A taste of the Middle East

A group of Williams students recently gathered in the First Congregational Church’s kitchen to prepare loaves of bread. They didn’t use mixers or food processors—just their hands, an ancient recipe for holy bread and a set of wooden Greek, Coptic and Syrian bread stamps borrowed from their professor, Febe Armanios.

As they kneaded and stamped and dusted the loaves with flour, concepts from Armanios’ class, Food in the Middle East: A History, began to snap into focus.

Profile written for Williams College.

Zine scene

As an activist involved in sustainability and other campus movements, Coco Rhum ’24 is always looking for new ways to educate and engage people. For that reason, she’s exploring an interest in zines—self-published, small-circulation magazines that often provide a platform for voices that might not be heard otherwise.

With roots stretching back to abolitionist papers in the 1830s, zines gained ground as alternative media during the 1950s and 1960s. They’re typically printed through inexpensive means, like photocopying, but some modern zines are also distributed digitally. A zine can be produced as a single issue or as part of an ongoing series, and the structure can range from journalistic to literary to abstract.

“Zines have a long history of being countercultural publications,” Rhum says. “They allow for a certain freedom and subversiveness that doesn’t normally happen in the mainstream publishing industry.”

Profile written for Williams College.

Friendships that help healing

On April 24, 2003, Austin Duncan ’02, was traveling around Egypt with his friend Ningchuan Zhu ’02 while on a break from his Fulbright-funded research in Kuwait. The two had spent the day wandering around Cairo before taking a train to Luxor. Duncan remembers crossing the Corniche, a promenade along the east bank of the Nile, and walking toward the Luxor Temple. He turned and shouted back to Zhu, “Stop being scared and just cross the road.”

That’s the moment everything went blank.

A mirror on the side of a bus hit Duncan’s head, sending him flying several feet into the air. Zhu came running to find him unconscious and bleeding in the middle of the Corniche. A British nurse eating lunch across the street rushed over, instructing Zhu to take his shirt off and wrap it around Duncan’s head. The police arrived. Duncan was taken to a hospital in Luxor, then transported to one in Cairo and, later, two in the U.S.

Duncan had suffered a traumatic brain injury (TBI) and didn’t regain consciousness for more than a month. His first memory after the accident is of his 23rd birthday, on June 7, 2003. He remembers sitting on the grass outside a hospital in Seattle, Wash., his IVs still connected, surrounded by his parents and former Williams classmates from Woodbridge House: Kari Sutherland ’02, Ronit Stahl ’02, Rachel Seys ’02 and Abigail Rosenthal ’02. Some had been visiting Duncan since his transfer to the U.S., while he was still unconscious.

Profile written for Williams College.

Tech translator

Throughout her career, Ryan Triplette, L’03, has worked at the intersection of technology and the law.

Early on, she served as chief intellectual property counsel for the Senate Judiciary Committee before transitioning to director of government relations for Intel. Triplette then went to work as a principal for Franklin Square Group, a boutique government relations firm in Washington, D.C., where she advised technology companies facing existential legislative and regulatory issues in the U.S. “I like to think of myself as a translator between technology companies and governments,” she said.

Four years ago, Triplette broadened her scope by launching Canary Global Strategic. She now splits her time between Paris and Washington helping technology companies understand the regulatory implications of entering new markets and craft strategic ways of introducing new products and their impact to relevant policymakers.

This profile of Ryan Triplette originally appeared in the winter 2022 issue of Richmond Law Magazine.

The making of a more perfect union

In the year leading up to the passage of the 13th Amendment, which abolished slavery in the United States, a coalition formed among Black civil rights advocates, white abolitionists, and the women’s rights movement. It was a supergroup of activists — Frederick Douglass, William Lloyd Garrison, Wendell Phillips, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Susan B. Anthony, Lucy Stone — all aligned and working together toward freedom and abolition.

After the 13th Amendment was ratified in 1865, however, the coalition began to crack.

Douglass had long believed that there would never be equality in the South, that Black Americans would never be treated as equal citizens or receive equal protection, until they had the right to vote. Then, they could establish political power centers to negotiate economic rights, edu- cation, and more.

At the same time, women’s suffrage advocates were also calling for the right to vote, but they began to see momentum shift toward giving Black males the right first. The arguments between the two factions intensified. Suffragists Anthony and Stanton drew criticism for accepting funding from George Francis Train, a wealthy philanthropist who saw women’s suffrage as a way to contain the political power of Blacks. Meanwhile, Douglass, who sup- ported universal rights for women, argued that the right to vote was more crucial for Black men.

