunity for an adventure: “I’d be like, you go ahead and do whatever scary adventure, I’ll sit here, have a glass of wine and watch you.” After Roy passed away in 2008, shortly after they had both retired, Simpson slowly found the confidence to explore the world on her own. Now, the woman who was once happy to let her husband lead chases the adventures herself: Hot air balloon rides over the Maasai Mara in Kenya, zip lining through a St. Lucia rainforest, and meditating with a Buddhist monk in South Korea, among them. She documents all of this via her Instagram handle @TravelingBlackWidow, which Simpson says brought “a whole new joy” to her life since starting the account in 2014. It has since ballooned into a community of 27.5K followers. In an arena dominated by millennial and Gen Z content creators, Simpson’s platform speaks to travelers who are often left out of the conversation. Midlife and older women see themselves pursuing bigger lives as a result of her travels, frequently seeking solo travel advice in the comments; younger followers show her posts to their parents, especially those who’ve recently lost a spouse. “Many have said they admire my energy and my gutsiness,” says Simpson, who has visited all seven continents and reached her 100^th country, Malta, in 2023. They are traits she’s embracing and hoping will inspire others—even as she continues to battle her own fears and shyness. “There's a whole big world out there and so many women just aren't getting what it has to offer.” —Heather Greenwood Davis

Anomien Smith

The work of Johannesburg-based architect Anomien Smith aims to honor that which came first. “Our infrastructure should help nature shine,” says Smith, the creative director and principal architect at sustainably-minded hospitality design firm, Luxury Frontiers, which earned its reputation creating Africa’s leading safari camps, and partnering with brands like Wilderness on destinations where the design never scars the land or distracts from the environment. At Puku Ridge in Zambia, an artful assemblage of timber respects the natural flows of the area’s floodplain. Wilderness Usawa, in the Serengeti, has canvas tents crafted with mesh walls for cooling—and fully immersive views of the Great Migration—creating the sensation of sleeping on the open savannah. But for Smith, the physical environment is just one influence. “Sustainability means cultural preservation,” she says. “It means making sure heritage is maintained.” She takes cues from the local vernacular: For a current project in the Middle East, she is using the stone materials seen in endemic shepherd huts and angling her structures to catch mountain breezes. “You need to let the site guide you, and pay attention to the building practices that have been there for ages,” she says. And in an industry where luxury and responsibility are increasingly synonymous, Smith is bringing this uniquely African design ethos—one with conservation in its DNA—to the global stage. Recent projects include Camp Sarika at Utah’s singular Amangiri, where an elevated roof creates a passive cooling system; Mexico’s award-winning Four Seasons Naviva, made of renewable materials like bamboo; the all-recyclable canvas tents at Costa Rica’s leading eco retreat, Nayara Tented Camp (word is that owner Leo Ghitis admired his safari set up in Botswana so much, he insisted Smith and her team design for him back home); with more projects in the Americas, including inside Virginia’s pristine Shenandoah National Park (Simply Shenandoah, coming 2026), on the horizon. “Our model is protection first, hospitality second,” she says. “I believe that is the way forward.” —Erin Florio

Kali Uchis

On her top-charting album Orquídeas, released in January, the Grammy-winning soulstress Kali Uchis offers a sonic first class passage through Latin America—using her beloved Colombia, and elements of Cuban son, reggaetón, and merengue, as a launch pad. Born in Alexandria, Virginia, to Colombian immigrants, 30-year-old Uchis spent much of her childhood in transit between the US and her parents’ hometown of Pereira, an Andean city at the center of the Coffee Axis. As a teen, Uchis played saxophone in her high school jazz band, while hopping from rasta to punk parties with her cousins during visits to Colombia. It was in that liminal state of in-between, she says, where her creativity began to flourish. “I got to experience both worlds,” the artist said in a 2018 interview for Rolling Stone. “That was really nice to have as a kid, and I would definitely want to give that to my own kid—the ability to have multiple places to call home.” Citing inspiration from timeless Latina icons who sang in English and Spanish—namely Shakira, Christina Aguilera, and La Lupe—Uchis’ blended upbringing plays a critical role in many of her songs and music videos. In her first No. 1 hit “Telepatía,” a long-distance love ballad sung in Spanglish, Uchis treads goddess-like through the hilly streets of Pereira, imbuing the town’s verdant scenery and colorful stacked houses with an air of Old Hollywood romance. “A kilómetros estamos conectando [we are connecting kilometers away],” she sings of her far away flame. “Moving in between languages [often] feels like working overtime,” she said in a 2024 interview with the Los Angeles Times. With Orquídeas, she dares listeners to embrace not just Latin music, but a kaleidoscopic pop future that traverses borders both musical and geographical. “I [want to] expand what it means to make popular music today,” she said. “Our music can extend beyond the niche.” —Suzy Exposito

