Everyone’s Irish once a year—or, at least, they like to think they are. That’s what Corey Johnson ‘88 has observed playing in the band Keep Britain Irish for over 15 years.

Many initial band member connections were made at �㽶��Ƶ, he said, including Jamey Evans ‘89 and Steve Brosius ‘92.

“My wife thinks there’s one degree of separation between everything at HC,” Johnson said.

That only scratches the surface of his Bronco network. Johnson’s parents and grandmother are all alumni, and his father (Duane “Bear” Johnson ’57) directed the �㽶��Ƶ bands for 33 years. All three of Johnson’s siblings also went to HC, as well as his niece and nephew. Coincidentally, Robin Koozer ‘76 was also Johnson’s high school choir director.

This story originally appeared in .

While Johnson has always considered himself primarily a vocalist, he also grew up playing other instruments, including the trumpet, french horn and guitar. This strong musical foundation led him to participate in both choir and band ensembles at HC, where he studied religion and sociology.

“One of the highlights of the choir career there was that we went and performed at the Avery Fisher Hall in a mass choir doing Verdi’s ‘Messa da Requiem,’” he said. The Avery Fisher Hall in New York City is the home to the New York Philharmonic.

Music continued to play a strong role throughout Johnson’s life, even when he had an office job. After graduating, he moved to Denver, Colorado, where he worked at an adolescent shelter and then Denver Human Services. During his 28 years at the DHS, he performed in weddings and played in a band with his coworkers called the Uncivil Servants.

In 2008, Johnson reconnected with college buddies, including Evans and Brosius, jamming out together in an unfinished basement. Among many different musical tastes, they found a common ground in Irish pub music.

For Johnson, the blending of instruments and harmonies in Irish music are what draw him to the genre. These characteristics also lend a “singalong” quality to it.

“It’s always great when you’re at a gig and you see people singing along with you,” he said.

The name — Keep Britain Irish — is something they came up with so long ago that the origin is almost forgotten. Instead of making a bold political statement, it’s meant to be tongue-in-cheek and punchy.

“It’s more kinda cheeky…the whole idea of the name was, it was to be kind of provocative and ironic,” Johnson said. “Most of the time we just shorten it to KBI.”

The band members kept playing together, and after some encouragement, KBI had its first public debut on March 17, 2008—St. Patrick’s Day.

Unsurprisingly, the Irish-American holiday is always what draws in the largest crowds, Johnson said.

“For us it’s always been our best day of the year. It’s always when we have our largest audience,” he said. “We’ve played for the Denver St. Patty’s day population. It’s a high-energy, high-exposure day for us.”

KBI, which still has four of its original members, now includes Johnson, vocalist, mandolinist, harmonicist and penny whistler; Evans, vocalist and rhythm guitarist; Brosius, percussionist; Jake Stoudenmire, bassist; and Aaron Langton, guitarist.

Leading the party

The group has evolved over the years to incorporate more than traditional Irish pub songs. The band’s set lists now encompass an eclectic mix including covers from Tom Petty, The Who, Flogging Molly, Dropkick Murphys, Lukas Nelson and Chris Stapleton. Also in the mix are a few original KBI songs that Johnson and another band member wrote.

Through the variety of genres, the through line is the band’s mission statement to “lead the party.”

“There’s people that have their favorite traditional Irish songs, you see them singing along, you’re doing like a Flogging Molly song, Irish punk style, you see people singing with that. You see people sing ‘Galway Girl’ by Steve Earle,” Johnson said. “We choose songs people are familiar with…songs people instantly recognize.”

The band has also slowed down its performance schedule somewhat over the years. Gone are the days of performing a “St. Patty’s Run” of three to five shows the week of St. Patrick’s Day — “Our voices and our bodies don’t hold up.”

Over the past summer, KBI’s monthly performance schedule included an appearance at Jack Quinn’s Irish Pub in Colorado Springs, Colorado.

What keeps the band going after all these years is the simple connecting power of music and the energy of the crowds, Johnson said.

“Every time we get up there (on stage) it just reminds us of why we enjoy doing it,” he said.

