When Maya Kummer was a struggling student at Cal State San Marcos, Campus Coffee was a piece of her therapy. 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.

Jessica Waite had a lot of the same worries that most suburban American kids face, concerns related to school performance, social currency, the health of loved ones. 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.”

The listing on eBay was for a 1965 GMC truck, the kind used back in the day to make bread deliveries. The cost was $1,200. The mileage was impossible to know, really, because the truck didn’t have a working odometer. 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.”

For many people, deciding what to give family or friends for a special occasion can be agonizing. For Dayleen Coleman, it was a piece of cake, so to speak. 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.

Erik Lamkin is just 26 years old, but he sounds a bit like a grizzled professional athlete closer to the end of his career than the beginning. 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

KIN Whiskey is more than just a clever name to Taylor Lax, a 2010 graduate of Cal State San Marcos. 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.

Ellen Neufeldt arrived at Cal State San Marcos’ University Village Apartments on Aug. 23 with a smile and a friendly greeting for volunteers at move-in day. She posed for selfies with proud parents. Shook hands and introduced herself to staff. Warmly welcomed incoming students preparing to live on their own for the first time. 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.”

Jon’Nae Vermillion finds a quiet spot before every Cal State San Marcos women’s basketball game and listens to “Something About the Name Jesus,” a song her mother played for her when she was a child. 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

Isaias Torres frequently tagged along while his father, Luis, worked at Desert Regional Medical Center in Palm Springs. Isaias did so out of necessity – he was in elementary school and his father couldn’t afford childcare. 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

Giving back is a fundamental part of life for Lee and Rosita Hieb. 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.”

Danni Flowers follows a simple routine when it comes to introductions. 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.”

It’s safe to say that when Karen Haynes first met Jim Mickelson, it wasn’t exactly a classic boy-meets-girl love story. It was an ordinary, but also unexpected, encounter between a social work advocate and a social work professor. The clincher was perhaps the world’s worst pick-up line. 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.”

Do women need to dress like a man to rise to leadership? “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.

From the deep-hued paint on the walls to the faint aroma of coffee, President Haynes’ office is filled with delightful, unexpected and storied pieces. 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.

Karen Haynes still remembers buying the suit. 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?”

When Damien Brantley was at his lowest point, when he felt like he had nothing left and nowhere to turn, Mr. Jim was there. 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

Becoming a provost was never part of Graham Oberem’s plan. He never expected to be an administrator of any type at Cal State San Marcos. 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

Malika Berens doesn’t know exactly how long she cared for her younger sisters after the three siblings were abandoned by their birth mother while growing up in Kazakhstan. 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.”

His suitcases were packed. The social workers were on their way.  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.”

Tiffany Teusch didn’t give much thought to college as a teenager. 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.”