Alumni

Family shares courtroom and campus legacy

Rachel Sauer — Fri, 01 Aug 2025 20:06:32 +0000

Family shares courtroom and campus legacy Rachel Sauer Fri, 08/01/2025 - 14:06

Cody DeBos

Father and daughter Donald and Maureen McGinnis both pursued ��ƷSM��ӰƬ educations and then careers in the law

When Judge Maureen McGinnis (PolSci ’00) steps into the courtroom, she carries more than a robe and gavel with her. Several decades of family legacy and lessons in reputation, integrity and the power of doing the right thing have brought Maureen where she is today.

But her journey to the bench didn’t begin in law school. It started at the dinner table during conversations with her father, Donald McGinnis (A&S ’69), a respected Michigan attorney who built his own career on relationships and the strength of his word.

Don and Maureen McGinnis at a legal event, one of many they have attended together.

“I’ve always looked up to my dad,” Maureen says. “Getting an opportunity to grow up in a family where you have a parent that’s a lawyer, you get sort of immersed in that.”

Maureen’s immersion led her to follow in her father’s footsteps to ��ƷSM��ӰƬ, where Donald first fell in love with the idea of carving his own path in life.

“It’s been a great ride for me from back in Boulder all the way until now,” Donald says.

CU roots of the family tree

For Donald, ��ƷSM��ӰƬ was a natural fit. His parents were avid skiers, and he’d grown up making trips out west. When it came time to choose a college, there was little question where he would go.

“It was definitely going to be CU without question,” he says. “I think it was the only place I applied.”

His daughter didn’t need much convincing, either. Long before she would set foot on campus, she had already envisioned her future as a CU Buffalo and a lawyer.

“I was the seventh grader wearing the University of Colorado sweatshirt and telling everybody I was going to go to law school. I don’t think I ever wavered from that,” she recalls.

What began with an interest in skiing in the 1960s has since evolved into a lifelong connection to a place that would shape the beginning of both their careers. For Donald, the legacy is deeply personal.

“Obviously, my legacy is my daughter attending CU, which is a very proud one. She also chose to join my profession and then excelled so well at it. I couldn’t be prouder,” he says.

A shared journey in the courtroom

Despite knowing she wanted a career in law, Maureen says she didn’t know what her path would look like. Long before she wore a judge’s robe, she walked into her first job as a lawyer and found herself working alongside her dad.

“I don’t think I had a huge plan for exactly what I was going to do once I became a lawyer,” she says. “But the door was open. As soon as I started working with my dad, there was nothing to figure out. I wasn’t going to leave.”

Donald McGinnis built his family law practice from the ground up, never working for another firm, never having a boss. Running his own practice has helped him understand more than most the value of connection in a field that can be harsh and impersonal.

Don McGinnis (left) moves for Maureen McGinnis' (right, back to camera) admission to the State Bar of Michigan to practice law.

“I would always like to be remembered as the handshake lawyer. If I tell you something and shake hands on it, I don’t need to have 18 emails and five letters,” he says. “That’s the way I would like to be remembered—as a lawyer’s lawyer.”

During her time working at her father’s law practice, Maureen absorbed plenty of legal strategy, but his passion for reputation also bled through.

“People will talk about how you treat them, how you honor your word. … I remember that being really constant in our discussions about the practice of law,” she says.

Working with her dad gave Maureen a head start, but most of all showed her that law could be more than a job. It would soon turn into a lifelong calling shaped by values passed down through the generations.

Carrying the legacy forward

After more than a decade of practicing as a lawyer, Maureen felt pulled toward something more. She wanted a way to serve not just individual clients but her entire community.

“I’ve always had a passion for community service and engagement. So, getting to have the role I have now pretty much marries both of those things,” she says.

The role she speaks humbly of is presiding judge at the 52-4 District Court in Troy, Michigan, where Maureen weighs her opinion on cases that impact everyday lives.

She was elected to the bench in 2014, but the decision to run had been quietly planted years earlier in conversations with her father.

Maureen McGinnis (center) celebrates with her parents after graduating law school and passing the bar exam.

“He sort of has this habit of putting something in your head, and if we talk about it enough, it’s like it helps you visualize it—even when it’s something that isn’t really on the horizon,” she says.

Housing disputes, traffic violations and local criminal offenses are just a few of the cases now crossing Maureen’s desk every day. She says it isn’t glamorous work, but it directly shapes her community, and for Maureen, that is exactly the point.

“She sets an example that other lawyers and I commend her for. It makes it easier for the litigating parties when you have a smart judge and smart lawyers,” Donald says.

Reflections on CU and the legacy they’re still writing

Looking back, both Maureen and Donald agree their time at ��ƷSM��ӰƬ influenced more than just their resumes. For Donald, college was a time of discovery and independence. After decades of legal work, he looks back on his time in Boulder as uniquely freeing.

“I took it way too serious,” he laughs. “College is probably the only four-year period of time that you have in your life where you don’t really have a lot of responsibility. You should enjoy it with great vigor, in my opinion.”

Maureen, always focused on the next step, says she sometimes wishes she’d taken more of those opportunities—like studying abroad in Australia. But she’s never questioned the choice to attend CU. In fact, she’s already planning to pass that connection on to her kids.

“If you have an ability to start a legacy in that way, it’s amazing. I feel like having those shared memories about places and things that we experienced at CU keeps my dad and I very close. It’s something you can never take away.”

Don McGinnis on the campaign trail when Maureen McGinnis ran for district court judge.

Maureen McGinnis (first row, right) at her investiture when she was seated as a judge.

Don McGinnis when he returned to Boulder to help his daughter, Maureen, move into Farrand Hall.

Maureen McGinnis (center) with friends while she was an undergraduate student at ��ƷSM��ӰƬ.

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about arts and sciences? Show your support.

Father and daughter Donald and Maureen McGinnis both pursued ��ƷSM��ӰƬ educations and then careers in the law.

Traditional

White

All photos courtesy Maureen McGinnis

Alum’s resumé: veterinarian, reality TV star, stand-up comic

Rachel Sauer — Mon, 09 Jun 2025 17:15:10 +0000

Alum’s resumé: veterinarian, reality TV star, stand-up comic Rachel Sauer Mon, 06/09/2025 - 11:15

Bradley Worrell

As he muses about conservation, 1970s Boulder and how Keith Richards prompted him to finish his college career, Kevin Fitzgerald still has his sights on crafting the perfect joke

Did you hear the one about the veterinarian who is also a stand-up comedian?

It’s no joke.

It’s the very real-life story of ��ƷSM��ӰƬ alum Kevin Fitzgerald, who is a staple of the Denver comedy scene and who has opened for such nationally recognized acts as Joan Rivers, George Lopez, Jeff Foxworthy and Saturday Night Live alums Kevin Nealon and Norm Macdonald.

��ƷSM��ӰƬ alumnus Kevin Fitzgerald (right) with the late Norm Macdonald (left), for whom Fitzgerald opened. (Photo: Kevin Fitzgerald)

Meanwhile, Fitzgerald has spent the past four decades working as a Denver veterinarian who specializes in treating exotic animals and has become something of a celebrity as one of the featured vets on Animal Planet’s popular TV series “Emergency Vets.”

Fitzgerald is also a wildlife conservationist—and with the recent publication of his autobiography It Started with a Turtle—he adds “published author” to his growing list of job titles.

The Denver native enjoys talking about his experiences as a comedian and a veterinarian, but most of all he enjoys reminiscing about his time at ��ƷSM��ӰƬ, where he earned his undergraduate, master’s and PhD degrees. He says the lessons he learned in the classrooms—and in the local music venues where he worked security—shaped him into the man he is today.

“Boulder is a magical place,” he says. “Boulder has a different feel than other college towns—and the campus is absolutely beautiful. I first visited when I was in high school and I decided then and there that it was the place for me.”

Raised in a working class home, Fitzgerald says receiving a scholarship for being on the swim team made it possible for him to be able to attend college starting in 1969.

For his undergraduate degree, Fitzgerald majored in biology, and he credits biology Professor Dick Jones; Professor Hobart Smith, then chairman of the Department of Ecology and Evolutionary Biology; Professor David Chiszar, who was an internationally renowned herpetologist known for his work with rattlesnakes; and history Professor Charles “Chuck” Middleton, whom Fitzgerald says made history come alive, with being mentors.

“Even back then, ��ƷSM��ӰƬ was known as a party school, but if you wanted to, you could get a great education there,” he says. “They didn’t so much teach you as inspire you. I had wonderful mentors who wanted me to succeed.”

Fitzgerald says his initial plan upon entering college was to get his bachelor’s degree from ��ƷSM��ӰƬ and then attend Colorado State University to receive a veterinary degree. However, there was a waiting list to get into the CSU veterinarian program at the time, so Fitzgerald says Jones convinced him to continue pursuing his education at ��ƷSM��ӰƬ by obtaining his master’s and PhD degrees, which he did.

“I’m still reaping the benefits of that wonderful education every day,” he says.

Working security for a hamburger and $1.35 an hour

To earn extra money for school, not long after arriving on the Boulder campus Fitzgerald took a job working for Chuck Morris (the future CEO/president of national concert promoter AEG Live), who hosted concerts at local music venues including Tulagi and The Sink.