These connections radiate out to the venues and communities they perform in. It’s been another form of the “HC connection” for Johnson.

“Another thing that’s been great is the connections with other �㽶��Ƶ people. We have a lot of HC people who come to our shows that we stay connected with,” he said. “Music brings out something that is very unifying.”

Editors note: Follow along with KBI at and .

By Emily Case-Buskirk ‘14

Now, in a move that seems as inevitable as the Earth circling the sun, the retired astronaut and Ashland native has landed back in Nebraska as the museum’s new president and CEO.

“This museum was built on land in my hometown. The doors of the museum opened in May 1998, one month before NASA called and asked me to become the first astronaut from Nebraska. So the tug to come home and do this job was strong,” said Anderson, who served on the museum’s board before becoming CEO. “I have a vision for this place. I believe it’s good now but it can be great. It could and should be a gem of the Midwest.”

Anderson’s career at NASA as an engineer and astronaut spanned three decades. He spent 167 days in space on two missions and executed six spacewalks. Since retiring from NASA in 2013, he continued to live in Houston while teaching part time at Iowa State University, where he earned his master’s degree in aerospace engineering. He has written five books about space and his experiences, including three for children.

Anderson and his wife Susan, now retired from a position as community engagement officer at NASA, are building a home on Lake Allure in Ashland.

Space is the place

The SAC & Aerospace Museum board is excited to have Anderson at the helm. “The stars have aligned,” said Gary Gates, chair. “Clay’s unique professional experiences align perfectly with the mission of the museum.”

Located between Lincoln and Omaha near I-80, the museum uses 300,000 square feet of exhibit and education space to preserve the history of the Strategic Air Command and its efforts to keep the peace between the U.S. and the Soviet Union during the Cold War. The museum features an impressive collection of SAC aircraft, missiles, rockets and other aerospace artifacts, as well as two full-motion flight simulators, a Children’s Learning Center and airplane restoration facilities.

As the museum approaches its 25th anniversary in 2023, Anderson is eager to build on its rich history while launching new initiatives focused above the atmosphere.

“Space is the place. That’s where everything’s going,” he said. “My job is to help the museum tell the story of how we went from a deterrence focused-Cold War heritage with ties to STRATCOM to illustrating how our past shapes our future using the same concept of deterrence but in outer space.”

Anderson envisions a major renovation of the current facility and the addition of a missile and space gallery with artifacts, classrooms and perhaps even a planetarium and observatory. A key focus of his efforts will be adding more hands-on activities to engage kids and their parents.

Bomb bay of a B-36

Anderson points at the open belly of a 159,000-pound B-36 Peacemaker, the largest production bomber ever built. The massive bomb bay, open to the atmosphere, connects the flight deck and crew compartment to a rear section where the crew of 15 ate and slept. To reach the back of the plane, the crew pulled themselves by rope on wheeled trolleys that rolled through tunnels on either side of the open bay.

The former astronaut’s eyes light up when he describes his plan to build tunnels under the museum’s B-36 where kids can slide through the bay and experience a bit of the thrill of those long-ago aviators.

“We need to create interactive exhibits where families can be entertained, educated and inspired,” Anderson said. “That’s our mantra today.”

Wherever the former astronaut’s vision leads the museum, he will always search the skies for inspiration.

“Everything I’ve done in my life is about looking up,” he said.

By Judee Konen ’85

While at �㽶��Ƶ, RuAnn (Ulmer) Root ‘86 was skeptical about her classes in writing, public speaking and nonprofit accounting — requirements for her Human Service Administration degree.

“To be honest, I thought I would never use the information from those classes. However, have they ever come in handy,” said executive director of (CASA) in Hastings, a position she’s held for 22 years.

She’s used those skills to expand the agency’s programs into six counties, offer transitional living for youth aged 16-22 and mentor young professionals.

Root is one of many alumni for whom a �㽶��Ƶ education, rooted in the liberal arts and practical experiences, provides a foundation for serving others. They carry flames lit at �㽶��Ƶ into their current communities as nonprofit executives, employees, and board members.

