Ever since Cal State San Marcos student-athlete Jada Blake was 6 years old, the volleyball court had been her sanctuary — a place where family issues and everyday struggles could fade into the background, leaving just her and the game. That was, until she reached her freshman year of high school.    Quickly, the court she loved so much became a source of distress, and Blake found herself faced with her biggest opponent yet: depression.  “I stopped caring about volleyball,” Blake said. “I even ended up not finishing club that year. I was just going through a lot mentally and couldn’t continue having that pressure on my shoulders.”  Blake began skipping school to cope with her loss of motivation and overwhelming anxiety. She no longer had the desire to connect with her peers and spent most of her time isolated from loved ones. As Blake disappeared inside of herself, she found it increasingly difficult to face the outside world.  “My house was walking distance from school, so my mom would drop me off and I would just walk back home once she was at work,” Blake said. “I didn’t want to be at school. I knew I would just go to the bathroom and cry.”  Blake was raised in a single-parent household. Her father, who died in July 2023, was not in the picture due to addiction issues, so Blake grew up surrounded by her mom, older sister and younger brother. Having only each other to rely on, they became a team, always ready to support one another.    As Blake’s streak of unexcused absences continued to grow, her mom learned of the situation from Blake’s high school counselor. Taken aback by her daughter acting so out of character, she knew it was time to intervene.    “Jada’s freshman year was a struggle,” said Brianna Becker, Blake’s mom. “I would get that automated phone call every day at 4 p.m. saying your child missed class. There were even times I left work early and would find her at home. So, I started staying at home more and going into work late. Anything I could to make sure she went to school.    “As a young single mom with no child support, it was just us most of the time. I feel like I grew up with them. I always want my kids to be open with me, and I feel like they can come to me about anything in the world. If there’s something I can’t do for them, we’ll figure it out together.”  Blake’s first year of high school progressed, and with the help of her family, she started to throw herself back into school and social activities. As she regained a sense of motivation, she felt ready to resume her athletic pursuits as well. Her sophomore year, she kickstarted a long-standing reunion with the court and concluded the last three years of her high school sports career on a high, playing on varsity and being a candidate for league player of the year.    Unfortunately, when it came time to explore colleges, her volleyball recruiting process was derailed by the pandemic. During such a time of uncertainty, it was practical for Blake to stay with family and attend community college in her hometown of Phoenix. There, she gained a strong foothold on her academics and started to feel confident in her schoolwork.   “In high school, academics didn’t come naturally to me,” Blake said. “I always felt discouraged in that realm. I knew that I wanted to go to college, and while my sister had academic scholarships that were taking her there, I didn’t have that. I only had volleyball, and I had left it for a time.   “You don’t realize when you’re super young that just one semester of making the wrong decisions and not prioritizing the right things can throw a lot of opportunities down the drain. My sophomore, junior and senior year were mainly just focused on fixing my freshman year.    “But I’m actually very happy that I started with community college because it helped me with the transition from high school to university. Those two years in junior college taught me so much about how I could excel as a first-generation student athlete. In fact, that first semester after the pandemic was my first semester ever getting straight A’s.”   When it came time for Blake to transfer to a four-year college, she was introduced to CSUSM’s head volleyball coach, Andrea Leonard. It felt like an instant connection between the two, and Blake knew she had found the school for her. As she made the plunge and moved to California last fall, she felt like she could finally breathe. She had earned her scholarship and could now play volleyball while pursuing a bachelor’s degree in communication.   Blake’s freshman year of high school was no longer a regretful memory, but a marker of her resilience and ability to overcome any challenge thrown her way.  “I knew Jada was going to be an impactful player in our program,” Leonard said. “She really embodies all the core values that we look for, someone who is resilient, accountable and driven. She has this energy that bounces off the team and brings joy to everyone around her.”  Blake lives with her great aunt, a local volleyball legend in the San Diego area, and her great aunt’s daughter, a fellow volleyball player. Although she was initially anxious about moving away from her family and falling back into old habits, Blake found a second home, dubbed “the volleyball house,” where she is excitedly taking on this new journey and staying on top of her volleyball and academic commitments.  After her freshman year, Blake learned the importance of seeking outside help when needed. She now stays on top of her mental health by meeting with a therapist and talking with her family every day. They are her biggest supporters and regularly make the six-hour drive to San Marcos to watch her games. Knowing she can always count on her family to be by her side, Blake feels like she can overcome any barrier that stands in her path, mental or physical.  “I just love watching her play,” Becker said. “I’m so proud of her and so happy that she’s in the position that she is in now. Seeing how far she has come and how things have turned around for her — it makes me emotional. At the end of the day, there’s going to be things in life that knock you down, but you have to pick yourself back up and fight for something that you are truly passionate about. And she did. And she has so much more to look forward to.”  Media Contact Eric Breier, Interim Assistant Director of Editorial and External Affairs ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