“There were so many great venues in Boulder at the time,” Fitzgerald recalls. “There was Tulagi, the Blue Note, The Olympic, Shannon’s, the Good Earth and J.J. McCabes. The music venues were legendary—and they hosted a lot of great bands before they became famous. Not just rock bands, but soul bands and country bands, so there was something for everyone. There was just so much great music.”

Kevin Fitzgerald has been a staple of the Denver comedy scene for many years. (Photo: Kevin Fitzgerald)

Fitzgerald’s job working as a bouncer for local music venues led to jobs working security for concert promoters Bill Graham and Barry Fey, who produced nationwide shows featuring musical acts including The Grateful Dead, Willie Nelson, The Eagles, The Who, Jethro Tull and The Rolling Stones.

Years later, Fitzgerald still recalls Fey’s simple job pitch: “I’m going to pay you a buck-thirty-five an hour and give you a hamburger every shift and you’re going to meet more girls than Frank Sinatra.”

Fitzgerald says he has many fond memories of those times and particularly of the bands who performed—especially The Rolling Stones, who he says never forgot their roots and gave selflessly for some special fans.

“Back in the day, before handicapped seating was widely made available, people in wheelchairs didn’t get good seats at concerts and they were stigmatized by making them all sit together. It was awful,” he recalls. “So, before every show The Rolling Stones did, Mick Jagger would ask me: ‘How many (handicapped) chairs are there, and in which section, Kevin?’

“‘I’d say, ‘23 chairs and they’re in section three.’

“Jagger would grab 23 cassette tapes and 23 concert T-shirts. He’d put a towel over his head or put a hoodie up and he’d personally go to the wheelchair section and hand out a cassette tape and a T-shirt to each person. He’d say, ‘Thanks a million for coming; we couldn’t do it without you,’” Fitzgerald recalls. “He didn’t do it as a photo op; he specifically kept himself covered up so the rest of the concertgoers wouldn’t know what he was up to.

“People can say whatever they want about The Rolling Stones, about Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, but they didn’t forget where they came from,” he adds. “And Mick would always say, ‘We’re blessed. You know, Kevin, we can’t forget how lucky we are.’ That really made an impression on me.”

What’s more, Fitzgerald credits Richards with prompting him to go back to college to get his veterinary degree.

“I remember we were in Philadelphia for a show, with more tour dates coming up, and I was unsure what I should be doing with my life. I was talking about it with my boss, Jimmy Callahan, who was the head bouncer, and he said, ‘Why don’t you ask Keith?’

“I knew Keith, so I asked him: ‘Should I stick with you guys, or should I go back to school?’

“And Keith said, ‘Oh, no, go back to school. Do you really want to be a bouncer at (age) 50?’

“When Keith Richards says something, he’s the coolest cat in the world. So, I got on a plane and I came back to Denver,” Fitzgerald says. “My brother picked me up at the airport, and I said, ‘Keith told me to get a grip on my life and go back to school.’ And my brother said, ‘Well, when Keith says something, you better do it.’ So, I applied to veterinarian school again and I got in.”

Becoming a vet … and a reality TV star

Kevin Fitzgerald has been a veterinarian in Denver for the past four decades and is one of the featured vets on Animal Planet’s popular TV series “Emergency Vets.” (Photo: Kevin Fitzgerald)

Fitzgerald obtained his degree in veterinarian medicine from CSU in 1983. He later took a job with the Alameda East Veterinary Hospital in Denver, where he has been working for the past 40 years.

“Veterinary medicine is a harsh mistress. It asks a lot of us (vets), but it’s very rewarding,” he says. “It’s been a wonderful career for me. To be successful, you have to love animals, but you also have to love people.

“Sometimes people would tell me, ‘My daughter would be a great veterinarian. She hates people but she’s great with animals.’ And I would always say, ‘No, no, no. People have to trust you when they bring their animal to you, so it’s important that you are able to connect with them.’”

Fitzgerald’s role at the Denver animal hospital became much more widely recognized starting in 1998, with the launch of the Animal Planet’s TV show Emergency Vets. At the time, the TV series ER was hugely popular, and the producer believed a reality show about veterinarians treating all types of animals would appeal to Animal Planet viewers, Fitzgerald says. That proved to be the case, as the show and its successor, E-Vet Interns, ran for a combined 11 seasons, and were two of the network’s top-rated shows.

“For me, it was just too weird to watch myself on TV, but it was quite an experience,” Fitzgerald says. “People started recognizing me from the show. Once, I was at the Denver airport and this young kid was staring at me. Finally, he said, ‘You look like that guy from the TV show on Animal Planet.’

“I said, ‘I am that guy,’ and the kid says, ‘Yeah, you wish,’” Fitzgerald says with a laugh.

He says his work as a veterinarian led naturally to his conservancy work. He has served on the Denver Zoo’s board of directors since 2009 and has been involved in several projects, including the creation of a huge nature conservancy in Mongolia.

“There’s 10 million other forms of life on this planet besides us, and we were given this wonderful biodiversity. Those animals are waiting for us to use our intellect to save this place,” he says. “We’re borrowing this planet from our grandchildren, so we have to win this one, because we’re given just this one planet. Realizing that, that’s how I went from veterinary medicine to conservation.”

‘Like being shot out of canon’

While being a veterinarian, an Animal Planet reality TV star and conservationist might seem to all naturally fit together, Fitzgerald acknowledges becoming a stand-up comedian is a less obvious choice to add to the mix. He says he was inspired to do so in part by watching comedians perform as the opening act for bands where he provided security and by seeing one of his friends perform.

“I started doing stand-up in 1986. At the time, a friend of mine was doing comedy, and he didn’t seem that funny to me, but he was getting paid to do it. I told myself, ‘I can at least be as bad as that guy,’” he says with a laugh.

The appeal for doing stand-up comes partly from the enjoyment of making people laugh and partly from the exhilaration of being on a stage, Fitzgerald says, explaining, “The feeling is like being shot out of a cannon.”

It took some trial and error in the beginning, Fitzgerald admits, before he developed his own comedic timing. The strategy he settled on involved trying to tell as many jokes as he could in rapid-fire succession at the start and telling jokes that would appeal to the broadest audience demographic.

“My job is to tell jokes that make everyone laugh—the old guy and the young guy, the black guy and the white guy, the man and the woman sitting next to him,” he says. “I don’t think it works to say, ‘This is a young person’s joke; you wouldn’t understand.’ The best jokes touch everyone.”

Fitzgerald’s brand of comedy was on full display during a recent Sunday evening show at a south Denver comedy club, where he was zinging his audience with one-liners about being an old guy:

“Our lives are short, but they are beautiful. My whole life, whatever I’ve done, has been small and beautiful. The fate of the Western world doesn’t hang on the balance of what I do in the exam rooms with people and their animals, but I try to make my little side of the street better as a veterinarian and also with my conservation efforts.”

“I’m so old my kindergarten had a smoking section.”
“I’m so old I can remember Preparation A.”
“I’m so old that I can run for president in a few years.”

Bathed under white stage lights, Fitzgerald’s flowing white hair gave credence to his position as a veteran of standup comedy, but those jokes about his age (he’s 73) were just a warm-up to a set that ran more than an hour long, and which also included several humorous stories about being a veterinarian and a reality TV star and concluded with a reading from his new book talking about the importance of being kind to animals and people.

Sharing life lessons in print

Fitzgerald says he’s accumulated so many stories and bits of wisdom over the years that he wanted to share with people in a book, but he says that his active veterinary practice and many civic and social commitments made that difficult to do. That changed, however, once COVID-19 pandemic brought much of the world to a yearlong standstill.

“It seemed like the perfect time to get my thoughts down on paper,” he says, adding, “We only have so many days, so we have to make them count.

“Our lives are short, but they are beautiful. My whole life, whatever I’ve done, has been small and beautiful. The fate of the Western world doesn’t hang on the balance of what I do in the exam rooms with people and their animals, but I try to make my little side of the street better as a veterinarian and also with my conservation efforts.

“And I’m not done yet,” he adds. “I still think I’m going to write the perfect joke. I’m 73 and I’m still going to see my pet patients every workday. I can’t bounce anymore, but I still love listening to music.”

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about ecology and evolutionary biology? Show your support.

As he muses about conservation, 1970s Boulder and how Keith Richards prompted him to finish his college career, Kevin Fitzgerald still has his sights on crafting the perfect joke.

Traditional

White

Alum thinks about crime the write way

Rachel Sauer — Wed, 21 May 2025 00:01:33 +0000

Alum thinks about crime the write way Rachel Sauer Tue, 05/20/2025 - 18:01

Doug McPherson

What happens when a freshly minted film studies graduate heads out into the world with no particular plan? How A&S alum Patrick Hoffman went from taxi driver to private investigator to successful author

Back in 1998, Patrick Hoffman had just finished his degree in film studies at the ��ƷSM��ӰƬ when he decided to head back to his hometown of San Francisco with no real plan in mind for a career.

“I was very green when I came out of college,” says Hoffman. “I didn’t have much street smarts. I’d lived a pretty sheltered life.”

Author Patrick Hoffman, a 1998 ��ƷSM��ӰƬ film studies graduate, located his newest novel, Friends Helping Friends, in Colorado.

He ended up landing a job as a taxi driver at night and working as a private investigator during the day. “Driving cabs at night in San Francisco and investigating murder cases are very quick ways to learn about the seamier side of life.”