A Life in Community

When Tim Moore ‘07 was earning his religion and media degree at �㽶��Ƶ, then-director of the Vocation and Values program and religion professor Dr. Trace Haythorn frequently assigned writings by Father Henri Nowen. Through Nowen, Moore learned about L’Arche, an organization of intentional communities throughout the world pairing people with and without intellectual disabilities.

Upon graduation, Moore took a position with L’Arche New Zealand and remains with the organization today as executive director of L’Arche Atlanta.

“The relationships have kept me in L’Arche,” said Moore. “Whether it was Victor in New Zealand, Mo in Washington DC or John in Atlanta, I have been given the gift of friendship with incredible people who have shaped me and made my life all the richer.”

On a daily basis, the core members — those with intellectual disabilities — go about work with the support they need from their assistants.

“Picture a big family doing daily life where each person has a different job, school, or set of activities/hobbies to engage,” said Moore. “Some of the members just happen to need a bit of extra support in very specific ways.”

Driven by ‘Lived Experience’

Eboni Nash’s work in the nonprofit sector is motivated by her father’s incarceration more than anything she learned in the classroom.

“His absence had a huge impact on my childhood development,” said Nash, a 2019 graduate. “I believe society could have created a safer place for me to live and learn than what was given to me initially.”

Equipped with the skills she honed as director of �㽶��Ƶ’s Food4Thought nonprofit and her master’s in Theological Studies from Harvard Divinity School, Nash has returned to her native Colorado to build a better world.

Now, as vice president of development and communications for , Nash reports to Robert Andrews ‘07, the organization’s president and CEO, who is also an HC Trustee. Additionally,�� she serves as Diversity Equity and Inclusion Program recruitment manager for Metropolitan State University of Denver.

“At CommunityWorks, I help strategize and facilitate connection with the current workforce for a diverse population of job seekers,” she said. “At MSU Denver, I help advocate to Colorado employers on how they can create an equitable and accessible workplace for the incoming talent pipeline.”

Thanks to flexible work environments and complementary missions, she is well-positioned to facilitate collaboration within the Denver community. Additionally, these positions allow her to apply her “lived experience” as the child of an incarcerated parent, a first generation college graduate, and a person who has experienced food insecurity.

“Many times, the people making decisions have no context nor experience with the scenario in question,” said Nash.�� “If we were able to advocate for lived experience and how it might impact historically excluded voices, then we would be able to create a holistic and equitable system for all.”

Changing Lives in West Africa

Grant Nagaki ‘13 might just be 2022’s real-life version of Superman. During the day, he’s seeking to improve mental healthcare delivery systems. In his free time, he’s managing the nonprofit he co-founded in Ghana.

Traveling to Central America during �㽶��Ƶ’s former J-Term awoke Nagaki to a larger world in which he could help others.

“My experience at Hastings helped me experiment with volunteer work and with organizing such work. I was able to host a few fundraisers and start pitching ideas,” said Nagaki.

A port stop in Ghana as part of Semester at Sea inspired Nagaki and a fellow student to found the Senase Project and put his fundraising and organizational skills to use for a greater good. This poverty elimination organization has morphed into , a nonprofit with the mission to “empower children through the expansion of equitable access to quality education.”

Equipping students in villages with tuition, uniforms, books, supplies, and food hasn’t been easy as of late.

“We were unable to travel to Ghana during the pandemic, but the work still remained active through our field officer in Ghana,” he said.

Nagaki, who currently lives in New York City, specializes in all things financial, legal and operational for Aya. He credits �㽶��Ƶ experiences with preparing this vocation.

“I believe the close-knit community at Hastings gave me the comfort and opportunity to [lead a nonprofit organization],” he said. “It is intimidating work, but when you have a community who supports you, it allows you to be so much more confident and not fear failure.

Lives (Mostly) Balanced

Burnout in the nonprofit sector can run high. To maintain their drive to serve, Moore and Root prioritize the demands on their time.

“Two things that I’ve found that are important for me: I need to invest in friendships that are friend-first relationships,” said Moore.

The second for Moore is therapy.