For Juliana Ortiz, ice cream is more than just a dessert.   Ortiz still gets nostalgic recalling childhood trips to Rite Aid to grab Thrifty’s ice cream with her parents. Her go-to flavor was chocolate, and it brought her comfort every time she ate it.   Ortiz cherished the little things. Going for chocolate ice cream with her mom and dad may have seemed ordinary to others. But for her, growing up in a low-income family, it was always a special moment.   “Ice cream was always a reward,” Ortiz said. “I had to do something good to get it. Every time I had ice cream, it was always that sense of accomplishing something, even if it was something small.”   Now, as a business owner, Ortiz looks for special moments like these through customers at her own ice cream shop. Entrepreneurship was never something on her radar, but that changed at Cal State San Marcos. It was a combination of fond memories of eating ice cream with her family and realizing that ice cream shops have the happiest clientele.   “No one goes to an ice cream shop angry, right?” Ortiz said. “Customers are either really happy because they're with family or friends or they've had a really bad day and they want a pick-me-up.”    Since graduating from CSUSM in 2018 with a degree in marketing, Ortiz has launched a successful ice cream business, Cali Cream, with her husband, Ken Schulenburg. Ortiz has helped craft 55 different flavors, including her childhood favorite, chocolate.   Quality is paramount. Cali Cream ice cream is made with 16% butterfat, compared with an average of 12% for most ice cream companies.    “We get it shipped from the farm to us within seven days,” Ortiz said. “It's only seven days from cow to cone.”    Since opening steps from Moonlight Beach in Encinitas in 2016, Cali Cream has expanded to include a bakery and a second ice cream location in San Diego’s downtown Gaslamp Quarter. Cali Cream also has been featured at special events like Comic-Con International and concerts at the Rady Shell at Jacobs Park.    “I don't know if there was ever a moment where the lightbulb went off,” Ortiz said, “but I think there are times where you're in a place in your life where you just say, ‘Hey, I want to do something different.’ ”    Ortiz came to CSUSM looking for a change, intending to create a better life for her daughter, Leslie.   When she was 16, Ortiz learned that she was pregnant. Telling her parents was difficult, and she didn’t want them to be disappointed in her or think it would keep her from having a successful future.    “It was extremely hard,” she said. “You never want to disappoint your parents. And you never want to do anything that they think might hold you back. Sometimes kids make mistakes. I've learned from it, but I think I've turned it around. I also believe that there are certain things that just kind of happen for a reason, and I feel like she's my biggest motivator. We’ve grown up together.”   Leslie was born prematurely, weighing just 4 pounds. Ortiz was facing adult responsibilities at a young age, but Leslie was a constant source of inspiration and motivation.    “At that time, it was so difficult to try to navigate everything,” Ortiz said. “But I ended up just striving forward again. I'm not going to be a statistic. I'm not going to let something like that hold me back. I needed to give my family – and I needed to give my daughter – a good example.”    When Ortiz was introduced to Rebeca Perren, a CSUSM marketing professor and former faculty mentor in the College of Business Administration’s mentorship program, she was clear that going back to school at age 30 was all for Leslie. And Perren was excited by the possibility of helping Latina students because when she was a student, she rarely saw people like her in the classroom.   “I wanted to help students who were like me,” Perren said. “And just by chance, Juliana was the student who was assigned to me. I got to know Juliana and her story, not just as a first-generation college student, but as a mother. She had a teenage daughter and she wanted to get her degree before her daughter went off to college. I had children myself, and we connected on so many different levels.”   Perren and Ortiz would meet to discuss class assignments and the struggles of being Latina in higher education. Ortiz saw that Perren regularly met with other business students, and she suggested that they all come together and start gathering as a group.    Perren invited Josefina Espino and Chris Santos to join, and they all bonded instantly. They met twice a month, usually at the campus Starbucks, and talked about how they pictured their lives after college.    The mentor group evolved into CoBA’s Latino Business Student Association, with Perren serving as the faculty adviser for seven years. Espino remembers when Ortiz revealed to the group that she was interested in entrepreneurship and wanted to start an ice cream business. Ortiz and Espino even used her business idea for a research project in a marketing class taught by professor Kristin Stewart.    Starting a path to entrepreneurship was exciting, but also nerve-racking for Ortiz. She didn’t know how she would balance being a student and mother while quitting her job as a marketing coordinator at Pacific Records, Inc. in San Diego.    “I remember one of the most important conversations I had to have with Juliana was about being generous to herself,” Perren said. “She, of course, had so much to offer, and one of the most difficult decisions she had to make was investing in herself. She is such a generous and loyal person. It felt difficult to let go of some of her commitments and give back to herself.”    Now, as an entrepreneur, Ortiz shows her generosity in the creative ways she connects with her customers and employees. When a customer comes into Cali Cream and talks about an ice cream flavor that holds significance for them, Ortiz goes out of her way to make it.    “Ice cream is such an emotional product,” Ortiz said. “We've made special request ice cream orders, because maybe it's a birthday present or it’s their parents' favorite. It’s so cool because I get to be the decision-maker. I can say yes or no, but if someone were to ask any other ice cream company, the answer is always going to be no. But my goal is to always make people happy.”   One of the most rewarding parts of Ortiz’s job is supporting her employees through college. It’s her way of giving back. A photo wall in the Encinitas location displays the logos of the colleges that her employees are attending. Ortiz even established a rule that if an employee performs well during the summer, they are guaranteed a job when they come home from college.    “I remember going to Cali Cream and seeing that the tip jar said ‘college fund’ on it,” Perren said. “It’s really awesome to see how college is built into the company culture. It's great when you see our alumni not only make a difference in their own life, but also how she can inspire and create social mobility in her family and in our community.”   Juliana Ortiz  Major at CSUSM: Business marketing   Graduation year: 2018  Company: Cali Cream  Website: calicreamicecream.com  Founded: 2016  Number of employees: 35-80 (depending on the season)    Talking Business With Juliana Ortiz What’s the best advice you received about starting a business?  Do what feels right for you and don’t be afraid to take risks. Not every risk is going to be successful, but there's certain risks that are very rewarding. I think if you do your work and research time, then it minimizes the damage.     What advice would you give budding entrepreneurs?  I would say go for it. I think you never want to regret not making a decision because of the fear of failure.     What’s the greatest challenge in starting your own business?  The greatest challenge for me was trying to understand the process for getting health permits.    Knowing what you know now, is there anything you would have done differently?  For us, it's a weather-based ice business. I have to look at weather for the next week and for the next couple of days to see how it impacts our business. That’s something that most people don't think about.   I would also make sure to work with a team and ensure that if there's a new product, we have to educate them. If your team's not good and if they're not educated, it falls back on you. They also don't want to be put in a position where they don't know how to communicate to their guests.    What are the qualities of a good entrepreneur?  With changes in just about anything, whether it’s regulation or COVID, you have to be able to adapt and you have to be able to transition.  Media Contact Bri Phillips, Communications Specialist bphillips@csusm.edu

