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Alumna, Former Employee Sees Personal Meaning in MentorshipShanelle Watkins often thinks about several previous iterations of herself. She thinks about the version who had just graduated from Cal State San Marcos and still harbored some self-doubt, unsure how she would turn her sociology degree into a career. She thinks about the version who set off for UC Davis as the first person in her family to attend college, but who couldn’t find the support that she needed and ultimately failed out. Most of all, though, she thinks about 12-year-old Shanelle, a Black girl from southeast San Diego (the “hood,” as she proudly calls it) who had her whole life ahead of her but also had already experienced her share of pain. Watkins even dedicated her doctoral dissertation to that Shanelle. “That’s when things started to click for me and a lot of questioning started to happen,” Watkins said. “That little girl, I just want to take and hold and heal. “I think that she probably would think I was really cool. I think she would really like me.” Now 36, Watkins is devoting her life to ensuring that other young girls – or, more precisely in her case, young women of color – can receive the mentorship that she sometimes got but occasionally eluded her, can achieve the success that she has attained despite the obstacles that dotted her path. Two years ago, Watkins left her job as assistant director of the Black Student Center at CSUSM – the university she had returned to almost a decade after graduating – to become director of the Chancellor’s Associates Scholarship Program at UC San Diego. CASP, as it's known, awards scholarships to and nurtures during their time at the university local and high-achieving students who come from low-income families – students, in other words, like young Shanelle. While she was working full-time at CSUSM and now UCSD, Watkins also was studying at both schools part-time, as an Ed.D. candidate in their joint doctoral program. Her dissertation, inspired by her experience running the Black Student Center for three years, explored the challenges faced by Black women student leaders at Hispanic-Serving Institutions within California State University. “I wanted to know what leadership meant to them,” she said. “How did it come about? Where was it rooted from? Through those questions, I heard very rich stories about the stress of code-switching or feeling like you need to assimilate to fit in or not being seen or being the token Black person in whatever organization or group you belong to.” She defended her dissertation and officially became Dr. Watkins, but she wasn’t finished with the subject. As an outgrowth of the project, last September she started a company called Leading While Becoming. The leadership organization offers quarterly group coaching cohorts and one-on-one coaching for women of color. She has built a roster of about a dozen clients, most of whom are women in their 20s who are trying to launch their careers. “I didn't foresee it happening this way,” Watkins said. “I thought my dissertation might be a toolkit to inform college leaders. I didn't think it would be a full-fledged coaching program. But I am glad, because it gives me the opportunity to meet with folks and empower them and watch them grow. It’s doing a lot of the things that I wish I had had.” What 12-year-old Shanelle did have was a love of education and a thirst for knowledge. What she didn’t have was financial resources or the most stable home life. Her mother, Augusta, was a stay-at-home parent who Watkins said did the best she could to raise her despite confronting personal challenges. Her father, Aaron, struggled with substance abuse problems before he got clean in a drug rehabilitation program and turned his life around. Aaron Watkins became Shanelle’s rock. After going sober, he got a job in facilities management at UCSD, where he worked nights cleaning science labs and offices for the next three decades. During the day, he worked (and still works) as a delivery driver for Pizza Hut. But he still found time to drive Shanelle to school every day, and to pick her up between his shifts. “Through his dedication to remaining sober and his hard work, I think he definitely instilled a lot of that in me,” Watkins said. In contrast to his other two children (Shanelle has an older sister and younger brother), who both played sports, Aaron Watkins recalls Shanelle being laser-focused on academics and ancillary activities – from being part of a radio broadcast with a classmate to serving on a drill team to doing a ride-along with the local police department. “She was involved in everything she could be,” Aaron Watkins said. “She was almost always self-motivated.” Her passion for learning, however, didn’t always come with a sense of belonging. When Watkins reached middle school, her family took advantage of a city program that allowed kids from disadvantaged neighborhoods to attend schools in wealthier communities. She went to Correia Middle and Point Loma High School, which both feature predominantly white student populations. “I questioned if I fit in there or if my family had the money to provide me with the things that I needed to thrive,” Watkins said. “For a little bit, it did kind of dim my light.” That light grew brighter in high school, when the canceling of her elective choir class because of low numbers led her to the Advancement Via Individual Determination (AVID) program, which is designed to prepare underrepresented students for