“Leading a service provision organization through a pandemic was brutal and I’ve found that my leadership is more grounded when I’m living from a place of wellness and integration,” said Moore.�� “Therapy has played an important role in helping me live from that place more often.”

Root prioritizes presence based on where she is at the given moment.

“When I leave work — I LEAVE WORK — I do not check emails, talk about what I did at work with friends or family to nurture what I value and refill ‘my bucket,’” Root said. “I have a passion for the work I do, and consider it a privilege every day to work in this field. I hopefully make just a small difference in the lives of families.”

Though seeing one might make you go “eww,” the lowly mealworm is packed with protein and a viable food source for an overpopulated planet, said Powers, CEO of Jord Producers, a newly-launched, commercial mealworm farm operation located at sites in Juniata and Lindsay, Nebraska.

“The world’s population is going to reach 10 billion, and we’re going to have to be more creative in finding protein,” she said. “Dried mealworms are 55 percent protein. That’s pretty impressive. So is the environmental footprint of what it takes to raise them.”

For now, Powers and her co-founders, Kris Vrooman and Amber Klassen, are focused on selling live mealworms as a food source for animals.

“My passion is the food industry, but I recognize that there’s a cringe factor to mealworms. They’re not for everyone. So, the low hanging fruit is to sell them live to customers who use them to feed other animals,” Powers said.

Customer segments include bait shops, wild bird stores, zoos and owners of specialty pets like lizards, turtles, hedgehogs and tarantulas. Since chickens love mealworms (“They’ll do flips for them,” Powers said), the women are targeting backyard poultry owners and commercial poultry producers.

Calling themselves “entrepreneurial women who are not afraid to get our hands dirty,” Jord takes pride in shipping containers of product that arrive not only alive but thriving.

“We’re small enough to care what the customer thinks,” Powers said. “When we send the first shipment, I always follow up with a phone call to make sure they’re satisfied. We love it when they say the worms are beautiful.”

Mealworms through the life cycle

At Jord’s production sites in Juniata and Lindsay, hundreds of trays in vertical towers hold millions upon millions of eggs, larvae, pupae and adult darkling beetles, the entire lifecycle of the mealworm. Beetles are separated from the eggs since they eat their young.

The inch-long, yellow-skinned larvae (mealworms), which shed their exoskeletons 10 to 20 times in a lifecycle, are sold as tasty treats for animals in Nebraska and surrounding states. Even the insects’ manure, known as frass, is marketed as an odorless fertilizer for indoor and outdoor plants.

The breeding process, which takes place in climate-controlled barns, is relatively simple but time consuming with a three- to four-month span from egg to harvested mealworm.

“You have to keep a cycle going with breeding stock,” Powers said. “You can’t have all of your mealworms ready to harvest this week, because what would you have for next week? You have to keep populating so you consistently have a product.”

Powers, a member of the �㽶��Ƶ Foundation Board of Trustees and former assistant director of admissions at �㽶��Ƶ, became interested in the insect food industry after participating in start-up and business accelerator programs at the University of Arizona and University of Nebraska–Lincoln. After conducting interviews with 150 potential customers, she and her partners decided to launch the business in 2018.

“I wanted a company name that reflected my Danish heritage,” Powers said. “I Googled the word for Earth, since we’re dealing with a sustainable protein, and it came back ‘Jord’ [pronounced Yord] in Danish. In Norse mythology, it means goddess of the Earth, which seemed appropriate for an all-female business.”

The budding entrepreneurs faced a steep learning curve and a dearth of local resources in starting their venture. Unlike cattle, hog or poultry producers, they couldn’t turn to local veterinarians or county extension offices to learn best practices. When Powers approached a university entomologist, he told her, “I’d love to help you, but I work on eradicating, not growing, insects.”

So they watched YouTube videos, read articles and attended workshops on mealworm farming. In November, they attended Insectinov3 in Paris, an international conference where they’ll network with industrial-scale producers of insects for human and animal nutrition.

“Europe has been raising mealworms as an alternative protein much longer and at a much higher level than the U.S.,” Powers said. “They’re ahead of us by at least 10 to 15 years.”

