Kaleidoscope, Volume 41

S P R I N G 2 0 1 1

Kaleid scopeVo l u m e 4 1T H E M A G A Z I N E O F U W C - U S A , T H E A R M A N D H A M M E R U W C O F T H E A M E R I C A N W E S T

THE WOUNDS OF WARpage 9

Coming Homepage 11

LIVING UWC AFTER UWCpage 12-13

Alumni Stories of UWC-USA’s Influence on Their Lives

The Legacy of Guatemala’s Violent History

UWC-USA as a Place for Our Best and Truest Selves

U W C - U S A / W W W . U W C - U S A . O R G2

CREDITS

editor in chief

Elizabeth Morse

contributing editor

Emily Withnall MUWCI ‘01

designer

Danielle Wollner

contributors

Abuubakar Ally ‘12

Innocent Basso ’11

Omar Yaxmehen Bello Chavolla ’11

Gert Danielsen ’96

Aminata Deme ’11

Marie Dixon Frisch ’84

Cassandra Doremus ’11

Timothy J. Dougherty

Rodrigo Erazo ’12

Nofar Hamrany ’11

Ali Jamoos ‘12

Henrik Jenssen ’12

Pedro Monque ’12

Kevin Mazariegos Moralles ’11

Natalia Bernal Restrepo ’05

Julian Rios ‘12

Kate Russell

Jake Rutherford

Arjan Stockhausen ’11

Vichea Tan ’11

Elizabeth Withnall

Bereket Zekarias ’11

contact

UWC-USA

PO Box 248

Montezuma, NM 87731

USA

505-454-4200

[email protected]

Kaleidoscope is published biannually by the UWC-USA Development Office,

for the purpose of keeping the extended UWC-USA community connected.

feedback

Send an email to [email protected],

or post a comment online at www.uwc-usa.org/read.

We look forward to hearing your comments and critiques!

P R E S I D E N T ’ S M E S S A G E :

On the cover: UWC-USA students at the Grand Canyon. Photo credit: Timothy J. Dougherty

We’re almost 30! Somehow when we turned the calendar to 2011, the proximity to 2012, and the College’s 30th anniversary, became very real to me. This marker seems a good moment to update our alumni, parents, and friends on some key events in the life of our school.

As I believe you all know, Peter Hamer-Hodges, who served the school from 1983 to 2010 and was our distinguished graduation speaker last May, departed for new adventures in his native UK. In many respects, he exemplifies the life of service and the commitment of many of our faculty. It is not surprising that, after long and distinguished tenures at UWC, other faculty members are also considering transitioning to new opportunities such as writing, consulting, or retirement. In recognition of their extraordinary service to students and the UWC movement, the board has created a transition fund to support longer serving faculty members as they move to the next chapters in their lives.

There are cases where we will not be replacing these departing faculty members. In this era, when we are juggling the challenge of the loss of value of our endowment from its peak in 2008 and facing the anticipated loss of the Armand Hammer Trust in 2013, it is only responsible to contain costs wher-ever we can. Teachers who will remain on the faculty have indicated a willingness to take on additional responsibilities to make this possible. We will also seek to reduce non-teaching staff positions through attrition over time.

What is important to me is that the giants who founded and shepherded this school and so many gen-erations of students go on to their next phase in life with honor, support, and celebration. I want you to know we’re working to do exactly that. It’s also important that you know that we will be seeking to find the next generation of great faculty members who can influence lives, participate in our intensely experiential and residential program, and deliver high intellectual content in the classroom in vital and exciting ways.

Know that as we do all of this, we do so with a clear eye on our mission and on the welfare of our students. Know that we are redoubling efforts, with considerable success and thanks to many of you, to raise more financial support. Know that we remain focused on everything central to our important purpose in the world.

As always, please let us know if you have questions. In the meanwhile, be prepared to honor the pioneers and welcome the new adventurers.

With warm best wishes from Montezuma,

Lisa A. H. Darling President

Photo credit: Arjan Stockhausen

K A L E I D O S C O P E / S P R I N G 2 0 1 1 1

Alumni, parents, trustees, get-aways, employees, and friends have come together this year to help broaden and deepen philanthropic support for UWC-USA and close the funding gap that the school will soon face.

Led by the Annual-Fund Challenge Committee, a group of leaders who pooled funds used to match gifts from oth-er supporters, the Challenge matches gifts from those who (1) become a Castle Club mem-ber and (2) double their previ-ous Annual-Fund gift.

Challenge Committee mem-bers committed a combined total of $215,000 for the Chal-lenge, and the response was strong. The Challenge was met in early February, thanks to the 132 people who made qualifying gifts.

UWC-USA is very grateful to the Challenge Committee

for inspiring scores of others to dramatically increase their support at a time when building our Annual Fund is essential to the school’s future. We are also extremely grateful for the generous donors who

are stepping up to meet the Challenge. These gifts will help transition UWC-USA to a more sustainable base of philanthropic support and strengthen the school to fulfill its mission for genera-tions to come.

If you haven’t made your Annual Fund gift yet, it’s not too late! The Annual Fund, which raises money for current-year operations, ends on May 31. Sup-port it by making a gift online at www.uwc-usa.org/give or send-ing a check to UWC-USA De-velopment Office, PO Box 248, Montezuma, NM 87731, USA.

The Annual-Fund Challenge Committee

Marc Blum, UWC-USA Trustee, Committee Chair

Sebastien de Halleux ’96

KC Kung ’87

Tom and Beverley McGuckin, current parents

Benjamin Melkman ’98 and Alexa Melkman ’99

Bill Moore, former UWC-USA Trustee and Capital Campaign Chair

Michael Stern ’89, Distinguished Trustee

James and Sarah Taylor, alumni parents and UWC-USA Trustees

Charles C. Wong ’84

Kenneth Yeung ’84

S P R I N G 2 0 1 1

TA B L E O F C O N T E N T S

A Distinctly “HK” Alumni Event 2

Opportunity 3

Possession 4

Backpack 5

Grandmother 6

A Lesson 7

Writing the World 8

The Wounds of War 9

Music is a Conversation 10

Coming Home 11

Living UWC After UWC 12-13

How I Became a Clown 14 -15

Alumni Profiles 16 -17

THE 2010-2011 ANNUAL-FUND CHALLENGE

Photo credit: Jake Rutherford


“How is UWC to remain relevant?” This was one of the many UWC-themed

topics that came up during the Hong Kong UWC-USA alumni barbeque, hosted by Charles Wong ’84 last October on Middle Is-land, Hong Kong. The answers to this question cov-ered vast ground, but some of the first alumni from the 1980’s talked at length about the importance of having mainland Chinese students regularly repre-sented at UWC-USA. While regu-lar representation of mainland Chi-nese students re-mains a long-term ambition, they agreed that with China growing in economic importance, it will be essential to ensure this representation from China to an-ticipate and further support the ideals of peace, sustainability, and the bridging of cultures.