college. On the first day, her teacher, Kellie Larson, told Watkins she would have to go to study hall and turn in notes every week. Watkins, feeling uncharacteristically rebellious, was less than enthused. “I was like, I’m not doing any of that,’ ” she said. “That whole first semester, her and I beefed so bad.” Larson persisted, pushing Watkins, encouraging her to take AP classes and sign up for clubs, handing her the tools to succeed that her parents didn’t know existed. By the time she graduated from Point Loma, Watkins had amassed more than $35,000 in scholarships. “Mrs. Larson and I are still in touch to this day,” she said. “If it weren’t for that choir class not having enough people, who knows where I would be now?” The appearance of mentors at just the right time would become a pattern for Watkins. After her academic withdrawal from UC Davis – “I was up against a lot of first-gen struggles,” she says – she returned home to attend MiraCosta College, then transferred to CSUSM. As a senior in fall 2012, she gave birth to her son, Seiji, and thought she might have to drop out, again derailing her academic ambitions. But a group of sociology professors – Watkins called out Karen Glover, Kathy Shellhammer, Sharon Cullity, Mary Roche and Gary Rollison – rallied to her side, pointing her toward maternal services, helping her postpone certain courses, letting her bring her baby to class. One even made a quilt for Seiji. “The faculty in the sociology department loved on me in places that I needed to be loved on,” Watkins said. “It made me really grateful for my CSUSM experience.” And when she came back to CSUSM as a staff member eight years later, in 2021, she discovered another invaluable mentor in Gail Cole-Avent, the university’s interim associate vice president for student health and wellness. Watkins says Cole-Avent, her supervisor, taught her how to occupy a leadership role without sacrificing her identity or sense of authenticity. Watkins’ return to CSUSM was the first in a series of gratifying full-circle moments that have marked the last few years. Her hiring at UCSD brought her to the place where her father worked for a generation before his retirement in 2019 – where she first learned what college was and how life-changing it could be. Even now, she encounters former colleagues of her dad, professors whose labs he cleaned, and they urge her to reach out if she ever needs assistance. Also, when Watkins decided that she wanted to add a board membership to her expanding resume, she sought out a San Diego nonprofit named CRASH (Community Resources and Self-Help). CRASH happens to be the organization that helped her father kick his drug addiction and begin his life anew way back when. In December, CRASH hosted a holiday party at one of its houses, and Watkins went with her dad, who had been invited as an alumnus of the program. “Everyone who he ran into, he was like, ‘This is my daughter, she’s on the board, she’s a doctor,’ ” she said. “My dad doesn’t smile a lot, but I could see the pride on his face.” And here’s one more full-circle moment. Watkins is a business owner, she’s a higher education administrator, she’s a leader. Above all, though, she’s a mother. Seiji is 13 now, almost the same age as the young Shanelle who Watkins often reflects on. He’s in seventh grade, he’s an ardent athlete and, like most teenagers, he thinks he’s too cool for his mom. “I was a single mom from the time he was three months old, and I would say I think I did a good job,” Watkins said. “He’s a wonderful kid and he’s my best friend. I see a lot of me in him. I always tell him, ‘You’re the greatest thing I’ve ever done.’ ” Media Contact Brian Hiro, Communications Specialist bhiro@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7306
New Gallery Showcases Student Art in LibraryThe event that inspired the class project was imaginary. But for Sonia Ellis and fellow Cal State San Marcos art students, the payoff was very real. Last year, Ellis was a student in AMD 409: Advanced Graphic Design and Visual Arts, an upper-division class taught by Ghazal Foroutan. The assignment: Using only typography, create a promotional poster for a hypothetical California architecture conference being hosted by CSUSM. The twist: Some of the posters that resulted would be displayed as part of a new student art gallery in Kellogg Library. Ellis made a poster about acclaimed Israeli-Canadian-American architect Moshe Safdie, and hers was one of 19 selected for the exhibit. “I was thrilled and honored to have my work chosen to be displayed in the library and kept in the archive,” said Ellis, an art, media and design major who’s scheduled to graduate this spring. “It gave a greater sense of purpose to the project.” The 19 posters compose the first installment of the Cougar Gallery, which is located on the library’s second floor, occupying the wall space between the Makery’s entrance and the stairwell down the hall. Foroutan said the idea came from a conversation with fellow art, media and design professor Kristin Moss, and it was brought to fruition through a collaboration with multiple employees of the library: associate dean Char Booth, outreach librarian Irma Ramos Arreaga, arts and humanities librarian Torie Quiñonez, and administrative coordinator Arely Ayala. The initial exhibit has adorned the library’s walls since the start of the fall semester. “Seeing the students’ work displayed in a prominent campus space has been incredibly meaningful,” Foroutan said. “As a professor, I am proud to share their