THE WOUNDS OF WAR LIVING UWC AFTER UWC - UWC-USA

S P R I N G 2 0 1 1
aleid scope
THE MAGAZINE OF UWC-USA, THE ARMAND HAMMER UWC OF THE AMERICAN WEST
Volume 41
THE WOUNDS OF WAR
The Legacy of Guatemala’s Violent History
page 9
Coming Home
UWC-USA as a Place for Our Best and Truest Selves
page 11
LIVING UWC AFTER UWC
Alumni Stories of UWC-USA’s Influence on Their Lives
page 12-13

PRESIDENT’S MESSAGE:
We’re almost 30! Somehow when we turned the calendar to 2011, the
proximity to 2012, and the College’s 30th anniversary, became very real to
me. This marker seems a good moment to update our alumni, parents,
and friends on some key events in the life of our school.
As I believe you all know, Peter Hamer-Hodges, who served the
school from 1983 to 2010 and was our distinguished graduation speaker
last May, departed for new adventures in his native UK. In many respects,
he exemplifies the life of service and the commitment of many of our faculty. It is not surprising that,
after long and distinguished tenures at UWC, other faculty members are also considering transitioning
to new opportunities such as writing, consulting, or retirement. In recognition of their extraordinary
service to students and the UWC movement, the board has created a transition fund to support longer
serving faculty members as they move to the next chapters in their lives.
There are cases where we will not be replacing these departing faculty members. In this era, when
we are juggling the challenge of the loss of value of our endowment from its peak in 2008 and facing
the anticipated loss of the Armand Hammer Trust in 2013, it is only responsible to contain costs wherever
we can. Teachers who will remain on the faculty have indicated a willingness to take on additional
responsibilities to make this possible. We will also seek to reduce non-teaching staff positions through
attrition over time.
What is important to me is that the giants who founded and shepherded this school and so many generations
of students go on to their next phase in life with honor, support, and celebration. I want you to
know we’re working to do exactly that. It’s also important that you know that we will be seeking to find the
next generation of great faculty members who can influence lives, participate in our intensely experiential
and residential program, and deliver high intellectual content in the classroom in vital and exciting ways.
Know that as we do all of this, we do so with a clear eye on our mission and on the welfare of our
students. Know that we are redoubling efforts, with considerable success and thanks to many of you,
to raise more financial support. Know that we remain focused on everything central to our important
purpose in the world.
As always, please let us know if you have questions. In the meanwhile, be prepared to honor the
pioneers and welcome the new adventurers.
With warm best wishes from Montezuma,
Lisa A. H. Darling
President
2
CREDITS
editor in chief
Elizabeth Morse
contributing editor
Emily Withnall MUWCI ‘01
designer
Danielle Wollner
contributors
Abuubakar Ally ‘12
Innocent Basso ’11
Omar Yaxmehen Bello Chavolla ’11
Gert Danielsen ’96
Aminata Deme ’11
Marie Dixon Frisch ’84
Cassandra Doremus ’11
Timothy J. Dougherty
Rodrigo Erazo ’12
Nofar Hamrany ’11
Ali Jamoos ‘12
Henrik Jenssen ’12
Pedro Monque ’12
Kevin Mazariegos Moralles ’11
Natalia Bernal Restrepo ’05
Julian Rios ‘12
Kate Russell
Jake Rutherford
Arjan Stockhausen ’11
Vichea Tan ’11
Elizabeth Withnall
Bereket Zekarias ’11
contact
UWC-USA
PO Box 248
Montezuma, NM 87731
USA
505-454-4200
publications@uwc-usa.org
Kaleidoscope is published biannually
by the UWC-USA Development Office,
for the purpose of keeping the extended
UWC-USA community connected.
feedback
Send an email to
publications@uwc-usa.org,
or post a comment online at
www.uwc-usa.org/read.
We look forward to hearing your
comments and critiques!
On the cover: UWC-USA students at the
Grand Canyon.
UWC-USA / WWW.UWC-USA.ORG
Photo credit: Timothy J. Dougherty
Photo credit: Arjan Stockhausen

Photo credit: Jake Rutherford
Alumni, parents, trustees, get-aways, employees, and friends have come
together this year to help broaden and deepen philanthropic support for
UWC-USA and close the funding gap that the school will soon face.
Led by the Annual-Fund
Challenge Committee, a group
of leaders who pooled funds
used to match gifts from other
supporters, the Challenge
matches gifts from those who
(1) become a Castle Club mem- Sebastien de Halleux ’96
ber and (2) double their previous
Annual-Fund gift.
KC Kung ’87
Challenge Committee members
committed a combined
total of $215,000 for the Challenge,
and the response was
strong. The Challenge was
met in early February, thanks
to the 132 people who made
qualifying gifts.
UWC-USA is very grateful Charles C. Wong ’84
to the Challenge Committee
Kenneth Yeung ’84
SPRING 2011
TABLE OF CONTENTS
THE 2010-2011 ANNUAL-FUND CHALLENGE
A Distinctly “HK” Alumni Event 2
Opportunity 3
Possession 4
Backpack 5
Grandmother 6
A Lesson 7
Writing the World 8
The Wounds of War 9
Music is a Conversation 10
Coming Home 11
Living UWC After UWC 12-13
How I Became a Clown 14 -15
Alumni Profiles 16 -17
for inspiring scores of others to dramatically increase their support
at a time when building our Annual Fund is essential to the school’s
future. We are also extremely grateful for the generous donors who
are stepping up to meet the
Challenge. These gifts will
help transition UWC-USA
to a more sustainable base
of philanthropic support
and strengthen the school to
fulfill its mission for generations
to come.
If you haven’t made your
Annual Fund gift yet, it’s not too
late! The Annual Fund, which
raises money for current-year
operations, ends on May 31. Support
it by making a gift online at
www.uwc-usa.org/give or sending
a check to UWC-USA Development
Office, PO Box 248,
Montezuma, NM 87731, USA.
The Annual-Fund Challenge Committee
Marc Blum, UWC-USA Trustee, Committee Chair
Tom and Beverley McGuckin, current parents
Benjamin Melkman ’98 and Alexa Melkman ’99
Bill Moore, former UWC-USA Trustee and Capital Campaign Chair
Michael Stern ’89, Distinguished Trustee
James and Sarah Taylor, alumni parents and UWC-USA Trustees
KALEIDOSCOPE / SPRING 2011 1

