Goodblanket was nervous about checking out the CICSC. She didn’t know anyone on campus and was unsure about going inside. But she mustered the courage to open the door, and all of her anxiety disappeared as she was instantly welcomed.  

Little did she know that she was meeting mentors that day who would help her achieve the career she has today. Through intentional support from faculty and staff and inclusive spaces like the CICSC, CSUSM equips students to lead with identity, purpose and impact. 

“I was looking for that connection to my culture, and I found it on campus,” said Goodblanket, who received a bachelor’s degree in psychological science and a Master of Social Work at CSUSM. “I'm an out-of-state Native. My tribe is from Oklahoma, so I always am searching to reconnect with tribal communities and tribal culture.” 

Goodblanket, a member of the Cheyenne and Arapaho Tribes of Oklahoma, serves as an Indian Child Welfare Act (ICWA) court advocate for the Valley Center-based Indian Health Council, which provides health and wellness services for American Indian communities in north San Diego County. Any families involved in a child welfare case, such as a juvenile dependency proceeding, can rely on Goodblanket for support. 

"I work with moms and dads who are struggling with a variety of challenges," Goodblanket said. "One is substance abuse. My job is to support families in doing what they need to do to reunite with their kids if they’re not currently in a place to have them back. I also work with caregivers and family members who have taken placement of the children." 

Goodblanket’s cultural connection is at the heart of her advocacy. Under the ICWA, child welfare agencies must prioritize placing American Indian children with relatives or within their tribal communities whenever possible.  

“Natives are still removed at a disproportionate rate by child welfare services,” Goodblanket said. "When children are disconnected from their culture, their long-term outcomes aren't as strong as those who remain connected. That’s why the cultural component is such a vital part of the work I do." 

As a student, Goodblanket participated in CSUSM’s inaugural “Beyond the Stereotype" campaign to raise awareness about cultural appropriation and the harm caused by stereotypes. Goodblanket and other students were featured on posters across campus that challenged common misconceptions about underrepresented groups. She emphasized the need to raise awareness about issues like missing and murdered Indigenous women and the harmful sexualization of Native women through stereotypes and costumes, which contribute to broader societal perceptions and injustice. 

"Maya demonstrates how education driven by purpose and cultural knowledge creates lasting change,” said Joely Proudfit, chair of the American Indian studies department and director of the CICSC. “CSUSM remains grateful for her transformative impact, particularly through her leadership in the award-winning 'Beyond the Stereotype' campaign, where she challenged cultural appropriation with authenticity and understanding.” 

Goodblanket didn’t expect the campaign to have such a large impact, and its widespread presence across campus was surprising but meaningful.  

"I think it was really important to take that stance and just stand up,” she said. “And I think that's what college is all about.” 

Media Contact

Eric Breier, Interim Assistant Director of Editorial and External Affairs

ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

Diagnosed with hepatitis C, very unusual for a child that young, Jaenisch had been told by doctors that if he didn’t get a liver transplant, he wouldn’t live past 30. That disturbing prediction had hung over his adolescence and early adulthood like a black cloud, casting a pall over every doctor’s appointment and health episode.  

Now here it was, 2016, the year when Jaenisch turned 30, and the doctor’s assessment was feeling eerily prescient. He had not been able to procure a new liver, and his condition was deteriorating rapidly. To borrow his gallows humor, he was as “yellow as a Simpsons character” because of jaundice. He collectively spent more than six weeks in the hospital as a result of various complications from end-stage liver disease.  

“Every single day that year, I had a 30 to 60 percent chance of dying,” Jaenisch said.  

That he didn’t die, that he received a liver transplant on Dec. 3 (only a few months before his 31^st birthday), Jaenisch considers to be nothing short of a miracle. Given the gift of fresh life in his fourth decade, he elected to devote it to ensuring that no one else has to go through the ordeal that he did. 

Three years later, Jaenisch returned to Cal State San Marcos – the university where he had earned a bachelor’s degree in social sciences in 2008 – to pursue a master’s in public health. He now works as the director of education and outreach for Open Biopharma Research and Training Institute, a Carlsbad nonprofit whose mission is to reduce the cost of pharmaceuticals like the ones that helped keep him alive while he waited for the miracle liver.  

More significantly, Jaenisch is a tireless patient advocate, dedicating countless hours to multiple organizations that share a goal of ending the scourge of hep C. He has transformed adversity into community impact, leveraging his CSUSM education to improve lives and strengthen public health across the state.  

“Richard is truly a special person,” said Carrie Frenette, the executive director of global medical affairs for Gilead Sciences and Jaenisch’s liver doctor for nine years starting in 2012.  

“I can’t think of anyone else who has so much expertise and understanding in their medical problems, advocates for themselves and then goes on to advocate for others. Honestly, it made it so easy to care for him, and it made it mean even more when he got his transplant and was healthy again.” 

'I don’t know how you are still alive...’ 

It all started with brown pee. 

Jaenisch was a normal suburban kid growing up in Rancho Bernardo. When he was 12, his parents signed him up for a summer tennis camp. It was a sweltering day and he didn’t drink a lot of water; when he returned home and went to the bathroom, his urine was dark.  

His father took him to Rady Children’s Hospital, where he was put through a battery of tests on his kidneys, spleen and liver. The diagnosis of hepatitis C virus (HCV) stunned them, as did the subsequent wallop of bad news: After the rest of the family was tested, it was discovered that he contracted the infection at birth from his mother, who also was found to have HCV.   

Nothing, though, could have prepared Jaenisch for the haunting prognostication of liver transplant or death.  

“That shook me to my core,” he said. “My childhood was fundamentally changed. And my mom heard that, too, because she was in the room. It’s awkward hearing your own future from your child’s diagnosis. We shared a very odd relationship in that way.” 

At the time, in the late 1990s, there was no cure for HCV, only experimental treatments with low success rates and punishing side effects. Jaenisch’s mom started the drugs – interferon and ribavirin – almost immediately, but as a child, Jaenisch wasn’t eligible. The primary impact of HCV on his teenage years was that he was forced to cease participation in all sports and PE classes (because the disease can be transmitted through blood) and he began to suffer from a type of brain fog named hepatic encephalopathy (HE).   

After graduating from Rancho Bernardo High School, he attended Palomar College for two years, then transferred to CSUSM. There, he threw himself into classes in economics, history and political science – not only to satiate his hunger for knowledge but also to distract himself from the fear that constantly lingered at the back of his mind.  

“I wanted to live as much of my life as I could before everything hit the fan,” Jaenisch said. “Because I knew what was coming. When someone gives you a death sentence, you remember it, to say the least.” 

Jaenisch graduated from CSUSM in December 2008. Only a few weeks later, the trouble started. He attempted to begin the same treatment program his mom had undergone, but because of denials by his mom's employer, he wasn’t able to do so for about nine months.  

Once the snags finally had been resolved, the 12-week regimen of interferon and ribavirin didn’t work. He experienced all the negative effects of the drugs – in his case, painful inflammation and wild emotional swings – without any decrease in his body’s viral load. A second round at double the dosage early in 2010 similarly yielded no response.  

By this point, more than a decade after his HCV first had been discovered, Jaenisch had descended to the most serious stage on the scale that measures liver fibrosis, or scarring. F0 equates to no fibrosis, F1 is mild, F2 is moderate, and so on. He was at F4, which indicates the presence of cirrhosis, a condition in which the liver is extensively scarred and permanently damaged.   

Jaenisch had reached the dreaded end-stage liver disease, which essentially meant that the ticking of his clock was only accelerating. All the while, he was encountering roadblocks in his career. He had hoped to enter the niche field of traffic economics, but graduating into the Great Recession scuttled that plan. For a time, he held a job in tech support that he found unfulfilling. 

The work that did bring Jaenisch joy was for a group that offered before- and after-school services for elementary and middle schools in the Poway district of his youth. He envisioned a long-term future in that field but was stymied by both the ailing economy (which led to layoffs) and his illness (he claims he was a victim of disability discrimination but chose to spend his remaining time trying to get better rather than pursue a case.)   

While he tried to piece together enough work to retain his vital health insurance, Jaenisch’s health continued to deteriorate. In 2014, two years into her stint as his liver doctor, Frenette proffered a grim evaluation. 

“She said, ‘I don’t know how you are still alive with this liver,’ ” Jaenisch recalled. “She showed me pictures and was like, ‘Your liver is an old shoe. It is not doing what it’s supposed to do. But you’re still functioning.’ ” 

Every moment of optimism, it seemed, was followed by a stroke of misfortune. He began taking a new drug called Sovaldi (a direct-acting antiviral, or DAA) that was considered a game-changer for HCV patients in that it had an 86% cure rate in six months. Sure enough, Jaenisch’s viral load was approaching zero and his liver was curing. But then he contracted a C. diff bacterial infection (the suspect: spoiled food from a restaurant), which caused acute liver failure and brought his HVC roaring back.  

He later tried another second-generation DAA – Harvoni – that sounded promising but failed in the last week of treatment. As his liver continued to deteriorate, in 2016 he became too sick for treatment and, following a now-common hospitalization, an ER physician gave him outdated medical advice, which resulted in a case of sepsis that nearly killed him. 

End-stage liver disease is typically a rapid descent lasting as little as two years. For Jaenisch, it was an eight-year slog, from age 22 to 30.  

“He was in and out of the hospital multiple times, and he nearly didn’t make it to transplant multiple times,” Frenette said. “I can’t imagine anyone going through it with the courage and strength that he did.” 

Even after the liver transplant, Jaenisch wasn’t out of the woods. The operation addressed the issue of the failing liver, but it didn’t eradicate the HCV (the virus lives in the bloodstream). Frenette advised a treatment plan of Sovaldi, Zepatier and ribavirin, and that pharmaceutical concoction proved to be a magical formula.  

In September 2017, 18 years after the fateful diagnosis, Jaenisch was cured. 

“Honestly, I cried,” Frenette said. “He had been through so much, and to finally get rid of this awful virus that he had lived with his entire life and had caused his liver to fail … I don’t have words.” 

‘I have to be more than a self-advocate' 

It was during one of his dozens of hospital stays that Jaenisch decided on the next course of his life, provided he would live long enough to choose.  

In the fall of 2014, he had been admitted to Sharp Memorial Hospital after the HCV returned via his C. diff infection. His medical team was struggling to lower his levels of bilirubin, a substance found in bile that was causing jaundice, the yellowing of the skin now so familiar to Jaenisch. He knew that ultraviolet rays help break down bilirubin, so he convinced the nurses to bring him outside for an hour a day at peak sun. As he had theorized, his bilirubin numbers declined. 

“It was at that point where I was like, ‘I have to be more than a self-advocate. If I can survive through transplant, I need to go to a Master of Public Health program,’ ” Jaenisch said. “I realized that that path would help me better understand how to become an advocate not only for myself but also for others.” 

His commitment would be nurtured in an environment like CSUSM, as he was accepted into its accelerated MPH program. His time back at the university overlapped with the pandemic, which he took advantage of by choosing as his thesis topic the emergency use authorization of COVID-19 tests.  

“He was very inquisitive and passionate,” said Asherlev Santos, an associate professor of public health and Jaenisch’s thesis adviser. “Sometimes that passion was more visible than the evidence of the inquiry, but all came from a place of helping others in some sort of need. He used his personal and professional experience to spur on what he did for his MPH degree.” 

His master’s allowed him to land his job at Open Biopharma, but it’s passion that mostly fuels Jaenisch in his advocacy connected to HCV. In 2016, while his body was still racked with the disease, he traveled to Sacramento with an organization known as CalHEP to talk to state legislators and raise awareness about viral hepatitis.  

The next year, when Congress was preparing to vote on a bill to repeal the Affordable Care Act, Jaenisch enlisted in the fight. He told his story of overcoming HCV in half a dozen TV interviews, worked at a call center, wrote letters – he did so much that the American Liver Foundation named him its liver champion of the year.  

“I wanted to preserve the things that help people get access to health care,” he said. “Because to me, it saved my life.” 

He also has volunteered for state and local groups such as End the Epidemics, the California Department of Public Health and the Eliminate Hepatitis C San Diego County Initiative. Their shared objective (in line with a goal established by the World Health Organization) is to eliminate hep C by 2030, which means a reduction of new infections by 90% and deaths by 65%. 

And the barriers are much lower than they used to be. Jaenisch says his family spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on treatment and other expenses to keep him alive. Today, treatment could run as cheap as a few hundred dollars, and that’s for more effective drugs, too.  

“I was raised in a middle-class suburban household, and I wouldn’t have known I had hep C if I didn’t pee a brown color,” Jaenisch said. “I’ve always maintained that I think we’re missing a lot of people, and I keep trying to push for us to find them and knock this virus out. We’re taking a lot of steps, and eventually we’ll get there.” 

Thanks to Jaenisch’s focus on access and innovation, those steps are becoming strides – toward a healthier, more equitable future for all. 

Media Contact

Brian Hiro, Communications Specialist

bhiro@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7306

“It’s almost like you could take a Fully Employed MBA class schedule and go, ‘OK, yep, you’ve tapped finance, you’ve tapped accounting, marketing, leadership,’ ” Lutz said. “Somehow, I have to wear one of those hats at any given point in my job.” 

Founded in the wake of a tragic act of domestic violence, Kathy’s Legacy Foundation honors the memory of Kathy Scharbarth, who was murdered by her ex-boyfriend in 2011. The nonprofit supports children and pets impacted by domestic violence – offering comfort, stability and hope through its two signature programs. 

Lutz, who joined the organization in 2019 after earning an MBA from Cal State San Marcos, thrives on the variety and challenges of nonprofit work. Her time at CSUSM helped her develop a deeper understanding of her strengths and areas for growth, while also fostering connections that continue to support her in her role today.  

“CSUSM helped me focus on what I felt like my strong suits were and what I liked and didn't like,” Lutz said. “The personal connections I made at CSUSM have become invaluable professional resources.”  

Years after graduating, Lutz came full circle when she collaborated with CSUSM business students on their Senior Experience project for Kathy’s Legacy. Although the project was ultimately cut short due to the pandemic, Lutz felt a strong connection to the students because she had completed similar projects while earning her MBA. 

“The project was marketing-focused, and we were working to try to reach donors who resonate with our mission, " Lutz said. “I was bummed that we didn't get to finish in person together, but I loved getting to work with them as someone who has gone through the same experience. It was great, and we got some amazing materials in return.” 

Lutz first connected with Kathy’s Legacy when a friend asked if she’d be interested in consulting on an event for the organization. She was immediately drawn to the mission and soon after was hired full time as a program manager. In the ensuing years, she steadily took on more responsibility, stepping into the role of co-executive director in 2024.  

“I feel like jumping in wholeheartedly and putting everything I had into Kathy’s Legacy led me to where I am today," Lutz said.  

The foundation’s work centers on two initiatives: the Silver Lining program, which helps children heal from the trauma of losing a parent to domestic violence, and the Lady’s Legacy program, which was inspired by Scharbarth’s yellow labrador, Lady, who was present when Scharbarth was killed. Lady became a symbol of the often-overlooked impact of domestic violence on pets.  

Lutz now helps coordinate multiple fundraising events throughout the year, including the annual Kathy’s Legacy Golf Tournament held at Twin Oaks Golf Course in San Marcos.  

The work isn’t easy, but Lutz says the impact is clear at the quarterly events Kathy’s Legacy hosts. There she sees firsthand how the organization is changing the lives of the children they support.  

“We had one boy who was not doing well during COVID and even long after the pandemic would wear a mask and have his hood up,” Lutz said. “But in the past year, the hood has come off and he’s smiling and engaging, which means something we’re doing is working.  

“I love that we can be that beacon of light and that reliability that these kids don't have anywhere else.”  

Media Contact

Eric Breier, Interim Assistant Director of Editorial and External Affairs

ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

The full memory is hazy, but I found myself sitting outside of Crash’s Market in the University Student Union with a handful of salt packets and on a Facetime call with my parents, who live in Tennessee. 

This experience didn’t come out of nowhere. I have postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, or POTS, a chronic condition that I’ve lived with since my junior year of high school.  

There’s not a lot known about POTS, but it's a disorder affecting the autonomic nervous system. When I switch positions (postural) – especially when I go from sitting to standing upright (orthostatic) – my heart rate rapidly increases. On average, it's over 100 beats per minute (tachycardia). 

POTS leaves me with a slew of symptoms. Daily, I experience dizziness, nausea, fatigue and brain fog, among others. Some people who have POTS faint frequently, even daily. I'm lucky enough that this doesn't typically happen to me, but I do experience presyncope, which means I go through all the symptoms of passing out while still fully conscious. When it occurs, I'm not able to see, speak or hear anything. I’m so dizzy I can’t walk straight. I get heat flashes. I remember only bits and pieces of what happens during these moments.  

The severity of my symptoms can vary, leading to an episode like the one I suffered in May 2024. If I have been walking or standing for too long, sitting for too long, am stressed out or if it’s hot outside, there’s a higher chance of an occurrence.  

That day in May, while I was on the phone and sitting outside of Crash’s Market, my parents called the paramedics. Determining that I couldn’t walk anywhere on my own and wouldn’t be able to for several hours, they took me by ambulance to the emergency room at a nearby hospital. 

Though it was my first time in an ambulance, I had made frequent visits to the ER over the previous four years. The process this time was the same as it had been for prior trips: They measured my vital signs, checked my heart with an electrocardiogram and did blood work to confirm POTS as the reason for the incident. Then I received an IV.  

IVs have been incredibly helpful. People with POTS struggle with low blood volume and tend to get fewer nutrients from the food we eat. An IV provides quick hydration and extra electrolytes. 

I also constantly consume extra salt, which helps improve blood volume. I add salt to my food, but in extreme cases, I will just eat plain salt packets.  

At restaurants, I always take an extra handful of salt packets from the condiment stand. These live in my purse or backpack, and I keep them handy in case I feel an episode coming. Some of my friends even carry salt packets when they’re hanging out with me.  

Despite the challenges, I try to focus on the positives. This journey has taught me to advocate for myself and surround myself with people who care about me, which is easy to do at Cal State San Marcos. 

Self-advocacy became a necessity as I went through many months of doctors’ appointments during high school trying to figure out what was wrong. Several doctors said everything I was going through was normal. But I knew it wasn’t.  

I wasn’t officially diagnosed with POTS until two years after my first symptoms. I had COVID twice during that time, and doctors believe that may have exposed an underlying condition. 

POTS is a chronic illness, meaning there is no cure. I’m a regular at the doctor’s office, with multiple appointments every month. Attending events causes heightened anxiety – both for me and the friends I’m with – and I do my best to be prepared in case of an episode. 

I had to take another ambulance ride in March. A friend and I were at a Kelsea Ballerini concert in San Diego. Though I had been fine the whole day, I started feeling nauseous and dizzy during the first opening act. I couldn’t stand. By the time Kelsea took the stage, the combination of the heat, crowd and strobe lights proved too much. My friend had to help hold me up as she guided me down the stairs to find the medics.  

Situations like this are frustrating. I don’t want to be a burden to friends and family, and I don’t want friends constantly worrying or family having to pick up slack.  

I’ve made some lifestyle changes in an attempt to lessen my symptoms. I take daily medication to ensure that my body keeps the right balance of salt and water. I drink tons of water with extra electrolytes and salt added. I try to walk every day to get my body more adjusted to moving. On hot days, I carry a mobile fan. And I also make sure to eat well. 

When I decided to attend CSUSM, the Disability Support Services office proved invaluable – they set me up with first-floor housing so I could avoid stairs (and anyone who has spent time on campus knows it’s no easy task to avoid stairs at CSUSM!).  

I also have learned to be more open about my condition. Through my on-campus job as a writing intern in the University Communications office, I’ve made great friends and found people who understand and support me. The experience has been an important part of pursuing my goal of becoming a writer. 

While CSUSM has helped me grow, my family and I made the difficult decision for me to move back to Tennessee at the end of the spring semester to focus on my health. I’ve had my share of challenges, but I also know how difficult it has been for my family to get calls in the middle of the night to learn I’ve been taken by ambulance to the ER when they’re 2,000 miles away. 

Though I’m heading east to finish college, I’ll always be thankful for my time at CSUSM – for the friends I’ve made, the support I’ve received and the confidence I’ve gained in sharing my story. 

Media Contact

Eric Breier, Interim Assistant Director of Editorial and External Affairs

ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

As a boy, his career aspiration was to be on a SWAT team. As a student at Cal State San Marcos, though his academic track early on was kinesiology, he gravitated to the theater and began auditioning for every high-pressure stage role possible. 

So when Collier was at a crossroads in his post-graduate life and his stepfather figure suggested that he explore firefighting, perhaps the most surprising aspect is that Collier had never thought of it himself. Who, after all, is more willing to charge headlong into a risky situation than a firefighter? 

“I’m the person who will stop their car on the side of a busy road to help somebody rather than driving on,” Collier said. “That’s just what I do. It’s what’s in me. So for me, this job is a hand-in-glove fit.” 

Collier was speaking from a common area inside San Diego Fire Station 43, which is in Otay Mesa and has been his home away from home for the past year. On this day in late April, he had donned his gear several times to go on calls in the station’s primary engine with his firehouse colleagues – a firefighter paramedic, an engineer and a captain.  

The calls were fairly routine. Because Station 43 is in a lightly developed neighborhood only a few miles north of the Mexico border, most of the emergencies that its crews respond to are vegetation fires, car fires and incidents at the border itself – often people sustaining injuries as they try to cross into California illegally.  

Collier, 29, is less than four years into his firefighting career, which translates into this current assignment far from the heart of San Diego. He has to gradually work his way up the ranks and into more plum stations.  

But Collier still loves where he is and what he’s doing. He gladly will show off for visitors every nook and cranny of Station 43 – from the exercise space where he gets to incorporate one of his favorite activities (weightlifting) into his work hours, to the kitchen where he frequently cooks meals for the whole house, to the cherry-red fire engine that he has come to know every inch of like the back of his hand.   

“Becoming a firefighter is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made,” he said. “It’s not an easy job. When the stuff hits the fan, it sprays everywhere. But it’s also one of the most rewarding things you can do.” 

It was at CSUSM that Collier discovered the stability and self-confidence that made life as a firefighter seem realistic. He grew up in the foster system and entered the university having attended an astounding 17 different schools before he even reached high school, Olympian in Chula Vista. He arrived at CSUSM with the assistance of ACE Scholars Services, the university’s program for former foster youth. 

Collier switched his major from kinesiology to visual performing arts and threw himself into theater with abandon, ultimately starring in seven shows during his five years as a student.  

“What CSUSM gave me is the belief that I can do anything,” said Collier, who graduated in 2018. “I came into college with extreme educational deficiencies. Yet CSUSM had every tool to catch me up and help me succeed. It gave me the environment to grow.” 

Collier intended to pursue a Master of Fine Arts and a doctorate en route to becoming a theater professor, but he admits that he didn’t prepare well enough for his graduate school auditions and was delivered a harsh “reality check.” He was teaching kids at Callan Swim School when his stepdad proposed what turned out to be a fateful visit to the Heartland Fire & Rescue station in El Cajon. He was a reserve firefighter there for a year before entering the San Diego Fire Academy in 2022. 

Now Collier aims to keep climbing the ladder – both literally and figuratively – as a firefighter while not pulling it up behind him. As soon as he joined the fire service, he got involved with community outreach as part of the team tasked with recruiting the next generation of firefighters. And his next goal is to take classes toward becoming an instructor of young firefighters eager to enter the fire service.  

“I feel like that’s my next calling,” he said. “I’m trying to figure out how to give back by motivating and helping others. It gives me joy to see people be uplifted and accomplish things.”  

Media Contact

Brian Hiro, Communications Specialist

bhiro@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7306

Her degree (communication) was unrelated to health care, and Gonzalez had no intention of staying in the field. The main appeal of the job was that it was close to her home and the university.  

Beginning her journey as a program assistant in an entry-level role, Gonzalez quickly developed a fondness for the local nonprofit and its high-minded mission: providing quality health care and wellness services to underserved communities, regardless of income or insurance status. Her early connection to community health mirrored CSUSM’s commitment to accelerating social mobility through leaders who serve with purpose. 

What Gonzalez imagined to be a brief pit stop instead turned into a rewarding career, and over two decades, she climbed the rungs all the way to the top – she was appointed president and CEO in 2020, the same year that North County Health Services was reborn as TrueCare.  

With Gonzalez at the helm, TrueCare has expanded into a regional force with 21 health centers and five women, infants and children (WIC) locations, covering a footprint of more than 42 miles, from Encinitas to Ramona. Her leadership has driven key advancements, including the opening of new health centers, expansion of the mobile fleet and specialty services, implementation of an advanced electronic health record system, rebrand of the organization, and launch of a successful doula program supported by a $2 million federal grant.  

Question: This year marks the five-year anniversary of you becoming the leader of TrueCare. What does that milestone mean to you? 

Michelle Gonzalez: I think it's a reminder of how quickly time flies and how quickly things can change and evolve. It's hard to remember that we were in this worldwide pandemic. It feels like it's been a couple lifetimes. We've had a lot of growth for the organization, and I think at this five-year mark, it just underscores how resilient we are, how much people matter at the core of everything we do – whether it's providers, whether it's patients, whether it's the community, our staff. It's a culmination of the strength of the organization and everything that we've accomplished, which is a lot in the last five years. 

Q: How would you sum up the growth and changes that have occurred since 2020? 

MG: We've expanded our footprint. We've opened new sites, we've added new service lines, we've added acupuncture, we've added podiatry. We've really stabilized our workforce during a time of a lot of shortages and uncertainty. I’m proud of the fact that our provider retention rate is over 90%. We continue to hire at an accelerated pace, and I start there because everything we do, all the growth and all the accomplishments, it always starts with people. Without a solid workforce, we wouldn't be able to achieve anything.  

Our patient population has grown significantly as well. We had a slight decrease post-COVID, but we're back up to almost 70,000 patients. We've rendered more than 350,000 visits in this last year. Our workforce continues to grow. We're over 800 employees now and close to 160 providers. And then our budget has grown significantly, by almost $55 million in the last five years. We've tripled our mobile fleet. In all the areas of the business that you would expect to continue to progress, we're not only progressing, but we're thriving. 

Q: How did your appointment as CEO come about? 

MG: My predecessor went on a leave of absence in January 2020. The board asked me if I would be willing to step in on an interim basis. They were initially planning to do a national search, which I was fully supportive of. I didn't have any aspirations to be a CEO. I sometimes say I'm an accidental CEO. I was working in that interim capacity for several months, and then COVID made its presence known and we had the stay-at-home order. By April, the board had unanimously appointed me to maintain the position full term. After a lot of conversation and some prayer and reflection, I decided to pursue the position, and it's been a fantastic journey, in large part because I have such a great team around me.  

Q: What was the biggest challenge in taking over just as the pandemic was heating up? 

MG: There was so much uncertainty and fear. At one point, we had to close more than half of our clinics, probably 75-80% of our sites, we had to furlough staff. You think you can sort of ease in to becoming a CEO. There was no ease-in period. I remember talking with colleagues in the industry and saying, “How are you handling this? What are you doing?” And I realized very quickly that there's no playbook and everybody was truly figuring it out as they went along. Very early on, I made a conscious decision that I would be the type of leader who was always grounded and surrounded by strong advisers. We offer health care, but I'm not a clinician, so I made certain that we had strong clinical leadership on our team. It was about trying to understand what was unfolding in the world around us and how TrueCare plays an important part and ensuring that we were keeping our workforce intact. We’re back on track now, but it was an incredibly stressful time.  

Q: How did TrueCare pivot during that time and how does the organization look different now than it did in 2020?  

MG: Before the pandemic started, we had pieces of a telehealth or virtual health program. We realized very quickly that it would be crucial to continue to offer services to patients. For many patients, we are their lifeline, and cutting off their health care was not an option. So we were able to stand up a virtual health program in three days. It started off with telehealth visits and as soon as we were able to, we migrated to a video visit platform. We essentially worked around the clock to make sure that we didn't cut off access for patients, but it also gave employees a sense of purpose. And we've continued to build on that virtual health program while staying true to the traditional methods that you would expect to render medicine.  

We also had to pivot when it came to figuring out what our workforce was going to look like. We had to put people on furlough, but we made sure they still got a salary. We really believed that we needed to take care of our people, and a lot of funding from the federal government helped to shore us up. We laid off less than 15 individuals, and we were able to provide them with a severance so that they landed on their feet. I’m proud of that.  

Q: How would you characterize the change in you that turned TrueCare from a short-term job to more of a calling? 

MG: What I found was that people who worked here were very connected to the mission. They weren't here for the money. They were here because they cared about the people and patients that we were serving. The more I learned about the organization, the more in love I became with it and the more I realized, “My gosh, we have to make sure more individuals in the community and more community-based organizations know about what we do because there are so many people in need.”  

There was a misconception about people who were accessing care at community health centers, that they deserved less or they were just poor. I discovered that these are individuals who work very hard and who don't understand the importance of preventative care, and a lot of times don't feel like they're worthy of having access to care. What became a cornerstone of the work I did early on, and has carried on throughout my time here, is making sure everybody understands that access to health care is a right, not a privilege, and we don't care about your walk of life, where you come from or your circumstance. We want to make sure we help everyone who walks through our doors to the very best of our ability.  

Q: Tell me about your background. 

MG: I was born in Virginia, which is where my father is from. My mother is from Guam, and my parents met there while my dad was in the military. I'm half-Chamorro and half-white, and my husband is Mexican. We were childhood sweethearts who met when I was 12 and he was 14. I've had a lot of exposure to his family and culture over the years, and I think that's something that has benefited me very well. Though I'm not Mexican, I'm not Latina, I have such an appreciation for the culture and the people who we serve, which is the predominant background of our patients. 

My family traveled a lot while my dad was in the service. We moved to Vista when I was in third grade, and I've lived in North County pretty much my whole life. I'm also the youngest of seven children and the first in my family to go to college. So I'm a first-generation college graduate.  

Q: Did your parents not encourage college among your siblings? 

MG: We came from very humble beginnings, and I don't think we always understood that college was something within reach. My parents did the best they could to work and provide for us, but it was really the mindset of, you go to school and you get a good job. But my mom would say to me, “You're too smart, Michelle. You need to think about college.” I told her we couldn’t afford college, but she said we'll figure it out, we'll find a way. For most of the time that I was a student, I worked two jobs to put myself through school. I was also an AmeriCorps member, so I was able to receive a grant. But none of it came easy and none of it was without sacrifice or hard work – not just for me, but those around me who supported me. 

Q: What I'm hearing is a story of social mobility.  

MG: Oh, one thousand percent. I think that's why Cal State San Marcos and TrueCare are such great partners. We see health care as a right, not a privilege, and we think it's fundamental and foundational to everything. I think it ties in beautifully with social mobility. And there's so much good that is happening at Cal State San Marcos. There's a lot that we do together, and social mobility is a big part of that.  

Q: One of the main areas in which TrueCare and CSUSM have partnered in recent years is mobile health clinics. How did that come about? 

MG: Once I became CEO and started serving on the University Council, I learned about CSUSM’s interest in having a mobile health unit. I connected with (nursing lecturer) Matt Mincey early on and said, “You don't have to go on this journey alone. We have mobile clinics. We're right here, let's partner, let's figure out how to do this together.” What started out small has expanded into working not just with the mobile team, but also with the School of Nursing, public health, the entire College of Education, Health and Human Services. It’s a great opportunity to give exposure to students and help them understand that health care doesn't just come in a traditional hospital setting, that there's this whole other life of community health. There's a ton of overlap where our interests align nicely with what CSUSM is doing. We go to the same community events, and CSUSM students are able to do outreach, blood pressure screenings, things of that nature. Then, as they move farther along in their studies, when appropriate, they're also able to do internships at TrueCare. 

Q: How would you summarize TrueCare’s model in terms of providing health care?  

MG: One of the things I want to emphasize is that TrueCare will not refuse services to anyone regardless of their ability to pay. What we're focused on is the individual and the family who presents and what services you need, and how we can either provide those directly or connect you with somebody who offers them. At TrueCare, we provide high-quality, compassionate care. Like we always say, “Health inside, welcome in!” 

Q: That seems like such a valuable service in the community – health care you don't have to pay for. 

MG: In today's day and age, it sounds like something very novel. Does that really exist? And the reality is that it does. When you believe in your core that health care is a right and not a privilege, you fight to make that a reality. And that's what we're doing. We're growing in all possible ways and we're maximizing wherever we can, in terms of the revenue we're able to generate. We take that and we pour it right back into the organization so that we can continue to expand our footprint. We put a lot of emphasis on making sure we can get people enrolled in coverage because we know that if you have coverage, that's a reduced barrier and you're more likely to access health care. But that's not the only barrier you will have to face and figure out. We also spend a lot of time and resources and energy in cultivating a fantastic culture internally. We believe that people who are joyful at work are more likely to do a better job and will pour that energy back into our patients and community. We make it a priority to care for our workforce, to really give them opportunities to advance, to grow and level up. What we find more and more often is that our patients are a direct reflection of our staff, and our staff is a direct reflection of our patients. Pouring into one is pouring into the other, and we're proud of that because health care is daunting – not just for the patient in terms of navigating, but it's also really hard work. One of our VPs many years ago said, “Michelle, we do noble work.” And I was like, “Yeah, this is noble work.” That's exactly what we do.  

Media Contact

Brian Hiro, Communications Specialist

bhiro@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7306

Perry wasn’t worried about pay or even the tasks he would be doing. He simply wanted an opportunity to gain some hands-on experience. 

It wasn’t an easy sell, even if CSUSM is known for high-impact, experiential learning. Perry wasn’t a physics major (he was studying mathematics at the time), and he didn’t have any lab experience. 

Perry wasn’t having much luck when he knocked on the door of physics professor Stephen Tsui. 

“He just said, ‘Sure, why not?’ ” Perry said. 

The simple gesture was the catalyst for Perry’s switch to physics and the beginning of his journey to co-founding TP Engineering Services, a Poway-based company that builds laser and electro-optic systems for defense and fusion applications.  

The company has flourished since its founding in 2017, but a fusion contract that it secured three years ago has accelerated its growth. 

“It’s pretty insane to think about us getting to this point already,” Perry said. “Did I ever think we'd get here? Yeah, but I had no idea what it was going to look like, and I had no idea how it was going to happen.” 

The experience is similar to the one Perry had at CSUSM, where he practically lived in Science Hall 2 as a student. In fact, he was there so early and so late that the physics department eventually entrusted him with keys and after-hours access to conduct his work. 

“That was my thing – just being in a lab setting, being around hardware, being around something that was tangible, something that wasn't just theoretical,” he said. “It was where I could put my hands on hardware and get some experience.” 

After graduating in 2016, Perry headed north to UC Santa Cruz, where he earned a master’s in phototonics. His master’s thesis – on the design and development of a deep ultraviolet fiber laser system – caught the eye of a defense contractor who funded the project, leading to the formation of TP Engineering with his mother and father. 

TP Engineering quickly grew from an optics table in Perry’s bedroom where they navigated every project to the Poway lab it calls home today. The company has expanded from the initial trio of co-founders to over 20 employees, including two from CSUSM. 

