It's not fatal if we shepherd change.

A seven-year old has a natural curiosity to understand the world around them. Everything is new and most anything invariably involves asking why it is so. That was most certainly true in 1970 in Huntington, West Virginia. 

I recall that evening in October when my father came home from the Marshall University campus after students protesting recent drug raids were tear-gassed. As an Episcopal minister it would not have been unusual for my father, also an adjunct teaching social work at the university, to believe his campus presence a necessary protocol as a member of the faith community. He certainly would have been easy to identify with his white clerical collar. Whether he chose, was asked or just happened to be on campus that evening one thing remains vivid in my memory and that was the sense of relief my mother expressed when he returned home. (Tragically this unfortunate event was followed by the plane crash on November 14, 1970 that claimed the lives of thirty-seven members of the Marshall football team, its coach, its doctors, athletic director and 25 team boosters. To say that Huntington as a community introduced me to the art of resilience is an understatement. It remains a special place.)

Flash forward to Ithaca, New York in October of 2015 when a campus wide assembly was

called by the Ithaca College administration to address racism and cultural bias. I remember catching the clerical collar out of the corner of my eye and denoting the gentleman’s location in the lobby as I, along with other alumni, members of the staff, faculty and student population proceeded into the College’s Athletics & Events Center. Truthfully, this assembly was crafted as poorly as prior attempts for fostering genuine dialogue. A heavy uniform presence, staff instructed to marshall attendees to fill seats on the floor, a panel of speakers comprised of white-haired caucasian men...all the trappings and appearances of inflexibility. However, what made this particular evening different was a student protest by POC at IC who took to the stage to verbally deliver a bevy of information recounting the campus experience for students of color. When the students concluded their remarks they asked the audience to join them in walking out on a panel prepped to talk at them rather than include them. By my estimate 75% of the audience elected to leave the assembly and I was part of that procession.

At the onset I intended to listen fairly to the discussion, taking in all that was to be said, but one look at the panel suggested my good intention would be lost on yet another misguided, maligned attempt to control the conversation. I grabbed a quick video clip of the procession out of the building, walked up a short flight of stairs on a mission to locate the man in the clerical collar. When I found him I hugged him, whispering quietly to him “Father, I think we’ve been here before.” I gingerly gripped his arm in recognition and walked away. In that moment, hugging a man of the cloth, it was as if I had the chance, some fifty years later, to understand fully my father’s commitment to his faith and to the students at Marshall University that fall evening in 1970.

While one can deliver instruction on recognizing discrimination and embracing an ever-expanding definition of diversity it is wholly another challenge to grasp the impact of bias academically, economically, and culturally. Change takes time. That is especially true when it seems to be languishing in the bureaucracy of decision-making and disingenuous dialogue on a college campus. Thus, sometimes negotiating a new way forward necessitates action. 

As similar calls to action are made at several institutions of higher education I imagine those with the greatest to lose are those seeking to avoid or negate the conversation about doing things differently.

Frankly, presidents, Board of Trustees, administrative heads, alumni, faculty, staff and students at any of these institutions will find they are compromised by inaction perhaps even culpable. It's only fatal if we don't take action to shepherd change. 

Finding place in a shifting world

Seeking solitude or simply stepping back from the hectic pace of one's life isn't uncommon. In fact, I suspect quite common as the world shifts and our lives seek greater balance in what some interpret as turbulent times.


As some of you know from previous posts I spent the better part of a decade in the Ithaca, New York area before heading south. An era before recessional trends and gray hair. In this rally into my golden age I find I am a constant interloper of the Finger Lakes. I give myself permission constantly to hold this region tight while also keeping my feet firmly planted in the sands along the coast of South Carolina. As if placing myself in the lush natural surroundings means I'm cheating on the wide swing tides of the Lowcountry.


It's the places I find myself occupying during these retreats that make it sweet...

The City of Ithaca has successfully completed a reinterpretation (repair) of its Commons where a young mayor (Svante Myrick) brings his youthful enthusiasm to the concrete and civic endeavors found in his backyard. From Hip Hop concerts to public coffee talks with the local police chief to cutting the ribbon on another new entrepreneur's business. What one individual does makes others take notice. Check out the mayor's parking space at City Hall, here.

An uncommon space and constantly evolving is Mimi's Attic. One need not be in the market for their wares, simply checking out the staff's talent to recreate living spaces on the shop floor every day is entertainment enough on any given day. In my mind, no one in the interiors market has anything on the sharp marketing and design skills of this team.

Then there is the Meeting House at Boiceville Cottages, a common lodge where members of the community can gather either serendipitously or in planned celebration. I've met some remarkable people simply by spending a few hours a week in this community space. Some weeks it's a graduate student writing a dissertation, others a book club discussing their latest read, or a yoga class bringing everyone to center and sometimes it's simply young people parking their bicycles on the curb to grab a quick cartoon.

