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.

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.

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.

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.

Barrier breakers

The ascension paths Rear Admiral Yvette M. Davids ’89, USN, and Rear Admiral Sara A. Joyner ’89, USN, followed to their wartime leadership positions were blocked when they graduated from the Naval Academy.

Women weren’t allowed in combat when Joyner and Davids were commissioned. Davids’ journey would see her needing special permission to be in a combat zone aboard BUNKER HILL in 1990 to commanding the vessel 20 years later. Joyner was the first female commanding officer of a fighter squadron.

It was groundbreakers like Joyner and Davids who paved the way for future generations to serve their country in combat. They followed in the trailblazing footsteps of alumni Lieutenant Commander Wesley A. Brown ’49, USN (Ret.), the Academy’s first Black graduate and the first class of female plebes who entered the Academy in 1976. Throughout its 175-year history, the Academy has commissioned leaders who forge new paths, break ground and smash through glass ceilings.

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

How to rise like a phoenix

There’s an old saying that success has many fathers, but failure is an orphan. When things are going well, everyone wants to claim their place in the victory lane. But when life takes a turn, few are willing to own responsibility; instead, most people try to place the blame somewhere else and put the situation behind them as quickly as possible.

While no one wants to stand in front of a crowd and cop to a mistake or slog through a project they know isn’t going to end well, such challenges often provide the greatest lessons, if we take the time to truly process and reflect. But this often means leaning into the full roller coaster of emotions — from fear, loss, and shame to soul-searching and renewed passion.

Here, a few W. P. Carey School of Business alumni — success stories every one — lay bare their lowest moments and the insights they now see in the rearview mirror.

Feature originally appeared in the W. P. Carey School of Business alumni magazine.

Seeing the Forest and the Trees

How to do groundbreaking research in eight (not so) easy steps, with Margaret Metz, assistant professor of biology at Lewis & Clark College.

Conducting field research in the Amazon rainforest sounds enticing on its surface. Perhaps you imagine spending your days immersed in the constant hum of insects as you trek through lush vegetation. Or maybe you visualize standing at the foot of a towering waterfall as exotic birds soar overhead.

The reality, however, looks a little different.

Cataloging cool courses

Skim through the latest Naval Academy course catalog, and a few courses are bound to leap off the pages. Midshipmen are being introduced to cutting-edge technology and preparing for literal sea changes in how we navigate the globe. New majors and courses are evolving in response to military priorities, and to teach midshipmen how to contend with new arenas of warfare. 

Future Navy and Marine Corps officers have long come to the Academy to hone their expertise in science, technology, engineering and math. In more recent years, critical languages such as Arabic and leadership-specific courses have gained prominence. But amidst the usual offerings lie a few unexpected surprises. Whether it’s a new spin on 400-year-old texts or the next generation of cyber sciences, these classes will make you want to hit the books again, no matter how long ago you graduated. Keep reading to see how Naval Academy professors are getting midshipmen out of their seats and into the field, challenging them to shake up their perspectives and preparing them for the future technical needs of the Navy and Marine Corps. 

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

arts + health

Imagine the last time you went to the doctor.

Maybe the environment—the smell of chemicals, the sounds of machines beeping—made you feel uncomfortable. Perhaps you had trouble describing your symptoms, as if no one could understand the sensations you knew to be true. Or, your physician interrupted you before you even had the chance.

Maybe you felt like the doctors and nurses saw you as an illness to be diagnosed, a problem to solve, rather than a person with passions, a cultural history, family and friends, life experiences—a human being with a story all your own.

This disconnect between patient and medical professionals is becoming a frequent point of conversation. In one recent study, published in the Journal of General Internal Medicine, researchers found that patients have 11 seconds to explain the reasons for their visit before physicians interrupt them.

But what if the arts could change the whole experience?

At VCUarts, faculty and students are leveraging the school’s position within a major research university—outfitted with a range of medical programs and a top-ranked hospital—to help people live happier and healthier lives.

Within VCUarts, 20 percent of faculty members actively engage in research collaborations, creative works, courses and programs related to health care. Research projects take creative approaches to managing pain, increasing empathy among health care professionals, and enhancing understanding of patient symptoms. Some projects benefit from the guidance of VCUarts’ inaugural physician-scientist in residence, Dr. John E. Nestler, as he deepens collaboration between the two campuses.

“Medicine and the arts deal with the same thing—the human condition,” Nestler says. “They seek to heal the body and heal the soul. The bringing together of art and medicine allows both artists and medical professionals to be better.”