The disagreement came to a head at the annual meet- ing of the American Equal Rights Association on May 12, 1869. After Stanton and Anthony made their case that educated white women deserved the right to vote before Black men did, Douglass stood up to address the crowd.

Richmond Law professor Kurt Lash has crafted the authoritative collection of documents related to the passage of the 13th, 14th, and 15th Amendments. This feature, which details his process for producing the two-volume, 1,300-page collection, appeared in the winter 2022 issue of Richmond Law Magazine.

A shot at normalcy

The Covid-19 pandemic changed everything about how Brad Wasserman ’96 and his colleagues at Oberlin Road Pediatrics practiced medicine. They divided up their office to create separate areas for sick and well patients. They closed their waiting room and asked patients to stay outside until their appointments began. And Wasserman, one of nine pediatricians at the practice, located just a few miles from the State Capitol building in Raleigh, N.C., converted his 43-year-old school bus into an onsite flu shot clinic.

The Oberlin Road staff also took early steps to prepare for one crucial pandemic milestone: the approval of Covid-19 vaccines for children. In May, they began administering shots to kids age 12 and up. Then, shortly after the Pfizer vaccine was approved for 5- to 11-year-olds in early November, Oberlin Road received its first allotment. They’ve seen a steady stream of young patients ever since.

We spoke to Wasserman about rolling out the vaccines, addressing parents’—and patients’—concerns and the aptly named “Cool Bus.”

Q&A written for Williams College.

They were first

This fall, 16 percent of students at Macalester are among the first in their family to attend college.

They come from all kinds of backgrounds: rural and urban, BIPOC and white, immigrant and U.S.-born, low income and solidly middle class. They’re just as academically and intellectually prepared as students with a family history of college attendance. But they often need a little extra help with the information that students whose parents earned a degree absorbed by osmosis: the vocabulary of higher education and the shortcuts and secret handshakes that make it easier to navigate a complex institution. Getting into college isn’t the same as feeling like you belong there.

“There’s been a national endeavor to provide access to first-generation college students,” says Sedric McClure, assistant dean of multicultural life. “First, institutions began to recognize that high achieving students were admissible to highly selective institutions but didn’t have the resources to enter into the space. So, that became a focus. Then, we began to see the emergence, in significant numbers, of first-generation college students in these spaces. But what does that mean for creating a sense of belonging?”

Feature originally appeared in the Macalester College alumni magazine, Mac Today.

Staying on Track

When Jean Bell ’83 (née Jones) was in elementary school in the Bedford-Stuyvesant neighborhood of Brooklyn, her older brother started a girls’ track team and invited Bell, her sister, and their friends to join. Running gave her a sense of freedom, a feeling of speed—she was hooked.

Decades later, she’s still running—and a recent Netflix documentary is sharing her story with the world. The film, Sisters on Track, follows Brooke, Rainn, and Tai Sheppard, who are members of Jeuness Track Club, an all-girls team founded and coached by Bell. The teenage sisters gained national attention after participating in the 2016 Junior Olympics and being named Sports Illustrated’s SportsKids of the Year, leading to a dinner with LeBron James, Michael Phelps, Jay-Z, and Beyoncé, and appearances on The View.

This profile originally appeared in the fall 2021 issue of Brooklyn Law Notes.

Leading the Conversation

Shortly after moving to Philadelphia in 1997 and securing a position at Schnader Harrison Segal & Lewis, Debbie Epstein Henry ’94 started to question the direction of her career. She wondered: Was it possible to play an integral role in her children’s lives and be on a partnership track?

Henry decided to start a brown bag lunch group for other lawyers interested in work-life issues. She emailed three local lawyers she had recently met, as well as three litigators at her firm, and asked them to forward her message to anyone who might be interested.

“I was a fifth-year associate and a fairly recent New York transplant. I barely knew anybody,” she said. “Within a couple of days, 150 people emailed me back. I knew I had struck a nerve.”

This profile of Debbie Epstein Henry originally appeared in the fall 2021 issue of Brooklyn Law Notes.

Learning through Practice

As one of the first law schools in the country to launch a clinical education program, Brooklyn Law School paved the way for generations of law students to gain valuable experience before starting their careers. These clinical experiences also changed the career trajectory of some alumni, who went on to lead clinical education programs at other law schools.

Meet four alumni working in clinical education today who demonstrate the Law School’s influence not only on their careers, but on the field at large.

This feature appeared in the fall 2021 issue of Brooklyn Law Notes.