Charles Wong ’84, Kenneth Yeung ’84, An-nie Fung ’85, Fiona Siu ’86, and KC Kung ’87 count among the senior group of Hong-Kong alumni very active in supporting and sustain-ing UWC-USA, a group that has recently established the UWC-USA Greater China

Foundation to facilitate support of the school and scholarships for students attending the school. In addition, three of these graduates, Charles Wong, Kenneth Yeung, and KC Kung, have taken a leadership role in fund-raising

for the school by becoming part of the Annual-Fund Challenge Committee for the 2010-11 school year. This com-mittee, composed of alumni, par-ents, and friends, has pledged to match gifts to this year’s annual fund from donors who double their previous gifts and join the Castle Club. More in-

formation on the challenge can be found at www.uwc-usa.org/annualfundchallenge.

This Hong Kong UWC-USA alumni gath-ering was the second event Charles Wong has hosted for UWC-USA. Charles’s dedication to UWC runs deep: “UWC-USA was such a powerful and important part of my life that I am thrilled to be able to support the school and to help foster connections among my fel-low graduates.”

A Distinctly “HK” Alumni EventEmily Withnall, MUWCI ’01Communications

Charles Wong ’84 and his mother arrived in Hong Kong at the train terminal in Kowloon from mainland China when he was twelve years old. According to Charles, this was during a time when people from mainland China were seen in Hong Kong as coarse and ill-mannered. Charles was tormented in school but nevertheless excelled academically. In spite of his lack of familial connections, which were important and highly regarded in Hong Kong society, Charles was determined, against all odds, to go to the best school in Hong Kong.

One day, he walked into an es-teemed school and asked to see the headmaster. The headmaster hap-pened to be standing near the recep-tionist, asked what he wanted, and brought him in to his office. The headmaster invited Charles to apply, and he was admitted. While he at-tended the school, Charles ran track, swam, and played the violin—things he still enjoys.

Charles attended UWC-USA be-cause of the opportunity and adven-ture it offered. From UWC, he went to Pomona College and studied liberal arts. His first job was with General Electric. He eventually attended the Harvard’s Kennedy School, and dur-ing his summer breaks he interned for both McKinsey and Goldman Sachs. Charles left school early and started late so he could intern for eight weeks at each of these prestigious compa-nies, and he remembers taking his end-of-year exams on an airplane and faxing them back to his professors.

Charles is now CEO and Chairman of the Board at Global Flex Holdings as well as a Director of Chi Capital.

Charles will be on campus in April to participate in Alumni Week-end, an annual event which brings in-spiring alumni back to campus to in-teract with current students. He will be joined by diplomat Laura Taylor-Kale ’96, and conservationist Aurelio Ramos ’91.

While regular representation of mainland Chinese students remains a long-term ambition, they agreed that with China growing in economic importance, it will be essential to ensure this representation from China to anticipate and further support the ideals of peace, sustainability, and the bridging of cultures.

Photo courtesy of Timothy J. Dougherty


WHERE WE’RE FROM

Working with AFESIP Cambodia (Acting for Women in Distress-ing Situations) last summer was the most wonderful experience I have ever had.

People have equal rights and the same value but unfortunately some have been valued in terms of money. One of many problems we are facing in our society is human trafficking. In Cambodia, thousands of kids and women get into this problem every year. AFESIP is working very hard to rescue people who have been traded. Many of them are still young and have seriously suf-fered, which makes it very hard to go back and face the realities of our society.

I spent five days work-ing in the AFESIP center. We were not allowed to stay overnight because we were not familiar to the girls in the center. The first time I entered the center I felt we were feared, and I saw that there were some people who were trying to stay apart from our group. We tried to make ourselves familiar so that we could work with them well. We played some games, had a discussion about food, and created a music lesson. After a few days of effort I could feel the improvement by the way they interacted with us. Smiling

as they always do, they started to talk and were passionate in doing the activities.

As it went on I started to learn about a 14-year-old girl who was rescued a few months before we went to the center. I was showing the girl how to play guitar and having conversation with her. While we were talking, I asked her where she came from. She suddenly turned quiet, bending her face down. I felt bad because I knew that I had done something wrong. At

the end of the day, before we left the center, the girl came to me and gave me a piece of paper. She told me in the paper that she was also from the place where I came from. She has six younger brothers and sisters, but her mother died four years ago. She had been sold to be a prostitute

before she was rescued and sent to the AFESIP center. “I am so glad that you all came and taught us a lot of things which make me really happy,” she wrote, “and I really hope I will have another chance to learn how to play guitar.” I was so touched by the letter.

I used to think that I had very little opportunity in my tiny world, but after I met these people, I knew I had been wrong. After five days of working in the center, we learned a lot from each other. I left Siem Riep and returned home. I hoped that we made good memories for those girls.

OpportunityVichea Tan ’11Cambodia

I used to think that I had very little opportunity in my tiny world, but after I met these people, I knew I had been wrong.

Photo courtesy of Vichea Tan


WHERE WE’RE FROM

Sometimes we can be blinded by a strong and irrefutable sense of belonging to and possessing our culture. Not only do we tend to defend our culture, but we also love to think of it or look at it as the most perfect, the most authentic.

I believe there are times when we need to challenge our convictions about our own cul-tures, to accept and be open to the changes that might benefit our societies.

Where I come from, some women are still oppressed for the sake of culture and tradition. I often think, “I could be one of those young women.” I am ter-rified by that thought.

So much I would suf-fer, prisoner of a society with no mercy.

As a woman in that culture, I would never dare claim my rights in my society. By the age of sixteen, I would already have been married by force to a fifty-year-old stranger. I would have no say. As a woman, my opinions would be nei-ther heard nor valued, my choices would not be con-sidered, and no escape would be possible. My life would be reduced to bearing children with no strength, feeding a family with no joy, forever being the subaltern in a society governed by men’s power.

How excruciating can it be to undergo all this misery, having society trivialize it, with no ability to act upon it? The tradi-tions and the community make it impossible for women to break free from forced marriages. Mothers and sisters can’t even help; they do not get involved in these decisions because

they are women. Even women who have experi-enced similar situations often become so brain-washed that when their daughters and sisters suffer, and hope to be rescued, they lecture them about being better wives. How paradoxical!

For so long, we have paid respect to ancient traditions that have ignored the rights of youth and children and oppress women in the gross-est and most outrageous forms.

It’s now the time to abolish all restrictive and backward cultural practices that hinder women’s and youth’s free will.

Possession Aminata Deme ’11Senegal

Where I come from, some women are still oppressed for the sake of culture and tradition. I often think, “I could be one of those young women.” I am terrified by that thought.

Julian Rios ’12ColombiaInspired by “Theme for English B,” by Langston Hughes

FROM THE DEEP BOWELS OF THE ROCK,

From the sacred heart of the mountain,

And from the wild arms of the torrential river,

A voice like a sorrow is rising up to me.

With the blood of my people in his hands

And the burden of our eternal struggle in his shoulders

My father Wiracocha through the wind my name is calling.

My name and all the names,

My name and the names of my brothers who died,

My name that is the rose of my pacha.

