The ferry moves quietly through the fjord, the water dark and glassy beneath steep rock walls. Waterfalls cut silver lines down the cliffs, dropping hundreds of feet straight into the sea.

For students in the Center for Global Education and Experience (CGEE), this isn’t a postcard moment or a pause between lessons. It is the lesson.

Whether the view is in Norway, Guatemala, or South Africa, this is what learning looks like through CGEE: Students stand inside the geography, systems, histories, and questions that shape a place, rather than studying them from a distance.

For more than 45 years, CGEE has built semester-long, customized short-term, and summer programs supported by its long-standing study centers across Africa, Latin America, and Europe—including a new program in Norway and recently expanded offerings in Northern Ireland and Italy. Rooted in community-based learning, long-term relationships, and intentional reflection, CGEE’s model feels especially resonant, both globally and here in Minnesota.

“[CGEE] offers the opportunity to develop relationships with people across lines of difference, to truly engage,” says Ann Lutterman-Aguilar, who has worked with CGEE since the early 1990s and now leads its longest-standing program in Cuernavaca, Mexico, which started in 1979 and focuses on themes of religion and social change, migration and human rights, among others. “Not to just be a tourist somewhere, read about something in a book, but to hear people’s stories, get to know those people, and put human faces and voices to social issues.”

Learning through presence

CGEE programs are designed differently than many traditional study abroad experiences, with the program built on intercultural, experiential, holistic, analytical, and transformative pillars. Students move through their semesters as cohorts, take integrated courses, and live with host families. And they spend significant time outside the classroom, listening, observing, asking questions, and reflecting together.

“We are deeply in relationship with the places we serve,” says John Schwehn, one of ���ܲ������ܰ���’s campus pastors, who participated in an Augsburg CGEE program in Central America as a St. Olaf student in 2006. “We’re challenging and inviting students to integrate what they’re learning with their own set of values, their own processes of discernment about who they want to be and the world they want to build.”

That discernment goes hand-in-hand with immersion—in community meetings, at kitchen tables, and in places where theory intersects with real life. Lutterman-Aguilar describes how quickly abstract ideas give way to empathy.

Once students have seen different realities up close, she says, indifference becomes harder to maintain and their engagement increases.

Northern Ireland: conflict, peace, and transition

One of CGEE’s newer program offerings takes students to Northern Ireland, where they study conflict, peace, and social transition in a region shaped by decades of division. The program builds on longstanding partnerships and focuses on how communities navigate reconciliation after violence.

From the late 1960s through the 1990s, Northern Ireland’s history was marked by The Troubles, a period of violent conflict rooted in political, national, and religious divisions that claimed thousands of lives. For Schwen, being physically present in a place shaped by that history deepens the learning.

“Being in places that are post-war, thinking about how religion and faith and identity play a role in the conflict and in building peace after the conflict, that’s a really unique and amazing opportunity,” says Schwehn, who visited Northern Ireland in 2025.

CGEE does not offer students easy answers. Instead, it asks them to sit with complexity, to listen to voices shaped by loss, resilience, and disagreement, and to reflect on what peace looks like in practice, not theory.

Norway: history, sustainability, and shared questions

If Northern Ireland invites students into conversations about reconciliation, Norway draws them into questions of sustainability, social systems, and equity. These themes connect directly to ���ܲ������ܰ���’s history and Minnesota’s identity.

Launched in Fall 2025 after four years of planning, the Norway program is based in Fredrikstad, south of Oslo, and examines environmental sustainability, welfare systems, and contemporary social challenges.

For Ben Malovrh ’26, an Augsburg computer science major from Shakopee, the impact came as much from daily interactions as from coursework.

“It just boils down to the people,” he says. “I met friends and folks I never would have met, and was exposed to ideas I never would have been.”

For Liken Hefte ’26, an Augsburg urban studies major from south Minneapolis and part of the program’s first cohort, Norway offered a lived example of a society organized around different assumptions than those they grew up with in the U.S.

“So much of the political and societal infrastructure, including for things like transportation, are just more human-centered than we see in the U.S.,” they say. “It created a contrast for me to see and experience a society set up with a different type of community-building in mind.”

At the same time, the program resists romanticizing Norway. Bettine Hoff Hermanson, who helped build and currently leads the Norway program, pushes students to ask difficult questions about oil production, immigration, indigenous rights, and equity.

“While Norway is considered a utopia in many ways, my job is looking at the bigger questions of, ‘Who is Norway?’ to help students consider the notion that change needs to happen, even in a country like Norway,” she says.

Building on 200 years of connection

In 2025, Minnesota marked the 200th anniversary of Norwegian immigration, a milestone that resonates deeply at Augsburg University, founded by Norwegian Lutherans and shaped by generations of transatlantic ties. CGEE’s new semester program in Norway builds on that legacy while looking forward, inviting students to examine sustainability, equity, and social systems in a contemporary Nordic context. Rather than treating Norway as a symbol of the past, the program asks what ongoing relationships, shared challenges, and critical questions can emerge when history becomes a starting point, not an endpoint.

Reflection as curriculum

Across CGEE programs, reflection is not an add-on; it is core to the curriculum. Students write, talk, and revisit their assumptions throughout the semester.

“Part of my grading is their own reflections throughout the semester,” Hoff Hermanson says. “Their own experiences and growth: that’s important to me.”

Those moments often shape students’ sense of vocation. Lutterman-Aguilar recalls students who changed career paths after witnessing the effects of immigration policy firsthand or seeing community organizing in action.

“Whatever their major is, seeing they can make a difference and contribute to the common good is an important part of their experience,” she says.

Learning across difference, together

CGEE cohorts bring together students from Augsburg and partner institutions across the country. Many arrive with different backgrounds, beliefs, and levels of time traveling abroad. Learning to navigate those differences is part of the work.

“The life and viewpoint diversity in our classrooms is really profound,” says Patrick Mulvihill, ���ܲ������ܰ���’s assistant provost for global education and experience and head of the CGEE program since 2017. “Our model asks them to work on those issues together in good faith, even when they strongly disagree with each other.”

That practice feels increasingly relevant.

“Part of these programs is not just to learn about where they’re going,” Mulvihill says, “but about where they’re coming from.”

Students return home with sharper questions about the U.S., about community, democracy, sustainability, and responsibility, and with a clearer sense of how their own lives fit into a global context.

A global legacy, still unfolding

Standing in a fjord, debating social policy with Norwegian peers, or listening to stories shaped by conflict and reconciliation, students encounter something deeper than academic credit.

“One of the things that’s so transformative is these experiences provide a lot of students a sense of hope,” Lutterman-Aguilar says.

And that may be CGEE’s quiet through line: helping students step into the world with curiosity, return with clarity, and carry what they’ve learned—and hope to help change it for the better—into the communities they call home.

Top image: Students bundle up for a hike in Randholmen, a small peninsula located in the Fredrikstad municipality of Østfold, Norway. (Courtesy photo)

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Camera lights flashed. Augsburg students struck modeling poses, alternating between runway-approved stoicism and wide grins. As each image appeared on the camera’s digital screen, the clothing they wore looked good.

Really good.

Lee’RayVone G’everdloaahn ’26 smiled wider than anyone as the reality of months of work was being realized in front of him. The smile was well-earned: He had spent much of his junior year creating connections with organizations across campus in support of ���ܲ������ܰ���’s , an on-campus resource that repurposes clothing, household goods, and other necessities for students for free.

As part of that work, G’everdloaahn discovered that many students assumed the ShareShop’s clothing was too low-quality for them to add to their wardrobe. To ensure students understood that wasn’t the case, G’everdloaahn created the modeling program, showcasing members of the campus community in fresh looks from the ShareShop.

“Seeing everything come together was very fulfilling,” he said. “The whole experience with the ShareShop showed me how well I can lead and how much I can give back if I’m given the opportunity.”

It’s also a shining example of the kinds of experiences dozens of Augsburg students have each year as part of the Bonner Community Leaders program. Augsburg transitioned in 2023 from the Leaders for Equity, Action, and Democracy (LEAD) Fellows program to Bonner, which is part of that work on campuses and with local community partners on a wide range of issues.

“It’s a wonderful, two-sided kind of impact: the impact on the student and the impact on the community,” said Coral Ramos, Bonner’s program manager at Augsburg. “For students, they’re able to have a group of peers who care and are making time for doing things on and off campus that relate to helping and engaging with the community. Through that, students can learn new things or deepen their knowledge. And the people we work with outside Augsburg gain a dedicated young person giving their energy and time to improving their local community.”

Four years of growth

The journey from Puerto Rico to Minneapolis is a little over 2,400 miles. During her first year at Augsburg, Genesis Loza ’27 said the distance often felt longer—that is, until her roommate mentioned the Bonner program. Intrigued, Loza dug deeper, discovering a ring of familiarity with her home culture.

“So much of what I was raised with in my country and family is similar to what you do with Bonner. You get to work with the community, exploring and investing in the area you’re part of,” Loza said.