An unlimited need for protein

As the women of Jord Producers ramp up their production capabilities, they’re also researching the equipment and permits necessary to dry and grind mealworms. The resulting protein-packed flour could be sold to companies for pet food and treats, replace some of the soy protein in poultry feed and, one day, provide an ingredient for human food like cakes, waffles or protein shakes.

Eating insects isn’t as unappetizing or unusual as it seems. At Seattle’s T-Mobile Park, home of the Mariners baseball team, the chapulines (toasted grasshoppers) are a hit with fans and a viral sensation. Chefs across the country are using insects in dishes like tacos, soup and sushi. And the insect protein market, including both human and animal nutrition, is projected to reach $1.3 billion by 2025 from $144 million in 2019, according to MarketsandMarkets, which tracks high-growth emerging markets worldwide.

Closer to home, alumni attending “Walk on the Wild Side,” an event co-sponsored by Jord Producers and �㽶��Ƶ at Steeple Brewing Co. in downtown Hastings, munched on treats like cookies, chips and mac ‘n cheese balls made with insects. “The Southern fried crickets were especially tasty,” said Alicia O’Donnell ‘96, director of alumni engagement and annual giving.

Although widespread human consumption of Jord’s slithering product is at least a few years down the road, Powers is on a mission to share the virtues of her highly-sustainable, protein-packed food source. In time, she hopes to recruit a co-op of farmers to harvest mealworms for people and businesses throughout the region.

“Mealworms are self contained,” she said. “They don’t jump. They don’t fly. It makes them easy to raise.”

By Judee Konen ’85, Associate Vice President for Advancement

Doug Phelps, a 1981 and 1989 (MAT) �㽶��Ƶ graduate and an associate professor of Teacher Education, is retiring after 17 years at the College. At HC, he taught science methods courses and Physical Geography and Instructional Tools for Teachers. Before coming to �㽶��Ƶ, he worked as a science instructor at Central Community College in Grand Island, Nebraska, and was a high school science teacher at Lexington (Nebraska) Senior High School. This piece is written by his daughter, Ann Phelps ’07.

By Ann Phelps ‘07

“But how does the water get up there?” William asks from his car seat as we drive past the water tower that looms large over our neighborhood in Jackson, Mississippi. It dominates the landscape of his three-year-old world, and every day he has more questions about it, none of which I can answer, with my degrees in theology and art and music.

“I’m not sure…,” I reply. “I’m not sure…but you know who we should ask? Grandad.”

For my entire life, I have depended on my dad’s seemingly endless knowledge to answer questions small and large, concrete and abstract.

My child’s curiosity about water towers evokes a memory of my sophomore year of high school, lounging on the living room floor with three friends while my dad explained how the water from the Ogallala Aquifer had made its way into our glasses.

We’d gotten off track from our original purpose: we would gather each Thursday night so my dad could help us better understand the concepts from our biology textbook that just weren’t sticking. He would take out the old white clip board with the image of a basketball court on it that he’d once used to coach my sisters’ and my basketball teams, and he’d draw detailed diagrams that somehow made lipid cell membranes interesting to a group of future arts and humanities majors.

I pretty much won the great cosmic lottery when I was born into the world with Doug Phelps ‘81/’89 (MAT) for a dad. Or to use one of his many aphorisms from my childhood: “Life isn’t fair…aren’t you lucky?”

From my earliest memories, he was there, inviting us into the things that gave his life meaning and embracing the things that leant meaning to ours.

Something of a track phenom (this is news to exactly no one in central Nebraska), he somehow obtained a high jump pit for our backyard and spent countless summer evenings with us, observing our form, teaching us to get out of our heads and forget the bar and just trust we’d land on the other side, ultimately allowing things to devolve into a competition over who could stand up in the hammock the longest.

When it became clear that none of his children would have quite his athletic talent (one of us lacked the gift of height, another broke her nose high jumping somehow, and I nearly wound up with a concussion from too much hammock-standing, the only sport that ever captured my enthusiasm), he embraced his life of middle school band concerts, halftime dance routines and more high school musicals than he probably cares to remember.

He has always had the gift of helping people become the best version of themselves; he’s always been the coach, the mentor, the teacher.

