Submitted by Greg Conrad, ’17
June 30, 2016
Over the past two months, my business partner Mason Pulde and I have worked diligently in getting our program off the ground. We have reached out to over 50 families, contacted numerous professionals, and spoke with various collegiate players that we felt could serve as potential mentors. As an organization, we have officially made New England Core a DBA, established a social media presence, hired new staff, purchased jerseys, adjusted our pricing/curriculum, finalized our insurance policies, and received agreements from NCAA liaisons to continue our project.
Since May, we have made tremendous growth as a program and really got our legs under us. Our professional team added four new members including a strength and conditioning coach, a nutritionist, a spacial awareness specialist, and a secondary school consultant. Our summer mentor team added six new collegiate players including players in leadership roles at Dartmouth, Brown, Bowdoin, Boston University, Babson, and UMass Dartmouth.
Right now, the Core is heading into the closing weeks of recruiting before starting our first tournament between July 29th-31st. Families have shown tremendous interest in our program and our three-day curriculum has improved remarkably. We have gotten great feedback from coaches in the area and can’t wait to take the ice in less then a month. We have also been thinking about getting sponsorships (an organic protein company) for t-shirts and other gear for our players and teaming up with a non-profit to assist us in our mission. Unfortunately, we were not ready for the July 9th tournament, but we feel as though we are now prepared to really make an impact in player’s lives at the end of this month.
Greg is a hockey player, Psychology major and Sociology minor at Middlebury. With his 2016 MiddChallenge grant, Greg co-founded New England Core, in his words, “a hockey tournament team for middle school aged kids, that uses the power of mentorship to both inspire youth and create a team culture that promotes leadership, personal growth, and player development on the ice and beyond.”
Naomi is a rising junior at Middlebury College currently interning in Morocco with theAnou.com, a fair trade web-based platform that connects Moroccan artisans with larger market spaces. The following is an excerpt from her blog about her experience.
“I felt like I was praying with my feet.”
– Abraham Joshua Heschel 1965
The houses are empty. Neatly organized rows of tagines line the balcony across the way. David beach, a quiet suburb south of Rabat is full of summer homes, and summer is just beginning. Hibiscus, tea, round wheat bread, and the smell of the ocean, this journey has begun.
I arrived in Morocco yesterday, where I will be for the next ten weeks working with a company called Anou that connects Moroccan artisans to larger market places at fair trade prices via their online website. (theAnou.com)
I learn at dinner on my plastic chair around a small wooden table pulled into the center of the kitchen of the different languages spoken even within this villa that we live and work in together. Berber, a language of the Atlas Mountains, and Derisha, the Moroccan dialect of Arabic
Across the table is a young Moroccan woman, clad in a long bright pink dress, smiling at me, though few words are mutually intelligible between the two of us. She is an artisan leader, working at the Anou headquarters. A weaver by trade, but now also performing administrative work for the collaborative. Tzadik in derisha, Moroccan dialect Arabic means “friend.” In Hebrew, Tzadik means “righteous,” or “righteous person,” I like the slightly warped interpretation from one language to the next.
Jinny, the professional fellow also working with Anou teaches me the word “Jugaad,” an Indian word that tells us to “figure it out” with whatever you have. The water pipes went out today, the first day of Ramadan, and she filled up a bucket of water and lugged it up the stairs to the bathroom. This is jugaad, she says. After a run I slosh the water up the stairs to the second floor, using a smaller bucket to risk out my hair and clean my face.
I feel like I am talking, though I know I am not. Surrounded by words I don’t understand, I realize that most of the conversation is occurring only within myself. This inner companion that I have is one I have not spent much time speaking to in the past few months. This will be a long conversation – one I must get used to. Just like the bucket baths and the sticky smell of salt coming from the ocean, like the wooden table and the call to prayer at the first ray of daylight.
I intend on praying with my feet for the next few months, though I will admit I do not know yet what that will mean. Tomorrow we leave for the high Atlas mountains. My guess is that I shall find out very soon.