Now in her third year in Bonner, Loza has invested not only in the community but in her own development as a leader. Her experience with 826 MSP’s after school program exemplifies why Bonner has been and remains such a strong realization of the university’s mission to educate students to be informed citizens, thoughtful stewards, critical thinkers, and responsible leaders. Bonner sits at the intersection of all those outcomes.

“It’s all about you wanting to better yourself and your community. You commit fully to gain an experience that you won’t forget,” said Teresa Kemp ’25, who recently partnered with the Brian Coyle Community Center in Minneapolis. “The possibilities for friendships and connections that you wouldn’t have gotten any other way are huge.”

Bonner students generally start in their first year at Augsburg and go through a cornerstone activity each year: a first-year trip to places like Chicago; a second-year exchange with Bonner students at other colleges and universities; a third-year leadership experience; and a senior capstone. Through it all, selected students—who typically come from lower-income or first-generation backgrounds—are paid to partner and work with a wide range of campus and community organizations.

“You have to show up on the regular, do whatever needs to be done, and be willing to share not just your skills but some of who you are. Learning will happen in that process, no matter what,” said Jenean Gilmer, program manager for community engaged education, who said Bonner stands on a decades-long foundation of community partnership between Augsburg and the surrounding Cedar-Riverside neighborhood. “So much of this kind of experiential learning is about feelings and relationships. It requires flexibility and openness, authenticity, and being clear about what you have to offer.”

Supporting students in their development of that authenticity is part of regular meetings and touchpoints for the Bonner students on campus, Ramos said. The program’s cohort model and intentional community-building help students build a tight-knit network of friendships and professional relationships, as well as leadership skills.

“It was such a supportive group, especially for me when I first got there,” Kemp said. “Transferring in as an older student, it was hard to make connections. I was fortunate in the Bonner program: Everyone was so welcoming, open, and wanting to learn from each other. It helped me settle in at Augsburg and became a community I really relied on.”

Those communities extend beyond Augsburg and Cedar-Riverside as well: As a national organization, Bonner connects students in its programs to institutions throughout Minnesota and the United States, especially during the sophomore year exchange. And with opportunities like Bonner Congress in Chicago, where case studies and solutions to community challenges are presented and studied, students widen their networks and broaden their ideas.

“The range of opportunities and experiences you can have as a Bonner student are pretty amazing,” Loza said.

‘So much more than that’

Back on campus during his senior year, G’everdloaahn appreciates the opportunity to talk about the value of his experience with Bonner. In fact, it’s at the heart of his senior capstone experience. As a student programming assistant with Bonner, G’everdloaahn is building on his own experiences to help shape even better ones for those coming after him.

“We’ve just started the Bonner Families program this year, where we’re funding three Bonner student leaders to guide their fellow students through their experiences,” G’everdloaahn said. “I’m really excited to see how we can help students connect even more deeply.”

“The energy of where we’re at [as a program] and where we’re going is really exciting,” Ramos added.

As G’everdloaahn nears the end of his four years of growth as a Bonner student, his leadership skills, community network, and set of formative experiences have grown. His perspective, too, has grown.

“When I first learned about and joined Bonner, I essentially just thought it was a job. I didn’t realize it was so much more than that,” he said. “Now I’m doing everything I can to help other students and the rest of our community know it, too. Bonner has exceeded all my hopes and expectations.”

Top image: Genesis Loza ’27, Lee’RayVone G’everdloaahn ’26, and Beti Milashu ’27 attend their Bonner Leadership Team meeting. (Photo by Courtney Perry)

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In the summer of 2008, Juventino Meza ’11 began a long train ride from St. Paul to Seattle, eager to begin a weeklong program through Seattle University. An undocumented student at the time and unable to travel abroad, Meza says this was his chance to travel within the United States—and undergo a series of experiential learning opportunities through partnerships with colleges and universities.

Focused largely on the destination ahead of him, Meza wasn’t expecting the journey to hold even more meaning.

A woman named Elizabeth approached him on the train and asked if she could sit next to him. Through their conversation, Meza learned that Elizabeth’s mother, Shelby (Gimse) Andress ’56, had also attended Augsburg and was the university’s first-ever female student body president.

After being elected the first Latino and undocumented student body president, Meza met Andress in-person for the first time in May 2010—fittingly on ���ܲ������ܰ���’s campus.

“And we’ve been friends ever since,” Andress says.

A new family member

Separated by generational, race, ethnicity, class, and citizenship status differences, a lasting friendship between Meza and Andress may have seemed unlikely to many. When they met, Andress was nearing retirement, after spending more than three decades as a consultant, facilitator, speaker, trainer, and evaluator for Search Institute, a national youth development research organization. Having worked in more than 350 communities in 35 states and Canada, Andress was well-traveled and seasoned in her career, while Meza’s professional life was only just beginning.

Meza says it was Andress’ initial curiosity about his life that solidified that she was destined to be more than a casual acquaintance.

“My whole experience at Augsburg was impacted by my immigration status,” he says. “Whenever anyone wanted to talk to me, I made sure they knew about my experience. I have always wanted to make sure people heard positive stories about immigrants and not just the negative rhetoric that always floats around. And Shelby was always eager to ask more questions and learn more.”

Over the years, Andress became a regular within the Meza household, getting to know Juventino’s parents and younger siblings. From birthday parties to casual gatherings, Andress says she feels very much a part of Meza’s family.

“I have so many favorite memories,” she reflects. “Learning about their [immigration] experience, what it was like for them. Communicating without them knowing English. I felt so close to them, even though we didn’t speak the same language. They were loving and accepting, always.”

Representation matters

With his background serving as motivation for his path forward, Meza’s many accomplishments have been a great source of pride for Andress. A peace and justice studies major while at Augsburg, Meza has since played a critical role in the founding of both NAVIGATE MN, a leadership development program for immigrant young adults, and Capitol Pathways, a program aiming to diversify Minnesota’s policy sector. He also served as an unwavering advocate for the creation or passage of Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program, the Minnesota Dream Act, and the Minnesota Green Bank.

In addition to service with the Minnesota Council on Latino Affairs, the Immigrant Law Center of Minnesota’s policy committee, and Portico Healthnet, Meza has also been awarded the Ohtli Award, the Mexican government’s highest recognition for a civilian Mexican living outside Mexico. Most recently, Meza graduated from Mitchell Hamline School of Law and became one of just a few undocumented immigrants to graduate law school in Minnesota. He was sworn in as an attorney this past May and granted permanent resident status, making him eligible for citizenship in three years.

“It’s very meaningful to be able to observe his growing, his developing,” Andress explains. “Watching him grow into his profession has been an amazing joy in my life.”

Both Meza and Andress express gratitude for their milestone service to Augsburg as student body presidents. While the campus climate and their individual areas of focus certainly differed, given the decades that separated their experiences at Augsburg, it was a common trait of persistence that secured the position for them both.

“We’re stubborn people,” Meza says, speaking for himself and Andress. “It’s the stubbornness of ‘why not me and why not now?’ It was about representation; we needed to be in the room. We were opening doors for other people. When I was at Augsburg, we talked a lot about serving the neighbor and your vocation. And my experience at Augsburg still echoes through what I’m doing now.”

Auggies for life

In many ways, the relationship maintained between Meza and Andress mirrors their continued connections to the Augsburg community. Both have been back for Homecoming numerous times since graduation and say that their prioritization of ongoing campus involvement has made all the difference.

“[Meza] has been very generous in showing up regularly,” Andress reflects. “It just amazes me.”

An English major while a student, Andress was heavily involved with Augsburg Women Engaged, serving as a philanthropy council member for years. She received a Distinguished Alumni Award in 1992, has shared career insights through public speaking opportunities, and continues to contribute toward the , actively supporting current students who have a passion for teaching.

Meza says he has also returned to campus post-graduation, having been invited by student groups to speak about civic engagement and getting involved in politics. He was also honored with a First Decade Award in 2022, which recognizes young Augsburg alumni with significant progress in professional achievements and contributions to the community.

Conversations that count

Considering their history of service on student government and lifelong dedication to community engagement, it’s no wonder that politics are a common source of conversation for the pair. On the surface, they are both self-proclaimed “news junkies”—Andress carefully reads every page of the morning newspaper, while Meza lives and breathes the news through his work in public policy. But beyond their media consumption lie deeper conversations, centered around life, loss, relationships, and career changes.

For Meza, building connections across generations isn’t something that happens frequently, but their shared friendship has further motivated him to connect with others who are different from him.

“People tend to get stuck in their bubbles of people with similar beliefs or ages,” he says. “Shelby mentioned when we first met that she enjoyed connecting with young people because she wanted to stay connected to the world. For me, it has been sobering to have conversations with Shelby that no one else is able to have about loss. When there are deep losses in your life, you have to remember that life also continues. I don’t have other relationships that are honest like that. I’ve found that to be really meaningful in my life now.”

For Andress, her memories of Meza are less about the topics they discuss and more about what she feels inside.

“There are a lot of details I don’t remember and so many things I can’t express. But I can feel it in my heart—this warmth that I have for this young man.”

Update: died on November 1 at the age of 92.

