Features

Collegial Creativity: A Faculty Roundtable

Collegial Creativity faculty roundtable

What is the role of creativity in steering the work of dancers, poets, scientists and activists? What follows is a condensed and collated conversation with four Pomona professors from different fields, drawing on themes about the practice and teaching of what it means to create.

Esther Hernández-MedinaEsther Hernández-Medina, assistant professor of Latin American studies as well as gender and women’s studies, is a feminist academic, public policy expert and activist from the Dominican Republic.


Jane LiuJane Liu, professor of chemistry professor, is also CEO of BRT Biotechnologies, a small-molecule drug discovery startup she co-founded with fellow Sagehen Greg Copeland ’96.


John PenningtonJohn Pennington, associate professor of dance, is the artistic director of Pennington Dance Group and ARC (A Room to Create) Pasadena after a career as a performer and teacher with the Bella Lewitzky Dance Company.


Prageeta SharmaPrageeta Sharma, Henry G. Lee ’37 Professor of English, is the author of six collections of poetry, including Onement Won, to be published in September. She is a recipient of a 2025 National Endowment for the Arts Creative Writing Fellowship.


Q: Welcome, all. We’re interested in how you think about creativity. Is it innate? Is it a practice, something that can be summoned?

Pennington: I think this has been a question of the ages. You’ve often heard about “the muses descending” and all of these ways that people are creative, and no one can put their finger on it. Over the years, particularly working in a liberal arts college and through my own investigation and curiosity, I’ve found that creativity lies a lot in neuroscience.

There’s the prefrontal cortex; it’s the executive director. There’s also the “fight or flight” response of the sympathetic nervous system. So there’s a saying that creativity comes in the three B’s—the bed, the bath and the bar. If you look at the bed, the bath and the bar, those are three places that you relax and you feel safe, for the most part. The prefrontal cortex kind of shuts off. The “fight or flight” response is not active, either. A lot of artists have said that they have their most creativity before falling asleep or when they wake up, and that’s when the brain is partly shut down.

Q: That reminds me that Paul McCartney [of the Beatles] has said the melody of “Yesterday” came to him in a dream. Have any of you had ideas or solutions come to you that way?

Liu: I don’t know if I’ve solved the problem in my dream but when you’re sort of dozing, something might come in there. I actually will make sure I get up and go write it down. Maybe that’s the key, [since] I’d like to  sleep … I don’t want to stay up and work it out, but I don’t want to forget it, either!

Q: Jane, many of us think first of the arts when we think about creativity. But what is the role of creativity in the sciences?

Liu: Whenever you’re doing scientific research or trying to progress science forward, you’re never doing the same thing someone else did. It always has to be something new. You need to think: What is the question I even want to ask? That requires creativity. Then, how are you going to approach answering that question or testing your hypothesis? You and I could ask the exact same question but take two completely different approaches based on what inspired us at that time, what our background is, what we read that morning or the conversation we had down the hall. So pulling these different pieces together—and then fitting that into progressing science and doing scientific research—that, to me, is a creative process.

Human-Centered Design class visualization lab

A visualization lab from the Human-Centered Design class

Design as Process for Impact

What is The Hive?

The Hive, more formally known as the Rick and Susan Sontag Center for Collaborative Creativity, aims to foster collaboration and innovation for students of the Claremont Colleges.

What does The Hive do?

The Hive is a design and innovation center that hosts courses and activities that are exploratory, collaborative, and experiential, including…

  • full-credit courses in Human-Centered Design and Impact Innovation
  • workshops and events that introduce alternative ways of engaging with the liberal arts
  • makerspaces where students are given access to materials for building, prototyping, sewing, screen printing, woodworking, and music production
  • courses from around the 7Cs

Who does The Hive work with?

The Hive offers human-centered design collaborations with a diverse variety of community partners, ranging from The LA Department of Health to LAist Public Radio and StoryHouse Ventures.

Get your organization involved!

Students at The Hive

Fred Bolarinwa (HMC ’25), Janny Wu (PZ ’25), Michelle Tran ’24, Cece Malone ’24

Q: Esther, what are some of the ways you experience creativity in the social sciences?

Hernández-Medina: The area where I use creativity the most is in my teaching. Especially during the pandemic, I really rethought and retooled all my classes. Pomona’s Information Technology Services and The Claremont Colleges Center for Teaching and Learning had all these workshops, and I took almost all of them. One way is putting together digital books: We use Pressbooks to collect students’ class papers. It makes them feel empowered as authors: “Oh, wait, I am publishing, this is so cool.” Some use the link in their graduate school applications. I also sometimes use the link to their papers in the digital book when I’m writing recommendation letters for them. The students are the ones who come up with the title for the book, the subtitles, the art for the cover. So that’s another way of making them reconnect with their creativity. In some of my classes, the final project is now a podcast about their papers, after learning how to produce and edit podcasts at The Hive.

Q: Prageeta, as a poet, how do you draw out creativity in your students?

Sharma: For me, creativity comes from reading and teaching and community and attachment. What is so much fun for me is this class on the theme of diaries and daybooks that I’m teaching now. My late husband was married prior to me, and he left me his first wife’s diary she had kept for many years in the 1990s before she died in 1998. She was a really stunning person and it’s a beautiful diary. He said, “Please write about her if you feel compelled to.” I also have his writings that he left me, notes for me to read after he passed. So in class we started talking about what diaries mean to us, what kind of writing we find there, and what we hope to imagine for ourselves with private writing. I try to bring questions and subjects and work I’m engaged with to my students, to think and work and share interests together. We nurture, I think, a safe classroom that becomes sacred to our writing and to our ideas of ourselves.