I’m proud to be of American Indian, Guamanian and Mexican heritage. But I’m not going to lie – being from a multicultural background comes with more than its share of challenges.  There are many days when you feel like you're never good enough, never enough for the population that you’re around that particular day.  Some days, I'm not Native enough because I'm not fully Native or because I don't speak my Native language. Other days, I’m not as Mexican as others if I’m not speaking Spanish consistently. Or it could be my lack of a certain tattoo to represent my Pacific Islander heritage.  I’ve learned over time to switch between those identities – usually without even thinking about it – depending on the circle of people I’m with in that moment. It’s like a light switch that I can turn on and off as needed.  But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Emphasizing one of my identities over the others can also bring about self-doubt and sadness because I’m doing it to be accepted by the person or group I’m with in that moment.  I’m grateful that my time at Cal State San Marcos has helped me navigate those challenges.  My journey in higher education been a windy road, from starting at the University of Hawaii-Manoa as a marine biology major to earning three associate degrees at Grossmont College to now finishing my bachelor’s in psychological science this spring at CSUSM.  It’s certainly not a traditional path, and there were many days that I worried about not living up to some imaginary timeline of how long it was supposed to take me to get my degree.   Today, I can appreciate an untraditional journey that has taken six years to complete. And I’m especially thankful that this path led me to CSUSM. It’s here that I reconnected with my American Indian heritage while also having the opportunity to fully appreciate and explore my Guamanian and Mexican identities.  I am a descendant of Navajo Nation, and my clan spans the four corners of Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico and Utah. Most of my family lives in Arizona, including half on the reservation. I spent much of my childhood growing up in Arizona near my Native family. But I lost touch with much of that part of my identity as a teenager when we moved to San Diego. Even though Southern California is home to a significant Native population, it’s always different when you’re coming from a different place and not used to the customs or practices.  While different tribes have many shared experiences, I'm also cognizant of being a guest here because this is not my traditional homeland. There’s a responsibility to show respect for where you are, respect for the land and knowing that this isn't mine personally or my ancestors’. It's about finding the proper balance.  That’s something I’ve strived to do at CSUSM. When I came here, I didn’t even know the university offered an American Indian studies major. My first American Indian studies course came when I saw it being offered to fulfill an upper division general education requirement. I was fortunate that my professor, Lara Aase, encouraged me to visit the California Indian Culture and Sovereignty Center on campus. That led me to meeting Joely Proudfit, the center’s director and the department chair of American Indian studies, and learning about the American Indian Student Alliance (AISA).  I’ve had the privilege over the past year of serving as president of AISA, which was honored by CSUSM’s Student Leadership & Involvement Center as the Student Organization of the Year for 2021-22. I also joined Associated Students, Inc., as the representative for diversity and inclusion. In this role, I’ve worked to ease racial tensions and create a space where dialogue and conversation can occur.   It has been rewarding to see so many different organizations, both cultural and religious, come together. We know that we won’t resolve every issue or problem, but acknowledging that we see one another and recognize one another is a step in the right direction. We try to focus on how we can help and uplift each other.  My multiculturalism has been a tremendous asset in this work. It’s allowed me to be an ally for so many groups on campus. As AISA president, I’ve encouraged members of our organization to embrace and learn about other cultural and religious groups on campus. And doing so doesn’t invalidate our identity, it’s simply making space for others to also be recognized and seen, something that so many groups are fighting for on campus.  One of the biggest opportunities we have is to continue fostering an environment where all groups have space to grow and be recognized.  It’s something that’s a big part of where I am at now, too, as a person. I’ve learned through my higher education journey the importance of communicating your thoughts because, ultimately, we’re all trying to advocate for ourselves. And that’s an important lesson for everyone, because if you don't advocate for yourself, no one else is going to do it for you.   Self-advocacy is a skill that takes practice, to be sure. But once learned, it allows you to better express your concerns, helps people hear you in a non-adversarial way and makes them more inclined to listen. And that's what will bring about that change that we all want to see.  Media Contact Eric Breier, Public Affairs Specialist ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