A Distinctly “HK” Alumni Event
Emily Withnall, MUWCI ’01
Communications
“How is UWC to remain relevant?”
This was one of the many UWC-themed
topics that came up during the Hong Kong
UWC-USA alumni barbeque, hosted by
Charles Wong ’84 last October on Middle Island,
Hong Kong.
The answers to
this question covered
vast ground,
but some of the
first alumni from
the 1980’s talked
at length about
the importance of
having mainland
Chinese students
regularly represented
at UWC-
USA. While regular
representation
of mainland Chinese
students remains
a long-term
ambition, they agreed that with China growing
in economic importance, it will be essential to
ensure this representation from China to anticipate
and further support the ideals of peace,
sustainability, and the bridging of cultures.
Charles Wong ’84, Kenneth Yeung ’84, Annie
Fung ’85, Fiona Siu ’86, and KC Kung ’87
count among the senior group of Hong-Kong
alumni very active in supporting and sustaining
UWC-USA, a group that has recently
established the UWC-USA Greater China
2
Photo courtesy of
Timothy J. Dougherty
While regular representation
of mainland Chinese students
remains a long-term ambition,
they agreed that with
China growing in economic
importance, it will be essential
to ensure this representation
from China to anticipate and
further support the ideals of
peace, sustainability, and the
bridging of cultures.
Foundation to facilitate support of the school
and scholarships for students attending the
school. In addition, three of these graduates,
Charles Wong, Kenneth Yeung, and KC Kung,
have taken a leadership role in fund-raising
for the school by
becoming part
of the Annual-
Fund Challenge
Committee for
the 2010-11 school
year. This committee,
composed
of alumni, parents,
and friends,
has pledged to
match gifts to
this year’s annual
fund from donors
who double their
previous gifts and
join the Castle
Club. More information
on the challenge can be found at
www.uwc-usa.org/annualfundchallenge.
This Hong Kong UWC-USA alumni gathering
was the second event Charles Wong has
hosted for UWC-USA. Charles’s dedication
to UWC runs deep: “UWC-USA was such a
powerful and important part of my life that I
am thrilled to be able to support the school
and to help foster connections among my fellow
graduates.”
Charles Wong ’84 and his mother
arrived in Hong Kong at the train
terminal in Kowloon from mainland
China when he was twelve years old.
According to Charles, this was during
a time when people from mainland
China were seen in Hong Kong as
coarse and ill-mannered. Charles was
tormented in school but nevertheless
excelled academically. In spite of his
lack of familial connections, which
were important and highly regarded
in Hong Kong society, Charles was
determined, against all odds, to go to
the best school in Hong Kong.
One day, he walked into an esteemed
school and asked to see the
headmaster. The headmaster happened
to be standing near the receptionist,
asked what he wanted, and
brought him in to his office. The
headmaster invited Charles to apply,
and he was admitted. While he attended
the school, Charles ran track,
swam, and played the violin—things
he still enjoys.
Charles attended UWC-USA because
of the opportunity and adventure
it offered. From UWC, he went
to Pomona College and studied liberal
arts. His first job was with General
Electric. He eventually attended the
Harvard’s Kennedy School, and during
his summer breaks he interned for
both McKinsey and Goldman Sachs.
Charles left school early and started
late so he could intern for eight weeks
at each of these prestigious companies,
and he remembers taking his
end-of-year exams on an airplane and
faxing them back to his professors.
Charles is now CEO and Chairman
of the Board at Global Flex Holdings
as well as a Director of Chi Capital.
Charles will be on campus in
April to participate in Alumni Weekend,
an annual event which brings inspiring
alumni back to campus to interact
with current students. He will
be joined by diplomat Laura Taylor-
Kale ’96, and conservationist Aurelio
Ramos ’91.
UWC-USA / WWW.UWC-USA.ORG

WHERE WE’RE FROM
Opportunity
Vichea Tan ’11
Cambodia
Working with AFESIP Cambodia (Acting for Women in Distressing
Situations) last summer was the most wonderful experience I
have ever had.
People have equal rights and the same value but unfortunately
some have been valued in terms of money. One of many problems
we are facing in our society is human trafficking. In Cambodia,
thousands of kids and women get into this problem every year.
AFESIP is working very hard to
rescue people who have been
traded. Many of them are still
young and have seriously suffered,
which makes it very hard
to go back and face the realities
of our society.
I spent five days working
in the AFESIP center. We were not allowed to stay overnight
because we were not familiar to the girls in the center. The first
time I entered the center I felt we were feared, and I saw that
there were some people who were trying to stay apart from our
group. We tried to make ourselves familiar so that we could work
with them well. We played some games, had a discussion about
food, and created a music lesson. After a few days of effort I could
feel the improvement by the way they interacted with us. Smiling
I used to think that I had very little
opportunity in my tiny world, but after I
met these people, I knew I had been wrong.
as they always do, they started to talk and were passionate in doing
the activities.
As it went on I started to learn about a 14-year-old girl who was rescued
a few months before we went to the center. I was showing the girl how
to play guitar and having conversation with her. While we were talking, I
asked her where she came from. She suddenly turned quiet, bending her
face down. I felt bad because I knew that I had done something wrong. At
the end of the day, before we left the
center, the girl came to me and gave
me a piece of paper. She told me in
the paper that she was also from the
place where I came from. She has
six younger brothers and sisters,
but her mother died four years ago.
She had been sold to be a prostitute
before she was rescued and sent to the AFESIP center. “I am so glad that
you all came and taught us a lot of things which make me really happy,”
she wrote, “and I really hope I will have another chance to learn how to
play guitar.” I was so touched by the letter.
I used to think that I had very little opportunity in my tiny world,
but after I met these people, I knew I had been wrong. After five days of
working in the center, we learned a lot from each other. I left Siem Riep
and returned home. I hoped that we made good memories for those girls.
Photo courtesy of Vichea Tan
KALEIDOSCOPE / SPRING 2011 3

WHERE WE’RE FROM
Julian Rios ’12
Colombia
Inspired by “Theme for English B,”
by Langston Hughes
FROM THE DEEP BOWELS OF
THE ROCK,
From the sacred heart of the mountain,
And from the wild arms of the
torrential river,
A voice like a sorrow is rising up to me.
With the blood of my people in his hands
And the burden of our eternal struggle
in his shoulders
My father Wiracocha through the wind
my name is calling.
My name and all the names,
My name and the names of my brothers
who died,
My name that is the rose of my pacha.
Although, I was born in a Spanish cradle,
In my blood indigenous strength flows.
The breath of my grandparents my
secret embraces
As one day from Mother Bachue a
muisca people was born.
4
Possession
Aminata Deme ’11
Senegal
Sometimes we can be blinded by a strong
and irrefutable sense of belonging to and
possessing our culture. Not only do we tend
to defend our culture, but we also love to
think of it or look at it as the most perfect,
the most authentic.
I believe there are times when we need to
challenge our convictions about our own cultures,
to accept and be open to the changes that
might benefit our societies.
Where I come from, some women are
still oppressed for the sake of culture and
tradition. I often think,
“I could be one of those
young women.” I am terrified
by that thought.
So much I would suffer,
prisoner of a society
with no mercy.
As a woman in that
culture, I would never
dare claim my rights in
my society. By the age of
sixteen, I would already
have been married by
force to a fifty-year-old
stranger. I would have
no say. As a woman, my
opinions would be neither
heard nor valued, my
choices would not be considered,
and no escape
would be possible. My
life would be reduced to
bearing children with no
strength, feeding a family
with no joy, forever being
the subaltern in a society
governed by men’s power.
How excruciating can
it be to undergo all this
misery, having society
trivialize it, with no ability
to act upon it? The traditions
and the community
make it impossible for
women to break free from
forced marriages. Mothers
and sisters can’t even help;
they do not get involved in
these decisions because
they are women. Even women who have experienced
similar situations often become so brainwashed
that when their daughters and sisters
suffer, and hope to be rescued, they lecture them
about being better wives. How paradoxical!
For so long, we have paid respect to ancient
traditions that have ignored the rights of youth
and children and oppress women in the grossest
and most outrageous forms.
It’s now the time to abolish all restrictive
and backward cultural practices that hinder
women’s and youth’s free will.
Where I come from, some women are
still oppressed for the sake of culture and
tradition. I often think, “I could be one of
those young women.” I am terrified by
that thought.
Photo credit: Arjan Stockhausen
UWC-USA / WWW.UWC-USA.ORG