work with the broader campus community and to see it recognized by the department and the library. “For students, the exhibition validates their efforts beyond the classroom. Many have already photographed their posters and plan to list the show as a group exhibition on their CVs, as well as include the work in their portfolios.” The Cougar Gallery, Booth said, fulfills a longstanding desire to increase the presence and visibility of student art in the library. As a prominent display of creative student work, it joins the Data Stacks on the library’s fourth floor. "By establishing this new gallery, we are showcasing the creative talents of CSUSM student artists and designers and dedicating a highly visible area of the library to School of Arts students and faculty as a much-needed supplementary gallery space,” Booth said. Once she was assigned Safdie as her subject (other famous architects featured include Frank Lloyd Wright and Frank Gehry), Ellis set out to make a poster that would promote a hypothetical discussion with the architect at the conference while also channeling the style and philosophy of that architect. In researching Safdie’s life and work, Ellis was drawn to his design theory, “For Everyone a Garden.” “He envisions architecture as a living, evolving environment, integrating gardens and green space into almost all of his designs,” she said. “That phrase became my guiding concept and tagline for the poster, inspiring my color palette and imagery.” Ellis incorporated both physical art and digital design in the creation of her poster. She also designed an accompanying booklet in the same style as the poster to round out the promotional material. “Over the weeks of working on the project, we all watched each other's concepts evolve in the studio, so seeing them printed professionally and displayed in a space where so many students pass through was very meaningful,” said Ellis, who plans to apply for the CSUSM teaching credential program, with a goal of becoming an art educator. Foroutan hopes to work with the library to rotate the exhibition at least once a year to showcase as many as much student artwork as possible. “While the overall framework of the project will remain consistent, I plan to subtly revise the assignment each year to introduce new constraints, tones or conceptual directions, allowing the exhibition to evolve over time,” she said. Media Contact Brian Hiro, Communications Specialist bhiro@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7306
Student Announcements
Donate to the Student Athlete Advisory Committee Basic Needs DriveThe Student Athlete Advisory Committee will be hosting a basic needs drive from Feb. 2-8 to donate to the local community. The SAAC is requesting donations, including warm clothing, nonperishable food items, household items, new hygiene products, etc. Donations will be accepted in the Clarke Field House suites as well as at upcoming CSUSM home basketball games. Free admission will be given to those who bring a donation. The committee will be collecting donations at REC Night ahead of the men’s and women’s basketball doubleheader, beginning at 5 pm. Follow its Instagram page, @csusm_saac, for more info and updates. Come support CSUSM's athletic teams and a good cause!
Seeking Healthy Adults for Exercise Training StudyHealthy adults ages 18-60 years old are needed to take part in a 12-week exercise training study taking place at CSUSM. Exercise training consists of two 10-minute sessions per week for 12 weeks. Study completion provides an incentive equal to $250. For more information, contact Dr. Todd A. Astorino, kinesiology professor, at astorino@csusm.edu.
News Release
CSU, CSUSM Launch National Center for Social MobilityThe California State University (CSU) and California State University San Marcos (CSUSM) have announced the launch of the CSU National Center for Social Mobility at CSUSM, a first-of-its-kind initiative that will advance the upward mobility of students across our nation. The announcement was made Friday, Feb. 6, following the 2026 National Social Mobility Symposium, hosted at CSUSM and livestreamed to audiences across the United States. The symposium annually convenes thought leaders and policymakers focused on how higher education can continue to be a driving force for students’ upward social mobility. Social mobility refers to the improvement of an individual’s socioeconomic status compared to previous generations. More than half of CSUSM students are first-generation college graduates. Late last fall, CSUSM was ranked No. 1 in CollegeNET’s Social Mobility Index for the second time in four years. Eight CSU campuses rank in the top 20 of the index. “Cal State San Marcos is honored to serve as the home of the CSU National Center for Social Mobility,” CSUSM President Ellen Neufeldt said. “This recognition reflects years of intentional work by our faculty, staff and students – and a deep commitment to being a university of place, with social mobility at the center of our mission.” CSUSM has secured $3 million in philanthropic donations to establish the center, including from the Stone Brewing Fund for Social Mobility, the Epstein Family Foundation and an anonymous donor – with each donating $1 million to the project. CSUSM Foundation Board Chair Simon Kuo presented a ceremonial check to CSU and CSUSM leadership Friday. The center is seeking additional philanthropic partners to ensure its sustained impact. Contact Jocelyn Wyndham, associate vice president of development, at jwyndham@csusm.edu for more