Those lessons in the seamy side of life informed his recently released novel Friends Helping Friends, a thriller set in Grand Junction and Denver, Colorado, that sees its main character infiltrating a white-supremacist compound on the Western Slope.

Before writing his newest novel—or any of his previous and acclaimed ones—Hoffman realized that what he was seeing in his jobs as a private investigator and cab driver might make good grist for fiction.

Easier said than done, though. Hoffman would get started, but after a day or two, his motivation would melt away.

The best writing advice Hoffman ever got came from a friend who asked him what he wanted to do with his life. “I told him I wanted to write thrillers. He asked what was stopping me. I told him that whenever I started something I felt great at first … but then on the second or third day, the inspiration would go away, and I’d feel like a complete fraud.”

Hoffman’s friend then told him that the bad feelings were actually a good sign, and that the secret was to just embrace those feelings and keep going. “I literally started my first book the very next day and everything that has followed can be traced directly back to that conversation.”

It all started in film classes

Hoffman adds that his film classes were “where it all started.” Those days, he was thinking about very basic things like story and plot. “But those were important questions, and you really get to wrestle with them when you’re studying something like film. I had great teachers, too: Jerry Aronson, Marian Keane and, of course, the legend Stan Brakhage. I also had wonderful philosophy teachers. Gary Stahl, may he rest in peace, comes to mind. The English and Humanities Departments were wonderful, too.”

Following his friend’s advice, and armed with the basics from his ��ƷSM��ӰƬ classes, Hoffman turned out his first novel, The White Van, set in San Francisco and about a troubled young woman wanted for bank robbery and hunted by a corrupt cop who wants the money more than justice.

��ƷSM��ӰƬ alumnus Patrick Hoffman drew on his experience as a private investigator to write his new novel, Friends Helping Friends.

Hoffman is adapting that book into a movie. “Hopefully that happens,” he says.

His second novel, Every Man A Menace, was also set in San Francisco. Clean Hands, his third novel, was set in New York City, where he lives now.

And his latest novel, Friends Helping Friends, takes place in Denver and Grand Junction, Colorado. “For this one, it was time to come back home to Colorado,” he says. “There is a certain comfort in it. Also, Denver makes a great setting for a neo-western noir.”

He admits that before his last novel, he was kind of blocked for about eight months, having a hard time coming up with ideas. “One day I literally just started typing. I thought, ‘OK, there’s a woman in Denver, she’s a lawyer and she’s using steroids, and that was the start of the book. I went blindly from there. That’s how I do it, though. The tricky part is getting started.

“For me, writing fiction is 100% about overcoming self-doubt, being able to see something through to the end. The hard part is always starting the book. But then the middle and ends, of course, are hard, too.”

Part of Friends Helping Friends takes place in a white-supremacist compound. To understand that arena, Hoffman says his 20 years working as a private investigator (he still does it) and handling many murder cases helped.

“So, all of that, of course, informs the fiction. But also, I’ll just Google around and look for federal cases.” And he searches public records for indictments. “I love talking to journalists, too. My wife is a journalist, so she gives me introductions to her friends and colleagues, and I force them to answer all my questions.”

Up next for Hoffman is another book—this one set in Boulder, a place he’s now reminded of regularly when riding the subway in New York.

“It’s been amazing to see Coach Prime make CU trendy. I see people wearing CU Buffalo jerseys and jackets. I’m just like wow! It’s amazing. Go Buffs!”

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about cinema studies and moving image arts? Show your support.

Traditional

White

Degree finally in hand, dancer leaps back onto Boulder stage

Rachel Sauer — Thu, 01 May 2025 22:11:47 +0000

Degree finally in hand, dancer leaps back onto Boulder stage Rachel Sauer Thu, 05/01/2025 - 16:11

Tim Grassley

��ƷSM��ӰƬ alumna Jessica Fudim was two courses away from graduating in 1997; 26 years later, she’s earned her degree

When Jessica Fudim left the ��ƷSM��ӰƬ in 1997, she was two courses away from graduating. Despite being so close, she felt stuck in an unhealthy cycle of signing up for and withdrawing from her final degree requirements. Something needed to change, and she decided it needed to be her studies.

“I’ve learned as a parent, you can only do so much and sometimes you have to cut something out or make something smaller on your plate,” she says. “So, I went to the safe space of being near my parents (in California). But I felt a hurt in my heart about it.”

Fudim went on to have a vibrant career as a dance performance artist, creating and performing original work across the United States. An entrepreneur and, with her husband, a parent of two kids, she owns and operates two businesses: Jessica Fudim Dance and Jessica Fudim Pilates. Despite her successes, her unfinished degree felt like a shadow—an unresolved experience that she privately grieved.

Jessica Fudim portrays Medusa in her dance-theater solo "Venomous." (Photo: Peter Ruocco)

Fudim is not alone. ��ƷSM��ӰƬ’s Office of Data Analytics notes that each year, an average of 23 students who needed to enroll for only one or two semesters return after five years or more to earn bachelor's degrees. Despite the relative frequency of people returning to the university to finish their graduation requirements, it still felt to Fudim like an impassable hurdle. Then, in spring 2024, after exchanging emails with ��ƷSM��ӰƬ friends, faculty and staff, Fudim decided it was time for her curtain call.

“My kids are 12 and 14, and I do feel like I want them to see me finish. I want them to know that I did that.”

A college experience across state lines

Fudim (DnceBFA’24) grew up in Sonoma County, California, where she developed a love for dance. In high school, her dance instructor, Lara Branen, invited Fudim and classmates to attend the summer-long Boulder Jazz Dance Workshop, which Branen co-founded. Many of Fudim’s classes were taught in ��ƷSM��ӰƬ’s Theatre and Dance Building, including performances in the Charlotte York Irey Theatre.

Fudim fell in love with Colorado and Boulder specifically. “It was totally transformative for me,” she recalls. “It helped crystallize this knowing that I wanted to dance—that I am a dancer.”

After graduating from high school, Fudim enrolled at the University of California, Irvine, which she attended from 1991 to 1993. She didn’t feel at home in Irvine, though, and transferred into ��ƷSM��ӰƬ’s Bachelor of Fine Arts (BFA) in dance program in 1994. There, she thrived and was often identified as an example student, full of talent and drive.

Unbeknownst to many of her classmates and faculty, though, Fudim’s balance of school, work and personal life began to fray from the outset of her education. While her father paid her tuition, Fudim at one point held three part-time jobs to cover her living expenses, including the now-closed Espresso Roma café.

“I wasn't living lavishly,” she admits. “I lived on beans, rice, pizza and free croissants from the café. I’m a worker bee by nature, but back then especially, I didn't do a good job applying my work nature in the right direction. I spent more time working at my jobs than doing my academic work.”

Because Fudim transferred from California, some of her classes from Irvine did not count at ��ƷSM��ӰƬ for credit. She found herself on a different graduation timeline than her peers in the BFA program, a social challenge that grew as more friends graduated and left town.

“I think I had another semester or two of work to do,” she says, “but I started to check out. I completed my BFA (capstone) performance, but I withdrew from some classes. I’m so embarrassed that I got Fs in a couple of classes. But I didn’t have the skills to know how to ask for help—to say, ‘I’m struggling and I’m not sure what to do next.’”

Fudim went back to California in 1997, hoping to complete her degree by finishing a few classes at a local community college. Those attempts did not work out. She also tried distance learning but withdrew. Eventually, Fudim moved on.

Medusa (portrayed by Jessica Fudim) with her children Pegasus and Chrysaor in "Venomous." (Photo: Kyle Adler)

“It felt like a bad break up. It felt sad—unresolved. I haven’t been back to Boulder since then.”

A phone call leading to an academic plan

After returning to California, Fudim decided to invest fully in her dance career and, over the next 20 years, experienced tremendous success as a solo artist and with her ensemble company, The Dance Animals. She held several dance residencies, co-directed The Experimental Performance Institute (EPI) at New College of California and, with the late Dwayne Calizo, co-produced, choreographed for and performed in the multimedia performance series “Crash Cabaret: Where Queers Collide” at San Francisco’s Roxie Theatre.

Her most recent solo show, Venemous, which reimagines the myth of Medusa, debuted to critical acclaim, and she considered bringing the show to Colorado and ��ƷSM��ӰƬ. She initially contacted Erika Randall, professor of dance and a friend, about the possibility of creating an alumnus event.

After sending her initial email, though, she felt compelled to follow up. “I sent a second email that said, ‘I want to be transparent—I never fully graduated from CU. It's something that I've wanted to do, and I do feel really motivated at this point in my life to complete that degree. But I just want you to know that I can’t come to Boulder as an alumna. I'm not. I haven't graduated.’”

At that time, Randall was the College of Arts and Sciences associate dean for student success, and part of her duties as dean included overseeing one of the academic advising units that helps students return to ��ƷSM��ӰƬ and complete their degrees. Randall remembers reading Fudim’s email and decided to call.

“When we talked, she said, ‘I had no idea how much not finishing my degree had held a shadow over me and how much it would mean to finish it,’” recalls Randall. “I got really excited and said, ‘You should come back. You should come to our graduation. You should do the performance you had written to me about performing.’”

“That was definitely a turning point for me,” says Fudim. “She is so warm and genuine and so non-judgmental. It was this healing gift to just have her open her arms like that. I didn't even feel at that point that I needed to be courageous. It just felt like I was so excited to do it.”

