I hiked the Grand Canyon recently. Actually, twice in the past year. Once rim to rim and once down to the Colorado River and back up. After each hike I stood at the South Rim in awe of the distance covered. Maybe it was the fatigue, the elevation, or my brain finally taking time to process the last few months but as I stood there, I couldn’t help but make connections between the physical experience of the hikes and the experience going through life. The first, and maybe most obvious connection between the two, was the pain and fatigue. If there is one thing that this year has been, it has been emotionally painful and as I look at my friends and colleagues, folks are tired.

The more I thought about things, the more I focused on people and the relationships that we have with one another. For example, you meet a lot of people along the hikes. Some you see only briefly as you pass one another. Others may walk with you for a while before going their separate way. And then there are the friends who started and stayed with you throughout the experiences. The ones who took turns with you leading and setting the pace and following behind making sure no one dropped or lost things. These friends walked next to you to keep you company and made you smile when you were tired and offered food when you were hungry. They stayed and rested as long and as many times as you needed to make sure that you had the energy to make it through. It’s been my experience that these are the same people who have been there for me emotionally as well, cheering me up when I needed it, encouraging me when I didn’t see my potential, and helping me stay on the right path. These are people you hold on to.

The people who I met the last 4.5 miles of the hikes made a significant and lasting impression on me. These people were tired, running on empty, in pain, hungry, moving slowly upward toward the edge of the rim. But these were the most encouraging people that I met along the entire trip. There were smiles and words of encouragement as you slowly trudged past one another. There were genuine inquiries into well being. People politely waited to pass you when you were finally able to move over. Maybe it was from a sense of solidarity and camaraderie that comes from knowing that you both have undertaken an arduous journey. By all expectations these should be the crankiest people that you will ever meet. But they were not. I think this says a lot about people in general. It’s when they have the least to give that they are the most generous. Similarly, we saw a lot of people who are emotionally exhausted by the world around them take to the streets to speak out against the injustice they experience in their everyday life. The greater majority of these demonstrations were peaceful, hallmarked by acts of generosity, kindness, solidarity, caring, empathy, and compassion.

I am very grateful to my and my friends’ spouses who watched and waited for us to finish. I think family has the unenviable position to sometimes just watch our struggles knowing that it is something that we have to do for ourselves. However, once we do, they are there to hear our stories, share in pictures and memories, celebrate with us, and sometimes comfort us. I know that my wife and family have been an incredible source of strength, joy, and sanity this past year.

My last insight was the mantra that I kept repeating to myself when I was the most fatigued and in pain. It’s not particularly deep but it gave me a lot of perspective. Simply, it was “one foot in front of the other”. Each step may seem insignificant but each step brings you closer to your goal. Rest when you need to and when you are ready, get up and keep going forward. But don’t forget to look up from time to time and reflect on how far you’ve come, what you’ve overcome, and remember the people along the way. You’ll be amazed.

March 2020. One day the college campus was bustling with life, and the next day there were tumbleweeds rolling through the courtyard like a scene from Deadwood. Everything turned upside down, and I began working from home like many others. I was unsettled, uncertain. I decided to start a log of my days - a diary of sorts - to bring some tangible, concrete-ness to my life. It’s October 2020 now. Looking back on these entries bubbles up an ocean of memories and sentiments as can now see how I progressed through the five (5) stages of grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. I am so appreciative of how far we’ve come in these seven (7) months.

Workday 1 – Tues., Mar. 17, 2020 First day telecommuting. Living the dream! Best part: Lunch with husband! Worst part: Guy at Chipotle stood less than 6-feet from us. Rude! Day 2 – Wed., Mar. 18 Best: Rainy day! Worst: House smells like corn chips. Day 3 – Thurs., Mar. 19 Best: Made a makeshift wrist rest from a bundle of clean socks. Worst: Headache from non-ergonomic desk set up.

Day 4 – Fri., Mar. 20 Best: No one can smell my coffee breath. Worst: Virtual dance off with co-workers to blow off steam was extremely awkward. Day 5 – Mon., Mar. 23 Best: Routine. Worst: Internet connection problems. Day 6 – Tues., Mar. 24 Best: Team meeting. Worst: Laptop ergonomic set up still not great...

Day 8 – Thurs., Mar. 26 Best: My husband nearby. Worst: Grumpy and no one noticed my video conference outfit. Day 9 – Fri., Mar. 27 Best: It’s Friday. Worst: Three (3) Web Conferences at once! Day 10 – Mon., Mar. 30 Best: Fast Monday. Worst: Struggled to provide meaningful training over the phone.