Backpack
Nofar Hamrany ’11
Israel
It was August 2003, the end of summer break. I actually wanted it
to end. I was so excited to go and buy a new backpack, notebooks, colorful
pens, and all the other school supplies that I needed. My mom took
me to the shopping center in our town. The minute I got to the store I
started looking at all the
backpacks, trying on each
that we were breathing. I just looked at the school supply store. The
doors were broken, and all the backpacks had turned black. I couldn’t
believe that I was standing there yesterday trying them on. That night
on the news, they announced that twenty-nine people had been injured
and two people had
been killed.
In the background I could see the paramedics and
dozens of people crying and bleeding. And I knew all
of them; they were all from my town.
one of them. My mom
told me to choose quickly,
but I didn’t listen.
After two hours, we
went back home, and
I ran to my room and
started to put my notebooks in my new bag. My mom said I needed to
sleep because it was late. I went to bed, but I couldn’t sleep. I stayed
up all night thinking about school and being able to see my friends.
The next morning I woke up and wanted to visit
my friend. I called my mom at work to ask her. She
sounded angry, and she told me not to leave the
house. I asked her, “What’s wrong?” She didn’t answer
but just kept saying, “Do not leave the house.”
I was mad because I couldn’t visit my friend, and I
was embarrassed to call her and tell her that I couldn’t
come. I finally dialed the number, and she answered
so fast that I didn’t even have the time to speak; she
was already asking, “Are you OK? Where are you?”
I said, “I’m in my house.”
“Where are your parents?”
“My mom is at work and I don’t know where my
dad is. Why?”
“You didn’t hear it?”
I still didn’t know what she was talking about,
but I understood that something bad had happened.
She started to tell me that she heard a big “boom” an
hour ago. She looked out her window, and she saw
fire and a lot of smoke. There was a suicide-bomber
attack in the shopping center in our town.
I couldn’t believe it. I switched on the TV and saw
it all over the news. I called my dad to make sure
that he was ok, and then I started to call all the people
I knew. When I finished calling all my friends
and family to make sure that they were ok, I started
watching the news. There were interviews of people
who were there when it happened, and I recognized
all of them. In the background I could see the paramedics
and dozens of people crying and bleeding.
And I knew all of them; they were all from my town.
When my mom came back from work, we went
to my aunt’s house. We drove past the shopping center,
or rather what was left of it. The skies where still
black from all the smoke, and the smell was still in
the air. The smoky smell of fear blended in the air
A few days after that,
school started. I went
on the first day with my
new backpack, expecting
everything to be normal
again, but it wasn’t. For
the first week we just talked about the terrorist attack and how it affected
us. I was very excited to go to school, but after this attack I didn’t want to
talk about it. I just wanted to forget it happened, but I couldn’t. I still can’t.
Photo credit: Arjan Stockhausen
KALEIDOSCOPE / SPRING 2011 5

WHERE WE’RE FROM
Grandmother
Bereket Zekarias ’11
Ethiopia
She said she had lost eight of her children, was beaten by her husband
every day, and had suffered most of her life. When she told me these
things, all I could utter was, “Everything is for a reason,” but deep inside
I inquired, “Why? Why does she have to
go through all this injustice?”
I call her Abeye; she is my grandmother,
my guardian, and my second
mom.
“Don’t associate with boys; they are
evil. Promise me to keep yourself away
from them while you are in school.”
I guess she doesn’t want me to go
through the suffering she was forced
to bear.
“Getachew, Kebede, Belay, Ayele,
Zenebe, Neway, Abebe, Zelalem. I got used to letting them go. Every time
I got pregnant, I knew deep inside of me that I had to let go a person
inside my womb. Your grandfather was no help; he said I had a curse
which was responsible for the death of all of his children, but I never got
the courage to tell him that they were my children too and that I carried
them inside my womb for nine months anticipating seeing them alive.
Your grandfather even brought his child from another woman and told
me to raise the baby. I raised the baby like it was mine, first because I
didn’t have a choice, and second because I needed a baby that was mine.”
6
She took a deep breath as if to let all the lamentation out. Her eyes
are small, so very small that it’s amazing that she can see. I deduced
that the smallness of her eyes came from crying all the time, or from
When I feel depressed because I didn’t do well on a chemistry test
or I didn’t do a good job on my class presentation, I immediately
remember that I am an Ethiopian woman. What Ethiopian women
do best is beat all the odds in life. To fight for better treatment
and to fight for a happier and more fulfilled life is the battle of
Ethiopian women every day.
Photo credit: Arjan Stockhausen
the sunshine that was hidden from her while the whole world had the
chance to see the sun.
“God is good; he gave me your mother. I didn’t even name her
because I didn’t want to be cheated again. When your mother was
three months old, I went to church and begged God to make her live,
and it worked.”
She stopped to wipe away the tears that were rolling down her cheeks.
She kissed the ground and said, “Thank you God for giving me an opportunity
to have grandchildren. I can die now.”
That was one of the saddest moments of my life, not only because I
knew that my grandmother’s life was full of challenges but also because
it took me forever to realize what she went through to protect me. Her
gratitude struck me like a lightning bolt, because she is a woman who
keeps thanking God though she has little reason to do so.
When I asked what the happiest moment in her life was, she looked
me in the eyes and said, “I have had a lot of happy moments, dear; we are
responsible for creating our happy moments. Though my life was hard, I
have had magnificent moments that make my life worth living. The nine
times I gave birth to my children and when I saw their closed eyes and
heard their crying for the first time, I thanked God because he gave me
the opportunity to see these wonderful beings. The day you were born
was also one of the happiest moments of my life. Promise me that you
will study hard, promise me not to let others control you and take your
rights from you.”
I nodded, thinking “How does she do it? How can you be optimistic
when life treats you so badly?” In the end I comprehended that my grandmother
is one of a kind to hold this quality.
My grandmother and all women in Ethiopia keep me going every
day. When I feel depressed because I didn’t do well on a chemistry test
or I didn’t do a good job on my class presentation, I immediately remember
that I am an Ethiopian woman. What Ethiopian women do
best is beat all the odds in life. To fight for better treatment and to fight
for a happier and more fulfilled life is the battle of Ethiopian women
every day. Luckily I don’t fight the same fight; I fight easy things. Maybe
I can fight the battle for the ones who are too tired to do so.
UWC-USA / WWW.UWC-USA.ORG