Randall connected Fudim with Dawn Fettig, an experienced academic advisor with a deep understanding of ��ƷSM��ӰƬ’s historic curricula and degree requirements. As part of her work with special populations, Fettig helps students figure out what courses they need to complete degrees.

To determine how close Fudim was to graduation, Fettig reviewed her transcripts, the university’s old “Permanent Record Card” and handwritten notes included in Fudim’s file. After combing through university documentation, Fettig recreated Fudim’s academic record.

“If I use the transcript as a chronological record, I can see what made sense for a student's progression in their degree,” notes Fettig. “For example, what might make sense for this student to take to complete the requirement? And is there a substitution?”

Fettig emphasizes that the college never waives graduation requirements, and she works hard to maintain the integrity of degrees the university confers. “The ��ƷSM��ӰƬ degree means something to our departments, to our faculty, to our staff and to our students,” says Fettig. “We figure out a way to look at their completed work and ask if it meets the spirit of the requirements as they were set at the time.”

For Fudim, this meant completing a geography requirement as part of ��ƷSM��ӰƬ’s Minimum Academic Preparation Standards (MAPS) and a final departmental stage performance. Fettig found a course in California near Fudim’s home that would count for the MAPS credit. They also explored marking her degree’s stage performance requirement as fulfilled by her career experience and then substituting the required credit with another dance course she had completed at ��ƷSM��ӰƬ.

“In Jessica's case, because her dance degree is a performance art, I did have to go back to the department and say, ‘This is a professional working in the field. I think she’s probably met this stage performance requirement,’” says Fettig.

What would Medusa say if she had a chance to speak for herself?

Jessica Fudim’s dance-theater solo, Venomous, looks at the classic Greek myth from Medusa's perspective and moves her story beyond that of a snake-headed monster.

What: Venomous

When: 6:30 p.m. June 5 and 6

Where: The Pearl Ballroom, 2199 California Street in Denver

Learn more

“She didn't have the class, but she has the experience. She also has other classes that we can use as a substitution” for the major’s requirements.

Together, Fettig and Fudim created a plan that fueled Fudim’s motivation to complete her degree. “Having someone who is in a position of knowledge like Erika and Dawn, who say, ‘Yes, of course you can do this. We have a way for you to do this. And this is awesome.’ I just trusted them—I believed them,” says Fudim. “It shifted my outlook.”

Graduation and healing

While Fudim did have the motivation to tackle her coursework, she still had to juggle a full schedule. “I have two kids and I run two businesses,” notes Fudim. “I do all of my own admin work, and my bookkeeping. My husband works the opposite schedule so that we can tag-team childcare. When I needed to study, I had to plan it.”

Fudim’s mother regularly covered childcare to make room for Fudim to complete her coursework. Many days, her family created a homework club in which they could complete their assignments around the dinner table. This reframed the time needed to finish coursework as an opportunity to connect through shared experiences. While Fudim is happy she received an A in her geography class, the grade plays only a small part in how this experience affects her.

Fudim officially completed her degree and graduated in fall 2024. The experience has widened what she believes possible, and she’s thrilled for fresh opportunities to continue making art, performing and teaching dance. Notably, she will return to Colorado this summer to perform Venemous at the 2025 Denver Fringe Festival June 4-8. While staying in Colorado for the show, she plans to visit Boulder for the first time since leaving in 1997.

“My dear friend and former CU Dance BFA classmate, Kate Weglarz (Thorngren) will be flying out for the show and to go walking down memory lane with me in Boulder,” says Fudim. “I'm excited to return to my roots in Colorado, and to share where I am now as an artist.”

Finishing her degree brings a sense of resolution and a lesson in persistence. “I feel like the primary reason I completed my degree was to create healing,” says Fudim. “It wasn’t closure. It’s opened me back up.”

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about theatre and dance? Show your support.

��ƷSM��ӰƬ alumna Jessica Fudim was two courses away from graduating in 1997; 26 years later, she’s earned her degree.

Traditional

White

Top image: Medusa (played by Jessica Fudim) welcomes the audience in "Venomous." (Photo: Kyle Adler)

CU grad Erin Macdonald makes it so

Rachel Sauer — Tue, 15 Apr 2025 22:18:50 +0000

CU grad Erin Macdonald makes it so Rachel Sauer Tue, 04/15/2025 - 16:18

Bradley Worrell

The 2009 math and astrophysics double major has successfully transformed herself from a scientist to an educator to a storyteller sailing with the enterprise known as Star Trek

As she worked toward completing her bachelor’s degrees in astrophysics and mathematics at the ��ƷSM��ӰƬ in the late 2000s, Erin Macdonald often enjoyed watching Star Trek: The Next Generation with her college friends. Today, she is a science advisor for the entire Star Trek franchise.

“I don’t think I could have ever conceived it, that being able to work in television and movies was a real thing that people could actually do,” Macdonald says in retrospect. “And if you told me that I would see my name in TV credits—not to mention in the Star Trek font with the Star Trek theme playing—it’s almost unbelievable.”

It’s been a remarkable journey from academia to Hollywood, Macdonald acknowledges. Still, she is quick to add that in a multiverse of possibilities, the outcome was never assured, and it did not happen at warp speed.

��ƷSM��ӰƬ alumnus Erin Macdonald, who double majored in mathematics and astrophysics, is a science advisor for the Star Trek franchise and author of Star Trek: My First Book of Space. (Photo: Bradley Worrell)

Raised in Fort Collins, Colorado, Macdonald did not grow up watching Star Trek. However, she was deeply motivated to study science after being inspired by the protagonist astronomer Ellie Arroway in the movie Contact, as well as by fictional FBI agent and medical doctor Dana Scully in the popular TV show The X-Files.

“I watched The X-Files growing up, and Dana Scully for me was just the coolest woman who ever existed. That really sparked an excitement to be a scientist,” she says. “And then when Contact came out, watching Dr. Ellie Arroway use a telescope to find aliens, and seeing her legitimately work as an astronomer was the first time I ever saw that as a career.”

Still, there were some obstacles to overcome, Macdonald says, including the fact that math did not come naturally to her.

“In high school, I had friends who were taking classes that seemed to get it. And for me, I felt like I was trudging through mud trying to understand things—but knowing that I had to get through the math,” she says. Finally, when taking a Calculus 3 course at ��ƷSM��ӰƬ, she says she experienced a breakthrough when she came to understand how math worked with physics, and then “everything just clicked.” It prompted her to immediately declare a double major in mathematics and astrophysics.

Gaining another role model

It also was in college that Macdonald was first exposed to Star Trek through a tightknit group of fellow students who were big fans of the TV shows.

“In the Venn diagram of physics majors and Star Trek fans, there is a big intersection,” she says with a laugh. “I was in my early 20s and (fictional) Voyager Captain Catherine Janeway became my new Scully. She was someone who had gone from being a science officer to a captain. At that point, I knew I wanted to get my PhD, but I didn’t necessarily want to be a researcher as a career. So, Janeway was a role model, how she was a leader and a problem-solver and a mentor. It was something I aspired to.”

After graduating from ��ƷSM��ӰƬ in May 2009, Macdonald enrolled at the University of Glasgow in Scotland, where she earned her PhD in astrophysics in 2012. Normally, a master’s degree would be the next educational step after obtaining an undergraduate degree, but Macdonald credits the quality of the education she received at ��ƷSM��ӰƬ—and particularly the research opportunity and mentorship of astrophysics and planetary sciences Professor Jeremy Darling—with allowing her to immediately advance to working toward a doctorate.

After obtaining her PhD, Macdonald spent two years doing post-doctoral research at Cardiff University in Wales, United Kingdom. She later moved back to Colorado, where she worked as an adjunct professor in the community college system and as an educator at the Denver Museum of Nature & Science for about a year, then transitioned to work as an aerospace engineer for a contractor based in the Denver area.

“In the Venn diagram of physics majors and Star Trek fans, there is a big intersection,” says ��ƷSM��ӰƬ alumnus Erin Macdonald. (Photo: Bradley Worrell)

It was during her time working for the contractor, and while attending pop culture conventions for fun, that Macdonald hit upon the idea that she could combine her deep knowledge of astrophysics with her love of science fiction to give talks on the science of science fiction TV shows, movies and videogames at fan conventions.

“After a while in the private sector, I found I really missed teaching. I was already going to conventions, so I proposed giving talks,” she says, adding that event organizers were receptive to the idea. “For topics, a popular one is physics and Star Trek. I’d say, ‘I did my PhD in gravitational physics, so let me explain how (theoretically) warp drives work, because I actually know the science of how warp drives work.’”

To boldly go …

In 2017, Macdonald moved to the Los Angeles area, where she continued to work in the aerospace industry while also giving science/science fiction talks at fan conventions, or as she describes herself in that time: “rocket scientist by day, warp engineering expert by evening.” It was during that period that she began meeting actors and writers at fan events, which ultimately led to industry connections with executives at CBS, the producer of all things Star Trek.

Macdonald was initially hired to give talks at CBS-sponsored events, including Star Trek Cruises. That led to an introduction with the co-executive producer of Star Trek Discovery, who asked Macdonald to serve as a science advisor for the show as season 3 began production.