Day 11 – Tues., Mar. 31 Best: Taking personal time to regroup. Day 12 – Wed., Apr. 1 Best: Looking forward to grocery delivery tomorrow, like a weirdo. Worst: Husband took an unexpected trip to the store and bought some items that are going to be delivered tomorrow. Day 13 – Thurs., Apr. 2 Best: Focused projects. Good mood. Worst: Hair is poofy.

Day 14 – Fri., Apr. 3 Best: The “It’s Friday” feelings still hold up. Worst: Disappointing news for me because of COVID. Day 15 – Mon., Apr. 6 Best: Monday went fast. Worst: Monday was a Monday. Day 16 – Tues., Apr. 7 Best: Feeling at peace. Worst: Frustrating news for hubbins regarding his industry and COVID.

Day 17 – Wed., Apr. 8 Best: Brief drive to support a local business. Worst: Tiger King is really dark…Day 18 – Thurs., Apr. 9 Best: Taking Good Friday off.Best: Taking Good Friday off. Worst: Takes 24 hours to render a video conference file...

Day 19 – Mon., Apr. 13 Best: Fast day. Worst: Iffy motivation. Day 20 – Tues., Apr. 14 Best: Video chat with friends. Worst: A distracting webinar participant would not mute microphone! Day 21 – Wed., Apr. 15 Best: Connected with colleagues today. Worst: Six (6) meetings! This is not sustainable.

Day 22 – Thurs., Apr. 16 Best: Felt productive. Worst: Excited about my side hustle, How Not To Podcast. Day 23 – Fri., Apr. 17.Best: Fridayyyyy! Worst: Internet connection problems + remote work = no bueno. Day 24 – Mon., Apr. 20. Best: Worked from home for a change (and for better Wi-Fi Signal) itchenWorst: Didn’t go on walks because my knee was sore from bumping into the corner of the desk.

Day 25 – Tues., Apr. 21. Best: Side project almost complete! Worst: Woke up with a cough which made me nervous. Day 26 – Wed., Apr. 22. Best: Productive and complimented for my work. Worst: ¿Dónde está el weekend? Day 27 – Thurs., Apr. 23 Best: Big meeting went well. Worst: Could’ve walked more, I guess.

Day 28 – Fri., Apr. 24 Best: Productive Friday! Worst: Getting hot outside, so walks aren’t as lovely. Day 29 – Mon., Apr. 27 Best: Slow and easy day. Saw my sister for the first time in a month. Worst: Getting hot. Day 30 – Tues., Apr. 28 Best: Good day. Worst: Slight conflict of perspective in a meeting. Not a huge deal.

Day 32 – Wed., Apr. 29. Forgot to document for a week… Day 38 – Thurs., May 7 Best: Became routine. Worst: Still no certainty. Day 39 – Fri., May 8. Best: F-R-I-D-A-Y. Worst: H-O-T. Day 40 – Mon., May 11. Best: Cooler weather, baby squirrels on our walk!

Day 44 – Fri., May 15. Best: Friday! Day 55 – Wed., June 3 Best: Connection with colleagues on real issues. Worst: Pain in our country. Day 57 – Mon., June 8, 2020. Are we there yet? Day 63 – Wed., June 17. Colleague is going to retire :-(. Day 66 – Tues., June 23. Had to completely change the education plans for which I had prepared for months because COVID.

Mon., Oct. 19 Best: Wrote Article for New Media Lab Written Word Journal. Worst? Things could be worse...

In early spring 2020, my professional life and my home life were bursting at the seams. I was in the final semester of a five-year dissertation journey, working my full time gig in the CTL, serving the college on overload time as faculty liaison to dual enrollment, and wrestling through the critical expectations of year five PAR faculty. My three young children, all under the age of twelve, were in nine activities combined. Earlier in the year, my husband and I started a club baseball team. So, I was also managing the team website, player dues, apparel, and tournament schedule. When I wasn’t at work, I was shuffling kids to hockey, dance, baseball, and Awanas. I spent the weekends at hockey tournaments and dance competitions with my laptop in tow. And, I maintained our home--cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, and packing lunches. Most of the time, we ate dinner on the road or at the ice den. My world was anxious. Wound up too tight.

During a CTL meeting in February, James mentioned a virus. I had no idea what he was talking about. The life I was living had no time for television or the news.