By Grant Olcott
CSE fellow Sarah James gave a fascinating exposition of her study of poetry. Through eloquent exchanges with Melissa Hamerly, Sarah expressed the personal meaning she’s found in books. She identified connection, whether between friends or poems, as a significant theme in her life. To Sarah, discovering connection — this fifth dimension — represents the true essence of learning. Indeed, this talk shows how ideas studied in the classroom extend far beyond the final exam. A liberal arts education allows students to connect personally with their coursework by intermixing the material with their personalities.
Words, what she occupies herself with everyday, were a core part of her reflection. Language tries to capture all parts of life. However, some elusive ideas escape such confines. One of Sarah’s professors illustrated this mysterious fact by explaining the word “like.” If one thing is like another, it is similar but also different. This sometimes overlooked implication ties well into Sarah’s discussion of connection. Everything is connected, but yet separated by some unmeasurable distance.
The word “humanities” expresses the significance of connection. Linguistically, it refers to the study of the works of humans. By studying literature, one can indeed learn precious life lessons gleaned from all kinds of experiences. Grounding beliefs in literature provides greater depth and allows one to express those ideas that live outside the reach of language. Sarah’s thoughts on life seemed to have page references; she illustrated her opinions on campus issues by quoting the ideas of Wordsworth and Ta-Nehisi Coates.
In order to be a successful changemaker, one must read. Sarah shows how reading plugs one into the power grid of emotional energy captured by the brightest minds. Admiring the beauty of ideas in poetry allows Sarah to stay emotionally on task and understand the complex situations people in the world experience. As the only CSE fellow majoring in the humanities, Sarah represents the benefit literature can offer innovation in a world of interconnectedness.
April 22, 2016
By Grant Olcott
In his talk, Debanjan quoted poet Marianne Williamson who said, “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.” Indeed, Debanjan focused on access: people need support in order to overcome their fear of being unstoppable. They need guidance to find their light. As a teacher and activist, Debanjan hopes to help keep education open and accessible. Personally, he wants to achieve this task, while being remembered for his light, laughter, and fire.
Debanjan believes everyone has his or her own place and path in the world. Finding the specific way that one fits into the jigsaw puzzle of life is why education is so important. Perhaps recognizing that one has the power to decide which part of that puzzle to contribute to invokes a certain fear. Individuals can overcome it, and Debanjan wants to dedicate his life to helping them do so.
While working with Chicago teens, Debanjan witnessed the incredible difference that lending support to talented children can bring. This experience bridged the ideas of individual power and the importance of access. By working with teens, he gave them the confidence to access their rap skills and set them on their path to success and self-discovery. He saw how important access to mentorship was. As a teacher and activist, he hopes to always support the light of others at the times they need it the most.
Mentoring teens is one way Debanjan hopes to apply Williamson’s words to his life work. What will always matter to him is making sure doors are open. As long as he ensures it, people will find what they love and life’s puzzle will become less terrifying. They will become unstoppable.
Blogpost Reflection Friday April 8, 2016
When Professor Nadia Horning finds out she’s on the CSE blog, she might feel embarrassed. To post her reflection Friday — which criticized productivity and achievement — is rather ironic. Although this blog inherently promotes Nadia by publishing her thoughts, it also achieves what she identified as her goal: “to enable young minds to find their purpose and to think and rethink the world they live in.”
What matters to Nadia is serving others. She left Madagascar to receive an education so that she could help change her country and continent. During her time abroad, she found a new home in academia and realized teaching was the most effective way to help Africa. Her reflections focused on college: the vehicle by which she makes change. Her ideas on student life and accomplishment constantly point to the CSE’s mantra “what matters to you and why”
Nadia introduced the topic of college life by talking about students’ big goals and the rigor they put themselves through to achieve them. Society’s flawed measurements of self-worth (the accumulation of awards and material things) detract from the experience of learning. They trick people into worshiping productivity. They blind good intentioned and disciplined students into believing that the more they do, the better they are. They make college a means to end.
Oftentimes, students end up sacrificing what’s important to them to “play the game.” They rack up handfuls of extracurriculars and achievements not for themselves, but their Linkedin Profiles. This conflict of quality versus quantity transforms into its cousin dilemma, appearance versus reality. Students stuff their resumes fuller and fuller, while they feel emptier and emptier inside.
Nadia doesn’t see all of this as purely negative. She also saw her education as a means to achieving her goals for Africa. However, in order to put a positive spin on this monotonous grind, a student needs to be three things: keen, prepared, and ready.