A Lesson
Innocent Basso ’11
Tanzania
I grew up in a very strict Christian family. I was expected to do exactly
as I was instructed without questioning. Failure to comply with
these principles resulted in severe punishment from my parents. It is
for this reason that I developed strong abidance to certain precepts in
life. In addition, I always wanted to lead most of the activities I was involved
in because I could not afford to see something done differently.
Despite my strong attachment to the teachings of my parents, at
one point I had to deviate from the set of formula and actually do what I
personally thought was right. In my third year in
a seminary, back home in Tanzania, I was elected
the General Secretary of the Students’ Council.
My job was to organize and coordinate different
activities on campus. In one particular case, my
classmates agreed not to do a job they were assigned.
Considering the essential nature of the
job, I informed the school administration about
the situation, asking for assistance to make them
do it. My action offended my classmates, and it
was taken as an act of betrayal. Although I tried
to explain myself, they ignored me and decided to
teach me a lesson.
My classmates excluded me from all class
matters, and nobody was allowed to talk to me.
Offensive comments against me were spread all
over campus. I tried to ignore them, but the situation
got worse. Some of them began to insult
me verbally, and my personal belongings were
vandalized.
As the General Secretary, I could report them
to the seminary’s administration. According to
principles I grew up with, this is what was right
to do. Nevertheless, this option would unnecessarily
harm the student community because
it would result in the expulsion of many of the
students–even innocent ones. I believed that as
a leader my primary goal was to assure a fruitful
and enjoyable school experience for everyone;
therefore, reporting them was not an option. I
understood that anger was in control of my classmates.
It was difficult for them to accept that I
could “betray” my class and get away with it.
During this time, the whole student community
was watching me, waiting to see how
I was going to handle the situation. I was confused.
I did not like all the harassment I was
subjected to, but all the same, I was not ready
to lose members of our community. Luckily,
an alumnus visited the seminary, and I did not
hesitate to share my problems. He promised me
that he would help. He talked to my classmates
in a meeting that he did not let me attend, and successfully convinced
them to retreat from their mission.
I have become more flexible. I now know that there is always another
way to do something. I learned about my weaknesses, and I have
been made stronger. I appreciate the adventures that life has to give
because they broaden my perception and make me a better person. I
believe that what I learn from my experiences now are the tools for
overcoming greater challenges in the future.
I have become more flexible. I now know that there is
always another way to do something. I learned about my
weaknesses, and I have been made stronger.
Photo credit: Arjan Stockhausen
KALEIDOSCOPE / SPRING 2011 7

WHERE WE’RE FROM
Rodrigo Erazo ’12
Ecuador
Inspired by “Theme for English B,”
by Langston Hughes
“It’s going to be better.”
I guess not…
As I wake up at 4 am in “my” bed that I
share with my 8 siblings
As I take a shower with cold water, not
really in a shower, but with a bowl from
the kitchen
As I put on the same clothes that I wear
every day
As I go to the kitchen just to realize there’s
nothing to eat…
I walk out of there to find a job, to bring
something to eat to my home
At least a couple of dollars in my pocket to
buy some bread for my family
nothing…
Failure followed by failure… I’m tired of
trying the same everyday
I’m tired of watching my brothers going
to bed with hunger
I’m tired of watching my mother dealing
with my drunken father
I’m tired of being useless…
My father is no longer
At least my mother will wake up without
bruises on her face
And now off to the city, to find a
better life
I’ve been crying since my father died; even
though he beat my mother
I loved him…
I’m reading what I wrote
And I have a simple question:
Is it going to be better?
8
Writing the World
Omar Yaxmehen Bello Chavolla ’11
Mexico
Storms and earthquakes, special dishes
and exotic flavors, the warmth of the sand and
the cruel coldness of the hard rocks. Those
were some of the images that vibrated in every
surface of the dining room every night as my
parents told me countless stories about things
I never heard before. These and more of their
words kept resonating in my head while I slowly
returned to reality. I
found myself staring
at a blank piece
of paper in front
of me, a pen in my
hand.
These stories
came to life for me
in a way that was as
real as the words I
am writing. I write to live the unthinkable, to
teleport myself to the endless scenarios the
mind creates. I write because it keeps me alive,
makes me feel that the world can be sketched
beyond what can be seen with a simple glance.
Ideas turned into motion, motion turned
into ink, ink into capricious swirls that sank in
the fibers of a corroded paper. The idea became
the word, the word became the story. All those
stories that were bound to be told resonated as
echoes in my head; as the words flowed slowly
throughout the years, the pile of paper next to
my bed kept growing. I soon realized that the
q Omar with co-year Ivana Marincic.
Photo credit: Arjan Stockhausen
Storytelling was the way I
found myself living in the
1960s in that terrible storm
that my father used to recall
with angst…
stories were for me more than a hobby; they
were a lifestyle. I turned myself into a character
and lived my life as a story that I tried to tell
myself every day.
Storytelling was the way I found myself
living in the 1960s in that terrible storm that
my father used to recall with angst, and the
way I felt inside a building in inner Mexico
City after the 1985
earthquake in September,
when my
mother was helping
to coordinate
phone calls for the
only telephones
that were available
near the disaster
zone. It is amusing
to look back on those stories about elves that
my father used to tell me, remembering how
they became for me as tangible as any other
thing in this world. I soon realized that I wrote
because I wanted the world to make sense, because
words were the only way I could make
the world real.
And I am still sitting in front of a blank paper
while thinking of all the stories that could
possibly be written. Every bit I write makes me
feel that the world makes more sense to me.
Will it ever be completely clear? I hope not. I
want to keep trying to figure it out.
UWC-USA / WWW.UWC-USA.ORG

The Wounds of War
Kevin Mazariegos Moralles ’11
Guatemala
I was born at the end of Guatemala’s civil war. My family suffered
the cruelties of war for a long time. I was lucky to be just six-years-old
when the Civil War ended.
After a war, a country is never the same. Many things change. The
people’s minds are full of fear and pain. The wounds of my nation are
just starting to heal.
My story is about living in Guatemala. Guatemala is a third-world
country with one of the highest indexes of violence in the world.
I remember the
first time I was ever
robbed. I was 14 years
old. It was on a Saturday
morning, and
I was walking from
my mom’s coffee
shop toward my best
friend’s house. Like
every Saturday morning,
the streets were
crowded with people.
I was passing though
a parking lot when a
little boy around 10
years old came to me
and asked for money.
That day I was carrying
a lot of money
with me, but I didn’t
give any to him. Suddenly
he put his hand
on his pocket at the
same time he told me
it was not a question.
I was really lucky that
the boy was afraid of
me that time.
Drug Trafficking is
one of the major problems
in Guatemala. I
remember traveling
with my mother and
sister to a little village
where my mom had a
small business. It was
noon, and we were
going through a dirt
track off the principal
avenue. Suddenly one
guy came out from a
house just to the right
of us. To our left there was a little workshop, and two guys were standing
by a car. In just a second, the three of them pulled their guns out,
and, like in the movies, my mom turned almost immediately around.
She was nervous and really afraid. We left as quickly as possible. We
heard the shots in the distance.
They tell me the war is over. I don’t believe them. Each day people
get massacred by violence. People live with fear. You turn, and something
is happening. There is no way to escape. I live with fear.
They tell me the war is over. I don’t believe them. Each day people get
massacred by violence. People live with fear. You turn, and something is
happening. There is no way to escape. I live with fear.
q Chichicastenago, Guatemala, 1992. During the Guatemalan civil war, indigenous women sought out American clothing to avoid being
identified and targeted.
Photo credit: Elizabeth Withnall
KALEIDOSCOPE / SPRING 2011 9