“I believe I did a good job on that season, so I think the executives saw value in hiring a science advisor to be available to all of their shows to maintain consistency across the franchise, to understand all of the made-up technologies that we have in Star Trek and to be able to communicate that to the writers as well,” she says. “That’s been going on since 2019, so almost five years now.”

Meanwhile, Macdonald has written four screenplays, and she has done voice acting for Star Trek Prodigy, an animated Star Trek show, during which she had the opportunity to work with Kate Mulgrew, the actress who played Captain Janeway on Star Trek Voyager.

“When I started working on Star Trek Prodigy, they were bringing Captain Janeway back as a teacher for young kids. I was going to help write some of her lines, and that was when I had this huge epiphany of—I’m not meant to become Captain Janeway; I’m meant to write Captain Janeway and create characters that inspire kids to become scientists.”

“When I started working on Star Trek Prodigy, they were bringing Captain Janeway back as a teacher for young kids. I was going to help write some of her lines, and that was when I had this huge epiphany of—I’m not meant to become Captain Janeway; I’m meant to write Captain Janeway and create characters that inspire kids to become scientists,” she says. “And so now, I find that storytelling lets me sort of inspire and motivate the next generation of STEM professionals, and that’s what I want to do as a career.”

Macdonald has found her voice as a storyteller in several different ways. In 2022, she published Star Trek: My First Book of Space, an illustrate children’s board book that uses Star Trek to talk about science, technology, engineering, arts and math (STEAM), and she wrote and narrated the Audible Original “The Science of Sci-Fi” in collaboration with The Great Courses.

Additionally, in 2021, McDonald created Spacetime Productions, a film development and production company devoted to giving representation to traditionally marginalized voices, including those in the LGBTQIA+ community. The company has produced two short films including Identiteaze, released on the streaming service Nebula earlier this summer.

Reflecting on her journey from scientist to educator to storyteller, Macdonald says her success is the result of recognizing good opportunities, trusting her instincts, perseverance and, most importantly, putting in the time and work to achieve her goals.

“You know, I didn’t quit my PhD and move to LA with no plan. I took those important steps in between,” she says. “And it took me until well into my 30s for me to realize what I wanted, to be a storyteller and create those Dana Scullys and Captain Janeways, as opposed to becoming one of those characters. And that’s OK. All of those steps along the way helped inform the work I do now.”

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about astrophysical and planetary sciences? Show your support.

The 2009 math and astrophysics double major has successfully transformed herself from a scientist to an educator to a storyteller sailing with the enterprise known as 'Star Trek.'

Traditional

White

CU alum Stephen Koehler enjoys high-flying career

Rachel Sauer — Wed, 09 Apr 2025 18:14:40 +0000

CU alum Stephen Koehler enjoys high-flying career Rachel Sauer Wed, 04/09/2025 - 12:14

Bradley Worrell

The ROTC cadet and physics major turned naval aviator turned admiral was appointed commander of the U.S. Pacific Fleet in early 2024

��ƷSM��ӰƬ grad Stephen T. Koehler (Phys’86) has a really, really big job.

How big?

It covers an area encompassing 100 million square miles—roughly half the earth’s surface—from Antarctica to the Artic Circle and from the western U.S. coast to the Indian Ocean. The job includes oversight of about 200 ships, 1,500 aircraft and 150,000 military and civilian personnel.

��ƷSM��ӰƬ grad and U.S. Navy Admiral Stephen Koehler (Phys’86) was selected as the commander of the U.S. Pacific Fleet in April 2024, following a succession of leadership positions in the Navy.

Admiral Koehler is the commander of the U.S. Pacific Fleet, a position he assumed in April 2024 after a series of successive leadership positions during his 40-year career in the Navy. He became the 36th commander since Admiral Chester Nimitz assumed command on Dec. 31, 1941, at Pearl Harbor.

Koehler’s ascension to a top leadership post in the Navy is perhaps even more notable given that his initial goal was modest: He wanted to fly jets like his dad, who was a Navy fighter pilot.

“Honestly, I didn’t know I would stay in the Navy this long,” he says. “But from a very young age, I watched my dad go to work to fly airplanes and I just thought he was so cool, and I remember thinking, ‘I want to do what he does.’ My dad loved being a fighter pilot. So, I knew I wanted to fly jets and land them on ships.”

After being commissioned in 1986 through the Naval Reserve Officers’ Training Corps (ROTC) program at ��ƷSM��ӰƬ, Koehler became a naval aviator in 1989 and went on to fly more than 3,900 hours in the F-14 Tomcat and F-18 Hornet, with 600 carrier landings.

Koehler subsequently served in leadership positions that included commanding a fighter squadron, serving as the captain of a nuclear aircraft carrier, commander of a carrier strike group, commander of the U.S. Third Fleet and director for strategy, plans and policy for the Joint Staff in Washington, D.C., which was his last post.

Recently, Koehler spoke with Colorado Arts and Sciences Magazine about how his time at ��ƷSM��ӰƬ helped him prepare for his career in the Navy, what it was like to be a naval aviator and what his job entails as commander of the U.S. Pacific Fleet. His responses have been lightly edited and condensed for space.

Question: Why did you decide to attend ��ƷSM��ӰƬ? And why did you choose to get your degree in physics?

Koehler: The main reason I ended up applying to ��ƷSM��ӰƬ was that the summer before my senior year in high school, I was taking a Greyhound bus around the country, rock climbing with my cousin. We stopped in Boulder for a week and we stayed with this guy who was a friend-of-a-friend type thing. We climbed nearly every day.

One day it rained bad enough we couldn’t climb, so we heard there was a campus in town and we decided maybe we should walk around it. I picked up an application at the UMC (University Memorial Center), where it stayed in my backpack for the rest of the summer. Later, I filled it out and sent it in, and then I got accepted.

I saw CU had a physics major and it had ROTC, so I said, ‘I’ll give it a go.’

Admiral Stephen Koehler (right) with his father, who was also a naval aviator, following the younger Koehler’s commissioning in 1986 during a ceremony held at Old Main on the ��ƷSM��ӰƬ campus.

I knew I wanted to be as competitive as I could going into Navy flight school. And initially, I thought I might want to be a test pilot—and I knew you had to have hard-science capability for that, so that’s why I majored in physics. I was not a natural physics guy, so it was a slog for me, but I did it to keep my options open.

Question: Do you feel like your time at ��ƷSM��ӰƬ helped prepare you for entering the Navy?

Koehler: Yes. Certainly, the ROTC piece provided an understanding of the Navy even beyond what I learned as a child of a Navy parent, and it taught me about leadership.

The physics background proved very beneficial, not only for flight school, but it led to me being selected to be a nuclear-trained officer. There is a technical degree that’s required to do that, and so, yes, my time at CU set me up for that.

Question: When people think of naval aviators, they likely think of the movie Top Gun. What is it like to be a naval aviator in real life?

Koehler: People who watch Top Gun think you are all tan and spend your days playing volleyball at the beach, or they watch Top Gun: Maverick and think you’re all tan and you play football on the beach (laughs). And arguably, I would love to do some of that, but being a carrier-based fighter pilot is about being steeped in professionalism.

Naval aviators train and train so that they make the extremely difficult look easy and routine when it’s not. It takes skill to land a plane on a pitching (ship) deck, day or night, and it takes dedication to be a fighter pilot, to make sure that you are better than the adversary. It’s about having a warrior mindset and making sure you are good at it, because you’ve got to be better than your opponent.

Question: What is your call sign and how did you get it?

Koehler: It’s Web. I won’t go into the whole boring story, but it’s short for Webster’s Dictionary. I received it during a very public display for a lack of spelling prowess (laughs). And I’m actually not a bad speller, but I was on that day.

I wish it (the call sign) was for something cool, like ‘spiderweb,’ or ‘he’s on the web.’ That’s probably half the reason it stuck—because it sounds cool even though it’s not (laughs). …

Now, even at this level, people call me by that name instead of my (given) name. I was sitting in the situation room in the White House in my last job and people would call me Web—not Steve or Admiral Koehler. They would be like, ‘Hey, Web, what do you think about this?’ So, that’s just what ends up happening.

Question: How does one go from being a naval aviator to a command where you are responsible for hundreds of ships and planes and tens of thousands of sailors?

Koehler: So, it’s a process. The first step of it is staying in the Navy and being promoted to the command of a squadron, which is 12 planes and about 250 people. You’re evaluated and then there’s normally two paths after that. You either go the nuclear power route, which means you learn to drive aircraft carriers, or you stay in the air wing and you’re in command of an air wing on a carrier.

The U.S. Pacific Fleet (a portion of which is pictured here) encompasses 100 million square miles from Antarctica to the Arctic circle and from the west coast of the United States into the Indian Ocean. The U.S. Pacific Fleet consists of approximately 200 ships, 1,500 aircraft and 150,000 military and civilian personnel. (Photo: U.S. Navy)

I was chosen to go the nuclear power route, so my physics degree proved useful. I went to nuclear power school and then I was the No. 2 guy on an aircraft carrier, the USS Carl Vinson. I went on to command the USS Bataan, which is an amphibious assault ship, and then I was selected to be the captain of a nuclear aircraft carrier for two and a half years, which was the USS Dwight D. Eisenhower.

Pending your performance and time in service, you may be selected to the rank of rear admiral (or flag rank). If you are not selected, there’s mandatory retirement at 30 years.