Top photo: Juventino Meza ’11 and Shelby (Gimse) Andress ’56 meet on ���ܲ������ܰ���’s campus to catch up. (Photo by Courtney Perry)

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Her master’s degree prepared Ashley Viere ’15 MSPAS for her role working with patients at Regions Hospital.

Then, while continuing to care for patients, she became the hospital’s central director of advanced practice clinician fellowships in January 2023. As she took on additional responsibilities, Viere felt she needed to expand her skill set.

That led to her interest in a first-of-its-kind Augsburg University doctoral program in Minnesota.

Beginning Fall 2025, ���ܲ������ܰ���’s Doctor of Medical Science program offers physician assistants/associates (PAs) a pathway to career advancement in health care leadership and administration, research, public policy, academia, and specialized clinical practice.

“I hope to learn skills that make me a more well-rounded and effective leader so I can help drive innovation in both PA education and practice. I’d also like to develop research skills that will allow me to contribute to evidence-based studies that may advance the PA profession,” she said.

Viere was impressed by how thoughtfully Augsburg faculty and staff approached the program to ensure students could achieve their individual professional goals. “The program’s mission to provide high-quality and impactful educational content with a health equity lens resonated with me,” she said.

“Our first cohort of 15 students includes experienced clinicians, innovative leaders, and dedicated educators,” said Diana Soran, program director for the Augsburg DMSc. “I am proud of the talent and commitment they bring. I know they will support one another to excel in the program and in their careers.”

The four-semester program is designed around the busy schedules of working PAs. Students take three online courses each semester for a total of 36 credits. The program contains a core series of focuses in leadership, health care management, health care education, and research. The asynchronous format allows for flexibility and adaptability, prioritizing individual needs and balanced schedules.

“We’ve established university and mentoring resources to support students to do original research in the program. This opportunity is not available at all DMSc programs,” Soran said.

To be eligible for admission, students must hold a master’s degree in PA studies (MPAS, MSPAS, or equivalent) or a bachelor’s degree in PA studies plus a minimum of five years practicing as a licensed physician assistant.

Augsburg established Minnesota’s first PA program in 1994, and Augsburg School of Health Director Vanessa Bester sees the DMSc as an opportunity for the university to be an innovator in the state again as many physician assistants seek career development opportunities.

“Without a doctoral degree, it is hard for PAs to get a seat at the upper administrative or leadership table. Part of that is because the foundation of a PA masters’ education does not include leadership, teaching, and management skills,” said Bester, who also serves as a faculty member in the DMSc program.

“We see that even PAs who have been in practice and in leadership positions are being overlooked or left out of critical conversations at a higher administrative level within the health care sector.”

As the curriculum of the PA master’s program was being updated in 2023, Bester led the proposal for the new doctorate.

The PA field emerged during the 1960s doctor shortage when medical programs were developed for Vietnam War veterans who had experience as medics but no formal training, Bester said. Similar to their nurse practitioner counterparts, PAs work with patients, order diagnostic tests, and can prescribe medicine.

Today, most PAs in the growing field earn a master’s degree to practice. While the credential prepares them for working with patients, it’s the physicians and nurses with doctorates who typically earn the majority of leadership roles within the health care sector.

Soran recalls working as a PA for 11 years when she started to feel she wanted more. “There are different avenues you can pursue, but too often you hit roadblocks with people viewing you as ‘just a PA,'” she said. “Our nursing colleagues have excelled at securing a seat at the leadership table through advocacy and professional development. The DMSc degree helps PAs build skills and credibility to ensure our voices are also part of the conversation on the future of health care.”

To move forward, Soran completed a DMSc at the University of Lynchburg in Virginia, focusing on trauma-informed care. As a result, she expanded into consulting, lecturing, and keynote speaking in addition to her clinical work.

Besides being the founding director of ���ܲ������ܰ���’s DMSc program since February, Soran also serves as an Augsburg clinical assistant professor.

“I was really able to take control of my career trajectory in a way that was unique and fit my needs and my values—something that I wouldn’t have been able to without the doctorate degree,” she said. “Now I’m here at Augsburg working as program director. I’m loving the work and am excited to see where our students take the degree.”

More doctoral programs are emerging nationally to address the need for PAs to gain leadership and research tools. The development of ���ܲ������ܰ���’s DMSc program was a direct response to Minnesota’s workforce needs.

The program is designed for students to integrate key learnings from the program into their clinical practice and, finally, toward their doctoral capstone project.

“I think there’s a concern among PAs nationally that we don’t have a doctorate simply to have letters after our name,” Bester said. “We want a doctorate to be meaningful and truly promote and propel PAs in their work. At Augsburg, we wanted to be able to create a program that gave people additional skills for the rest of their career.”

Marah Czaja, an Augsburg clinical assistant professor in the Master of Physician Assistant Studies program who works one day a week at Hennepin Healthcare’s addiction medicine department, is also part of the first DMSc cohort. She expects the doctorate will boost her professional growth in academia and potentially into health care’s upper management ranks.

“I’m really hoping that I can integrate a lot of what I am learning in the program with my professional career as an instructor at Augsburg,” she said.

Clinton Billhorn ’18 MSPAS is pursuing the degree to become “an effective and competent researcher” and to improve his clinical practice caring for patients at Lakeview, Methodist, and Regions hospitals in the Twin Cities metro area.

The flexible format also appeals to him.

“I work seven days on and seven days off. The asynchronous design of the program, working at your own pace and meeting deadlines, will really help me maximize my time when I’m not at work,” said Billhorn, also an Augsburg adjunct faculty member in the Master’s-level PA program.

To give the cohort a sense of community, the program pairs students with a DMSc faculty mentor, links them to community PA leaders, and provides experiential learning designed to meaningfully support their professional development.

Viere is looking forward to the insights of her peers as well as the faculty expertise about broader issues in the rapidly evolving health care sector.

“Health care in the United States is so complex. I’m looking forward to learning more about the industry and how to strategize for the future. PAs are already an integral part of patient care, and if included in the conversations, I believe we can help make health care more sustainable for our patients, colleagues and organizations.”

Top image: DMSc Program Director Diana Soran speaks to members of the program’s first-ever cohort. (Photo by Courtney Perry)

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Dhruti Panchal couldn’t imagine spending the next five to seven years writing articles and logging data, but most doctoral programs she found focused on research and publishing clinical psychology rather than practicing it.

“Having worked in community mental health, I wanted to positively contribute to health and well-being while going to school,” she explained. She kept searching until she found a practitioner-scholar model that empowers students to apply research to social justice and mental health efforts in local contexts.

Panchal found Augsburg.

During orientation for the Doctor of Psychology in Clinical Psychology program last fall, Panchal learned the university had shifted the structure of its academic programs from two large divisions to five schools focused on the arts, business, health, humanities and social sciences, and natural sciences.

Provost Paula O’Loughlin explained how the five-schools model aligns ���ܲ������ܰ���’s organizational structure with the university’s core values and its goals for the future: “The schools serve as smaller academic neighborhoods where students have closer ties with peers and mentors, greater support for career exploration, and a deeper sense of belonging—all of which empowers them to succeed in their professional lives and as leaders in their communities.”

Interprofessional and community-centered education

Panchal liked the sound of five schools, but—as a student—she didn’t anticipate noticing the effects of a structural shift. As the semester progressed, however, she witnessed various disciplines working together “to gain a better understanding of the complex and interdisciplinary nature of health care,” she said.

The School of Health invited Panchal to help launch its Interprofessional Clinical Education initiative later this spring, which will facilitate students’ professional development and collaborative practice skills. Panchal said this and other interdisciplinary projects have deepened a sense of shared identity among the school’s departments, which also include nursing, social work, and physician’s assistant studies.

“As part of the initiative, we are creating a virtual telementoring program that allows students to build and exercise skills as they work through real-world problems,” she said. “This telementoring will play a big role in furthering and facilitating community by bringing together students, faculty, community partners, and alumni for professional development, resource sharing, and interprofessional education.

“By learning to work with different disciplines to solve real-world health problems as a team, students are better prepared for practica, internships, and jobs.”

Director of the School of Health Vanessa Bester said she and the other four school directors are eager to build partnerships and foster dialogue. “The five-school model has created a platform for us to work together, with outcomes driven by our collective energy and dedication to each other, our students, and our communities,” she explained. “It’s been exciting to be a part of that momentum to foster collaborative, inclusive, and transformative education.”

The School of Health held a fall retreat for faculty and staff to celebrate, connect, and plan. From the retreat, the school formed working groups focused on five areas: shared operational resources; interprofessional education; grants and funding; community and alumni relations; and student success.

In less than three months, Bester said, the School of Health is on track to centralize student onboarding, establish a graduate student government, and build a database to support future funding opportunities.

Lori Brandt Hale, director of the School of Humanities and Social Sciences, worked closely with department chairs last fall to identify opportunities for collaboration among this school’s 36 undergraduate majors and two graduate programs, all deeply rooted in experiential education and social justice.

“Many productive conversations emerged from our work together, including hands-on discussions, which opened up opportunities to collaborate, cross-list, and advise students to take appropriate classes in other departments. We ensured classes were being offered across all time slots and sequenced appropriately,” she added. “We want to create a habit of this kind of robust, collaborative work.”