Celebrating Williams Firsts

When Azaria Vargas ’22, a softball player from Bellmore, N.Y., first arrived at Williams College, she naturally sought out friendships on her team. Those connections only deepened when she and several teammates realized they shared an aspect of their identities in common—that of being the first in their families to attend a four-year college.

Vargas says it was reassuring to learn that her teammates sometimes struggled with the stress of navigating college life like she did—trying to untangle the acronyms of offices and programs, or figuring out how to access resources. They relied on each other for advice and support. Vargas wanted more first-gen students to have access to the same kinds of networks that she and her teammates formed.

“First-gen identity is not visible and does not often emerge in conversations,” she says. “There was no distinct pathway to those interactions.”

Profile written for Williams College.

From (oyster) farm to table

There’s a day every year, as the long New England winter comes to a close, when Chris Sherman ’07 can sense a change in the air. The water warms, and algae production resumes, creating a briny aroma. An easterly breeze carries the scent across the bay and into downtown Duxbury, Mass., where Sherman serves as president of Island Creek Oysters. 

“You don’t get that with any other natural phenomena,” says Sherman. “We live in such close harmony and communion with the ocean.” 

This visceral connection to the ocean has been an undercurrent throughout Sherman’s life, inspiring an interest in sailing and a decision to pursue a concentration in maritime studies at Williams College. He participated in the Williams-Mystic program—a collaboration between the college and the Mystic Seaport Museum—where he studied coastal environments through a variety of lenses, such as art, literature, history, science and public policy. 

The call of the ocean also drew him to take a job as an oyster farmer for Island Creek Oysters two years after graduating from Williams.

Profile written for Williams College.

Yes, I've done that. Really.

Hitting a home run in the World Series? Making a Broadway debut? Arguing a case at the Supreme Court? Some experiences are hard to comprehend unless you’ve lived them. Sometimes, parallels offer a glimpse of what they’re like. Anyone who has drained a winning shot in their driveway imagines it like an NCAA championship buzzer beater.

Dreaming is one option. Another option: Go directly to the source. Ask someone who knows firsthand the thrill of young love at an older age or the panic of running for a bomb shelter.

Spiders are everywhere, and they have incredible experiences. Here are some who tell the tales of things many of us have imagined but few will ever do ourselves.

This feature appeared in the autumn 2021 issue of University of Richmond Magazine.

The stories within us

In a photo accompanying a Feb. 4, 1998, article in New England’s Valley News, Edwin M. Knights Jr. holds a palm-sized white plastic container. He prepares to insert a vial containing a sample of freeze-dried blood.

A retired pathologist, Knights had recently founded Life Science Inc. and its GeneSaver division with a business partner. For less than $100, consumers could order a blood sample kit, collect a few drops in a vial, and return it to Knights. He would then freeze-dry the sample in his basement lab and return the vial in an engraved keepsake box.

Knights believed everyone should preserve a sample for future genetic analysis. He argued that the sample could be used to determine the source of diseases, help genealogists conduct research, or — in the case of adoption or egg or sperm donation — allow a child to track down their biological parents and genetic history.

In the article, Knights acknowledged that he and his business partner were perhaps ahead of the curve. Direct-to-consumer DNA testing kits wouldn’t hit the marketplace for another two years. They faced an uphill battle convincing people of the value and safety of collecting and preserving their genetic code.

Among the people he did convince was his son, Edwin B. Knights, who provided a few drops of blood for his father’s burgeoning business. As the years passed and at-home DNA testing grew in popularity, more and more people’s genetic material eventually made its way into the growing databases where users could discover their traits and ethnicities and connect with long-lost family members.

That’s where Chris Smith, ’98, discovered the biological family he never knew he had — and an unexpected new connection to the University of Richmond.

This feature appeared in the summer 2021 issue of University of Richmond Magazine.

Freedom From Certainty

In today’s polarized world, arguments abound. From heated threads on social media, to a cacophony of talking heads on TV, to politicians who seemingly refuse to consider the other side, it can seem like everyone is more concerned with digging in their heels than digging into the underlying issues.

As a country, we’re having a hard time talking with each other—but at Macalester, faculty members are hoping they can equip their students to find another way.

The process doesn’t begin with tools and tricks for making a case, but rather an environment of trust—one where students learn to listen passionately and feel confident taking risks. From there, they develop a deep knowledge of their position and explore counterarguments, considering their positions from all angles and looking for fallibilities.