WHO WE ARE BECOMING
Music is a Conversation
Pedro Monque ’12
Venezuela
One of the first things Markus Stockhausen said to my friends
and me during our preparation to perform with him in concert was
about expanding our window of musical appreciation. Markus is a
renowned German musician with abilities in composing, directing,
improvising, and performing trumpet solos. He initially came to
UWC-USA with the purpose of visiting his son Arjan, but in staying
here for a week as an artist-in-residence, he profoundly changed many
people in the school.
Our music teacher Ron Maltais arranged a concert and practiced
with all students interested in learning intuitive music with Markus.
Intuitive music, as Markus likes to call it, is basically music improvisation—but
with a special approach. I practiced for the concert with
ten friends, plus Ron. The time we spent with Markus learning how
to intuit music was both amazing and hard. In order to do a good job,
there was a high amount of concentration, energy, and creativity needed.
“Listen to the others all the time” and “Music is a conversation, and
you should only talk when you have something to say” were some of the
phrases Markus repeated often. One of the hardest parts for me was to
start playing in an atonal way (not in any particular key). I think that we
all felt that something wasn’t right the first time we did it.
The week went fast. We were practicing a lot, developing new skills,
and suddenly it was the concert day. The anxiety rose every second, but
q Markus Stockhausen performing with UWC-USA students.
10
Markus Stockhausen studied initially at the Cologne
Musikhochschule and is as much at home in jazz as
in contemporary and classical music. For about 25
years, Markus collaborated closely with his father,
the composer Karlheinz Stockhausen. Markus’s son,
Arjan, is a second-year student at UWC-USA.
Markus kept himself very calm and confident. The whole point of intuitive
music is to play what we feel in the moment and to make a musical
conversation out of it. There were no scores, just instruments and
enthusiasm. Before going on stage, we all meditated in a circle and tried
to connect. It worked.
The audience was waiting. We sat and started playing, trying to feel
the music from inside. For two periods of 15 minutes each we played.
The ending of the second period was very special because we were actually
feeling each other’s music.
At the end of our last improvisation, people started to clap intensely
as we left the stage, and we experienced an adrenaline
rush. It was hard to believe that we had reached that special state
of symbiosis. Afterwards,
Markus played with Kevin
Zoernig, a jazz pianist, and
Ralph Marquez, a drummer.
The trio played some
of Markus’s compositions.
It was stunning. The last
two pieces were played with
Amir Shemesh ’11, Israel,
who also added his great talent
to the trio with a saxophone
performance.
Then the time was
Photo credit: Arjan Stockhausen
over. We all said goodbye to
Markus. I felt proud of what
we accomplished, but overall
I felt immensely grateful for
the experience of working
with Markus, one of the best
musicians I have ever met.
I wouldn’t have had this opportunity
anywhere else, and
that week changed not only
my musical perception, but
everyone who was involved
in this experience. We will
never forget the time we
shared with Markus Stockhausen
and with each other.
UWC-USA / WWW.UWC-USA.ORG

Coming Home
Cassandra Doremus ’11
USA-Nebraska
Grit burns my eyes and dust coats my mouth. I am tired—no, I am
exhausted. I am exhausted beyond any point I have ever reached in my
eighteen years on this planet. I have spent the last fifteen hours on a
bus, and all I want is sleep.
It is pitch dark outside, and as we round that final
bend, Montezuma Castle looms overhead, glowing
in the night. Suddenly, we are all cheering. It has
only been five days, and yet it has been a lifetime.
In the last five days, I have seen both the best and the worst of humanity.
I have seen small children running in the streets toward homes
made of aluminum. I have seen a handful
of men wander through the desert
picking up the garbage left by desperate
men and women in a race to find a
means of survival. I have seen people
meant to represent justice insult these
same men and women. I have spent
the last five days in Agua Prieta, Sonora,
Mexico.
I am on a bus with fourteen other
people. Together, we have witnessed
so much. I feel close to these students,
though I hardly knew any of them a
week ago. We represent twelve different
countries across five continents.
Each one of us is an individual—completely
unique and different from every
other. And yet, here we sit, waiting intently
for the same thing: to round one
more bend and see our home.
The bus is somehow cold and stuffy
at the same time. We’ve all been breathing
each other’s air and smelling each
other’s sweat for far too long. I, personally,
have had a headache since we
passed through Hatch, New Mexico—
about five hours ago. My seat-mate has
just woken up from his fourth nap of
the day. His eyes are red from the strain
of sleeping on a bus, and he’s continually
rolling his shoulders to relieve the
I-sat-in-a-strange-position-for-threehours
neck cramp.
It is pitch dark outside, and as we
Photo credit: Kate Russell
round that final bend, Montezuma
Castle looms overhead, glowing in the night. Suddenly, we are all
cheering. It has only been five days, and yet it has been a lifetime.
We’ve been so far away from this place, and we’ve seen things I don’t
think any of us were ready to see. We’ve only lived at UWC-USA for
two months but it is home now. UWC—it’s a place where
two hundred students from every background imaginable
have come together and formed something incredible.
No matter where I come from, and no matter where
I go from now on, I will always remember this moment.
I will remember the luminous windows of the castle, the
cheers of my peers, and the rumble of the bus as it makes
its way up the hill. I know that I am a part of something
bigger than myself here. No matter how much I struggle at
UWC, I am surrounded by beautiful individuals, each with
the potential to change the world. I will always remember this sensation,
this feeling of coming home.
KALEIDOSCOPE / SPRING 2011 11

LIVING UWC AFTER UWC
Returning Home to Find My Path in Education
Natalia Bernal Restrepo ’05
Colombia
When trying to describe my life after UWC,
I immediately realize that there is definitely a
before and an after. Before I was accepted to
UWC, I always thought I would become a successful
lawyer, or perhaps a doctor. But then
my life was turned upside down. UWC challenged
everything I believed in, and questioned
all the choices I had made in my life, and the
choices I thought about making.
Photo courtesy of Natalia Restrepo
p Natalia Bernal Restrepo
I made a choice not very common among
UWCers. While all my UWC friends were applying
for colleges, taking SATs, and writing
admissions essays, I was booking my ticket
home. At home, I enrolled in a Colombian university
and started my studies in law school.
But something just didn’t fit. I was away from
my UWC community and felt as if I were living
someone else’s life.
I changed my career path and got my bachelors
degree in Political Science at Universidad
de los Andes. Still, I found very few challenges
in that career, and the classes were not the same
as the ones I had received at UWC. There was
a void in my life which no class was able to fill.
Upon graduation I thought I was headed for
an NGO or an International Organization, so I
started to seek my path there. I had remained
very involved with UWC by working as Vice
Chair for my national committee, but in living
12
away from the UWC environment it was hard
to pinpoint what I missed about that part of my
life. I had to return to my UWC experience to
find guidance.
I remembered my Satur-
day afternoons at the Santa
Fe’s Children Museum, tutoring
some of the small children
on campus, and helping
my classmates
with French, but
most of all I remembered
the
huge respect and
love I had for my
teachers at UWC.
Hence, I decided
to pursue a path
in education,
thinking that
perhaps I could
make students
feel the way my teachers made
me feel at UWC.
I began teaching as an intern
at Colegio Santa María in Bogotá—the
school I went to before
UWC. I taught Social Studies
to middle-school girls, and in
two days I realized that this was
what I wanted to
do with my life. Children and
teenagers need people who
will guide them and who want
to teach and bring out the best
in them in the classroom environment.
I fell in love with
being in the classroom and
having 30 girls in front of
me, with reading their exam
responses, and having them
enjoy history and question
their reality.
I am now getting my
masters in education and will
hopefully continue to teach
at my school. Maybe I will
even work at a UWC at some
point. But for now, I just want
to bring to my classroom the
cultural understanding and
awareness that I got in the classes in New
Mexico: the excellent writing skills provided
by English teacher Anne Farrell, the fun I
When trying to describe my life after
UWC, I immediately realize that there
is definitely a before and an after.
Before I was accepted to UWC, I always
thought I would become a successful
lawyer, or perhaps a doctor. But then
my life was turned upside down. UWC
challenged everything I believed in,
and questioned all the choices I had
made in my life, and the choices I
thought about making.
q Gert Danielsen
had with French teacher Julie Ham, the great
discussions with Spanish teacher Tom Curtis,
the patience and understanding taught by
Math teacher Shirleen Lanham, the learning
by doing with Biology teacher Fernando Mejia,
and most of all, the love and caring for all
my students that I learned from Economics
teacher Ravi Parashar.
Photo courtesy of Gert Danielsen
UWC-USA / WWW.UWC-USA.ORG