It’s been more than three decades, but Mary Gonzales still remembers the Friday meetings with Star Rivera-Lacey at an IHOP in Oceanside.  Gonzales referred to these regular meetups as her “counseling sessions” because Rivera-Lacey always shared sound advice. The two friends would chat over a cup of coffee and, if they were lucky and had enough money, share a piece of pie.  When Gonzales was struggling, Rivera-Lacey would ask, “On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being world poverty, where does this problem fall?”   Gonzales would typically respond with a low number on the scale, but the exercise helped her see her problems from a different perspective.   “It taught me to stop sweating the small stuff,” said Gonzales, who is now retired from the San Diego County Office of Education. “That was one of her biggest powers, because now I share it with my own kids and I've shared it with other students. And I've heard people give it back and tell me the same thing. She always had that optimism of looking ahead.”  That optimism continues to this day as Rivera-Lacey has grown from poverty in childhood to earning a Ph.D. and today serving as the first Latina superintendent/president of Palomar College. It was that ability to remain optimistic during challenging times that helped her become the first in her family to graduate from college when she received a bachelor’s degree in liberal studies at Cal State San Marcos.  It seems Rivera-Lacey’s parents knew she had a bright future from the moment they named her.  "My mom really wanted me to have aspirations and picked the highest thing in the sky,” Rivera-Lacey said. “That's why she named me Star.”  Money was always tight for Rivera-Lacey as a child growing up in Oceanside. Her parents immigrated from El Salvador before she was born, and they always stressed the importance of a college degree to allow her to have a promising career and future.  With her parents’ encouragement, Rivera-Lacey cultivated a passion for learning from a young age. She saw how they worked to improve their English by taking ESL classes at Palomar. Sometimes they even took Rivera-Lacey with them. Little could they have imagined that, almost four decades later, she would return to lead that very college.  But Rivera-Lacey’s path to becoming a higher education professional wasn’t an easy one.   Just as she was about to graduate from El Camino High School, she learned she was one class short. Her counselor recommended taking a physical education class at MiraCosta College to get the extra credits she needed to graduate on time.  Rivera-Lacey signed up for a hip-hop dance course, but getting to class was always a challenge. She was constantly searching for a ride or scavenging for gas money to make it to MiraCosta.   But once there, Rivera-Lacey was introduced to Extended Opportunity Programs and Services, or EOPS, which provides access to financial assistance and support services for low-income students. The program counselors reassured Rivera-Lacey that she could have a future pursuing a college education after she graduated from high school.   Rivera-Lacey gathered a strong support system at MiraCosta. When she wasn’t sure how to navigate the complex college system, the counselors helped her every step of the way. She also had the endless encouragement of her parents. And when she met Gonzales, they formed a quick bond because they understood each other's struggles as first-generation college students.  “I had a family, and she was single. But for some reason, when we met, we clicked really well,” Gonzales said. “We were both struggling financially. She had a car that she named Herman, and I had a truck. Sometimes Herman worked, and sometimes my truck worked. But my car had a hole at the bottom, and Star was always afraid that she would fall through when it was my turn to drive.”  Car troubles weren’t the only obstacle. Rivera-Lacey was juggling her academic pursuits while working full-time to make ends meet. Sometimes that meant a second job. But Rivera-Lacey remembers the relief she felt when EOPS helped ease the expenses of her classes, including a grant to help pay for books.  While trying to balance work and school, Rivera-Lacey needed five years to obtain enough credits to transfer to a four-year university. But MiraCosta’s EOPS counselors never wavered in their support. If she needed to take a semester off to focus on work, they would welcome her back every time with open arms.   “There was no judgment,” Rivera-Lacey said. “They offered me complete acceptance, which made all the difference in the world. I never had to feel embarrassed, and that's so special.”  Rivera-Lacey continued to receive that type of support when she transferred to CSUSM. She was also grateful to land an on-campus job. After working in retail throughout her time at MiraCosta and constantly battling to get the work schedule she needed to attend classes, it was a relief to be working on a college campus.  “I have had a million careers,” Rivera-Lacey said. “But one of the best things that happened when I was at CSUSM is that I worked in a department that used to be called Student Affirmative Action and Outreach.”   This job was nothing like the ones Rivera-Lacey had before. She would visit students from local elementary and high schools and get them excited about a future in higher education.   Elementary school kids also visited CSUSM. Rivera-Lacey remembers the paper cutouts of graduation caps for kids to try on and fake checks to take to the bookstore to simulate the financial aid process.  “CSUSM was so forward-thinking by doing that kind of community outreach,” Rivera-Lacey said. “I'm not surprised at all to see the success that Cal State has now. They've been investing in the community for so many years.”  While Rivera-Lacey was helping other students get enthused about the possibility of attending college, she came to a realization as she watched people from similar backgrounds succeed in their jobs at CSUSM – she needed to continue her higher education journey and pursue a career in the field.  Rivera-Lacey worked alongside her friend Sabrina Sanders in the Student Affirmative Action and Outreach program. Sanders, who received a bachelor’s and master’s from CSUSM, also decided to pursue a career in higher ed because she and Rivera-Lacey saw themselves in the students they were serving and the impact of reaching underserved communities.   “The co-curricular experience as student assistants prepared and inspired us to our careers in higher education,” said Sanders, who also earned a doctorate from Alliant International University and is now the director of the Toro Reengagement Program at California State University Dominguez Hills. “As a first-generation Latina, Rivera-Lacey had an impact on the elementary, high school and community college students that was powerful. Her college journey, experiences and representation continue to inspire and exemplify the values and opportunities that education provides and her parents instilled in her. Promoting access, equity and student success is more than a job for President Rivera-Lacey – it’s a calling.”  When Rivera-Lacey received her bachelor’s in liberal studies in 1995, it was a life-changing moment for her parents to watch the first person in their family graduate from college.   “I think when you experience poverty and with every semester that I got under my belt, it was like one step closer to freedom,” Rivera-Lacey said.   Rivera-Lacey saw how her financial situation started to improve after earning her bachelor’s, but there were still challenges. When she was pursuing a master’s in counseling at San Diego State University, Rivera-Lacey remembers driving to take her final knowing she wouldn’t have enough gas to get home nor the money to fill her tank.   “I remember clearly walking on the freeway,” she said. “I do not recommend that anybody get on the freeway, but one of my friends came and rescued me. And to this day, it is one of the stories that we laugh about, right?  “There are going to be obstacles in the way, doors that close, but there's always a window that's open. If you just put one foot forward, the road will rise to meet. There are so many people who are in education that love what they do and believe in students. You'll find the help.”  Rivera-Lacey never let any of the obstacles she faced get in the way of her end goal. She received her master's in counseling at SDSU in 1997 and eventually returned to school to get her Ph.D. in education from Claremont Graduate University in 2016.   Rivera-Lacey knew she wanted to center her career around what she loved: student success. And she stayed with her passion for higher education for 17 years, which led her to become the superintendent/president of Palomar College in 2021.   Just as when she was a child, Rivera-Lacey still has the same passion for continuing to grow and learn – and she’s in a position to inspire others to do the same as she works to build on Palomar’s success.   Rivera-Lacey knows firsthand the struggles that so many students face, and she serves as a shining example to those who may never have seen a Latina college president.   “I'm very, very surprised at people's reaction,” Rivera-Lacey said. “I remember during commencement, a student wanted to hug me because they’ve never seen a Latina president. And another student thanked me because their parents were able to understand the ‘Superintendent/President’s Welcome’ because we did it both in English and Spanish, which shows that representation does matter.  “I tell people all the time, ‘I might be the first Latina Palomar superintendent/president, but I won't be the last.’ ”  Media Contact Eric Breier, Public Affairs Specialist ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

Joshua Foronda knows all too well the struggles that many freshmen face as they adjust to college. Foronda failed multiple classes during his first year at Cal State San Marcos, landing on academic probation with a 0.6 grade-point average during the spring of his freshman year and contemplating dropping out of school. But Foronda is nothing if not resilient, and his GPA climbed to 3.3 by the time he graduated in 2018 with degrees in criminology and justice studies and sociology. Today, Foronda uses his experiences as an undergraduate to help a new generation of CSUSM first-year students in his role as a student success coach for the burgeoning Office of Success Coaching. “Students feel like it’s the end of the world when their grades are not on point,” Foronda said. “But I tell students that every setback leads to a bigger comeback.” The Office of Success Coaching is transforming the way CSUSM serves first-year students, providing personalized support services to ensure that newly admitted students thrive. Launched during the pandemic, the program already has garnered national attention for its innovative approach, with CSUSM receiving the 2021 American Association of State Colleges and Universities (AASCU) Excellence and Innovation Award for Student Success. AASCU, which includes nearly 400 state-supported colleges and universities throughout the country, honored the Office of Success Coaching for its outstanding results and potential to influence and serve as a model for other institutions. “There's so much pressure and students are trying to be so many things to so many people,” said Valita Jones, the office’s founding director.  “The Office of Success Coaching gives them a pathway.” The concept and framework for what would become the Office of Success Coaching was in place before the pandemic, with Jones – then serving as CSUSM’s director for recruitment and outreach – using grant funds to acclimate first-year students to college life. But the onset of COVID-19 accelerated plans and helped shape the program. Jones met with CSUSM President Ellen Neufeldt in the early days of the pandemic to share details about the onboarding program she was overseeing. And Neufeldt took the opportunity to tell Jones about the success coaching program at Old Dominion University, where Neufeldt served as vice president for Student Engagement and Enrollment Services before coming to CSUSM in 2019. Neufeldt wanted to bring a similar program to CSUSM and saw opportunity in the work that had already been started. As the Office of Success Coaching was formally launched, one of the first moves was bringing Jay Franklin, the director of recruitment and customer relationship management administrator for Extended Learning, aboard as the program’s associate director – and it didn’t take much convincing to get him to join the effort. “It was a dream,” Franklin said. “I said, ‘This is a job? You're going to pay me to do something that I have always dreamed about doing?’ I don't even call it a job. This is a purpose. “We’re not just there academically for students; it's personal relationship-building. And the end goal of any degree at Cal State San Marcos is not just the degree, it’s to help them understand how to network and connect.” With some departments and programs unable to provide normal offerings early in the pandemic, nearly two dozen employees – including staff from athletics, campus recreation and events, among others – were redeployed to help launch the Office of Success Coaching. Sherri Watson, the executive director for Old Dominion’s Career Development Services and Coaching, was brought on as a consultant to train CSUSM’s success coaches and prepare them to work with students.   While some of the original student success coaches have returned to their former roles, the remaining team (which now includes graduate interns) works in a similar manner to a life coach. They start at the beginning of the student life cycle and aim to solidify a structured pathway for students to reach their end goal, which is to both earn their degree and pivot into a career. That includes helping students set goals, reminding them about important deadlines, and having general conversations about aspirations. Those conversations proved invaluable for Priscilla Al-Rayes, a criminology and justice studies student. Foronda was assigned as her success coach, and his persistent emails eventually prompted Al-Rayes to make an appointment. Their discussions covered everything from academics to time management to life skills. When Al-Rayes asked Foronda for his thoughts about joining CSUSM’s Orientation Team, which assists with campus tours and orientation sessions for new students, Foronda was able to share his own experiences as an O-Team member and even helped prep Al-Rayes for the interview. “No one knows what college is going to be like until you’re actually in college,” Al-Rayes said. “Your success coach is here to push you through that and get you to where you need to go. “I’m