Although, I was born in a Spanish cradle,

In my blood indigenous strength flows.

The breath of my grandparents my secret embraces

As one day from Mother Bachue a muisca people was born.



that we were breathing. I just looked at the school supply store. The doors were broken, and all the backpacks had turned black. I couldn’t believe that I was standing there yesterday trying them on. That night on the news, they announced that twenty-nine people had been injured

and two people had been killed.

A few days after that, school started. I went on the first day with my new backpack, expecting everything to be normal again, but it wasn’t. For

the first week we just talked about the terrorist attack and how it affected us. I was very excited to go to school, but after this attack I didn’t want to talk about it. I just wanted to forget it happened, but I couldn’t. I still can’t.

It was August 2003, the end of summer break. I actually wanted it to end. I was so excited to go and buy a new backpack, notebooks, color-ful pens, and all the other school supplies that I needed. My mom took me to the shopping center in our town. The minute I got to the store I started looking at all the backpacks, trying on each one of them. My mom told me to choose quickly, but I didn’t listen.

After two hours, we went back home, and I ran to my room and started to put my notebooks in my new bag. My mom said I needed to sleep because it was late. I went to bed, but I couldn’t sleep. I stayed up all night thinking about school and being able to see my friends.

The next morning I woke up and wanted to visit my friend. I called my mom at work to ask her. She sounded angry, and she told me not to leave the house. I asked her, “What’s wrong?” She didn’t an-swer but just kept saying, “Do not leave the house.”

I was mad because I couldn’t visit my friend, and I was embarrassed to call her and tell her that I couldn’t come. I finally dialed the number, and she answered so fast that I didn’t even have the time to speak; she was already asking, “Are you OK? Where are you?”

I said, “I’m in my house.” “Where are your parents?”“My mom is at work and I don’t know where my

dad is. Why?” “You didn’t hear it?” I still didn’t know what she was talking about,

but I understood that something bad had happened. She started to tell me that she heard a big “boom” an hour ago. She looked out her window, and she saw fire and a lot of smoke. There was a suicide-bomber attack in the shopping center in our town.

I couldn’t believe it. I switched on the TV and saw it all over the news. I called my dad to make sure that he was ok, and then I started to call all the peo-ple I knew. When I finished calling all my friends and family to make sure that they were ok, I started watching the news. There were interviews of people who were there when it happened, and I recognized all of them. In the background I could see the para-medics and dozens of people crying and bleeding. And I knew all of them; they were all from my town.

When my mom came back from work, we went to my aunt’s house. We drove past the shopping cen-ter, or rather what was left of it. The skies where still black from all the smoke, and the smell was still in the air. The smoky smell of fear blended in the air

BackpackNofar Hamrany ’11Israel


In the background I could see the paramedics and dozens of people crying and bleeding. And I knew all of them; they were all from my town.


WHERE WE’RE FROM

She said she had lost eight of her children, was beaten by her hus-band every day, and had suffered most of her life. When she told me these things, all I could utter was, “Everything is for a reason,” but deep inside I inquired, “Why? Why does she have to go through all this injustice?”

I call her Abeye; she is my grand-mother, my guardian, and my second mom.

“Don’t associate with boys; they are evil. Promise me to keep yourself away from them while you are in school.”

I guess she doesn’t want me to go through the suffering she was forced to bear.

“Getachew, Kebede, Belay, Ayele, Zenebe, Neway, Abebe, Zelalem. I got used to letting them go. Every time I got pregnant, I knew deep inside of me that I had to let go a person inside my womb. Your grandfather was no help; he said I had a curse

which was responsible for the death of all of his children, but I never got the courage to tell him that they were my children too and that I carried them inside my womb for nine months anticipating seeing them alive. Your grandfather even brought his child from another woman and told me to raise the baby. I raised the baby like it was mine, first because I didn’t have a choice, and second because I needed a baby that was mine.”

She took a deep breath as if to let all the lamentation out. Her eyes are small, so very small that it’s amazing that she can see. I deduced that the smallness of her eyes came from crying all the time, or from

the sunshine that was hidden from her while the whole world had the chance to see the sun.

“God is good; he gave me your mother. I didn’t even name her because I didn’t want to be cheated again. When your mother was three months old, I went to church and begged God to make her live, and it worked.”

She stopped to wipe away the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. She kissed the ground and said, “Thank you God for giving me an oppor-tunity to have grandchildren. I can die now.”

That was one of the saddest moments of my life, not only because I knew that my grandmother’s life was full of challenges but also because it took me forever to realize what she went through to protect me. Her gratitude struck me like a lightning bolt, because she is a woman who keeps thanking God though she has little reason to do so.

When I asked what the happiest moment in her life was, she looked me in the eyes and said, “I have had a lot of happy moments, dear; we are responsible for creating our happy moments. Though my life was hard, I have had magnificent moments that make my life worth living. The nine times I gave birth to my children and when I saw their closed eyes and heard their crying for the first time, I thanked God because he gave me the opportunity to see these wonderful beings. The day you were born was also one of the happiest moments of my life. Promise me that you will study hard, promise me not to let others control you and take your rights from you.”

I nodded, thinking “How does she do it? How can you be optimistic when life treats you so badly?” In the end I comprehended that my grand-mother is one of a kind to hold this quality.

My grandmother and all women in Ethiopia keep me going every day. When I feel depressed because I didn’t do well on a chemistry test or I didn’t do a good job on my class presentation, I immediately re-member that I am an Ethiopian woman. What Ethiopian women do best is beat all the odds in life. To fight for better treatment and to fight for a happier and more fulfilled life is the battle of Ethiopian women every day. Luckily I don’t fight the same fight; I fight easy things. Maybe I can fight the battle for the ones who are too tired to do so.

GrandmotherBereket Zekarias ’11Ethiopia

When I feel depressed because I didn’t do well on a chemistry test or I didn’t do a good job on my class presentation, I immediately remember that I am an Ethiopian woman. What Ethiopian women do best is beat all the odds in life. To fight for better treatment and to fight for a happier and more fulfilled life is the battle of Ethiopian women every day.



I grew up in a very strict Christian family. I was expected to do ex-actly as I was instructed without questioning. Failure to comply with these principles resulted in severe punishment from my parents. It is for this reason that I developed strong abidance to certain precepts in life. In addition, I always wanted to lead most of the activities I was in-volved in because I could not afford to see something done differently.

Despite my strong attachment to the teachings of my parents, at one point I had to deviate from the set of formula and actually do what I personally thought was right. In my third year in a seminary, back home in Tanzania, I was elected the General Secretary of the Students’ Council. My job was to organize and coordinate different activities on campus. In one particular case, my classmates agreed not to do a job they were as-signed. Considering the essential nature of the job, I informed the school administration about the situation, asking for assistance to make them do it. My action offended my classmates, and it was taken as an act of betrayal. Although I tried to explain myself, they ignored me and decided to teach me a lesson.

My classmates excluded me from all class matters, and nobody was allowed to talk to me. Offensive comments against me were spread all over campus. I tried to ignore them, but the situ-ation got worse. Some of them began to insult me verbally, and my personal belongings were vandalized.