Keenness comes naturally to many students. They want to do the best with the opportunities they have. They want to get out and make a change, therefore they need to go through the process of preparing themselves. However, they also must realize when they are ready to focus on the one thing that matters to them most.
One of Nadia’s goals as a professor is to help students find that drive. She encourages debates and broad, self-aware thinking. She designs each lecture as a spark for a debate to blow up, leave the classroom, and resettle at Proctor.
The way society sets up life as a race makes finding meaning more of a challenge. Thus, the question Nadia poses to the Middlebury community is, what do you propose to do to change that?
Reflection Friday 3/18
During the semester’s second Reflection Friday, CSE Fellow Gabby Fuentes ’16, led the community on a genuine and intimate tour of the thoughts she ponders daily. “What matters to me and why? Me,” she responded.
In allowing herself to toy with the narcissism taboo, she emphasized the importance of the self, to the individual and also to the community. Through her explorations and abstractions, important moments and dreams, she gave the community three powerful principles to reflect on.
- Compartmentalization. Working on obligation-to-obligation requires one to repress various emotional, spiritual, and personal aspects of the self. While this requires a great amount of drive and selflessness to sustain, it is a learned behavior. One must not overlook the hidden cost: personal health and wellbeing. She quoted the saying, “You can’t give others a drink if your cup is empty” to highlight this point.
Rather than focusing on this idea as something to fix and change, she merely urged everyone to be aware of it. In what spaces is there this pressure to compartmentalize a side of oneself? She believes community reflection should start with this question. Whether it is a student who can’t make a faculty member’s office hours due to problems at home, or one who feels out of place in the social scene, this question can help create a more understanding community. The self does not exist in a vacuum.
- Difference. Acknowledging and respecting the external and internal differences between people and the sides of the self leads to a more respectful community. Being okay with difference is the goal. To understand internal difference, one should not label difference sides of oneself as fake. Different people and places give off different energy.
- Inclusivity. This principle brings the other two together. Inclusivity means acknowledging other people for who they are. In an inclusive community, one does not ask people who are different to compartmentalize and repress parts of themselves. Inclusivity is achieved when the community recognizes compartmentalization and appreciates difference.
Gaby painted a personal picture of her experience coming to Middlebury as a Posse Scholar. By verbalizing all her ideas, she highlighted several of the dilemmas college communities face today. Although she apologized in a self-aware way for making too many abstractions, all her thoughts provide a clear solution to fostering an inclusive community: develop awareness for compartmentalization of the self and difference.
Mohamed Hussein ’17 is a CSE fellow who spent a month in Cuba as part of his Ambassador Corps assignment.
As part of Ambassador Corps’s (AC) first cohort, I had the pleasure of conducting a month-long research project on social entrepreneurship in Cuba. From the very first day, the island taught me to reconsider my assumptions and keep them in check. After a two-hour delay in the flight, I arrived in Havana at 4:00 pm and had to wait for more than three full hours before the luggage had arrived. This incident highlighted the polychronic nature of Cuban culture; time here is slow and thick, like viscid honey pouring down sulkily from an unattended jar.
Even before I arrived, the culture started humbling me in unexpected ways. While waiting in line for my flight, the woman ahead of me in line called my attention to the fact that I was the only person whose baggage was not wrapped in plastic. I asked why such wrapping was necessary. She laughed, explaining how, otherwise, some of my personal belongings might get ‘lost’ on their way to Havana. This showed me that the existing social capital is minimal between inhabitants of the island and their expat counterparts on the mainland.
The third initial lesson was my over-dependency on the internet and electronics. Since internet costs $10 an hour, I have kept my use to a minimum. It was quite hard to not know what is happening in the rest of the world and have very limited and little access to information. At first it was stressful; later, it just was.
After one week of living in Havana, I calmed down after my initial ‘spasmodic’ reaction. The city grew on me with its chaos and crowded buses that cost 5 cents. There is something oddly trancing about the feeling of solidarity aroused by melding into a desolate background with hundreds of people going about their lives. To a passerby, I was just another Cuban. This visual reality eased my life, encouraging strangers on the streets to open up to me, albeit my foreignness. These encounters allowed me to draw a more detailed image of Havana and life under a socialist regime. The stories I gathered interweave to form an intricate canvas that makes no sense. I see contradictions everywhere.