someone who needs that personal experience to understand something, and having a coach who has that personal experience to share is probably the best thing about the Office of Success Coaching. He’s already been through it all and I’m just starting, so I know almost exactly what to expect by talking to him. That really has eased my anxiety when applying to things and going to events and things like that.” Foronda takes pride in sharing with his students how he practices what he preaches. When he encourages students like Al-Rayes to build connections with professors and staff, he also tells them how the relationships he developed as a CSUSM student led to recommendations from people like Annie Macias, executive director of Associated Students, Inc., and Floyd Lai, director of the Cross-Cultural Center. Now Foronda proudly calls them colleagues. It’s not difficult for Foronda to relate to the students he mentors. Sure, he’s only a few years removed from receiving his bachelor’s, but he too was navigating school, work and family during the pandemic like so many of them. In May 2021, he received his master’s in counseling from San Diego State. “When I graduated, I sent all my students a video and said, ‘Hey, this is going to be you in a few years.’ I wanted to let them know that if I can do it during the pandemic, I know they can, too. “One thing I’ve learned: It takes a village to raise a child, but it takes a university to graduate a student.” Media Contact Eric Breier, Public Affairs Specialist ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

From the time I was born until I was 7 years old, I grew up in what seemed like an average middle-class household. My parents and I lived comfortably with few financial concerns.  But that all changed when I was in second grade and a car accident altered the trajectory of our lives. Today, almost 14 years after that accident, I still feel the reverberations as I navigate the challenges of being a low-income student while working toward becoming the first person in my family to earn a college degree.  The day of our car accident was supposed to be a special day. My sister, Ashley, was just a couple of months old, and we were venturing beyond routine errands for the first time since she was born to go apple picking about an hour away from our Temecula home.  Despite doing my best not to fall asleep during the drive, I woke up to our vehicle flipping over after being struck, I later learned, by a hit-and-run driver. Our car flipped multiple times on the freeway, and Ashley’s car seat buckle came undone. My first instinct was to try to hold her car seat down. Ashley escaped with minor scratches while my mom and I just had some bruises.  My dad wasn’t as lucky. He broke his neck and was in a coma for several days. I remember him lying in a hospital bed, not knowing if he would survive.  My dad was our sole financial provider, and he was unable to work during the lengthy recovery process. The mounting medical bills and expenses eventually forced my parents to file for bankruptcy.  The accident also took an emotional toll. My parents separated not long afterward. Though it has been over a decade since they split, they continue to live under the same roof leading separate lives because of our financial circumstances.  We didn’t have money for after-school or extracurricular activities, nor many opportunities to explore interests or passions. And college was never a topic of discussion. No one in my family has ever finished college, and my parents were largely indifferent, leaving me to determine my own path.  As a high school senior, I had difficulty envisioning my future. I watched my peers embrace their excitement about getting accepted into prestigious universities while I was still figuring out the application process. I was unfamiliar with financial aid and how it could help pay for college. It seemed like my classmates had their lives figured out while I was struggling just to complete my FAFSA, the federal form used to determine financial aid eligibility.  It has always been an unspoken rule in my family never to talk about money or finances because it always ends in a heated argument. I had to scavenge through my parents’ taxes to try to fill out the FAFSA on my own. When I finally built up the courage to ask my dad for help, it was hard for him to understand the significance of the application. He didn’t want to share personal financial information and didn’t grasp that completing the FAFSA was what would make attending college financially feasible.  Filling out the FAFSA is still an emotional process every year, and one that I have to explain to my dad each time. But our financial status means that I qualify for a Pell Grant, which helps me pay for college. Learning that I was eligible for a Pell Grant was such a relief. Not only does it mean I can avoid potentially crippling loans, but it helps my parents focus on their needs without worrying about college expenses.  After high school, I enrolled at Palomar College and joined TRIO SSS, an organization that advises low-income and first-generation students to encourage academic success. It was inspiring to be surrounded by successful students who come from similar backgrounds. I was excited to learn about the help TRIO SSS provides for first-generation college students like myself, and it showed me that I could achieve my goals regardless of my background.  I was grateful to continue being part of TRIO SSS after completing my associate degree in communication at Palomar and transferring to Cal State San Marcos last fall.  At CSUSM, I have received overwhelming support, which has helped me further my education and figure out my career path. The university emphasizes hands-on learning, and I have had the opportunity to work as a writer in the University Communications office where I’m gaining valuable skills and guidance as I look toward a career in communications after I graduate in May 2023.  CSUSM has opened the door for me to feel more confident about my future. I am building a strong portfolio for future employers, and the positive work environment in University Communications has encouraged career exploration and connections to set me up for success.  During my first semester at CSUSM last fall, I juggled two jobs to ease the financial burden on my family while trying to balance a full course load. It wasn’t easy, but I’m proud of achieving straight A’s in my first semester at the university, and having a strong support system at CSUSM was an important part of making that happen.  After completing my bachelor’s degree, I’m looking forward to finding a job that allows me to use the written communication skills that I am developing through my work in University Communications.  I still dread filling out the FAFSA, and it’s an ongoing challenge to navigate the complexities of the higher education system. But I know that all of the difficulties will be worth it. Not only because I’ll be the first in my family to earn a college degree, but also because I’ll be able to help my sister forge an easier path to college and financial independence. I strive each day to set a positive example for Ashley. I encourage her to explore her passions now so she will have more direction than I did when she heads to college in four years.  The car accident that my family survived 14 years ago changed many aspects of my life, but I’m able to look to the future with optimism. I’ve learned valuable lessons about determination and perseverance, lessons that have helped me develop a strong motivation to redirect my path.  Media Contact Eric Breier, Public Affairs Specialist ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