As the General Secretary, I could report them to the seminary’s administration. According to principles I grew up with, this is what was right to do. Nevertheless, this option would unneces-sarily harm the student community because it would result in the expulsion of many of the students–even innocent ones. I believed that as a leader my primary goal was to assure a fruit-ful and enjoyable school experience for everyone; therefore, reporting them was not an option. I understood that anger was in control of my class-mates. It was difficult for them to accept that I could “betray” my class and get away with it.

During this time, the whole student com-munity was watching me, waiting to see how I was going to handle the situation. I was con-fused. I did not like all the harassment I was subjected to, but all the same, I was not ready to lose members of our community. Luckily, an alumnus visited the seminary, and I did not hesitate to share my problems. He promised me that he would help. He talked to my classmates

in a meeting that he did not let me attend, and successfully convinced them to retreat from their mission.

I have become more flexible. I now know that there is always an-other way to do something. I learned about my weaknesses, and I have been made stronger. I appreciate the adventures that life has to give because they broaden my perception and make me a better person. I believe that what I learn from my experiences now are the tools for overcoming greater challenges in the future.

I have become more flexible. I now know that there is always another way to do something. I learned about my weaknesses, and I have been made stronger.

A LessonInnocent Basso ’11Tanzania



WHERE WE’RE FROM

Storms and earthquakes, special dishes and exotic flavors, the warmth of the sand and the cruel coldness of the hard rocks. Those were some of the images that vibrated in every surface of the dining room every night as my parents told me countless stories about things I never heard before. These and more of their words kept resonating in my head while I slowly returned to reality. I found myself star-ing at a blank piece of paper in front of me, a pen in my hand.

These stories came to life for me in a way that was as real as the words I am writing. I write to live the unthinkable, to teleport myself to the endless scenarios the mind creates. I write because it keeps me alive, makes me feel that the world can be sketched beyond what can be seen with a simple glance.

Ideas turned into motion, motion turned into ink, ink into capricious swirls that sank in the fibers of a corroded paper. The idea became the word, the word became the story. All those stories that were bound to be told resonated as echoes in my head; as the words flowed slowly throughout the years, the pile of paper next to my bed kept growing. I soon realized that the

stories were for me more than a hobby; they were a lifestyle. I turned myself into a character and lived my life as a story that I tried to tell myself every day.

Storytelling was the way I found myself living in the 1960s in that terrible storm that my father used to recall with angst, and the way I felt inside a building in inner Mexico

City after the 1985 earthquake in Sep-tember, when my mother was help-ing to coordinate phone calls for the only telephones that were available near the disaster zone. It is amusing

to look back on those stories about elves that my father used to tell me, remembering how they became for me as tangible as any other thing in this world. I soon realized that I wrote because I wanted the world to make sense, be-cause words were the only way I could make the world real.

And I am still sitting in front of a blank pa-per while thinking of all the stories that could possibly be written. Every bit I write makes me feel that the world makes more sense to me. Will it ever be completely clear? I hope not. I want to keep trying to figure it out.

Writing the WorldOmar Yaxmehen Bello Chavolla ’11Mexico

Storytelling was the way I found myself living in the 1960s in that terrible storm that my father used to recall with angst…

Rodrigo Erazo ’12

Ecuador

Inspired by “Theme for English B,” by Langston Hughes

“It’s going to be better.”

I guess not…

As I wake up at 4 am in “my” bed that I share with my 8 siblings

As I take a shower with cold water, not really in a shower, but with a bowl from the kitchen

As I put on the same clothes that I wear every day

As I go to the kitchen just to realize there’s nothing to eat…

I walk out of there to find a job, to bring something to eat to my home

At least a couple of dollars in my pocket to buy some bread for my family

nothing…

Failure followed by failure… I’m tired of trying the same everyday

I’m tired of watching my brothers going to bed with hunger

I’m tired of watching my mother dealing with my drunken father

I’m tired of being useless…

My father is no longer

At least my mother will wake up without bruises on her face

And now off to the city, to find a better life

I’ve been crying since my father died; even though he beat my mother

I loved him…

I’m reading what I wrote

And I have a simple question:

Is it going to be better?

q Omar with co-year Ivana Marincic.



I was born at the end of Guatemala’s civil war. My family suffered the cruelties of war for a long time. I was lucky to be just six-years-old when the Civil War ended.

After a war, a country is never the same. Many things change. The people’s minds are full of fear and pain. The wounds of my nation are just starting to heal.

My story is about living in Guatemala. Guatemala is a third-world country with one of the highest indexes of violence in the world.

I remember the first time I was ever robbed. I was 14 years old. It was on a Sat-urday morning, and I was walking from my mom’s coffee shop toward my best friend’s house. Like every Saturday morn-ing, the streets were crowded with people. I was passing though a parking lot when a little boy around 10 years old came to me and asked for money. That day I was car-rying a lot of money with me, but I didn’t give any to him. Sud-denly he put his hand on his pocket at the same time he told me it was not a question. I was really lucky that the boy was afraid of me that time.

Drug Trafficking is one of the major prob-lems in Guatemala. I remember traveling with my mother and sister to a little village where my mom had a small business. It was noon, and we were going through a dirt track off the principal avenue. Suddenly one guy came out from a house just to the right

of us. To our left there was a little workshop, and two guys were stand-ing by a car. In just a second, the three of them pulled their guns out, and, like in the movies, my mom turned almost immediately around. She was nervous and really afraid. We left as quickly as possible. We heard the shots in the distance.

They tell me the war is over. I don’t believe them. Each day people get massacred by violence. People live with fear. You turn, and some-thing is happening. There is no way to escape. I live with fear.

They tell me the war is over. I don’t believe them. Each day people get massacred by violence. People live with fear. You turn, and something is happening. There is no way to escape. I live with fear.

The Wounds of WarKevin Mazariegos Moralles ’11Guatemala

q Chichicastenago, Guatemala, 1992. During the Guatemalan civil war, indigenous women sought out American clothing to avoid being identified and targeted.

Photo credit: Elizabeth Withnall


WHO WE ARE BECOMING

One of the first things Markus Stockhausen said to my friends and me during our preparation to perform with him in concert was about expanding our window of musical appreciation. Markus is a renowned German musician with abilities in composing, directing, improvising, and performing trumpet solos. He initially came to UWC-USA with the purpose of visiting his son Arjan, but in staying here for a week as an artist-in-residence, he profoundly changed many people in the school.

Our music teacher Ron Maltais arranged a concert and practiced with all students interested in learning intuitive music with Markus. Intuitive music, as Markus likes to call it, is basically music improvi-sation—but with a special approach. I practiced for the concert with ten friends, plus Ron. The time we spent with Markus learning how to intuit music was both amazing and hard. In order to do a good job, there was a high amount of concentration, energy, and creativity need-ed. “Listen to the others all the time” and “Music is a conversation, and you should only talk when you have something to say” were some of the phrases Markus repeated often. One of the hardest parts for me was to start playing in an atonal way (not in any particular key). I think that we all felt that something wasn’t right the first time we did it.