Brandt Hale will facilitate a school-wide retreat in the spring to amplify and leverage opportunities for cross-disciplinary collaboration and curricular innovation in the new school structure.

Strengthened community connections

That collaborative work and spirit extends beyond the confines of each school. The five school directors meet weekly to share and discuss, and Hale said those university-wide connections may lead to the new model’s most innovative outcomes.

“Each director brings a unique disciplinary lens to important conversations regarding university-wide or community issues,” Hale said. “As members of the faculty, we have a clear sense of the needs and challenges of the departments and programs under our direction.”

Jeanne Boeh, director of the School of Business, said school directors act as translators between disciplines within their schools as well as with other directors and university leadership. That deeper understanding of their school helps directors better advocate for and identify opportunities across the university and in the community.

“This model,” she said, “makes us collectively stronger and more agile. We can do more and be more.”

A stronger sense of identity and purpose, Boeh added, helps faculty and directors better communicate with external stakeholders. For example, she said, “It’s easier to approach a community partner and say you are the School of Business rather than the Division of Professional Studies. They know what a School of Business is, so the five-school model makes more sense to people outside of the university. It gives them more direct access to decision-makers.”

With deep ties in the community, the School of Business will explore ways to expand signature programs, including the Augsburg Entrepreneurship Cup, a competition for student entrepreneurs, and the Innovation Scholars program, which engages students in the business development of medical innovations.

“We are just getting started,” Boeh said, “but it’s an exciting time to be an Auggie or to partner and dream with us.”

A clear approach

Ben Stottrup, director of the School of Natural Sciences, said he is proud of the way Augsburg has responded to its natural growth. “University leadership is constantly reflecting on how we can best serve our students and the community,” he said.

“The shift to five schools is not a critique of what was, but a demonstration of ���ܲ������ܰ���’s commitment to personal, hands-on learning and experiences that prepare students to lead.”

The previous Division of Arts and Sciences, he said, supported 50 majors and managed nearly 100 full-time faculty. Division-wide meetings were few and far between, and faculty were not always clear about whom to approach with ideas—an opaque complexity that could stifle creativity and collaboration. Requests for reports and data collection pulled faculty away from teaching, research, and service.

“The five-school model reduces layers of structure to provide faculty, staff, and students with a more direct link to administrators,” Stottrup said. “Each director has a seat at the table and can take on much of the work to plan and create efficiencies for administrative tasks and reporting.” The new structure, he added, has also revealed ways to eliminate redundancies and create more user-friendly processes, which gifts faculty more time and energy to prepare students to be critical thinkers, informed citizens, and thoughtful stewards.

A deliberate evolution with philanthropic promise

Stottrup said he and his fellow directors have benefitted from the thoughtful and transparent formation of the five-school model, a process that began in 2019 with an interdisciplinary, campus-wide task force that explored ways to adapt to ���ܲ������ܰ���’s growth and institutional goals.

In April 2023, Augsburg announced the creation of the John N. Schwartz ’67 School of the Arts. Established through an estate gift from a visionary alumnus, the school houses 12 undergraduate majors in narrative, performing, and visual arts, as well as master’s degrees in music therapy and creative writing.

O’Loughlin said that the collaborations and efficiencies that emerged from the creation of the Schwartz School spurred conversations about expanding the school-based model across disciplines. Augsburg faculty unanimously voted to approve the shift to five schools in Spring 2024.

The Schwartz School also opened ���ܲ������ܰ���’s eyes to the fundraising promise and power of more connected, focused communities of practice. “Putting a name to a school,” O’Loughlin said, “furthers a sense of pride, history, and connection across generations.”

Schwartz School Director Christopher Houltberg said it’s been a privilege to create student learning and experiences that demonstrate that “we can do so much more together than we can separately.”

In late January, the school came together to participate in the Great Northern Winter Festival, which engages the Twin Cities in 10 days of outdoor activities, live music, art, dining experiences, and community conversations. Houltberg said “Expanding Landscapes & Impossible Futures” invited the public into a multisensory experience to explore physical and psychological shifts of climate change.

“In response to our external environment, humanity’s own internal systems and senses have adapted, evolved, shifted, and sometimes even faltered,” Houltberg said. “This event showcased the range of artistic output among the school’s 10 undergraduate majors, two graduate programs, five performing ensembles, three art galleries, multiple annual theater productions, and the Design & Agency trans-disciplinary design studio.” Citlali Flores ’25, a studio art and art education major, said the shift to five schools has created more visibility for her work and major.

“Since the formation of the Schwartz School, I’ve seen more resources for our art department, and it feels bigger,” said Flores, an aspiring elementary school art teacher. “It’s also been fun to see more non-art majors taking art classes because they want to try different mediums of expression. It gets us all out of our bubbles.”

Hearing students and even community members reflect on visible progress, Houltberg said, encourages the schools to continue toward creative and bold outcomes.

Panchal said she and other students are proud to know the university is continually learning, as they are, about the best ways to move through and impact the world. Rather than data entry, her next five to seven years will be a brave experiment for all she can accomplish within a close, imaginative, and driven campus community.

“I didn’t settle and kept looking for a university that shared my vision to positively contribute to the health and well-being of my community,” she said. “I’m now laying the groundwork for a project that will positively impact students’ learning experience, including my own, and I look forward to engaging in all the collaborative efforts that will come from more focused schools of learning and service.”

Slideshow: Expanding Landscapes & Impossible Futures

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Top image: Augsburg University’s inaugural five school directors gather on campus. Left to right: Lori Brandt Hale, Jeanne Boeh, Ben Stottrup, Vanessa Bester, and Chris Houltberg (Photo by Courtney Perry)

The post The Structure of Us appeared first on Augsburg Now.

The application process includes a written exam and a grueling physical test performed while wearing 50 pounds of gear. In St. Paul, candidates have to be EMT- or paramedic-certified before they are eligible for hire. Hiring periods open only every few years, and prospective firefighters can spend years on the eligible hiring list.

Despite a perfect score on his entrance tests, it took three years and five separate panel interviews before Jamie E. Smith Sr. ’04 got a job offer from the Saint Paul Fire Department in 2013. He was starting over mid-career in a field that is mentally challenging and inherently dangerous, making one-third what he earned as a real estate agent.

But Smith knew how to work hard in pursuit of a meaningful goal. Six years and three months later, he was promoted to captain—one of the fastest advancements in department history. Today, as deputy chief, he holds the third-highest rank in Minnesota’s largest fire department and serves as the SPFD’s fire marshal and public information officer.

“It was speaking to me,” he says of his decision to join the department in 2013. “I became a firefighter to make a difference in my community.”

Smith spent his early life in South Minneapolis and St. Paul’s Rondo neighborhood before moving to the suburban east metro as a teenager, where he was frequently one of the only Black students in class or on a team. The contrast between his childhood in the city and his new surroundings was stark. “I looked around at people who had more financial stability than I had ever experienced,” he says. “I wanted to know, what’s the common denominator? How do I get there?”

The difference, he decided, was a college degree. Smith looked to sports as a financial pathway to higher education, joining ���ܲ������ܰ���’s football team as a running back and later switching to wide receiver. (“The best decision I ever made,” he jokes, “since I graduated high school at 155 pounds.”) As an athlete, Smith intended to pursue physical therapy as a major and a career path, but anxiety about his ability to manage the required science coursework crept in. “I was passionate about it, but I let my insecurities and self-doubt get in the way,” he says.

Instead of physical therapy, Smith declared a major in history education. Throughout college, he coached basketball, track, and football at a local middle school. He had an affinity for the job; he liked working with young people, he was good at it, and the school had a permanent position lined up for him after graduation.

But when Smith became a father during his junior year at Augsburg, he worried about how he would support a family on a teacher’s salary. Out of a long list of alternatives generated by a career aptitude test, “real estate” stood out to him, despite his lack of sales experience. Remembering how it felt to give up his interest in physical therapy, Smith decided he wanted to bet on himself this time. He graduated and took a job with Keller Williams Realty. His mentor in the business told him, “It’s not going to be easy, but I can show you how to do this job. I can teach you if you listen.”

It was a frightening leap of faith. In his first six months as a real estate agent, Smith sold “maybe four houses.” He was 21 and had a baby at home, and the job was 100% commission-based, meaning no salary and no safety net.

His mentor turned out to be right on both counts. It wasn’t easy, but Smith hustled, set goals, developed consistency and daily routines, and learned how to deal with failure and keep going. His hard work paid off: The next year, he made six figures. Yet, Smith found himself deflecting criticism from friends and family who questioned his choices.

“People said I wasted my college education, taking on debt for a history degree—absolutely not! It’s not just what you learn in the classroom. It’s the lessons about how to respond to self-doubt and challenges when life gets in the way. At Augsburg, I learned how to buckle down to get things done correctly and on a deadline. That directly translated to success in real estate,” he says.

The degree itself mattered, too. When the 2008 financial crisis hit, it devastated the mortgage lending industry. Overnight, Smith’s income was cut in half, “despite working twice as hard.” To make ends meet, he worked a variety of jobs, including managing the food department at a SuperTarget and selling legal products for Thomson Reuters—all of which required a bachelor’s degree.