Greg Reese loved the outdoors as a kid growing up in Orange County. It didn’t matter if it was the beach, camping or the river. And when he wasn’t enjoying nature, he was busy playing soccer, including two seasons for Cal State San Marcos after transferring from Orange Coast College in 2007. But it’s safe to say Reese never once imagined that all those hours spent outdoors would lead to what has become his passion. “I remember there was one farm still in my neighborhood growing up that had cows and little sheep and chickens,” Reese said, “but I never thought I was going to be farming growing up. It just kind of happened after I was 30.” Today, Reese is a regenerative farmer working to fight injustices in the food system by growing healthy produce for people who otherwise might not have access. Reese is a co-founder of Encinitas-based nonprofit Sea + Soil, which aims to “reconnect and regenerate ecosystems and community.” Among the programs under the Sea + Soil umbrella is 1000 Tiny Farms, which Reese pioneered to help explore how small patches of land could have a positive social, environmental and economic impact. “We focus a lot on the nutrient density and nutritional value of the produce,” Reese said. “If we can grow food without a need for heavy chemical inputs, then the soil will be better, therefore the plants are better, therefore the humans are better. It's kind of like a slogan that many people have probably heard before – food as medicine.” Reese’s interest in healthy food began while he was working at Stone Brewing in Escondido. He ate a salad there that proved life-changing. “I never felt so good after eating a salad,” he said. “It was noticeably energizing. And they sourced from a local farm in Escondido at the time. It was just so fresh. When I played soccer at Cal State San Marcos, I noticed that when I was eating fresher vegetables, I just felt good and I had more energy. Before that it was mostly meat and carbs. When I started incorporating fresh veggies, it was a game-changer.” Contributing to the greater good is part of Reese’s DNA, and he spent time working in solar energy and water reclamation before focusing his efforts on farming. He worked with the Worldwide Opportunities on Organic Farms, which helps “build a global community conscious of ecological farming and sustainability practices.” While some may be surprised to learn that Reese earned his degree in business administration with an emphasis in marketing, he says his CSUSM education plays a role in his work every day, from manufacturing to distribution to marketing. In fact, Reese hopes to partner with his alma mater on many aspects of farming. He has thriving farms in Cardiff and Valley Center that can always use volunteers to assist with the physical aspects, but he said there also is a need for expertise with the scientific aspects of farming, including soil testing, identifying biological organisms in the soil, plant tissue analysis, and more. “I think it’s important to know where your food comes from,” Reese said. “Don’t be fooled by labeling. There’s a lot of smoke and mirrors, and it helps to know where your food comes from.” Media Contact Eric Breier, Public Affairs Specialist ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

Roberto Cano and Edgar Salazar are about to launch a business that has the potential to transform scientific research in Mexico with one simple goal: making it more affordable. Cano and Salazar are developing a Tijuana-based company, SinerLab, that will introduce an innovative online sharing platform for reagents, equipment and services to address the deficit of laboratory resources faced by many scientists in Mexico. This creative solution will both reduce costs and increase availability of the critical supplies needed for research and development. “José and I talk about how we develop science in the United States and how there is a huge gap in research and development in Mexico,” Salazar said. “There are good institutions in Mexico, but they are lacking in technology.” Cano and Salazar each launched their careers in Mexico after earning their undergraduate degrees — Cano in medicinal and pharmaceutical chemistry and Salazar in agricultural mechanical engineering. Their paths didn’t cross until after both had moved to the United States and enrolled in the Master of Biotechnology: A Professional Science Master’s Degree (MBt) at Cal State San Marcos. For his capstone project, Cano was working on a nonprofit business plan to match San Diego biotech companies that could donate used equipment with researchers in Mexico who need access to equipment. Realizing ultimately that this plan was not viable — import/export procedures alone were prohibitive — he quickly pivoted to a for-profit model based in Mexico with a shared online network of resources that scientists could either offer or access. “The purpose is to connect researchers within Mexico to help them make better use of the resources that are already in the country,” Cano said. “That will facilitate research and make it less expensive.” Cano’s capstone presentation caught the attention of many in the room. “José is committed to doing the right thing and serving people in need,” said Betsy Read, a founder of the MBt program and CSUSM professor of biological sciences. “One of his committee members, the CEO of a large organization in San Diego, was so impressed with what José was proposing that he asked if José was planning to move it forward.” That’s where Salazar came in. José recruited Salazar, who was in the cohort just behind him, and Salazar developed the new business plan for the online sharing company as his capstone project. The model, SinerLab, is going into pilot testing by the two graduates, who are now business partners. Both also hold full-time jobs — Salazar as a process development engineer for Illumina and Cano as a stem cell researcher for Fate Therapeutics. To move their business idea from page to lab, Cano and Salazar are working with The Founder Institute, a Silicon Valley startup accelerator that helps entrepreneurs through the early phases of their business creation. “José and Edgar are driven to help bring more science capability to Mexico and developing countries to improve the health and welfare of the people there,” said Al Kern, an MBt program founder and adviser for the SinerLab project. “When I talked to Edgar about working on the project as part of the master’s program, I told him I didn’t want it to stop there,” Cano said. “I think this is a really good idea and I want to make it real because I think we can make science more affordable and help a lot of researchers get faster results.”  Media Contact Eric Breier, Public Affairs Specialist ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