The week went fast. We were practicing a lot, developing new skills, and suddenly it was the concert day. The anxiety rose every second, but

Markus kept himself very calm and confident. The whole point of intui-tive music is to play what we feel in the moment and to make a musi-cal conversation out of it. There were no scores, just instruments and enthusiasm. Before going on stage, we all meditated in a circle and tried to connect. It worked.

The audience was waiting. We sat and started playing, trying to feel the music from inside. For two periods of 15 minutes each we played. The ending of the second period was very special because we were actu-ally feeling each other’s music.

At the end of our last improvisation, people started to clap in-tensely as we left the stage, and we experienced an adrenaline rush. It was hard to believe that we had reached that special state

of symbiosis. Afterwards, Markus played with Kevin Zoernig, a jazz pianist, and Ralph Marquez, a drum-mer. The trio played some of Markus’s compositions. It was stunning. The last two pieces were played with Amir Shemesh ’11, Israel, who also added his great tal-ent to the trio with a saxo-phone performance.

Then the time was over. We all said goodbye to Markus. I felt proud of what we accomplished, but overall I felt immensely grateful for the experience of working with Markus, one of the best musicians I have ever met. I wouldn’t have had this op-portunity anywhere else, and that week changed not only my musical perception, but everyone who was involved in this experience. We will never forget the time we shared with Markus Stock-hausen and with each other.

Music is a ConversationPedro Monque ’12Venezuela

Markus Stockhausen studied initially at the Cologne Musikhochschule and is as much at home in jazz as in contemporary and classical music. For about 25 years, Markus collaborated closely with his father, the composer Karlheinz Stockhausen. Markus’s son, Arjan, is a second-year student at UWC-USA.


q Markus Stockhausen performing with UWC-USA students.


Grit burns my eyes and dust coats my mouth. I am tired—no, I am exhausted. I am exhausted beyond any point I have ever reached in my eighteen years on this planet. I have spent the last fifteen hours on a bus, and all I want is sleep.

In the last five days, I have seen both the best and the worst of hu-manity. I have seen small children running in the streets toward homes made of aluminum. I have seen a hand-ful of men wander through the desert picking up the garbage left by desper-ate men and women in a race to find a means of survival. I have seen people meant to represent justice insult these same men and women. I have spent the last five days in Agua Prieta, So-nora, Mexico.

I am on a bus with fourteen other people. Together, we have witnessed so much. I feel close to these students, though I hardly knew any of them a week ago. We represent twelve differ-ent countries across five continents. Each one of us is an individual—com-pletely unique and different from every other. And yet, here we sit, waiting in-tently for the same thing: to round one more bend and see our home.

The bus is somehow cold and stuffy at the same time. We’ve all been breath-ing each other’s air and smelling each other’s sweat for far too long. I, per-sonally, have had a headache since we passed through Hatch, New Mexico—about five hours ago. My seat-mate has just woken up from his fourth nap of the day. His eyes are red from the strain of sleeping on a bus, and he’s continu-ally rolling his shoulders to relieve the I-sat-in-a-strange-position-for-three-hours neck cramp.

It is pitch dark outside, and as we round that final bend, Montezuma

Castle looms overhead, glowing in the night. Suddenly, we are all cheering. It has only been five days, and yet it has been a lifetime. We’ve been so far away from this place, and we’ve seen things I don’t think any of us were ready to see. We’ve only lived at UWC-USA for

two months but it is home now. UWC—it’s a place where two hundred students from every background imaginable have come together and formed something incredible.

No matter where I come from, and no matter where I go from now on, I will always remember this moment. I will remember the luminous windows of the castle, the cheers of my peers, and the rumble of the bus as it makes its way up the hill. I know that I am a part of something bigger than myself here. No matter how much I struggle at UWC, I am surrounded by beautiful individuals, each with

the potential to change the world. I will always remember this sensa-tion, this feeling of coming home.

Coming HomeCassandra Doremus ’11USA-Nebraska

It is pitch dark outside, and as we round that final bend, Montezuma Castle looms overhead, glowing in the night. Suddenly, we are all cheering. It has only been five days, and yet it has been a lifetime.

Photo credit: Kate Russell


LIVING UWC AFTER UWC

When trying to describe my life after UWC, I immediately realize that there is definitely a before and an after. Before I was accepted to UWC, I always thought I would become a suc-cessful lawyer, or perhaps a doctor. But then my life was turned upside down. UWC chal-lenged everything I believed in, and questioned all the choices I had made in my life, and the choices I thought about making.

I made a choice not very common among UWCers. While all my UWC friends were ap-plying for colleges, taking SATs, and writing admissions essays, I was booking my ticket home. At home, I enrolled in a Colombian uni-versity and started my studies in law school. But something just didn’t fit. I was away from my UWC community and felt as if I were liv-ing someone else’s life.

I changed my career path and got my bach-elors degree in Political Science at Universidad de los Andes. Still, I found very few challenges in that career, and the classes were not the same as the ones I had received at UWC. There was a void in my life which no class was able to fill. Upon graduation I thought I was headed for an NGO or an International Organization, so I started to seek my path there. I had remained very involved with UWC by working as Vice Chair for my national committee, but in living

away from the UWC environment it was hard to pinpoint what I missed about that part of my life. I had to return to my UWC experience to find guidance.

I remembered my Satur-day afternoons at the Santa Fe’s Children Museum, tu-toring some of the small chil-dren on campus, and helping

my classmates with French, but most of all I re-membered the huge respect and love I had for my teachers at UWC. Hence, I decided to pursue a path in education, thinking that perhaps I could make students feel the way my teachers made me feel at UWC.

I began teaching as an intern at Colegio Santa María in Bogo-tá—the school I went to before UWC. I taught Social Studies to middle-school girls, and in two days I realized that this was what I wanted to

do with my life. Children and teenagers need people who will guide them and who want to teach and bring out the best in them in the classroom en-vironment. I fell in love with being in the classroom and having 30 girls in front of me, with reading their exam responses, and having them enjoy history and question their reality.

I am now getting my masters in education and will hopefully continue to teach at my school. Maybe I will even work at a UWC at some point. But for now, I just want to bring to my classroom the cultural understanding and

When trying to describe my life after UWC, I immediately realize that there is definitely a before and an after. Before I was accepted to UWC, I always thought I would become a successful lawyer, or perhaps a doctor. But then my life was turned upside down. UWC challenged everything I believed in, and questioned all the choices I had made in my life, and the choices I thought about making.

Photo courtesy of Natalia Restrepo

p Natalia Bernal Restrepo

awareness that I got in the classes in New Mexico: the excellent writing skills provided by English teacher Anne Farrell, the fun I

had with French teacher Julie Ham, the great discussions with Spanish teacher Tom Cur-tis, the patience and understanding taught by Math teacher Shirleen Lanham, the learning by doing with Biology teacher Fernando Me-jia, and most of all, the love and caring for all my students that I learned from Economics teacher Ravi Parashar.

q Gert Danielsen

Photo courtesy of Gert Danielsen

Returning Home to Find My Path in EducationNatalia Bernal Restrepo ’05Colombia


Ali Jamoos ‘12PalestineInspired by “Theme for English B,” Langston Hughes

I’m seventeen.