I was selected after my command of the aircraft carrier and have progressed through operational and staff command that yielded additional flag rank promotions. There was a decision by Naval leadership at some point to promote me to full admiral and select me to be the Pacific Fleet commander. So, it was a natural progression, and I’m very honored to be here.

Question: Can you share the scope of your duties as Pacific Fleet commander and the role the position plays in the world today?

Koehler: The scope and scale of the Pacific Fleet, of the area I’m responsible for as far as naval interests, is from the coast of California to the west coast of India, and Antarctica to the Arctic. It’s a huge area. …

The Pacific Fleet command is of vital importance to national security, resulting from the economic ties and the commerce that travels on the ocean, for which I am responsible on the Navy side to be ready to respond. There’s just a real importance to the job and there’s a lot of work to do out there. We must continue to improve our position and capability to maintain and ensure the freedom of the seas. The intent is a ‘free and open Indo-Pacific,’ with freedom of commerce, sovereign rights and the ability to sail and operate in accordance with international law, and those things the Pacific Fleet works continuously to provide.

Question: What is the best thing about being Pacific Fleet commander? And what is the most difficult thing?

Koehler: The best thing is having the opportunity to lead all of these sailors. With sailors and civilians, there is on the order of 150,000 of them working toward a common goal, which is to achieve our national objectives. The opportunity to go out and see them and lead them is the best. That also delves into the challenge, which is that it’s a large scale and scope of operations that I oversee. The challenge is to be able to get out and see them as much as I would like and revel in the success they have. They are a pretty amazing group of people who do some outstanding work.

Admiral Stephen Koehler salutes during a 2024 ceremony at Pearl Harbor. (Photo: U.S. Navy)

Question: Do you still get to fly jets?

Koehler: I wish I did. I did get to fly as an admiral when I was the carrier strike group commander and we were on deployment in 2017. I got my last carrier landing in April of 2018.

Flying is a young person’s game. Not that I wouldn’t continue to go flying … but there’s no time to maintain my currency and while it would be fun for me, I’m not sure it would be the best use of my time now.

Question: With your four decades of service in the Navy, are there a few standout moments in your career?

Koehler: That’s a really hard one. First of all, it’s been 40 years, but it doesn’t seem like it. I got to Colorado (as a freshman) in 1982, and it feels like I was just there. …

There are all sorts of things I remember. Taking command of an aircraft carrier, with 3,000 people assigned to it, and with the air wing it’s 5,000 people. That was the first huge command for me, and you have all of these sailors that you get the privilege to lead.

Certainly, the news that I was going to be Pacific Fleet commander was memorable. That was something I would never expect. It’s the honor of a lifetime to do that, and to follow in the footsteps of some amazing people, starting with Admiral Nimitz in World War II.

Another standout thing was being the demonstration pilot for the F-14 at air shows and having the opportunity to fly in front of my family at the Miramar Air Show in 1996. It was an amazing day to fly for my dad that day.

Looking back, there are many memories, and it’s been nothing but a really fun, challenging, rewarding experience. I have been able to enjoy it with my wife, Gina, who’s been with me since college, where we met in 1983 in Boulder in the Baker Hall dorm. She’s been with me the whole time, which has just been amazing.

Question: Anything else you would like to add?

Koehler: Go Buffs!

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about physics? Show your support.

The ROTC cadet and physics major turned naval aviator turned admiral was appointed commander of the U.S. Pacific Fleet in early 2024.

Traditional

White

Top image: Admiral Stephen Koehler (green flight suit) was designated a naval aviator in 1989 and flew more than 3,900 hours in the F-14 Tomcat and F-18 Hornet, with 600 carrier landings.

Dropping perfectionism and embracing purpose and joy

Rachel Sauer — Mon, 07 Apr 2025 15:22:31 +0000

Dropping perfectionism and embracing purpose and joy Rachel Sauer Mon, 04/07/2025 - 09:22

Pam Moore

��ƷSM��ӰƬ alumna Julie Chavez reflects on her new memoir, which chronicles her journey through a mental health crisis to finding a new motto: ‘Be adequate’

When Julie Chavez (Span’00) graduated from the ��ƷSM��ӰƬ with a major in Spanish language and literature, she didn’t see herself becoming an author. As a self-proclaimed “lifelong reader” who blogged for fun, she’d been told many times that she should write a book.

Although flattered, Chavez, who lives in Pleasanton, California, with her husband Mando Chavez, a 1999 ��ƷSM��ӰƬ graduate, and their two sons, was comfortable in her role as a librarian at her sons’ school. And besides, she says, “I didn’t know what I wanted my story to be.”

��ƷSM��ӰƬ alumna Julie Chavez (Span’00) describes learning to advocate for herself and let go of her perfectionist tendencies, embracing the motto “be adequate,” in her memoir Everyone But Myself.

That is, until her story found her.

When anxiety and perfectionism culminated in a debilitating panic attack and a paralyzing sense that she was always falling short no matter how hard she tried, Chavez’s world irrevocably changed.

After navigating many obstacles to accessing mental health services, working with a therapist to put her own proverbial oxygen mask on before tending to her family and finally learning to advocate for herself and let go of her perfectionist tendencies, she emerged with a new motto— “be adequate”—and the idea for the book she needed to write.

Told with humor and honesty, Chavez’s new memoir, Everyone But Myself, released last year and named a Washington Post noteworthy book and a USA Today bestseller, chronicles her journey from the depths of a crushing mental health crisis to a life filled with joy and purpose. Chavez spoke with Colorado Arts and Sciences Magazine to explain the story behind the story.

Question: What motivated you to write Everyone But Myself?

Chavez: I knew that if I was going to write a book, it would have to have value for readers. Even though I loved writing, I didn’t see myself as a fiction writer and I didn’t think I had a story to tell.

But then I had my annual review with my principal. Over the prior year, my mental health had taken a nosedive, and I thanked her for having shared her own struggles with me during that time. Her candor really helped me through what I call my ‘mid-mom crisis’—which I later learned is something that many over-extended working moms struggle with as our elementary grade kids grow into humans who don’t need us intensely as they once did.

She said, ‘That’s what you should write your book about.’ That was when I realized that my story could truly be helpful for someone else.

Question: Who is Everyone But Myself for?

Chavez: I wish it hadn’t taken debilitating anxiety for me to finally understand that my self-care and creating boundaries around my own happiness was not only good, but necessary.

So, I wrote this for all the readers who see themselves in my story. It’s for the perfectionist moms, the anxious moms, the moms who, in trying to do their best for their families, have inadvertently abandoned themselves.

In her memoir Everyone But Myself, ��ƷSM��ӰƬ alumna Julie Chavez chronicles her journey from the depths of a crushing mental health crisis to a life filled with joy and purpose.

It’s also for all the moms who feel they don’t ‘deserve’ help. I love my life and my family so much. I feel grateful that I get to live a relatively comfortable life. And yet, even with all the privilege I’ve been afforded, I was taken aback at how aggressively and how quickly my mental health declined—and how hard it was to find a therapist when I needed one.

We tend to put our suffering on a ‘sliding scale’ or to minimize it by comparing it to other people’s problems but the truth is, when it’s hard, it’s hard, and it’s OK to ask for help.

Question: What challenges did you encounter on the road to publication?

Chavez: The book you have in your hands is my fourth rewrite. I can’t tell you how many times I asked myself whether it was worth it.

I started writing in the spring of 2019 and by the end of the year I had 30,000 words, which I thought was a book. It wasn’t. Then, I attended a class on publishing, where I learned that without a platform, it would be extremely difficult to find a publisher, particularly for a memoir.

So, I started working with a hybrid publisher, who recommended a rewrite. Meanwhile, [publisher] Zibby Owens’ Book Club published an essay of mine, which was an excerpt from the book, which did really well. Zibby ended up taking me on as one of her first acquisitions, and I parted ways with the hybrid publisher.

Following advice from Zibby’s team, I started a fresh rewrite. Instead of a memoir, it was an essay collection, but it just didn’t work. So now, I had an agent and I was starting with a blank page, which is actually kind of backward. Usually you get an agent once you have a fully written manuscript. I finished that version in December of 2022 and the book was published just over two years later.

Through it all, I had to re-learn the same lesson I learned in the pages of my book—that I had to keep showing up, remember my “why,” and not be too attached to the outcome.

Question: What has surprised you over the course of your publishing journey?

Chavez: There’s been a surprising number of women who have said, ‘You are telling my exact story.’ So many have said that after reading my story, they understand what they’re going through, which has been wonderful.

That was always my hope—that my book could be a friend to them and to open the door to the kinds of conversations we need to have.

But my favorite thing is when someone says they’re giving it to a friend or asks me to sign it for their sister.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about Spanish and Portuguese? Show your support.

��ƷSM��ӰƬ alumna Julie Chavez reflects on her new memoir, which chronicles her journey through a mental health crisis to finding a new motto: ‘Be adequate.’

Traditional

White

Discovering Boulder County’s tiniest residents

Rachel Sauer — Mon, 24 Mar 2025 17:10:47 +0000

Discovering Boulder County’s tiniest residents Rachel Sauer Mon, 03/24/2025 - 11:10

Collette Mace

��ƷSM��ӰƬ alum and experienced caver Dave Steinmann recently discovered a new species of pseudoscorpion in Mallory Cave, with a moniker honoring its namesake hometown

When Dave Steinmann (Phys’90) first started classes at the ��ƷSM��ӰƬ in 1984, he had never explored a cave before and never really thought much about caves. However, when his new dorm-mate suggested they try his dad’s favorite hobby of caving, what seemed at first like an adventurous new pastime soon turned into a lifestyle for Steinmann—one that he has continued for more than 30 years and leading to his discovery of almost 100 new cave-dwelling species.