When the housing market started to recover, a return to real estate seemed obvious. At the same time, Smith’s father and uncle, both St. Paul firefighters, were encouraging him to think about joining their profession. Having witnessed their struggles as Black men hired in the 1970s, he had previously refused to consider firefighting for himself. But his uncle in particular wouldn’t let it rest, telling Smith, “The pride you will have riding in that truck is something you can’t get anywhere else.”

This time, something clicked. “By then, I recognized that money can come and go,” Smith says. “I went into firefighting for the pride and fulfillment that public service brings—something that chasing money simply did not.”

He left real estate to learn the family business. It turned out that he loved being a firefighter—and that his Augsburg degree made a difference. While a degree isn’t a prerequisite to become a firefighter, it is required to advance in leadership. When opportunities for promotion came along (first to captain, and five years later, to deputy chief) Smith was both prepared and qualified.

He’s also still relying on the liberal arts education he received at Augsburg, from critical thinking to public speaking. As fire marshal, he oversees teams tasked with public education, fire investigations, and code inspection and enforcement. As public information officer, he serves as the department spokesperson and media liaison, handling communications, speechwriting, and public events. There’s no such thing as a typical day. Beyond responding to fires, SPFD handles emergency medical care, technical rescues, structural collapses, ice water rescues, and much more. Smith is always on-call for major emergencies.

“Firefighters get into this job to do the work,” he says. “We’re all adrenalin junkies who get a rush from being in the middle of the action where there are real stakes. My current role still fulfills that need for excitement, whether it’s being on camera or being the public face during an emergency situation.”

Most of all, being in leadership amplifies the impact he’s able to make on the community that his parents and grandparents came from and still call home. It’s not always easy, but he’s willing to put in the effort.

“Get up and do the daily stuff,” he says. “That’s what I’ve learned. As a father to three sons, I tell them life isn’t about how hard you can hit or avoiding challenges. It’s about getting back up. We all want the easy way out, but success is not found there.”

Top image: Deputy Fire Chief Jamie E. Smith Sr. ’04 is a member of the Saint Paul Fire Department. (Photo by Courtney Perry)

The post Alumni Spotlight: Deputy Fire Chief Jamie E. Smith Sr. ’04 appeared first on Augsburg Now.

All colleges and universities share a relationship with the community they’re situated within.

����������ٳ������𲹰���,������������󾱲԰� started to sense there was something unique about Augsburg and its relationship with the surrounding Cedar-Riverside community.

“The consistent message I heard from the young people I spoke to in the neighborhood was that Augsburg has kept inviting us in,” he says. “Augsburg has shown its long-term commitment to being part of the community.”

That change-making work drew Fink to Augsburg, where he now serves as an assistant professor of social work and director of ���ܲ������ܰ���’s Sabo Center for Democracy and Citizenship. What he has seen at Augsburg has only confirmed his impressions of a university committed to preparing its students to be agents of positive change in their communities.

“It’s in the water and the air here. Once students arrive, they understand what the university is about because it’s built into so much of what they do here,” he says. “[Augsburg students] understand their role in the world is to be part of the community they live in, and to contribute to it in a meaningful way regardless of what they decide to do for their career.”

Countless alumni have brought life to ���ܲ������ܰ���’s mission, enacting both local and systemic change. Erin Boe ’23 MAT, Jamil Stamschror-Lott ’16 MSW, and Jasmine Grika ’14 are three recent examples, transforming lives and garnering recognition for their innovative leadership. Within their unique spheres of influence, they model what it means to be an Auggie.

Inclusion through art

It’s the fall of 2024, and Erin Boe is seeing her impact in real time. Then again, that’s a near-daily occurrence.

Her classroom at Maple Grove High School is the home base of the Unified Art curriculum, which pairs students with and without disabilities in collaborative art projects. Boe says she created the 12-week curriculum as a framework for art to teach life skills, leadership, and compassion.

“It’s incredible to see what happens in this classroom and how these ideas cascade outward,” Boe says. “I tell my students from day one they’re becoming active agents for social change.”

It’s very intentional that disability inclusion and change-making are at the heart of Boe’s curriculum, which she developed in partnership with the Special Olympics.

“When I was at Augsburg, inclusion efforts weren’t an isolated topic; they were embedded in every class,” Boe recalls. “We were constantly encouraged to question how our work could foster belonging. This critical thinking and intentionality were embedded into the forefront of everything we did, so we were putting culturally-relevant pedagogy at the front of every class.”

Boe was recently named Minnesota’s 2024–25 Art Educator of the Year, a recognition that has brought visibility to her groundbreaking curriculum and helped spread its ideas to educators across the United States.

“It makes me want to think bigger,” Boe says. “How can we spread the message further and grow our impact into even more communities?”

Transforming mental health care

It’s the fall of 2005, and Jamil Stamschror-Lott is wide awake in class.

He’s been waiting for something like this, exactly what his undergraduate sociology professor is speaking to: explanations for why Stamschror-Lott has seen so many people who look like him being mistreated. The class helped him name and contextualize so many of his own life experiences, from his family’s early years in rural southern communities to his middle and high school years in Minneapolis and St. Paul.

“I struggled socially, emotionally, and mentally, and so did many of my African American peers,” he says. “My family had a caring experience and a level of stability [through my mom, who] went to college and worked as a nurse for 30 years. But I was recognizing what was happening to African American folks like me and those around me who have been marginalized, oppressed, and dealt with all these different ‘-isms.’”

That kind of exploration sparked Stamschror-Lott’s career and a desire to provide an “outlet of relief for folks experiencing that marginalization.” After several years seeing many of the same inequities impacting youth in detention facilities and schools, Stamschror-Lott felt he needed a more advanced degree to attain his desired level of impact. ���ܲ������ܰ���’s Master of Social Work program provided the training he wanted at both the micro and macro levels.

One year after graduating in 2016, he and his now-wife, Sara, took the leap into opening their own practice, Creative Kuponya, which provides culturally-responsive care outside the traditional medical model. The impact has been immense, with more than 6,000 free or reduced-cost mental health sessions completed since. Eighty-six percent of sessions have served people of color, with the majority of those clients receiving mental health services for the first time.

“To see so many concepts and stereotypes be busted in this process has been remarkable,” Stamschror-Lott says. “There’s been a perceived stigma of, ‘Folks of color do not go to therapy.’ However, what I have witnessed is that to connect with someone who speaks my language, has walked in similar shoes, it is extremely liberating. I’m incredibly happy and proud of the connections we’ve made.”

The Stamschror-Lotts’ work was recently affirmed when Jamil was named a 2024 Bush Fellow, which will support his and Creative Kuponya’s work the next two years.

“It’s been a phenomenal journey,” Stamschror-Lott says.

Advocating for Native communities

It’s the fall of 2012, and Jasmine Grika just had a light bulb moment. She’s been talking with Jennifer Simon, then-director of ���ܲ������ܰ���’s American Indian Student Services, who encourages her to explore a career in social work.

“This all really clicked at Augsburg. I had been adopted at age 10 and had these life experiences shaped by the Indian Child Welfare Act,” says Grika. “I was starting to understand the successful impact [the Indian Child Welfare Act] had on me, having that cultural preservation from being raised by family members with the same background as me,” including citizenship in the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe through her mother and a tribal affiliation with the Red Lake Nation through her father. “That [contextual learning at Augsburg] sparked this passion in me to really drive systems change and help people understand the importance of cultural and family preservation on a systems level. Everything took off from there in those beginning stages.”

Grika’s experiences at Augsburg helped shape her passion and skills toward radical change, and after graduating she continued her education at Washington University in St. Louis. After completing her master’s degree, she returned home, working with the Ain Dah Yung Center to decrease disparities among American Indian families in the child protection system. Three years later, Grika transitioned to a St. Paul-based nonprofit, Alia, this time advocating for national child welfare systems change.

Just two years ago, Grika completed her doctoral degree in social work from the University of Southern California. She is now the tribal collective supervisor for the Minnesota Department of Human Services, which focuses on strengthening government-to-government relations between the state and Minnesota’s 11 tribal nations.

Last year, Grika was also named a fellow at the University of Minnesota Hubert H. Humphrey School of Public Affairs, where she spearheads work to shape legislation on data sovereignty within Native American and Indigenous populations.

Through all her professional work experiences and advocacy efforts, Grika has built on a foundation of cultural identity and drive for change that her time at Augsburg helped shape into her ongoing vocation.

“Representation is so important in the systems that impact our community,” she says. “It can be off-putting to work for a system that has historically done harm, but the only way it will change is through representation from the communities that are impacted by these policies.”

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Top image: Student portraits line the wall of a Maple Grove High School hallway near the classroom of Erin Boe ’23 MAT. (Courtesy photo)

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People have a way of remembering where they were and what they were doing when unexpected tragedy or loss strikes.

Matt Beckman, associate professor and biology department chair, arrived to Augsburg more tired than usual, still rattled by the violent winds from the night before. Ready for his early morning lab, he parked his car before looking out to the campus landscape.