Enter COVID-19. My youngest son suffered from autoimmune illnesses for the first two years of his life. He is fierce yet delicate. I am not highly concerned about Henry and the virus, but it weighs into my thoughts. We live within ten miles of my parents and in-laws. Both sets are in their early to mid seventies. Both sets have underlying health conditions. Fragile children and parents make quarantining easy. We live in a cul de sac with two other families with young children. The kids adjusted quickly from sports and activities to swimming, video games, and playing kick the can in the street.

Enter racial pandemic. For five years, I was engrossed in literature relative to cultural responsiveness, transformative learning, and global perspective. I invested professional and personal time to better understand self with others. I traced the cultural norms that shaped my values and beliefs to reinforcers that perpetuate my behaviors and actions in the workplace. I grew intraracially and interracially alongside colleagues of color and European-American colleagues at the college. Personal investment in this work has caused me to more fully understand the magnitude of the physical and racial state of our college, which is merely a microcosm of our nation.

I am restless about our institution. My commitment to faculty and student success causes the letters to wear out on my keyboard. I am acutely aware of the diversity of needs in our community. Similar to student needs caused by a global pandemic, our colleagues have been impacted by COVID-19 illness, learning how to teach online, limited access to the internet, full confinement to home for underlying health conditions, and racial unrest. Yet, in these darker hours, the light begins to shine. There is an evolving commitment to believing the experiences of others and to personal and institutional transformation towards justice. I have experienced and observed a heightened level of collaboration within my own department and among others. People are showing up. Technology connected us differently by extending our capacity to meet one another without place. Experiencing COVID-19 together has revealed social inequity and ignited our purpose as a community college.

We enrolled our kids into a flex model of school this semester. They attend live online instruction during school hours five days each week. Sports and activities are gradually returning with new health and safety protocols. My husband goes to the high school every day wearing an N95 mask for a hybrid model of instruction. I have been afforded the opportunity to work from home. Ironically, I feel more connected to my department and colleagues at the college, across the district, and at partner high school districts than before this change. Technology brings us together, and we continuously solve problems with urgency. Most importantly, my dishwasher is always full. It is remarkably peaceful settling into home.

Megan Garvy

From Roots to Reason

Having served as Education Faculty for nearly 2 decades before moving into college administration, my teaching of Cultural Diversity in Education centered on the questions: Who am I? Who are you? and Who are we together? In preparation for interviewing for my current Senior Associate Vice President position as well as throughout my transition into the role, I found myself reflecting on these same questions.

Roots: Who am I?

I was born into an immigrant Mexican family, the youngest of seven children and the only one born in the United States. Spanish is my first language and was the language of our home and the only language in which we ever communicated with our parents. I grew up in Roll, Arizona, a small farming community between Gila Bend and Yuma.

I am happily married to my high school sweetheart, Alberto, and we are the proud parents of Erica, Sonora, and Gabriela, all now grown adults. How time does fly! In what seems like the blink of an eye, Alberto and I are now also thoroughly enjoying the adventures of grandparenthood as our babies begin to have their own babies.

Family is very important to me, and I am keenly aware that I wouldn’t be where I am today. if it weren’t for their sacrifices, love, and support, particularly:

● the sacrifices my parents made to provide us with opportunities far beyond those they ever had. ● the guidance of my older siblings who paved the path to higher education for me, and. ● the encouragement and support of my husband as we raised our three young children while pursuing graduate degrees and careers.

My personal background, formal education, and professional experiences provide the foundation for how I live and work, based on my roots, love and respect for self and others, balance in life, and passion for what I do.

● Love – Love yourself, Love your neighbor. Love your realities. Show this love by cherishing all that you have, including the people that surround you as well as the opportunities you enjoy and the challenges you face.

● Roots – Remember where you came from, recognizing that everything you are today stems from struggles, successes, joys and sorrows of your past and your people’s past.

● Respect – Our lives are much richer when, underlying all interactions, we treat one another and our environment with respect.

● Balance – Life is short. Our time together limited. Learn to cherish every moment by striking a balance among the various aspects of life that require or deserve attention.

● Passion – When you find your passion(s), you find your motivation and drive. The value of your own life becomes evident as you address your passion(s) and recognize the difference you can make in the world.

Reason: Why am I here?