During the third week, my know-all attitude got me sick. Thinking that I would save money, I bought ingredients from local markets and started cooking. An eggplant, some chicken, onions, and carrots—nothing too fancy. The vegetables and fruits were 100% chemical-free (by product of necessity than environmentalism but that’s beside the point) so they tasted fresh. With these simple ingredients, I started making an Egyptian dish that I have perfected over the years. I ate to my heart’s content but got quite ill that night.
You see, even though the vegetables looked the same, they were variations of the same species, which changed some of their essential characteristics. The eggplant, for example, was too absorbent of the oil in which it was fried and the chicken’s muscular tissue needed longer to be cooked. My impulse to apply my culinary knowledge to a different context without adapting has resulted in a failure that harmed me. Instead, I gave money to my host mother, who prepared delicious food for me within a tight budget.
This incident has made me realize that the future of development for Cuba may have a very similar reality. Like me, idealistic international organizations may come in, ready to apply their skills and knowledge. They will want to get their hands dirty and do things themselves, distrusting the Cuban governmental agencies and existing structures. A better approach would be to find their ‘host mother,’ a local structure that do more than counsel them on culture. Cubans do not need skills and knowledge—their biggest asset is their human capital, since the government spends more than 10% of GDP on education, compared to US’s 5.2%. The island is in need of material support, the money to buy the ingredients that makes sense to them and their context, more than anything.
The CSE Friday Speaker Series: Eric Archambeau
May 1, 2015 | by Otto Nagengast ’17
Before getting into social entrepreneurship, Eric Archambeau spent over 20 years working in technology. After finishing his studies in Engineering and Computer Science, Eric got his start by working on product design and manufacturing, a move that he recommends to anyone starting out in any field. He later launched numerous ventures, before moving into investing in 2000. Eric is currently a General Partner at Wellington Partners, a pan-European venture capital firm with around 800 million Euros under management.
Eric has also long worked in social entrepreneurship. In fact, his work with Social Impact International, which he co-founded in 2003, played a role in the coining of the very term social entrepreneurship. On Friday, Eric talked about two of his latest projects.
In 2010, Eric co-founded Quadia and is currently chairman of the company. Quadia is an impact investing firm with around 100 million USD in assets. Although still a small firm, Quadia is growing rapidly, and Eric hopes that they will be significant player in the next five years.
At the heart of their investment strategy is to seek out companies that have abandoned all-together the corporate social responsibility approach to social impact and instead have made social responsibility part of their core business model. Many companies make profits their only criteria for success, and to mitigate, to some extent, any negative externalities of their operations, they devote some money to projects that have positive social impact. But Quadia is seeking out firms that have positive social impact in their DNA. And while many impact investing firms gravitate toward investing in developing countries, Quadia also aggressively seeks out opportunities in developed countries.
Eric says that a major constraint for market growth of impact investing firms is impact measurement. How do you quantify the positive social change of investments? Eric explained how before the Great Depression, there was no common accounting system. This made it difficult, if not impossible, for investors to compare companies. The field of impact investing faces a similar obstacle today. Eric says that “measuring impact is the synthesis of many small parts,” which makes constructing a reliable metric a challenge. Quadia employs three full-time analysts that work to build the company’s multi-dimensional impact metric. This enables them to track companies’ progress in terms of impact and to compare impact across companies.
Eric also serves as the Global Chairman of the Jamie Oliver Food Foundation. Eric met Jamie Oliver, the celebrity chef and food activist, at TED 2010. He was struck by the passion and vision that Jamie shared in his TED talk, and afterwards Eric approach him. He asked Jamie if the supply chain of his 80-plus restaurants adhered to the same principles of ethical food sourcing he advocated for in his talk. Jamie didn’t know. A few weeks later, Jamie got back to Eric, after speaking with the chefs and managers of his restaurants, and told him, no—his restaurants did not live up to the standards he preached. He asked Eric to help him change that.