Lulu Wang

When Nicole Kidman approached Lulu Wang to collaborate on an upcoming project, the director’s gut reaction was to say no. “So often in the industry, somebody makes a film that's a hit and people want to snatch them up to make a big studio movie where they don't get full creative control,” says Wang, whose 2019 film The Farewell clocked numerous awards and earned lead actor Awkwafina a Golden Globe win. “And then, whether it works or fails, you're not quite sure if it's because of you.” But Kidman won her trust, and the pair created Expats, the six-part TV adaptation of Janice Y.K. Lee’s novel The Expatriates, with Kidman starring and Wang directing. The show, which wrapped up on Amazon Prime on February 23, follows a group of foreigners in Hong Kong as their lives unravel in the wake of a traumatic event, exploring complex issues of class, privilege, domestic labor, and motherhood against a glittering backdrop of soaring high rises and neon signs. “Hong Kong being a central character was essential for the series, but also for me to be interested in making it,” she says. “There's not just an intersection of East and West, old world, new world, but an intersection of so many different identities, different classes, different races, different genders, and the conflicts and friendships that come with it.” For Wang, who was born in China and moved with her parents to the US at age six, the show was also an opportunity to interrogate the thorny word of “expat” itself: why some people get to call themselves one, while others are immigrants. Even as she becomes more established within mainstream Hollywood, filmmaking will always be her tool for asking uncomfortable questions. “For a long time I got used to working from a place of feeling hidden, like nobody's watching,” says Wang. “The more that you are in your power, the more that you trust yourself and your voice, the more you go against the grain and challenge the status quo, the more fearless you are.” —Lale Arikoglu

Listen to the complete interview with Lulu Wang on the Women Who Travel podcast.

Dr. Rae Wynn-Grant

Growing up in San Francisco, Dr. Rae Wynn-Grant’s only exposure to the wilderness was through nature documentaries. “I remember realizing, ‘There are jungles out there,’” she says. The wildlife ecologist knew that she wanted to someday host a nature show of her own, but had no clear road map for how to achieve that. Her journey to becoming a co-host of Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom, first broadcast on NBC in 1963, is a study in both perseverance and pivoting. She studied environmental science in college, realizing that “TV show or no TV show, I can have a career helping to design the science that saves endangered species from extinction and takes me around the world and offers me adventures—and I can be a smarty-pants scientist.” Her research took her from the mountains of Montana to the savannahs of Tanzania to the jungles of Madagascar, often as the first Black American woman entering these spaces in a position of scientific authority and expertise—experiences she chronicles in her forthcoming memoir, WILD LIFE: Finding My Purpose in an Untamed World, out April 2. The more she immersed herself in her work, the more she realized her passion for ecology and equity intersected. “I had been taught to keep science and social justice very, very separate, and they came crashing together over and over,” she says. Using her platform today, she advocates for better representation in environmental work. “I don't think any of us are happy with the place the environment is in right now. The habitual practice of excluding certain people and elevating others to leadership has gotten us to this point,” Dr. Wynn-Grant says. “Having more people from diverse backgrounds with different experiences that come from different parts of the world, or different ideologies or societies or communities, will only strengthen the ideas and innovations that are necessary in order to create a healthy, balanced planet.” —Sarah Khan

Credits

Lead editors: Lale Arikoglu, Megan Spurrell

Research: Alexandra Sanidad

Lead visuals: Andrea Edelman, Pallavi Kumar

Supporting visuals: Matt Buck, Karin Mueller, Zoe Westman

Global social lead: Mercedes Bleth

Supporting social media: Emily Adler, Kayla Brock, Crystal Waterton

Newsletters: Erin Paterson, Claire Leaper

Public relations: Erin Kaplan

Special thanks: Virginia Buedo, Eva Duncan, Jude Kampfner, Eugene Shevertalov, Jessica Rach

Read the ‘2023 Women Who Travel Power List’ here.