The university still holds a special place in Perry’s heart. It’s where he met his wife, Amanda, who earned a bachelor’s in kinesiology. More than a decade after they met while both lived on campus in the University Village Apartments, they welcomed daughter Elli, who will be 3 years old in December. And he still returns to campus every year for Super STEM Saturday, an annual one-day science festival that brings thousands of community members to campus. 

A longtime supporter of CSUSM Giving Day, Perry increased his contribution last year with a matching gift for the physics department. 

“He's an alum who really believes in giving back,” Tsui said. “It's nice that so many of our graduates remember us so fondly and want to see younger alums and students do well.” 

That’s certainly the case for Perry. He doesn’t take for granted the impact that people like Tsui had on him and his career. 

“CSUSM took a chance on me a long time ago, and I want to support them being able to give other students a chance as well,” Perry said. “My professors gave me a unique perspective on life. If Dr. Tsui hadn't given me that opportunity to work in his lab, I don't know if any of this would have happened. They gave me a chance, and that changed me forever.” 

Media Contact

Eric Breier, Interim Assistant Director of Editorial and External Affairs

ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

That's when his mom, Ivonne Mancilla, knew this was something more.  

It was the summer of 2023. Wright – who had just completed his second year at Cal State San Marcos, where he plays for the men’s soccer team – was experiencing pain like he had never felt before. 

“He has a high pain tolerance,” Mancilla said. “I started noticing how much he was sleeping and how he was walking very fragile. I realized it wasn’t a normal headache.” 

On the third day of the headache, Mancilla took Wright to urgent care. Doctors treated it as a migraine, giving him some medication and sending him home. But the pain continued to be unbearable. Wright told his mom that he felt like he was dying.  

On day four, Wright went to the emergency room. It saved his life.  

Wright spent the next 40 days in the hospital, undergoing three brain surgeries with no idea what the future would bring. No certainty if he could return to school, let alone soccer, his passion from the time he was a young child. 

But Wright defied all odds. 

“I hope to get my story out to people so that they can see anything is possible,” Wright said. “I am trying to bring people inspiration and give glory to God. That was my thing in the hospital, having faith and staying faithful to God, knowing that I'll be OK and he's got me.” 

Wright was guided by his faith throughout his hospital stay. He and his mom prayed throughout the journey, and she kept a bible verse at the edge of her son’s bed that they read every day as he fought for his life. It’s Psalm 30:2: 

Lord my god, I called to you for help, and you healed me. 

Those prayers began virtually the moment Wright arrived at the emergency room. A CT scan showed that his brain was filling with fluid, and an MRI revealed a cyst in the third ventricle of his brain. 

When a neurosurgeon came to review Wright’s scans, she was horrified. No one had informed her of his highly critical state. He was dying. 

“They said his brain was like a balloon and that it could burst at any moment,” Mancilla said. “I had to sign a paper giving them permission to go in and drain his brain immediately because he could have brain damage or die.”  

There was not space available or time to get Wright into an operating room. Instead, ICU nurses rushed into his room to assist the neurosurgeon, who numbed and drilled a hole in Wright’s head to drain the fluid.  

Doctors initially wanted to place a permanent shunt in Wright’s brain. Mancilla was a fierce advocate for Wright throughout his hospital stay, earning the nickname “Bulldog” from nurses. She was resistant to the shunt, worried it would affect Wright's ability to pursue his dream of becoming a firefighter. After she expressed her concerns, the lead neurosurgeon opted for a temporary shunt instead.  

Wright was in and out of consciousness for much of his time in the hospital, but a strong support system – including his mom, his aunt Vanessa, members of the family’s church, and coaches and teammates from CSUSM’s soccer team – played a crucial role in helping him through the process. 

The constant stream of visitors led Mancilla to discover the positive impact that Wright has had on so many people. His manager at Casero Taqueria, where he still works, reached out to Mancilla asking for permission to start a GoFundMe. The community raised $14,000, the exact amount needed to cover the family’s maximum out-of-pocket medical costs. 

“I didn't realize how many people Malachi has impacted,” Mancilla said. “Sometimes as a parent, you don't get to see all that until these types of things happen. Sometimes we focus a little too much on what they're doing wrong and not on all the other good things that they're doing that maybe they don't tell you about. 

“I told him, ‘This is all because of the seeds that you've planted out in the world, and this is how it's all coming back to you. So continue to be who you are.’ I am so proud of that. I was such a proud parent.” 

Wright endured three brain surgeries during his hospital stay. The first removed the majority of the cyst, the second cleared residuals of the cyst and the third addressed blood clots.  

It was a physically and mentally draining process. After the first surgery, Wright was temporarily paralyzed on his left side. He couldn’t sleep and was in constant agony. 

“It was the worst pain I felt in my life. It was excruciating,” Wright said. “It was really hard. I was confused, wondering where I was. It was a lot of scary stuff.” 

It wasn’t until Wright’s 35th day in the hospital that Mancilla felt like her son would be OK. His pain levels were reduced and he could walk again. But the biggest sign to Mancilla that Wright was doing better? He asked for his phone, which he hadn’t been able to use for most of his hospital stint. 

Though Wright’s pain was finally under control, other challenges remained once he left the hospital. He underwent cognitive, physical and speech therapy. Doctors expected the recovery process to take two years, but Mancilla knew her son had the fortitude for a quicker recovery. She could see that Wright was capable of more than he was initially allowed to do in the rehabilitation process, and her tireless advocacy paid off. 

Wright returned to CSUSM in the fall of 2023, just months after his hospital release. He eased back in by taking one class before increasing his load to three courses in spring 2024. He is grateful for the support he received throughout this time from coaches, teammates and athletic department staff, also noting the important role that CSUSM’s Disability Support Services played in helping him return to the classroom.  

 A little more than a year after his three surgeries, Wright was back as a full-time student and soccer player. Wright didn’t just settle into classes, he thrived in them. He received a 4.0 grade-point average, making him the highest academic performer on the soccer team.  

“Not only did he heal perfectly, he's a better version of himself,” Mancilla said. “He turned something that caused him so much pain into good. He continues to make good choices for himself. He uses that painful experience and turns it into good.” 

That includes his efforts on the soccer field. Returning to the sport he loves was an impressive milestone for Wright, especially because it was considered virtually impossible just months earlier.  

Perhaps the most powerful moment of the 2024 season came in a match against Biola University. As the first half was winding down, Wright scored his first goal since the health scare. Mancilla, who never misses a game, ran down to the field. Coaches welcomed and hugged Mancilla as she rejoiced over the milestone.  

“It was a great, raw moment of emotion, love and gratitude,” said Ron Pulvers, CSUSM’s men’s soccer coach. “An experience I will never forget. 

“Malachi is a tireless worker in all aspects of life. He lives our core value of unconditional gratitude at the highest levels and lives his life with unequalled faith.” 

Wright is back on the field this fall as he continues work toward a bachelor’s degree in human development. He is scheduled to graduate in fall 2026, with an ambition of becoming a firefighter. 

While his time spent in the hospital was scary, the support he received helped him overcome adversity and his faith helped him remain positive. He now uses his experience to encourage others and push himself to perform the best he can.  

“People meet Jesus at the end of the rope. And that was the end of my rope,” Wright said. “Going through this whole experience with my brain really changed my perspective on life and it changed my character as a man.” 

Media Contact

Eric Breier, Interim Assistant Director of Editorial and External Affairs

ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

One day, McDermid will be meeting with a company that is developing what are effectively electric helicopters designed to cover distances of less than 100 miles – basically, an Uber for the skies. The next day, she’ll sit down with a business that’s building a device that captures a semi truck’s carbon emissions directly from the tailpipe, pumps it into a tank, then either buries it underground or sells the CO2 for use in products like soda.  

Still other days might include huddles with firms that make rooftop solar panels, heat pump water heaters, even self-driving cars.   

“Each of the clients that I work with, I get a chance to embed in their team,” McDermid said. “I get to jump around. And not only is the subject matter different, but the people are different and the vibe is different. I like that diversity.” 

Those clients, in turn, value McDermid’s expertise, so much so that they’re willing to pay handsomely for it, in many cases while they’re still trying to get off the ground as a startup. The Cal State San Marcos alumna is the founding partner of Caliber Strategies, a Sacramento-based lobbying firm that helps energy and climate companies – whether sexy startups or stodgy utilities – navigate the regulatory maze that is the California policy arena.  

In doing so, McDermid draws on almost two decades of experience in state politics and policymaking, going back to when she was a clean energy adviser to former Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger in her early 20s, only a few years after graduating from CSUSM with a degree in biology.  

“I founded this company because it’s really challenging to bring new technologies to market, especially in a place like California where the market rules are quite complex and there are all these different agencies doing different things,” McDermid said. “We focus exclusively on climate and energy, and primarily on what I refer to as disruptive technologies.” 

Founded in 2013, Caliber now totals eight employees, and one of McDermid’s fellow partners is Michael Picker, former president of the California Public Utilities Commission (CPUC), the nonpartisan body charged with regulating the state’s utilities. The company has almost 50 clients, including investment management giant Blackstone, accounting firm KPMG and Sunrun, one of the nation’s biggest solar installers. 

Sometimes Caliber’s clients take the form of a legacy company that’s opening a new product line. A.O. Smith Corporation, for example, has been around for 150 years and is one of the world’s leading manufacturers of water heaters and boilers, with annual sales of almost $4 billion. But as California increasingly moves toward the full electrification of all buildings, A.O. Smith is gravitating toward heat pumps, which heat water using electricity instead of gas.  

Enter Caliber. The company worked with a team of nonprofit, industry and environmental organizations to help pass legislation to allocate about $44 million in incentives for heat pumps. Caliber then led an effort with this coalition and the CPUC to design an incentive program that would offer state residents payments of up to $7,300 for installing heat pumps.  

Another category of clients is fledgling businesses with an innovative solution to a climate-related problem. Charm Industrial is a Bay Area startup with a mission to, as its website touts, “put oil back underground,” an elegantly simple description of the complex science involved in carbon capture and sequestration. Charm approached Caliber in its infancy, seeking to get introduced to the right people, increase its name recognition and create a market from scratch.  

“It’s about streamlining the process, and even more so trying to educate regulators,” McDermid said. “We educate regulators and policymakers about what the needs of new technologies are. After the policymaker has already said, for example, we want electric cars and you have the market ready, there remain all these barriers that no one has figured out. So it’s a collaborative process to figure out how we get from where we are now to where we want to be.” 

It was at CSUSM where McDermid discovered her twin passions for environmental science and public policy. Having initially enrolled at the university on a cross country and track and field scholarship (she competed for two years before injuries forced her to stop), she decided she wanted to pursue conservation biology and save the earth one planted tree at a time.  

At some point in her college journey, however, it dawned on her that planting trees – even 10 to 20 acres worth – couldn’t compare with, say, protecting millions of acres through legislation. As a junior, McDermid spent the fall semester in Washington, D.C., as part of the Panetta Congressional Internship Program, and when she returned, she ran for and was elected president of Associated Students, Inc., for her senior year in 2004-05. She even started a progressive activist organization with some friends.  

“CSUSM was this perfect testing ground to try out all these different things,” she said. 

Using her student experience as a springboard, McDermid was accepted after graduation into the Capital Fellows Program, an initiative through Sacramento State that offers paid, full-time fellowships in each branch of California’s government. She was assigned to Gov. Schwarzenegger’s office for a year, followed by a year working in the office of First Lady Maria Shriver.  

In 2008, McDermid got her big break when Susan Kennedy, still early in her tenure as Schwarzenegger’s chief of staff, acted on a recommendation to tap McDermid as her top deputy. Kennedy was seeking not an executive assistant but someone who could step into her high-pressure position when necessary and not miss a beat. In McDermid, she found a kindred spirit, essentially a younger version of herself.  

“She was perfect,” Kennedy said. “She looked out at the landscape from the perspective of, if she were the chief of staff to the governor, how would you prepare for this? How would you brief him on this? What information do you need from the agencies or the departments or the senior staff? 

“It’s a very tough role to step into, and she earned everyone’s respect because she was so good at what she did. She made me twice as good at what I was doing because she was as good as me.” 

Near the end of his eight years as governor, Schwarzenegger began to feel a particular urgency to buttress his accomplishments in the climate space. He tasked Kennedy with figuring out how to secure permitting for a host of renewable energy projects being incentivized by the Obama administration, and Kennedy in turn tasked not only Picker – the former CPUC president and current Caliber partner – but also McDermid.  

“It was a failure-is-not-an-option initiative by the governor,” Kennedy said. “I gave Michael all the power, and I gave him the most powerful weapon I could think of, which was Manal. The two of them were responsible for basically unlocking gigawatts of renewable energy in California, which completely changed the landscape of the state’s climate initiatives.” 

McDermid’s efforts were so successful that, when Schwarzenegger left office in 2011 and Jerry Brown entered, she was among just a handful of staffers retained out of the nearly 100 in the governor’s office. She departed later that year to take a job in Washington as a lobbyist for NextEra Energy, an electric utility holding giant, before Kennedy lured her back to California in 2013.  

With her longtime mentor, McDermid launched not only Caliber but also Advanced Microgrid Solutions (AMS), a company that was born out of the shuttering of the San Onofre nuclear power station in June 2013. That closure created an immediate 20% power shortage in large portions of Los Angeles, a gap that AMS filled by building what McDermid called the “world’s largest virtual power plant” – battery storage systems at commercial sites like Kaiser Permanente, Irvine Company and Walmart. Over time, AMS shifted its focus from developing those large-scale energy storage projects to providing software that allowed others to optimize their own energy storage assets. 

When AMS was sold in 2020, McDermid rededicated herself to Caliber, which had been on the back burner for a few years. During the pandemic, she got married and moved from San Diego (where she grew up after her family escaped war-torn Lebanon when she was 3) to Santa Barbara, her husband’s hometown. Manal and Hitch, her husband, have a 3-year-old son, Malek.  

McDermid makes frequent trips to Sacramento and to San Francisco, where Caliber has a small office. Not coincidentally, the Bay Area also is the headquarters of the CPUC, one of the regulatory bodies that Caliber works closely with, along with the California Energy Commission, the Air Resources Board and the Natural Resources Agency. 

Many for-profit companies have an adversarial relationship with the regulators that establish the rules governing them, but that’s not the case with Caliber or most of its clients. They’re all in the same boat and rowing in the same direction when it comes to the state’s ambitious climate goals, which is one of myriad reasons why McDermid loves the work she does.  

“We’re very focused in California precisely because we actually want to get things done,” McDermid said. “I don’t want to spend my time convincing someone that climate change is a problem or that we should put more electric vehicles on the roads. The nice thing about California is, at the highest level, the leadership is completely bought in on what the problem is. And it’s more about figuring out: How do we solve it?” 

Manal Yamout McDermid 

Major at CSUSM: Biology 

Graduation year: 2005 

Company: Caliber Strategies 

Website: caliberstrat.com 

Founded: 2013 

Number of employees: 8 

Talking Business With Manal Yamout McDermid

What's the best advice you received about starting a business? 

Work with people you like. It's super simple, but if you pick people you like and admire and want to spend an inordinate amount of time with, you really can't go wrong. In some ways, getting the people right is more important than the idea and the path to market.  

What advice would you give budding entrepreneurs? 

Same advice as the first one: Choose your partners carefully, and choose them based on their character, their integrity and your level of trust in them. Don’t just think about breaking into a market. 

What's the greatest challenge in starting your own business? 

I think it's the uncertainty and the self-doubt that come with it, like: Should I grow? The greatest challenge is believing that as you scale up, things will work out, and getting the confidence to take that next step. 

Knowing what you know now, is there anything you would have done differently?  

No. I'm a firm believer that whatever happens was supposed to happen, and it doesn't mean that it was good. But I wouldn't have done it differently.  

What are the qualities of a good entrepreneur?  

I would say confidence, belief in yourself. The ability to really pay attention to what's happening around you, whether that's the market or the people you surround yourself with. 

Media Contact

Brian Hiro, Communications Specialist

bhiro@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7306

Each student was required to develop a business plan based on a product they conceived. Finestone decided to curate a product that combined her passion for cooking with a childhood love of chocolate milk.  

But Finestone wanted to develop a healthy alternative to other chocolate milks on the market. She noticed that there was a growing demand for more plant-based options, and she wanted to create a product that would avoid a laundry list of unfamiliar ingredients. 

When Finestone couldn’t find a product on the market that met her requirements, she chose to make her own. Using her Vitamix blender to grind almonds in her kitchen at home, Finestone crafted samples of chocolate- and strawberry-flavored, plant-based almond milk. She served it to each student in the class while presenting her product. 

“I remember a classmate saying, ‘I do not drink flavored milk, no matter what kind of milk it is, but I would buy this one,’ ” said Finestone, then known by her maiden name of Mandim. 

The overwhelming support from her peers inspired Finestone to launch The Mulk Co. in June 2018, only one year after she graduated from Cal State San Marcos with a bachelor’s degree in global business management. 

“What she is doing in starting up a food business is extremely difficult,” said Dick Lansing, who worked with Finestone as part of the College of Business Administration’s Career Mentor Program. “There are all sorts of hurdles and problems and costs that you need to go through and take into consideration. 

“I generally don't recommend anybody go into the food business, as an individual person, unless they have a lot of money they want to lose. But she had a plan, which was really good and really smart.” 

Today, Finestone’s signature almond milk is available at nine farmers markets throughout San Diego County and three in Los Angeles. She has gone from grinding almonds in her kitchen to using a commercial space in Vista, where she produces 10 different flavors and three seasonal offerings. The chocolate and strawberry flavors that she shared in class are among the most popular – and the recipe hasn’t changed much since then.  

“I can’t pick a favorite, but I associate each flavor with a memory,” Finestone said. “When I think of strawberry, I think of the student who complimented me in class because I couldn’t believe that she liked it so much.” 

Finestone takes pride in using only real ingredients in her almond milk; it contains no additives, fillers or preservatives. She sources her almonds from a farm in California’s Central Valley, where 80% of all almonds in the United States are harvested. 

Mulk has become so successful that Finestone has employees to cover the numerous farmers markets, though she still can be found each Sunday at the Leucadia Farmers Market.  

“My husband tries to get me to stay home and rest on Sundays, but I just love it,” she said. “There’s just something about the community and relationships you build with other vendors. I love the friendships you make, not just with your customers but with fellow business owners.” 

Finestone never intended to be an entrepreneur. It took a one-way ticket around the world for her to discover this path. 

Finestone grew up in South Africa, where she earned a bachelor’s in fine arts from Witwatersrand College and then graduated from Inscape Design College. She had a well-established career in interior design, even winning an interior designer of the year award for Virgin Airlines’ launch in South Africa. 

When Finestone’s parents moved to Australia, where her sister had landed a job, Finestone decided to move with them. But she quickly learned that Australia wasn’t where she wanted to live long term. Instead, she packed her belongings to find someplace that felt like home. It began a journey that took her from Melbourne to Sydney and then on to Chile, Brazil, Peru, Argentina, Bolivia, India and Thailand. 

With visits to more than 30 countries over her lifetime, Finestone credits the globe-trotting experiences for shaping her as a businessperson. In fact, it was a trip to India that inspired one of Mulk’s most popular flavors. The company’s golden almond milk is blended with turmeric, cinnamon and ginger, a nod to the Indian drink masala haldi doodh, which translates to “golden milk.”  

“I remember drinking it at Indian street markets, and it was delicious,” Finestone said. “I knew I wanted to create a version of it for Mulk.” 

After nine months of traveling, Finestone returned to Australia to see her family. She didn’t stay long, taking an offer to visit a friend in Los Angeles. This trip was different from the others, though. It was her first time in the United States, and she fell in love with Southern California. 

Finestone found herself with new opportunities, and she leaned into her passion for cooking, which had been a constant in her life since she was 6 years old and honing her skills with her mother and grandmother. Her talents led to a job as a chef for Oscar-winning composer Hans Zimmer. 

But Finestone yearned for something else. She started studying business leadership and management at Santa Monica College and landed internships in public relations and marketing. She always thought her time in the U.S. would be temporary, that she would eventually return to Australia to be closer to her family. Then she met her future husband, Adam. 

One of Finestone’s internships was located next to the packing and shipping company owned by Adam’s parents. She frequented the store to mail packages, becoming such a regular that Adam’s parents invited her to a Christmas party where she met their son, who was visiting from San Diego. 

Finestone eventually moved south to be closer to Adam and continued to pursue her business degree, first at Palomar College and then at CSUSM. 

“I liked the idea of having a degree that would support any industry,” Finestone said. 

Finestone also had support from Adam, whom she credits for inspiring the name of her almond milk business. 

“My husband makes fun of me when I say ‘milk.’ It sounds like I’m saying ‘mulk’ because of my South African accent,” Finestone said. “The name just stuck, and I felt like it was fitting for my business.” 

Starting any business comes with challenges, and the food industry is notoriously difficult for budding entrepreneurs. It wasn’t just Lansing, a College of Business Administration advisory council member, who warned Finestone about how grueling it could be.  

As Finestone grappled with whether to start a business or find a corporate job, she reached out a week after graduation to Jim Hamerly, then the college’s dean. 

“I certainly shared some of my concerns and skepticism with Melissa about starting a food business,” Hamerly said. “She told me, ‘Well, I'm manufacturing it in my kitchen at home and I'm crushing my own almonds.’ And I'm thinking, ‘Oh my.’ ” 

Hamerly knew that could be problematic for adhering to U.S. Food and Drug Administration guidelines and that a commercial kitchen would be needed. At the time, Hamerly was helping his brother with a soup stock business, which required Hamerly to learn about packaging and manufacturing fluids. He shared what he learned with Finestone, even connecting her with his brother. 

Both Hamerly and Lansing were impressed with Finestone’s drive to launch her business. She decided after meeting with them that she would start small and serve her milk at a few local farmers markets. It was familiar territory to Finestone, who worked as a food service vendor for Bitchin’ Sauce, an almond dip company, while attending CSUSM. 

“I knew the lay of the land,” Finestone said. “I was able to create connections with other farmers market vendors and get ideas for my business.”  

When Finestone was just starting out, Hamerly was a regular visitor to her booth at Poway’s farmers market on Saturday mornings to support her and purchase Mulk products.  

“She's really good with people,” Hamerly said. “I used to sit on the sidelines and watch her sell to people as they came through the farmers market. A lot of CSUSM students start businesses, but she's really got a great head for business. She gets it.” 

Six years after launching Mulk, Finestone is familiar with the landmines that come with owning a business. But the happiness that radiates from her customers keeps her going. She is continuing to grow the business, with hopes of one day having Mulk available in Whole Foods. 

Finestone still thinks often about the day that her classmates tried her almond milk for the first time. She smiles when she recalls their reaction, and the memory never ceases to fuel her motivation for the future. 

“I have had lots of challenges,” Finestone said. “But I believe in my product and I see people’s faces when they find something they like. And when customers keep coming back, it just tells me that I'm actually fulfilling some sort of need. That's really what keeps me going.”  

Melissa Finestone 

Major at CSUSM: Global business management 

Graduation year: 2017 

Company: The Mulk Co. 

Website: themulkco.com 

Founded: 2018 

Number of employees: 3 

What advice would you give budding entrepreneurs? 

“Rank on a scale of 1 to 10 how passionate you are about this idea because it needs to be 11. Don't be scared of starting a business. It might fail, but it also might set you up for your next success. I've come across entrepreneurs who have started one product, realized there were a lot of roadblocks with the product and then they switch and start doing something else. And then they actually move forward with that one.” 

 What’s the greatest challenge in starting your own business? 

“Employees and when your equipment breaks. I use industrial equipment and I'm not an engineer. So if something goes wrong, it's really stuck.” 

 Knowing what you know now, is there anything you would have done differently? 

“It would have been so cool if I was studying business while I was starting a business. Because I think I would learn a lot of principles and it would have helped getting feedback from professors.”  

 What are the qualities of a good entrepreneur? 

“Resourcefulness, passion and a high learning curve.” 

Media Contact

Bri Phillips, Communications Specialist

bphillips@csusm.edu

That was the situation Elijah Schneider found himself in as a freshman at Cal State San Marcos when he attended a Thanksgiving celebration in the fall of 2015. One of the guests that day – Schneider remembers him being a neighbor or a distant family friend – was a business owner who was soliciting opinions about his company’s Instagram channel.  

Though firmly in its core demographic, Schneider was no big afficionado of Instagram – he estimates that he had posted fewer than 20 times in about a decade of having an account. He was (and is), however, very opinionated. So while fellow attendees declined the invitation to weigh in, Schneider didn’t hold back. 

He told the man that his company’s feed looked ugly, that the images resembled generic stock photography and that he should replace whatever marketing agency handled his social media. A few days later, Schneider followed up with a phone call in which he proposed a rather bold suggestion for who should be the replacement. 

As Schneider recalls it: “I was like, ‘Hey, you’re getting ripped off. You told me you’re paying this agency 10 grand month or something. How about you pay me 1,500 bucks a month? I will learn, I will become obsessed with this. Give me three months. If it doesn’t work, get rid of me.’ ” 

To Schneider’s surprise, the man agreed to the gambit. Schneider had promised that he would devote 10 hours a week to the enterprise, but he grew so fixated that he doubled it. After a few months, the company’s Instagram following had swelled by a factor of eight, and the man was so pleased that he wanted more services.  

“Do you know how to do paid ads?” he asked Schneider. 

“No, but I’ll figure it out,” Schneider replied, with a degree of self-assurance that would become his trademark.  

He did indeed, to the tune of quintupling a $1,000 investment in paid ads after taking a few courses on YouTube and LinkedIn. By the end of his freshman year, Schneider was managing tens of thousands of advertising dollars, being connected to a second client and hiring his first employee – all while living in The QUAD housing facility and taking classes toward his major in business administration. 

As a teenager in his dorm room, Schneider founded a digital marketing agency that he first called Mercury Media before changing the name to Modifly in 2017. He continued to build the company during his five years at CSUSM – eventually moving into an office at Union Cowork across the street from campus in North City – before graduating in 2020.  

Today, Modifly occupies a sleek, modern, 8,000-square-foot space in a high rise in downtown San Diego, a short walk from where Schneider lives with his wife, Sarah, an OR nurse at UC San Diego whom he met at CSUSM. Two years ago, Schneider sold a majority stake in his nascent business to a parent company called CourtAvenue, helping his team grow to 30 employees spread across four cities, including Mexico City. Modifly’s current and former clients include such brands as Mercedes-Benz, Nordstrom and UGG boots.   

Asked about his unorthodox path to becoming an entrepreneur, the now 27-year-old Schneider said: “Because I didn’t have the baggage of working for other companies, I hadn’t developed bad habits. I had to develop perspective, which allowed me to – with no experience – test things and see what’s working and what’s not. Not having a traditional background is fantastic in terms of the progression of the business because we do things differently. Every time somebody joins the company from another agency, they’re like, ‘It’s not supposed to work like this.’ And I’m like, ‘I know, it’s great.’ ” 

How does Schneider do things differently? He conducts a performance evaluation called a 360 review in which every employee of the company evaluates everyone else, meaning that the CEO (Schneider) can get critiqued by a lower-level worker who was just hired.  

“It’s not about age or experience,” Schneider said. “Everyone’s perspective is critical.” 

How does he do things differently? Even as the young leader of a young business, he’s not afraid to call established companies out on what he sees as flawed marketing strategies and to propose solutions that constitute much more than tinkering around the edges.  

Take Poo-Pourri, which devises and sells fragrant sprays for toilets. The company approached Modifly after its previous marketing partner didn’t work out. After a deep dive into customer feedback, Schneider proposed a complete overhaul of its approach, mostly notably removing the “Poo” and broadening to other types of sprays. Now rebranded as ~Pourri, the company peddles fragrances that reduce odors from not only the bathroom, but also pets, cars, shoes, baby diapers, even marijuana. 

“Digital media and digital marketing are constantly changing – every hour, it feels like,” Schneider said. “It’s a giant puzzle, and if you have to navigate that as a brand, it can become really confusing. I love this business because it pushes me to think outside the box to solve problems.” 

Schneider’s righthand man almost since the outset of his entrepreneurial journey has been Brandon Biancalani. They met at orientation before their first year at CSUSM – Schneider an incoming freshman from San Diego, Biancalani from San Clemente. They soon learned that they would be living a couple rooms down from each other on the same floor of The QUAD (Schneider’s future wife lived a few rooms down in the other direction).  

Biancalani initially was struck by Schneider’s outspokenness – a sharp contrast to his introversion – but while other residents of the dorm were distracted by partying or other teenage concerns, he and Schneider bonded over long, late-night conversations about life goals. Having entered CSUSM as a kinesiology student, Biancalani quickly realized it wasn’t for him, and when Schneider dangled an opportunity in the summer of 2016 to be Employee No. 2 for Modifly (then Mercury Media), Biancalani jumped at it.  

They moved into an apartment south of campus and lived together for the next 3½ years before graduating in the same class. Biancalani, who’s also married to a fellow CSUSM alumna, is now the head of paid media for Modifly.  

“We had this feeling early on that we could be really successful with this,” Biancalani said. “Even when we didn’t have an office, we’d meet at a coffee shop, just a couple kids figuring stuff out. And then it started turning into something big really fast.” 

Biancalani says their business partnership works so well because he’s a detail-oriented, data-crunching specialist while Schneider is a big-picture visionary.  

“Elijah has done so many personality quizzes that land him in that ‘thought leader’ category,” he said. “If something new pops up, he’s probably three steps ahead and already is best buddies with the person who owns the company. His superpower is that he can predict things and be on the cutting edge and be fearless in voicing that early. And he’s right 99% of the time.” 

After Schneider sold his majority stake in Modifly in 2022, he turned over day-to-day operations to a new president, Nico Coetzee, who’s been in the marketing business since Schneider was an infant. Now that he has built a stable company, Schneider is relentlessly focused on its growth. He travels frequently to meet potential clients, speak at conferences and generally proselytize on behalf of Modifly.  

Given that he stumbled upon his career in the most accidental way imaginable – giving offhand advice to someone at a family gathering – even Schneider is often amazed by the passion he feels for it.  

“I pour myself into this job because I can and because I want to,” he said. “It doesn’t feel like work; it’s my favorite thing. There are definitely days where I’m like, ‘I just want to go home, I’m done.’ But 99 out of 100 days, I love what I do.” 

Elijah Schneider 

Major at CSUSM: Business administration 

Graduation year: 2020 

Company: Modifly 

Website: wemodifly.com 

Founded: 2016 

Number of employees: 30 

Talking Business With Elijah Schneider

What's the best advice you received about starting a business? 

Surround yourself with the right people. You are a product of your environment, and if you have morally good people around you, then every piece of advice you're receiving is typically to your benefit. People over everything – that's the biggest thing.  

What advice would you give budding entrepreneurs? 

If you have an idea for a business, just do it. Don't overthink it. Just put it in the market. Also, make sure you give yourself permission to take a step back and look at the bigger picture. 

What's the greatest challenge in starting your own business? 

For me, it was age and experience. I didn't really have a good mentor system around me. The people I could turn to for advice, I kind of had to build that as we went.  

Knowing what you know now, is there anything you would have done differently?  

I would have evaluated myself more. I am good at some things, I am great at others and I am horrendous at others. I wish I had been able to take a step back and evaluate myself in a way where I could place levers of accountability to fill the holes.  

What are the qualities of a good entrepreneur?  

First and foremost is awareness. You have to be aware of yourself, your environment, your strengths and weaknesses. Number two is vision. As an entrepreneur, if you cannot bring people together to accomplish something, whether it's a task or solving a specific problem, you're not going to do well. 

Media Contact

Brian Hiro, Communications Specialist

bhiro@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7306

I still have the picture I drew in elementary school when I was 8 years old. It’s a self-portrait with my dream job scrawled on the paper: “scantist.” 

I came across that picture not so long ago and, while my spelling has improved greatly since then, the statistics related to the number of Black people employed in science and engineering remain stark. Just 3% are Black men, according to the National Science Foundation. The numbers are worse for Black women like me – just 2%. 

But I’ve never been someone to let numbers define me or statistics deter me from pursuing my dreams.  

That’s probably a good thing considering I’m also part of another group that, statistically, struggles to complete college – former foster youth. Less than 3% of former foster youth earn a bachelor’s degree, according to the Education Commission of the States. 

I’m proud that I’m part of those small groups since graduating from Cal State San Marcos in May with my bachelor’s in biological sciences. Now I want to help other students do the same and see those percentages grow. Much like me, most just need an opportunity. 

It’s a lesson I learned from my grandmother, who taught me the importance of simply showing up and taking a chance on someone. In my grandmother’s case, she took in my three sisters and me when our mother couldn’t care for us. 

I’m also grateful to CSUSM for taking a chance on me. At the university, I had the good fortune of being in U-RISE, which is the Undergraduate Research Initiative for Scientific Enhancement program. Part of CSUSM’s Center for Training, Research and Educational Excellence, or CTREE for short, the U-RISE program prepares talented and motivated underrepresented students majoring in the sciences to enter and succeed in doctoral studies.  

It was in U-RISE that I met some truly special mentors who stepped up on my behalf. 

CTREE and U-RISE have eligibility requirements – and I didn’t meet all of them. It’s not that I wasn’t good at science or passionate about my studies. But my grades weren't at the level that U-RISE requires. I had always been a strong student in high school. I earned a spot on the honor roll each semester and was involved in numerous extracurricular activities. But I struggled when I started college. I wasn’t as prepared as I thought. 

Fortunately for me, CTREE’s leaders looked beyond the numbers (in this case, my grade-point average). They took into account the challenges I was working to overcome and saw my potential. They were willing to take a chance on me. And it was truly life-changing. 

Becoming part of U-RISE led me to a spot in the lab of biology professor Dennis Kolosov, who was there for me every step of the way. Whether it was answering a question, meeting one-on-one or providing professional development, Dr. Kolosov was crucial to my development and shaping my identity as a scientist. 

The support that CSUSM provides is second to none, from faculty like Dr. Kolosov and Dr. Mallory Rice, who inspire students each day, to staff like Shanelle Watkins, the Black Student Success Initiatives coordinator in the Black Student Center. 

This fall, I’m starting a Ph.D. program at UC Irvine, where I will be studying immunology. While I put in years of hard work to get here, my support system at CSUSM was critical in helping me reach this point. 

I’m looking forward to helping other students like me in the future, whether through a nonprofit organization to give back to the community in my hometown of Rialto near San Bernardino, or by helping STEM students at CSUSM navigate the path toward their degree. 

I know firsthand how important representation is for students of marginalized groups, and I know what it’s like to persevere. Each time I have fallen, I have gotten back up. I crawled, walked and ran toward my degree at CSUSM. Now, I want to serve as a positive example and role model to ensure that other students facing similar challenges aren’t left behind. 

Media Contact

Eric Breier, Interim Assistant Director of Editorial and External Affairs

ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

Quickly, the court she loved so much became a source of distress, and Blake found herself faced with her biggest opponent yet: depression. 

“I stopped caring about volleyball,” Blake said. “I even ended up not finishing club that year. I was just going through a lot mentally and couldn’t continue having that pressure on my shoulders.” 

Blake began skipping school to cope with her loss of motivation and overwhelming anxiety. She no longer had the desire to connect with her peers and spent most of her time isolated from loved ones. As Blake disappeared inside of herself, she found it increasingly difficult to face the outside world. 

“My house was walking distance from school, so my mom would drop me off and I would just walk back home once she was at work,” Blake said. “I didn’t want to be at school. I knew I would just go to the bathroom and cry.” 