As Global Chairman of the Jamie Oliver Food Foundation, Eric is not only leading the philanthropic arm of the Jamie Oliver Group, Jamie’s for-profit company, but he is also helping the company to put strict ethical standards in place. Soon, all of the seven million meals served at Jamie’s restaurants will be made with food that was sourced adhering to Jamie Oliver’s Food Standards. Because of this transition, the Jamie Oliver Group will soon be an “impact-grade” company for impact investors. And Eric is optimistic that the Jamie Oliver Group could even become one of the first European companies to become B-Corps certified.
Over the past couple of years, there has been a sea change in impact investing. Before, companies couldn’t talk about impact without other companies looking at them like they were crazy. Now, it’s becoming increasingly normal for businesses to talk about impact. Eric said that Quadia does not have to go look for clients; the clients come to them. This is a heartening sign that impact investing is entering the mainstream in the investment world. With his experience in social entrepreneurship and investing, Eric will continue to lead the push among businesses to make positive social impact not just a public relations tool but a fundamental component of their business model.
The CSE Friday Speaker Series: Robin Pendoley, Founder & CEO of Thinking Beyond Borders
by Otto Nagengast ’17 | April 24, 2015
In his junior year at UCLA, Robin Pendoley travelled to Bolivia on a study abroad program centered around development. He had long been exploring questions relating to development, privilege, and the obligation to serve. This exploration, however, had been solitary. But in Bolivia, surrounded by the twenty-two other participants on his trip, Robin finally had a space in which he could share with others in exploring these challenging questions. “I finally found my tribe,” Robin says.
During the semester, the group travelled to Lake Titicaca, which straddles the border between Bolivia and Peru. They chartered a small boat and went to Isla del Sol, an island that lies in the middle of the lake. On the island, there is a small, natural spring that the Incas believed that everyone Incan should visit because it is the source of all life. When the group arrived at the spring, Robin sat down, pulled out his journal and began to reflect. Over 100 million Incas had lived across what is today Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, and Chile. Just one hundred years after the Conquistadors arrived, the Incas numbered less than ten million. He had come thousands of miles to the mecca of an ancient civilization that was all but wiped out after the arrival of Europeans. In this moment of profound reckoning of past and present, Robin heard his group mates swimming and splashing around down in the lake. The juxtaposition of their attitudes deeply troubled Robin.
For the next three days, he buried himself in his journal and dwelled upon what happened on Isla del Sol. When the group arrived back in Potosí, they had to present on their trip to Lake Titicaca. In the middle of the presentations, Robin could not bear it any longer. He ran out of the hotel and through the streets. He ended up sitting on a stoop, head in his hands, sobbing. He had found his tribe of people, a community in which he thought he could find some answers to the questions that had troubled him for so long, only to lose this community. Any answers he felt like he had found in the past months all vanished. He was back to square one in his journey.
At the end of his undergraduate years, during which he majored in International Development Studies, Robin’s advisor and director of the International Development program at UCLA gave him a book, The Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paulo Freire. Robin says that the book taught him that society is like a net that we sit on. We can question some assumptions of our society, and undo some lengths of the net, but it remains intact. But once we question enough assumptions, the net is undone, we feel through, and we experience a social death. Robin realized that his moment on the stoop in Potosí was his “grieving of his own social death.” He realized that pretending that he had the answers was not a privilege he was comfortable having.
Years later, Robin watched on television as two planes crash into the twin towers on September 11. He went to his local bookstore in Eugene, Oregon and left with 2,500 pages of reading on “great agents of change,” like Ghandi and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
A few years later, Robin co-founded Thinking Beyond Borders. Thinking Beyond Borders (TBB) is in many ways a culmination of Robin’s long personal journey toward finding his place in the global society. TBB runs semester and year-long exchange programs for gap-year students. Students spend every five-weeks in a different country; TBB has programs in Bolivia, Peru, Ecuador, Cambodia, Thailand, India, and South Africa. At the end of the program, students spend time in Washington, D.C. with development policymakers on Capital Hill and at the World Bank and the IMF.
At Thinking Beyond Borders (TBB), they embrace Dr. King’s belief that “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice,” and they believe that it bends because there are people who bend it. There will always be people with good skills and good intentions, says Robin, but he thinks that “Do-gooders aren’t very good at doing good.” The reason is that they lack the right balance of love and intellect. Too much love results in entrenched support for one group of people and blindness for other perspectives. Too much intellect results in the abstraction and dehumanization of people.