This foundation, accompanied by the values of lifelong learning, service, diversity, and community, have drawn me to and driven my commitment to our community college system. From my upbringing and family background, I developed a strong work ethic, I came to value the richness of language and culture, and I developed a passion for learning that motivated me to teach, initially within our public school system then at the community college because I wanted help empower others through education. My decision to go into public elementary and later community college education was intentional due to the focus on providing equitable, accessible educational opportunities intended to empower all to reach their potential. Throughout my career in education, I’ve had the privilege of seeing the significant impact of education:

During my second year of teaching elementary school, Esteban entered my 2nd grade class after the beginning of the school year. He had been homeless and had never attended school, but by the end of the fall semester, he had not only learned how to hold a pencil but was reading and writing independently and had become one of my model students.

Rachel entered my college class as a shy, insecure young lady, uncertain of the direction her life would go after having experienced considerable life challenges. Her potential was clear to see in the deeply reflective papers she submitted, and with a little encouragement, she blossomed, continuing on to pursue her bachelor’s and master’s degrees in education and has now earned numerous honors as an educator, including Teacher of the Year.

Sheila was a returning student, having dropped out of high school when she became a teenage mom. College was very foreign to her, and she felt self-conscious about being an older student, but with determination and persistence, she diligently worked through challenges to develop the skills she needed to complete her associate and bachelor’s degrees…with honors.

Empowering the Estebans, Rachels, and Sheilas of the world is my passion, and that is the reason I am here. It is my great honor and privilege to work collaboratively with our MCC Team to serve our diverse populations through lifelong educational opportunities that contribute to individual as well as community empowerment.

Under the circumstances of this past year, including a presidential election, the COVID-19 pandemic, and ongoing pursuits for social justice nationally and globally, these are questions many have undoubtedly pondered. I encourage you to take time to reflect on who you are, how you got to where you are, and what gives you motivation and strength to face the challenges life brings with a resilience that also makes you a model for those around you.

The Kid’s Table

There is nothing like having a front seat to the holiday food prep that occurs in many black households. I remember as a little girl, my grandmother, mother and aunts would make dinner for the holidays. The smell of candied yams, macaroni and cheese, dressing, fried chicken, turkey and gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans, greens, yeast rolls, hot water cornbread, sweet potato pie, peach cobbler and poundcake was so intoxicating, that your belly ached with anticipation. Within all this food preparation, you knew there would be no new recipes or food ideas. This time was not for experimentation. Only the time-tested dishes and preparers were allowed to satiate appetites during this sacred moment and as children, you aspired to that level of greatness.

The most anticipated moment of the day would be hearing the phrase, “It’s time to pray”. This moment solidified that we were one step closer to a food-induced slumber. After the family grasped hands while forming a circle, my grandfather or eldest male would bless the food and afterwards, my grandmother, or any woman who was older than you, would give instructions thereafter. “Lord, please don’t let this prayer be too long”, we all thought as the tones of agreement went forth during the blessing. The “amen” seemed to be a distant dream, but would soon arrive prior to your self-control falling apart.

Now, the typical dinner instructions went forth via the loudest woman in the house. First, the eldest were served, then the adults (no one can officially say what age that is) and lastly, the kids. As a kid, you just hoped no one got your favorite piece of meat or a corner of the slightly-burnt cheese in the macaroni and cheese dish. When the time finally arrived for the kids to eat, the rush to the front had to be “cool and casual”, because it was forbidden to play around the food. For me, a slow plater, it was critical that none of the food blended into each other, while my cousin just piled one item on top of another. Then we would slowly walk our heavy plates to an after-thought tiny corner card table, thrown together with some folding chairs. This table was the most neglected-looking table, but was absolutely the most intensely fun and eye-opening spot in the room. Every subject a kid ever wanted to hear was discussed here. From hearing the latest gossip about a family member, to learning about a new music artist or video that came out, the time was never wasted. Also, there was one rule which was never to bother anyone at the “big table”. The adults talked differently in that space and interrupting them would give the entire table permission to tell you to “stay out of grown folks business”, which was the ultimate humiliation, making the “kid’s table” the safest place to be.

I miss those days of vicarious learning, which allowed me to gain knowledge without the memory of the experience. I wish I would have understood how much space truly existed between the “big table” and the “kids table”. These two groups occupied the same space, but had entirely different perspectives on reality. The true distance between them was years of reality-testing that would certainly become mandatory for all of us to experience. There was so much innocence and hope at that corner table because it embodied all the investments for the next generation. Since I am at the “big table” now, I hope I will always know that the “kid’s table” is watching me and know when they interrupt me, it’s because I am needed at that sacred moment.