Blake was raised in a single-parent household. Her father, who died in July 2023, was not in the picture due to addiction issues, so Blake grew up surrounded by her mom, older sister and younger brother. Having only each other to rely on, they became a team, always ready to support one another.   

As Blake’s streak of unexcused absences continued to grow, her mom learned of the situation from Blake’s high school counselor. Taken aback by her daughter acting so out of character, she knew it was time to intervene.   

“Jada’s freshman year was a struggle,” said Brianna Becker, Blake’s mom. “I would get that automated phone call every day at 4 p.m. saying your child missed class. There were even times I left work early and would find her at home. So, I started staying at home more and going into work late. Anything I could to make sure she went to school.   

“As a young single mom with no child support, it was just us most of the time. I feel like I grew up with them. I always want my kids to be open with me, and I feel like they can come to me about anything in the world. If there’s something I can’t do for them, we’ll figure it out together.” 

Blake’s first year of high school progressed, and with the help of her family, she started to throw herself back into school and social activities. As she regained a sense of motivation, she felt ready to resume her athletic pursuits as well. Her sophomore year, she kickstarted a long-standing reunion with the court and concluded the last three years of her high school sports career on a high, playing on varsity and being a candidate for league player of the year.   

Unfortunately, when it came time to explore colleges, her volleyball recruiting process was derailed by the pandemic. During such a time of uncertainty, it was practical for Blake to stay with family and attend community college in her hometown of Phoenix. There, she gained a strong foothold on her academics and started to feel confident in her schoolwork.  

“In high school, academics didn’t come naturally to me,” Blake said. “I always felt discouraged in that realm. I knew that I wanted to go to college, and while my sister had academic scholarships that were taking her there, I didn’t have that. I only had volleyball, and I had left it for a time.  

“You don’t realize when you’re super young that just one semester of making the wrong decisions and not prioritizing the right things can throw a lot of opportunities down the drain. My sophomore, junior and senior year were mainly just focused on fixing my freshman year.   

“But I’m actually very happy that I started with community college because it helped me with the transition from high school to university. Those two years in junior college taught me so much about how I could excel as a first-generation student athlete. In fact, that first semester after the pandemic was my first semester ever getting straight A’s.”  

When it came time for Blake to transfer to a four-year college, she was introduced to CSUSM’s head volleyball coach, Andrea Leonard. It felt like an instant connection between the two, and Blake knew she had found the school for her. As she made the plunge and moved to California last fall, she felt like she could finally breathe. She had earned her scholarship and could now play volleyball while pursuing a bachelor’s degree in communication.  

Blake’s freshman year of high school was no longer a regretful memory, but a marker of her resilience and ability to overcome any challenge thrown her way. 

“I knew Jada was going to be an impactful player in our program,” Leonard said. “She really embodies all the core values that we look for, someone who is resilient, accountable and driven. She has this energy that bounces off the team and brings joy to everyone around her.” 

Blake lives with her great aunt, a local volleyball legend in the San Diego area, and her great aunt’s daughter, a fellow volleyball player. Although she was initially anxious about moving away from her family and falling back into old habits, Blake found a second home, dubbed “the volleyball house,” where she is excitedly taking on this new journey and staying on top of her volleyball and academic commitments. 

After her freshman year, Blake learned the importance of seeking outside help when needed. She now stays on top of her mental health by meeting with a therapist and talking with her family every day. They are her biggest supporters and regularly make the six-hour drive to San Marcos to watch her games. Knowing she can always count on her family to be by her side, Blake feels like she can overcome any barrier that stands in her path, mental or physical. 

“I just love watching her play,” Becker said. “I’m so proud of her and so happy that she’s in the position that she is in now. Seeing how far she has come and how things have turned around for her — it makes me emotional. At the end of the day, there’s going to be things in life that knock you down, but you have to pick yourself back up and fight for something that you are truly passionate about. And she did. And she has so much more to look forward to.” 

Media Contact

Eric Breier, Interim Assistant Director of Editorial and External Affairs

ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

On a Thursday afternoon in mid-February, a group of residents at the Bayshire Carlsbad assisted living facility made the exotic trip for free when white virtual reality headsets were placed over their faces.  

“You better hold on to your seat!” a resident named Jim Conley exclaimed as he craned his neck back and forth and spotted elephants, gorillas and monkeys in his field of vision, with a spectacular mountain range as the backdrop. “Boy, that is one pretty picture.” 

While Conley, seated in the first row of chairs, grew increasingly enmeshed in the virtual paradise around him, Jeremy Ford walked among the couple dozen other residents on hand for the VR session, carefully fitting them with their own headsets. Nearby, Tracy Ford, Jeremy’s wife, chatted with a couple of the residents as if they were old friends.  

After the safari experience, the residents hopped on a (virtual) plane and traveled to Cuba, then to Argentina and South Africa. A little less than an hour later, they were back at Bayshire, their eyes transfixed, their spirits lifted.  

“Every month when they come, I’m one of the first people out there,” said Conley, 72, a former boxer who has trouble walking now. “We saw a lot of cool stuff today. How often do you get to be that close to an elephant? After a while, you have to remind yourself that it’s not real.” 

That type of transporting experience is just what Jeremy Ford himself went through three years ago when, on an ordinary shopping trip to Best Buy with his wife, he strapped on a VR headset and found himself soaring over the Golden Gate Bridge like an eagle. Jeremy is a technophile who always has been an early adopter when it comes to electronic gadgets – he has waited in line for multiple iterations of the iPhone – and this would be no exception. Tracy bought him an Oculus Quest 2 for his birthday, only a year after it had been released. 

Neither Jeremy nor Tracy studied business as students at Cal State San Marcos – Tracy graduated with a degree in criminology and justice studies in 2007, Jeremy with a degree in sociology in 2015 – but both possess an entrepreneurial bent that sees them frequently bounce ideas off each other. Here was a golden business idea staring them in the face: the opportunity to combine Jeremy’s technological savvy with Tracy’s interpersonal skills and their mutual desire to help people. 

Following a year dedicated to research and development, the Fords purchased 20 of the Quest 2 VR devices and in October 2022 launched Lightning Tours (the name was inspired by their son, Colton, now 5, and his love of the character Lightning McQueen from the Pixar film “Cars”). They considered multiple demographics as their target audience before deciding that senior living facilities made the most sense.  

“It started out with just putting on a headset, experiencing it for ourselves and wanting to share that with others,” Jeremy Ford said. “We’ve always had a passion for helping others and putting a smile on people’s faces. And that’s what we do, day in and day out.” 

Almost two years after the company was formed, Lightning Tours still hasn’t spent a penny on marketing. In the early days, the Fords pitched their concept to multiple facilities in North San Diego County by giving free virtual tours, and they gradually attracted paying customers by positive word of mouth. Now, they have grown to almost 40 VR experiences per month, and in total have given more than 500 throughout Southern California.  

As the tech guru, Jeremy handles the VR side of the business – buying and maintaining the headsets, selecting and loading the proprietary travel software, rigging the equipment so that it’s as comfortable and user-friendly as possible for an older clientele. He also has used his background in sales to drum up more customers, and he has personally directed all but one of the VR sessions (the single exception was when he had to travel for a funeral).  

Tracy, meanwhile, shoots photos and videos for the company’s social media channels while also taking the lead on communication with the residents of the facilities.  

“I try to build relationships with the seniors,” Tracy said. “I’m more of an emotional person, so I like to come in and see how they’re doing, how their day is going while he’s getting everything set up. I’d say he’s the brains of the operation, and I’m maybe more heart. 

“Although,” she added with a smile, “he does have heart.” 

Most of Lightning Tours’ clients value its service so much that they have booked standing monthly experiences. Each time, the tour is to a different country or region of the world – with rare exceptions, the destinations are places that the seniors are incapable of traveling to at this point in their lives.  

The effect can be powerful. Jeremy recalls a woman at a facility in Irvine who was initially reluctant to participate before he convinced her to give it a try. She agreed and sat quietly for the whole hour, turning her head in every direction. After the tour of Paris ended and Jeremy removed her headset, he saw that she was crying. When he asked her what was wrong, she related that her husband had died a few months earlier and that the sights during the tour brought back exhilarating memories of their frequent trips to the City of Light as a couple.  

“It was a moment that will stick out forever in terms of being able to provide that to her,” Jeremy said. “We want to bring joy to people, connect them to something that they might not otherwise be able to connect with, whether it’s the technology or whether it's the location.” 

Residents have been known to clap when the Fords enter the facility each month and to cheer after the experience. Some sites have introduced passport books, with seniors receiving stamps when they visit a new country. Olah Tupuola, the resident program director at Bayshire Carlsbad, said Lightning Tours has been a “transformative program” since the Fords first came to the center last September.  

“Their professionalism and kindness have made a significant impact on our community,” Tupuola said. “With Lightning Tours, the concept of a vacation is redefined, as residents can explore the world virtually, often while reliving cherished memories.”  

Jeremy and Tracy Ford are accidental entrepreneurs in more ways than one. A San Marcos native who’s the son of a Marine, Jeremy transferred to CSUSM from Palomar College and played on the first men’s basketball team in university history, coached by Jim Saia. He aspired to go to law school after graduation but ended up working in sales, first for a law firm and then for two large national life insurance companies.  

Tracy grew up in Oceanside and hoped to parlay her criminology degree into a career in law enforcement. But she graduated into a poor labor market caused by the 2007 recession and instead took a job in finance for 24 Hour Fitness. Unfulfilled by it, she transitioned into a role as a personal trainer for the same business. In fact, Tracy and Jeremy met at a 24 Hour Fitness gym, and they got married seven years ago.  

Both feeling boxed in by their corporate environments, they tried to turn a couple of their other late-night brainstorms into businesses, but nothing took off. Then came the fateful visit to Best Buy. Not that the birth of Lightning Tours came without hurdles. For the first 10 months of the company’s existence, Jeremy kept his full-time position at Ethos Life Insurance. 

“But there came a point where my wife was driving me to tours and I was working in the passenger seat, trying to do both jobs,” Jeremy said. “It was like, ‘OK, this isn’t sustainable. We’ve got to figure something out.’ ” 

That something was his decision to leave Ethos and dedicate himself fully to the startup in August 2023, which was accompanied by a different challenge in terms of the loss of his monthly paycheck. Jeremy called it a big leap of faith that makes him anxiety-ridden just by thinking about it.  

“They say it’s not easy to start a business, and they weren’t lying,” Tracy said. “But now we know exactly what to tell future entrepreneurs: If you think you’re ready to quit your job, wait at least six months, then do it.” 

Almost all of Lightning Tours’ clients are assisted living facilities, but the Fords have dipped their toes into other waters as well. They have brought their VR experiences to a few different daycare and after-school programs in the region, allowing children the same opportunity to see distant lands as the seniors get. This summer, they introduced a travel tour called “Around the World in Five Weeks” to the Boys & Girls Club of the South Coast Area in San Clemente, with passports and stamps for the kids to document their adventures. They also are in the process of getting approved by the San Marcos Unified School District to offer tours in local schools.  

Some of the sessions don’t even involve virtual travel. Lightning Tours has conducted some guided meditation experiences for the sales departments of businesses or for employees of high-stress jobs, such as firefighters and police officers. 

“Brick by brick, we’re building those partnerships,” Jeremy said.  

Yet the senior population remains the Fords’ primary focus, which makes sense given that there are more than 50,000 facilities for assisted living and memory care in California and they have been to only about 50 of them. The company’s growth continues apace.  Lightning Tours has two other partial owners (unpaid for now) specializing in partnerships and strategic innovation, and it’s on the verge of hiring an employee to run some of the tours and free Jeremy up to source more business.  

Last spring, the Fords bought 20 more Quest 2 headsets (the company is now owned by Meta, Facebook’s parent), doubling their inventory, and deployed them in the Inland Empire through a licensing agreement with a couple who lives there.  

“I think this will go as far as we can take it,” Jeremy said. “We’ve done things strategically because if we grow too fast, the base can be flimsy and it can all fall apart. But thinking big picture, Lightning Tours could be national, it could be in every state, every big city.  

“Where we are now is trying to put the pieces together, get this technology out there and in the hands of as many seniors as possible. We want to provide high-quality experiences and the joy of travel, get them outside of those four walls that they’re in daily.” 

Jeremy and Tracy Ford 

Major at CSUSM: Jeremy, sociology; Tracy, criminology and justice studies 

Graduation year: Tracy, 2007; Jeremy, 2015 

Company: Lightning Tours 

Website: lightningtours.co 

Founded: 2022 

Number of employees: Four 

 Talking Business With Jeremy Ford

What's the best advice you received about starting a business?  

Have goals. Having goals gives you strategic direction, and if you don't have them, you'll be spinning your wheels. When you have those goals, it enables you to focus on the main categories that will be the catalyst for your business moving forward.  

What advice would you give budding entrepreneurs? 

Be prepared for long hours, a lot of late nights. On those late nights, it can seem like you're on an island by yourself. What we learned the hard way is that having a team is very important – bringing others in to help support certain aspects of the business. Your reach expands when you let other people in to help. 

What's the greatest challenge in starting your own business? 

If you already have a full-time job, it can be difficult to decipher when it's time to quit and give your business the full attention.  

Knowing what you know now, is there anything you would have done differently? 

I would have waited longer to quit my full-time job. And I would have focused more heavily on the revenue-producing aspects of the business. Even though we do have quite a robust product now, there were times when we were building it up where the churn was at a higher rate than the income that was coming in.  

What are the qualities of a good entrepreneur? 

I can sum that up in one word: perseverance. If you do not have perseverance, you will not be an entrepreneur; you will go back into the workforce within months. If you have the ability to persevere, the ability to plan things out and execute that plan, you have a much better chance of being an entrepreneur for longer than just a few months.  

Media Contact

Brian Hiro, Communications Specialist

bhiro@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7306

Ortiz still gets nostalgic recalling childhood trips to Rite Aid to grab Thrifty’s ice cream with her parents. Her go-to flavor was chocolate, and it brought her comfort every time she ate it.  

Ortiz cherished the little things. Going for chocolate ice cream with her mom and dad may have seemed ordinary to others. But for her, growing up in a low-income family, it was always a special moment. 

 “Ice cream was always a reward,” Ortiz said. “I had to do something good to get it. Every time I had ice cream, it was always that sense of accomplishing something, even if it was something small.” 

 Now, as a business owner, Ortiz looks for special moments like these through customers at her own ice cream shop. Entrepreneurship was never something on her radar, but that changed at Cal State San Marcos. It was a combination of fond memories of eating ice cream with her family and realizing that ice cream shops have the happiest clientele. 

 “No one goes to an ice cream shop angry, right?” Ortiz said. “Customers are either really happy because they're with family or friends or they've had a really bad day and they want a pick-me-up.”  

 Since graduating from CSUSM in 2018 with a degree in marketing, Ortiz has launched a successful ice cream business, Cali Cream, with her husband, Ken Schulenburg. Ortiz has helped craft 55 different flavors, including her childhood favorite, chocolate. 

 Quality is paramount. Cali Cream ice cream is made with 16% butterfat, compared with an average of 12% for most ice cream companies.  

 “We get it shipped from the farm to us within seven days,” Ortiz said. “It's only seven days from cow to cone.”  

 Since opening steps from Moonlight Beach in Encinitas in 2016, Cali Cream has expanded to include a bakery and a second ice cream location in San Diego’s downtown Gaslamp Quarter. Cali Cream also has been featured at special events like Comic-Con International and concerts at the Rady Shell at Jacobs Park.  

 “I don't know if there was ever a moment where the lightbulb went off,” Ortiz said, “but I think there are times where you're in a place in your life where you just say, ‘Hey, I want to do something different.’ ”  

 Ortiz came to CSUSM looking for a change, intending to create a better life for her daughter, Leslie. 

 When she was 16, Ortiz learned that she was pregnant. Telling her parents was difficult, and she didn’t want them to be disappointed in her or think it would keep her from having a successful future.  

 “It was extremely hard,” she said. “You never want to disappoint your parents. And you never want to do anything that they think might hold you back. Sometimes kids make mistakes. I've learned from it, but I think I've turned it around. I also believe that there are certain things that just kind of happen for a reason, and I feel like she's my biggest motivator. We’ve grown up together.” 

 Leslie was born prematurely, weighing just 4 pounds. Ortiz was facing adult responsibilities at a young age, but Leslie was a constant source of inspiration and motivation.  

 “At that time, it was so difficult to try to navigate everything,” Ortiz said. “But I ended up just striving forward again. I'm not going to be a statistic. I'm not going to let something like that hold me back. I needed to give my family – and I needed to give my daughter – a good example.”  

 When Ortiz was introduced to Rebeca Perren, a CSUSM marketing professor and former faculty mentor in the College of Business Administration’s mentorship program, she was clear that going back to school at age 30 was all for Leslie. And Perren was excited by the possibility of helping Latina students because when she was a student, she rarely saw people like her in the classroom. 

 “I wanted to help students who were like me,” Perren said. “And just by chance, Juliana was the student who was assigned to me. I got to know Juliana and her story, not just as a first-generation college student, but as a mother. She had a teenage daughter and she wanted to get her degree before her daughter went off to college. I had children myself, and we connected on so many different levels.” 

 Perren and Ortiz would meet to discuss class assignments and the struggles of being Latina in higher education. Ortiz saw that Perren regularly met with other business students, and she suggested that they all come together and start gathering as a group.  

 Perren invited Josefina Espino and Chris Santos to join, and they all bonded instantly. They met twice a month, usually at the campus Starbucks, and talked about how they pictured their lives after college.  

 The mentor group evolved into CoBA’s Latino Business Student Association, with Perren serving as the faculty adviser for seven years. Espino remembers when Ortiz revealed to the group that she was interested in entrepreneurship and wanted to start an ice cream business. Ortiz and Espino even used her business idea for a research project in a marketing class taught by professor Kristin Stewart.  

 Starting a path to entrepreneurship was exciting, but also nerve-racking for Ortiz. She didn’t know how she would balance being a student and mother while quitting her job as a marketing coordinator at Pacific Records, Inc. in San Diego.  

 “I remember one of the most important conversations I had to have with Juliana was about being generous to herself,” Perren said. “She, of course, had so much to offer, and one of the most difficult decisions she had to make was investing in herself. She is such a generous and loyal person. It felt difficult to let go of some of her commitments and give back to herself.”  

 Now, as an entrepreneur, Ortiz shows her generosity in the creative ways she connects with her customers and employees. When a customer comes into Cali Cream and talks about an ice cream flavor that holds significance for them, Ortiz goes out of her way to make it.  

 “Ice cream is such an emotional product,” Ortiz said. “We've made special request ice cream orders, because maybe it's a birthday present or it’s their parents' favorite. It’s so cool because I get to be the decision-maker. I can say yes or no, but if someone were to ask any other ice cream company, the answer is always going to be no. But my goal is to always make people happy.” 

 One of the most rewarding parts of Ortiz’s job is supporting her employees through college. It’s her way of giving back. A photo wall in the Encinitas location displays the logos of the colleges that her employees are attending. Ortiz even established a rule that if an employee performs well during the summer, they are guaranteed a job when they come home from college.  

 “I remember going to Cali Cream and seeing that the tip jar said ‘college fund’ on it,” Perren said. “It’s really awesome to see how college is built into the company culture. It's great when you see our alumni not only make a difference in their own life, but also how she can inspire and create social mobility in her family and in our community.”  

Juliana Ortiz 

Major at CSUSM: Business marketing  

Graduation year: 2018 

Company: Cali Cream 

Website: calicreamicecream.com 

Founded: 2016 

Number of employees: 35-80 (depending on the season) 

Talking Business With Juliana Ortiz

What’s the best advice you received about starting a business? 

Do what feels right for you and don’t be afraid to take risks. Not every risk is going to be successful, but there's certain risks that are very rewarding. I think if you do your work and research time, then it minimizes the damage.  

What advice would you give budding entrepreneurs? 

I would say go for it. I think you never want to regret not making a decision because of the fear of failure.  

What’s the greatest challenge in starting your own business? 

The greatest challenge for me was trying to understand the process for getting health permits. 

Knowing what you know now, is there anything you would have done differently? 

For us, it's a weather-based ice business. I have to look at weather for the next week and for the next couple of days to see how it impacts our business. That’s something that most people don't think about.  

I would also make sure to work with a team and ensure that if there's a new product, we have to educate them. If your team's not good and if they're not educated, it falls back on you. They also don't want to be put in a position where they don't know how to communicate to their guests. 

What are the qualities of a good entrepreneur? 

With changes in just about anything, whether it’s regulation or COVID, you have to be able to adapt and you have to be able to transition. 

Media Contact

Bri Phillips, Communications Specialist

bphillips@csusm.edu

There are many days when you feel like you're never good enough, never enough for the population that you’re around that particular day. 

Some days, I'm not Native enough because I'm not fully Native or because I don't speak my Native language. Other days, I’m not as Mexican as others if I’m not speaking Spanish consistently. Or it could be my lack of a certain tattoo to represent my Pacific Islander heritage. 

I’ve learned over time to switch between those identities – usually without even thinking about it – depending on the circle of people I’m with in that moment. It’s like a light switch that I can turn on and off as needed. 

But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Emphasizing one of my identities over the others can also bring about self-doubt and sadness because I’m doing it to be accepted by the person or group I’m with in that moment. 

I’m grateful that my time at Cal State San Marcos has helped me navigate those challenges. 

My journey in higher education been a windy road, from starting at the University of Hawaii-Manoa as a marine biology major to earning three associate degrees at Grossmont College to now finishing my bachelor’s in psychological science this spring at CSUSM. 

It’s certainly not a traditional path, and there were many days that I worried about not living up to some imaginary timeline of how long it was supposed to take me to get my degree.  

Today, I can appreciate an untraditional journey that has taken six years to complete. And I’m especially thankful that this path led me to CSUSM. It’s here that I reconnected with my American Indian heritage while also having the opportunity to fully appreciate and explore my Guamanian and Mexican identities. 

I am a descendant of Navajo Nation, and my clan spans the four corners of Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico and Utah. Most of my family lives in Arizona, including half on the reservation. I spent much of my childhood growing up in Arizona near my Native family. But I lost touch with much of that part of my identity as a teenager when we moved to San Diego. Even though Southern California is home to a significant Native population, it’s always different when you’re coming from a different place and not used to the customs or practices. 

While different tribes have many shared experiences, I'm also cognizant of being a guest here because this is not my traditional homeland. There’s a responsibility to show respect for where you are, respect for the land and knowing that this isn't mine personally or my ancestors’. It's about finding the proper balance. 

That’s something I’ve strived to do at CSUSM. When I came here, I didn’t even know the university offered an American Indian studies major. My first American Indian studies course came when I saw it being offered to fulfill an upper division general education requirement. I was fortunate that my professor, Lara Aase, encouraged me to visit the California Indian Culture and Sovereignty Center on campus. That led me to meeting Joely Proudfit, the center’s director and the department chair of American Indian studies, and learning about the American Indian Student Alliance (AISA). 

I’ve had the privilege over the past year of serving as president of AISA, which was honored by CSUSM’s Student Leadership & Involvement Center as the Student Organization of the Year for 2021-22. I also joined Associated Students, Inc., as the representative for diversity and inclusion. In this role, I’ve worked to ease racial tensions and create a space where dialogue and conversation can occur.  

It has been rewarding to see so many different organizations, both cultural and religious, come together. We know that we won’t resolve every issue or problem, but acknowledging that we see one another and recognize one another is a step in the right direction. We try to focus on how we can help and uplift each other. 

My multiculturalism has been a tremendous asset in this work. It’s allowed me to be an ally for so many groups on campus. As AISA president, I’ve encouraged members of our organization to embrace and learn about other cultural and religious groups on campus. And doing so doesn’t invalidate our identity, it’s simply making space for others to also be recognized and seen, something that so many groups are fighting for on campus. 

One of the biggest opportunities we have is to continue fostering an environment where all groups have space to grow and be recognized. 

It’s something that’s a big part of where I am at now, too, as a person. I’ve learned through my higher education journey the importance of communicating your thoughts because, ultimately, we’re all trying to advocate for ourselves. And that’s an important lesson for everyone, because if you don't advocate for yourself, no one else is going to do it for you.  

Self-advocacy is a skill that takes practice, to be sure. But once learned, it allows you to better express your concerns, helps people hear you in a non-adversarial way and makes them more inclined to listen. And that's what will bring about that change that we all want to see. 

Media Contact

Eric Breier, Public Affairs Specialist

ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

Gonzales referred to these regular meetups as her “counseling sessions” because Rivera-Lacey always shared sound advice. The two friends would chat over a cup of coffee and, if they were lucky and had enough money, share a piece of pie. 

When Gonzales was struggling, Rivera-Lacey would ask, “On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being world poverty, where does this problem fall?”  

Gonzales would typically respond with a low number on the scale, but the exercise helped her see her problems from a different perspective.  

“It taught me to stop sweating the small stuff,” said Gonzales, who is now retired from the San Diego County Office of Education. “That was one of her biggest powers, because now I share it with my own kids and I've shared it with other students. And I've heard people give it back and tell me the same thing. She always had that optimism of looking ahead.” 

That optimism continues to this day as Rivera-Lacey has grown from poverty in childhood to earning a Ph.D. and today serving as the first Latina superintendent/president of Palomar College. It was that ability to remain optimistic during challenging times that helped her become the first in her family to graduate from college when she received a bachelor’s degree in liberal studies at Cal State San Marcos. 

It seems Rivera-Lacey’s parents knew she had a bright future from the moment they named her. 

"My mom really wanted me to have aspirations and picked the highest thing in the sky,” Rivera-Lacey said. “That's why she named me Star.” 

Money was always tight for Rivera-Lacey as a child growing up in Oceanside. Her parents immigrated from El Salvador before she was born, and they always stressed the importance of a college degree to allow her to have a promising career and future. 

With her parents’ encouragement, Rivera-Lacey cultivated a passion for learning from a young age. She saw how they worked to improve their English by taking ESL classes at Palomar. Sometimes they even took Rivera-Lacey with them. Little could they have imagined that, almost four decades later, she would return to lead that very college. 

But Rivera-Lacey’s path to becoming a higher education professional wasn’t an easy one.  

Just as she was about to graduate from El Camino High School, she learned she was one class short. Her counselor recommended taking a physical education class at MiraCosta College to get the extra credits she needed to graduate on time. 

Rivera-Lacey signed up for a hip-hop dance course, but getting to class was always a challenge. She was constantly searching for a ride or scavenging for gas money to make it to MiraCosta.  

But once there, Rivera-Lacey was introduced to Extended Opportunity Programs and Services, or EOPS, which provides access to financial assistance and support services for low-income students. The program counselors reassured Rivera-Lacey that she could have a future pursuing a college education after she graduated from high school.  

Rivera-Lacey gathered a strong support system at MiraCosta. When she wasn’t sure how to navigate the complex college system, the counselors helped her every step of the way. She also had the endless encouragement of her parents. And when she met Gonzales, they formed a quick bond because they understood each other's struggles as first-generation college students. 

“I had a family, and she was single. But for some reason, when we met, we clicked really well,” Gonzales said. “We were both struggling financially. She had a car that she named Herman, and I had a truck. Sometimes Herman worked, and sometimes my truck worked. But my car had a hole at the bottom, and Star was always afraid that she would fall through when it was my turn to drive.” 

Car troubles weren’t the only obstacle. Rivera-Lacey was juggling her academic pursuits while working full-time to make ends meet. Sometimes that meant a second job. But Rivera-Lacey remembers the relief she felt when EOPS helped ease the expenses of her classes, including a grant to help pay for books. 

While trying to balance work and school, Rivera-Lacey needed five years to obtain enough credits to transfer to a four-year university. But MiraCosta’s EOPS counselors never wavered in their support. If she needed to take a semester off to focus on work, they would welcome her back every time with open arms.  

“There was no judgment,” Rivera-Lacey said. “They offered me complete acceptance, which made all the difference in the world. I never had to feel embarrassed, and that's so special.” 

Rivera-Lacey continued to receive that type of support when she transferred to CSUSM. She was also grateful to land an on-campus job. After working in retail throughout her time at MiraCosta and constantly battling to get the work schedule she needed to attend classes, it was a relief to be working on a college campus. 

“I have had a million careers,” Rivera-Lacey said. “But one of the best things that happened when I was at CSUSM is that I worked in a department that used to be called Student Affirmative Action and Outreach.”  

This job was nothing like the ones Rivera-Lacey had before. She would visit students from local elementary and high schools and get them excited about a future in higher education.  

Elementary school kids also visited CSUSM. Rivera-Lacey remembers the paper cutouts of graduation caps for kids to try on and fake checks to take to the bookstore to simulate the financial aid process. 

“CSUSM was so forward-thinking by doing that kind of community outreach,” Rivera-Lacey said. “I'm not surprised at all to see the success that Cal State has now. They've been investing in the community for so many years.” 

While Rivera-Lacey was helping other students get enthused about the possibility of attending college, she came to a realization as she watched people from similar backgrounds succeed in their jobs at CSUSM – she needed to continue her higher education journey and pursue a career in the field. 

Rivera-Lacey worked alongside her friend Sabrina Sanders in the Student Affirmative Action and Outreach program. Sanders, who received a bachelor’s and master’s from CSUSM, also decided to pursue a career in higher ed because she and Rivera-Lacey saw themselves in the students they were serving and the impact of reaching underserved communities.  

“The co-curricular experience as student assistants prepared and inspired us to our careers in higher education,” said Sanders, who also earned a doctorate from Alliant International University and is now the director of the Toro Reengagement Program at California State University Dominguez Hills. “As a first-generation Latina, Rivera-Lacey had an impact on the elementary, high school and community college students that was powerful. Her college journey, experiences and representation continue to inspire and exemplify the values and opportunities that education provides and her parents instilled in her. Promoting access, equity and student success is more than a job for President Rivera-Lacey – it’s a calling.” 

When Rivera-Lacey received her bachelor’s in liberal studies in 1995, it was a life-changing moment for her parents to watch the first person in their family graduate from college.  

“I think when you experience poverty and with every semester that I got under my belt, it was like one step closer to freedom,” Rivera-Lacey said.  

Rivera-Lacey saw how her financial situation started to improve after earning her bachelor’s, but there were still challenges. When she was pursuing a master’s in counseling at San Diego State University, Rivera-Lacey remembers driving to take her final knowing she wouldn’t have enough gas to get home nor the money to fill her tank.  

“I remember clearly walking on the freeway,” she said. “I do not recommend that anybody get on the freeway, but one of my friends came and rescued me. And to this day, it is one of the stories that we laugh about, right? 

“There are going to be obstacles in the way, doors that close, but there's always a window that's open. If you just put one foot forward, the road will rise to meet. There are so many people who are in education that love what they do and believe in students. You'll find the help.” 

Rivera-Lacey never let any of the obstacles she faced get in the way of her end goal. She received her master's in counseling at SDSU in 1997 and eventually returned to school to get her Ph.D. in education from Claremont Graduate University in 2016.  

Rivera-Lacey knew she wanted to center her career around what she loved: student success. And she stayed with her passion for higher education for 17 years, which led her to become the superintendent/president of Palomar College in 2021.  

Just as when she was a child, Rivera-Lacey still has the same passion for continuing to grow and learn – and she’s in a position to inspire others to do the same as she works to build on Palomar’s success.  

Rivera-Lacey knows firsthand the struggles that so many students face, and she serves as a shining example to those who may never have seen a Latina college president.  

“I'm very, very surprised at people's reaction,” Rivera-Lacey said. “I remember during commencement, a student wanted to hug me because they’ve never seen a Latina president. And another student thanked me because their parents were able to understand the ‘Superintendent/President’s Welcome’ because we did it both in English and Spanish, which shows that representation does matter. 

“I tell people all the time, ‘I might be the first Latina Palomar superintendent/president, but I won't be the last.’ ” 

Media Contact

Eric Breier, Public Affairs Specialist

ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

Foronda failed multiple classes during his first year at Cal State San Marcos, landing on academic probation with a 0.6 grade-point average during the spring of his freshman year and contemplating dropping out of school.

But Foronda is nothing if not resilient, and his GPA climbed to 3.3 by the time he graduated in 2018 with degrees in criminology and justice studies and sociology.

Today, Foronda uses his experiences as an undergraduate to help a new generation of CSUSM first-year students in his role as a student success coach for the burgeoning Office of Success Coaching.

“Students feel like it’s the end of the world when their grades are not on point,” Foronda said. “But I tell students that every setback leads to a bigger comeback.”

The Office of Success Coaching is transforming the way CSUSM serves first-year students, providing personalized support services to ensure that newly admitted students thrive. Launched during the pandemic, the program already has garnered national attention for its innovative approach, with CSUSM receiving the 2021 American Association of State Colleges and Universities (AASCU) Excellence and Innovation Award for Student Success.

AASCU, which includes nearly 400 state-supported colleges and universities throughout the country, honored the Office of Success Coaching for its outstanding results and potential to influence and serve as a model for other institutions.

“There's so much pressure and students are trying to be so many things to so many people,” said Valita Jones, the office’s founding director. 
“The Office of Success Coaching gives them a pathway.”

The concept and framework for what would become the Office of Success Coaching was in place before the pandemic, with Jones – then serving as CSUSM’s director for recruitment and outreach – using grant funds to acclimate first-year students to college life. But the onset of COVID-19 accelerated plans and helped shape the program.

Jones met with CSUSM President Ellen Neufeldt in the early days of the pandemic to share details about the onboarding program she was overseeing. And Neufeldt took the opportunity to tell Jones about the success coaching program at Old Dominion University, where Neufeldt served as vice president for Student Engagement and Enrollment Services before coming to CSUSM in 2019. Neufeldt wanted to bring a similar program to CSUSM and saw opportunity in the work that had already been started.

As the Office of Success Coaching was formally launched, one of the first moves was bringing Jay Franklin, the director of recruitment and customer relationship management administrator for Extended Learning, aboard as the program’s associate director – and it didn’t take much convincing to get him to join the effort.

“It was a dream,” Franklin said. “I said, ‘This is a job? You're going to pay me to do something that I have always dreamed about doing?’ I don't even call it a job. This is a purpose.

“We’re not just there academically for students; it's personal relationship-building. And the end goal of any degree at Cal State San Marcos is not just the degree, it’s to help them understand how to network and connect.”

With some departments and programs unable to provide normal offerings early in the pandemic, nearly two dozen employees – including staff from athletics, campus recreation and events, among others – were redeployed to help launch the Office of Success Coaching. Sherri Watson, the executive director for Old Dominion’s Career Development Services and Coaching, was brought on as a consultant to train CSUSM’s success coaches and prepare them to work with students.

While some of the original student success coaches have returned to their former roles, the remaining team (which now includes graduate interns) works in a similar manner to a life coach. They start at the beginning of the student life cycle and aim to solidify a structured pathway for students to reach their end goal, which is to both earn their degree and pivot into a career. That includes helping students set goals, reminding them about important deadlines, and having general conversations about aspirations.

Those conversations proved invaluable for Priscilla Al-Rayes, a criminology and justice studies student. Foronda was assigned as her success coach, and his persistent emails eventually prompted Al-Rayes to make an appointment. Their discussions covered everything from academics to time management to life skills. When Al-Rayes asked Foronda for his thoughts about joining CSUSM’s Orientation Team, which assists with campus tours and orientation sessions for new students, Foronda was able to share his own experiences as an O-Team member and even helped prep Al-Rayes for the interview.