Steinmann, now a research associate with the Denver Museum of Nature & Science’s Zoology Department, most recently discovered a new species of pseudoscorpion named after the city closest to where it was found—none other than CU’s hometown of Boulder. Steinmann said that he knew almost immediately that the critter that is now known as Larca boulderica was a new species.

Dave Steinmann (right) with his son, Nathan (left), and wife, Debbie (center), as they get ready to go caving. (Photo: Dave Steinmann)

When he first spotted it in Mallory Cave, one of Boulder’s most well-known cave systems thanks to its role in bat conservation, he immediately noticed its unique, almost lentil-shaped body and adaptations for cave living, such as its pale color. These specimens were later verified as a new species by Mark Harvey, a pseudoscorpion expert at the Western Australian Museum; Harvey and Steinmann recently published details of the discovery in ZooKeys.

Steinmann notes that it’s typically not difficult to discern when a specimen is a new species, as it happens pretty frequently in the ancient cave systems right below our feet.

“I always say that if I want to discover a new species, I just need to visit a new cave,” he says.

Why are caves such a great place to make new discoveries? The answer lies in their role as a sort of refuge from climate change, Steinmann notes. In caves, insects can hide from the effects of temperature, floral and faunal changes that happen more rapidly in the outside world, facilitating isolated evolutionary changes.

Changing cave life

However, even cave life is changing. Lately, the temperature inside of caves, typically very cold, has been observed to be rising on a minuscule scale. Although this may seem trivial, even a few degrees’ difference can have immeasurable effects on the delicate life structures within the caves.

Similarly, outside temperatures affect which species go in and out of the cave systems, most notably bats. With the recent spike in white-nosed syndrome in bat populations, the number of bats in cave systems has decreased dramatically, with disastrous effects on internal cave species such as Larca boulderica, who survive on organic material—most often wood brought into the cave—and guano (bat fecal matter).

These changes are slow to progress, though, and there is still time to save cave ecosystems like that of Mallory Cave, which is closed to the public to protect the bat population inside (although it’s still possible to hike up to the cave entrance, a pleasant and short hike for anyone hoping to get outside).

So, how did Steinmann spot these teeny tiny bugs who live on bat feces? Well, after more than 30 years of experience, he has some tricks up his sleeve. One of the easiest methods he uses to spot tiny critters is simply by turning over rocks or pieces of wood.

When species like pseudoscorpions are disturbed by the movement or sense the carbon dioxide released by human breathing, they tend to skitter in every direction, looking for a new spot to curl up and revel in the damp darkness. When they move around, according to Steinmann, it’s just a game of whether you can catch them quickly enough.

The newly described pseudoscorpion Larca boulderica is about the size of a sesame seed and is only known to live in Boulder, Colorado. (Photo: Dave Steinmann)

To catch samples, Steinmann usually brings simple tools along with him—a painter’s brush and some rubbing alcohol. When the brush is wetted with the alcohol, it’s easy to run it along a surface and pick up all of the tiny things residing there, including minuscule species of bugs like Larca boulderica.

From there, it’s also easier to see what he’s found, as cave species are usually albino due to the lack of melanin— they don’t need pigmentation when there’s no sunlight—and they stand out against the dark ground and hairs of the paintbrush.

Looking for a gold bug

Despite being at it for multiple decades, Steinmann has no plans to slow down his caving career any time soon. He’s even made it a family pastime, and often spends time caving with his wife, Debbie, and his son, Nathan. He keeps an ongoing list of caves he plans to visit in the future and looks forward to making even more discoveries.

“I’d really like to find some kind of gold-colored bug and name it after the university,” he says, “or maybe even Coach Prime!”

He’s also enthusiastic about getting more students involved in caving, including caver and photographer Andres “Andy” Better, who will be a CU transfer student next fall. Steinmann emphasized how many different opportunities lie in the caving experience and says students of any background could find a niche interest in the hobby.

He also mentions local groups and clubs for both new and experienced cavers, including the Front Range Grotto and the Colorado Grotto, which meets at the Colorado School of Mines. He says that while anyone is welcome in caving, experienced members of the clubs can sometimes be protective of the places they visit, as human disturbances can harm delicate cave ecosystems, and caving as a hobby can be dangerous in a lot of ways.

However, if you’re looking to learn about caving with curiosity and respect, any of these clubs are great ways to get involved in this adventurous and exciting hobby—just be careful not to step in the bat guano because there could be a new species in there!

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about arts and sciences? Show your support.

��ƷSM��ӰƬ alum and experienced caver Dave Steinmann recently discovered a new species of pseudoscorpion in Mallory Cave, with a moniker honoring its namesake hometown.

Traditional

White

Spinning stories of birds, magic and 19th-century science

Rachel Sauer — Mon, 16 Dec 2024 14:30:00 +0000

Spinning stories of birds, magic and 19th-century science Rachel Sauer Mon, 12/16/2024 - 07:30

Cody DeBos

In new novel The Naturalist Society, ��ƷSM��ӰƬ alum Carrie Vaughn offers a fresh take on historical fantasy

For New York Times bestselling author and ��ƷSM��ӰƬ graduate Carrie Vaughn (MEngl’00), the boundary between science and magic is a playground.

Her latest novel, The Naturalist Society, released last month, transports readers to an alternate Victorian era in which scientific discovery and arcane magic coexist. Here, the Latin binomial nomenclature used to classify plants and animals grants extraordinary powers to certain scientists.

The novel is a departure from Vaughn’s usual urban fantasy or mystery settings, for which she's been nominated several times for the Hugo Award and won the 2017 Colorado Book Award in the genre fiction category. She recalls a friend joking, “Hey, you like birds, you should write a book about them!”

In her new novel The Naturalist Society, Carrie Vaughn (MEngl’00) explores an alternate Victorian era in which scientific discovery and arcane magic coexist.

From that comment, she spun a tale blending 19th-century Victorian science and a distinctive magic system—with a splash of romance added for good measure.

“I tend to do this a lot, take several different ideas and smoosh them together to see what happens,” Vaughn says. “The story developed pretty quickly and went in some unexpected directions. It’s not just historical fantasy, but also alternate history.”

When research meets imagination

Creating an immersive world for the protagonist of The Naturalist Society to traverse was more than a work of imagination. Vaughn immersed herself in research while preparing to write the novel.

“I read a bunch of history of the natural sciences, about Darwin and the impact of his ideas,” she says. “And I kept my Sibley Field Guide to Birds on my desk the whole time.”

Vaughn also drew inspiration from Victorian-era literature.

“I read some Edith Wharton to get that flavor of upper-class New York City in the late 19th century,” she says.

As any writer can understand, Vaughn’s work on The Naturalist Society didn’t come without challenges. Stepping away from her familiar urban fantasy worlds—she reached the New York Times Bestseller list with her long-running novel series about Kitty Norville, a Denver DJ who is also a werewolf—to tackle a historical setting took Vaughn on a lengthy fact-finding journey.

Despite completing extensive research, Vaughn admits the process felt never-ending. “As much research as I do, it never feels like quite enough. It’s impossible to be completely thorough.

“Using a concrete historical setting means I’m very aware of all the possible mistakes I could make. I’m waiting for readers to start emailing me about what I got wrong,” she jokes.

Still, Vaughn considers these trials part of the creative process. She strives to remain open to all ideas and let her stories evolve naturally—a tricky balance to strike while keeping The Naturalist Society grounded in history.

The Naturalist Society is a departure from the urban fantasy and murder mystery genres in which Carrie Vaughn has widely written.

Embracing the unexpected

For Vaughn, The Naturalist Society is more than just her latest novel; it’s part of a larger journey as a writer. Throughout her career, Vaughn has written more than 20 novels and 100 short stories spanning every genre from urban fantasy to murder mystery.

“I’m always looking for new stories to tell,” she says. “I go where the stories tell me to go. I like the challenge of trying new genres and tropes.”

Vaughn’s exploratory approach to storytelling is rooted in experimentation. She says she enjoys the surprising outcomes that emerge after taking time to reconnoiter new settings or blur the lines between genres.

This approach helps The Naturalist Society exist as a historical fantasy novel while also transcending the conventions of the genre.

From ��ƷSM��ӰƬ to a career of discovery

Vaughn’s ability to weave complex stories is no accident. She credits her time at ��ƷSM��ӰƬ for giving her a firm foundation in her craft.

“I need to give a big shout out to Professor Kelly Hurley,” Vaughn says. “Her seminars on Victorian and Gothic literature have stayed with me.”

She says these classes, among others, helped shape her understanding of storytelling. Time spent reading and discussing books and literature during her degree studies also played a pivotal role in Vaughn’s career.

“If I can write across genres and settings, it’s because I’ve read across genres and settings,” she explains. “I go back to Professor Hurley’s ideas and reading lists all the time. She helped fill a well that I’m still drawing on.”

Advice for writers

Every aspiring writer’s journey is unique, Vaughn says, and her experiences emphasize the value of exploration and risk-taking. Her advice to writers looking to try new genres or settings?