True Colors
Gert Danielsen ’96
Norway
When I left UWC-USA, I wanted to work
for the UN. Having arrived in New Mexico
with a plan to study medicine, the microworld
unfolding in Montezuma changed all
that. Naively, I asked my adviser Anne Farrell
to write me a reference for a job with the
UN. Anne knew this would be impossible for
an 18-year-old with no university studies, but
she also knew the importance of encouragement.
So she
wrote the ref-
erence, saying
that I “would
be an asset
to the UN, if
not now, then
immediately
after university.” Anne believed in me. I have
now been with the UN for four years, and I
am convinced it wouldn’t have happened
without UWC.
My career change from medicine to international
relations is merely symbolic of what
UWC did for me. UWC was all about finding
myself, finding an environment which
was inductive to a stronger identity. If you
have been in a room of red and orange for a
lifetime, how do you know that your passion
really is blue, green, or yellow—colors you’ve
never seen or you’ve been told do not exist?
UWC does that to
us—it exposes us
to the colors out
there, and we learn
which ones we enjoy
and which ones
we don’t, which colors
we feel are “us”
and which ones
are definitely not.
I became a Latin
America fan and a
Spanish-speaker,
a conflict resolution
enthusiast, an
environmentalist,
a vegetarian, an
openly gay man, a
volunteer, and a relativist,
embracing
the diversity of our
amazing world and respecting everything I
didn’t like. In a room full of colors, it is easier
to be different. No one really notices much:
you become “normal,” common.
Graduating in 1996, smitten by Aleyda
McKiernan’s Spanish classes, the merengue
show we did on Latin American and Caribbean
Cultural Day, and my new Latino friends,
I went home and literally looked up “Latin
I have now been with the UN for four years,
and I am convinced it wouldn’t have happened
without UWC.
America” in the pink pages of the phone book.
A couple of months later I found myself in the
Guatemalan forests working with the Norwegian
NGO “Latin America Groups.” I studied
International Relations and Spanish and volunteered
in a conflict management program
in Colombia. I taught Latin American dance
and engaged in student councils and NGOs
which promoted peace, social justice, human
rights, and environmental consciousness. I
worked with the Norwegian Peace Corps in
South Africa, did my MA in International
Relations and Conflict Resolution through
a Rotary World Peace Fellowship in Buenos
Aires, and conducted Empathy and Nonviolent
Communication workshops. In 2006 I
worked on the Norwegian Millennium Development
Goals Campaign before—I guess
I can say finally—I started working with the
UN in South Africa, 10 years after Anne had
written me that reference.
As we speak, I am starting a new job with
the UN in Yemen, where I will be working
on democratic governance, human rights
and gender equality. Studying Arabic and extremely
sensitive to the cultural shifts I will
be experiencing there, I am calm and feel
prepared. UWC-USA helped me adapt to, respect,
learn from, and enjoy our diverse and
fascinating world. I still carry many Norwegian
colors—ethnically, socially, culturally,
and politically. But like all of you, I am now so
much more. UWC helped me bring out the
true colors of my life.
Ali Jamoos ‘12
Palestine
Inspired by “Theme for English B,”
Langston Hughes
I’m seventeen.
Too young, some might say,
But the truth: what I have seen
Is more than most people have seen in a
life time.
What kind of human are you?
You may ask.
To tell the truth, nothing but the truth,
I’m like any other Palestinian.
We’re old men since the minute we
are born.
We have suffered, and gone through
catastrophes
Normal people won’t even dare to
dream of.
Like what? You may wonder.
A life of a thirteen-year-old child in my
country shall be the answer.
Getting arrested when you are only 13,
Thrown in a small dark cell for 5 days.
For what?
For throwing a stone at the occupant who
violated the rights of his city,
He was prohibited to see sun light for
three months,
To play with his friends, whom he
misses, but nothing can be done.
And now, do you still think that I’m
too young?
If you do,
How about the little kid who has been
through all that?
What do you have to say to him?
Tell me, because I can’t think of anything
fair to say to him.
Tell me, because I don’t know.
KALEIDOSCOPE / SPRING 2011 13

LIVING UWC AFTER UWC
How I Became A Clown
Marie Dixon Frisch ’84, Jamaica
Edited by Emily Withnall, Communications Coordinator
I was born one.
Folks think clowns are for kids, but I swear, adults need them a lot
more. All my heroes and role models have been murdered or assassinated:
Jesus, Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., Kennedy, and Lincoln. They
stood up for the kind of change I want to achieve, and they died for it. I
don’t particularly want to die yet. I have developed a way of working that’s
less confrontational. I tickle and hint instead of blaring the truth out loud.
In my youth, I was very straight-laced and proper. I always wanted
things to work properly, and I hated lackluster performance. I was also
not very tolerant of failure; it incited and challenged me to do better. Mostly,
I minded my own business. But there came times when I couldn’t
tolerate some situations, and I took action.
Later, I hated the way people divided the world into developed and
developing countries. Aren’t we all developing? As a medical student in
Germany, I joined the student governments in Göttingen and Lübeck
and set up seminars and workshops about medicine in the developing
world. To me it meant the whole world, although other people might
have interpreted the series differently. I also joined World University
Service after participating in a training session and was chosen as a
student board member.
I did my doctoral thesis in Zurich on a nationwide health campaign
that was a bit of a joke in the Swiss scientific community. But it fulfilled
its purpose, and I learned about prevention and quality control. I moved
on and set up a quality circle at a day clinic for children. I got a commendation
and a raise for it. However, along with getting my doctor’s title,
these were rare moments of professional pride as a doctor.
As a physician, I kept to the principle of recording patient histories and
chief complaints verbatim. They tell us to do that in med school. But people
say funny things, and doctors often paraphrase patient histories to make
them fit their diagnostic ruminatings and preconceptions. One woman,
a psychiatric patient with diabetic complications, kept insisting her chief
complaint was “the heat inside.” I had no clue what she meant. But I wrote
it down. My consultant later said I couldn’t write that because who knew
what “the heat inside” was? There was no such medical term. Which was
my point exactly; it was the woman’s complaint. If we don’t accept that
she knows her main complaint, who does? He thought I should have pri-
14
Marie Dixon Frisch attended Yale, then studied
medicine in Göttingen and Lübeck, Germany,
completing her doctorate at the University of Zürich
in 1998. She retired from medicine in 2003 and
later became a clown, writer, and English teacher.
She now lives in Norway and plans to work as a
communal clown in nursing homes, social and
medical institutions, and prisons.
oritised the referring physician’s problem with a diabetic control/management
plan. I thought to myself, “It’s no wonder people don’t get healthy
when we don’t even pay attention to what’s important to them.” The point
was lost on him, but it remains forever etched in the woman’s docket. My
tribute of respect to her. And to the truth of medical mysteries unsolved.
I came to see myself more as a therapist than a doctor. The latter is a
position of exaltation, the former one of service. A therapist is a servant.
A doctor prescribes; a therapist accompanies, supports. I loved psychotherapy
training and probably got more out of it than my clients did.
I went on a Patch Adams healing tour of Russia, visiting prisons. The
prison wardens got upset because they were afraid of losing control of their
juvenile detainees as a result of the clowning. I defused the tension at one
prison by handing the head lady a bar of melting Jamaican chocolate with
a comment in bad Russian and an apologetic tone. It saved the moment.
My clown has also manifested itself through political power. Returning
to Jamaica in 2007, over twenty years after UWC, I was appalled
by the state of the nation. With the support of a group of largely UWC
friends, I began a campaign to depose the government which had been
in power too long. But the government was only symptomatic; I also did
a lot of grassroots work to show people options and alternatives, working
with environmental groups and the organic movement, as well as doing
small-time clowning work.
Then I threw a snowball, which had an avalanche effect. My snowball
was suggesting people take the government to court over an environmen-
p On Patch Adams’ Healing Tour of Russia 2003 where we almost got banned for inciting JOY amongst the inmates and disturbance amongst the guards. A mushy bar of p
Jamaican chocolate softened the fronts.
UWC-USA / WWW.UWC-USA.ORG