“No one knows what college is going to be like until you’re actually in college,” Al-Rayes said. “Your success coach is here to push you through that and get you to where you need to go.

“I’m someone who needs that personal experience to understand something, and having a coach who has that personal experience to share is probably the best thing about the Office of Success Coaching. He’s already been through it all and I’m just starting, so I know almost exactly what to expect by talking to him. That really has eased my anxiety when applying to things and going to events and things like that.”

Foronda takes pride in sharing with his students how he practices what he preaches. When he encourages students like Al-Rayes to build connections with professors and staff, he also tells them how the relationships he developed as a CSUSM student led to recommendations from people like Annie Macias, executive director of Associated Students, Inc., and Floyd Lai, director of the Cross-Cultural Center. Now Foronda proudly calls them colleagues.

It’s not difficult for Foronda to relate to the students he mentors. Sure, he’s only a few years removed from receiving his bachelor’s, but he too was navigating school, work and family during the pandemic like so many of them. In May 2021, he received his master’s in counseling from San Diego State.

“When I graduated, I sent all my students a video and said, ‘Hey, this is going to be you in a few years.’ I wanted to let them know that if I can do it during the pandemic, I know they can, too.

“One thing I’ve learned: It takes a village to raise a child, but it takes a university to graduate a student.”

Media Contact

Eric Breier, Public Affairs Specialist

ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

But that all changed when I was in second grade and a car accident altered the trajectory of our lives. Today, almost 14 years after that accident, I still feel the reverberations as I navigate the challenges of being a low-income student while working toward becoming the first person in my family to earn a college degree. 

The day of our car accident was supposed to be a special day. My sister, Ashley, was just a couple of months old, and we were venturing beyond routine errands for the first time since she was born to go apple picking about an hour away from our Temecula home. 

Despite doing my best not to fall asleep during the drive, I woke up to our vehicle flipping over after being struck, I later learned, by a hit-and-run driver. Our car flipped multiple times on the freeway, and Ashley’s car seat buckle came undone. My first instinct was to try to hold her car seat down. Ashley escaped with minor scratches while my mom and I just had some bruises. 

My dad wasn’t as lucky. He broke his neck and was in a coma for several days. I remember him lying in a hospital bed, not knowing if he would survive. 

My dad was our sole financial provider, and he was unable to work during the lengthy recovery process. The mounting medical bills and expenses eventually forced my parents to file for bankruptcy. 

The accident also took an emotional toll. My parents separated not long afterward. Though it has been over a decade since they split, they continue to live under the same roof leading separate lives because of our financial circumstances. 

We didn’t have money for after-school or extracurricular activities, nor many opportunities to explore interests or passions. And college was never a topic of discussion. No one in my family has ever finished college, and my parents were largely indifferent, leaving me to determine my own path. 

As a high school senior, I had difficulty envisioning my future. I watched my peers embrace their excitement about getting accepted into prestigious universities while I was still figuring out the application process. I was unfamiliar with financial aid and how it could help pay for college. It seemed like my classmates had their lives figured out while I was struggling just to complete my FAFSA, the federal form used to determine financial aid eligibility. 

It has always been an unspoken rule in my family never to talk about money or finances because it always ends in a heated argument. I had to scavenge through my parents’ taxes to try to fill out the FAFSA on my own. When I finally built up the courage to ask my dad for help, it was hard for him to understand the significance of the application. He didn’t want to share personal financial information and didn’t grasp that completing the FAFSA was what would make attending college financially feasible. 

Filling out the FAFSA is still an emotional process every year, and one that I have to explain to my dad each time. But our financial status means that I qualify for a Pell Grant, which helps me pay for college. Learning that I was eligible for a Pell Grant was such a relief. Not only does it mean I can avoid potentially crippling loans, but it helps my parents focus on their needs without worrying about college expenses. 

After high school, I enrolled at Palomar College and joined TRIO SSS, an organization that advises low-income and first-generation students to encourage academic success. It was inspiring to be surrounded by successful students who come from similar backgrounds. I was excited to learn about the help TRIO SSS provides for first-generation college students like myself, and it showed me that I could achieve my goals regardless of my background. 

I was grateful to continue being part of TRIO SSS after completing my associate degree in communication at Palomar and transferring to Cal State San Marcos last fall. 

At CSUSM, I have received overwhelming support, which has helped me further my education and figure out my career path. The university emphasizes hands-on learning, and I have had the opportunity to work as a writer in the University Communications office where I’m gaining valuable skills and guidance as I look toward a career in communications after I graduate in May 2023. 

CSUSM has opened the door for me to feel more confident about my future. I am building a strong portfolio for future employers, and the positive work environment in University Communications has encouraged career exploration and connections to set me up for success. 

During my first semester at CSUSM last fall, I juggled two jobs to ease the financial burden on my family while trying to balance a full course load. It wasn’t easy, but I’m proud of achieving straight A’s in my first semester at the university, and having a strong support system at CSUSM was an important part of making that happen. 

After completing my bachelor’s degree, I’m looking forward to finding a job that allows me to use the written communication skills that I am developing through my work in University Communications. 

I still dread filling out the FAFSA, and it’s an ongoing challenge to navigate the complexities of the higher education system. But I know that all of the difficulties will be worth it. Not only because I’ll be the first in my family to earn a college degree, but also because I’ll be able to help my sister forge an easier path to college and financial independence. I strive each day to set a positive example for Ashley. I encourage her to explore her passions now so she will have more direction than I did when she heads to college in four years. 

The car accident that my family survived 14 years ago changed many aspects of my life, but I’m able to look to the future with optimism. I’ve learned valuable lessons about determination and perseverance, lessons that have helped me develop a strong motivation to redirect my path. 

Media Contact

Eric Breier, Public Affairs Specialist

ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

But it’s safe to say Reese never once imagined that all those hours spent outdoors would lead to what has become his passion.

“I remember there was one farm still in my neighborhood growing up that had cows and little sheep and chickens,” Reese said, “but I never thought I was going to be farming growing up. It just kind of happened after I was 30.”

Today, Reese is a regenerative farmer working to fight injustices in the food system by growing healthy produce for people who otherwise might not have access.

Reese is a co-founder of Encinitas-based nonprofit Sea + Soil, which aims to “reconnect and regenerate ecosystems and community.” Among the programs under the Sea + Soil umbrella is 1000 Tiny Farms, which Reese pioneered to help explore how small patches of land could have a positive social, environmental and economic impact.

“We focus a lot on the nutrient density and nutritional value of the produce,” Reese said. “If we can grow food without a need for heavy chemical inputs, then the soil will be better, therefore the plants are better, therefore the humans are better. It's kind of like a slogan that many people have probably heard before – food as medicine.”

Reese’s interest in healthy food began while he was working at Stone Brewing in Escondido. He ate a salad there that proved life-changing.

“I never felt so good after eating a salad,” he said. “It was noticeably energizing. And they sourced from a local farm in Escondido at the time. It was just so fresh. When I played soccer at Cal State San Marcos, I noticed that when I was eating fresher vegetables, I just felt good and I had more energy. Before that it was mostly meat and carbs. When I started incorporating fresh veggies, it was a game-changer.”

Contributing to the greater good is part of Reese’s DNA, and he spent time working in solar energy and water reclamation before focusing his efforts on farming. He worked with the Worldwide Opportunities on Organic Farms, which helps “build a global community conscious of ecological farming and sustainability practices.”

While some may be surprised to learn that Reese earned his degree in business administration with an emphasis in marketing, he says his CSUSM education plays a role in his work every day, from manufacturing to distribution to marketing. In fact, Reese hopes to partner with his alma mater on many aspects of farming. He has thriving farms in Cardiff and Valley Center that can always use volunteers to assist with the physical aspects, but he said there also is a need for expertise with the scientific aspects of farming, including soil testing, identifying biological organisms in the soil, plant tissue analysis, and more.

“I think it’s important to know where your food comes from,” Reese said. “Don’t be fooled by labeling. There’s a lot of smoke and mirrors, and it helps to know where your food comes from.”

Media Contact

Eric Breier, Public Affairs Specialist

ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

Cano and Salazar are developing a Tijuana-based company, SinerLab, that will introduce an innovative online sharing platform for reagents, equipment and services to address the deficit of laboratory resources faced by many scientists in Mexico. This creative solution will both reduce costs and increase availability of the critical supplies needed for research and development.

“José and I talk about how we develop science in the United States and how there is a huge gap in research and development in Mexico,” Salazar said. “There are good institutions in Mexico, but they are lacking in technology.”

Cano and Salazar each launched their careers in Mexico after earning their undergraduate degrees — Cano in medicinal and pharmaceutical chemistry and Salazar in agricultural mechanical engineering. Their paths didn’t cross until after both had moved to the United States and enrolled in the Master of Biotechnology: A Professional Science Master’s Degree (MBt) at Cal State San Marcos.

For his capstone project, Cano was working on a nonprofit business plan to match San Diego biotech companies that could donate used equipment with researchers in Mexico who need access to equipment. Realizing ultimately that this plan was not viable — import/export procedures alone were prohibitive — he quickly pivoted to a for-profit model based in Mexico with a shared online network of resources that scientists could either offer or access.

“The purpose is to connect researchers within Mexico to help them make better use of the resources that are already in the country,” Cano said. “That will facilitate research and make it less expensive.”

Cano’s capstone presentation caught the attention of many in the room.

“José is committed to doing the right thing and serving people in need,” said Betsy Read, a founder of the MBt program and CSUSM professor of biological sciences. “One of his committee members, the CEO of a large organization in San Diego, was so impressed with what José was proposing that he asked if José was planning to move it forward.”

That’s where Salazar came in. José recruited Salazar, who was in the cohort just behind him, and Salazar developed the new business plan for the online sharing company as his capstone project. The model, SinerLab, is going into pilot testing by the two graduates, who are now business partners. Both also hold full-time jobs — Salazar as a process development engineer for Illumina and Cano as a stem cell researcher for Fate Therapeutics.

To move their business idea from page to lab, Cano and Salazar are working with The Founder Institute, a Silicon Valley startup accelerator that helps entrepreneurs through the early phases of their business creation.

“José and Edgar are driven to help bring more science capability to Mexico and developing countries to improve the health and welfare of the people there,” said Al Kern, an MBt program founder and adviser for the SinerLab project.

“When I talked to Edgar about working on the project as part of the master’s program, I told him I didn’t want it to stop there,” Cano said. “I think this is a really good idea and I want to make it real because I think we can make science more affordable and help a lot of researchers get faster results.” 

Media Contact

Eric Breier, Public Affairs Specialist

ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

Lombardi adeptly switches positions without skipping a beat, able to start at catcher in the opening game of a doubleheader before moving to shortstop for the finale. She was one of the team’s top hitters as a freshman during the abbreviated 2020 season, and picked right up as a key contributor in 2022 after the 2021 season was canceled due to the pandemic. And she has arm strength that led one of the university’s baseball coaches to wonder aloud during a scrimmage if Lombardi can pitch – and he didn’t mean for the softball team.

“Most females do not throw a ball overhand like she does,” Ewing said. “If you come to a softball game and you watch everyone play catch and then you watch Gianna pick up a ball and throw it, you don't even need any sports knowledge to know it’s a whole different level.”

For the record, Ewing made it clear to the baseball coaches that Lombardi wasn’t going anywhere. But Lombardi’s value to the team goes beyond her considerable athletic ability.

“You get in a room with her, and she just fills it in a positive way,” Ewing said. “She’s funny and charismatic. When new people come in and they're around our softball program and they see that she can be who she is, they know they can be who they are.”

Lombardi’s infectious personality and approach to life harken to her father, Phil. The pandemic has taken a toll in so many ways, but none more difficult for Lombardi than losing her father in May 2021 to complications from glioblastoma, an aggressive form of brain cancer. Most people diagnosed with glioblastoma die of the disease within 12-18 months. Phil’s death came only seven months after his diagnosis.

But the lessons Lombardi learned from her father continue to resonate.

“He taught me to be proud of myself, but also to be humble,” Lombardi said. “But I think the biggest thing he ever taught me was he would always say, ‘Don’t fear failure.’ Especially in a game like softball, you fail more than you succeed when you’re hitting. I just always kept that with me.”

It was something Phil knew firsthand from his days as a major league baseball player. A third-round draft pick of the New York Yankees in 1981, Phil made his major league debut with them five years later and spent parts of three seasons in the big leagues (including one with the New York Mets) before nagging injuries led to an early retirement before the 1990 season.

Phil coached Lombardi’s older sisters, Lauren and Julia, in softball, and both went on to play for Long Beach State. Lombardi flirted for a short time with the idea of trying something different than her sisters, but quickly realized it was more fun playing softball and benefiting from the experience and knowledge of her father and sisters.

Lombardi never had a chance to see her father play professional baseball – she was born more than a decade after he retired – but knew about his career growing up, even if she didn’t always realize when he was pulling her leg.

“I didn’t really know much about the game when I was younger, and he would joke, ‘I used to play with Jackie Robinson.’ And I thought he was serious,” Lombardi said of her father’s reference to the iconic Hall of Famer who broke baseball’s color barrier in 1947 – four decades before Phil made his major league debut.

“But he didn’t bring up his career around other people. He was really humble about things.”

Playing catcher was a natural choice for Lombardi. After all, it was Phil’s primary position during his career. And while nepotism may be an issue on some youth softball teams, having her father as a coach didn’t come with any special favors for Lombardi. Phil even insisted on Lombardi calling him “Coach Phil” instead of dad when they were anywhere near the softball field to avoid any thoughts of favoritism.

Of course, with Lombardi’s work ethic and ability, it didn’t matter if it was her dad or a complete stranger coaching – she was going to be in the lineup. Lombardi thrived at West Ranch High School in Valencia and on travel ball teams. One of her frequent adversaries was Zoe Ballen, who played at Thousand Oaks High School about 40 miles away and was also a foe in travel ball. They are teammates at CSUSM now, but Ballen still remembers being in awe of Lombardi’s boundless energy and the difficulties she presented opponents.

“When I came to CSUSM, I was kind of nervous to get to know her,” said Ballen, a pitcher who frequently throws to Lombardi behind the plate. “But she just kind of exceeded my expectations of the kind of person that she is and the kind of player that she is.

“She's great at communicating with all of our pitchers and has a great relationship with everyone on the team. I don't think I've ever heard a negative thing come out of her mouth. She’s just an overall great person and player.”

Lombardi started all 19 games in 2020 before the pandemic brought a premature end to the season and completely wiped out the 2021 slate. But she gave a glimpse of what she’s capable of in those limited games, batting .356 and impressing Ewing and teammates with her softball acumen.

“Gianna is just someone who comes in and plays and there are no norms; she's rewriting the norms,” Ewing said. “If I asked Gianna to go play third base, she’d go play third base. If I told her go into left field, she'd go into left field. She will go do anything you ask her to do. She'd run through a brick wall for anybody.”

Ewing may have as many as three more seasons with Lombardi after this. The NCAA adjusted its rules on playing eligibility because of the pandemic. So while Lombardi has completed her third year at CSUSM as a biology student, she will still be a sophomore next season in her softball eligibility.

All of Ewing’s players faced an adjustment this year as they completed their first full season in three years, but Lombardi had the added weight of playing her first season without her dad.

Phil was a familiar face at games in 2020, sometimes observing from beyond the center field fence and other times sitting right behind home plate where he could offer encouragement (and occasionally critiques) during games. But Lombardi is persevering, just as her dad would want.

“We had our offseason games during the fall, and I was kind of crying on the way to my first game,” she said. “It was my first game without my dad being there. It was kind of sad, but I always do look on the positive side of it, and now it's like I’m playing for him more than playing without him.”

Media Contact

Eric Breier, Public Affairs Specialist

ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

Even on days when depression hit her hardest, she would leave Academic Hall with tears in her eyes, put on sunglasses and walk over to the coffee cart for a pick-me-up – in the form of both a caffeinated drink and pleasant conversation with welcoming faces, owners Tim and Sandra Sabbatini.

“That cup of coffee along with Tim and Sandy’s kindness got me through my hard days,” said Kummer, a 2010 alumna who now works at her alma mater as the coordinator of the TRIO Upward Bound program.

Shannon Nolan-Arañez was a daily Campus Coffee customer when her life was rocked by the sudden death of both her parents. Overnight, she became the head of her household and had to support her siblings financially, making that coffee pit stop every morning feel like a frivolous luxury. After the Sabbatinis learned of her grief, they wrote Nolan-Arañez a sympathy card and occasionally covered the cost of her coffee or treat.

“I love them and cannot thank them enough for being a shining light of love on campus,” said Nolan-Arañez, the coordinator of student involvement for Student Life & Leadership.

On her first day as a CSUSM employee three years ago, Christine Lee was talking about being new with a colleague in line, and a member of the Campus Coffee crew overheard her conversation. When she picked up her latte, she discovered cinnamon in the shape of a Cougar paw floating on the surface.

“It’s one of the lasting memories I have from my first day of work,” said Lee, the outreach and communication liaison for Community Engagement.

It was August 2004, only five days before the start of the school year, when Tim and Sandra Sabbatini opened Campus Coffee as the university’s only stand-alone business, a fresh new iteration of the coffee stand that had carved out a rather modest existence in the spot just outside Science Hall I. Fifteen years later, the married couple from Michigan has established a legacy that goes far beyond brewing the best chai latte in North County, a subject about which you will encounter little debate around CSUSM.

Campus Coffee has become the beating heart of mornings (and early afternoons, for true java junkies) at the university. It’s a place where if they don’t know your name, they know your usual order, and more often than not they know both. It’s a place where your coffee comes with a generous side order of friendly banter (bonus points if you like hockey) and classic rock ‘n’ roll. It’s a place that offers the ultimate mom-and-pop contrast to the pumpkin-latte-peddling corporate behemoth that resides just down the stairs – and that, as a result, engenders tremendous loyalty from its longtime devotees.

“It’s a family-owned, family-operated, family-driven business,” said Todd Snedden, associate director of athletics. “And I think what comes across to the customer, to the campus community, is that we value you, you’re part of our family, come and see us again. It’s just personal. There’s a personal relationship there.”

The Sabbatinis came to CSUSM with the intention of weaving themselves and their coffee cart into the fabric of the campus, and they have done precisely that. Almost from the moment they set up shop, they became a sponsor of Cougars athletics, and today they are the longest continuous financial supporter of the department. It’s no coincidence that many athletes, coaches and athletic staff employees (like Snedden) frequently make the long trek up from the Clarke Field House or The Sports Center, bypassing two other coffee shops on the way.

Campus Coffee has thrown itself wholeheartedly into CSUSM’s sustainability efforts. It encourages customers to bring their own mugs (regardless of the size, you just get charged for a small), it sells silverware, and it no longer offers plastic bags or straws. Last summer, Campus Coffee became the first eatery in San Marcos to pledge to be an Ocean Friendly Restaurant, a Surfrider Foundation program through which restaurants can show their commitment to making sustainable choices for the ocean.

Campus Coffee also supports many other organizations and causes on and off campus, including CSUSM’s Clear the Air program marking the university as a smoke- and tobacco-free campus by distributing custom coffee sleeves every semester.

“We all help each other, support each other,” Sandra Sabbatini said. “That’s what this school is all about.”

Tim and Sandra both grew up in St. Clair Shores, Mich., a small town north of Detroit that borders Lake St. Clair. They met in a dance club when they were 16 and got married a few years later. They fell in love with California during a trip west for spring break in high school and moved here in their mid-20s, driving their “big old Cadillac” across the country.

They settled in Lake San Marcos, where they still live, and in 1992, Tim indulged his passions for coffee and business by opening a store in Carlsbad that he named It’s Coffee Time, located in the shopping center just west of Interstate 5 and south of Poinsettia Lane. For 12 years, it served as the neighborhood haunt of the surf-and-sea crowd.

“Everybody loved their shop,” said Eliza Bigham, a retired CSUSM human development professor who still lives in the area and used to frequent the café in the early 2000s. “It’s a beach community, and there’s a lot of people who do a lot of bike riding, dog walking. It’s nice to have a destination to go to where there’s a smiling face, a cup of coffee and a bowl for your dog.”

In 2004, It’s Coffee Time was the victim of an expansion by the Ralphs in the same strip mall, and the supermarket bought out Tim’s lease. In a quirk of fate, that was right when the person who owned the existing CSUSM coffee cart was seeking to sell. The Sabbatinis long had wanted to work on a college campus – Tim recalls taking a computer class at CSUSM with a friend “when the internet came out” – and they leaped at the opportunity.

“It was perfect timing,” Tim said. “We grabbed it up real quick.”

Sandra joined her husband in the venture after working for a dentist while Tim ran the store in Carlsbad. They scrambled to give the run-down coffee cart a makeover, buying new ice machines, coolers, an espresso maker, a credit card reader, a menu board.

One thing Tim took pains to keep from his prior shop was his roaster. Peerless Coffee is a nearly century-old family business from Oakland that has won numerous awards for the quality of its products.

“When we place our coffee order, we’ll place it in the morning, and it gets roasted that day and delivered the next day,” Sandra said. “That’s how fresh it is.”

Regulars seem to notice the difference.

“The coffee is way better than Starbucks,” said Lisa Carmosino, who works in the School of Health Sciences & Human Services.

Speaking of the “S” word, the Sabbatinis feel no rivalry with the Seattle java giant, which opened its franchise on campus just months before Campus Coffee in 2004.

“It never really bothered us, the Starbucks thing,” Tim said. “We have our little niche, and they have theirs. There’s room for everyone.”

If you’re wondering who the third member of the Campus Coffee team is, no, it’s not the Sabbatinis’ son (though, yes, they get that question a lot). Kyle Duran started off as an ardent, if not obsessive, fan of the cart when he was a student, constantly hanging out on a nearby bench and doing shots of espresso with his buddies. He became an employee during his final semester at CSUSM in 2010, never imagining that he would stick around after he graduated with a marketing degree.

But he has, and hasn’t regretted it for a second.

“I just love the environment here,” Duran said. “Tim and Sandy are the most amazing people in the world. They treat me like a son. And it’s so nice to work outside.”

Tim and Duran first bonded over their shared love of hockey, and they still “talk puck,” as Sandra puts it, constantly between themselves and with sports-inclined customers (“They could talk about hockey 24/7,” Sandra said with mild exasperation). The looseness of the vibe at Campus Coffee, even when the line is long and the Sabbatinis are swamped, is what many people find so appealing.

And they know what you’re thinking: How can someone work so long in such tight quarters with their spouse?

“We love it,” Tim said. “You can’t walk by without bumping back there, so you gotta really like each other. And we like each other a lot.”

When they’re not under the burnt orange awning, Tim and Sandra like to cook, play with their dog, Rico, and travel. Each August, they shut down their business for a month to visit their families in Michigan.

Asked what the next 15 years may hold for Campus Coffee, Tim said: “Listen to what the customers want and just keep going. Hopefully, be busier and busier. This is what I like to do, and we’re happy to be here.”

Not as happy as CSUSM is to have them here.

But for Waite, growing up in Kirkland, Wash., outside of Seattle, her anxiety was broader, deeper, more acute.

“From the time I was little, I’d have panic attacks, and they were about big-picture things,” said Waite, a Cal State San Marcos alumna. “I always felt this sense of urgency, this feeling that there’s so much that needs to be fixed. I knew that there was so much to do on this planet.”

Her upbringing surely fed that worldview. Waite was raised in a family of animal-loving environmentalists. If someone in their neighborhood cut down a tree, her mother would plant at least one to replace it. Her father is an avid composter who abhors waste of any kind. She and her three siblings grew up amid dogs, cats, rabbits, turtles, even goats.

And the Waites had a little plot of land in the backyard for growing fruits and vegetables. Decades later, Jessica has another plot in mind, one she hopes will sprout into something on a grand, even culture-shifting scale.

Now an Oceanside restauranteur and vegan activist, Waite is close to realizing her vision of a dining spot that is entirely plant-based and as close to zero waste as she can possibly manage. The concept, called The Plot, is scheduled to open in December at 1733 Coast Highway, about a block north of the other two restaurants that Waite owns with her husband, regionally renowned sushi chef Davin Waite.

“When we talk about our ‘why’ in life, mine is to minimize suffering on this planet,” Waite said. “Then there are the strategic objectives, like how am I going to get there? And that’s by bringing people closer to their food and showing the health benefits and taste benefits of a plant-based diet.”

Waite, who was a vegetarian by age 7 and has been a vegan for about 20 of her 36 years, considers The Plot to be the most idealistic restaurant she could conceive based on her strongly held convictions. Located in a 4,400-square-foot-building that used to be a sushi house and is being transformed at a cost of about $1.25 million (money that Waite herself raised), The Plot will offer a menu that will fulfill Davin’s vow to do “cool stuff with plants,” it will be supplied chiefly with food grown on area farms, and it will go to extremes to avoid sending material to the landfill.

The 20-year lease that Waite signed even comes with a small rental cottage with a big yard behind the restaurant where she plans to create an urban garden and host private events.

Davin Waite has long been known in local circles for his creative and boundary-pushing dishes, but with this venture he will subtract seafood and four-legged animals, both of which he employs at his other restaurants (animals to a much lesser extent). The Plot menu is still being finalized, but possible items include banana peel tacos, sloppy joes made with mushroom stems and walnuts, a Reuben with beets instead of corned beef, and a vegan twist on chicken and waffles.

“I wanted to do with Jessica a restaurant that is not a bunch of fake meats. There already are people doing that, and doing it well,” said Davin, who has been a chef for more than two decades. “I just really wanted to focus on plants. I mean, I eat pretty well. I’m probably a vegan who garnishes their food with meat. And doing what I do, I definitely think it’s important to have a plant-based restaurant where the chefs remember what meat tastes like.”

If The Plot succeeds as Jessica hopes, she envisions the large restaurant and kitchen acting as the anchor for a chain of similar plant-based outlets, starting in San Diego and Orange counties and spreading outward from there as demand dictates.

“We’re not looking at it as how we’re going to do this in one space,” she said. “It’s how we’re going to do this efficiently and to scale. If we’re going to change the world, we’ve got to do it big, right?”

The Plot is a natural extension of the pair of restaurants Waite already runs and the sustainability projects she has pursued with Davin for almost 10 years. In 2013, a year after she graduated from CSUSM with a degree in psychology, Jessica teamed up with Davin – whom she had worked with at The Fish Joint, a now-defunct Oceanside sushi bar – to open Wrench & Rodent Seabasstropub (the colorful name is an homage to the pubs of England, where Davin spent much of his childhood).

To call it a shoestring operation would be a vast understatement. The couple borrowed $700 to pay for fish on the first night, and Jessica used the last $300 in her bank account to buy restaurant necessities. Wrench & Rodent didn’t even have a street sign for well over a year. But the sushi spot gained a loyal following thanks to enthusiastic reviews on websites like Yelp and the vocal advocacy of Tommy Gomes, a prominent fishmonger from Catalina Offshore Products.

Less than a year into its existence, Wrench & Rodent broke through by being featured as one of the best restaurants in the county by Modern Luxury magazine, alongside such high-end places as Ironside Fish & Oyster and Juniper & Ivy, both in Little Italy.

“We didn’t have access to any kind of a kitchen. We had this little toaster oven to make scallops on,” Waite said. “We were always playing punk music. Just wildness in here. And new customers would be like, ‘What the heck is this?’ But the food is just so good. The food was an experience they couldn’t have anywhere else in San Diego.”

Waite had aspired to attend medical school as a student at CSUSM, and after she graduated, she took law school classes online for one quarter. At some point along the way, however, she decided that the restaurant business wasn’t just a dalliance to help support her husband’s dream, but rather her preferred career path as well. So to bolster her skills, she applied for and was accepted into the two-year MBA program at Pepperdine University.

As she pursued her master’s, Waite in 2016 opened a second restaurant, which happened to be in the same building as Wrench & Rodent (a taco shop vacated the space). Named The Whet Noodle, it’s a ramen joint that puts into practice Waite’s philosophy of byproduct utilization. For example, when fish comes in to Wrench & Rodent, the bones and skin and cartilage can be utilized to make broth for The Whet Noodle. Or fish that can be served raw for only three days at Wrench & Rodent can be grilled or smoked next door.

“That’s a huge part of what Davin does because these are all valuable resources,” Waite said. “You look at any other culture and you’re like, ‘Who is wasting this much, and why would you take something that could be incredible and throw it away because you’re lazy?’ ”

Unlike its neighbor, The Whet Noodle struggled to attract a clientele. Part of the problem was negative online reviews from diners expecting a traditional ramen experience. The restaurant’s website now contains a disclaimer – “We ask that you keep an open mind and a sense of humor” – and after Waite came close to abandoning the idea, she’s happy to report that it has found its niche as a local hangout.

But for all their spunky charm, neither Wrench & Rodent nor The Whet Noodle truly represent Waite in her full-throated zeal. The Plot does. She sprinkles PowerPoint presentations about the restaurant with phrases like “Feeding the evolution” and “Be the change, one bite at a time.” She tells the story of its mission so compellingly that she raised the bulk of the money for the renovation in only a few months. And she has only increased her activism in recent years, including becoming president of Berry Good Food, a foundation that supports a local and regenerative food system in San Diego and northern Baja California.

“It’s not necessarily trying to get everyone in the community to be strictly vegetarian or vegan, but just to have people make the transition and think, ‘Oh, maybe I don’t have to have meat for every meal,’ ” said Victoria Riesgo, who graduated from CSUSM last spring with a bachelor’s in psychology and worked at Wrench & Rodent for five years, rising to general manager. “We do have evidence showing that, as a culture, food systems like ours use a lot of resources and produce a lot of carbon emissions. So it’s like a small step in a societal change.”

Waite is a voracious reader who tends toward nonfiction about health and nutrition. At CSUSM, she was heavily influenced by “The China Study,” a 2005 book that reveals findings from the most comprehensive study ever undertaken of the relationship between diet and the risk of developing disease. One of her favorite recent discoveries is “Kiss the Ground: How the Food You Eat Can Reverse Climate Change, Heal Your Body & Ultimately Save Our World.”

Waite talks a lot about saving the world, though she admits that she does it in part to get a reaction (“I like people’s eyes to pop and look at me like, ‘Is she as crazy as she sounds?”). But she’s dead serious about incremental progress – about doing all she can to make plants cooler to eat, to reduce the suffering of animals, to curtail the damage that humans inflict on the planet.

“It’s about little steps,” Waite said. “I’m not going to sit here and say, ‘Oh, well, we’re gonna save the world. The world is gonna be fixed.’ It is very tongue in cheek, but it also is exactly what I am dedicated to doing for the rest of my life.”

It didn’t have much that was working, Mario Melendez (’96) learned as he began to consider purchasing the vehicle seven years ago. Melendez owned a taco catering business and had been thinking about adding a food truck to the mix. But this model, which had been languishing in a junkyard for years, wasn’t exactly ready to start cranking out street tacos.

Melendez, though, saw potential where most would have seen only decay. After buying the truck, having looked at only grainy internet photos of it, he flew from his home in Dana Point to Sacramento to claim his auction prize.

“Not only was it collecting rust, it was collecting everything – animals, rat poop. There was a hornet’s nest in there. It was horrible,” recalled Melendez, a 1996 graduate of Cal State San Marcos.

Melendez hired a mobile mechanic to get the rig running, then donned a hazmat suit – he jokes that he resembled Walter White of “Breaking Bad” fame – for the long ride back south. With speeds limited to as low as 40 mph and frequent stops for gas (the gauge didn’t function, after all), a drive that should have taken about seven hours was more than three times that.

These days, Melendez attracts stares on the freeway for a different reason. His idea for a taco truck soon evolved, and now he’s the proprietor of what he believes is the world’s first mobile margarita bar.

And what a bar on wheels it is. Rita, as Melendez coined it, has been fully restored and hand-painted in a striking mint green with vintage lettering and styling. Since it first hit the road in 2012, the truck has been the star of thousands of private events and been used as a prop in TV commercials for such companies as Southwest Airlines, NBC and Humira.

When Melendez cruises down the road, windows open and music blaring, he sometimes can’t help feeling like Lennon and McCartney are riding shotgun.

“You’re on the freeway, and people are waving at you and honking their horns,” he said. “They’re taking photographs. It’s like you’re riding with the Beatles or something.”

Rita is the centerpiece of Rasta Rita, Melendez’s beverage catering company, which expanded two years ago to include Lady, a 1973 Chevy Balboa RV that he rescued from the chopping block – for free this time – and that was lovingly refurbished just like her sister. Business has been so good that Melendez is now on the lookout for a third vehicle that he would deploy as a rum truck.

Rasta Rita, in turn, is an offshoot of Rasta Taco, which Melendez founded in 2006 and which features both the taco catering and what he calls the smallest restaurant in California – a 220-square-foot taco stand in Laguna Beach that was converted from a one-chair barber shop.

You might be asking what the connection is between tacos, margaritas and the Rastafarian culture referenced in the company titles. Melendez stumbled on the idea during a vacation in Jamaica. Traveling through the backcountry, he encountered a series of jerk chicken stands that reminded him of the taco stands of Baja California, where he lived for a spell in the 1990s. He dreamt up the name Rasta Taco while on a bus en route to Bob Marley’s house, and reinforced the link years later by opening a second restaurant location in the Jamaican tourist town of Ocho Rios.

Rasta Rita was conceived as a supplement to the taco business, but thanks to that photogenic truck, it quickly became the main attraction. For her killer looks, Rita owes a huge debt of gratitude to a couple of people. After Melendez completed the harrowing drive south from Sacramento, he had bad experiences with both a mechanic and a painter before finding the men who made the truck hum and sparkle.

Aaron Hamusek of Orange County Hotrods practically rebuilt Rita from the inside out and still maintains it because, as Melendez puts it, the truck is his business and if the engine stalls on his way to a wedding reception, the bride won’t stand for any excuses.

“He does a phenomenal job,” Melendez said of Hamusek. “If something’s broken, he’ll make the part. He won’t just go buy it; he’ll build it. This particular truck needed that because there are a lot of hard-to-find parts.”

As for the design, Melendez was insistent that he didn’t want decals or wraps. Enter Christopher Lord, a Long Beach artist who has a number of national clients and spent a decade traveling the country to paint signs and murals for Lucky Brand denim’s retail stores.

“I was very clear to Christopher that I wanted a billboard type of feel, but I didn’t want it to look like I was selling something,” Melendez said. “It just turned out perfect. The minute I drove that thing off, I could feel it. I could feel that I was doing something unique.”

Melendez budgeted $15,000 for Rita’s restoration but ended up spending more than $100,000. His packed schedule of gigs tells him it was worth it. Assisted by a team of contract workers, he books corporate events, weddings and parties throughout Southern California, but he’ll venture farther if necessary. Rita has been as far north as Palo Alto and as far east as Las Vegas. Melendez even offers a non-alcoholic package with virgin margarita mixes, agua frescas and signature sides.

The unforeseen birth and success of the margarita truck is just the latest curveball in a life that has been full of them. Melendez attended boarding school for five years, served in the Persian Gulf War as a member of the U.S. Navy, and taught English to preschoolers in Mexico. At Cal State San Marcos, where he majored in liberal studies, he worked in the Office of Global Education and had his eyes opened to opportunities to study abroad. He lived in Spain for his final semester in 1996 and loved it so much that he stayed in the country to earn an MBA.