To accomplish this, TBB aims to build Higher Order Empathy Capacity among their students. This enables students to see the value in connecting with everyone, even enemies, on a common, human level. Students realize that they don’t have the answers to everything, but they can have lots of questions and humility enables them to explore the questions with others.
Robin is emphatic that TBB is “not a volunteer or a service organization.” TBB is an education organization. Students are expected to humbly embed themselves in a different context, not in the hopes of improving the place but of improving themselves.
Since its inception seven years ago, TBB has 164 alumni, and it is growing each year. Last year, 34 students were part of the full-year program, and 20 were part of the semester programs. But Robin says that at TBB they “believe in the scope of the impact, not the scale of impact.”
As TBB grows, Robin says that he has to learn something new everyday. For Robin, TBB is part of a greater project of bending the moral arc of the universe, and his personal part in that project is intertwined with TBB. His role, he has found, is helping others to find theirs.
The MCSE Friday Speaker Series: Chris Howell ’04.5, Founder, Vermont Farm Tours
by Otto Nagengast ’17
Chris Howell’s work in Vermont agriculture began when he was a student at Middlebury. During his time here he was involved with the college’s organic farm, and he helped it to grow into the integral part of campus, and our community, that it is today. After graduating in February 2004, Chris and his father founded a five-acre farm in New Hampshire. Chris says, with a chuckle, that it was an adjustment going from Midd where he could spend three hours in the dining hall with friends eating dinner to sharing parsnips with his dad on the farm each night.
Chris’ interest in agriculture eventually took him abroad, and through World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms (WWOOF), he “WWOOFed” in France, Spain, and Italy. In Italy, Chris worked with a cheese-maker who was famous in northern Italy. The man, Chris says, “was so connected” to the cheese that he crafted. The cheese also connected the man to his town, which in northern Italy became synonymous with excellent cheese. In Italy, Chris came to more fully appreciate that food can deeply connect people to a place.
After brief stints as a carpenter and a logger, Chris launched Vermont Farm Tours in 2009. The company offers a range of trips, from vineyards to maple sugarhouses to artisan cheese makers, all in Vermont. Edible Green Mountains Magazine says: “There is no one better qualified to take you behind the scenes to experience the story and flavor of our unique culinary landscape than the charismatic owner of Vermont Farm Tours, Chris Howell.” Chris says that his clients are after “a cool Vermont experience.” He builds his trips on personal connections with farmers, some of which he made during his time at Middlebury. This personal touch requires a lot of planning, but it sets his trips apart from the rest. “From a business standpoint,” Chris says, “it’s a terrible idea to have all these logistics. Could I streamline it? Yeah.” But the fact that his business model is not scalable is because his work is incredibly personal, which is what Chris loves about it.
Chris says that the biggest “why” about his work is that it matters. Vermont agriculture is at a crossroads. In 2009 the Farm to Plate Investment Program Legislation was approved, codifying a movement that had already been underway at the grassroots level and getting millions in government funding behind the initiative. The goal of the Farm to Plate movement is to help preserve Vermont’s agrarian identity. Chris is a leader in this movement. The Vermont agro-tourism industry is already about a 10 to 20 million dollar business. The industry, however, isn’t new, Chris says. In the 1890s, a member of the Vermont Board of Agriculture, Victor Spear, said that “The summer boarder is perhaps our most profitable crop.” Chris envisions that within 10 years hospitality training will be widespread among farms and a sizable portion of farms’ incomes will come from tourism.
One of Chris’ latest initiatives is promoting Vermont spirits. He sees enormous potential for Vermont spirits, because they can be 100 percent Vermont-made, including even the grains. He even hired a public-relations consultant to help promote fully-Vermont distilled spirits, and the story got national attention.
In just ten years, Chris went from pulling his first weed at the Middlebury organic farm to being a leader in a movement to preserve Vermont’s agrarian identity. By searching and ultimately finding his passion, and seeing the opportunity to turn it into a livelihood, Chris is connecting people to Vermont through farm and food. His work is not only meaningful to him but its helps farmers to sustain their livelihoods and preserve a Vermont way of life.