Katie Lawson Ishida ’12, a development operations manager at Friends of the Hennepin County Library, was notified by her husband of news shared on Facebook. The Augsburg Greenhouse page had posted, and it couldn’t be more pertinent.

Vanessa Walton, an Augsburg community gardener, was working in her University of Minnesota office when she received a text message from the garden manager. In a state of shock, she immediately left campus, determined to see the damage for herself.

Shayna Sheinfeld, assistant professor of religion, drove to ���ܲ������ܰ���’s campus, carpooling with a new colleague. After parking, she suggested they take a new path to the office, wanting to introduce him to her favorite landmark.

Leon van Eck, associate professor of biology, opened his inbox, discovering a new message from his department chair, advising caution when coming to campus. There was damage from the recent storm—a downed tree near Hagfors Center.

In the early morning hours of August 27, the tallest member of the Augsburg community fell to the ground beneath her. Folks at Augsburg and beyond had widely regarded her as “The Loveliest of Trees” and experienced an array of emotions when they first saw her lying horizontal. Anger. Sadness. Disbelief. Shock. Each having their own reasons why the tree mattered to them, they held one thing in common: The moment they saw the tree overwhelming the campus lawn was the moment they fully understood her importance in their lives.

The cottonwood that could

Once part of a collection of 34 species in the Augsburg Urban Arboretum, The Loveliest of Trees was a plains cottonwood, the most massive species in Minnesota and the fastest growing tree in all of North America. This makes plains cottonwoods a natural fit for life in the Mississippi River floodplain and lakeshores, stabilizing soil for the long-living trees that succeed them. Another distinguishable trait are their seeds—cottony filaments, dispersed in the wind by the tens of millions.

Walton, along with many of her fellow community gardeners, had another name for the tree’s seeds.

“I would often call that our ‘summer snow,’” she smiled. “The cottonwood fuzzies would land in everybody’s plots and all over the grass. I describe the tree as being a grandmother that would watch over the garden; you kind of felt nestled and safe under her.”

Experiencing the same summertime cotton through the years, Van Eck offered another narrative.

“Our large controlled plant growth rooms [in the Hagfors Center] require some air conditioning units that are on the roof of the building,” explained ���ܲ������ܰ���’s plant biologist. And while he looked forward to having students back in the lab, Van Eck also knew that summertime coursework brought with it clogged vents through the cottonwood’s natural dispersal of seeds.

“Sometimes my growth units would go down. Later on, some of the little seedlings would actually sprout on the rooftop—the children of The Loveliest of Trees trying to expand its empire,” Van Eck laughed. “The plant doesn’t let you forget that they were here first and that human endeavors are very secondary.”

What’s in a name?

If cottonwood trees are so fast-growing, resilient, and common—especially in the state of Minnesota—then what made this tree worthy of the title she was given?

To truly know the tree is to understand her history. And that’s exactly what Beckman was tasked to do in the aftermath of the storms on August 27.

After an introduction from Van Eck, Beckman assisted University of Minnesota dendrochronologists Kurt Kipfmueller and Dan Griffin in beginning the process of dating the tree’s origin. Rather than utilizing the traditional method of evaluating a large slab—which would have been too heavy, taken too long to dry, and may not have given the most accurate age calculation—the trio instead decided to incorporate a newer technique.

Using an increment borer, they collected several samples around two feet in length, similar in appearance to a wooden dowel. One side of the sample was then sanded flat, making for a better view of the tree’s rings.

The analysis is ongoing, but the tree’s estimated age was 70–80 years old.

Back then, she would have come from humble beginnings, planted as a simple backyard tree by the owner of a house no longer standing. In fact, the whole neighborhood changed, as individual residences became Augsburg campus offices and housing. Plans were made to build Hagfors Center. The remaining houses were demolished, and the trees she once stood amongst were taken down one by one. The lone cottonwood tree could have been the next to go, but neighbors and members of the Augsburg community saw her value and advocated for her survival throughout the planning and construction of the Norman and Evangeline Hagfors Center for Science, Business, and Religion.

And so she stayed, a center of gravity at the northwest corner of campus.

As plans to construct Hagfors Center were beginning, a Google Maps point of interest was created by an anonymous user. The title, of course, was “The Loveliest of Trees,” likely referencing a poem of the same name by British writer A. E. Housman. A nickname given by a few eventually became a widely used term to refer to this most massive tree on campus—and the only Google Maps entry to hold the title worldwide. Although now listed as “permanently closed,” The Loveliest of Trees can still be viewed in the various stages of her prime, from July 2007 to June 2019, through a Google Street View.

Through an ever-changing lens

For Sheinfeld, visual reminders of the tree are as close as the camera roll on her phone.

In her first days at Augsburg, she saw the tree through quick glances on her way to and from the parking lot. Shortly after, she began to notice the tree, observing it through different eyes than she had initially. The leaves would change. The lighting was different. Yet, the tree itself was a constant presence.

That’s when she got the idea to track the tree’s progress through photos. A week after celebrating Tu B’shvat, a Jewish holiday that marks the “New Year of the Trees,” she officially began a series on February 13, 2023.

Despite not having a background in photography or a grand affinity for the outdoors, Sheinfeld felt an indescribable connection to the cottonwood. “Eventually, I stopped going in the nearest door and started walking around the building so that I could get a better look at the tree,” she said. “It was almost like watching a child grow, except that you get to see such differences in a much shorter period of time.”

Her full collection of photos can be viewed through .

Like Beckman, Van Eck, and many other professors whose offices reside in Hagfors, Sheinfield didn’t have to rely on ideal weather conditions to enjoy the mighty cottonwood. She even changed her office orientation, shifting her desk so she could see out the window and gain a more accessible view of her favorite tree. Seeing the tree’s day-to-day changes was what ultimately altered her relationship to it.

Jewish tradition isn’t the only one that holds trees in high regard.

Walton gained a first-hand understanding of the importance of trees through a global lens. Her position as a program director in the Learning Abroad Center at the University of Minnesota frequently takes her to Thailand and Senegal, where specific trees carry meaning related to spiritual beliefs, national symbols, cultural heritage, or other identities.

“In Senegal,” Walton explained, “the tree that is considered really sacred is the baobab. Where a baobab grows, you leave it. You’ll be driving in parts of Senegal and the road will curve to go around it.”

Walton said that you don’t have to leave the country, or even the state, to encounter cultures that value trees. Three years ago, she attended a Dakota blessing on ���ܲ������ܰ���’s campus. Facilitated by Dream of Wild Health, the ceremony celebrated not only the start of the gardening season but also the cottonwood tree that provided shade and a meeting place for those who worked in the garden.

“They told the story about how a visiting star from the sky led to the creation of the cottonwood tree and its importance in the Dakota culture,” Walton recalled. “When you open a branch, you can see the little star. It’s a beautiful story.”

When she learned that the tree had fallen, she wanted the chance to come together with others who loved this Loveliest of Trees, as she had for nearly 10 years. She wanted to make time to mourn, not alone, but in community.

Slideshow: “The Loveliest of Trees” Memorial Service

Leaving room for grief

Walton got her wish.

Alex Fink, faculty director for the Sabo Center for Democracy and Citizenship, proposed a memorial service in honor of The Loveliest of Trees, which was held on August 30. Members of the biology department, including Beckman and Van Eck, assisted in the planning and spoke during the service. Sheinfeld, along with Campus Ministry, offered interfaith blessings and prayers. Walton shared a reflection, and other attendees were invited to do the same.

For Lawson Ishida, the memorial was her first time back on campus in years. She had recently had surgery and was just getting back on her feet, but she couldn’t imagine not taking this opportunity to say goodbye to an old friend.

While she was a student at Augsburg, the space beneath the tree had calmed her when she was feeling lonely or stressed, providing a safe and grounding place to collect her thoughts. Her back against the trunk, she would often close her eyes and listen to the song of the leaves in the breeze.

On the day of the memorial, in the same spot she used to go when she felt the most alone, Lawson Ishida found comfort, not from the tree, but from the individuals who loved the tree most.

“I got this chance to understand how much this tree meant to so many other people. It helped me gain a little perspective on the ways in which our lives intersect in these places and spaces—and that we’re maybe not as alone as we think. It rekindled some hope during a time when feeling hopeful can be challenging. I think that was something that The Loveliest of Trees left us.”

As friends of the tree left the memorial, they took with them physical reminders of her presence in their lives. A leaf. A branch. A piece of bark. Final photos. The cyanotype artwork they had created as part of the memorial service.

The takeaway for Van Eck, who wrote both the tree’s and eulogy, is the “live fast, die young” nature of cottonwoods, carrying with them a deep, symbolic parallel to human life itself.

“At the time scale of our own lives,” Van Eck explained, “it kind of makes you feel small and like your life is small. But realizing that your life is very small and very finite actually makes it feel more precious. I think that tends to be the way that folks at Augsburg look at our lives. A small life well-lived can really be a very impactful one in the long run.”

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Top image: Piles of leaves, branches, and trunk—once referred to as “The Loveliest of Trees”—lie still on the campus lawn, August 2024. (Photo by Courtney Perry)

The post The Loveliest of Trees appeared first on Augsburg Now.