With my child’s question still ringing in the back of my mind, my repetitive response, “I’m not sure…I’m not sure,” evokes another memory.

It is Christmas Eve and I am little, maybe four or five-years-old, and my dad is trying to get me to go to sleep after having returned from a church service that captivated my young imagination with a sea of candles, stories of babies and animals, and songs I actually knew. Everyone else in the house is asleep, and I’ve just asked the kind of question that no parent wants to get at bed time: “So, is the baby God, or is the father God?”

This is a question I continue to ask in new ways, decades and degrees in theology later, but I have never gotten a more satisfactory answer than the one my dad offered that night: “I’m not sure…I’m not sure.” It is perhaps the most faithful mantra I’ve ever heard. He didn’t shut me down and tell me to go to sleep. He didn’t tell me a “Truth” that would have been a lie.

He taught me from the very beginning that it is ok to be uncertain. His whole life has been a testament to the idea that doubt is not the opposite of faith—certainty is.

In fact, uncertainty—that moment when your feet leave the ground and you hover in mid-air, trusting you’ll land well and if you’ve worked hard, you might even fly higher than you’ve ever flown before—that fleeting moment of uncertainty is where we come alive. That is where joy, fear and hope intermingle. That is the place of faith.

My dad has always been the person to whom his children, grandchildren and students can bring curiosity and questions and know that that they’ll be engaged honestly, even if not answered.

Upon my graduation from high school (turns out we all passed biology class!), it seemed perfectly natural to enroll at �㽶��Ƶ, where only a few years prior my dad had begun working in the Education Department, teaching people to teach.

While I never got to take one of his classes, I continued to learn immeasurable amounts from him, as I watched him in his vocation. I’ve seen him spend countless hours analyzing accreditation standards with Kass Rempp, discerning how to help students transcend their limitations with Jim Loch and exploring new educational terrain with Lisa Smith as they would bring a busload of students to hang out with me in Jackson each J-Term, somehow bringing a spirit of wisdom and curiosity to each task while simultaneously finding reasons to laugh so hard he cries.

I’ve heard stories from students who recognized the extra hours he spent with them, despite the fact that they admittedly lacked any discernible motivation, to help them become passionate teachers and coaches in their own careers.

And perhaps the greatest testament I see to his work as a teacher is the way we, his three daughters, have found ways to continue learning from him and working by his side.

Whether it is a J-Term multicultural education collaboration that we dreamed up over one of our many late-night talks, or Jess (Phelps Ablott ‘04) and her family’s countless hours with him on the farm, or Katie’s (Phelps Reynolds ‘02) emerging vocation as a world-class science teacher herself, all of us are the clear products of the best teacher, father and coach anyone has ever known.

Lately, we’ve all been coming to him with a new question, neither theological nor scientific: “What are you going to do when you retire?”

Something tells me it will involve a lot of grandkids’ basketball games, time on the farm, track meets, diagrams of water towers, longer visits to the Deep South and probably even more middle school band concerts, poor guy.

But when we ask, I am entirely unsurprised by his hopeful answer, full of life and faith: “I’m not sure…I’m not sure.”

John H. Marsh ’81 was appointed by Gov. Pete Ricketts in March to the Ninth Judicial District Court, which covers Buffalo and Hall counties, including Kearney and Grand Island. Stephanie R. (Leibert) Hansen ’96 was appointed by Ricketts in November 2015 to the Fourth Judicial County Court, which covers Douglas County, including Omaha.

Prior to his appointment, Marsh was a partner at a private law office in Kearney and served as the Deputy Buffalo Public Defender since 2007. During 22 years of private practice, he focused on criminal defense, civil trial practice and family law. He earned a political science degree from �㽶��Ƶ and a Juris Doctor from the University of Nebraska College of Law.

Hansen, who earned a biology degree from �㽶��Ƶ and a Juris Doctor from the University of Nebraska College of Law, was the lead attorney for the Sarpy County Attorney’s Office before being appointed to the bench. In 2008, she received the Mothers Against Drunk Driving Outstanding Law Enforcement Prosecutor Award, and in 2010 received the Nebraska Coalition for Victims of Crime Allied Professionals Award. She also received the Kids First Award by Project Harmony in 2015.