information on partnership opportunities. About the Center The CSU National Center for Social Mobility at CSUSM, which is scheduled to launch in the 2026-27 academic year, is designed as a collaborative effort to advance student success and economic mobility practices in higher education at a national scale. “At its core, the center addresses one of the most urgent questions facing higher education today: How do we move from promising practices to proven systems that deliver results at scale?” CSU Chancellor Mildred García said. The social mobility center will serve as a national leader and convener in redefining student success beyond college access to include persistence, completion and career outcomes. The center will be based on three core pillars: Leading with best practices, including the identification, testing and scaling of strategies that remove barriers to graduation. Shaping the national dialogue, such as championing comprehensive student support as the foundation of upward mobility. Serving as a national hub for collaboration, which involves building partnerships with policymakers, educators, community organizations and industry. This center will provide avenues to participate in faculty-led research, innovation grants and fellowships; access to shared tools, data and best practices; and new paid internships and career-building opportunities for students. “At a time when higher education is being asked to demonstrate its value, the CSU is responding with action – by measuring outcomes, closing equity gaps and preparing the graduates who power our economy and enrich communities,” said Wenda Fong, trustee and past chair of the CSU Board of Trustees. “On behalf of the Board of Trustees, we are proud to support this center and the leadership of Cal State San Marcos in advancing this work nationwide. It’s a dream come true.” The announcement of the social mobility center was the culmination of the 2026 National Social Mobility Symposium, which this year took the format of a joint in-person event and webinar. With a theme of “Workforce and Economic Mobility: Higher Education’s Role in Driving Opportunity,” the program featured dynamic experts from across the country, addressing employer expectations, talent pipelines, systemic barriers to career readiness, and national policy and innovation driving mobility.
Alumna, Former Employee Sees Personal Meaning in MentorshipShanelle Watkins often thinks about several previous iterations of herself. She thinks about the version who had just graduated from Cal State San Marcos and still harbored some self-doubt, unsure how she would turn her sociology degree into a career. She thinks about the version who set off for UC Davis as the first person in her family to attend college, but who couldn’t find the support that she needed and ultimately failed out. Most of all, though, she thinks about 12-year-old Shanelle, a Black girl from southeast San Diego (the “hood,” as she proudly calls it) who had her whole life ahead of her but also had already experienced her share of pain. Watkins even dedicated her doctoral dissertation to that Shanelle. “That’s when things started to click for me and a lot of questioning started to happen,” Watkins said. “That little girl, I just want to take and hold and heal. “I think that she probably would think I was really cool. I think she would really like me.” Now 36, Watkins is devoting her life to ensuring that other young girls – or, more precisely in her case, young women of color – can receive the mentorship that she sometimes got but occasionally eluded her, can achieve the success that she has attained despite the obstacles that dotted her path. Two years ago, Watkins left her job as assistant director of the Black Student Center at CSUSM – the university she had returned to almost a decade after graduating – to become director of the Chancellor’s Associates Scholarship Program at UC San Diego. CASP, as it's known, awards scholarships to and nurtures during their time at the university local and high-achieving students who come from low-income families – students, in other words, like young Shanelle. While she was working full-time at CSUSM and now UCSD, Watkins also was studying at both schools part-time, as an Ed.D. candidate in their joint doctoral program. Her dissertation, inspired by her experience running the Black Student Center for three years, explored the challenges faced by Black women student leaders at Hispanic-Serving Institutions within California State University. “I wanted to know what leadership meant to them,” she said. “How did it come about? Where was it rooted from? Through those questions, I heard very rich stories about the stress of code-switching or feeling like you need to assimilate to fit in or not being seen or being the token Black person in whatever organization or group you belong to.” She defended her dissertation and officially became Dr. Watkins, but she wasn’t finished with the subject. As an outgrowth of the project, last September she started a company called Leading While Becoming. The leadership organization offers quarterly group coaching cohorts and one-on-one coaching for women of color. She has built a roster of about a dozen clients, most of whom are women in their 20s who are trying to launch their careers. “I didn't foresee it happening this way,” Watkins said. “I thought my dissertation might be a toolkit to inform college leaders. I didn't think it would be a full-fledged coaching program. But I am glad, because it gives me the opportunity