Feature originally appeared in the VCUarts alumni magazine, Studio.

Medicine in motion

The problem started as many do, with a gap in the marketplace. To distribute medications to patients, hospitals typically choose between expensive robotic carts or basic plastic tubs on wheels that anyone could purchase at a home improvement store.

VCU Health hospitals use the latter, but the carts require workarounds to secure controlled substances and protect patients’ privacy. Two years ago, VCU’s hospital pharmacy staff saw an opportunity to improve the cart, but didn’t have the time to dedicate to research and development and, ultimately, design. They worked with a vendor who tried to adapt an existing product, but the end result failed when put to the test.

“Something like this really needs to be designed from the ground up,” said Shanaka Wijesinghe, Ph.D., assistant professor in the Department of Pharmacotherapy and Outcomes Sciences in the School of Pharmacy.

That’s why, when Wijesinghe walked into pharmacy operations manager Michelle Harrison’s office last summer, searching for a project to bring to VCU’s da Vinci Center, Harrison was all ears.

Wijesinghe has been involved with the da Vinci Center — a collaboration of VCU’s schools of the Arts and Business, and colleges of Engineering and Humanities and Sciences that advances student innovation — for years as a mentor, and had been looking for more opportunities to leverage the in-house creative resource to address challenges on the MCV Campus.

“In a sense, we are like Google,” Wijesinghe said. “For every challenge, we also have the ability to generate the solution. It’s just a matter of bridging the campuses and getting people talking to each other.”

Feature originally appeared on the Virginia Commonwealth University home page.

The New Rules of Food

What’s for dinner? Decades ago, it was an easier question to answer. But today, we’re confronted with seemingly endless choices: for the diet we follow, the food we buy, where we buy it, and how we cook it.

Each choice hints at deeper questions: We might be able to eat everything our hearts, minds, and stomachs desire, but should we? If we’re lucky enough to have endless choices, what is our responsibility to ensure others—in the neighboring community or across the globe—have the same? And how do we extend that access in a way that sustains and respects local food practices?

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

A night at the opera

When the curtain rises over the Sonia Vlahcevic Concert Hall at the start of “The Pirates of Penzance,” it’s easy to become absorbed in the story of Frederic as he celebrates his 21st birthday and the end of his apprenticeship to a band of pirates. You’re probably not thinking about how, just moments ago, the singers were backstage warming up their vocal cords while a violinist practiced that tricky phrase one last time.

As you watch Major-General Stanley’s wards dance across the stage, you don’t imagine that hours earlier Melanie Kohn Day, director and producer of Virginia Commonwealth University Opera, was surrounded by curling irons and wigs as the pirates flipped through stuffed costume racks, and the crew checked lights and ensured all the show’s props were in place.

You’re definitely not thinking about how these students didn’t just have to learn the music and movements to arrive at this performance, but also skills that transcend it, such as audition techniques, a variety of accents and how to file taxes as a professional opera singer. You might not realize that you are looking at the company with the longest-running tradition of full-scale opera productions in Virginia.

You’d be forgiven for these oversights because, after all, that’s the point. You’re here to enjoy a show. But the months-long preparation by this team of opera professionals and undergraduates balancing work and school and life? It’s worth taking note.

A photo essay capturing the semester-long process of putting together an opera. Originally appeared on the VCU home page.

The new rules of retail

For more than a century, the idea that the customer is always right has driven retailers who want to demonstrate a commitment to customer satisfaction above all else. The execution, however, has evolved with the times. Today, companies want to communicate with you on your terms. They want to recommend products that match your interests that you didn’t even know you wanted. They need to maintain an extensive inventory of colors and sizes, all ready to be shipped to your doorstep within two days and returned in-store at your convenience weeks later.

Many experts say these shifts in retail can be attributed to the rise of Amazon. When the e-commerce marketplace introduced free two-day shipping, flexible returns, and product recommendations, it upended consumer expectations. Suddenly, retailers had to dramatically rethink their business.

Now, augmented reality is entering the picture. Consumers can use their phones to visualize furniture in their homes or shop the outfits of passersby on the street. A focus on omnichannel engagement is also dominating, as consumers expect a seamless experience as they migrate from digital to physical and back again. They want to research products and compare costs online, enter a store to touch and feel and test, place an order through an app, and pay their bills via text message.

The end result is that retailers are no longer solely in competition with other brands in their category. Instead, every company is a technology company competing to launch the most innovative customer engagement tactics — or, at the very least, keep up.