“Read widely! Look for inspiration in unlikely places.”

She also encourages writers to embrace bold ideas and trust their instincts.

“When I’m working on an idea and find myself thinking, ‘This is crazy, people will never go for this,’ I know I’m on the right track,” she says.

With The Naturalist Society, Vaughn has unlocked yet another creative direction for her work, but her latest novel is just the beginning of her foray into historical fantasy. She’s already working on a sequel and aims to build further on the world she created.

Learn more about Carrie Vaughn and The Naturalist Society on her website.

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about English? Show your support.

In new novel The Naturalist Society, ��ƷSM��ӰƬ alum Carrie Vaughn offers a fresh take on historical fantasy.

Traditional

White

Veteran sees Vietnam the country beyond the war

Anonymous — Fri, 25 Oct 2024 17:30:37 +0000

Veteran sees Vietnam the country beyond the war Anonymous (not verified) Fri, 10/25/2024 - 11:30

Rachel Sauer

��ƷSM��ӰƬ alum and regent emeritus Peter Steinhauer shares Vietnam experiences with students, to be featured in the in-progress documentary Welcome Home Daddy

Peter Steinhauer joined the U.S. Navy because that’s what young men of his generation did.

“I was brought up to finish high school, go to college, join a fraternity, get married, spend two years in the military, then work the rest of my life,” he explains. “Of everybody I went to high school with in Golden, most of the boys went in (the military).”

So, after graduating the ��ƷSM��ӰƬ in 1958—where he met his wife, Juli, a voice major—he attended dental school in Missouri, then completed a face and jaw surgical residency, finishing in 1965. And then he joined the Navy.

Peter Steinhauer (left) and Steven Dike (right) after Steinhauer's presentation during the Oct. 18 class of The Vietnam Wars, which Dike teaches.

He had two young daughters and a son on the way, and he learned two weeks after being stationed at Camp Pendleton that he’d be shipping to Vietnam, where he served from 1966-67.

“How many of your grandparents served in Vietnam?” Steinhauer asks the students seated in desks rimming the perimeter of the classroom, and several raise their hands. Steinhauer has given this presentation to this class, The Vietnam Wars, for enough years that it’s now the grandchildren of his fellow veterans with whom he shares his experiences of war.

Even though Steinhauer had given the presentation before, the Oct. 18 session of The Vietnam Wars, for students in the Honors Residential Academic Program (HRAP), was different: It was filmed as part of the in-progress documentary Welcome Home Daddy, which chronicles Steinhauer’s experiences during and after the war and his deep love for the country and people of Vietnam.

“Pete told me once that he dreams about Vietnam all the time, but they’re not nightmares,” says Steven Dike, associate director of the HRAP and assistant teaching professor of history, who teaches The Vietnam Wars. “He’s spent his life as a healer and an educator, and I think one of the values (for students) is hearing how his experiences in the war informed his life after it.”

‘An old guy there’

Steinhauer, a retired oral surgeon and CU regent emeritus, served a yearlong tour with the 3rd Marine Division, 3rd Medical Battalion in Da Nang, Vietnam. Lt. Cmdr. Steinhauer was a buzz-cut 30-year-old—“an old guy there,” he tells the students—with a Kodak Instamatic camera.

He provided dental care and oral surgery to U.S. servicemen and servicewomen as well as Vietnamese people, and he took pictures—of the rice paddies and jungles, of the people he met, of the nameless details of daily life that were like nothing he’d experienced before.

“This was the crapper,” Steinhauer tells the students, explaining a photo showing a square, metal-sided building with a flat, angled roof. “There were four seats in there and no dividers, so you were just sitting with the guy next to you.”

When the electricity went out, he and his colleagues worked outside. When helicopters came in with the wounded, it was all hands on deck.

Left image: Pvt. Raymond Escalera holds the since-deactivated grenade that Peter Steinhauer (to Escalera's left) removed live from his neck, in a photo that made the front page of The Seattle Times; right image: Peter and Juli Steinhauer (on right) visit Raymond Escalera (white shirt) and his wife in California.

“They’d be brought off the helicopter and taken to the triage area,” Steinhauer says, the photo at the front of the classroom showing the organized chaos of it. “A lot of life-and-death decisions were made there, catheters and IVs were started there. The triage area is a wonderful part of military medicine.”

Steinhauer also documented the casualties, whose starkness the intervening years have done nothing to dim. One of his responsibilities was performing dental identification of bodies, “one of the hardest things I did,” he says.

Then there was Dec. 21, 1966: “A guy came in—it was pouring rain, and we had mass casualties—and he came in with trouble breathing,” Steinhauer recalls. “We discovered he had an unexploded M79 rifle grenade in his neck. We got it out, but a corpsman said, ‘Doc, you better be careful with that, it can go boom.’”

Not only did Marine Pvt. Raymond Escalera survive a live grenade in his neck, but about 12 years ago Steinhauer tracked him down and visited him at his home in Pico Rivera, California. “We call four or five times a year now,” Steinhauer says.

Building relationships

Steinhauer and his colleagues also treated Vietnamese civilians. “One of the most fun parts of my year there was being able to perform 60 or 70 cleft lip surgeries,” Steinhauer tells the students, showing before and after photos.

Peter Steinhauer (left) and medical colleagues in Vietnam, with whom he worked during many of his 26 visits to Vietnam since the end of the war.

He then shows them a photo of the so-called “McNamara Line” between North and South Vietnam—a defoliated slash of brown and gray that looks like a wound that will never heal.

Healing, however, has happened, and continues to. “I was blessed by the ability to go back to a place where so many horrible things happened during the war and make something beautiful of it,” Steinhauer says.

In the years since he returned from war—and met his almost-one-year-old son for the first time—Steinhauer has gone back to Vietnam more than two dozen times. Acknowledging that his experience is not all veterans’ experience, he says he has been blessed to learn about Vietnam as a country and not just a war.

“How veterans dealt with the war, how they’re still coming to terms with it as we’re getting further away from it, are really important issues,” says Mark Gould, director and a producer of Welcome Home Daddy. “It’s not just a war that we quote-unquote lost, but it was the most confusing war the United States has ever fought. We never had closure, but that didn’t stop Dr. Steinhauer from reaching out. Our tagline is ‘Governments wage war, people make peace,’ and that’s what he stands for.”

The idea for the documentary originated with Steinhauer’s daughter, Terrianne, who grew up not only hearing his stories but visiting the country with him and her mom. She and Gould served in the CalArts alumni association together, and several years ago she pitched him the idea for Welcome Home Daddy, which they are making in partnership with producer Rick Hocutt.

Peter Steinhauer with his children upon his return home after serving in the Vietnam War; the "Welcome home daddy" message inspired the title of the documentary currently being made about Steinhauer's experiences during and after the war.

The documentary will weave Steinhauer’s stories with those of other veterans and highlight the relationships that Steinhauer has built over decades—through partnering with medical professionals in Vietnam and volunteering his services there, through supporting Vietnamese students who study in the United States, through facilitating education and in-person visits between U.S. and Vietnamese doctors and nurses. At the same time, Juli Steinhauer has grown relationships with musicians and other artists in Vietnam. Both parents passed a love for Vietnam to their children.

An ugly war, a beautiful country

The stories of Vietnam could fill volumes. In fact, Steinhauer attended a 10-week course called Tell Your Story: A Writing Workshop for Those Who Have Served in the Military in 2008—offered through the Program for Writing and Rhetoric and the Division of Continuing Education—and wrote Remembering Vietnam 1966-67, a collection of his memories and photographs of the war that he published privately and gives to family, friends and colleagues.

About 10 years ago, Steinhauer asked to audit The Vietnam Wars—“wars” is plural because “we can’t understand the American war without understanding the French war,” Dike explains—in what was only the second time Dike had taught it.

“So, I was a little nervous,” Dike remembers with a laugh, “but he comes in and is just the nicest guy in the world. I asked if he’d be interested in sharing his experiences, and he’s given his presentation during the semester every class since.”

In the Oct. 18 class, Steinhauer shares stories of bamboo vipers in the dental clinic, of perforating vs. penetrating wounds, of meeting baseball legends Brooks Robinson and Stan Musial when they visited the troops, of a since-faded Vietnamese tradition of women dyeing their teeth black as a symbol of beauty.

“It was an ugly war, but it’s a beautiful country,” Steinhauer says. “Just a beautiful country.”

Did you enjoy this article? Subscribe to our newsletter. Passionate about history? Show your support.

��ƷSM��ӰƬ alum and regent emeritus Peter Steinhauer shares Vietnam experiences with students, to be featured in the in-progress documentary Welcome Home Daddy.

Traditional

White

Alumni

Family shares courtroom and campus legacy

Related Articles

Alum’s resumé: veterinarian, reality TV star, stand-up comic

Related Articles

Alum thinks about crime the write way

Related Articles

Degree finally in hand, dancer leaps back onto Boulder stage

Related Articles

CU grad Erin Macdonald makes it so

Related Articles

CU alum Stephen Koehler enjoys high-flying career

Related Articles

Dropping perfectionism and embracing purpose and joy

Related Articles

Discovering Boulder County’s tiniest residents

Related Articles

Spinning stories of birds, magic and 19th-century science

Related Articles

Veteran sees Vietnam the country beyond the war

Related Articles