Story by Amy (McGraw) Palser ’99

Seeley ’88, a systems engineer, sculpts large-scale creations with snow, creating jumbo characters like a 16-foot praying mantis, oversized gnomes and a sprawling, crawling octopus. He also does sand sculpture and giant 3-D sidewalk chalk drawings.

Each January, Seeley takes part in the U.S. National Snow Sculpting Competition in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, as one-third of Team Nebraska, which also includes sons Taylor and Thane. Over the past nine years, the team has earned several second and third place wins, and Seeley is determined that first place is around the corner. The highlight of his snow-sculpting career so far is representing the United States in the Harbin (China) International Ice and Snow Sculpture Festival in 2012.

Snow, like the chalk and sand with which he also crafts, is a good medium for its economy.

“It’s incredibly inexpensive—the snow is free,” he said with a laugh. “I can do colossal pieces of artwork. I can work on a scale I could have never worked on otherwise.”

His Omaha front yard makes a perfect studio in the winter months, and he always keeps an eye on the sky for Mother Nature’s next batch of free art materials.

Seeley initially had a double major of art and biology while at �㽶��Ƶ, but he decided to concentrate on science and leave the art for hobby.

“Art is a little more personal and precious to me, in a way,” he said.

Today, besides taking part in chalk, sand and snow competitions, Seeley tries to encourage creativity in his neighbors and the Omaha community by offering workshops and inviting the public to participate at some of his art events.

“In my own neighborhood, I see a lot of snow sculptures,” he says with satisfaction. “What I’m trying to show people is how to get the ordinary person to be more creative.”

This is a philosophy that liberal arts colleges like �㽶��Ƶ understand, he said. Everybody can benefit by incorporating creativity and art into their daily lives.

Seeley isn’t bothered by the fact that heat, wind or rain will quickly obliterate his creations.

“There’s a beauty in learning things are not permanent,” he said. “You’ve gotta soak these things up while you can.”

Story by Amy (McGraw) Palser ’99

Though they each have individual roles, four Heartland Bank employees relate to a special understanding that brings them together — a �㽶��Ƶ education.

Heartland Bank is made up of ten locations in Nebraska, with eight full-service branches and two loan production offices. Numerous corporate, bank-wide positions are officed at the Hastings branch, so what these four �㽶��Ƶ alumni are accomplishing with their liberal arts background impacts Nebraskans across the state.

Rush scores marketing position before graduating

Jameon Rush is a 2012 graduate of �㽶��Ƶ, earning a degree in web communication design. His interests led him to minor in studio art with an emphasis in graphic design.

He worked four internships during his time at �㽶��Ƶ and spent the last half of his senior year working part time at Heartland Bank while still managing his academic schedule as a full-time student.

“I wanted to get out into the real world to have a higher level of experience and responsibility,” Rush said. “The education I got at �㽶��Ƶ perfectly prepared me for this position.”

Rush is now the assistant vice president and marketing director at Heartland Bank.

“The department shapes the image of the bank from a marketing and public relations standpoint, and it’s directly utilizing the education and experience we’ve gained from �㽶��Ƶ,” Rush said.

His marketing work consists of both branch-level and bank-wide projects, using principles of all types of media and techniques he learned from previous college classes, internships and freelance opportunities.

Because Rush knows the importance of earning professional experience in college, he set up an internship program. Heartland Bank has hired talented �㽶��Ƶ students as marketing interns which Rush said has been mutually beneficial for both students and the bank.

Rush has also expanded his media talents into freelance video production, website design and logo design for his own separate company, Optix Digital Media.

“I’m able to balance that with a full-time career here at the bank, and �㽶��Ƶ helped me build contacts and forward from there,” Rush said.

Hands-on media experience prepared Dumas for professional world

Similar to Rush, Caitlin Dumas ‘14 majored in web communication design with minors in journalism and studio art.

Dumas was the HC Media Online webmaster for three years, in addition to writing and taking photos for the Collegian student newspaper.