His lifelong ambition had been to try his hand in fashion design, so when Melendez returned to California, he used his business chops to start a men’s clothing line with a Latin influence. Within a year, the clothes were being sold in 50 stores and Melendez had been interviewed by such magazines as People and Newsweek. But the company became a casualty of the economic downturn after 9/11, and he was plunged into a “midlife crisis in my late 20s.”

Melendez never could have imagined that he ultimately would be saved by a margarita truck. Heck, he didn’t even know how to make a margarita.

“He’s said this to me so many times, that the best part of the job is that he gets to bring joy with the truck,” said Jeri Regan, Melendez’s longtime girlfriend. “It’s basically the best guest at any event. He gets to see the intimate part of people’s lives and lifestyles. There’s a lot that goes on in California that you’re never privy to see.”

Rita is Melendez’s ticket. He has catered big corporate parties for Facebook and HBO. He has done events where guests included Angelina Jolie, Queen Latifah, LL Cool J and the cast of the Showtime series “Shameless.” He has been to the house of John Paul DeJoria, the founder of Paul Mitchell hair products, who also happens to own the company that produces Patron, one of the world’s best-known premium tequilas. (“And I’m serving this guy a margarita,” Melendez said incredulously.)

At one especially posh gig, Melendez asked to use the bathroom, went inside the house, and spotted an Oscar sitting on a shelf. The nameplate read Hilary Swank.

“The starstruck part fades because you know that you have a cool truck,” Melendez said. “We’ve been at events at $10 million beach houses in Malibu. And people are outside in the alley with us and the truck.”

Coleman, for a certain period of her life, was the cake lady. Birthday party? Bake a cake. Baby shower? Bake a cake.

She loved being in a kitchen generally, and baking specifically, as a creative outlet and as a stress reliever after a long day working with at-risk youth at Casa de Amparo or helping to develop the Master of Social Work program at Cal State San Marcos. And she was good at it, too. She watched countless YouTube videos to perfect her technique, and when that didn’t do the trick, she took local classes in baking and cake decorating.

Coleman acquired all the knowledge she needed to make her the queen of the bake sale. Yet still she craved more. So when her husband was given an opportunity to move to England as part of his job with Viasat, she read it as a sign from the universe.

She applied and was accepted into Le Cordon Bleu London, the most competitive branch of perhaps the most prestigious culinary school in the world. For almost a year, she trained under renowned French pastry chefs. She learned the scientific underpinnings for the recipes she already had mastered, plus dozens of new ones (and not just desserts, either). She discovered that, in addition to cakes, she possessed a rare gift for making chocolate.

And when she and her family returned to San Marcos in 2016, Coleman had everything she needed to turn her education into a fresh career. She started D’Liteful Chocolat, a patisserie and chocolatier that she operated out of a commercial kitchen in an industrial park for two years before opening a retail shop in Lake San Marcos last summer.

“When somebody comes in and asks how the macarons are made, I can tell them,” said Coleman, who graduated from CSUSM in 2005 with a degree in human development. “If they say, ‘Oh, I tried it, and all my macarons exploded,’ I can say, ‘You overaerated, you put too much air in them.’ They show me a product, and I can tell them exactly where they went wrong. Because I understand every single step of it. And that’s what I got from Le Cordon Bleu.”

The storefront that D’Liteful Chocolat (the “D” in the name stands for Dayleen, and the “Chocolat” is a nod to her French training) moved into last June represents a charming new public face of a company that has thrived behind the scenes since its founding in 2017. It’s located in a quaint shopping center across the street from the Lakehouse Hotel & Resort, and Coleman speaks fondly about how often hotel guests on vacation stroll by and are delighted to discover her delectable offerings (“It feels more like a destination location than just some place in a strip mall,” she said).

The walls of D’Liteful Chocolat are painted in Coleman’s trademark pastel purple, and every piece of equipment and decoration bears her imprint. Her big splurge was a temperature-controlled display case from Italy that she has dubbed “the shrine.” Inside it are such treats as her colorful macarons – flavors include strawberry, raspberry, lemon, orange, coffee, salted caramel, vanilla bean and chocolate – chocolate mousse, crème brûlée and a lemon meringue tart. The adjacent case contains an assortment of gourmet chocolates and truffles, and she also makes crepes with fresh berries and chantilly cream that some customers tell Coleman are better than those they can find in Paris.

Coleman is frequently asked about her favorite and most popular dessert. The answer is the same: opera cake, which is an almond sponge biscuit soaked with coffee syrup, layered with dark chocolate ganache and coffee butter cream, and topped with a chocolate disc. When the shop inevitably sells out of them, Coleman says, people will buy one anyway, simply to reserve it for the next day.

“Her opera cake is to die for. That is my favorite,” said Tracy Hall, a CSUSM human development lecturer who has been a close friend of Coleman’s for years. “She could work at any five-star restaurant with her talent. These are just exceptional desserts, and they’re beautiful. She has the creativity, the artistic flair, the knowledge. Yeah, she has it all.”

As well-received as the brick-and-mortar shop has been, it’s just one small part of Coleman’s business. She caters private events, sells chocolate at wholesale, designs and creates wedding cakes, and runs workshops and team-building exercises. In the past six months, as a sign of her enduring connection to CSUSM, she made a cake in honor of the retirements of former President Karen Haynes and First Gentleman Jim Mickelson; put together a special box of chocolates for Haynes’ successor, Dr. Ellen Neufeldt; whipped up special cupcakes to celebrate Kellogg Library’s 15^th anniversary; and did team-building for the College of Business Administration and the School of Education.

With the opening of the store, Coleman now supplements the half-dozen or so monthly private events at external locations with four workshops held in the kitchen of D’Liteful Chocolat – one featuring macarons and one chocolate for adults and children apiece. The workshop idea is something she brought back from her time in England, when after finishing at Le Cordon Bleu she worked for a company called Chocolate Craft and got involved with team-building events throughout the country.

“I would do sessions on private islands on the Thames, Henry the VIII castles from the 1500s. I had to pinch myself through the whole thing sometimes,” Coleman recalled. “I found that my passion was in teaching. I loved it. Because I love chocolate, and I love seeing other people getting to work and play with chocolate and have the same experience.”

Everything about living abroad might once have seemed fanciful to Coleman, a first-generation college graduate who was raised by a single mother in California’s Central Valley. She was working at CSUSM, and serving as president of the Alumni Association, when the England opportunity arose. Because the office where her husband, Curt, was to work is in Wareham, 116 miles southwest of London, the family chose to reside in a small village called Bishopstoke that’s roughly in the middle.

While her daughters, then 8 and 4, attended the local public school (and wore very British uniforms), Coleman would board a train and commute about 90 minutes to Le Cordon Bleu in the heart of London. The intensive program was four days a week for 10 months, and Coleman was the only American in her patisserie cohort of 15 students.

"The program itself was pretty brutal," said Curt Coleman, a software engineer who has worked at Viasat for two decades. "And then trying to balance that with being a mom and getting up to catch an early enough train that she would guarantee she would be there on time. Dayleen was pretty amazing in her ability to multitask on a daily basis, juggling being a mom and doing the student thing."

After the third of three terms, Coleman secured an internship at Côte Brasserie, a French restaurant in Winchester that had the benefit of being considerably closer to home. Initially offered a position in fish and seafood – “I was like, ‘Did you not see my CV?’ ” Coleman joked – she soon undertook the natural transition to pastry chef, making up to 300 desserts per day.

But her true joy (and skill), as she learned in her time at Le Cordon Bleu, was chocolate. Coleman says she remains in touch with most of her cohort from the school, and she’s the only one who has pursued chocolate for a living.

“At the end of a practical exam, I would present what I made after working with chocolate for three hours, and I wouldn’t have a drop on me and I’d have a smile on my face,” she said. “Most of the chefs were wearing chocolate everywhere and grimacing. It’s hard to work with chocolate. It’s not for everyone. But for me, it’s always felt calming and therapeutic.”

Coleman honed her abilities during an eight-month stint at Chocolate Craft, which is a factory built on a farm that dates back centuries. She was mentored by a chocolatier who doubled as a children’s book illustrator and taught Coleman to treat chocolate not just as a delicious treat, but as a piece of art.

Throughout her life-changing English experience – Le Cordon Bleu, the internship, the job at Chocolate Craft – Coleman was taking copious mental notes, knowing that she would incorporate as much as possible into her own business when she moved back to the States.

With D’Liteful Chocolat now in its third year, Coleman works with a team of seven employees, most of whom are cross-trained to handle myriad duties. Her assistant manager and head baker is Callista Rotondo, whom Coleman hired on a trial basis from Nothing Bundt Cakes more than a year ago and who now can make almost as many desserts as her boss can.

“She has taught me so much, especially with chocolate work. That was something I knew absolutely nothing about,” Rotondo said. “It’s really difficult, but she’s taught me how to make them unique. Anybody can go to the store and a buy a candy bar, but they can’t go to the store and buy what we have.”

Coleman has grand plans for D’Liteful Chocolat. She wants to expand into the space next door when the current owner retires and open a café. She wants to create a series of high-end boutiques in North County that will sell her wares, which still will be produced in the existing kitchen. Farther down the road, she envisions establishing a similar concept in her beloved England.

In the meantime, Coleman will continue to offer a little slice of Europe in a little corner of San Marcos.

When your job requires you to gorge on thousands of calories in a single sitting, it’s safe to say you’re not in it for the long haul.

“I think I have a few good years left in me,” Lamkin said.

Lamkin (’17) plans to enjoy every minute for as long as he can.

Known on social media as Erik the Electric (his nickname in high school), Lamkin posts weekly videos on his YouTube channel that feature him taking on seemingly impossible food challenges – and sometimes they do actually prove impossible.

During his annual food tour last summer, Lamkin created his own challenge at Elm Street Diner in Stamford, Conn. He gave himself 45 minutes to polish off eight dozen doughnuts – yes, eight dozen – covered in 3 pounds of Nutella and sprinkled with white chocolate chips. The plate weighed 13 pounds, and the concoction added up to more than 20,000 calories. Lamkin consumed about 17,000 of those calories before the timer brought an end to his quest as he told viewers that he was throwing in the towel – in this case, the actual Nutella-stained towel he used to wipe off his hands and face as he ate.

Lamkin doesn’t fall short on food challenges often. Some are formal restaurant challenges – the kind featured on shows like “Man v. Food” – and many are simply ones Lamkin has dreamed up that feature him eating copious amounts of fast food or junk food. All are wildly popular.

“It was a hobby that turned into my career,” Lamkin said. “I wake up every single day excited to do what I do.”

Not a day goes by that Lamkin doesn’t encounter at least one person asking, “What’s your real job?” But this is, in fact, his real job.

Lamkin’s videos have a total of more than 150 million views, including nearly 30 videos that have surpassed 1 million views each. That includes a July 2018 video in which Lamkin went on his first date with Kristie Higgs. They each took on a 5-pound burger challenge that included 1½ pounds of fries. Lamkin finished in less than 17 minutes. Higgs gave it a valiant effort before deciding it would be better to leave room for dessert (Lamkin partook in that, too). But the date was an unqualified success. More than a year later, Lamkin and Higgs are still together and have even started their own YouTube channel called The Electrics.

Lamkin’s charisma, coupled with his creativity in conceiving outlandish food challenges, has helped him gain a loyal – and massive – following. He has more than 1 million subscribers on his YouTube channel, including large fan bases in the United Kingdom and China.

Seeing Lamkin’s success as a competitive eater makes it all the more astonishing to learn about his battle with anorexia. Growing up in San Diego, Lamkin was overweight as a child before focusing on fitness as a teenager. But as his commitment to exercise grew, he became obsessed with his weight.

“When I was 16 years old, I was almost too scared to brush my teeth because I didn’t know how many calories were in toothpaste,” he said.

Lamkin’s weight dwindled to 115 pounds at its lowest point. During his sophomore year at Cal State San Marcos, Lamkin’s family pulled him out of school and sent him to a treatment facility. It helped him get to a better place mentally and physically.

Lamkin returned to CSUSM after completing his treatment and switched his major from business administration to communication, which he felt aligned better with his passion for entertaining people. Lamkin’s days were split between school and his job at a local bike shop while his nights were spent making videos, skills he had been honing since high school when he would post videos of himself playing guitar.

“They’d get like three views,” Lamkin said. “I’d hope that one of those views was a cute girl from my high school … but it wasn’t.”

While the guitar videos didn’t lead to any dates, Lamkin was becoming an expert in film editing and Photoshop, skills that would be critical to his later success as Erik the Electric. People tend to think of him solely as a competitive eater, but Lamkin estimates that at least 80% of his time is spent editing.

Lamkin’s YouTube channel had about 100,000 subscribers when he was approached by a YouTube network, which assists users in growing their channel in exchange for a cut of their earnings. Lamkin decided to give it a shot, and the decision paid off beyond all of his expectations.

“I never would have imagined that people from all around the world would want to watch,” he said. “When I go on YouTube, I don’t watch food videos. I go on to see if I can fix my computer cord or something like that. But food is one of those things that everybody can relate to.”

While Lamkin’s YouTube viewers are accustomed to seeing him devour thousands of calories at a time, his diet consists primarily of chicken and vegetables when he’s not doing a challenge. He works out religiously, and it’s an important part of his routine on the day of a food challenge.

It takes Lamkin up to 24 hours to fully recover from challenges designed around fast food or junk food. Restaurant challenges are easier on his body – “it’s usually a lot less food and not a ton of sodium,” he says – and he would eventually love to transition to doing a TV show that focuses on food and traveling.

After his battle with anorexia, Lamkin pays close attention to his health. He gets blood work done quarterly and said he wouldn’t do the food challenges if his health diminished.

While he readily acknowledges the ticking clock on a career as a competitive eater, he also is making the most of every moment. He loves to engage with his viewers, whether it’s someone who wants to know about his next food challenge or someone who wants to talk about how his story of overcoming anorexia has inspired them.

“It’s been a long journey,” he said, “but I’m very proud of where I’m at right now.”

Media Contact

Eric Breier, Public Affairs Specialist

ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

Lax’s father, Bernard, started the craft spirits company three years ago in the family’s native Los Angeles, and Lax now runs the growing business with a cousin. Its signature product, KIN White Whiskey, is a modern spin on the traditional moonshine culture of the Deep South.

KIN Whiskey, which also makes a brown bourbon, has expanded to sell its products in more than 100 bars and restaurants in California, including Jeune et Jolie, a French eatery in Carlsbad. In addition to his role as KIN’s brand manager, Lax, 31, bartends at Margot in Culver City, and he shares his creative concoctions with his almost 30,000 followers on Instagram, where he posts as @the.cocktail.bandit.

Question: As a born and raised Angeleno, how did you discover CSUSM?

Answer: I used to spend a lot of time in North San Diego County and fell in love with the area. I then toured the campus and realized what a community it was, and loved the smaller class sizes compared to the other universities I was looking at out of state.

Q: How did KIN Whiskey come about?

A: When I was growing up, my father would have moonshine in mason jars from a bootlegger in the back woods of Georgia. After a few run-ins with the law, one day he stopped cold turkey, but not before passing on his tips and recipe ideas. Fast forward a few years, when craft spirits became big, my father decided to take what he knew from this conversation and work with a small distillery in Oregon to create the product we sell today.

Q: Where do you enter the picture?

A: My cousin and I soon became the face of KIN and jumped into the industry with very little knowledge. We had to hustle and learn at the same time, and were literally selling KIN out of the back of our car once we became legitimate, with all the necessary licenses for distribution.

Q: So white whiskey is connected to the moonshine theme?

A: Only in that being unaged, it is reminiscent of moonshine. However, if you taste it, it will not be reminiscent of the taste of a typical moonshine.

Q: What sets your whiskey apart from others on the market?

A: Our white whiskey is a unique product and has a lot of interesting notes to it, unlike a lot of other brands that are similar. Our goal was to make a product that is used in bar programs rather than a novelty gift you buy your friends that comes in a mason jar.

Q: What is your favorite cocktail to make?

A: Anything with freshly muddled produce. I love using seasonal ingredients at their freshest.

Q: What is your favorite cocktail to drink?

A: A white Negroni, which is made of gin and two French aperitifs called Lillet Blanc and Suze. I love bitter cocktails. And there’s something so pretty about a completely clear cocktail with so much flavor.

Every person Neufeldt passed didn’t just receive a cordial salutation. Neufeldt took time to learn a little bit about each of them. It didn’t matter if it was a staff member she might see the following week or a parent she likely wouldn’t see again for four years until they return to watch their child graduate. Neufeldt was equally adept at allaying nervous parents and making staff feel like they had known her for years rather than the six weeks she had been on campus as CSUSM’s president.

“Ellen is genuine in all aspects of her life,” said John Broderick, the president of Old Dominion University, where Neufeldt worked for nearly a decade. “She is truly one of the most caring and committed people in higher education I have been around in my 30-plus years doing this. She has a remarkable way of connecting with people.”

Neufeldt’s uncanny ability to make everyone she comes in contact with feel at ease makes it that much more surprising to learn just how shy she was as a child in Cookeville, Tenn. It wasn’t until she was a first-year college student herself that she met people who helped her break out of that shell.

“The fact that people took time to make me feel comfortable and find my place in the world is something I want to do for everybody,” Neufeldt said.

Neufeldt is clearly doing just that at CSUSM. Her appointment as the university’s fourth president began July 1, just two months before the university marked the 30^th anniversary of its founding. Less than six months into her tenure, she is already enlisting students, faculty, staff, alumni and community friends in developing a vision for the next three decades. That vision includes building on CSUSM’s mission of social mobility and student success; fostering a collaborative approach that positions the university as a national model for helping individuals throughout the student life cycle; continuing to build innovative academic programs that benefit all members of the campus community; promote innovation and see issues through a diverse lens; and a firm commitment to community-engaged learning by providing students with high-impact educational opportunities that prepare them with the knowledge, skills and values they need to thrive.

The energy and enthusiasm Neufeldt brings to her new job – and her drive to make that vision a reality – should come as no surprise. Higher education and a dedication to helping students fulfill their dreams is part of her DNA.

Growing up in higher ed

Neufeldt’s parents moved to the United States from Canada before she was born so her father could pursue a Ph.D. in history at Michigan State University. Neufeldt was born in Michigan, but grew up in Cookeville, about 75 miles east of Nashville. Her father was a faculty member at Tennessee Technological University, and her mother was an administrative assistant in the university’s College of Engineering.

Neufeldt’s parents had a profound influence on her passion for higher education – even if she didn’t always realize it while growing up. It wasn’t until she was an adult that Neufeldt fully appreciated the obstacles her parents overcame, from her father navigating the challenges of being a first-generation college student to her mother supporting the family at a time when women working outside the home wasn’t widely supported.

“I think becoming president at Cal State San Marcos really was another step in helping me to look back and understand that what they gave and what they did in their lives had such a great impact on mine,” she said. “I grew up in higher education, and very few had that privilege. I’m so grateful for the choices that they’ve made.”

Neufeldt received her bachelor’s from Tennessee Tech in business administration, marketing. Her first job out of college was as a management trainee for a department store chain. She quickly worked her way up to manager, which was an education in itself. Neufeldt had to master everything from the art of unloading trucks to fixing toilets. In the process, she learned important lessons about leadership and self-reliance.

It was while working for the department store chain that Neufeldt realized how much she missed higher education. She had attended nursery school on Tennessee Tech’s campus. She was around the university throughout elementary school. She used its libraries during high school. It was part of her identity. But now, after a lifetime spent around a university, she was living in communities where there were no colleges.

“I really began to understand what I had and what I had been given,” she said. “There was always knowledge flowing, whether we’re talking about cultural events or just new ideas. There’s something about being around a college campus that I had taken for granted after growing up as a part of it.”

The decision to pursue a career in higher education was solidified while she was managing a department store in Nashville. One of her former advisers from Tennessee Tech approached her about attending graduate school and working as a graduate assistant.

It was all the encouragement Neufeldt needed. She earned a master’s in educational psychology and counselor education from Tennessee Tech, but her plans to get a job in academia were derailed by a lean job market. Instead, she took a job as a crisis counselor.

Neufeldt may not have known it at the time, but the experience she gained managing people at the department store and working as a counselor helped shape her future in higher education.

A perfect fit

A university presidency wasn’t on Neufeldt’s radar when she was hired as the assistant dean of students at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga in the mid-1990s. It was more than a decade later, when Neufeldt was the vice president for Student Affairs at Salisbury University in Maryland, that it was first mentioned. Salisbury’s president at the time, Janet Dudley-Eshbach, encouraged Neufeldt to consider the possibility.

Those conversations continued with Broderick at Old Dominion during Neufeldt’s eight-year stint at the Norfolk, Va., university. Neufeldt said Broderick was instrumental in her growth as a leader, and his guidance and mentorship continue to have a profound influence on her career.

Neufeldt served as the vice president for Student Engagement and Enrollment Services at Old Dominion, overseeing a budget of $70 million and a staff of nearly 400. The division was a major initiative for Broderick, who entrusted Neufeldt to direct its creation, development and coordination, and it gave Neufeldt the opportunity to pursue her passion for helping students succeed.

“Ellen wants to be engaged with students – with students across all aspects of campus,” Broderick said. “I don’t think anyone could ever say that they attempted to talk with her and she didn’t spend the necessary time to hold up her end of a two-way conversation.”

While Neufeldt’s myriad responsibilities prepared her well for a presidency, there were other aspects of Old Dominion that made her the right person to lead CSUSM into the next decade.

Old Dominion is a comprehensive public university that offers innovative academic programs. It is firmly committed to diversity and inclusiveness. It supports the social mobility of its students. It prioritizes community-engaged learning and has a far-reaching impact on its local economy.

Sound familiar?

“When Ellen realized she was going to have these opportunities to be considered for a presidency, she wanted to go to a school that resembled what we’re doing here in terms of serving first-generation students, not being afraid to work and help students, and embracing all learners,” Broderick said. “And I think she found a perfect fit. Plus, she found some pretty delightful weather, too.”

Weather aside, Old Dominion’s considerable similarities to CSUSM, coupled with Neufeldt’s experience and abilities, made her an ideal fit for the university’s presidential vacancy.

Neufeldt was even familiar with CSUSM from working with its first president, Bill Stacy, while he was the chancellor at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga. Stacy told Neufeldt about the university’s history as a chicken ranch, which made it all the more astonishing for her to see what the campus has become when she visited for the first time in March.

CSUSM’s presidential search, like all California State University presidential searches, was confidential, and the finalists flew to Los Angeles in March to meet with the search committee. Neufeldt saw firsthand the passion committee members had for CSUSM’s mission and their pride over what had been built in less than three decades. After her interview, Neufeldt rented a car and drove 100 miles south to see for herself.

Neufeldt’s incognito visit occurred on the weekend, so campus was relatively quiet. Still, she avoided interacting with anyone to ensure that the search would remain confidential. But it wasn’t long before she would have an opportunity to connect with the campus community.

‘It’s about us’

On March 20, the CSU Board of Trustees announced the appointment of Neufeldt as CSUSM’s fourth president. Not long after, Old Dominion held an event where Neufeldt announced the news that she would be departing for Southern California.

“There were a lot of cheers,” Broderick said, “but there were also a lot of tears. To me, that kind of epitomizes Ellen’s stay here. Everybody was happy for her to get an opportunity to go lead a great institution. But, at the same time, everybody was a little sad that we were losing a good friend and colleague.”

Neufeldt has wasted no time in acclimating to her new home. She wasn’t even on campus two hours on her first day when she made a beeline for Science Hall 1 to meet students participating in CSUSM’s signature Summer Scholars research program. She hasn’t slowed down in her ongoing effort to learn about the campus and the people who make it unique. It isn’t uncommon to see Neufeldt walking across campus engaging with students or for her to pop into an office spontaneously to chat with a staff member.

Retired Marine Major General Anthony Jackson, CSUSM’s interim director of Veterans Services, learned that firsthand in September when Neufeldt made an unexpected visit to talk with members of his team.

The Veterans Services staff had been relocated three times during the summer while finishing touches were put on the newly expanded and renovated Epstein Family Veterans Center. The constant disruptions proved challenging, and Neufeldt wanted to acknowledge the difficulties they endured. The next day, when Jackson asked staff how it felt to have the president of the university stop by, they shared with him how much it meant that she understood what they had experienced.

Jackson was part of the presidential search committee that reviewed candidate applications and interviewed finalists. He was impressed throughout the hiring process, and the first months of Neufeldt’s tenure confirmed his belief that she was the right choice for CSUSM.

“She has those people skills that allow a leader to get out and be comfortable with any audience and be very honest with them,” Jackson said. “She is someone who can engage you with a smile, but you know when it comes time to make hard decisions that she is extremely capable of doing it in a very calm, cool, collected way.”

Among Neufeldt’s initial priorities has been a comprehensive Listening and Learning Tour to gain a better understanding of the people, roles and priorities of CSUSM, and to hear directly from campus and community constituents about the university’s strengths and challenges.

It’s all part of fulfilling her mission to ensure that every person has a voice.

“It's not about me,” Neufeldt said. “It’s about us and how we move this campus forward together.”

The music allays the concerns about her right shoulder. It’s easy to understand her unease. After undergoing surgery on the shoulder three times, Jon’Nae continues to play in pain. She knows another injury likely would mean a premature end to her basketball career. But beyond basketball, other thoughts about the potential impact of further damage creep into her mind. From mundane tasks – will she be able to put her hair in a bun? – to the melancholy – when she has children, will she be able to hold them?

Jon’Nae takes a moment to let those thoughts swirl before the music helps calm her. Though the scars from her surgeries are a constant reminder, she’s able to erase all thoughts of reinjuring the shoulder.

“If you’re on the court thinking, ‘What if I get hurt?’ you’re going to get hurt,” Jon’Nae said. “I just play how I need to play. At the end of the day, whatever happens, that’s supposed to happen.

“I’m a tough kid. I can get through whatever’s thrown at me.”

Injuries are part of basketball, but the likelihood might be greater for someone who plays like Jon’Nae. Her game isn’t about guile or finesse. It’s about being physical. Shy away from contact? Jon’Nae welcomes it. She even refers to her style of play as “bully ball.”

“She makes a difference,” said Renee Jimenez, CSUSM’s head women’s basketball coach. “You notice her when you walk into the gym.”

Jimenez first noticed when Jon’Nae was in high school. Jimenez was the head coach at Cal State San Bernardino when she recruited Jon’Nae out of Santiago High School in Corona in 2014. Jon’Nae committed to play for Jimenez right before undergoing her first shoulder surgery. She injured it in the first game of her senior season when an opponent pulled her arm back as she was jumping for a rebound. Jon’Nae thought it might be a dislocation and continued to play. It was only when the pain became too much to bear that she visited a doctor and learned it would require surgery.

Jon’Nae sat out her first season at Cal State San Bernardino as a redshirt, which allows college athletes to extend their eligibility an extra season by not competing in games. Jon’Nae was just 17 when she entered college, so redshirting had the dual benefit of providing additional time to heal while she adjusted to the rigors of higher education.

But the transition to college proved challenging, particularly when it came to taking direction from Jimenez.

“In high school, I did whatever I wanted to do,” Jon’Nae said. “So I felt like in college I was going to do what I wanted to do, too.”

Despite the rocky start to their relationship, there was always mutual respect, which made it that much more difficult for Jon’Nae when she learned after the season that Jimenez had accepted the head coach position at CSUSM. Jon’Nae’s first instinct was to follow Jimenez south, but the coach recommended a different path.

CSUSM was in the middle of transitioning from NAIA to NCAA Division II, which meant the university wasn’t eligible for postseason play. Jimenez thought Jon’Nae was too good to pass up an opportunity to play for the postseason somewhere else.

Jon’Nae decided to attend Mt. San Antonio College, not far from where she grew up in Corona.

“That was probably the best decision I could have made for myself,” she said. “I grew up.”

Jon’Nae helped Mt. SAC win the California Community College Athletic Association women's state championship in her first season, collecting a long list of accolades along the way, including being named the state championship most valuable player. And she did it all while playing the second half of the season with an injured right shoulder that would again require surgery.

Jon’Nae injured the shoulder when she was fouled while going up for a layup in a January 2016 game. She fell to the court and knew right away something was wrong. But she got up, shot her free throws and played in the team’s final 10 games before an MRI after the season showed that she had torn nearly every ligament and suffered 40% bone loss in the socket.

Two months after winning the state title, Jon’Nae underwent her second surgery. She had six screws inserted into her shoulder (on top of the six from the first surgery). Doctors took part of her bicep and a portion of bone from her back to rebuild the shoulder.

But when Jon’Nae was finally cleared to start running again, she knew something wasn’t right. A trip to the doctor confirmed her fear – she had torn the ligaments again and needed a third surgery. The diagnosis came with a warning that she might not be able to play basketball again.

“It was hard because I was always Jon’Nae the basketball player,” she said. “In my head I thought, ‘Well, it’s over. I’m going to get surgery and then I have to move on with my life.’

“I went through this stage of depression. It was really hard.”

To the surprise of everyone, including her doctor, Jon’Nae saw positive results almost immediately following the surgery. She missed the 2016-17 basketball season while she recovered, but returned to Mt. SAC the following season and exhibited the same dominance to which teammates and foes alike had become accustomed.

While Jon’Nae and Jimenez didn’t always see eye-to-eye at Cal State San Bernardino, they remained in touch in the ensuing years. When it came time for Jon’Nae to transfer to a four-year school, she wanted to play for Jimenez.

“We grew up a lot together,” Jimenez said. “I was young when I coached her at San Bernardino. I was still trying to figure it out. I think she would tell you I’m a lot more relaxed now than when I was first coaching her. And she’s a lot more mature now than she was when she was 17.

“But I think San Marcos has really helped her grow up a lot and really pay attention to her academics and understand the importance of graduating. Before, it was all basketball. Now she’s understanding how to be a leader.”

As she approaches graduation next May, Jon’Nae is still working to grow as a leader. At Mt. SAC, if she was unhappy with a teammate’s effort in a game or practice, she made it abundantly clear. And she was used to her Mt. SAC teammates doing the same. At CSUSM, she joined a young squad of players who weren’t accustomed to such blunt criticism.

Dynnah Buckner was on the receiving end of Jon’Nae’s candid critiques more than once as a freshman last season. Early in the season, Dynnah often stopped by Jimenez’s office to ask why Jon’Nae was constantly yelling at her on the court. While Jimenez typically agreed with the message Jon’Nae was delivering, she encouraged her to provide it in a more constructive manner. And she emphasized to Dynnah that Jon’Nae’s criticism came from a desire to help Dynnah improve.

“At the end of the day, it’s all love,” Jon’Nae said. “When I'm on the court and I say something to you, you can’t take it personally. I'm not going to think twice about what I'm saying and how I'm saying it to you, because what I'm saying to you is the truth. No matter how I say it, it’s the truth. So you need to take it. And then if you want to have a conversation later, then we can do that, too, after the game – after we win.”

A turning point came when Dynnah took Jon’Nae up on that willingness to have a conversation. She asked if they could meet to talk things through. The next day, Jon’Nae invited Dynnah to join her on a trip to Los Angeles to see one of Jon’Nae’s friends play basketball for Cal State L.A.

“That's when she really explained why she was on me the way she was,” Dynnah said.

Jon’Nae said she was critical because she knew how great Dynnah could be and how important Dynnah was to the team’s success. She wanted Dynnah to stop worrying about making mistakes and simply play the game to the best of her abilities. And, perhaps most importantly, Jon’Nae finished by telling Dynnah that she always has her back.

“Her intentions were never bad,” Dynnah said. “At first, I sort of took it that way because it was the first time somebody really just came at me in a blunt way saying, ‘You need to get this together. You need to pick it up.’ But it was all out of love and wanting me to do better.”

On the court, it all comes down to winning for Jon’Nae. It doesn’t matter if it’s cross-town rival UC San Diego or a pick-up game at 24-Hour Fitness. Jon’Nae expects to win.

And she has high expectations for the Cougars this season. The team finished 18-10 a year ago, winning its first California Collegiate Athletic Association tournament game before ending the season with a loss to UCSD in the semifinals.

Jon’Nae wants to help CSUSM take that next step and reach the NCAA tournament. She worked throughout the summer to strengthen the shoulder and anticipates shedding the brace she has worn since her time at Mt. SAC, giving her more mobility on the court. She knows the shoulder won’t be 100 percent, and Jimenez plans to limit Jon’Nae’s practice time as the season progresses to help her stay healthy.

But Jon’Nae is used to playing in pain. She no longer has full range of motion and has accepted that she likely never will. The scars on her shoulder may serve as a constant reminder of what she has been through, but they no longer carry a negative connotation.

“I used to look at my scars and I used to be disgusted,” she said. “But now I’m proud of it. Scars tell the story of survival.”

Media Contact

Eric Breier, Public Affairs Specialist

ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

Some days, Isaias would hang out in a lobby waiting room, sometimes the cafeteria. Other times he would try to find a spot near his dad where he wouldn’t be in the way. Isaias wasn’t shy about talking to hospital employees and peppered his father with questions about the people he saw and their responsibilities.

By the time Isaias was in middle school, he was old enough to stay home and watch his younger brother, Josiah, while their father was at work.

But it wasn’t long before the hospital trips became part of Isaias’ routine again.

When Isaias was 16, Josiah was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s disease, a condition in which a person’s immune system attacks their thyroid. It took visits to multiple specialists to diagnose the problem, and Josiah was eventually prescribed thyroid medication that got it under control.

The compassion of doctors as they helped Josiah had an indelible impact on Isaias that continues to resonate as he approaches graduation from Cal State San Marcos.

“It was pretty hard to see my brother go through that, but seeing how the doctors worked with him really inspired me to pursue medicine,” said Isaias, who will graduate in May with a bachelor’s in kinesiology.

Tireless encouragement from his father and mentorship from CSUSM kinesiology professor Richard Armenta have been integral to Isaias’ success. He also is grateful for much-needed financial support from longtime CSUSM donors Lee and Rosita Hieb. When Isaias’ financial aid package was reduced as he entered his fifth year at CSUSM in 2018-19, he found assistance thanks to the generosity of the Hiebs, who established a scholarship in 2014 to help students with a financial need and an interest in a medical career.

“You love these kids who push themselves, because then he is also being an example for his brother,” Rosita Hieb said. “That's really beautiful and very selfless.”

Isaias’ dream of a career in medicine – of helping others like doctors helped his brother – has provided motivation for nearly a decade. It even drove him to give up his love of baseball so he could focus on his future.

Challenging transition

Luis was a single father trying to support two boys. Shortly after Isaias was born, Luis took a job at the hospital as a transporter, helping to move patients and equipment throughout the building. He previously worked at a grocery store, but wanted the hospital job so he would have health insurance for his family. Over the course of 20 years at the hospital, Luis eventually worked his way into his current position as a CT technician.

Isaias’ mother was never a consistent presence in his life as she struggled with drug addiction and spent time incarcerated. Isaias lived with her for a short period when he was in second grade, but it was a stretch marked by frequent absences, poor nutrition and academic struggles.