tal issue. It was done by others and they won the case—the Pear Tree
Bottom Case. I doubt anyone besides a few select friends even realized I
threw the snow ball. It was one of those clown actions you do and tiptoe
away before the fall-out comes, giggling guiltily but gleefully all the way.
In connection with the same political issues, I upstaged the reigning
Prime Minister of Jamaica in her own court. I had asked for permission
to stage a demonstration against the Pear Tree Bottom development, and
permission was first delayed and then denied. But I had prepared all the
protest materials, including some self-composed protest songs. Shortly
after, I was asked to attend a meeting set up by PM Portia Simpson Miller
for political and NGO activists from the region. The PM allowed herself to
be an unthinkable 90 minutes late for the meeting; two or three hundred
delegates who had travelled for hours to get there were waiting, and while
we waited, I asked permission to lead the group in song. After ascertaining
my identity (i.e., nobody), they shrugged their shoulders and agreed.
I began with “We Shall Overcome.” They sang that readily enough.
Then I delivered my protest songs, getting them to join in the choruses.
The conference room rocked. And the tactic wasn’t lost on them. By the
time the PM came, the hall was abuzz. Many of her supporters signed the
petition I had taken along to prohibit the government’s planned exploitation
of the Cockpit Country, the next endangered area on our list.
After 9/11, my life fell apart. My first husband and I separated that
week. I started to re-examine my life, exploring possibilities. I was working
in child and adolescent psychiatry in Zurich at the time. I was really
good at play therapy and resource activation, client rapport. I took a
therapeutic magic course and, while there, made everyone laugh. In that
moment I remembered my clown. I realized that the clown was my core,
and the doctor and therapist were adjunct.
I had always wanted to be a good doctor. I had loved our family doctor
and wanted to emulate him. But the clown was never something I had to
become. I was a clown. I am a clown.
I moved out of hospitals and clinics and into the world because that’s
where sickness begins and can be prevented. I don’t believe we’ve understood
how life and health really work. I believe our medicine is clumsy
at best. Healing comes from within, and much of what we do prolongs
suffering instead of curing it. It became increasingly difficult to practice
p Meddling with a motor. A bit like medicine. p Clowning around.
medicine as prescribed by current standards, and giving it up was the
best decision I’ve made. I had been feeling the conflict of interest acutely:
being a doctor, I was dependent on other people’s suffering for my livelihood.
As a clown, I am independent. I also am able to do low-level interventions
that people don’t even recognize as therapeutic.
My current job working as an English trainer for unemployed Germans
manifested itself miraculously because I followed my heart and nose
and feet. I was handed the job on a platter and grabbed it. I do mostly selfworth
building, group and team building, fostering creativity and limitless
thinking and encouraging participants to create a better future. They think
I’m teaching them English. I make them do a lot, stretch them to capacity
and beyond, but they don’t notice. They think it’s all just fun and games.
I work as an undercover clown in different capacities and rarely do
open clown gigs at the moment. An undercover clown uses the power of
the moment; right action, pure intention and awareness are some of the
guiding principles I strive for. So I can’t foretell what I will do until I see
what needs to be done.
My job is to scatter seeds and to move on, let the wind do with them
as it will. I am good at validating others, clients, colleagues, and superiors
alike; it makes no difference to me. Strangers, too: a smile, a shared moment
of pleasure or suffering.
Looking back, we sometimes catch a glimpse of the impact of what
we have done. But I never have the feeling I can see the whole picture. It’s
not my job to hang on. I always have to let go, let go joyfully and gratefully
so things can take their course.
KALEIDOSCOPE / SPRING 2011 15
Photos c0urtesy of Marie Dixon Frisch

LIVING UWC AFTER UWC
Abuubakar Ally ’12
Tanzania
Inspired by “Theme for English B,”
by Langston Hughes
The instructor said
Go home and write
A page tonight
And let that page come out of you—
Then it will be true.
I doubt if it’s that simple.
I am seventeen, young, but old, born
in Migo-Dar.
I grew up there, went to school at Kino
One hour drive from there. Then here
To this college, amidst the canyons
of Montezuma.
Twenty-two hour flight.
I am the oldest student in my class.
The steps near the science building lead up
to the castle
Where I take the elevator, up to my room,
sit down and write this page:
It’s difficult to know what’s true for you or me
At seventeen, my age. But I think I am what
I believe, feel and consider,
My life, I hear you, hear me, we two, talk on
this page.
I like to eat well, sleep well, hang out with
friends, but how?
I like to enjoy my life, with my mom,
dad, siblings,
But where are they?
continued on page 17...
Alumni Profiles
Gio Bacareza ’89, Philippines, completed two
engineering majors in the Philippines and
went on to spend two years in Spain working
for Telefonica. An inspirational letter from a
high school teacher prompted Gio to return
home to help with Philippine technology development.
Gio spent three years with Microsoft,
moving on to support start-ups by working for
a local venture
capitalist where
he handled the selection
of investments
in locally
developed technology.
In 2006,
Gio brought innovations
from
Chikka.com, one
of his investee
companies, to
international markets in the US, Europe, and
Latin America. In 2009, he pitched and sold
the company to Smart Communications, the
largest mobile operator in the Philippines. Gio
now runs Smart’s Internet business. He says,
“My vision is to provide internet for everyone
in the country. I’ve always believed that technology
is the great equalizer. It promotes opportunity
and equal access to information and
education. One of the projects I’m very excited
about right now is providing internet to those
who cannot afford basic telephones.”
Gio also organizes rescue and relief efforts
such as those needed during the Ketsana
Typhoon flood in Sept 2009. He also helped
organize the citizen election monitoring group
during the Philippine general elections in
2010. Of his experience at UWC-USA, Gio
says “The fortunate chance gave me a sense of
responsibility to be an instrument for change
from which I have chosen my path and purpose
in life.”
Aurelio Ramos ’91, Colombia, earned a bachelor’s
degree in Economics from Colombia’s Universidad
de los Andes and a master’s degree in Environmental
Economics and Natural Resources
from the University of Maryland and the Universidad
de los Andes. He has worked with the
Andean Development Bank, the Biotrade Program
of the United Nations Conference of Trade
and Commerce, and the Humboldt Biological
Research Institute. Aurelio began working with
the Nature Conservancy in 2003 as Director of
the Northern Tropical Andes Conservation Program,
where he led his team to pioneer conservation
strategies through the use of innovative,
incentive-based conservation financing across
the Andean landscapes of Colombia, Ecuador,
Peru and Venezuela. He currently serves as the
Director of Conservation Programs for Latin
America, overseeing the Nature Conservancy´s
conservation investments and external affairs
work throughout Latin America.
Aurelio says, “UWC-USA influenced me
deeply. Think big: what can we do to change
the problems our world has? Be pragmatic: we
need to think globally and locally. Our community
work at UWC-USA is a good example
that allowed us to connect with the necessities
of our local community, and, through discussions,
understand what needed to happen at
a macro level. Peace: peace cannot be reached
if we do not balance everyone´s needs and expectations.
Having lived in a country like Colombia,
with its decades of violence, I know we
need to find projects and solutions that help
the most. Without satisfying basic needs, true
peace will not come. International understanding
is a principle for peace.”
After completing his education, Nobuki
Asahina ’93, Japan, joined Sony Electronics and
worked in an overseas position based in Singapore.
He soon realized that thanks to his UWC
experience, he found it easy to adapt himself
to local business
clients, employees,
and friends.
His job covered
both Vietnam and
Ukraine, and Nobuki
noticed that
his comfort with
other cultures
significantly enhanced
his business
career. Now
based in Miami, Florida, Nobuki looks after his
company’s Latin American operation.
Nobuki recalls, “When I look back my time
at UWC, I recall that it was a valuable experience,
but at the same time, a struggle to adapt
myself to the ‘global society’ of UWC. I was
16 UWC-USA / WWW.UWC-USA.ORG