“I’m still in connection with a lot of people and professors; there’s something really special about the media department and �㽶��Ƶ as a whole,” Dumas said. “It’s been really nice to stay in town and see how those connections grow outside of being a student.”

Dumas believes that her learning experiences with �㽶��Ƶ Journalism and Media Arts were unforgettable and valuable to her career.

“The whole media department did a really great job of giving you feedback in order to take the next steps to get better, and teaching you how to do that for yourself,” Dumas said.

Dumas is thankful for not only the skill set she gained, but the tools that �㽶��Ƶ provided her to improve and get hands-on experience in the media field that is constantly changing.

Dumas recently joined the Heartland Bank marketing team as a media specialist. She and Rush collaborate often and share opinions, as well as utilize each other’s strengths.

“Jameon and I share a lot of the same education, but enough differences that we can see it from the same perspective, but also bring in outside information because we both like to learn new things,” Dumas said.

�㽶��Ƶ allowed Anderson to pursue a new profession

Jeremy Anderson ‘04 took a different path, pursuing a degree in economics after starting a family.

“I was a non-traditional student, and the College really embraced that and took me in. I really felt like they not only took me in, but they took my family in,” Anderson said.

At that point in his life, Anderson made a complete change — he went back to college to make a transition from farming to something new.

“Throughout college, I had a part-time job in banking that transitioned me into a career. My experience at �㽶��Ƶ led me to that path,” Anderson said.

After working at two different banks, Anderson helped open the Hastings branch of Heartland Bank, formerly known as Geneva State Bank. Over time and through success, Anderson earned his way to the regional president position. Anderson now manages six of the 10 Heartland Bank locations, as well as Rush and Dumas’ marketing work.

“I’m responsible for the business output and performance of each of those locations, including Hastings, which I helped start and grow with the help of everyone here,” Anderson said.

Anderson feels that after his experience at �㽶��Ƶ, he was very prepared to make the transition into a new career.

“I’m still utilizing those skills every day,” he said.

As regional president, he looks for that same kind of educational background when hiring new Heartland Bank employees.

“It’s the old adage from �㽶��Ƶ that a liberal arts education makes you well-rounded, and I believe that still rings true,” Anderson said. “I’ve heard folks that have encountered people we’ve hired from �㽶��Ƶ say they have the resemblance of someone with a master’s degree type of education, just because they have that much breadth of experience. It’s a really good testament for what we pick up on at �㽶��Ƶ.”

Liberal arts built a strong foundation for Karloff

Melissa Karloff earned her bachelor’s degree in communication arts, speech and english from �㽶��Ƶ in 1984, and to her, it was a great foundation for anything she would want to do after college.

Her journey began with communications-based jobs out of state, until one day she received a phone call that led her back to Hastings.

“The director of admissions at the time called me out of the clear blue and asked me if I wanted to come back and work for �㽶��Ƶ,” Karloff said.

Though she was clearly on a different path, she gladly took the opportunity to return to her alma mater.

“I think that says a lot about the institution,” she said.

Melissa and her husband Michael Karloff ‘81 have had a close relationship with �㽶��Ƶ ever since. Michael currently works with the �㽶��Ƶ Foundation as associate vice president of advancement.

After earning a master’s degree and settling into another profession in human resources for 20 years, Melissa Karloff made a career move to Heartland Bank. There, as senior vice president of human resources, she is able to use the communication, writing and leadership skills she built during her time at �㽶��Ƶ both as a student and as an admissions counselor.

“It all really transfers nicely from that core that I received. It’s a great foundation,” Karloff said.

Karloff works with all of the branches bank-wide and is responsible for everything human resources-related, including training programs, leadership development and setting expectations for bank culture.

She often collaborates with Rush and Dumas to connect human resources projects with marketing expertise, and with Anderson for ideas concerning branch leaders.

“It’s a testament to �㽶��Ƶ that we are working together at Heartland Bank doing great things, though each of us has a different story of how we got here,” Karloff said.

By Jacilyn Bruns, a senior from Grand Island, Nebraska, majoring in Journalism

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