to meet with folks and empower them and watch them grow. It’s doing a lot of the things that I wish I had had.” What 12-year-old Shanelle did have was a love of education and a thirst for knowledge. What she didn’t have was financial resources or the most stable home life. Her mother, Augusta, was a stay-at-home parent who Watkins said did the best she could to raise her despite confronting personal challenges. Her father, Aaron, struggled with substance abuse problems before he got clean in a drug rehabilitation program and turned his life around. Aaron Watkins became Shanelle’s rock. After going sober, he got a job in facilities management at UCSD, where he worked nights cleaning science labs and offices for the next three decades. During the day, he worked (and still works) as a delivery driver for Pizza Hut. But he still found time to drive Shanelle to school every day, and to pick her up between his shifts. “Through his dedication to remaining sober and his hard work, I think he definitely instilled a lot of that in me,” Watkins said. In contrast to his other two children (Shanelle has an older sister and younger brother), who both played sports, Aaron Watkins recalls Shanelle being laser-focused on academics and ancillary activities – from being part of a radio broadcast with a classmate to serving on a drill team to doing a ride-along with the local police department. “She was involved in everything she could be,” Aaron Watkins said. “She was almost always self-motivated.” Her passion for learning, however, didn’t always come with a sense of belonging. When Watkins reached middle school, her family took advantage of a city program that allowed kids from disadvantaged neighborhoods to attend schools in wealthier communities. She went to Correia Middle and Point Loma High School, which both feature predominantly white student populations. “I questioned if I fit in there or if my family had the money to provide me with the things that I needed to thrive,” Watkins said. “For a little bit, it did kind of dim my light.” That light grew brighter in high school, when the canceling of her elective choir class because of low numbers led her to the Advancement Via Individual Determination (AVID) program, which is designed to prepare underrepresented students for college. On the first day, her teacher, Kellie Larson, told Watkins she would have to go to study hall and turn in notes every week. Watkins, feeling uncharacteristically rebellious, was less than enthused. “I was like, I’m not doing any of that,’ ” she said. “That whole first semester, her and I beefed so bad.” Larson persisted, pushing Watkins, encouraging her to take AP classes and sign up for clubs, handing her the tools to succeed that her parents didn’t know existed. By the time she graduated from Point Loma, Watkins had amassed more than $35,000 in scholarships. “Mrs. Larson and I are still in touch to this day,” she said. “If it weren’t for that choir class not having enough people, who knows where I would be now?” The appearance of mentors at just the right time would become a pattern for Watkins. After her academic withdrawal from UC Davis – “I was up against a lot of first-gen struggles,” she says – she returned home to attend MiraCosta College, then transferred to CSUSM. As a senior in fall 2012, she gave birth to her son, Seiji, and thought she might have to drop out, again derailing her academic ambitions. But a group of sociology professors – Watkins called out Karen Glover, Kathy Shellhammer, Sharon Cullity, Mary Roche and Gary Rollison – rallied to her side, pointing her toward maternal services, helping her postpone certain courses, letting her bring her baby to class. One even made a quilt for Seiji. “The faculty in the sociology department loved on me in places that I needed to be loved on,” Watkins said. “It made me really grateful for my CSUSM experience.” And when she came back to CSUSM as a staff member eight years later, in 2021, she discovered another invaluable mentor in Gail Cole-Avent, the university’s interim associate vice president for student health and wellness. Watkins says Cole-Avent, her supervisor, taught her how to occupy a leadership role without sacrificing her identity or sense of authenticity. Watkins’ return to CSUSM was the first in a series of gratifying full-circle moments that have marked the last few years. Her hiring at UCSD brought her to the place where her father worked for a generation before his retirement in 2019 – where she first learned what college was and how life-changing it could be. Even now, she encounters former colleagues of her dad, professors whose labs he cleaned, and they urge her to reach out if she ever needs assistance. Also, when Watkins decided that she wanted to add a board membership to her expanding resume, she sought out a San Diego nonprofit named CRASH (Community Resources and Self-Help). CRASH happens to be the organization that helped her father kick his drug addiction and begin his life anew way back when. In December, CRASH hosted a holiday party at one of its houses, and Watkins went with her dad, who had been invited as an alumnus of the program. “Everyone who he ran into, he was like, ‘This is my daughter, she’s on the board, she’s a doctor,’ ” she said. “My dad doesn’t smile a lot, but I could see the pride on his face.” And here’s one more full-circle moment. Watkins is a business owner, she’s a higher education administrator, she’s a leader. Above all, though, she’s a mother. Seiji is 13 now, almost the same age as the young Shanelle who Watkins often reflects on. He’s in seventh grade, he’s an ardent athlete and, like most teenagers, he thinks he’s too cool for his mom. “I was a single mom from the time he was three months old, and I would say I think I did a good job,” Watkins said. “He’s a wonderful kid and he’s my best friend. I see a lot of me in him. I always tell him, ‘You’re the greatest thing I’ve ever done.’ ” Media Contact Brian Hiro, Communications Specialist bhiro@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7306