“Each person is directed to learn, work, and serve with faith-filled purpose,” said McCormick. “At the same time, vocations are not singular or set in stone. They don’t always come with a paycheck. And they may feel ordinary.

“Sometimes the things we are most called to do in life are the most difficult or mundane, but over time, we often find many moments of joy and love, even in those difficult or routine parts of our callings,” she said.

McCormick didn’t have an “aha” moment on a hilltop. Discerning her vocation was a slow process that came into focus at Augsburg University, which invited McCormick to intentionally and systematically consider her life’s purpose. Classes, extracurricular activities, and volunteer roles blended faith, learning, and service as a way of life—and it stuck.

“I love ���ܲ������ܰ���’s focus on holistic, hands-on learning,” said McCormick. “My urban studies and youth and family ministry classes helped me grow in my understanding of faith, religion, community organizing, and more. My participation with Campus Kitchen, campus ministry, and residence life gave me practice planning, leading, and coordinating events. I developed language skills through my Spanish minor and enhanced my capacity to work cross-culturally through my study and internship abroad.”

An unwavering commitment

Augsburg President Paul Pribbenow loves hearing alumni share stories about their vocational discernment, which is “at the heart of the Augsburg experience.” Other universities may integrate the spirit of vocation into their missions, he said, but Augsburg is distinct in its unwavering commitment to help students discover and live out their mission to serve others.

“We call it a three-dimensional education: educating students to make a living, make a life, and build community,” he said. “This combination of experiences means that students gain the education and skills they need to get a job or pursue a profession, and they also learn how to discern the other roles they will play in their lives, all the while learning that everything they do must be done alongside others in community.”

During her freshman year at Augsburg, that emphasis on collaborative, community-focused work inspired McCormick to help establish Campus Kitchen, which is a hunger relief organization that serves Minneapolis and is part of the national Campus Kitchens Project. These and other opportunities to “be the change” helped her realize she could make a difference. McCormick translated skills she gained in event planning and promotion, relationship building, grant writing, and more to other roles on campus and to her work and life after graduation.

“My college experience has so many profound and meaningful memories, and many of them center around people believing I could achieve good things and supporting me through the process,” said McCormick, who was named a “Neighborhood Hero” by the Minnesota Housing Finance Agency in 2005 and won the first annual Sodexo Stop Hunger Award in 2007.

Pribbenow said ���ܲ������ܰ���’s focus on vocation encourages students to see themselves in the possibilities.

“We live in a world marked by scarcity, transactional relationships, and loneliness. Our understanding of vocation runs counter to each of these challenges,” he said.

“We encourage students to see the world through a lens of abundance, to see relationships as meaningful and mutual, and to seek to build community wherever they go. That is the sort of world we want for our students, and we believe vocational discernment is the means that will help them build it.”

Mentors matter

As the Bernhard M. Christensen Professor of Religion and Vocation, Jeremy Myers is among those guiding the university’s vocational mission to “serve our neighbor.” Myers also serves as the executive director of ���ܲ������ܰ���’s Christensen Center for Vocation, which works with partners across and beyond the university to create innovative ways for individuals and communities to discern vocation in a range of contexts.

He is among the faculty who teach required classes that challenge students to explore vocation, diversity, and the role of religion in society.

“At Augsburg, we talk about vocation as the unique ways each person, institution, or community is compelled, equipped, and empowered to make the world more just and sustainable through all the various roles they play,” explained Myers.

“This is incredibly important right now because students are looking for a sense of belonging and meaning in their lives while also pursuing a degree they hope will guarantee a good career. We want them to know that meaning, purpose, belonging, and vocation aren’t elusive ideas hiding in their future, but are available to them right now.”

James “Bear” Mahowald ’13 said he would not have discovered his vocation had it not been for Augsburg faculty mentors—including Myers, Matt Maruggi, and James Vela-McConnell—who modeled what it is to live your truth and vocation.

“When I came to Augsburg, I was less than a year out of rehab and incredibly guarded. But these and other leaders at Augsburg took me as I was and nurtured and guided the good in me,” he said. “They held me accountable in both my schoolwork and in being a human in a complicated world, which allowed me to get to where I am today.

“I’m not sure there is a place outside of Augsburg where my experience was possible.”

Mahowald was part of StepUP® at Augsburg University, a nationally recognized residential collegiate recovery program. The Minnesota native pursued a dual major in sociology and religion while attending mandatory meetings in a sober living community.

“To say my time at Augsburg was life-changing would be an understatement. There is rarely a day that passes where something or someone from my time at Augsburg doesn’t show up in my life. It was my time at Augsburg that taught me that my vocation was more than just a job I might get one day, but a way in which I live my life. It’s about how I show up for others.”

Today, Mahowald shows up for others as a husband and uncle; as a manager with City Year, a national service program; and as a doctoral student in educational policy at Wayne State University in Detroit. He works with students who are “victims of the school-prison nexus,” and he uses his life experiences and lessons to guide them and policymakers.

“My vocation is a combination of living as my true authentic self and using my experiences and the lessons I have learned from mentors to help guide young people,” he said. “I am not sure you find your vocation so much as it is revealed to you through following your heart, your soul, and exposing yourself to a variety of experiences and reflecting on them.”

‘Everyone deserves the opportunity to consider their why’

Writer and activist Chris Stedman ’08 is among those who teach core courses that challenge students to reflect and explore life’s meaning and purpose. Since 2020, he has taught Religion 200: Religion, Vocation, and the Search for Meaning II, which builds on an introductory course of the same name that explores vocation, pluralism, and diversity.

Stedman said he challenges students to consider how they can find vocation, self, and purpose through the stories they tell themselves. The final project is an expression of how each student’s gifts intersect with the needs of the world.

“Each final project is unique, with students sharing how they’ve come to understand what matters most to them and why, as well as their aspirations for how they want to show up in the world and relate to others, considered through the lens of what their communities need,” said Stedman, the author of two books that explore these themes: “Faitheist” (2012) and “IRL: Finding Realness, Meaning, and Belonging in Our Digital Lives” (2020).

The projects have taken many forms, including a 35-page graphic novel, a 15-minute short film, original music, and poetry. Students decide on the format to best express their vocation and story, with the understanding that it can—and will—likely change throughout their lives. Stedman pushes students to consider the application of vocation across cultures and differences.

“The concept of vocation is not exclusively Christian, but some students come into my classroom with assumptions about who it’s for. I try to drive home the idea that everyone deserves the chance to consider their ‘why,’” said Stedman, who also serves as research fellow at ���ܲ������ܰ���’s Interfaith Institute. “I am upfront with my students that I’m a queer atheist with a strong sense of vocation and deep, enduring ties with Augsburg. I hope that my perspective helps drive home that all people, whether religious, nonreligious, or unsure, can benefit from having the opportunity and space to consider life’s big questions.

“My hope is that students finish the semester with a deeper understanding of their values and worldview. These things are of course always evolving, but we can learn a lot about them when we come together across lines of religious difference and explore these questions together.”

Stedman keeps in touch with students who have found their purpose during his class. One student who had intended to “just go where the money was” shifted her focus after Religion 200.

“By the end of the class, she realized she wanted, in her words, ‘more than that,’” Stedman explained. “Now she is a development coordinator for a nonprofit that funds abortion access. Her final project, specifically, shifted the way she understood the world and changed how she saw herself in it. We continue to keep in touch, and it’s awesome to see her living such an inspiring, examined life.”

The student becomes the teacher

The required classes about vocation also made a tremendous impact on Rosie Benser ’13, who appreciated the time and space to reflect on her self-worth and purpose. In high school, Benser was among Minnesota’s estimated 13,000 youth who experience homelessness. She slept on friends’ couches while she attended school—or not.

She “managed to graduate,” and then, “on a whim,” applied to Augsburg. Religion, Vocation, and the Search for Meaning was among her first courses at the university, and it “flipped her understanding of purpose.” Her parents hadn’t attended college and thought vocation was a person’s job.

“I realized that our purpose in life is to apply our greatest skill to the needs of the world, and that no skill or job is any better than another. I am about to become a mom, and it’s a good reminder that some of our most important work is not tied to a paycheck.”

Benser fell in love with school at Augsburg but was still uncertain about her specific role or career. She applied to a few graduate schools but didn’t receive an adequate financial aid package, so she enrolled in AmeriCorps for a year. She discovered her gifts as a teacher and ultimately enrolled in graduate school to study sociology at Syracuse University. As a doctoral student, Benser researches the intersections of poverty and addiction.

“I used to think I needed to be boots on the ground [in service work] to make a difference. I see that through my husband, who is a social worker. But I am good at teaching, and teaching is a need in the world. Through my teaching, I hope to educate and create awareness about important issues. That is meaningful to me. That is my vocation.”

Her time at Augsburg, and specifically the religion classes, taught her how to be “an adult and community member who thinks more globally” about her impact and how she engages with others.

Pribbenow is adamant about that broad interpretation of vocation: “It reflects the multiple ways in which we respond to external forces. It may be a profession, and it also may be roles as parent, sibling, neighbor, citizen, and so forth. In fact, I believe for most people, our vocations reflect multiple intersecting roles that we play in the world.