It’s easy to understand Cal State San Marcos softball coach Stef Ewing’s excitement about having Gianna Lombardi on the team. Lombardi adeptly switches positions without skipping a beat, able to start at catcher in the opening game of a doubleheader before moving to shortstop for the finale. She was one of the team’s top hitters as a freshman during the abbreviated 2020 season, and picked right up as a key contributor in 2022 after the 2021 season was canceled due to the pandemic. And she has arm strength that led one of the university’s baseball coaches to wonder aloud during a scrimmage if Lombardi can pitch – and he didn’t mean for the softball team. “Most females do not throw a ball overhand like she does,” Ewing said. “If you come to a softball game and you watch everyone play catch and then you watch Gianna pick up a ball and throw it, you don't even need any sports knowledge to know it’s a whole different level.” For the record, Ewing made it clear to the baseball coaches that Lombardi wasn’t going anywhere. But Lombardi’s value to the team goes beyond her considerable athletic ability. “You get in a room with her, and she just fills it in a positive way,” Ewing said. “She’s funny and charismatic. When new people come in and they're around our softball program and they see that she can be who she is, they know they can be who they are.” Lombardi’s infectious personality and approach to life harken to her father, Phil. The pandemic has taken a toll in so many ways, but none more difficult for Lombardi than losing her father in May 2021 to complications from glioblastoma, an aggressive form of brain cancer. Most people diagnosed with glioblastoma die of the disease within 12-18 months. Phil’s death came only seven months after his diagnosis. But the lessons Lombardi learned from her father continue to resonate. “He taught me to be proud of myself, but also to be humble,” Lombardi said. “But I think the biggest thing he ever taught me was he would always say, ‘Don’t fear failure.’ Especially in a game like softball, you fail more than you succeed when you’re hitting. I just always kept that with me.” It was something Phil knew firsthand from his days as a major league baseball player. A third-round draft pick of the New York Yankees in 1981, Phil made his major league debut with them five years later and spent parts of three seasons in the big leagues (including one with the New York Mets) before nagging injuries led to an early retirement before the 1990 season. Phil coached Lombardi’s older sisters, Lauren and Julia, in softball, and both went on to play for Long Beach State. Lombardi flirted for a short time with the idea of trying something different than her sisters, but quickly realized it was more fun playing softball and benefiting from the experience and knowledge of her father and sisters. Lombardi never had a chance to see her father play professional baseball – she was born more than a decade after he retired – but knew about his career growing up, even if she didn’t always realize when he was pulling her leg. “I didn’t really know much about the game when I was younger, and he would joke, ‘I used to play with Jackie Robinson.’ And I thought he was serious,” Lombardi said of her father’s reference to the iconic Hall of Famer who broke baseball’s color barrier in 1947 – four decades before Phil made his major league debut. “But he didn’t bring up his career around other people. He was really humble about things.” Playing catcher was a natural choice for Lombardi. After all, it was Phil’s primary position during his career. And while nepotism may be an issue on some youth softball teams, having her father as a coach didn’t come with any special favors for Lombardi. Phil even insisted on Lombardi calling him “Coach Phil” instead of dad when they were anywhere near the softball field to avoid any thoughts of favoritism. Of course, with Lombardi’s work ethic and ability, it didn’t matter if it was her dad or a complete stranger coaching – she was going to be in the lineup. Lombardi thrived at West Ranch High School in Valencia and on travel ball teams. One of her frequent adversaries was Zoe Ballen, who played at Thousand Oaks High School about 40 miles away and was also a foe in travel ball. They are teammates at CSUSM now, but Ballen still remembers being in awe of Lombardi’s boundless energy and the difficulties she presented opponents. “When I came to CSUSM, I was kind of nervous to get to know her,” said Ballen, a pitcher who frequently throws to Lombardi behind the plate. “But she just kind of exceeded my expectations of the kind of person that she is and the kind of player that she is. “She's great at communicating with all of our pitchers and has a great relationship with everyone on the team. I don't think I've ever heard a negative thing come out of her mouth. She’s just an overall great person and player.” Lombardi started all 19 games in 2020 before the pandemic brought a premature end to the season and completely wiped out the 2021 slate. But she gave a glimpse of what she’s capable of in those limited games, batting .356 and impressing Ewing and teammates with her softball acumen. “Gianna is just someone who comes in and plays and there are no norms; she's rewriting the norms,” Ewing said. “If I asked Gianna to go play third base, she’d go play third base. If I told her go into left field, she'd go into left field. She will go do anything you ask her to do. She'd run through a brick wall for anybody.” Ewing may have as many as three more seasons with Lombardi after this. The NCAA adjusted its rules on playing eligibility because of the pandemic. So while Lombardi has completed her third year at CSUSM as a biology student, she will still be a sophomore next season in her softball eligibility. All of Ewing’s players faced an adjustment this year as they completed their first full season in three years, but Lombardi had the added weight of playing her first season without her dad. Phil was a familiar face at games in 2020, sometimes observing from beyond the center field fence and other times sitting right behind home plate where he could offer encouragement (and occasionally critiques) during games. But Lombardi is persevering, just as her dad would want. “We had our offseason games during the fall, and I was kind of crying on the way to my first game,” she said. “It was my first game without my dad being there. It was kind of sad, but I always do look on the positive side of it, and now it's like I’m playing for him more than playing without him.” Media Contact Eric Breier, Public Affairs Specialist ebreier@csusm.edu | Office: 760-750-7314

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.”