Steps Magazine
Alumna Finds Purpose in Advocacy for Native Children and FamiliesAs Maya Goodblanket reflects on her time as a student, she vividly remembers the day she found the California Indian Culture and Sovereignty Center at Cal State San Marcos. Goodblanket was nervous about checking out the CICSC. She didn’t know anyone on campus and was unsure about going inside. But she mustered the courage to open the door, and all of her anxiety disappeared as she was instantly welcomed. Little did she know that she was meeting mentors that day who would help her achieve the career she has today. Through intentional support from faculty and staff and inclusive spaces like the CICSC, CSUSM equips students to lead with identity, purpose and impact. “I was looking for that connection to my culture, and I found it on campus,” said Goodblanket, who received a bachelor’s degree in psychological science and a Master of Social Work at CSUSM. “I'm an out-of-state Native. My tribe is from Oklahoma, so I always am searching to reconnect with tribal communities and tribal culture.” Goodblanket, a member of the Cheyenne and Arapaho Tribes of Oklahoma, serves as an Indian Child Welfare Act (ICWA) court advocate for the Valley Center-based Indian Health Council, which provides health and wellness services for American Indian communities in north San Diego County. Any families involved in a child welfare case, such as a juvenile dependency proceeding, can rely on Goodblanket for support. "I work with moms and dads who are struggling with a variety of challenges," Goodblanket said. "One is substance abuse. My job is to support families in doing what they need to do to reunite with their kids if they’re not currently in a place to have them back. I also work with caregivers and family members who have taken placement of the children." Goodblanket’s cultural connection is at the heart of her advocacy. Under the ICWA, child welfare agencies must prioritize placing American Indian children with relatives or within their tribal communities whenever possible. “Natives are still removed at a disproportionate rate by child welfare services,” Goodblanket said. "When children are disconnected from their culture, their long-term outcomes aren't as strong as those who remain connected. That’s why the cultural component is such a vital part of the work I do." As a student, Goodblanket participated in CSUSM’s inaugural “Beyond the Stereotype" campaign to raise awareness about cultural appropriation and the harm caused by stereotypes. Goodblanket and other students were featured on posters across campus that challenged common misconceptions about underrepresented groups. She emphasized the need to raise awareness about issues like missing and murdered Indigenous women and the harmful sexualization of Native women through stereotypes and costumes, which contribute to broader societal perceptions and injustice. "Maya demonstrates how education driven by purpose and cultural knowledge creates lasting change,” said Joely Proudfit, chair of the American Indian studies department and director of the CICSC. “CSUSM remains grateful for her transformative impact, particularly through her leadership in the award-winning 'Beyond the Stereotype' campaign, where she challenged cultural appropriation with authenticity and understanding.” Goodblanket didn’t expect the campaign to have such a large impact, and its widespread presence across campus was surprising but meaningful. "I think it was really important to take that stance and just stand up,” she said. “And I think that's what college is all about.” Media Contact Eric Breier, Interim Assistant Director of Editorial and External Affairs ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314
After Surviving Battle With Hep C, Alumnus Now Helps Others Do SameRichard Jaenisch had received a death sentence at age 12. Diagnosed with hepatitis C, very unusual for a child that young, Jaenisch had been told by doctors that if he didn’t get a liver transplant, he wouldn’t live past 30. That disturbing prediction had hung over his adolescence and early adulthood like a black cloud, casting a pall over every doctor’s appointment and health episode. Now here it was, 2016, the year when Jaenisch turned 30, and the doctor’s assessment was feeling eerily prescient. He had not been able to procure a new liver, and his condition was deteriorating rapidly. To borrow his gallows humor, he was as “yellow as a Simpsons character” because of jaundice. He collectively spent more than six weeks in the hospital as a result of various complications from end-stage liver disease. “Every single day that year, I had a 30 to 60 percent chance of dying,” Jaenisch said. That he didn’t die, that he received a liver transplant on Dec. 3 (only a few months before his 31st birthday), Jaenisch considers to be nothing short of a miracle. Given the gift of fresh life in his fourth decade, he elected to devote it to ensuring that no one else has to go through the ordeal that he did. Three