Spending time with James Rada in the Roy H. Park School of Communications at Ithaca College in planning to bring students to South Carolina in the days leading up to the primary in February 2016 gives me the chance to engage in my home state even when away. James accompanied students to Washington DC in 2013 as they covered the 50th Anniversary of the March on Washington for NBC and PBS Newshour. In March 2015, he joined Ithaca College students as they travelled to Alabama to cover the 50th Anniversary of Selma for NBC News. They will come to South Carolina in 2016 to shed light on the new and old south during a key democratic process. I'm proud of my alma mater for interpreting the experiential nature of its curriculum as key to its students success and lucky enough to have the time to share in the journey.

Discovering my place in this world simply by being where I am.

Six degrees of separation from the Cooperative Extension System

Recalling the moment I received my award for photography from Eastman Kodak at the Cabell County 4-H Camp and Conference Center in Barboursville, West Virginia brings forth a smile in the recollection of camp fires, new friends and character building activities.   In  many ways it foretold the role Cooperative Extension would play in my life.  Throughout my life.

First the obvious. I spent my club time in Huntington, West Virginia focused on an enriching activity that my mother encouraged me to pursue because of my ability to tell a story.  For many years I read books and kept a journal, but she prodded me to visualize my thoughts "capture the moments you find so easy to craft into words on film." I took those talents a bit further later in life and combined the two activities into a passion for public speaking. What's significant about the award I received is the company, Eastman Kodak. Several years after receiving the photography award our family moved to Kingsport, Tennessee which housed Kodak's second largest facility (now Eastman Chemical, a spin off of the parent company).   Somewhat prophetic when I think about how a young girl in one state lands in another state in a town whose primary employer recognized her photography achievement. 

Now I wish I could say my understanding of the significance of the Smith-Lever Act  prompted me to engage in a 4-H program, but the truth is my parents' participation as volunteers, former 4-Hers themselves finding a way while living poor to give their daughters summer vacations and extracurricular activities made it an ideal environment.  In fact, their personal investment reaped many rewards beyond the time and talent they shared during those early years. 

Fast forward through many life passages~ I graduate from high school, go to college, graduate, secure a job in higher education, get married, get divorced, and then move to Ithaca, New York to go to graduate school. Here's where my Extension story gets interesting.  I attend Ithaca College as an adult student in the Roy H. Park School of Communications to complete a masters in Corporate Communication (also lacking the then current technical skills found in mainstream media), buy into the library privileges at Cornell University so I have the best resources available to me, fall in love with the nineteen libraries at Cornell (easy for a book worm to do) and then graduate. When it came time to locate employment where my previous experience and newly developed skills could go to work my mentor/professor Diane Gayeski  (interestingly enough now dean of the Park School) suggested I look at Cornell, the land grant University for New York state. I also consulted the reference librarians at Mann Library (which services the learning in life sciences, agriculture, human ecology and applied social sciences at Cornell) who I'd gotten to know quite well during my two years of graduate study. It was they who forwarded a notice about an opportunity with Cornell University's Cooperative Extension as the Director of Public Relations and encouraged me to apply. 

My employment at Cornell University was one of the most rewarding and rich experiences of my professional career. Not only did I get to spend time working with the University's Extension agents and academic professionals I also captured a keen understanding of each of New York state's 58 County Extension offices, their respective elected officials, the people of New York and attended most all the county fairs...as well as the annual state fair in Syracuse. It was here that I was introduced to the profession of public affairs serving in the Government Affairs division at the University and later performing a Cooperative Service Agreement (CSA) as an employee of Cornell with CSREES  in 4-H Youth Development (now USDA's National Institute of Food and Agriculture). 

It's the people connected to Cooperative Extension that make the difference. I met Cathann Kress at Cornell as the Director of 4-H Youth Development and later worked with her at USDA. She now serves as the Vice President for Extension and Outreach at Iowa State University. I worked closely with Kathryn Boor and her Food Safety Lab at Cornell. She was then a professor of food science and I enlisted her to participate in a topical seminar on BioTerrorism with the then Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton. She now serves as the Ronald P. Lynch Dean of Agriculture and Life Sciences at Cornell. For me, these Extension professionals symbolize the greatest asset of the system, its people serving the public needs through research and outreach. Living the land grant mission out loud.

All good things don't have to end, but a family death and a parent in decline necessitated my return South and departure from Cornell. What's the first thing I do when I land in Beaufort, South Carolina? I look up my local agent at Clemson Extension and ask for assistance in getting familiar with my new home town.  

Life continues to intersect with Extension. I served as a board member in its infancy for what is now the most successful farmers market in our region (Farmers Market of Bluffton). Clemson Extension was there providing expertise and assistance in placing the market on the map at its start. I get a dose of the Master Gardner program at the Port Royal Farmer's Market each week. I follow the careers of my former colleagues, applaud the accomplishments of USDA sponsored programs and marvel with pride at the success of the system in connecting its efforts to real people despite a myriad of changes to its structure, budgets and the unfolding times.

From a passion for photography to a profession and livelihood in civic and public affairs to continuing to rely on its people to give me the information I need to be successful, Cooperative Extension one hundred years later delivers the mission of its intent and continues to go on strong.

Happy 100 Years Extension!