Horse Training and Teaching Composition

I love horses. When I was growing up, I dreamed of being an Olympic equestrian, and allowed my imagination to run wild jumping over broomsticks and rakes secured atop chair backs in a dotted pattern scattered across my family’s backyard. When I earned enough money for my first horse, a grey-mutt mare with an abundance of personality, I found a horse that loved to run barrels and go through obstacle courses. I craved speed and precision as well, so we enjoyed years of gymkhana competitions. I eventually graduated to hunting and jumping, loving the opportunity to run at high speed toward an obstacle and soar over it. Reality, though, set in, as I realized that going all the way to the Olympics requires countless hours of practice, unrivaled trainers, and deep, deep pockets. I adjusted my expectations, therefore, and did what so many athletes do: move from contestant to trainer.

When I tell my students that I was a horse trainer for my first career, I often get the “really?!” response. Being a bespectacled professor (with the bespectacled part being most recent over the past few years), teaching composition seems quite contrary to my previous experience training horses. Reality, though, is just how similar the careers are.

My childhood trainer often commented that I was a quiet rider, one who did not make sudden movements, and seldom displayed the cues that directed horses to shift into a new gait or go in a different direction. I was not a fan of spurs, needless to say. I liked building rapport with and encouraging my horses to commit to and enjoy the ride with me.

As a writing instructor, I find that I ask students to engage in the same type of shared experience, and it is through developing a connection that I can ask students to fully engage in the class and learning outcomes. Just as coercion only goes so far in a horse’s commitment to the journey, punitive policies and negative experiences discourage students’ open-minded approach to communicating effectively. This is a losing position for all.

Just as different types of rides require different approaches, different writing contexts demand different strategies. When I encouraged a horse to go as fast as it could around barrels and poles, there was still an understanding that strategy for shaving off seconds was as important as speed. The same is true for short, impactful arguments that must maximize every word to achieve the writer’s goal, to cross the finish line successfully.

Strategizing the best approaches and pacing for clearing jumps is similar to research and development strategies that require each major leg to be clear and fully developed.

Finally, working with endurance horses by trotting for hours daily on meandering paths throughout the Prescott National Forest helped me address the step-by-step process of writing, of exploring a topic slowly, methodically, and fully.

Perhaps the most important connection I find between my first career and the career that defines my professional life most, teaching and the power of language, is how important it is to be quiet and listen, but being prepared to overcome obstacles. Sometimes being still can help us know how to move forward, and sometimes being silent allows us to know how to express ourselves and affect change, whether it be to round a barrel, clear a jump, or compel someone to do something for the greater good. It is worth the effort to be quiet, engaged, and ready to ride/write. Then, it is necessary to take action and clear the obstacles.

Every year, my new year’s resolution is to make the year better than the last. I was looking forward to 2020 and all of the possibilities. The year started with me applying for and securing the position of Director of Planning and Research. I was excited to bring my knowledge and skills into the position and make it my own. The equity work and the different teams I was a part of were doing well. The data science team I had started and restarted over the years was finally making progress. I was back in the gym five times a week. My family and friends were healthy. The year was off to a great start! And then Covid-19 happened.

One month into my new position and we were working remotely. My one hour commute one way was now a one minute commute to my dining room table. The commute has been amazing, but the time saved in driving has definitely been added to the time spent in meetings. Is this the case for anyone else?

The transition from campus to virtual was difficult at first. My role as director, equity, and data science work were not a difficult transition; it was knowing when to stop working. At times I didn’t know if I was at work or at home. It was so easy to jump into work after hours. I could see my work computers as it sat on my dining room table from my living room and I felt like it was looking at me calling my name all hours of the day.

After drawing the line between work and home, a new monitor, keyboard, headset, desk and a few moves around the house, I feel like I have finally adjusted. However, I’m still adjusting to, “Please mute your microphone,” “you’re on mute,” “can you hear me,” and “you’re frozen.” It’s an adjustment for everyone. The flow of communication is different now as everyone is trying to balance working from home.

Months into the pandemic and work is going well, but I have not been to the gym in months. Working out from home lasted about a month and I have ridden my new Peloton four times in one month. I have not been in most stores since March. I have a movie theater gift card that has yet to be used. I think the hardest thing during this pandemic has been worrying about the health and wellness of my family and friends.

In 2021, I look forward to being able to gather with family and friends, and returning back to campus where I can collaborate with others face to face about data and how it informs all we do, we begin to see how student success is foremost in everyone’s mind and those are the conversations that are worth the hour long commute I will welcome back some day.

Stay well