Too young, some might say,

But the truth: what I have seen

Is more than most people have seen in a life time.

What kind of human are you?

You may ask.

To tell the truth, nothing but the truth,

I’m like any other Palestinian.

We’re old men since the minute we are born.

We have suffered, and gone through catastrophes

Normal people won’t even dare to dream of.

Like what? You may wonder.

A life of a thirteen-year-old child in my country shall be the answer.

Getting arrested when you are only 13,

Thrown in a small dark cell for 5 days.

For what?

For throwing a stone at the occupant who violated the rights of his city,

He was prohibited to see sun light for three months,

To play with his friends, whom he misses, but nothing can be done.

And now, do you still think that I’m too young?

If you do,

How about the little kid who has been through all that?

What do you have to say to him?

Tell me, because I can’t think of anything fair to say to him.

Tell me, because I don’t know.

When I left UWC-USA, I wanted to work for the UN. Having arrived in New Mexico with a plan to study medicine, the micro-world unfolding in Montezuma changed all that. Naively, I asked my adviser Anne Far-rell to write me a reference for a job with the UN. Anne knew this would be impossible for an 18-year-old with no university studies, but she also knew the importance of encourage-ment. So she wrote the ref-erence, saying that I “would be an asset to the UN, if not now, then immediately after university.” Anne believed in me. I have now been with the UN for four years, and I am convinced it wouldn’t have happened without UWC.

My career change from medicine to inter-national relations is merely symbolic of what UWC did for me. UWC was all about find-ing myself, finding an environment which was inductive to a stronger identity. If you have been in a room of red and orange for a lifetime, how do you know that your passion really is blue, green, or yellow—colors you’ve never seen or you’ve been told do not exist?

UWC does that to us—it exposes us to the colors out there, and we learn which ones we en-joy and which ones we don’t, which col-ors we feel are “us” and which ones are definitely not. I became a Latin America fan and a Spanish-speaker, a conflict resolu-tion enthusiast, an environmentalist, a vegetarian, an openly gay man, a volunteer, and a rel-ativist, embracing the diversity of our

amazing world and respecting everything I didn’t like. In a room full of colors, it is easier to be different. No one really notices much: you become “normal,” common.

Graduating in 1996, smitten by Aleyda McKiernan’s Spanish classes, the merengue show we did on Latin American and Caribbe-an Cultural Day, and my new Latino friends, I went home and literally looked up “Latin

America” in the pink pages of the phone book. A couple of months later I found myself in the Guatemalan forests working with the Norwe-gian NGO “Latin America Groups.” I studied International Relations and Spanish and vol-unteered in a conflict management program in Colombia. I taught Latin American dance and engaged in student councils and NGOs which promoted peace, social justice, human rights, and environmental consciousness. I worked with the Norwegian Peace Corps in South Africa, did my MA in International Relations and Conflict Resolution through a Rotary World Peace Fellowship in Buenos Aires, and conducted Empathy and Nonvio-lent Communication workshops. In 2006 I worked on the Norwegian Millennium De-velopment Goals Campaign before—I guess I can say finally—I started working with the UN in South Africa, 10 years after Anne had written me that reference.

As we speak, I am starting a new job with the UN in Yemen, where I will be working on democratic governance, human rights and gender equality. Studying Arabic and ex-tremely sensitive to the cultural shifts I will be experiencing there, I am calm and feel prepared. UWC-USA helped me adapt to, re-spect, learn from, and enjoy our diverse and fascinating world. I still carry many Norwe-gian colors—ethnically, socially, culturally, and politically. But like all of you, I am now so much more. UWC helped me bring out the true colors of my life.

I have now been with the UN for four years, and I am convinced it wouldn’t have happened without UWC.

q Gert Danielsen

True ColorsGert Danielsen ’96Norway



I was born one. Folks think clowns are for kids, but I swear, adults need them a lot

more. All my heroes and role models have been murdered or assassi-nated: Jesus, Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., Kennedy, and Lincoln. They stood up for the kind of change I want to achieve, and they died for it. I don’t particularly want to die yet. I have developed a way of working that’s less confrontational. I tickle and hint instead of blaring the truth out loud.

In my youth, I was very straight-laced and proper. I always wanted things to work properly, and I hated lackluster performance. I was also not very tolerant of failure; it incited and challenged me to do better. Most-ly, I minded my own business. But there came times when I couldn’t tolerate some situations, and I took action.

Later, I hated the way people divided the world into developed and developing countries. Aren’t we all developing? As a medical student in Germany, I joined the student governments in Göttingen and Lübeck and set up seminars and workshops about medicine in the developing world. To me it meant the whole world, although other people might have interpreted the series differently. I also joined World University Service after participating in a training session and was chosen as a student board member.

I did my doctoral thesis in Zurich on a nationwide health campaign that was a bit of a joke in the Swiss scientific community. But it fulfilled its purpose, and I learned about prevention and quality control. I moved on and set up a quality circle at a day clinic for children. I got a commen-dation and a raise for it. However, along with getting my doctor’s title, these were rare moments of professional pride as a doctor.

As a physician, I kept to the principle of recording patient histories and chief complaints verbatim. They tell us to do that in med school. But people say funny things, and doctors often paraphrase patient histories to make them fit their diagnostic ruminatings and preconceptions. One woman, a psychiatric patient with diabetic complications, kept insisting her chief complaint was “the heat inside.” I had no clue what she meant. But I wrote it down. My consultant later said I couldn’t write that because who knew what “the heat inside” was? There was no such medical term. Which was my point exactly; it was the woman’s complaint. If we don’t accept that she knows her main complaint, who does? He thought I should have pri-

oritised the referring physician’s problem with a diabetic control/manage-ment plan. I thought to myself, “It’s no wonder people don’t get healthy when we don’t even pay attention to what’s important to them.” The point was lost on him, but it remains forever etched in the woman’s docket. My tribute of respect to her. And to the truth of medical mysteries unsolved.

I came to see myself more as a therapist than a doctor. The latter is a position of exaltation, the former one of service. A therapist is a servant. A doctor prescribes; a therapist accompanies, supports. I loved psycho-therapy training and probably got more out of it than my clients did.

I went on a Patch Adams healing tour of Russia, visiting prisons. The prison wardens got upset because they were afraid of losing control of their juvenile detainees as a result of the clowning. I defused the tension at one prison by handing the head lady a bar of melting Jamaican chocolate with a comment in bad Russian and an apologetic tone. It saved the moment.

My clown has also manifested itself through political power. Return-ing to Jamaica in 2007, over twenty years after UWC, I was appalled by the state of the nation. With the support of a group of largely UWC friends, I began a campaign to depose the government which had been in power too long. But the government was only symptomatic; I also did a lot of grassroots work to show people options and alternatives, working with environmental groups and the organic movement, as well as doing small-time clowning work.