not so confident or even sometimes confused
in front of all the different behaviors, cultures,
races, and people around me. However, now I
can proudly say that it was an inevitable step for
me to enter the world, to change myself from
a domestic Japanese fielder to a global player…
UWC opened the door to the world for me.”
Amie Ferris-Rotman ’98, USA, graduated with a
BA and an MA in Russian Studies and Literature
at University College London. She went
on to become a journalist and now works as
a foreign correspondentcovering
political news
at Reuters in
Moscow, focusing
on human rights
and the Islamist
insurgency in the
North Caucasus.
Amie says that
“there is nothing
more rewarding
and adrenaline-filled than getting a front-row
seat at world events as they unfold.” Her work
engages her all over Russia and the former Soviet
Union, and she regularly ventures into
the violence-wracked Muslim North Caucasus,
where her job is to tell the world firsthand
about the plight of the people there. She
reports that the tiny backwater is full of cultural
gems and regularly makes world news
for its violence, and Amie hopes that the news
helps people everywhere realize how important
it is to combat racism, extremism, and
poverty. Amie says, “Being at UWC—two of
the most treasured years of my life—made
me think hard about how other people across
our globe live, and gave me the drive to tell
others about it in an objective way. That is why
I became a journalist.”
Ryan Richards ’02, USA, majored in International
Development and minored in Spanish
and World Religions at Juniata College.
He spent three years living in Latin America
working as the Director of External Relations
for the Asturias Academy, a human rights
school in Guatemala, where he oversaw the
creation of the organization’s fundraising
and volunteer programs, as well as serving on
the Board of Directors of Reading Village, a
US nonprofit creating a culture of reading in
Guatemala. Ryan went on to receive his MPA
in Nonprofit Management from New York
University’s Wagner School of Public Service.
Ryan currently serves as the Executive Director
of Nourish International, a network of
25 college chapters engaging US students in
supporting locally-grown development initiatives
abroad.
A believer in the transformative power of
cross-cultural exchange, Ryan seeks to support
the next generation of change-makers
in acquiring the tools they need to solve society’s
most intractable problems. Ryan says,
“Like so many of my peers, the UWC-USA
experience catalyzed me into a global citizen.
It brought home for me, on a visceral level,
the equal value of all people, and that awareness—of
equal human dignity and dis-equal
access to basic needs—is one of the key motivators
behind my work.”
James Byrne ‘03, USA, attended the University
of Texas at Austin and graduated with a
BS in Biomedical Engineering. He is currently
enrolled in a joint MD/PhD program at the
University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.
As a graduate student, he is working with an
academic and industrial team on developing
medical devices for the treatment of pancreatic
cancer. James reports, “Pancreatic cancer is
one of the most lethal cancers, with a five-year
survival of less than five percent of the patients
diagnosed. Better therapies are needed to improve
the management of this disease, and we
hope to create technologies that shift the paradigm
in the treatment of pancreatic cancer.”
Of his experience at UWC-USA, James
says it “made me aware of the grand challenges
that we face as a world, including disparities in
health care, energy, clean water, among many
others. My interests are in biology and medicine,
and it was my experience at UWC that
guided me to apply my interests to tackle the
disparities in health care through low-cost, effective
strategies for the treatment of disease.”
If you would like to be featured in an upcoming
Kaleidoscope issue, or if you’d like
to nominate another graduate, please email
publications@uwc-usa.org.
continued from page 16...
I hear my friends,
I hear them saying, “My mom is annoying,”
“I love my dad,” “Your brother loves you.”
But what’s Dad, Mom, and Brother to me?
A puzzle.
As I came out of her womb, crying, off
she went,
To her heavenly father. When I grew up,
I heard the world saying,
“He passed away before the birth of his
first born.”
Oh! Me.
I hear my age mates,
I hear them saying, “Enjoy your life, for you
are a teenager.”
“Too young to work,” they say.
But I hear my life,
I hear it saying, “Work hard, Jamal, for you
are old.”
“A father of two children,” my life adds.
“What? A father? Two children?” I ask.
“Yes,” my life roars, “One older than your
mom, one younger than you.”
Oh! My grandma, my niece.
Through ups and downs, we went.
Your inspirational smiles
Strengthened me.
Harder and harder I worked, in
OUR SERVICE.
For it’s you, only you, the beauty of my life.
I hope that you love me, as much as I
do you.
KALEIDOSCOPE / SPRING 2011 17

Kaleid scope
VOlUME 41
UWC -USA
Post Office Box 248
Montezuma, NM 87731-0248 USA
(505) 454-4200 www.uwc-usa.org
RETURN SERVICE REQUESTED
REUNION 2011
July 29 - August 3
Experience the nostalgia of Montezuma Castle alongside
your classmates. Fuse old memories with new and
rekindle your bond with the UWC spirit!
This year we will be celebrating the classes of 1986,
1991, 1996, 2001 and 2006, but all class years are
welcome to attend.
Please go to www.uwc-usa.org/reunioninfo for details
and 18 registration.
Nonprofit Org
US Postage
PAID
Permit No 42
Albuquerque, NM
UWC makes education a
force to unite people, nations,
and cultures for peace and a
sustainable future.
ENVIRONMENTAL BENEFITS
of using post-consumer waste fiber vs. virgin fiber
The following resources were saved by
using 1312 pounds of Reincarnation Matte
(FSC), made with an average of 100%
recycled fiber and an average of 60% postconsumer
waste, processed chlorine free,
designated Ancient Forest Friendly and
manufactured with electricity that is offset
with Green-e® certified renewable energy
certificates
8 trees preserved for the future
236 lbs solid waste not generated
807 lbs of greenhouse gases prevented
3,885 gallons water saved
2,500,000 BTUs energy not consumed
UWC-USA / WWW.UWC-USA.ORG
Calculations based on research by Environmental
Photo credit: Jake Rutherford
Defense and other members of the Paper Task Force.