years later, Jaenisch returned to Cal State San Marcos – the university where he had earned a bachelor’s degree in social sciences in 2008 – to pursue a master’s in public health. He now works as the director of education and outreach for Open Biopharma Research and Training Institute, a Carlsbad nonprofit whose mission is to reduce the cost of pharmaceuticals like the ones that helped keep him alive while he waited for the miracle liver. More significantly, Jaenisch is a tireless patient advocate, dedicating countless hours to multiple organizations that share a goal of ending the scourge of hep C. He has transformed adversity into community impact, leveraging his CSUSM education to improve lives and strengthen public health across the state. “Richard is truly a special person,” said Carrie Frenette, the executive director of global medical affairs for Gilead Sciences and Jaenisch’s liver doctor for nine years starting in 2012. “I can’t think of anyone else who has so much expertise and understanding in their medical problems, advocates for themselves and then goes on to advocate for others. Honestly, it made it so easy to care for him, and it made it mean even more when he got his transplant and was healthy again.” 'I don’t know how you are still alive...’ It all started with brown pee. Jaenisch was a normal suburban kid growing up in Rancho Bernardo. When he was 12, his parents signed him up for a summer tennis camp. It was a sweltering day and he didn’t drink a lot of water; when he returned home and went to the bathroom, his urine was dark. His father took him to Rady Children’s Hospital, where he was put through a battery of tests on his kidneys, spleen and liver. The diagnosis of hepatitis C virus (HCV) stunned them, as did the subsequent wallop of bad news: After the rest of the family was tested, it was discovered that he contracted the infection at birth from his mother, who also was found to have HCV. Nothing, though, could have prepared Jaenisch for the haunting prognostication of liver transplant or death. “That shook me to my core,” he said. “My childhood was fundamentally changed. And my mom heard that, too, because she was in the room. It’s awkward hearing your own future from your child’s diagnosis. We shared a very odd relationship in that way.” At the time, in the late 1990s, there was no cure for HCV, only experimental treatments with low success rates and punishing side effects. Jaenisch’s mom started the drugs – interferon and ribavirin – almost immediately, but as a child, Jaenisch wasn’t eligible. The primary impact of HCV on his teenage years was that he was forced to cease participation in all sports and PE classes (because the disease can be transmitted through blood) and he began to suffer from a type of brain fog named hepatic encephalopathy (HE). After graduating from Rancho Bernardo High School, he attended Palomar College for two years, then transferred to CSUSM. There, he threw himself into classes in economics, history and political science – not only to satiate his hunger for knowledge but also to distract himself from the fear that constantly lingered at the back of his mind. “I wanted to live as much of my life as I could before everything hit the fan,” Jaenisch said. “Because I knew what was coming. When someone gives you a death sentence, you remember it, to say the least.” Jaenisch graduated from CSUSM in December 2008. Only a few weeks later, the trouble started. He attempted to begin the same treatment program his mom had undergone, but because of denials by his mom's employer, he wasn’t able to do so for about nine months. Once the snags finally had been resolved, the 12-week regimen of interferon and ribavirin didn’t work. He experienced all the negative effects of the drugs – in his case, painful inflammation and wild emotional swings – without any decrease in his body’s viral load. A second round at double the dosage early in 2010 similarly yielded no response. By this point, more than a decade after his HCV first had been discovered, Jaenisch had descended to the most serious stage on the scale that measures liver fibrosis, or scarring. F0 equates to no fibrosis, F1 is mild, F2 is moderate, and so on. He was at F4, which indicates the presence of cirrhosis, a condition in which the liver is extensively scarred and permanently damaged. Jaenisch had reached the dreaded end-stage liver disease, which essentially meant that the ticking of his clock was only accelerating. All the while, he was encountering roadblocks in his career. He had hoped to enter the niche field of traffic economics, but graduating into the Great Recession scuttled that plan. For a time, he held a job in tech support that he found unfulfilling. The work that did bring Jaenisch joy was for a group that offered before- and after-school services for elementary and middle schools in the Poway district of his youth. He envisioned a long-term future in that field but was stymied by both the ailing economy (which led to layoffs) and his illness (he claims he was a victim of disability discrimination but chose to spend his remaining time trying to get better rather than pursue a case.) While he tried to piece together enough work to retain his vital health insurance, Jaenisch’s health continued to deteriorate. In 2014, two years into her stint as his liver doctor, Frenette proffered a grim evaluation. “She said, ‘I don’t know how you are still alive with this liver,’ ” Jaenisch recalled. “She showed me pictures and was like, ‘Your liver is an old shoe. It is not doing what it’s supposed to do. But you’re still functioning.’ ” Every moment of optimism, it seemed, was followed by a stroke of misfortune. He began taking a new drug called Sovaldi (a direct-acting antiviral, or DAA) that was considered a game-changer for HCV patients in that it had an 86% cure rate in six months. Sure enough, Jaenisch’s viral load was approaching zero and his liver was curing. But then he contracted a C. diff bacterial infection (the suspect: spoiled food from a restaurant), which caused acute liver failure and brought his HVC roaring back. He later tried another second-generation DAA – Harvoni – that sounded promising but failed in the last week of treatment. As his liver continued to deteriorate, in 2016 he became too sick for treatment and, following a now-common hospitalization, an ER physician gave him outdated medical advice, which resulted in a case of sepsis that nearly killed him. End-stage liver disease is typically a rapid descent lasting as little as two years. For Jaenisch, it was an eight-year slog, from age 22 to 30. “He was in and out of the hospital multiple times, and he nearly didn’t make it to transplant multiple times,” Frenette said. “I can’t imagine anyone going through it with the courage and strength that he did.” Even after the liver transplant, Jaenisch wasn’t out of the woods. The operation addressed the issue of the failing liver, but it didn’t eradicate the HCV (the virus lives in the bloodstream). Frenette advised a treatment plan of Sovaldi, Zepatier and ribavirin, and that pharmaceutical concoction proved to be a magical formula. In September 2017, 18 years after the fateful diagnosis, Jaenisch was cured. “Honestly, I cried,” Frenette said. “He had been through so much, and to finally get rid of this awful virus that he had lived with his entire life and had caused his liver to fail … I don’t have words.” ‘I have to be more than a self-advocate' It was during one of his dozens of hospital stays that Jaenisch decided on the next course of his life, provided he would live long enough to choose. In the fall of 2014, he had been admitted to Sharp Memorial Hospital after the HCV returned via his C. diff infection. His medical team was struggling to lower his levels of bilirubin, a substance found in bile that was causing jaundice, the yellowing of the skin now so familiar to Jaenisch. He knew that ultraviolet rays help break down bilirubin, so he convinced the nurses to bring him outside for an hour a day at peak sun. As he had theorized, his bilirubin numbers declined. “It was at that point where I was like, ‘I have to be more than a self-advocate. If I can survive through transplant, I need to go to a Master of Public Health program,’ ” Jaenisch said. “I realized that that path would help me better understand how to become an advocate not only for myself but also for others.” His commitment would be nurtured in an environment like CSUSM, as he was accepted into its accelerated MPH program. His time back at the university overlapped with the pandemic, which he took advantage of by choosing as his thesis topic the emergency use authorization of COVID-19 tests. “He was very inquisitive and passionate,” said Asherlev Santos, an associate professor of public health and Jaenisch’s thesis adviser. “Sometimes that passion was more visible than the evidence of the inquiry, but all came from a place of helping others in some sort of need. He used his personal and professional experience to spur on what he did for his MPH degree.” His master’s allowed him to land his job at Open Biopharma, but it’s passion that mostly fuels Jaenisch in his advocacy connected to HCV. In 2016, while his body was still racked with the disease, he traveled to Sacramento with an organization known as CalHEP to talk to state legislators and raise awareness about viral hepatitis. The next year, when Congress was preparing to vote on a bill to repeal the Affordable Care Act, Jaenisch enlisted in the fight. He told his story of overcoming HCV in half a dozen TV interviews, worked at a call center, wrote letters – he did so much that the American Liver Foundation named him its liver champion of the year. “I wanted to preserve the things that help people get access to health care,” he said. “Because to me, it saved my life.” He also has volunteered for state and local groups such as End the Epidemics, the California Department of Public Health and the Eliminate Hepatitis C San Diego County Initiative. Their shared objective (in line with a goal established by the World Health Organization) is to eliminate hep C by 2030, which means a reduction of new infections by 90% and deaths by 65%. And the barriers are much lower than they used to be. Jaenisch says his family spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on treatment and other expenses to keep him alive. Today, treatment could run as cheap as a few hundred dollars, and that’s for more effective drugs, too. “I was raised in a middle-class suburban household, and I wouldn’t have known I had hep C if I didn’t pee a brown color,” Jaenisch said. “I’ve always maintained that I think we’re missing a lot of people, and I keep trying to push for us to find them and knock this virus out. We’re taking a lot of steps, and eventually we’ll get there.” Thanks to Jaenisch’s focus on access and innovation, those steps are becoming strides – toward a healthier, more equitable future for all. Media Contact Brian Hiro, Communications Specialist bhiro@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7306