Moving in with his father changed everything. Isaias began to thrive in school, even qualifying for the Gifted and Talented Education program, more commonly known as GATE.

Though money was tight, Luis made sure his boys, both talented baseball players, had an opportunity to play travel ball, even when it meant borrowing money.

A first-generation college student, Isaias largely navigated the higher education process on his own. He applied to a handful of universities and learned of his acceptance to CSUSM in April 2014. A few months later, he was offered a scholarship to play baseball for the Cougars.

But the transition to college proved challenging. Isaias’ grade-point average was under 3.0 after his first semester, a disappointment for someone used to consistently being over 3.5.

“I didn’t know how to be a good student,” Isaias said. “I just thought I could get by like I did in high school.”

Isaias’ grades slowly improved, but he still wasn’t achieving the results he expected from himself. Compounding his difficulties, he learned that his brother was sick again. Josiah was diagnosed with pleural effusion, a buildup of fluid around the lungs, and valley fever, which is caused by a fungus that enters a person’s body through their lungs.

The disappointment over his grades, coupled with his brother’s illness, provided a wake-up call.

Isaias rededicated himself to his studies. He became more disciplined and focused on improving his time management. When it came to his brother’s health, seeing doctors once again provide care that was both skilled and compassionate reaffirmed his decision to pursue a career in medicine.

Isaias still remembers one doctor who knew his father assure Luis that he didn’t need to worry, that the hospital staff would take care of Josiah.

“Hearing that and seeing that, that’s something that I would love to tell people someday – ‘I’m going to take care of you,’ ” Isaias said. “My dad was so thankful and just happy to hear those words of affirmation.

“The way that doctor showed compassion and empathy toward my brother, that’s something that I want to do in the future.”

Making sacrifices

Ensuring his dream would one day become reality meant making sacrifices elsewhere. Baseball, which had always come first, had to take a backseat to schoolwork. As Isaias’ grades improved, he still managed to perform on the field. After missing the 2016 season because of shoulder surgery, he returned the following season and started 42 games, led the team in home runs and RBIs, and was selected to the All-California Collegiate Athletic Association second team.

Isaias put up solid numbers again in 2018 when he started 29 games, but he made a difficult decision at the end of the season. Despite having one more year of playing eligibility, he decided it was time to step away from baseball to devote all of his efforts toward completing his bachelor’s and preparing for medical school.

He wasted no time, participating in the UCSD Summer Training Academy for Research Success shortly after his final season ended. He has also spent two-plus years in the Palomar Health Pathmaker Internship program, which provides hands-on experience to students interested in health care careers. This past summer, he participated in a 10-week National Institutes of Health (NIH) research program in Maryland.

“I always call the NIH the holy grail of research because that's where the majority of our research funding comes from,” Armenta said. “To get an opportunity to go and work at kind of the hub of research funding in health and in science was an invaluable experience for Isaias. And I know he got a lot out of it.

“It's a really competitive program. They get thousands of applications for very few spots. It was an awesome experience for him that has only helped him grow more.”

Armenta has been instrumental in Isaias’ growth as a student ever since he took Armenta’s statistics and research methods course during the spring 2018 semester.

Isaias and Armenta immediately bonded over a shared love of baseball (they’re both fans of the Los Angeles Dodgers). But beyond their mutual allegiance to the Dodgers, they come from similar backgrounds. Armenta, like Isaias, was a first-generation college student and was able to provide expert guidance based on his own experiences.

“Without his help, I wouldn’t be where I am today,” Isaias said. “He really stuck his neck out for me and got me into places that I never would have thought about.”

The next stop will be a place Isaias has thought about often – medical school. UCLA and Stanford top his wish list, but first he will pursue a post-baccalaureate research program for a year to help prepare him for medical school.

Isaias’ brother is healthy and attending Riverside City College, where he will play baseball in the spring. While Isaias will be closely following Josiah’s progress – both on and off the field – he has no regrets about his own decision to step away from the game. In fact, when his dad suggested he pursue a master’s so he could play one more year, Isaias said, no, he’s committed to medical school.

“I played for 17 years, and to stop playing was very difficult,” Isaias said. “But I knew it was time to move on and do the things that would help me set myself up for a better future.”

Media Contact

Eric Breier, Public Affairs Specialist

ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

Now retired, they understand the challenges of charitable giving for young people when they’re early in their careers and trying to get established.

But Lee and Rosita also know a small amount can go a long way.

“If you can establish a pattern of giving at an early age – and it may not be for much – to get involved and to get that mental capacity of giving back can have a big impact,” Lee said. “We’ve been fortunate to be able to do that, and we plan to continue that.”

The Hiebs have been giving back to Cal State San Marcos students for nearly 25 years. Thanks to a planned gift made through CSUSM’s Legacy Society, their contributions will have an impact for generations.

“Joining the Legacy Society, we wanted to leave something,” Rosita said. “I don’t want to say something tangible because it’s more important than that. Things that are tangible can be here today and gone tomorrow. But to use your mind, your education, and to pass it on to other people is important.”

Lee and Rosita became acquainted with CSUSM through their friendship with Bob and Ruth Mangrum, early university supporters who played a critical role in the development of CSUSM athletics. The Hiebs were excited to learn about the fledgling university from the Mangrums and quickly became involved. Rosita participated in planning for the university’s annual Gala, including serving as the chair once and co-chair another time, while Lee was a member of the Cougar Club athletic committee.

The Hiebs gained a greater understanding of the need for student scholarships through their involvement with CSUSM’s President’s Circle with Rosita even serving as a member of the committee.

In addition to their legacy gift, the Hiebs in 2014 established an annual scholarship for an undergraduate student who demonstrates an interest in the medical field. The gift was inspired by Rosita’s father, a native of Peru who received a scholarship to attend Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine. In a neat coincidence, Rosita’s father began his medical schooling at another San Marcos – Universidad Nacional de San Marcos in Lima, Peru, the longest continuously operating university in the Americas.

The Hiebs’ philanthropy goes beyond their generous financial contributions. They like to stay in touch with and mentor scholarship recipients.

An avid runner, Lee has kept close count of the miles he has logged since he started running in 1984. He is approaching 43,000 miles, the equivalent of circling the earth almost two full times.

But it is the last 7,000 miles that are most meaningful. That is distance he has run since being diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. Lee established a support group – named, in a nod to common Parkinson’s symptoms, Movers and Shakers – to help others with the disease. The group meets on the first Tuesday of each month as part of Bible study through the Hiebs’ church.

“It’s another way of reaching out to the community and people that have the illness,” Lee said. “We share commonalities, and it’s important to help people understand that life isn’t over with a diagnosis like that.”

In fact, Lee still runs 3-5 miles five days a week.

While Lee does some occasional consulting work and Rosita is a community volunteer, they are both largely retired now and spend much of their time traveling. After Lee’s diagnosis, they vowed to make at least one international trip a year, and it soon grew into two international trips a year. They have now visited 71 countries, including multiple mission trips.

Faith is an integral part of their lives and they are focused on continuing to help others and encouraging others to do whatever they can to build their own culture of philanthropy.

“The cost of college is very expensive,” Lee said, “and having scholarship programs that can benefit people for generations afterward … what a way to give.”

Hi, my name is Danni. I use they/them pronouns. If you don’t mind me asking, what are your pronouns?

That process became unexpectedly complicated last spring while Danni was working as a peer educator at Cal State San Marcos’ Gender Equity Center.

As is their custom, Danni included their pronouns while welcoming a visiting student to the center. But each time the student visited, incorrect pronouns were used when referring to Danni. At first, Danni thought it might be a misunderstanding and they or one of their co-workers would politely correct the student. But it soon became clear that the misgendering was intentional.

“It’s about respecting someone’s identity,” said Danni, who is double majoring in art, media and design and women’s, gender, and sexuality studies. “I don’t tell you my pronouns just to tell you. It’s because it’s who I am, and referring to me any other way is hurtful because you’re not viewing me as who I am.”

The Gender Equity Center is part of the Student Life Centers for Identity, Inclusion, and Empowerment that help foster an inclusive and welcoming environment for all students. While it provides a safe space, fosters dialogue about gender equity and social justice, and provides critical resources for students, the tumult surrounding Danni’s misgendering served as a reminder of the need to remain diligent when it comes to educating the campus community about the importance of pronouns.

“Some people will say, ‘Why they/them? What does that mean?’ ” said Marina Flowers (no relation to Danni), a literature and writing studies major who is the peer coordinator in the Gender Equity Center and uses she/her pronouns. “And we say, ‘Let’s talk.’ That’s what we’re here for. We’re here to have an open conversation, a dialogue about these pronouns.”

While some grammarians resist using “they” as a singular pronoun, it has been used that way for centuries. The Oxford English Dictionary traces its usage back as early as the 14^th century and notes that it likely was commonly used long before that. The singular “they” was even voted the 2015 word of the year by the American Dialect Society.

Many people and organizations are trying to remove gender from their language. Last summer, the city of Berkeley proposed changes to make its municipal code more gender inclusive by changing words like “manhole” to “maintenance hole” and “manpower” to “human effort.”

Fernanda Hernandez Garcia, a fifth-year human development student, began using they/them/their pronouns a little more than a year ago. Fernanda began identifying as queer in their second year at CSUSM, and the usage of they/them/their was part of a natural progression.

“I'm not this cookie-cutter model for a woman that comes from a Latina background or a woman that is first generation,” said Fernanda, who worked in CSUSM’s LGBTQA Pride Center as a peer educator for two years. “I felt that they/them/their was my way of starting to encompass this experience that I am kind of already doing something different from what is expected of me.”

Fernanda said it has become standard practice in many of their human development courses for professors to begin the semester by having students introduce themselves with their names and pronouns.

One of Fernanda’s past professors, Martín Leyva, addresses students with phrases like “Good afternoon, y’all” or “How are you all doing?”

“It’s not up to me how someone identifies or who they are; it’s up to them,” said Leyva, who uses he/him pronouns. “And it’s my job to respect that and identify people how they want to be identified.”

Fernanda often doesn’t correct people when they misgender them, preferring to wait for an opportunity to reintroduce their pronouns.

“Something that I’ve learned is that if I let every little thing bother me, I kind of stop myself from then making other progress,” Fernanda said. “I am fortunate that for me it doesn’t cause so much dysphoria or anxiety, because friends of mine have shared with me that every time they’re misgendered and someone says ‘she’ even after they’ve tried multiple times to introduce themselves and let it be known that their pronouns are ‘he’ or ‘they,’ they let me know that it’s really a cringing experience for them.”

That was the case for Danni last spring when they were being intentionally misgendered. While the Gender Equity Center has long engaged in conversations about pronouns and even offers free buttons to make it easier for people to share their pronouns, the misgendering of Danni sparked center staff to redouble efforts, including the creation of a more robust website, increased advocacy efforts and becoming more visible on campus.

“Misgendering can be very much an accident,” Danni said. “But when it's intentional, you're reminding me of someone that I'm not. You're reminding me of a self that I'm not comfortable with anymore. So, hearing she/her pronouns when it's by accident, I totally brush it off. Hearing it over and over, it does bring this pain in my chest and discomfort to my body because that's not who I am. It's someone completely different that I've left in the past.

“It was hurtful at the time, but I get over things quickly. I’m on to bigger and better things. I’m not going to let one person hold me down.”

Why aren’t BSW interns placed in information referral systems?

“That would have been a deadly pick-up line, right?” said Haynes, laughing as she recalled the moment Mickelson asked her that question during an after-hours networking event while attending a conference in Cincinnati.

At the heart of the query was a challenge to the prevailing belief that the referral system was not robust enough to give baccalaureate social work students adequate field experience. Although the conversation occurred in a disco, they never danced. Instead, a debate ensued, which led to the pair coauthoring an article on the topic.

“I knew in that moment that she was out of my league,” Mickelson said.

Haynes and Mickelson have been together ever since – first and always as colleagues, then as spouses and parents. On June 30, Haynes will retire after 15½ years as Cal State San Marcos’ third president. Mickelson will join her after more than 12 years as the founding director of ACE Scholars Services, which supports former foster youth at the university.

Theirs is a love story that has spanned more than three decades and two presidencies. Soon, they’ll trade in the titles of President and First Gentleman to begin new adventures as Sparky and Stache, as they’re affectionately known to their grandchildren.

The book of love

A few years after that first chance meeting, while attending another social work conference in Washington, D.C., the pair continued their lively discussion over cocktails at a folksy bar. There, they bemoaned the absence of political advocacy within the field of social work. Haynes, then an associate professor at Indiana University, had started a social work political action committee in the state. Mickelson, who was a social worker in Detroit, had established a similar one in Michigan. Two drinks in, they concocted an idea.

On a nondescript white cocktail napkin, they penned the beginnings of what would be their great manifesto – a book that would revolutionize social work to influence policy change. It would teach aspiring social workers how to harness political action skills. It would be the rallying cry that advocacy is the central mission of social work practice. Topic by topic, they outlined the chapters and began divvying up the sections. She’d write the first half; he’d write the second.

For the next year, Haynes and Mickelson mailed 5.25-inch floppy disks back and forth from Bloomington to Detroit. Soon, they were piling up long-distance phone charges as they debated and discussed their book, their profession, their lives and their children.

“Affecting Change: Social Workers in the Political Arena” was first published in 1986 and has since had seven editions released.

“We had so many good intellectual debates and discussions writing the book together,” Mickelson said. “And we still do.”

When Haynes accepted a dean’s position at the University of Houston in 1985, Mickelson – who, upon hearing the news, exclaimed, “Why the heck would you move to Texas?” – followed her there after a year and then the two married.

Balancing dual careers

In Texas, they pursued their respective careers, each blazing a path of influence framed by their shared values of social work. As the sole woman in the administration at the University of Houston, Haynes created the nation’s only curriculum specializing in political social work. Mickelson developed and directed CHILDREN AT RISK, a child advocacy nonprofit, and garnered a reputation as the most persistent child advocate in Houston.

In 1995, the chancellor of the UH system asked Haynes to be the interim president for the Victoria campus, 125 miles away from their suburban Clearlake home, for one year. Never aspiring to be a president, Haynes agreed to fill the role temporarily. It didn’t make sense to uproot their lives for such a short stint, so Mickelson remained in Houston. Their daughter had just left for college, and suddenly their four-bedroom home felt very empty. On most weekends, Mickelson made the nearly two-and-a-half-hour drive through the flatlands of South Texas to Victoria.

Some weeks, he’d have to rush out of work on Friday and bolt down Highway 59 to attend a special event as the presidential spouse. One time, he forgot his dress suit pants and had to piece together a more casual look. And surprisingly, only once did he get a speeding ticket.

“We were both succeeding in our careers and we wanted to continue to do that,” Mickelson said. “But it got really hard, emotionally, to be apart for that long.”

The one-year interim appointment turned into two years. Haynes thrived in her new role. When the time came for a national presidential search, Haynes was nominated for the position. In 1997, she was appointed the eighth president of the University of Houston-Victoria (Haynes remains the longest-serving president in that university’s history). It would be two-and-a-half more years before Mickelson joined her.

“We knew at the time it was not a good career move for Jim,” Haynes said. “Obviously, there are fewer opportunities in a region that small, and very little political advocacy work.”

But Mickelson found opportunities. One year, following six teenage suicides in the small town, he orchestrated a community rally to pressure elected officials to provide better mental health services.

“We are both driven by those same core social work values – around addressing social injustices,” Mickelson said. “She’s trying to do that through higher education, and I’m trying to do that by removing barriers.”

Madam President and the First Gentleman

Over the 24 years of his wife’s two presidencies, Mickelson’s identity has often been mistaken. He once was called her driver and often was confused for a boyfriend. Some flubs are even comical, like when Mickelson is assumed to be the president.

It happens like this: The pair are attending a conference for presidents and their spouses. Introductions and pleasantries begin, and someone will turn to Mickelson and ask, “Where are you a president?”

Mickelson, in his quick wit, often wanted to respond, “Nah, Blondie is the president.” But he knew that comment would likely result in a sharp side elbow from Haynes.

While the scenario has played out in different scenes, the underlying sexist assumption is that clearly the man would be the president. At the time of Haynes’ first presidency, less than one in four university presidents were women, of which less than half were married. The role and presence of presidential husbands were largely absent. Folding napkins, hosting high tea, choosing centerpieces or approving invitation stationery were gendered roles commonly filled by presidential wives.

“People didn’t know what to do with a male presidential spouse,” Mickelson said.

To navigate this new world and address the erroneous gendered assumptions, the couple asked the university’s advancement professionals to deliberate. The title “First Gentleman” was suggested. It made sense and it has stuck with him ever since.

Intentionally making time

Every morning, when at home, Mickelson brings Haynes a cup of coffee. With the exception of the four years they lived in different cities, it’s been a daily ritual that begins a time to catch up, plan the day or week, and stay up to date on higher education, and state and national issues.

“We’ve been co-authors, collaborators, colleagues and best friends as well as parents and spouses trying to navigate two careers,” Haynes said. “If you keep communication open, even when it’s testy, and you respect what the other person is doing, it’s a lot easier to do the daily give and take. I think the fact that we have both respected what each other does professionally made a lot of it easier over time to give the support needed.”

Protecting their time together has been a priority for Haynes and Mickelson. They intentionally block off a weekend every six to eight weeks that is free of university business and events. Seasoned travelers, the pair have visited nearly 40 countries together, exploring cities and villages as much like a local as possible.

But perhaps more interesting than their travel destinations are that Haynes and Mickelson completely unplug during their vacations. The practice stems from Haynes’ value in work-life balance, but also derives from her leadership style to equip, empower and trust her staff in her absence.

“My colleague presidents have always said, ‘How in the world can you do that?’ ” Haynes said. “And I have always said, ‘If you don’t have a team you can trust, that’s what’s wrong.’ ”

From this day forward

Haynes and Mickelson aren’t ones to offer marriage advice (“Unless it’s at the request of our children, which once given is swiftly ignored,” said Haynes, laughing). But if there is one overarching theme of their marriage, it would be concessions.

“We both had to concede at some point,” Mickelson said. “I had to move and start over several times. Karen had to put up with the political pushback that came from me being a vocal child advocate. Working for a nonprofit, there were literally months when I didn’t get paid, and that was difficult. We both gave so the other could pursue their passion.”

Even though they never danced at the disco on the night they met, dancing has become a metaphor in their marriage. Whether it’s struggling to determine who leads or side-stepping political disagreements, extended family dilemmas or dual careers, they’ve been committed to dancing for the fun of it, not for perfection. And they try to avoid stepping on each other’s toes while letting each other shine in solo performances.

As they embark on their shared retirement, their short-term plans involve time with three children, and their spouses, and four grandchildren and lots of travel.

In the fall, the couple plans to take an extended trip to Montreal to revisit the city where Haynes lived while she earned her Master of Social Work at McGill University. From there, they’ll take a 11-day cruise to New York (Haynes grew up in northeastern New Jersey). There, they plan to see “Hamilton” and “The Book of Mormon” on Broadway and visit a selective magic club.

As for the long term, that’s still to be determined. But a line from their wedding vows Haynes pledged to Mickelson nearly 33 years ago offers a clue:

“Ahead of us lies anything we choose – constrained only by our vision.”

“The apparel oft proclaims the man.”

Shakespeare penned the line in “Hamlet” as Polonius’ parting parental advice to his son, but the statement – with its modern translation that clothes make the man – exposes a perplexing inequity for women in today’s workplace.

To rise into leadership, do women need to dress like men? Can a women show her femininity and still be seen as an effective leader?

When women began entering the corporate world in record numbers in the 1970s, women’s workwear attempted to mirror the power suits of traditional executive leadership. Enter the iconic looks of pantsuits, wide lapels, shoulder pads, pinstripes and monochromatic palettes.

While workplace attire has relaxed in American culture in the last two decades, the change has not necessarily been equitable, especially in top leadership roles. Women early in their careers might push the fashion standards forward or feel more freedom to dress to their preferred style, but the higher a woman climbs the leadership ladder, the more her wardrobe begins to be stripped of color, femininity and personal style.

“With a desire to be seen and heard for their expertise and not their clothes, it’s understandable why women moving into leadership roles would dial back their personal style,” said Shira Tarrant, an expert in gender justice issues and author of “Fashion Talks: Undressing the Power of Style.”

A quick Google search reveals that there is a never-ending rabbit hole of articles, blogs, tips and books instructing women what they should wear in the workplace. Many make the same claims: Don’t overaccessorize but be bold. Add color but not an aggressive color. Avoid trends but be stylish. Dress for the job you want but stay true to yourself. Be powerful and strong but not overbearing. Stand out but blend in. The paradoxical tips make heads spin.

“As women, we’re in this catch-22,” Tarrant said. “If we dress in suits and gray tones, we risk being considered conformist and inauthentic. If we dress differently, we risk being perceived as lacking authority or expertise. And it’s not simply men judging women; women judging women contributes to these implicit biases.”

Why the hubbub over what to wear?

Research shows that women in the workplace are judged more harshly on average for things that have nothing to do with their performance. People are more eager to make connections between a woman’s appearance and her competency, than they are with a man. Those judgments can cost women, literally.

Today, female full-time workers make only 80 cents for every dollar earned by men, despite being nearly half of the workforce and having more college and graduate degrees than men, according to the Institute for Women’s Policy Research. Women reach glass ceilings much earlier in their careers and are often sidestepped in promotions.

“Not only does what a woman wear affect how others perceive her abilities, which definitely contributes to the pay gap, but women are also spending more – a lot more – on their professional wardrobes,” Tarrant said.

In an attempt to avoid the gendered biases, many women unconsciously trade their preferred style for a more toned-down, more masculine wardrobe, in hopes of obtaining the opportunities given to their male counterparts.

“Even in 2019, it is difficult to be judged as both a good woman and a good leader,” said CSUSM President Karen Haynes, who built a reputation early in her career for defying conventional thinking that women leaders ought to dress in subdued tones and tailored pantsuits.

It hasn’t always been easy for Haynes. Drawn to bright colors, bold accessories and statement pieces, she once toned down her look. She had just been appointed dean of the Graduate School of Social Work at the University in Houston in 1985, and she was the only woman among 13 deans, and the first female administrator for the university. Trying to overcome sexism and prove she deserved her position of influence, she found herself emulating a masculine style, dressing in black, gray or navy suits and wearing modest jewelry.

“I noticed that it began to affect my self-esteem, and I seemed to be losing myself in trying to dress like the leaders that surrounded me,” Haynes said. “I felt literally and figuratively buttoned up.”

One day, Haynes decided she’d had enough.

“It took me a while to say, ‘The only way I can do this position is if I can speak in an authentic tone and stand up for my own style in leading,’” she said.

Her unapologetic conviction became so legendary that a national leadership program began telling its aspiring women leaders, “Don’t wear that – unless you’re Karen Haynes.”

Even the famous fuchsia suit that she wore during her open forum interview to become CSUSM’s third president made headlines. But it wasn’t just because she wore fuchsia. She intentionally referenced her outfit in her opening remarks and, in doing so, shared her sense of humor and authenticity rather than letting the campus derive its own conclusions and judgments about what she wore.

“We can’t change what we don’t talk about or see,” she said. “My style allows me to express who I am. I hope that my path and my determination to be true to myself can serve as an inspiration for other women.”

“That’s our challenge as feminists,” Tarrant said, “to keep the lens focused on the political implications and meanings of our assumptions and thoughts. As women continue to break glass ceilings, it’s OK that our wardrobe is part of that conversation. It starts first – like it did for Dr. Haynes – by embracing the importance of authenticity.”

In the lobby of Craven Hall, the university’s flagship building, hangs the official presidential portrait of Dr. Haynes. She is easy to spot. She’s the feminist wearing fuchsia.

1. Goodbye Taupe, Hello Presidential Purple // It was one of the first changes she made to her office. Initially, Haynes was told by the university architect that she could not have purple walls. Haynes still laughs as she recounts the story. “I replied, ‘I may not be able to change everything, but this I can,’ ” she said.

2. Signed with an “S” // Gifted by University of Houston-Victoria donors and designed by an artist who commissioned pieces for past U.S. presidents, the bronze-plated signature piece includes Haynes’ middle initial – “S” for Sue. While she was a dean at the University of Houston, Haynes’ mail often got mixed with that of her associate dean, Dr. Karen Holmes. Trying to mitigate mistakes, Haynes began using her middle initial in communications and within her signature. Although it didn’t make much of a difference in the mail sorting, the initial stuck. To this day, she includes the “S” when signing documents.

3. Penned with Purpose // Haynes has authored, coauthored or contributed to eight published books, including the revolutionary book she coauthored with her husband, “Affecting Change,” which focuses on advocacy as the central mission of social work practice. She keeps a copy of each of the seven editions in her office.

4. Haynes in Arabic // In the late 1970s, Haynes worked in Cairo for the U.S. Department of Health, Education and Welfare, which was housed within the Egyptian Institute for National Planning. This nameplate, written in Arabic, sat on her desk. “Active listening takes on a whole new meaning when your team’s first language is different from your own,” she said.

5. A Different Lens // One of more than 60 such objects owned by Haynes, this kaleidoscope was a gift from Professor David Bennett to thank Haynes for her candid insights on leadership success and failure during “In the Executive’s Chair,” a signature course of the College of Business Administration.

6. You’ve Got Mail // Haynes receives an average of 1,000 emails and 60 physical memos or documents requiring her authorization or review, weekly.

7. Some Like It Hot // Every morning at home, First Gentleman Jim Mickelson brings his wife a cup of coffee, which she prefers light with a little sweetener. But Haynes rarely finishes the cup. Instead, she sips it slowly throughout her morning, and then makes a second cup at the office. She keeps one mug warmer on her vanity at home and one on her desk.

8. Fuchsia Suit Wins // The legendary suit that Haynes wore, and referenced, during her open forum interview in 2003. One of three candidates vying to be the third president of CSUSM, Haynes famously said, “If you want to know why I’m wearing a fuchsia suit, it’s because I want you to remember me; and I’m pretty sure neither of the other candidates (who were men) will be wearing fuchsia.”

9. Tools of the Trade // Purchased from the jewelry store Casanova’s Downfall in Houston, these are the earrings Haynes wore during her campus interview. Haynes is known for her colorful, bold jewelry sets, often purchasing new pieces from wearable art festivals and boutique shops. Keeping those pieces together became a challenge, until Mickelson found inspiration at a hardware store. With rubber liners and easy gliding drawers, a customized top-chest toolbox holds Haynes’ many pieces.

10. The Object at Hand // In a time-honored CSU tradition, the outgoing senior president gifts a custom-made cane to their system successor. Haynes received her purple-jeweled cane in 2016 from President Ruben Armiñana, who was retiring from Sonoma State. Upon his retirement, Haynes became the first woman in CSU history to hold the title of senior president. In April, Haynes ceremonially passed the baton in the form of a new cane to Dianne Harrison, president of CSU Northridge.

11. A Renaissance Partner // Haynes’ husband, Mickelson, is an eclectic artist and hobbyist. His portfolio includes knitting, woodworking, photography, magic and stained glass. He built and gifted this piece to his wife in 1985 when she became dean of the Graduate School of Social Work at the University of Houston.

12. Sparky’s Family // Known to her grandchildren as “Sparky,” Haynes displays photos of her three children and four grandchildren throughout her office. Many of the images were photographed by Mickelson, who served as an unofficial university photographer for the first six years of Haynes’ tenure at CSUSM.

13. A Daily Dose // Every morning, Haynes reads Chronicle of Higher Education and Inside Higher Ed, and weekly she digests ACE’s President to President and AASCU’s Federal Highlights, keeping pulse of trends and challenges facing higher education, institutions and presidents.

14. Stocked Up // In any given week, Haynes has upward of 40 appointments on her calendar. Often on the go, Haynes keeps her refrigerator stocked with salads, cottage cheese, protein drinks, ready-to-go snacks and water.

15. Students First // In 2015, Haynes was honored by the California State Student Association as President of the Year, the highest award bestowed by the student-led organization. Students honored Haynes by saying, “Her student-centered leadership style, willingness to involve students in decision-making and support for statewide student advocacy efforts makes her a standout president.”

16. Audacious Goals // In a pinnacle of her career, Haynes successfully concluded CSUSM’s first comprehensive campaign in 2018. It was at her urging that CSUSM declared an ambitious $50 million goal – unheard of for such a young institution to attempt in its first campaign. Not only did she lead the university in exceeding its goal, but Forward Together shattered all expectations, raising $55 million.

17. A Source of Inspiration // Haynes has long been a champion for women’s rights and the advancement of women leaders. She keeps a photograph of her role model, Ann Richards, former governor of Texas, who she met through Leadership Texas, a women’s leadership network.

18. A Pearl of Wisdom // Gifted by her former chief of staff, Matt Ceppi, Haynes’ likeness was modeled into a bobblehead. Don’t look too closely, though. The bobblehead features Haynes sporting pearl earrings and a pearl necklace. Haynes, known for her bold jewelry, still laughs when she looks at it, exclaiming, “When have I ever worn pearls?”

19. Fit for a Queen // A birthday gift from her staff when she turned 70, the jeweled tiara features Haynes’ favorite color: purple.

20. A Little Levity // “And they thought every decision was strategic,” said Haynes, joking. A gift from her staff, the Magic 8 Ball pays tribute to one of Haynes’ signature leadership beliefs – make time for fun.

It came from a shop in Amsterdam, purchased while Haynes and her husband, Jim Mickelson, were teaching abroad one summer. This was before Haynes was appointed Cal State San Marcos’ third president, before she even knew where the university was located.

At the time, it was simply another suit to wear for work. Who could have known that this particular fuchsia outfit would come to symbolize a 15½-year presidency at CSUSM?

Haynes’ tenure, covering more than half of the university’s existence, will come to an end on June 30 when she retires as CSUSM’s longest-serving president.

“She’s been a perfect president in an important moment in time for this campus,” said Neal Hoss, CSUSM’s vice president of Finance and Administrative Services.

Haynes devoted more than three decades in academic leadership to creating opportunities for others. Her career has been defined by firsts – first in her family to earn a degree, first student admitted to the University of Texas-Austin’s social work Ph.D. program, first female academic administrator at the University of Houston, first female senior president of the California State University system.

Haynes’ legacy at CSUSM includes taking a small university of some 7,000 students when she arrived in 2004 and growing it into the educational hub of the region, a university that today has 17,000 students who represent the diversity of the surrounding communities. The 10 buildings that comprised campus back then have more than doubled under her leadership. The university’s alumni base, about 13,000 when she arrived, is approaching 50,000 – and Haynes has shaken the hands of nearly three-quarters of those graduates at commencement.

It’s not happenstance that the majority of those graduates are the first in their families to earn a four-year degree or come from an underrepresented background. It was all part of fulfilling the promises Haynes made when she accepted the appointment to become CSUSM’s president, from raising the educational attainment rate to creating a student body that mirrors the diversity of the region to ensuring that CSUSM was no longer referred to as “the best-kept secret.”

“What she says she’s going to do and what she says she believes, you see evidence in her actions,” said Patricia Prado-Olmos, CSUSM’s vice president of Community Engagement and a member of the campus community since 1997.

Bold goals – and achieving those goals – have been a hallmark of Haynes’ presidency. Much like a certain fuchsia suit.

Unexpected path

Haynes has often said she never wanted to be a university president, and she certainly didn’t take a traditional path to the position.

Like so many of CSUSM’s alumni, Haynes is a first-generation college graduate, earning her bachelor’s from Goucher College in Maryland and her master’s in social work from McGill University in Montreal. She began pursuing her Ph.D. at the University of Texas-Austin when her son was 18 months old and gave birth to her daughter in Egypt six months before completing her doctoral dissertation and three years after enrolling.

Haynes’ higher education journey continued when she was hired in the late ’70s as an assistant professor of social work at Indiana University. She ascended to full professor before accepting a position as the dean of the Graduate School of Social Work at the University of Houston, where she became the university’s first female academic administrator – the lone woman among the 14 deans throughout her 10-year tenure.

When Haynes was appointed the interim president of the University of Houston-Victoria in 1995, she was thought to be the only social worker in the country who was a university president.

The move from dean to president wasn’t without challenges. The appointment was only supposed to be for a year, so Mickelson remained in Houston, where he was a well-known child advocate, while Haynes lived and worked 125 miles south in Victoria.

“We both knew intellectually that being a president meant something different than being a dean,” Haynes said. “We probably didn’t initially realize how much it meant in terms of the significantly higher degree of visibility.”

The University of Houston-Victoria conducted a national search for a permanent president and determined that the best person for the job was already in the position. Haynes served for 8½ years, turning a university that had campus climate issues when she arrived to one that regularly ranked among the top employers in public higher education in Texas.

But by the early 2000s, Haynes was ready for a new challenge. She became one of three finalists for a presidential appointment at a California State University institution – but it wasn’t the campus in San Marcos.

Making a statement

Haynes was a popular candidate for the presidential opening at Sacramento State in 2003. Though the job went to someone already in the CSU system – CSUSM’s second president, Alexander Gonzalez – going through the hiring process helped Haynes get to know then-CSU Chancellor Charles Reed, who still had two vacancies to fill – one at Chico State and another at CSUSM created by Gonzalez’s departure. Reed told Haynes she would have to choose just one to pursue.

Chico State was well-established, with more than 100 years of history. The opportunity to help shape a young university was too appealing to pass up. Haynes removed her name from consideration at Chico State and soon became one of three finalists for the job at CSUSM.

Today’s CSU presidential searches are conducted confidentially, but when Haynes was in the running for CSUSM’s opening, candidates were required to be on campus, meet with multiple constituencies, and appear at an open forum that provided an opportunity for the campus and external community to ask questions.

As Haynes was preparing for the forum, she showed Mickelson two suits she was considering: a navy blue one – what might be considered the norm for a university president – and the fuchsia suit from Amsterdam.

Mickelson had just one question.

“Do you want the job?” he asked.

Haynes replied that she did.

“Then wear the navy.”

Haynes chose fuchsia. She did, however, take Mickelson’s other suggestion.

“He said to me, ‘Then you need to make a statement about it,’ ” Haynes said. “And he was right.”

Haynes opened the public forum by telling attendees that she chose the fuchsia suit because she was the first of three candidates and she wanted to ensure that they would remember her at the end.

“And I’m certain,” she added, knowing the other two finalists were men, “that I’ll be the only one in fuchsia.”

On Nov. 20, 2003, the CSU announced that Haynes would become CSUSM’s third president. Less than three months later, on Feb. 2, 2004, Haynes began her tenure at CSUSM.

It never occurred to Haynes at the time that it would be the beginning of an unprecedented stretch at CSUSM.

Bold and audacious

It’s easy to forget in 2019 how relatively small and undiscovered CSUSM was when Haynes arrived.

Kellogg Library hadn’t yet celebrated its official opening. The athletics department had six teams competing at the NAIA level. People were more likely to talk about the chicken ranch that the university land used to be than they were about it being the education hub of the region.

Haynes was drawn to the campus’ youth and potential. She saw the possibility for influence and vision. She knew it offered an appealing, fun challenge. She focused on the two words that have been a mantra throughout her presidency: bold and audacious.

Among the bold promises made by Haynes were that CSUSM would raise the educational rate of the region and the student body would reflect its diversity.

“That took the intention and focus of so many people across this campus,” Prado-Olmos said, “from admissions to recruitment to reaching back to the K-12 schools to building the support systems inside campus for students who were coming in and represented a very different reality than other students we may have had beforehand.”