In genuine argumentation—a term defined by philosopher Henry Johnstone Jr.—no one is required to walk away with a changed mind, but both sides must be open to the possibility. We can’t demand that our opponents assume all the risks of being open to change, he argues, if we don’t ask the same of ourselves.

“Genuine argument is a deeply human and humane activity,” says political science professor Adrienne Christiansen. “It’s about figuring out what’s in the best interest of the community, and developing relationships with other people.”

Macalester seeks to create such a community. Whether it’s a class exploring the roots of political ideologies, a discussion about cultural norms with classmates from Sweden and Pakistan, or seeing the real-life implications of U.S. policy while working in the community, students are challenging their existing beliefs in an effort to more deeply understand their values, and their vision for the future.

Feature originally appeared in the Macalester College alumni magazine, Mac Today.

The making of a beautiful life

The video begins with a young couple making their way into a physical rehabilitation center. Cole Sydnor’s hands, clenched into fists, push the wheels of his wheelchair forward, while his girlfriend, Charisma Jamison, walks alongside him.  

Inside, she helps him onto a table. A team of trainers moves Cole, who is a quadriplegic, through a series of exercises and stretches before strapping him into a wearable robotic exoskeleton that wraps around his legs and torso.  

“I actually can’t feel my legs,” he jokes to his mother behind the camera.  

After a few minutes, Cole is on his feet while Charisma looks on, smiling.  

“You’re so tall,” she says before coming in for their first-ever standing hug.

Cole then places his arms into braces attached to a walker. Two trainers support him as he takes one step, and then another, and then another. Cole walks across the room, out the door, down the hall and outside. Charisma is there every step of the way.

I first wrote about Cole for the University of Richmond alumni magazine, and his story has always been one of my favorites. I was thrilled to revisit it, and talk to Cole and Charisma about their successful YouTube channel that captures their life as an interracial, interabled couple.

Wise words for turbulent times

The past year brought a global pandemic, an economic crisis, and a contentious election, and magnified the perpetual national issues of income inequality and systemic racism. We bear each toll in different ways, and we carry anxiety, sorrow, and fear at levels that few might have predicted as 2020 began. It’s no surprise that many of us are struggling to get through the next five minutes, much less grapple with what lies ahead.

Yet as a nation we’ve experienced difficult periods before—and just as we’ll learn from this era and apply it to the future, there are plenty of lessons to be had from hard times of the past. That’s why we asked several graduates from the 1950s, ’60s, and ’70s—alumni who’ve lived through wars, the civil rights movement, economic booms and busts, and so much more—to offer readers lessons from their own past experiences.

The alumni we spoke with have some advice: don’t be afraid, show up where you’re needed, get involved in your community, persevere. They all agree—you have to take action.

“As my mother used to say,” says Kris Amundson ’71, “‘you can’t wring your hands and roll up your sleeves at the same time.’”

Feature originally appeared in the Macalester College alumni magazine, Mac Today.

Improv instructor teaches students how to roll with the punches

In improv terms, the spring 2020 semester could be described as a short-form challenge. Think Whose Line Is It Anyway?, with a seasoned team reacting to constantly changing, rapid-fire exercises. Each game lasts only a few minutes before the team starts fresh with the next challenge.

This fall, though, is more of a long-form endeavor. It’s still unscripted, with plenty of unexpected surprises, but a narrative arc guides everyone to a shared destination.

To navigate either exercise, improv performers have to begin by building camaraderie with their teammates. As with most things, for now, that means getting to know one another over Zoom.

Profile of Elizabeth Byland for VCUarts.

USNA Myths: Did that really happen?

Stories have the power to connect us, surprise us and even inspire us. 

Consider the legends surrounding Philo McGiffin, Class of 1882, an alumnus renowned for his battlefield heroics and his campus antics. Yes, it’s fun to imagine him dumping flour out a window and onto the heads of officers down below, but there are also lessons to be learned from his mischievous streak. 

In fact, Claude Berube, director of the Naval Academy Museum, argues that some of the Academy’s most mischievous graduates are also among its most successful. 

“There’s a group who didn’t want to study very hard; they did the minimum so they could go off and enjoy other things,” he said. “But there was a value to that in battle, because they thought differently than somebody who was looking at more complex operations.” 

The Naval Academy is full of stories like these: tales of greatness and fabled achievements—and, for good measure, a few humbling mistakes. 

Still, we couldn’t help but wonder just how much truth lies in Naval Academy campus lore— so we did a little digging. 

What we found? Even the most legendary, outlandish myths have a kernel of truth. 

Feature originally appeared in the U.S. Naval Academy alumni magazine, Shipmate.