Then I threw a snowball, which had an avalanche effect. My snowball was suggesting people take the government to court over an environmen-

How I Became A ClownMarie Dixon Frisch ’84, JamaicaEdited by Emily Withnall, Communications Coordinator

Marie Dixon Frisch attended Yale, then studied medicine in Göttingen and Lübeck, Germany, completing her doctorate at the University of Zürich in 1998. She retired from medicine in 2003 and later became a clown, writer, and English teacher. She now lives in Norway and plans to work as a communal clown in nursing homes, social and medical institutions, and prisons.

p On Patch Adams’ Healing Tour of Russia 2003 where we almost got banned for inciting JOY amongst the inmates and disturbance amongst the guards. A mushy bar of p Jamaican chocolate softened the fronts.


tal issue. It was done by others and they won the case—the Pear Tree Bottom Case. I doubt anyone besides a few select friends even realized I threw the snow ball. It was one of those clown actions you do and tiptoe away before the fall-out comes, giggling guiltily but gleefully all the way.

In connection with the same political issues, I upstaged the reigning Prime Minister of Jamaica in her own court. I had asked for permission to stage a demonstration against the Pear Tree Bottom development, and permission was first delayed and then denied. But I had prepared all the protest materials, including some self-composed protest songs. Shortly after, I was asked to attend a meeting set up by PM Portia Simpson Miller for political and NGO activists from the region. The PM allowed herself to be an unthinkable 90 minutes late for the meeting; two or three hundred delegates who had travelled for hours to get there were waiting, and while we waited, I asked permission to lead the group in song. After ascertain-ing my identity (i.e., nobody), they shrugged their shoulders and agreed.

I began with “We Shall Overcome.” They sang that readily enough. Then I delivered my protest songs, getting them to join in the choruses. The conference room rocked. And the tactic wasn’t lost on them. By the time the PM came, the hall was abuzz. Many of her supporters signed the petition I had taken along to prohibit the government’s planned exploita-tion of the Cockpit Country, the next endangered area on our list.

After 9/11, my life fell apart. My first husband and I separated that week. I started to re-examine my life, exploring possibilities. I was work-ing in child and adolescent psychiatry in Zurich at the time. I was re-ally good at play therapy and resource activation, client rapport. I took a therapeutic magic course and, while there, made everyone laugh. In that moment I remembered my clown. I realized that the clown was my core, and the doctor and therapist were adjunct.

I had always wanted to be a good doctor. I had loved our family doctor and wanted to emulate him. But the clown was never something I had to become. I was a clown. I am a clown.

I moved out of hospitals and clinics and into the world because that’s where sickness begins and can be prevented. I don’t believe we’ve under-stood how life and health really work. I believe our medicine is clumsy at best. Healing comes from within, and much of what we do prolongs suffering instead of curing it. It became increasingly difficult to practice

medicine as prescribed by current standards, and giving it up was the best decision I’ve made. I had been feeling the conflict of interest acutely: being a doctor, I was dependent on other people’s suffering for my liveli-hood. As a clown, I am independent. I also am able to do low-level inter-ventions that people don’t even recognize as therapeutic.

My current job working as an English trainer for unemployed Ger-mans manifested itself miraculously because I followed my heart and nose and feet. I was handed the job on a platter and grabbed it. I do mostly self-worth building, group and team building, fostering creativity and limitless thinking and encouraging participants to create a better future. They think I’m teaching them English. I make them do a lot, stretch them to capacity and beyond, but they don’t notice. They think it’s all just fun and games.

I work as an undercover clown in different capacities and rarely do open clown gigs at the moment. An undercover clown uses the power of the moment; right action, pure intention and awareness are some of the guiding principles I strive for. So I can’t foretell what I will do until I see what needs to be done.

My job is to scatter seeds and to move on, let the wind do with them as it will. I am good at validating others, clients, colleagues, and superiors alike; it makes no difference to me. Strangers, too: a smile, a shared mo-ment of pleasure or suffering.

Looking back, we sometimes catch a glimpse of the impact of what we have done. But I never have the feeling I can see the whole picture. It’s not my job to hang on. I always have to let go, let go joyfully and gratefully so things can take their course.

Phot

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p On Patch Adams’ Healing Tour of Russia 2003 where we almost got banned for inciting JOY amongst the inmates and disturbance amongst the guards. A mushy bar of p Jamaican chocolate softened the fronts.

p Meddling with a motor. A bit like medicine. p Clowning around.


Abuubakar Ally ’12TanzaniaInspired by “Theme for English B,” by Langston Hughes

The instructor said

Go home and write

A page tonight

And let that page come out of you—

Then it will be true.

I doubt if it’s that simple.

I am seventeen, young, but old, born in Migo-Dar.

I grew up there, went to school at Kino

One hour drive from there. Then here

To this college, amidst the canyons of Montezuma.

Twenty-two hour flight.

I am the oldest student in my class.

The steps near the science building lead up to the castle

Where I take the elevator, up to my room, sit down and write this page:

It’s difficult to know what’s true for you or me

At seventeen, my age. But I think I am what I believe, feel and consider,

My life, I hear you, hear me, we two, talk on this page.

I like to eat well, sleep well, hang out with friends, but how?

I like to enjoy my life, with my mom, dad, siblings,

But where are they?

continued on page 17...

Alumni Profiles

Gio Bacareza ’89, Philippines, completed two engineering majors in the Philippines and went on to spend two years in Spain working for Telefonica. An inspirational letter from a high school teacher prompted Gio to return home to help with Philippine technology devel-opment. Gio spent three years with Microsoft, moving on to support start-ups by working for

a local venture capitalist where he handled the se-lection of invest-ments in locally developed tech-nology. In 2006, Gio brought in-novations from Chikka.com, one of his investee companies, to

international markets in the US, Europe, and Latin America. In 2009, he pitched and sold the company to Smart Communications, the largest mobile operator in the Philippines. Gio now runs Smart’s Internet business. He says, “My vision is to provide internet for everyone in the country. I’ve always believed that tech-nology is the great equalizer. It promotes op-portunity and equal access to information and education. One of the projects I’m very excited about right now is providing internet to those who cannot afford basic telephones.”

Gio also organizes rescue and relief ef-forts such as those needed during the Ketsana Typhoon flood in Sept 2009. He also helped organize the citizen election monitoring group during the Philippine general elections in 2010. Of his experience at UWC-USA, Gio says “The fortunate chance gave me a sense of responsibility to be an instrument for change from which I have chosen my path and pur-pose in life.”

Aurelio Ramos ’91, Colombia, earned a bachelor’s degree in Economics from Colombia’s Univer-sidad de los Andes and a master’s degree in En-vironmental Economics and Natural Resources from the University of Maryland and the Uni-versidad de los Andes. He has worked with the Andean Development Bank, the Biotrade Pro-gram of the United Nations Conference of Trade and Commerce, and the Humboldt Biological

Research Institute. Aurelio began working with the Nature Conservancy in 2003 as Director of the Northern Tropical Andes Conservation Pro-gram, where he led his team to pioneer conser-vation strategies through the use of innovative, incentive-based conservation financing across the Andean landscapes of Colombia, Ecuador, Peru and Venezuela. He currently serves as the Director of Conservation Programs for Latin America, overseeing the Nature Conservancy´s conservation investments and external affairs work throughout Latin America.