Haynes delivered on those promises and countless others, helping CSUSM grow into a successful model for 21^st century higher education.

Haynes oversaw the launch of the Alliance to Accelerate Excellence in Education, providing a guaranteed pathway to college for 200,000 K-12 students in the region. She hired the first full-time tribal liaison in the CSU system and developed a Native Advisory Council to advise her on serving the needs of local tribal communities. She launched the CSU Institute for Palliative Care to prepare current and future health-care workers while educating the community about the benefits of palliative care. She has been a champion for student veterans and their dependents, who make up 12 percent of CSUSM’s student population. She helped revive the Southern California branch of the ACE Women’s Network as part of her efforts to open doors for other women in academic leadership.

In December, Haynes successfully closed CSUSM’s first comprehensive fundraising campaign, Forward Together. At the time of its 2012 launch, no other university in the CSU – and likely in the nation – had attempted a campaign of its magnitude at such a young age. CSUSM shattered its $50 million goal, raising more than $55 million.

“She’s one of the most impactful presidents of an academic institution that I have ever known,” said Ruth Westreich, founder and president of The Westreich Foundation and a longtime CSUSM supporter. “She has created a legacy of success, of innovation.”

Being who you are

Haynes is a rarity among university presidents, holding the position at CSUSM more than twice as long as the average university presidency of 6½ years. She is the first woman to hold the role of senior president in the CSU system.

Haynes has often said to her leadership team, “Why would I leave if there’s still excitement?” She thrives on rising to challenges and making the most of opportunities.

“The thing that stands out to me is that she always remained positive and focused on the students,” Hoss said. “She cares about people and she has more energy than anyone.”

It’s the people who give Haynes energy, and it’s the people she will miss most. After 15½ years, she has as much enthusiasm for the job as she did on the day she arrived. But she also feels like now is the right time to step away.

CSUSM has enjoyed unprecedented success under her leadership, maturing as an institution and gaining visibility throughout the region and beyond.

Haynes and Mickelson are looking forward to spending more time with their three children and four grandchildren. They plan to travel, a passion for Haynes since she boarded her first international flight to Malaysia when she was 23 years old.

Perhaps one of those trips will take them back to the Netherlands, maybe even to a certain clothing shop in Amsterdam.

Haynes still has the fuchsia suit she wore to that public forum nearly 16 years ago. It fits today just as it did on Nov. 5, 2003. There have been times over the years when she has wondered if the suit has seen better days, when she considered donating it. But each time, she holds on to it.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to let that go for a while,” she said. “It’s that story of that suit and the fact that the story has taken on a symbolism that’s been important to me. It’s the question, ‘Can you do the job and be who you are?’ That’s the story, right?”

That was what Brantley called Jim Mickelson, the founding director of ACE Scholars Services. The innovative Cal State San Marcos program for former foster youth had opened a door for Brantley to attend college against the odds, had put him on track to graduate from college – in defiance of even greater odds.

It was all on the verge of derailing, though, when his great aunt died. This was his foster mother, the woman who had raised him and given him some semblance of stability in a chaotic upbringing. The suicidal thoughts that had bedeviled Brantley in high school returned. He worried that he might have to drop out of CSUSM, and God only knew where that would lead.

Brantley told Mickelson about his foster mother’s passing but insisted that he didn’t need help. Mr. Jim knew better. He all but ordered Brantley to go to the campus counseling center and checked in on him constantly during the ensuing weeks to monitor his recovery.

“I somehow escaped from one of the darkest places in my life,” Brantley said, “and I truly believe if he didn’t do what he did, I don’t know where I would be right now.”

Mickelson, 70, will retire this summer, along with his wife, CSUSM President Karen Haynes. He will step away from ACE, the program he created more than 12 years ago as a one-man operation in a one-room office in Craven Hall. He will travel. He will volunteer his time. He will indulge his passions for magic and photography.

What he’ll leave behind is a legacy that is reflected in people like Brantley, who graduated in 2017 with a degree in computer science and now works as a developer for a big software company in Tokyo. It’s reflected in the 64 photos that adorn a wall at the entrance to the Jan and Esther Stearns Center for ACE Scholars – each one representing a former foster youth who graduated from CSUSM and contributed to the university’s growing reputation as a national leader in producing success stories from perhaps the most vulnerable populations.

“The students in those pictures on the wall are my legacy,” Mickelson said. “I have a center, I’ve got policies, I’ve got staff, but that’s not what I’m passionate about. It really is about all these young people.”

Finding his home on campus

Mickelson had worked with at-risk youth for decades when Haynes was appointed president of CSUSM in 2003. He had earned a master’s degree in social work from Wayne State University in Detroit. In Houston, he had started and led a nonprofit called CHILDREN AT RISK with such fervor that the Houston Chronicle labeled him “the most persistent child advocate in town.”

Relocated to California, Mickelson was looking – with little success at first – to find an outlet where he could apply his expertise. An opportunity arose when he discovered that CSUSM, under the auspices of the Educational Opportunity Program, was trying to build a program to assist former foster youth.

Mickelson offered his services as a volunteer to Lorena Checa, then the director of EOP and now vice president of Student Affairs. He still recalls the date of his first day on the job: Feb. 10, 2007.

“It was an empty office,” Mickelson said. “All I had was a phone. The computer wasn’t hooked up yet. Lorena gave me a bunch of loose-leaf notebooks from a conference she had attended. That was it.”

Mickelson started with nine students and no money. After researching previous approaches to supporting former foster youth, he decided that a different kind of program was needed. He chose the name ACE – it stands for Achieving College Excellence – then set about addressing the lack of funding as he began to develop a top-tier program.

Early seed money came from several sources, but ACE’s trajectory fundamentally changed when Mickelson met Esther Stearns, then the president and chief operating officer of LPL Financial. A parent to three foster children with her wife, Jan, Stearns called Mickelson in 2008 after reading a newspaper article about ACE and the development of the Tukwut Towel as a fundraiser.

Mickelson arranged a campus tour, after which he thought he might receive $3,000 from the Stearnses. They shocked him by giving $25,000. Their donations kept increasing, reaching $1 million in 2014 to go toward both a beautiful new center for ACE off Tukwut Courtyard and an endowment that Mickelson had created six years earlier. Named for its benefactors, the Stearns Center features a large study area with a computer lab, offices for staff and a spacious student lounge.

“We were blown away by the creativity of the program he put together. It’s unique and really based on the needs of former foster youth,” Esther Stearns said. “I find Jim’s sense for what these young people need to be instinctive and impressive. He just has touched so many lives.”

Even before the physical footprint expanded, Mickelson was creating a one-of-a-kind program. He signed agreements with regional counties (it now applies statewide) offering priority, front-of-the-line admission to foster youth who meet the minimum entrance standards, thus removing a significant barrier preventing such students from pursuing higher education. He negotiated a plan that allows ACE students to live in on-campus housing with reduced rent.

He instituted working scholarships that give students campus jobs, and a head start on a potential career (four products of that program became full-time CSUSM employees). He established seminars that help both freshmen and transfer students with their transition to a four-year university.

And Mickelson hired two full-time counselors who, like him, have a master’s in social work, in keeping with his belief that the program should be rooted in social work values. According to national statistics, three out of four foster youth want to attend college, but only 10 percent make it there, with the majority lost to homelessness or incarceration. ACE Scholars Services boasts a retention rate of about 85 percent, far above the national average of 50 percent.

“I am always moved by Jim’s ability to paint a picture of the frighteningly low graduation rates and employment figures associated with foster care, while celebrating the resilience, accomplishments and potential of the individuals impacted,” said Cecelia Kouma, the executive director of Playwrights Project, who has worked with Mickelson and the CSUSM theater department to produce plays based on the stories of ACE Scholars. “Jim cares deeply for the youth he serves through ACE.”

The youth, in turn, care deeply for him. ACE students have fondly nicknamed Mickelson “The Godfather” because he’s the one who works out complex issues that students encounter. Mickelson has come to embrace the tag, even forming a godfather’s list for students with at least a 3.0 grade-point average.

“He expects greatness, but not in a sense that he’s disappointed if you don’t get there,” said Priscilla Arciniega, a 2015 ACE alumna. “It’s more like, ‘I believe you can do anything,’ and not in a cheesy way. He wants you to go for your dreams.”

Word about ACE has gotten out. Mickelson said the chancellor from the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater came to campus in March to study the program.

“I don’t think there is another program like this in the nation. There’s no place like ACE,” Mickelson said.

‘Injustice is what drives me’

Mickelson can relate to ACE students who struggle in school. He did, too. A self-described “lousy” student growing up in a suburb of Detroit, he gravitated to non-academic pursuits like gardening and photography. He once won an award at a state fair for beets he grew, and in high school he would shoot weddings for couples who couldn’t afford a professional.

A high school adviser bluntly told him he wasn’t college material, but Mickelson went anyway. After seeming to confirm the adviser’s suspicions by failing out of Northern Michigan University as a freshman, he persisted, ending up at Colorado State University-Pueblo, which accepted him on probation.

It wasn’t until a determined Mickelson was in his master’s program at Wayne State, and almost 30, that he finally learned the source of his trouble: He was dyslexic.

“I just thought I wasn’t capable,” he said. “Even now, I probably spell at a fourth-grade level. Thank goodness for computers. I dictate all the time.”

Mickelson says pursuing a career in social work was the best choice he ever made, “other than marrying my wife.” Asked why he’s so motivated to help at-risk youth, he replied: “Probably the injustice that occurs. Given all that this country has, we do not treat our children very well. That injustice is what drives me.”

He admits to moments of sadness that soon he no longer will be the face of ACE. Fifteen former foster youth are expected to graduate in May, which would mean 79 photos on that wall in the Stearns Center.

“Most people think the foster care system is terrible,” Mickelson said. “It’s not the system. It’s what got the children into the system that’s terrible. For young people to come here and achieve a degree after all of that is really quite amazing.

“I love what the alumni photos on the wall represent and I am proud each day I walk by them of the accomplishments of those students. They are my legacy.”

Media Contact

Brian Hiro, Communications Specialist

bhiro@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7306

But when Oberem steps down as CSUSM’s provost at the end of June, it will mark the end of a 6½-year tenure, more than double the California State University average of three years for the position.

“Dr. Oberem has been an exceptional leader and advocate for Academic Affairs,” said President Karen Haynes, who also will be retiring at the end of June. “I appreciate his thoughtfulness in consideration of university challenges and opportunities, his creation of a strong Academic Affairs leadership team and his seniority and credibility among the CSU provosts.”

A native of South Africa, Oberem arrived at CSUSM in 1996 as the university’s first physics hire. CSUSM didn’t have a physics department at the time – and Oberem was told there wouldn’t be one – so it was suggested that he become faculty in either chemistry or computer science while he taught physics courses. Instead, he convinced his dean to allow him to be an independent unit, providing the opportunity to manage his own budget while he set up the new physics labs.

Before his first semester on campus ended, Oberem wrote to the dean laying out exactly why the university needed a physics department. Most university physics departments at the time focused on preparing students for graduate school, but Oberem advocated for an applied physics program.

“Part of the reason I came here was because of the students we serve,” Oberem said. “I believed strongly that if we had a degree that emphasized applied physics, these students would be highly marketable in the regional job market with a bachelor’s degree. That really did prove to be true, even from the outset.”

The physics program celebrated its 10^th anniversary in 2017, and the department was recognized earlier this year by the American Physical Society for being ranked sixth in the nation based on the number of undergraduate physics degrees awarded to underrepresented minorities.

Oberem’s career took an unexpected turn in 2006 when he agreed to serve a four-year term as an associate dean for the erstwhile College of Arts and Sciences. The split of the colleges was announced at the end of his term, and then-Provost Emily Cutrer asked if he would stay on two more years and move to the new College of Science and Mathematics.

Near the end of the year, Cutrer announced that she was hiring an associate vice president for planning and academic resources, the position now known as vice provost. Intrigued by the job description, Oberem applied and, following a national search, was appointed to the position on May 1, 2012.

By the end of the year, Cutrer had left for a presidential opening in Texas. Haynes asked Oberem to serve as the interim provost while a national search was conducted for a permanent replacement. For the second time in less than a year, Oberem was an applicant in a national search and, for the second time, he got the job.

As Oberem’s time as an administrator nears its end, he is looking forward to spending more time with his family and pursuing his other interests – he is an accomplished musician and enjoys photography. He also is considering participating in the Faculty Early Retirement Program, which allows eligible tenured faculty to continue teaching part-time.

Oberem is grateful for more than two decades at CSUSM. Founding the physics department was just one of many notable achievements. As provost, he led the creation of the Office of Undergraduate Studies and he was also part of the effort to launch the university’s engineering program. But more than anything, he will miss the people.

“The people here are incredible,” he said. “What’s unique about this campus is the level of collaboration and genuine caring for one another. That’s one of the reasons that I came here.

“It’s just been really amazing.”

Media Contact

Eric Breier, Public Affairs Specialist

ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

She thinks it was three months. Her middle sister, Madina, estimates that it was closer to two. Whether it was two or three, one thing is certain – for a 9-year-old looking after a 6-year-old and a 3-year-old, it felt like an eternity.

Malika and her sisters got through those months on their own. They got through nearly two years in an orphanage. And they got through a seemingly interminable adoption process to create a new family with a loving couple from Fallbrook.

“We were meant to be,” Malika said.

Graduation day is a time of celebration and joy, but it will also be a bittersweet occasion for Malika. Crossing the commencement stage at Cal State San Marcos in May ends a six-year journey to earn her bachelor’s in biochemistry. It also means an end to driving from her parents’ Fallbrook home to campus each day with sisters Madina and Zarina, who also attend CSUSM. There will be no more daily lunches together on campus or study sessions in Kellogg Library, which they affectionately call their second home.

“We’ll have to start doing things on our own,” said Madina, also a biochemistry major who will graduate in 2021. “It’s going to be different.”

Malika won’t be going far as she enters the working world with an eye toward beginning nursing school in 2020. But considering where they’ve been, it will be, as Madina notes, different.

The road to the orphanage

Malika and her sisters grew up in Priozersk, a small city of less than 14,000 people known for a military base that is used by Russia for testing anti-ballistic and anti-aircraft defense systems.

The girls’ birth father, who was in his 60s, died of unknown causes, and their birth mother’s abuse of drugs and alcohol increased after his death. Their birth mother was prone to disappearing for days at a time before finally resurfacing to bring the girls more food. Then the temporary disappearances became permanent. The girls had no idea where their birth mother went. Malika stopped attending school so she could care for Madina and Zarina.

The girls managed to get food from a local market that allowed customers to purchase on credit, but the store owner soon had to cut them off because nobody was paying the bill. Malika was forced to beg for food.

“It was humiliating because we would ask people we knew,” she said.

A neighbor took the girls in after they had already been living on their own for months, but it didn’t last long. The strain of trying to care for three young girls in addition to her own children and grandchildren was too much to bear, and the neighbor called the police after two months. Malika and her sisters were placed in a temporary group home of about 80 children before being transported to a large orphanage in Karaganda, about 300 miles north of Priozersk.

While Malika and her sisters were fortunate to be placed in the same orphanage – some siblings were split up – they rarely saw each other. The more than 400 children in the orphanage were divided into age groups. Though Madina and Zarina started off in the same group, Madina soon aged into the next group. If they were lucky, the girls might see each other in the cafeteria. More commonly, they had to wait until a big celebration like Christmas or a summer activity.

“The hardest part was not knowing what was happening with my sisters,” Malika said. “If one kid was in trouble, everyone in the age group was in trouble and got punished. Knowing that happened in my age group, I couldn’t imagine what was going on with my sisters.”

While Malika and her sisters were becoming accustomed to life in the orphanage, some 7,000 miles away in Fallbrook, Peter and Sylvia Berens had been discussing adoption.

‘Love at first sight’

Peter and Sylvia’s first attempt at adoption was stymied by a paperwork mix-up, and they never even met the children whom the adoption group had targeted. The mistake helped Peter and Sylvia move to the top of the list the following year. They received a stack of photos of children waiting to be adopted. Peter didn’t even make it through half of the photos.

“When I saw the picture, I knew,” he said.

It was a photo of Malika, Madina and Zarina.

“We didn’t plan for three kids,” Sylvia said. “But we saw them and – something in their eyes, their sparkle – we knew they were going to be our kids.”

As part of the adoption program, the girls flew to the U.S. for a six-week trial period. The girls didn’t speak any English, and Peter and Sylvia spoke no Russian.

Despite the language barrier – “It was a lot of hand signals back and forth,” Peter said – they instantly connected.

“When people say love at first sight,” Malika said, “that’s how it was with our parents. We knew we were going to be together.”

But it was an arduous process. If everything went according to plan, Peter and Sylvia knew it would be nearly a year before they would get to bring the girls to the U.S. permanently. Six weeks together made it even more excruciating to see the girls board a plane to return to the orphanage in Kazakhstan.

Malika made one request of Peter and Sylvia before departing for Kazakhstan: She asked if they would visit the orphanage at Christmas. Peter and Sylvia couldn’t make any promises, but that December, as kids in the orphanage were preparing for the holiday, Malika noticed a buzz of excitement. Children were running to the windows and Malika could hear them saying, “The Americans are here.” She went to the window to see what the commotion was about.

It was Peter and Sylvia.

“I got really emotional,” Malika said. “That made it more real because I knew they wanted us and they loved us.”

Peter and Sylvia made two more trips to Kazakhstan – once for a bonding period with the girls and a final visit to bring their daughters home. The girls officially became U.S. citizens on May 5, 2005, at the moment their plane landed on U.S. soil.

A second chance

There were still adjustments and challenges. On their first night as an official family, Zarina woke up at 2 a.m. screaming yabloka, yabloka, yabloka while running wildly around the kitchen. Peter and Sylvia had no idea what she was saying nor the severity of the problem. They called one of their employees, a native of Uzbekistan who spoke Russian. Peter apologized for waking him and explained the situation. The employee asked what Zarina was saying.

“Yabloka,” Peter said.

“She wants an apple,” he replied.

The girls’ English steadily improved, and they thrived at St. Joseph Academy in San Marcos. The only thing they enjoyed more than school was frequent trips abroad with their parents.

“I think that’s how our love of education started,” Zarina said. “On every trip, our parents would make sure we went to a museum and learned something. Then we’d go back to class and could say, ‘Oh, I saw that.’ We could make a connection.”

When it came time to choose a college, CSUSM was an easy choice. Though Peter and Sylvia each earned a doctorate in physical chemistry from UC San Diego – and Sylvia also completed her undergraduate work there – they encouraged their daughters to attend CSUSM, where they thought a smaller-college experience would be beneficial.

It was a prescient decision. Malika and Madina credit chemistry professor Jackie Trischman for providing critical mentorship throughout their time at CSUSM.

Laurie Schmelzer, the director of student services for the College of Science and Mathematics, also proved instrumental in Malika’s success at CSUSM, virtually from day one. Malika met Schmelzer through her freshman GEL Chemistry & Biochemistry Learning Community course, and Schmelzer helped Malika develop the confidence to take on leadership roles in events like Super STEM Saturday.

“She was so shy but always had questions about what needed to be done before the next class, who she should talk to about advising,” Schmelzer said. “It was obvious that she was going to make the most of her college experience, and she jumped right in.

“She has been an amazing mentor to her two sisters, and that compassion carries over into every aspect of her life. I’m going to greatly miss her visits to my office and spending time with her at outreach events, but I can’t wait to see what she does next.”

Malika is hoping to work as a certified nursing assistant before starting preparations for nursing school. She hopes to enroll in CSUSM’s Accelerated Bachelor of Science in Nursing program in spring 2020.

Malika learned about compassion and caring at a young age, and it remains at the forefront of everything she does.

“I believe that God has a plan for everyone,” Malika said. “It might not be the plan we are envisioning, but we should always be grateful for what we have because we never know when it’s going to be taken from us. God has been a huge part of my life. I feel like being adopted was part of his plan.

“My parents have provided us with unconditional love and support. They’ve been there through the hard times. It sounds clichéd, but they’re my heroes. They’ve given me a second chance in life, one I’ll never take for granted.”

Matt Walsh was only 14 years old but had endured a lifetime of abuse at the hands of a woman who had adopted him from the foster care system when he was an infant. Now he was headed back to foster care, as soon as the social workers arrived at the home of the Escondido family that had taken him in temporarily.  

Tom and Kim Zarro, the parents of that family, had a different idea. They already had two children and weren’t exactly looking for a third. But their faith wouldn’t allow them to send Walsh away. 

“I’ll never forget my wife’s words,” Tom Zarro said. “She looked at me and said, ‘How can we go to church on Sunday and let this boy go back to the foster system?’ And it absolutely cut me like a knife. I had no answer.” 

Walsh stayed. In a nurturing environment for the first time in his life, he thrived. With the help of ACE Scholars Services, Cal State San Marcos’ unique program for former foster youth, he attended the university and developed into a leader, even becoming student body president by his senior year. 

Now 27 and working for his adoptive father’s transportation company, Walsh is in position to give back, and he’s doing just that. This spring, for the third time, he will hand out a $500 cash award to the ACE Scholars graduate whom he deems the most outstanding. The award is named after Tom and Kim Zarro. 

“It’s in honor of them because I wouldn’t be here without them,” Walsh said. “It’s my gift to honor them and my family.” 

Tumultuous childhood

Walsh was essentially born into foster care. He doesn’t know anything about his birth parents, and doesn’t care to. He was adopted at age 2 by a single mother who was far from benevolent.

She was addicted to drugs and alcohol. She was physically and emotionally abusive. Walsh remembers being homeless for most of his youth – living out of cars and hotels throughout North County. He missed a disturbing amount of school.

“It was just me and her,” he said. “She didn’t work. She was on disability and got a check from the government for having a foster kid.

“There was no redeeming factor, like she was trying her best. There was no silver lining. She was just a very unhealthy and very bad person.”

Walsh didn’t feel empowered to do anything about his predicament until he reached Rincon Middle School in Escondido. He finally acquired a good group of friends from good families, and they all told him the same thing: What your mother does isn’t normal, Matt.

So on the day after his 14th birthday, in the spring of his eighth-grade year, Walsh spilled his guts to the school counselor – everything about his mom, about her drug abuse, about his bruises and scars. After school officials intervened, he was removed from his mother’s care and sent to Polinsky Children’s Center, a San Diego facility for the temporary emergency shelter of children who must be separated from their families for their own safety.

Following a short spell at the center, he ended up staying with the family of a friend from Rincon. The Zarros lived in the same Escondido neighborhood, and Walsh soon became even closer friends with their son, Taylor, who was one year younger. He gradually began to spend less time with the family that first took him in and more time with the Zarros.

In the summer of 2005, with Walsh facing a trip back to Polinsky, Tom and Kim made their fateful decision.

“The social workers showed up, but at the end of the day, we couldn’t send Matt back,” Tom said. “We asked if we could just be his foster parents, and the state fast-tracked the process. That was the beginning of the end of Matt’s foster life.”

Assimilating another teenager, especially a badly scarred one, into an established family didn’t come without struggles, however. Walsh had absorbed so much abuse that he slept with a baseball bat. He was angry, introverted and malnourished.

The Zarros pulled him out of public school and enrolled him at Calvin Christian. They put him in counseling and immersed him in their already-active lives, from sports to youth ministry through their church. Just as importantly, their two children, Taylor and Devan, welcomed Walsh into the family with open arms.

“It was probably six months to a year before we said, ‘OK, we don’t have a bad apple here. We have an opportunity to really make a difference and impact this kid, so we will stay the course,’ ” Tom said.

After graduating from Escondido Charter High, Walsh chose CSUSM because he liked the teaching program. Even though he lived nearby in Escondido, he opted to eschew commuting and move into the dorms. It was a sign of his desire to throw himself into campus life, and that’s just what he did.

Reinventing himself as a bubbly people person, Walsh made an immediate impression at the ACE Scholars welcome dinner in his freshman year.

“Students were getting up and introducing themselves, and there’s Matt – he had very bushy hair, barefoot – talking about the fact that his goal in life was to become vice president,” said Jim Mickelson, the director of ACE Scholars Services. “Everybody was like, ‘Why vice president?’ He said it’s the best job because you get to do different things without all the pressure and responsibility. I had to chuckle.”

While Walsh grew more and more involved at CSUSM – he joined the Sigma Alpha Epsilon fraternity and became a resident adviser, in addition to his prominent role in Associated Students, Inc. – he grew more and more appreciative of the work of ACE, even though he rarely benefited from it. After all, throughout high school, he was part of a supportive family with financial means.

“I’m always trying to draw attention to ACE Scholars,” Walsh said. “When I was student body president, my big goals were to talk about veterans and talk about foster youth.”

CSUSM still close at heart

Walsh graduated from CSUSM in 2014 with a double major in social science and political science, but he has hardly left the university in his past.

The chapter adviser of SAE, he’s on campus for meetings at least once a week. When he heard in late September that Mickelson would be retiring at the end of the current school year, he brought lunch over for the entire ACE office. Every December, he drops off holiday cheesecakes to select people on campus.

He left his job as executive director of the Republican Party of Orange County last year – tired of heightened partisan rancor, he now works in operations for his father’s company, Cargo Management Group – but he’s still a politician at heart.

“I think he’d make a great employee if there was the right spot on campus because he just loves this place,” Mickelson said.

Recently, that has meant translating his passion into action. Walsh himself was recognized as the outstanding ACE graduate in 2014, and he decided to resurrect the award after it went away a few years later. Mickelson and his staff make recommendations, and Walsh picks the winner. He envisions it as a cash prize with “no strings attached.”

“Buy a PlayStation, go to Vegas, pay off debt, do whatever you gotta do,” Walsh said. “It’s a nice gift to give someone, like ‘Hey, you made it through college, you did what 98.5 percent of those out there like you will not do. You truly made it.’”

Given his abject upbringing, Walsh, too, has truly made it. And he’ll never stop paying tribute to those who helped make his transformation possible.

“These are two people who already had two children, definitely didn’t need more stress in their life,” he said. “They did what was right and said, ‘Here’s a kid who could use our help. What kind of people would we call ourselves if we turned him away.’

“If that story is the motivation for other people to give, then that would be the goal.”

Teusch failed most of her high school classes as a freshman and sophomore. She spent her final two years of high school transitioning to a new school, a new living situation and trying to complete her normal coursework while simultaneously making up for the classes she flunked.

“I wasn’t one of those students who was saying, ‘Let’s do college applications,’ ” Teusch said.

But nearly 10 years later, Teusch has her bachelor’s. She graduated from Cal State San Marcos at the end of the fall semester with a degree in sociology and has already started work toward her Master of Social Work through Arizona State’s online program.

Teusch is grateful for many things on the path to her degree. For the support of ACE Scholars Services. For extra financial assistance through a Pardee Foundation Scholarship. And certainly for her son, Javius, who inspired her pursuit of a bachelor’s and master’s.

“Tiffany is one of the most dedicated and hard-working individuals I have had the opportunity to work with,” said Leigh Quijada, coordinator/counselor for ACE Scholars Services, which supports former foster youth at CSUSM.

“She excelled in her academics at CSUSM all while raising her young son and growing both personally and professionally. She has overcome challenges with such positivity and resourcefulness.”

Teusch grew up in Julian, a town of about 1,500 an hour east of CSUSM. Her parents both struggled with drugs, and her mother left when Teusch was still a toddler. By the time she started high school, she was mostly taking care of herself. School wasn’t a priority, and her grades suffered as she attended sporadically.

“I was kind of on my own,” Teusch said. “I was responsible and I was working, but I was also partying a lot. It’s a very small town, so there’s really nothing else to do. I was just partying a lot and drinking a lot and smoking a lot, which I didn’t even really like. I don’t like being high, so I don’t know why I was doing that. I think it was just an escape or something to do.”

Teusch stopped drinking and smoking before the end of her sophomore year. She stopped showing up at parties. She focused on doing better. But as summer vacation was about to begin, life took a dramatic turn for Teusch and her younger brother.

Someone at her school called Child Protective Services.

“They said, ‘They’re not going to survive summer at home when they’re not coming to school,’ ” Teusch said.

Teusch spent a few months in a foster home before being placed in San Pasqual Academy, a residential education campus in Escondido for foster teens. Teusch spent her days in school, her afternoons working and her nights at an adult school to make up the classes she had failed.

During her post-high school transition to a housing program, she learned about financial aid for college and decided to take a few classes at Palomar College. Teusch took a break from Palomar to obtain a certificate in medical billing and insurance coding from UEI College, which offers vocational and trade school programs, so she could better support herself. At 23, she learned she was pregnant. Looming parenthood fueled her desire to finish her associate degree and transfer to CSUSM to complete her bachelor’s.

Juggling motherhood, school and work was challenging. But ACE provided a strong support system, and the Pardee Foundation Scholarship, awarded to students with a financial need who have at least a 3.25 grade-point average, alleviated some of the financial stress.

“The scholarship was very helpful since I couldn’t work as much,” Teusch said. “It really helped cover the gap between what I made at work and financial aid.”

But Teusch faced another unexpected challenge. For the first time, she was starting to understand how the difficulties she faced as a child were impacting her as an adult.

“I don’t think that I really felt my struggle until I was an adult,” she said. “I didn’t feel all the internal stuff, the depression and anxiety. I didn’t have a name to put to it. I just kind of lived through it. I think when I had my son is when I realized, ‘OK, there’s some stuff going on here.’ ”

Teusch credits CSUSM’s Student Health and Counseling Services for helping her work through those issues. Her goal is to pursue a career in clinical therapy after receiving her Master of Social Work.

She has already been working to help others, including students at a familiar place. Almost a decade after graduating from San Pasqual Academy, Teusch returned last fall to work as a peer mentor.

“One of their favorite things to throw out is, ‘You don’t know what I’m going through.’ And I say, ‘Actually, I do,’ ” Teusch said. “They can’t use that with me. They realize, ‘Here’s someone who left and has come back, and so they are here for me.’ I think it’s a big deal for them.

“I know when I was there, a lot of people who came back were just looking for services, looking for housing, looking for help. They were kind of struggling. I’ve had my own struggles, too, but I think that being able to come back and show them that you can succeed is a big deal.”

Mannino had been on the advisory council to President Karen Haynes for more than five years, dating back to her decades-long role as the CEO of the Vista Community Clinic. Harris, Mannino’s husband of almost 30 years, had loaned a piece of his stone artwork to the university.  

The longtime residents of North County had watched CSUSM spring up from nothing – Mannino still remembers the site near a Jerome’s furniture store – and become increasingly impressed by its evolution into a pillar of the region. 

On this day, however, the couple’s connection to the university grew more personal. As they listened to the inspiring speech of Julius Williams, a former foster child turned ACE Scholar, they thought of their own adopted daughter, whom Mannino took in as a foster child during her first marriage. They thought of how much Kim Mannino Sun could have benefited from something like ACE, CSUSM’s unique program that supports former foster youth. 

“She’s been very successful in her life, but she struggled in school, and if there had been something like ACE for her, I think she might have finished high school and gone to college,” Mannino said. “So when we heard Julius speak, we were really moved and inspired by him.” 

Mannino and Harris returned to their home in Vista, talked it over, and decided that they wanted to start giving more than time and art to the university. It was the start of a new phase of a wonderful relationship. 

The couple made a five-year pledge to fund a working scholarship for an ACE student, a commitment that they renewed in 2018 for five more years. Last fall, too, they increased the amount of their legacy gift, which will go to ACE as well as to the new engineering program and Veterans Services. 

The latter two initiatives also are near and dear to the couple’s hearts. Harris was a professional engineer for almost 40 years before being reborn as an artist late in life, and he grew up as an Air Force brat whose family moved all over the world because of his father’s job.  

“While the ACE program was important for both of us – maybe more for Barbara than me initially – I wanted something that I could direct some of my attention to,” Harris said. “That’s where the engineering and veterans component came from. Based on what the university is doing, it seems to be a good fit.” 

The stepped-up level of donating to CSUSM fits into a general pattern of giving back for the couple. After retiring in 2012 from a 30-year career running the nonprofit Vista Community Clinic – which she expanded from a shoestring organization with a budget of $500,000 and a staff of 30 to a regional fixture with a budget of $35 million and a staff of 530 – Mannino threw herself into volunteering.  

A dog lover who has three mixed breed rescues, she began giving her time to the San Diego Humane Society, the Animal Rescue Resource Foundation and the county Department of Animal Services. She read to second- and third-graders through the Oasis program at Olive Elementary School in Vista. She continued her work as a coach for other CEOs and nonprofit leaders as part of the Fieldstone Leadership Network. 

And in December 2017, she heightened her engagement by joining the CSUSM Foundation Board. 

“When I retired, I didn’t want to be responsible,” Mannino said. “I was asked to be on several boards, and I said no. I really did just want to walk dogs, read to kids, and listen, but I didn’t want to have to make decisions. After five years, I was ready to take a step back in, and I was fortunate that Cal State San Marcos came forward with the foundation opportunity.” 

As for Harris, he has loaned to CSUSM indefinitely a large alabaster sculpture that sits in the McMahan House, and more could be in the offing. About 60 of his pieces decorate the inside and outside of the couple’s Vista house, in the same neighborhood where President Haynes and Jim Mickelson, her husband and the director of ACE, live. 

“I’ve encouraged him to leave some of his pieces to the university,” Mannino said. “There are enough of them to go around, and they’re beautiful.”  

Besides their philanthropy and other retirement pursuits, Mannino and Harris are avid travelers who have been on more than 50 vacations in the last six years alone. They consider their most memorable experience to be a trip to San Ignacio Lagoon in Baja California, a remote spot that’s the only place in the world where humans can have physical contact with whales. 

“There were 331 whales in the lagoon when we went, and 10 percent of them are friendly,” Mannino said. “They bring their babies up to the boat, and you can touch and kiss them. There’s nothing else like it.” 

The couple doesn’t have any children together, though they treasure their time with Kim and their two adult grandkids, Kimberly and Kevin. They both live in the South, along with Kim, but for most of her life, Kimberly, now 30 and the mother of a 4-year-old boy, would stay with Mannino and Harris in North County for the entire summer. 

“She developed her own circle of friends, she worked at the clinic, and really became part of our West Coast family,” Harris said. “It was a joy.” 

The couple was unsuccessful at convincing their granddaughter to attend CSUSM, but they are still dorm parents, in a sense. The niece of Mannino’s son-in-law is a junior from Malaysia whom Mannino and Harris helped to move into her apartment. 

It’s just another tie that binds them to CSUSM. 

“It’s really been a miracle because I never expected it to grow like it did,” Mannino said. “One of the things that really impresses us about the university is that it’s such a community gem and is really focused on strengthening and building the community. 

“Choosing to give to Cal State San Marcos and being able to further the education of people who might not otherwise have had the opportunity to go to college, and one day will be able to give back tenfold, is a legacy that my husband and I are very proud of.”  

College students, or just young people in general, like to think of themselves as invincible, as immortal. The notion of death is too distant, too hypothetical, too unpleasant.  

But end-of-life conversations don’t have to be only about dying. They can also be about living – specifically how you want to live. 

This is where WGYLM comes in. The alphabet-soup acronym stands for “What Gives Your Life Meaning?” and it’s an annual campaign at Cal State San Marcos to increase awareness about palliative care and the importance of aligning health-care decisions with your personal values. 