“The moment you got your Starbucks app and realized you could order your drink from your phone, you didn’t just go, ‘This is incredible. Other coffee places should be like this,’” says Eddie Davila, who teaches supply chain management. “You thought, ‘Wait a second, every place should be like this.’ At that point, Starbucks made McDonald’s, Chipotle, and your doctor’s office look old and slow.”

These shifts are great for consumers — but what about future CEOs, data analysts, and marketing execs? How can today’s students stay nimble when the landscape could look entirely different by the time they graduate?

Feature originally appeared in the W. P. Carey School of Business alumni magazine.

Guerrilla Gardens

There’s a 10-foot-wide stretch of land cutting diagonally through North Side’s Bellevue neighborhood. It rests in the middle of Fauquier Avenue, separating lanes of traffic. Some might call it a median, but here? Residents might call it their front yard.

About 10 years ago, Erin Wright, who owns Little House Green Grocery, planted her first vegetable garden on Fauquier. Over the years, the grassy patch has been home to dinner-plate dahlias and a field of sunflowers. One year she grew so much lettuce she planted a “Pick Me” sign and donated the rest of her bounty to a food pantry. Even the herbs for sale in Little House come from the median, arriving on shelves with the tiniest of carbon footprints.

Further up Fauquier, others have added their spin on urban gardening, stocking the median with herbs and vegetables, towering bushes, and flowers tumbling out of wheelbarrow planters. The annual planting is a community event as neighbors coordinate their plans and chat with passersby while tending to their seedlings.

Throughout the city, neighbors have taken undeveloped patches of land — some in medians and intersections, others in alleyways and city parks — as their own. They’ve turned graffiti-covered concrete into playgrounds and dog runs. 

And in the process, they’ve created impromptu community centers.

Feature originally appeared in R-Home magazine.

Common lessons for the common good

This was my first assignment with The Frontier Project, a Richmond-based organization dedicated to changing workplace culture. I've been fascinated by their mission, and was excited to get an assignment that breaks my own mold. So often, I'm writing profiles or interviewing experts about complex subjects. This time, I got to do some of my own research into inspiring nonprofits for an activism themed issue of their publication, Dispatches.

Nonprofits aren't known for having endless money and resources. They have to do a lot with a little, and prove the value of every investment, big or small.

Some of the most powerful forces for good are masters at marrying shoestring budgets with grit, determination, and creativity--and any company can borrow from that playbook.

Here, we share a few lessons from nonprofits at the top of their game.

Keep your mission simple.

It's easy for mission statements to turn into lengthy lists that read like a thesaurus, obscuring inspiring and admirable goals in long-winded jargon.

In just one sentence, charity: water communicates their focus to bring clean and safe drinking water to people in developing countries. From there, any number of benefits can follow, like education, income, and health--but water frames them all.

That simplicity can breed creativity. When you have a mission that's open-ended, yet specific, you build a framework with space for innovative ideas. It becomes a rallying cry that helps everyone involved understand their role in the bigger picture.

Connect smart people.

Direct Relief spans the globe to bring medical supplies and healthcare providers to underserved communities. Only they're not necessarily the boots on the ground. Instead, they build a collaborative network of medical companies and professionals, and leverage those relationships to strengthen local health systems Take their partnership with Pfizer, which brought medicine to HIV-positive patients in more than 60 countries.

Shift your focus to bringing the right people to the table and enabling them to do what they do best.

See the problem; own the solution.

For nearly 25 years after the first successful organ donation in 1954, doctors had no way to connect a donor at one hospital with a patient at another. That is, until a group of people seized on budding technology to create a computerized matching database called United Network for Organ Sharing. When the federal government caught up in 1984 and called for a national network to allocate organs, guess who won the contract?

Today, an average of 92 organ transplants take place every day in the U.S.--and UNOS coordinates every one of them.

When you spot a challenge in your industry, don't be afraid to take the lead. You might just become the place that everyone else turns to for answers.

Never stop evolving.

For decades, The Stop was a basic Toronto food bank. Volunteers in cramped quarters distributed whatever food they could find to needy neighbors.

When Nick Saul took over, he saw the problems ran deeper and the solutions more complicated. He set out to rethink what a food bank should be. He started by bringing in higher quality, fresh foods. The Stop now has gardens and a greenhouse, kitchens and cooking lessons, farmers' markets and community action programs.

Saul left The Stop after 15 years--but for good reason. He now brings his social justice and community empowerment approach to a network of food banks throughout Canada.

Never stop looking for innovative ways to expand and evolve your core mission.