Aurelio says, “UWC-USA influenced me deeply. Think big: what can we do to change the problems our world has? Be pragmatic: we need to think globally and locally. Our com-munity work at UWC-USA is a good example that allowed us to connect with the necessities of our local community, and, through discus-sions, understand what needed to happen at a macro level. Peace: peace cannot be reached if we do not balance everyone´s needs and ex-pectations. Having lived in a country like Co-lombia, with its decades of violence, I know we need to find projects and solutions that help the most. Without satisfying basic needs, true peace will not come. International understand-ing is a principle for peace.”

After completing his education, Nobuki Asahina ’93, Japan, joined Sony Electronics and worked in an overseas position based in Singa-pore. He soon realized that thanks to his UWC experience, he found it easy to adapt himself

to local business clients, employ-ees, and friends. His job covered both Vietnam and Ukraine, and No-buki noticed that his comfort with other cultures significantly en-hanced his busi-ness career. Now

based in Miami, Florida, Nobuki looks after his company’s Latin American operation.

Nobuki recalls, “When I look back my time at UWC, I recall that it was a valuable experi-ence, but at the same time, a struggle to adapt myself to the ‘global society’ of UWC. I was

16 U W C - U S A / W W W . U W C - U S A . O R G



not so confident or even sometimes confused in front of all the different behaviors, cultures, races, and people around me. However, now I can proudly say that it was an inevitable step for me to enter the world, to change myself from a domestic Japanese fielder to a global player…UWC opened the door to the world for me.”

Amie Ferris-Rotman ’98, USA, graduated with a BA and an MA in Russian Studies and Litera-ture at University College London. She went on to become a journalist and now works as a foreign corre-spondent cover-ing political news at Reuters in Moscow, focusing on human rights and the Islamist insurgency in the North Caucasus. Amie says that “there is nothing more rewarding and adrenaline-filled than getting a front-row seat at world events as they unfold.” Her work engages her all over Russia and the former So-viet Union, and she regularly ventures into the violence-wracked Muslim North Cauca-sus, where her job is to tell the world first-hand about the plight of the people there. She reports that the tiny backwater is full of cul-tural gems and regularly makes world news for its violence, and Amie hopes that the news helps people everywhere realize how impor-tant it is to combat racism, extremism, and poverty. Amie says, “Being at UWC—two of the most treasured years of my life—made me think hard about how other people across our globe live, and gave me the drive to tell others about it in an objective way. That is why I became a journalist.”

Ryan Richards ’02, USA, majored in Interna-tional Development and minored in Span-ish and World Religions at Juniata College. He spent three years living in Latin America working as the Director of External Relations for the Asturias Academy, a human rights school in Guatemala, where he oversaw the creation of the organization’s fundraising and volunteer programs, as well as serving on

the Board of Directors of Reading Village, a US nonprofit creating a culture of reading in Guatemala. Ryan went on to receive his MPA in Nonprofit Management from New York University’s Wagner School of Public Service. Ryan currently serves as the Executive Direc-tor of Nourish International, a network of 25 college chapters engaging US students in supporting locally-grown development initia-tives abroad.

A believer in the transformative power of cross-cultural exchange, Ryan seeks to sup-port the next generation of change-makers in acquiring the tools they need to solve so-ciety’s most intractable problems. Ryan says, “Like so many of my peers, the UWC-USA experience catalyzed me into a global citizen. It brought home for me, on a visceral level, the equal value of all people, and that aware-ness—of equal human dignity and dis-equal access to basic needs—is one of the key moti-vators behind my work.”

James Byrne ‘03, USA, attended the Uni-versity of Texas at Austin and graduated with a BS in Biomedical Engineering. He is currently enrolled in a joint MD/PhD program at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. As a graduate student, he is working with an academic and industrial team on developing medical devices for the treatment of pancreatic cancer. James reports, “Pancreatic cancer is one of the most lethal cancers, with a five-year survival of less than five percent of the patients diagnosed. Better therapies are needed to im-prove the management of this disease, and we hope to create technologies that shift the para-digm in the treatment of pancreatic cancer.”

Of his experience at UWC-USA, James says it “made me aware of the grand challenges that we face as a world, including disparities in health care, energy, clean water, among many others. My interests are in biology and medi-cine, and it was my experience at UWC that guided me to apply my interests to tackle the disparities in health care through low-cost, ef-fective strategies for the treatment of disease.”

If you would like to be featured in an up-coming Kaleidoscope issue, or if you’d like to nominate another graduate, please email [email protected].


continued from page 16...

I hear my friends,

I hear them saying, “My mom is annoying,”

“I love my dad,” “Your brother loves you.”

But what’s Dad, Mom, and Brother to me? A puzzle.

As I came out of her womb, crying, off she went,

To her heavenly father. When I grew up, I heard the world saying,

“He passed away before the birth of his first born.”

Oh! Me.

I hear my age mates,

I hear them saying, “Enjoy your life, for you are a teenager.”

“Too young to work,” they say.

But I hear my life,

I hear it saying, “Work hard, Jamal, for you are old.”

“A father of two children,” my life adds.

“What? A father? Two children?” I ask.

“Yes,” my life roars, “One older than your mom, one younger than you.”

Oh! My grandma, my niece.

Through ups and downs, we went.

Your inspirational smiles

Strengthened me.

Harder and harder I worked, in OUR SERVICE.

For it’s you, only you, the beauty of my life.

I hope that you love me, as much as I do you.


V O l U M E 4 1

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Photo credit: Jake Rutherford

UWC makes education a

force to unite people, nations,

and cultures for peace and a

sustainable future.

8 trees preserved for the future

236 lbs solid waste not generated

807 lbs of greenhouse gases prevented

3,885 gallons water saved

2,500,000 BTUs energy not consumed

The following resources were saved by

using 1312 pounds of Reincarnation Matte

(FSC), made with an average of 100%

recycled fiber and an average of 60% post-

consumer waste, processed chlorine free,

designated Ancient Forest Friendly™ and

manufactured with electricity that is offset

with Green-e® certified renewable energy

certificates

E N V I R O N M E N TA L B E N E F I T SREUNION 2011July 29 - August 3

Experience the nostalgia of Montezuma Castle alongside your classmates. Fuse old memories with new and rekindle your bond with the UWC spirit!

This year we will be celebrating the classes of 1986, 1991, 1996, 2001 and 2006, but all class years are welcome to attend.

Please go to www.uwc-usa.org/reunioninfo for details and registration.

of using post-consumer waste fiber vs. virgin fiber

Calculations based on research by Environmental Defense and other members of the Paper Task Force.

Kaleidoscope, Volume 41

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Transcript of Kaleidoscope, Volume 41