“Personally, I am an educator by profession—and I am also a parent and sibling and spouse and citizen. I live out my vocation at the intersections of those various roles.”

The Christensen Center for Vocation: Where theory meets practice

The Bernhard Christensen Center for Vocation helps guide this holistic understanding of vocation and its application through learning partnerships and creative initiatives that address pressing needs.

The Christensen Scholars Program is a community of 10 upper-level Augsburg students who spend a full academic year together in a seminar-style course. Christensen Scholars engage in a deeper interdisciplinary exploration of Christian theological reflection and vocational discernment related to their personal lives and the social realities of the world they live in.

The Confluence is a weeklong, on-campus experience held each summer, during which high school students practice vocational discernment, intentional community, spiritual practices, self-reflection, theological inquiry, and experiential learning.

The Riverside Innovation Hub is an incubator for people and communities to explore the public church in the neighborhood. Along with the learning communities, the Hub is launching two additional projects: a book that amplifies young adult voices to the church, and the , an online network where people can learn from and support one another in their work to connect with their local communities, know their neighbors, and become public church.

Top image: Jeremy Meyers speaks at the Christensen Symposium, 2022 (Photo by Courtney Perry)

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Jasa McKenzie ’14 didn’t know much about art when she arrived in Minneapolis from rural South Dakota for college in 2010. For that matter, she hadn’t known much about Augsburg University before crossing Riverside Avenue on a whim after a University of Minnesota campus visit. A generous scholarship offer led her to enroll at Augsburg.

The art program convinced her to stay.

“When I came to school, even though I didn’t know anything about art, I figured that people don’t know how to be a doctor, and they go to school for that. I don’t know how to be an artist, so I’ll go to school for that,” she said. “The Augsburg art program scooped me up and set me off in the art direction.”

After pursuing curatorial opportunities in New York, Southern California, and Germany, McKenzie is back in Minneapolis, where she now works as the producer of The Great Northern festival. She regularly crosses paths with former professors and colleagues from Augsburg in the vibrant Twin Cities arts scene. When Associate Professor Chris Houltberg shared the news about a gift to establish a named art school at Augsburg, she was thrilled.

“Any success I have—and even just the fact that I know about curating as an option—comes from Augsburg,” McKenzie said. “I feel like if I mention Augsburg, people might think of the nursing program, or maybe science. I’m always like, ‘No—the art program!’”

An Augsburg arts school

The Augsburg Schwartz School of the Arts, first announced in April 2023, brings together the performing, visual, and narrative arts into a single hub of creative exchange at Augsburg. This new administrative structure includes existing programs in art and design, creative writing, film, music, music therapy, and theater, as well as new opportunities to innovate across disciplines.

At a time when access to arts education is increasingly jeopardized across the United States, creating a new arts school might be a countercultural move. But leaders at Augsburg see it as the perfect time to double down on creative expression.

“We’re staking a claim that the arts matter, the arts are essential for everyone, and that in a world moving toward automation, we need creative thinkers and creative problem solvers,” said Houltberg, who was tapped to lead the Schwartz School as its inaugural director. “We’re going to need the outcry and the ability to articulate the human experience, which art has done in all its various forms.”

The Schwartz School was made possible through a transformative gift from Regent Emeritus John Schwartz ’67, for whom the school is named. A longtime supporter of Augsburg music students, Schwartz sang baritone and toured Europe with the Augsburg choir as an undergraduate—an experience that ignited a lifelong love of choral music. His time at Augsburg indelibly shaped his worldview and his leadership approach over a four-decade career as a healthcare executive.

In many ways, he is the model for the goal ���ܲ������ܰ���’s faculty has adopted for the Schwartz School: “a life changed through the arts.”

“Although his career was outside of music, I think John Schwartz exemplified the greatest hope we have for liberal arts students: that they have a love and appreciation for the arts, even if they go and do something completely different,” Houltberg said.

Designing from scratch

Two of ���ܲ������ܰ���’s defining attributes—the diversity of its student body and its location in the heart of Minneapolis—make it a particularly exciting place to establish a destination arts hub, according to faculty.

“The arts constitute one of the most vital economic sectors in the Twin Cities, in turn one of the strongest creativity markets in the country,” said Kristina Boerger, the John N. Schwartz Professor of Choral Leadership and Conducting. “Serving our students—many of whom have not previously been privileged with access to quality arts education and training—means making strong arts education available in the heart of this metropolis.”

Artists’ ability to adapt to change and to work with fluidity makes the arts an ideal testing ground for a new, interdisciplinary school, added Houltberg. Twenty-first century artists are required to move between disciplines in a way that has only accelerated in recent years. Today’s students are arriving eager to collaborate, already innovating across genres, technologies, and boundaries.

The challenge has been coming up with a structure to facilitate and sustain this type of creative exploration, not constrain it. Over the past year, Houltberg has led the arts faculty in a collaborative process to develop a vision for a unified arts school with a distinctive Augsburg flair.

The Arts at Augsburg Slideshow

The faculty sorted into five working groups focused on intersections, identity, structure, curriculum, and “big ideas” for the Schwartz School. “I had always been apprehensive about trying to get consensus amongst faculty, because it’s challenging,” Houltberg laughed. “They’re all very intelligent, autonomous folks. And then if you have artists on top of that, they’re really independent thinkers!” But, he said, what quickly emerged was a powerful blend of creativity, openness, and camaraderie.

The working groups tackled big structural questions—not in the sense of a new building or physical location (neither of which is currently planned)—but in terms of how students spend their time and how the curriculum can be reimagined to facilitate interdisciplinary cross-pollination. New “on-ramp” and “sampler” courses are being developed to lower barriers to exploration for majors and non-majors alike. Parallel scheduling for lab time across programs will make it easier for students to work together—for example, writing original music for a theater production or collaborating on a film script—and for students from any discipline to attend events with local creatives.

There is also abundant opportunity to build on the strengths of existing programs in a multidisciplinary context. Rachel Bergman, the Leland B. Sateren ’35 Endowed Professor and Chair of Music, noted that in addition to performance, the music department offers a variety of degree types, including music business, music therapy, and music education. “One of the things we’ve been talking about in preliminary conversations is how to broaden that to look like arts education or arts administration, so that it’s more comprehensive than just music,” she said.

Bergman added, “I’ve been at several different institutions. It’s really refreshing to see how grassroots this process has been, in terms of the faculty having the opportunity to come together and figure out what we want the Schwartz School to look like.”

Learning by doing

���ܲ������ܰ���’s signature commitment to hands-on learning is perhaps nowhere more salient than in the arts. So it’s no surprise that even the process of developing the Schwartz School has been a site for collaborative learning and creative exchange.

As a film production and history double-major, Ellis Garton ’24 is intrigued by the ways film directing leverages different skill sets: storytelling, photography, screenwriting, and more. He learned of the Schwartz School through a documentary film production class last year, when the rationale for the school became immediately concrete.

Part of a team tasked with shooting a promotional video for the Schwartz School, Garton found himself working with a creative writing student on the assignment. “I kept thinking, this would have been helpful before now!” he said. “I could have known this person long before and developed a relationship, where we could have worked on projects together.”

Darcey Engen ’88, professor and chair of theater arts, pointed to this type of collaboration as the greatest promise of the Schwartz School. In an interview for the short film created by Garton and his teammates, she said, “We know that when students graduate, they tend to stick together. They call each other to work on projects. Your colleagues at Augsburg become your colleagues in life.

“Now, with the Schwartz School of the Arts, these students will leave with a music colleague, an art and design colleague, a film colleague, and that’s going to propel them forward to create really complex, culture-specific art in ways that we haven’t seen here at Augsburg before now.”

From trust to belonging

One after another, the faculty working groups zeroed in on the fact that arts “classrooms” permeate much further than the boundaries of campus. From concerts and exhibitions to performances and publications, the arts require public-facing engagement.

How do you foster the courage for students to put their work out into the world? By building trust—in themselves, their craft, and each other.

“One of the things that John [Schwartz] described to me in great detail was when he was singing in a European church,” Houltberg recounted. “He said, ‘I just remember thinking, I shouldn’t be here. I’m a small kid from a southwest Minnesota town.’

“In addition to amazing opportunities like singing in European churches, music gave him identity and belonging. Oftentimes, I think our students think, ‘I don’t belong here.’ But we know that they do. They just need the space and the time and the place and the opportunities to experience it.”

McKenzie found that sense of belonging in her design classes, as an intern in the Augsburg Galleries, and now as an alum, where she’s come full circle to partner with Houltberg and other Augsburg colleagues on a multidisciplinary project that will explore themes of climate change for The Great Northern on campus this January. She is delighted by the idea that the Schwartz School will bring a level of recognition to ���ܲ������ܰ���’s arts programs that is commensurate with their quality.

“Personally, my life was changed by the arts,” she said. “By the arts at Augsburg.”

Read more about the life of John Schwartz ’67.

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Top image: Augsburg students in a paper making and marbling art class (Photo by Courtney Perry)

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