The idea is to get people thinking and talking about what is important in their lives, as a means of ensuring that loved ones know what to do in the event of a serious illness or accident – which, after all, can strike at any age, without warning. 

The creators of WGYLM hope that those difficult discussions lead to action in the form of signing an advance directive, a legal document that has two components to it. First, you name a health care advocate who will speak for you if you become incapacitated and can’t speak for yourself.  

Second, you specify the kinds of care that you do and do not approve. Do you want CPR? Do you want hydration? Do you want to be on a breathing apparatus?  

It’s recommended that anyone over the age of 18 fill out an advance directive. According to national statistics, though, 89 percent of college students and 74 percent of adults haven’t done so. 

“It’s important that people have the conversation,” said Sharon Hamill, the faculty director of the CSU Institute for Palliative Care at Cal State San Marcos. “Last spring, we had a campaign on campus, and part of it was: Will you pledge to have a conversation about what’s important to you? We’re not going to get a ton of people signing advance directives because it’s really personal, and it usually takes people a couple of times before they’re comfortable doing it. But we want the conversation started.” 

Hamill recalled a talk with a female student about which family member she would name on her advance directive. The student said she would name her father, not her mother, because her mother wouldn’t let her die, no matter how many machines she was hooked up to and for how long. 

Hamill told the student, “If you feel that way, it’s important that you talk with your mom about it now. You don’t want her finding out about that in an emergency room.” 

Hamill says she encourages students to have tough conversations about quality of life and end-of-life decisions over the holidays, when families congregate together. For Christmas, she planned to give an advance directive to each of her three sons – ages 28, 26 and 21 – and their gift to her would be filling it out and giving it to their doctor.  

“My youngest said, ‘You know, Mom, it just makes me go all existential,’ ” Hamill said. “I replied, ‘Well, it should.’ These are the kinds of things you need to let people know so that if, God forbid, something happens, we’re able to act in accordance with what you would have wanted.  

“If you don’t ever tell anybody, then what are you going to do?” 

Forward Together, the University’s first comprehensive fundraising campaign, was a bold ambition. Some wondered if CSUSM aimed too high when setting a goal of raising $50 million.

“We’re one of the youngest Cal State University campuses in the system, and to try and do a campaign at such a young age, well, some saw that as being risky,” said Jennifer Milo, CSUSM’s athletic director. “We don’t have the alumni base yet, but it still was very successful.”

The naysayers didn’t understand the drive of an unrelenting Milo and the steely leadership of CSUSM President Karen Hayes. They were two of the forces behind securing additional scholarship funds for student-athletes, which was a requirement for the Cougars to earn NCAA Division II status.

“Scholarship money is the lifeblood of any program,” said CSUSM women’s basketball coach Renee Jimenez. “They always say, ‘It's the Jimmys and Joes and not the Xs and Os.’ But if you don't have the resources to recruit really good kids and student-athletes, you are definitely at a disadvantage.”

That drawback was underscored when the Cougars departed the NAIA and moved up to the NCAA. Suddenly, CSUSM was competing against different, and better, opponents.

To raise its game meant raising money, and the Cougars’ administration and coaches rolled up their sleeves and did just that. But their work was only a winner because of the community support from people keen on what’s happening at the growing University.

With its eyes on competing for national championships, it’s a natural strategy to fill the coffers toward that aspiration.

“The best teams in the country are the teams with the best scholarships,” CSUSM men's basketball coach B.J. Foster said. “That’s just the way it goes.”

CSUSM coaches no longer need to worry about leaving a recruit’s home concerned about losing another prized student-athlete because of scholarship limitations.

Before the success of the Forward Together campaign, coaches often chased down a recruit only to face them as an opponent during the season.

“That is a very frustrating thing, there is no question about that,” Foster said. “Because of the great location of the school and with the great academic programs that we have here, we have that advantage to go ahead and rival those schools.

“But when you are talking about recruiting against private schools, and even some in our league that are able to offer housing, meals and everything, it's going to trump a beautiful school with great academics because they don’t have to pay for anything.”

Thanks to Forward Together, that’s no longer the case.

“It levels the playing field once that happens and it just gives us more options in recruiting where you can weather an injury or two, which is invariably going to happen,” Foster said.

Foster has held down the fort just fine with limited funds. He can point to having the California Collegiate Athletic Association player of the year in 2017-18 and others on the all-conference first and second teams. But any squad is only as good as its depth, and that was where Foster would see the biggest disadvantage because of limited scholarship funds for his players.

“We’ve had those really good players, but after those three or four guys a lot of the guys were walk-ons or competing on a partial scholarship. If you can put together five or six players the caliber of our best three last year, who knows, you might be competing on the national stage. But when you couldn't do that with your recruiting, that was a very frustrating thing.”

Angst has transitioned to eagerness as a bigger pot of scholarship money continues to transform an athletic program that is already full-steam ahead.

“We’ve made huge strides since 2009 in our department,” Milo said. “The growth in the last nine years has obviously been incredible with our transition to the NCAA. But we wanted to go after the best and brightest student-athletes, so we put our head down in going to work to grow our scholarship capacity.”

The program has been heaven sent for coaches, who can now recruit players who once seemed off-limits.

“I think you are going to see a big jump in performances this year, and in some ways it has nothing to do with what I do as a coach or what Jen does as an administrator,” Jimenez said. “It’s about getting the talent, which Forward Together allows us to do. It’s hard when you have to go into a living room and beg someone to come when you can’t give them what another school is offering them. That is embarrassing for the coaches.”

That’s no longer a concern for CSUSM coaches.

“We can say, ‘Hey, this is what we are going to give you. We can do it in a great location and you will get a fantastic education and a first-class basketball experience,’ ” Jimenez said. “It’s hard turning down good players, and now we feel like we can compete for those players by giving them an offer they can't say no to.”

That so many people said, “Yes” when approached by CSUSM to enhance Forward Together has been revealing.

“For the school to be so young and to see how quickly the community and the donors have grasped on to athletics and helped raise scholarship money is exciting,” Jimenez said. “They are the ones that have their hand prints all over our program.

“It takes everybody to try and win a national championship and everyone has to be involved, from the donors to the administrators to the coaches and the players.”

It’s an endeavor in which everyone is pulling in the same direction on the athletic rope. Those supplying the bang for the athletic buck can’t be overlooked.

“I think it shows that we have finally arrived,” Milo said. “Some of the donors might not even have an allegiance to CSUSM, but their involvement shows that people are ready to invest in our school. They can see the amazing education the students are getting and then believe in the vision presented by President Haynes.

“This might seem like an overnight success, but it has taken a lot of hard work to reach where we are today. Our athletic funding has gone from $150,000 to more than $800,000, but it has taken a lot of work. We’ve gone from people saying, ‘Who is Cal State University San Marcos?’ to us preserving and educating people on who we are and what we do. A lot of people didn’t know about us.”

The Cougars hurdled some of those obstacles with the resounding success of Forward Together.

“Everybody wants to be part of something special,” Foster said. “These additional funds will help build the school spirit and pride in the university. We're going to have something here that the alumni and the community can really sink their teeth into.”

Sixteen students from sixth through eighth grades line up outside a classroom door 15 minutes before the lesson is to begin at the middle school in Escondido. The regular school day is over, so they don’t have to be here. They want to be here. 

They want to see, and learn from, Emmanuel. 

Soon, Emmanuel Morales, a senior chemistry major at Cal State San Marcos, arrives along with a fellow STEM ambassador from the university’s Center for Research and Engagement in STEM Education (CRESE). Wearing a white CSUSM T-shirt with the words “Learn STEM Lead STEM,” he starts unpacking his supplies and informing the students about that week’s assignment: They will create a robotic arm out of ordinary household supplies like cardboard, plastic straws, popsicle sticks and string.  

“This is a semi-difficult project,” Emmanuel tells the middle-schoolers. “The idea is to simulate the function of tendons in the hand and wrist.” 

As he circulates around the room over the next hour, helping groups of two and three with their construction at separate tables, it’s clear that Emmanuel has earned the students’ respect with his soft-spoken, patient demeanor. 

“The kids are very attached to him,” said Sophia Gonzalez, an English teacher at Del Dios who supervises the weekly STEM sessions. “He doesn’t say a whole lot, but he’s very open with them and doesn’t really dictate; he just offers his expertise or alternate solutions. Today, they were all looking forward to him. They enjoy coming here, and I think it’s because of how he interacts with them.” 

Emmanuel is in his third year as a STEM ambassador, one of the senior members of a group of about 20 CSUSM undergraduate science students who fan out weekly to 12 middle schools across the San Marcos, Escondido and Vista school districts. They do their work through a program called Mobile Making – funded by a five-year grant from the National Science Foundation, as well as a donation from Carlsbad-based Nordson – the purpose of which is to bring design-based, STEM-related activities to underprivileged schools that wouldn’t otherwise have exposure to such disciplines. 

Twice a week, Emmanuel stops by the CRESE center in the QUAD building – it’s nicknamed the STEMbassy – to load up on the materials that he’ll need for that day’s project. Besides the robotic arm, among the activities that STEM ambassadors (who also attend Saturday training sessions once every few weeks) assist students with are building basic robots with toothbrushes and cell-phone motors, creating solar-powered vehicles from recycled materials, and powering motors and buzzers with conductive Play-Doh. 

It’s all part of a nationwide trend toward the lost art of making things. Makerspaces are popping up in schools around the country – CSUSM is considering installing one – and Mobile Making is just a way to take the same concept on the road. 

“Making in general is a big movement right now,” said April Nelson, the program director for CRESE. “The mobile part is unique to us. We are definitely one of the schools leading the charge on this, and we’d like to be more of an example.” 

The Emmanuel of the age of the students he’s mentoring now would scarcely recognize the Emmanuel of today. Back then, not only was he not doing STEM activities at school, but he didn’t even know what STEM was.

He was raised in a part of Vista where, he says, “not many people think about college. Most people just want to get a job and start making money.”

Emmanuel was one of those people. He lacked confidence in his intelligence and academic potential. He switched from Rancho Buena Vista to Vista High after his sophomore year, and didn’t have many friends at the new school. And on the home front, his dad temporarily moved out of the house during his high school years, leaving him without a father figure during that crucial, angst-ridden stage of development.

That was when the man Emmanuel still refers to simply as Mr. Robinson entered the picture. Mark Robinson is a Vista High science teacher who’s in his 25th and final year at the school – he plans to retire this spring to focus on his prosperous side venture of winemaking.

Emmanuel took Robinson’s chemistry class as a junior, and something immediately clicked. He discovered that, unlike with other subjects, chemistry came easily to him. More importantly, he found in Robinson an adult figure who believed in him, who thought he was smart, who thought he was special.

“He was a very big influence for me,” Emmanuel said. “He always told me, ‘You’re a fantastic student to have around here, you’re picking up this chemistry very quickly.’ It felt good hearing that from him.”

Robinson, like Emmanuel a first-generation college student whose father wasn’t present in his life, saw in Emmanuel a kindred spirit. They frequently would sit and talk after class and after school about topics far beyond just chemistry.

“He was an incredibly fascinating human being,” Robinson said. “He was serious about the subject matters, but he was way more interesting after class. He had so many ideas, a gazillion little hypotheses in his head. We would talk about anything and everything – philosophical things, science things, earth things, botany, ethnobotany, you name it. If you ask me to pick a word to describe him, it would be curious. He has a curious mind. He’s blessed.”

Emmanuel liked Robinson so much that he proceeded to take his anatomy class as a senior. He went from getting Bs and Cs in most classes to taking AP courses. At Robinson’s urging, he began thinking about college for the first time.

“When I graduated, he told me he was very proud of me,” Emmanuel said. “He would jokingly say, ‘If I could adopt you, I would.’ ”

After he arrived at CSUSM, Emmanuel started looking for opportunities to teach, to take Robinson’s influential tutelage and pay it forward. When he learned about the STEM ambassador program, he knew he had found the perfect avenue.

“The best part is seeing the students’ smiles and knowing that I taught them something,” Emmanuel said, “that they’ll go home and think about trying to be a STEM student.”

Emmanuel used to aspire to be a high school science teacher like Robinson, but Robinson himself convinced him to aim higher. Emmanuel now says he wants to get a job at a company like Viasat or Genentech and try to earn a master’s degree while working.

Asked if he thinks of himself as a Mr. Robinson for the middle-schoolers, Emmanuel smiles.

“That’s something I can take pride in,” he said. “He was very highly looked upon at our school, and I want to be looked at that way as well. The students look up to me; my coworkers look up to me.

“It’s great to think that all this happened because he told me I should continue going to school and get an education.”

Here’s to you, Mr. Robinson.

The pace rarely waned during Giving Day at Cal State San Marcos on Nov. 27. Administrators gave. Faculty gave. Students gave. Alumni gave. Community members gave. All around campus, people could be spotted wearing blue heart stickers, a telltale symbol of the spirit of generosity at the university. 

By the time the 1,488th and final gift was registered at 11:59 p.m., CSUSM – with the help of matching gifts from Jack Raymond, chair of the university’s Foundation Board – had raised $448,955 in a single day. That’s an astounding increase of 2,877 percent over the inaugural Giving Day three years earlier. 

When President Karen Haynes announced the launch of CSUSM’s first comprehensive fundraising campaign at the University Student Union ballroom in September 2015, surely there were skeptics. How could a university that only recently had celebrated its 25th birthday hope to raise $50 million, which was double the goal that initially had been proposed by the Foundation Board? Most comprehensive campaigns are built chiefly on the strength of alumni, after all, and CSUSM – as young as it is – simply doesn’t have a vast pool. 

The remarkable growth of Giving Day, however, is just one of the many signs that what CSUSM lacks in age, it more than makes up for in ambition. Haynes’ financial target for the Forward Together campaign might have sounded audacious to outsiders, but it was par for the course to anyone familiar with this campus and its leader. 

“I am fairly comfortable with bold goals if I think that they are attainable,” Haynes said. “Yes, it was a little scary, but it pushed all of us to stretch to say it is possible. I just thought the $50 million number felt right for this campus and the way we acted.” 

As it turned out, the $50 million figure not only was attainable, but it was surpassable. When Forward Together officially ended as the calendar turned to 2019, the campaign had blown past its objective, ultimately landing on $55,035,210 as the amount raised. 

How impressive is that? Consider that CSUSM raised more in the seven years of the campaign than it had in the first 21 years of its existence combined. Consider that nearly three-fourths of the university’s alumni graduated during Haynes’ tenure as president. 

It’s difficult to establish with certainty, but CSUSM does have good reason to boast that it’s the youngest university in the nation to undertake such an ambitious fundraising challenge at such a young age. 

And if not in the nation, it’s certainly the youngest in the 23-campus California State University system. As if inspired by the boldness of CSUSM, exactly a year after the public launch of Forward Together, Cal State San Bernardino – a university then twice as old as CSUSM – announced that it was embarking on its own $50 million campaign. The very next month, Cal State East Bay – a school that was more than twice as old and has an alumni base nearly three times as large – set off on a $60 million campaign. 

“I think some of them got the impetus, whether their presidents would admit it or not, to say, for example, ‘Why can’t East Bay do it at 60 years for $60 million?’ ” Haynes said. “So there was a little skepticism around the CSU about our campaign, but there were some that thought, ‘Wow, we’ve never done it and we’re 60 years old, we’re 80 years old.’ ” 

Because of its limited institutional history, Cal State San Marcos approached the campaign in its own youthful, scrappy, entrepreneurial manner – what might be called the “CSUSM way.” Most universities carefully arrive at a campaign goal figure by hiring a council that does an assessment based on its donor base. CSUSM did it based on a round, impressive number thrown out by its president during a Foundation Board retreat in 2012. 

“The meeting where we came up with the dollar amount, I wouldn’t recommend that for other institutions,” said Cathy Baur, vice president for University Advancement. “But it says a lot about our fortitude, our willingness to take a gamble and know that we have a good story to tell and have such strong support in the region that we could actually make it happen.” 

Most universities structure campaigns around a series of major gifts from well-heeled alumni. CSUSM did receive a number of donations of at least $1 million, but Forward Together would not have succeeded without the committed participation of a veritable army of staff, faculty, students, alumni and community members making sometimes small but meaningful contributions.

The number of gifts in the campaign was almost 26,000, and the average gift size was about $2,200. That’s approximately half the amount of the average gift size for San Diego State during its recent comprehensive campaign.

“We always viewed this campaign as the one to prepare us for the next campaign,” Baur said. “Part of our goal was to build and work on that culture of philanthropy. We really feel like we have done a good job with that. Every single senior manager on this campus contributed to the campaign through either a one-time gift or a multiyear pledge. I think that’s indicative of the commitment people have to this university.”

Major fundraising campaigns, of course, didn’t used to be the province of CSU schools, which only a couple of decades ago received about 80 percent of the money for operating costs from the state. That number has fallen to 55 percent, with student tuition and fees accounting for the rest. Yet CSUSM continues to grow, both in students and in stature, and the demand for cutting-edge programs and services from the surrounding region only intensifies.

That desire for transformational change in the face of ongoing financial belt-tightening by the state was the motivation for Forward Together, which was built around the three pillars of “Preparing Tomorrow’s Leaders,” “Building Great Communities” and “Solving Critical Issues.”

“In my early years in this business, there were people who would say, ‘I don’t know what you suits are doing here, but if you’re raising money, don’t raise it for my program,’ ” said Kyle Button, the associate vice president of development, who was recruited by CSUSM to help run the campaign in 2014, a year before the public launch.

“The idea was that they’d never get the money back from the provost or the state if they saw their program as appealing to private support. We don’t hear that so much anymore. The game has changed. We’re now a part of doing business.”

Once the campaign priorities were established, it was time to venture out into the philanthropic community and do a little storytelling. And CSUSM knew it had good stories to tell.

Katherine Kantardjieff had come to CSUSM in 2011 from Cal State Fullerton, where she had gained experience in fundraising as a chemistry professor. In her new position as dean of the College of Science and Mathematics, she was sent on something of a road show around San Diego with a development officer, meeting with potential donors and heralding the innovative people and programs in her college. She came armed with so-called “wow” statements, and perhaps her most powerful one was about CSUSM’s proposed EngiBeering certificate program that would explore the science and engineering behind brewing craft beer – a powerful message in San Diego, which has come to be nicknamed the “Capital of Craft.”

“The end of the wow statement was, ‘Come join us and help us fuel a billion-dollar industry because life is too short for bad beer,’ ” Kantardjieff said. “It was all about getting people’s attention and making them feel good and making them want to know more.”

Kantardjieff also put together an advisory council in 2012 composed of “a team of people that was chomping at the bit to champion for this university.” One of the members was Simon Kuo, the vice president of corporate quality for Viasat, and it was partly through the cultivation of that relationship that CSUSM in early 2018 received $1.5 million from the Carlsbad-based global communications company (along with several employees) to become the founding partner of the university’s engineering program.

“It’s not that easy to fundraise. You have to have a compelling vision,” Kantardjieff said. “When it comes to engineering, the reason we got a donation from Viasat is that the community believes we can do this. We have their trust, we have their confidence. They know we can deliver.”

The gift from Viasat was far from the only one that will cause real and lasting change at CSUSM. Jan and Esther Stearns donated $1 million to ACE Scholars Services, the university’s one-of-a-kind program to support former foster youth. The Epstein Family Foundation gave $1 million toward a much-needed physical expansion of CSUSM’s Veterans Center. A small group of donors made it possible for the university to become an All-Steinway School, a designation held by fewer than 200 colleges, universities and conservatories worldwide. And for the first time in the 2017-18 academic year, more than a million dollars was dispersed to students in privately funded scholarships.

“Those are the kinds of quantum leaps that you want to create through a comprehensive campaign,” Button said. “The results are visible and palpable and real, and that does make a good case in the future for the next campaign of support.”

When the quiet phase of Forward Together was launched in 2012, Raymond wondered if the $50 million campaign goal might be a stretch for such a young University. But Raymond, a longtime supporter of CSUSM and chair of its Foundation Board, didn’t view that as a negative.

“There’s nothing wrong with stretch goals,” he said.

Plus, he knew CSUSM had a unique advantage – President Karen Haynes.

“Karen is the person who has made the sea change in the University,” Raymond said.

When the Foundation Board was determining the campaign goal in 2012, someone suggested $25 million to coincide with the university’s 25^th anniversary in 2015. Haynes, never one to shy away from bold goals, responded, “Why not $50 million?”

When the clock struck midnight on New Year’s Eve, it signaled the close of CSUSM’s campaign. The University didn’t just meet its ambitious $50 million goal, it crushed it. The campaign raised more than $55 million, funds that will help CSUSM continue to prepare tomorrow’s leaders, build great communities and solve critical issues for years to come.

Dan Epstein, who provided the gift that pushed CSUSM over the $50 million threshold, said Haynes’ leadership was critical in making the campaign a success.

“She was the driving force, and people got involved because of her,” said Epstein, who gave multiple gifts throughout the campaign, including $1 million that is allowing for a much-needed expansion of CSUSM’s Veterans Center.

“She’s been able to reach out to so many people in the community and gotten people behind the University’s mission, which is very clear – it is providing access to higher education for people who might not otherwise attend college.”

Seeing CSUSM work to expand access for underrepresented students resonated with numerous donors, and they credited Haynes for making that one of her primary goals upon her appointment as president in 2004.

“President Haynes has always struck me as a gracious and thoughtful leader, clear in her intent to serve the community, provide opportunities to students who may not otherwise have such access to education, and support the development of the ‘whole person,’ ” said Emilie Hersh, who serves on the Foundation Board and is an Executive in Residence for the College of Business Administration.

Julie Pardee first met Haynes and Jim Mickelson, Haynes’ husband and founder of CSUSM’s ACE Scholars Services, about a decade ago. Impressed by the education her son, Chris, and his wife, Natalie, received at CSUSM, Pardee wanted to help other students.

The Pardee Foundation Scholarship annually provides 50 awards of $2,000 to CSUSM students who show financial need and have a minimum 3.25 grade-point average. They later added a yearly gift to ACE, which supports former foster youth.

“Karen and Jim inspired us, and we’ve been thrilled to watch it continue to benefit the students who have received these benefits for over 10 years,” Pardee said. “Each year we receive personal letters from the recipients and are blessed by each one.

“Karen has grown CSUSM in creative and innovative ways. It’s been an honor to be part of her inspiring ways.”

The University’s growth was another common element that donors highlighted in describing the importance of Haynes’ leadership.

Ann Hunter-Welborn, another longtime supporter and a member of the University Council before CSUSM was founded, has seen the University’s growth from the beginning.

“For years, people referred to the three major universities in San Diego County,” Hunter-Welborn said. “I can’t tell you how many times I corrected people – ‘There are four!’ That correction is no longer necessary.

“Karen Haynes has provided the leadership that put CSUSM on the map. The University is firmly a part of the San Diego community, recognized for its offering of a sound education, for its contributions to the social fabric, and for its participation with the business community. Dr. Haynes’ enthusiasm is infectious, her wisdom is unbounded, and her drive for excellence is apparent in everything she does.”

It’s a sentiment echoed by Christy Wilson, the executive director of the Rancho Santa Fe Foundation.

“She’s brought a vibrancy to Cal State San Marcos,” said Wilson, who has attended every one of Haynes’ Report to the Community addresses. “People weren’t talking about CSUSM much before she arrived. It was there, but it wasn’t talked about a great deal. She’s brought a vibrancy and helped the campus feel more alive.

“She’s not afraid to lead and she’s not afraid to take risks. She takes a stand and she believes in it and executes on it.”

Haynes’ tenure as CSUSM president will end on June 30 when she retires. While the campaign may have ended, its success will leave a long-lasting legacy thanks in large part to Haynes’ leadership.

“She’s one of the most impactful presidents of an academic institution that I have ever known,” said Ruth Westreich, a longtime supporter of numerous CSUSM initiatives. “Her impact will live on.”

When Downie introduces herself as a craft beer historian, jaws drop and questions begin to pour in. It’s an unexpected title for a librarian, especially one who five years ago couldn’t stomach the taste of beer. While today she favors a good mead, stout or fruit sour over the iconic hoppy India Pale Ales of the region, she knows craft beer and is leading the effort to preserve its history, which dates back 150 years in the region.

From capturing that history to launching a first-of-its-kind EngiBeering™ program, beer initiatives are bubbling up at Cal State San Marcos.

A FLAVORFUL HISTORY
The first recorded brewery to pop on the scene in San Diego was Chollas Valley Brewery in 1868 by German immigrant Christian Dobler. Naturally, German-style lagers were the preferred brew at 5 cents a glass. Agriculture dominated the region’s industry and a small handful of breweries emerged in that first wave before Prohibition.

The second wave of craft beer in San Diego (1933-1983) brought mixed results and several false starts. Home winemaking was legalized, but not home brewing, which included the sale of supplies to make beer. At first, alcohol could only be served in restaurants, not bars or saloons in California. Confusion over government regulation and taxation stalled business. Four breweries came and went. Some closed operations, others moved north to Los Angeles.

For three decades, craft beer production disappeared in San Diego, unable to compete with brewery giants like Coors, Budweiser and Pabst Blue Ribbon.

In 1978, President Jimmy Carter signed legislation that permitted home brewing. By 1983, California legalized the sale of craft beer, ushering in the third and current wave of craft beer for San Diego.

Bolt Brewing opened in Fallbrook in 1987. Then came Old Columbia Brewery, the first craft brewery of Karl Strauss and his cousin, which was soon renamed Karl Strauss Brewing Company. It is the longest continuously open brewery in San Diego.

Downie points to a pivotal moment that may have clinched San Diego’s place in beer history. In 1997, a consortium of craft brewers came together to form the San Diego Brewers Guild.

“It was Greg Koch, the founder of Stone Brewing Co., who said, ‘We can work together or fail separately,’ and it feels apropos to say, but the rest is history,” Downie said. “One characteristic that has undeniably influenced the success of craft brewing in our region has been the genuine collaboration among craft brewers.”

Today, San Diego boasts the title of “Capital of Craft” with over 150 licensed brewers. And it’s a powerful economic engine, producing more than $870 million in output annually.

In August 2017, the University Library launched the Brewchive™, a comprehensive archive celebrating the San Diego craft brewing industry. The collection is one of only a handful of specialty archives nationwide focused solely on beer.

“They put their heart and soul into this industry and we want to make sure that history is preserved and celebrated,” said Dr. Jennifer Fabbi, dean of the CSUSM Library.

The initial idea for an archive to record and preserve San Diego brewing activity was at the suggestion of Char Booth, associate dean of the library and a home brewer.

Tap handles, growlers, beer lists, coasters, recipes, brewing logs, manifestos and marketing materials are all part of the growing collection of the Brewchive™. As the library collects and digitizes these historical documents and artifacts, it is also curating signature collections, including the Stone Brewing Co. Collection and Women in Craft. Oral histories told by homebrewers and professionals are also featured in the online archive.

“Our business students and the students enrolled in the upcoming EngiBeering™ program can learn from both the successes and failures the local breweries have gone through,” Downie said.

RAISE YOUR HAND AND RAISE YOUR GLASS
This fall, the University will welcome its inaugural cohort of students into the EngiBeering™ certificate program. The two-part certificate, or what’s referred to as a stackable certificate program, explores the science and business of craft brewing.

“Industry leaders need to fill this critical gap in their workforce,” said Dr. Jackie Trischman, biochemist and program director of EngiBeering™. “They need trained professionals who have business insight but also know the science of making exceptional craft beer.”

Some of the courses for the 18-month program include recipe development, sensory evaluation to identify flavors and beer quality (yes, students will actually drink beer), learning the brewery processes, the evolution of beer, brewing science and an internship. Unlike traditional classes, EngiBeering™ lab courses will happen on-site at local breweries. And most notably, the program’s teaching faculty are professionals currently working in the industry.

“It’s exciting to me because there is more science involved in beer production than people think,” Trischman said. “A brewer is a scientist.”

EngiBeering™ was developed by eight CSUSM faculty across three colleges in partnership with more than 12 brewers including alumni Kyle Adams ’13 of Prohibition Brewing Company and Mike Stevenson ’12 of Culver Beer Company.

“The brewing community is one of the most congenial and positive groups I have ever met,” Trischman said. “The love for their craft shines through their work, and it’s that same passion that built this program.”

THE CRAFT BUSINESS
As a prominent industry for the local economy, generating more than $100 million in tax revenue annually, craft brewing is a serious business. Measuring its impact and predicting its growth is in the hands of business researchers at CSUSM.

Since 2015, the College of Business Administration has published its semiannual San Diego Craft Brewer Confidence Index, a survey conducted in partnership with the San Diego Business Journal, that gauges local brewer confidence in the industry. The latest report, released in April, revealed that brewers continue to display an impressive level of optimism in their businesses. Nearly 64 percent expect to add employees and 32 percent expect their total barrel output to increase from 11 percent to 20 percent in the next year. Business confidence is a predictor of industry growth, according to researchers.

The college also produces an annual Economic Impact of Craft Breweries Report, in conjunction with the San Diego Brewers Guild and the San Diego North Economic Development Council, analyzing the impact of the industry on the region. On Oct. 10, the college will host the Craft Economic Summit, unveiling its latest findings and discussing trends and forecasts for the craft brewing industry.

“The industry is thriving,” said Ed Ashley, director of business community relations for the college. “Stone Brewing Co. grew up a nine-iron away from us and our campus has grown right alongside it. We share the heart of the brewers and the love for the craft.”

WHAT'S THE CATCH? A BASEBALL IN A BEER
Gabrielle DiMarco was simply enjoying a beer and a ballgame on June 5 at Petco Park.

While it was mostly a forgettable evening for the Padres, who lost 14-1 to the Atlanta Braves, it turned into a life-changing experience for Gabrielle when a foul ball landed in her beer cup.

That alone likely would have gotten Gabrielle on the nightly sports highlight shows. What followed made the Cal State San Marcos literature and writing studies student a social media sensation.

Gabrielle, with encouragement from the surrounding fans, proceeded to drink the entire beer with the baseball still firmly planted in the cup. Video from the moment went viral with Gabrielle even receiving marriage proposals from as far away as Australia.

“I’m going to keep it in that cup forever,” Gabrielle told The San Diego Union-Tribune. “I’m never taking it out. It’s a trophy.”

It was Oct. 9, 2013. Danika Garlotta ’06 can still recall what she was drinking as she and her husband Chris talked about wanting to travel the world but struggling to find the time. Somewhere between a Scotch Egg and an Old Fashioned, Chris turned to Danika and said, “Let’s take a sabbatical.” It was unexpected, unthinkable and completely exhilarating. Within three months, the couple quit their well-paying jobs, sold everything, rented out their house in San Francisco and said goodbye to family and friends as they boarded a one-way flight to Rome.

To ease her mother’s angst and assure her that she was not dead on the side of the road halfway across the world, Danika set up a blog to chronicle their adventures. Their plan was simple.

“We would do what we want, stay where we wanted, and if we didn’t like someplace, we’d move on,” Danika said.

With no itinerary and no end game, she began sharing their adventures in their travel blog aptly named “No Destinations.” Four years and more than 200 destinations later, Danika and Chris have transformed their dream of seeing the world into a profitable, luxury-travel brand.

LIKES LONG WALKS ON THE BEACH
“We’re not the backpack-across-Europe, stay-in-a-youth-hostel type of people,” said Danika, laughing. “We prefer luxury and style and love to explore beautiful beaches and cities. Our focus is not to travel to, but instead experience new places, cultures and people.”

And their experiences run the gamut from eating at questionable alleyway cafes in Hanoi, Vietnam, while sitting on plastic stools to a 12-course meal at a Michelin-rated restaurant in Paris. Along the way, they’ve had some truly once-in-a-lifetime adventures, including swimming with sea turtles in the crystal blue waters of the Maldives, trekking through the dense rain forests of Malaysia, hiking a breathtaking Icelandic glacier and exploring the deserts of the United Arab Emirates on camelback.

Think luxury, but laid back – and that’s No Destinations.

“We’re finally doing something we love, and we get to do it together,” Danika said.

But the two are very different. Danika describes herself as the frantic worrier, while she says her husband always manages to stay cool under pressure. Consider their packing styles, and humor, as shared on their website, nodestinations.com:

Danika: My packing style is chaotic, stuffed and somewhat unrealistic.

Chris: My packing style is simple and organized – basically the complete opposite of Danika; one pair of shoes is enough.

The couple met on Match.com shortly after Danika graduated from CSUSM in 2006 with a degree in communication. Friends at first, it took three years before they would fall in love and later get married on a white sand beach in Cabo San Lucas with a handful of their closest family members in attendance.

A LIFE OF ITS OWN
As Danika will tell you, they didn’t set out to create the world’s best travel blog. They set out for discovery. They set out to experience new cultures and see new things without being confined to two weeks of vacation time.

And for the first year, they did just that. Soon, the blog’s readership expanded beyond family and friends and, in 2016, it caught the attention of Libby Kane, a reporter with Business Insider. Danika and Chris were in China at the time, and although Danika postponed the Skype interview a few times due to a cold, the three finally connected. The article and its accompanying video interview went viral.

“It was wild,” Danika said. “Overnight we saw our following on Instagram and Facebook increase by the hundreds of thousands.”

Thirty million views later, No Destinations was entrenched in the spotlight. Since then, their travels have been featured in Food & Wine Magazine, Forbes Travel Guide, Travel+Leisure, along with 16 other luxury travel publications

A LIFESTYLE THAT WORKS
Although the Garlottas have banished the stereotypical 9-5 workday, they do work. They call themselves digital nomads – freelancers on the constant move.

“Just because we’re traveling does not mean we are ‘on vacation’ even though sometimes our office is a cabana on the beach in Indonesia,” Danika said.

Before boarding their flight to Italy in 2014, Chris worked for startup tech companies in Silicon Valley, doing graphic design and web and app development. He is the founder of zingsale.com, a service that alerts Amazon users when a particular item drops in price. Danika was the head of marketing for a string of boutique hotels in San Francisco.

Today, Chris continues to work remotely for a few tech companies, while Danika is a marketing and design consultant for a handful of clients, in addition to managing No Destinations full time. Both work 20-40 hours a week, and depending on travel schedules, they decide when to take on new projects or clients.

Because they live in a different city every few weeks and primarily stay in apartment rentals, there is one nonnegotiable amenity must: a desk with a chair that has a back. Being a digital nomad can present its challenges, at times, like staying on top of constantly changing time zones, preparing for periods when WiFi access is limited or nonexistent in some areas, and relying almost exclusively on digital communication methods.

The travel duo recently became a trio with the addition of their son Axel, born in December 2017. Chris and Danika have started a travel bucket list for Axel – and are already putting their little guy’s passport to good use. In the last few months, the Garlotta family has traveled to United Arab Emirates to take in the gorgeous views, went on a safari in Sri Lanka and got up-close with an elephant, and sailed to the Bahamas on a luxury cruise.

Still on their bucket list: Antarctica and Australia.

In traveling the world, Danika discovered something unexpected.

“These experiences have taught me how truly big and open the world is and that there isn’t just one traditional path to happiness,” she said. “The toughest decision we ever made was making the decision to just do it. I never would have imagined that this life was possible, and now I cannot imagine our lives any differently.”

Follow along on their adventures at nodestinations.com or @nodestinations