Book, Grief SequenceQ: You’ve been able to keep writing poetry at such difficult times in your life, publishing the collection Grief Sequence following the death of your first husband, Dale Sherrard, to cancer in 2015. You tragically lost your second husband, Mike Stussy, to cancer in 2023, and your upcoming collection Onement Won includes poems you wrote during his illness. It’s so common for people to try to shut everything out. Did you will yourself to continue writing? Or was it a form of therapy?

Sharma: You know, I feel lucky that Mike was so supportive of my writing poetry. He was always trying to make room for it even as we were in a caregiving situation. But I wanted to document my time with him, too. I see poetry as a record, and that it has a dailiness to it that is sacred.

Q: I’m often surprised at how many young people have suffered losses, a parent or a friend. Does sharing your experience bring out things the students may not have fully expressed before?

Sharma: Yes, students have disclosed to me personal loss, and what I hope to do is just to make them feel supported as best that I can. We think about the tradition of the elegy, the eulogy, the ode. We think about poetic forms as holding so much for them.

John Pennington teaches beginner dance students

John Pennington teaches beginner dance students

Q: Several of you have mentioned the idea of a safe place to create, a safe place for students to be in general. John, tell us your thoughts on that.

Pennington: When I am teaching beginners, I know I have to eliminate the fear of them thinking that I’m going to make them dance. That wall is up immediately because they hear “dance” or “movement” and say, “I’m not a dancer.” But the feedback and what they tell other students is that this class is very safe. I know what that means.

I get at beginners through problem-solving, and part of that is improvisation. One of the first exercises is to walk anywhere in the room and then sometimes I guide them and tell them to change directions. Can you walk at a different level? Can you walk high or low? And already we’re addressing part of the art form, and that is space design, motion design and floor design.

You put limitations on that creativity, or what can get produced within that problem-solving. Because what happens in any art form, when you tell people, “Just go do anything you want,” it is frightening. You need entry points and guardrails, and you need to know where you’re headed. Hopefully that becomes something that’s embodied in the students so that they say, “What if I went up or down, or did a turn here?” We’re trying to put a language to movement and identify some of those movements so that they have a toolbox. During the semester, they get more and more comfortable. They know that I’m not going to ask them to put their leg up over their ears.

Q: I’m hearing again and again about safety, community, collaboration. Esther, you’re the co-founder of a group called Tertulia Feminista Magaly Pineda, a monthly gathering of Dominican feminists and activists, and you’re also involved with the work of Josefina Báez, a Dominican artist in multiple genres who developed a method she calls “performance autology.”

Hernández-Medina: Performance autology is a way to harness your creativity in whichever way you express it. It might be as an artist, but it might be as an intellectual or an activist. The output is different, but you are still creating something.

[Báez] also emphasizes that you are creating a work of art with your life, and that includes taking care of your health and taking care of yourself while doing art. Part of the reason she founded the group was because she was very concerned about the fact that many artists are socialized to believe that they should do art despite themselves. It’s this whole myth about having to be the tortured artist to actually be able to create. And she was like, “No, no, it’s the opposite. You need to take care of yourself, so that your art is sustainable, and so that your life is sustainable.”

Michael O'Malley at Chan Gallery during the closing reception of his exhibition.

Michael O’Malley at Chan Gallery during the closing reception of his exhibition.

O’Malley’s “Headless Object” Exhibit

A Professor of Art at Pomona, Michael O’Malley has focused his work on engaging the aesthetics and conventions that shape the built environment. His winter exhibit at the Chan Gallery reflects his belief in art as agency—that we all create from a position in which we “make choices and exert control over the material world.”

 

My exhibit tests out the possibility that, like objects, I am more akin to process: emerging, changing, disappearing. The ‘exhibition’ changes each day. Sometimes a new form is added. Other times a rearranging or a removal. Arrangements of flowers echo this continuum of change as a practice of engagement and witness.”

Q: Jane, what about teaching science students to think creatively and in
a safe environment?

Lane Liu in her laboratory

Lane Liu in her laboratory

Liu: I still am figuring that out, because if you’re just saying, “Just do whatever you think of,” that could cause an explosion.

I think one of the challenges in science is you have to be able to understand some fundamental information first or know how to carry out some techniques. So there is a little bit of, “Know these facts; know how to carry out this protocol,” where I don’t think there’s a ton of creativity there. But you need that first stage to then be able to say, “Now just let your mind wander and be open.” Once you have a foundation, you can start thinking about creativity.

Q: I’m reminded that there is creativity in business, too. Besides being a full-time chemistry professor, Jane, you’re the co-founder of an early-stage startup, BRT Biotechnologies, in the area of drug discovery.

Liu: We are making a very specific class of small molecules called macrocycles. We’re trying to make large collections of these macrocycles to then sell to a pharmaceutical company or another biotech company, so that they can then find the next big thing.

Just being able to talk about and share the vision with others is a very creative process. There’s that 30-second elevator pitch and there’s that 20-minute deep dive you might prepare. There’s the website you might put together. There are all of these different audiences. And it’s constantly this creative process of, “How do I talk about what we’re doing in a way that gets other people excited or understanding what I’m feeling and understanding?” No one thing works. It’s a different sort of pitch if I’m talking to someone who has a background in biotech startups, versus someone who’s just excited about the science., versus someone who has no idea about small-molecule drug discovery,  versus someone who really just wants to know about the return on investment.

Q: Let’s close with a question about everyday creativity. There was a recent book by music producer Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being, that was a No. 1 New York Times bestseller. You don’t end up on the bestseller list for weeks and weeks because only artists are interested. Is that something you all believe—that everyone, not just the artist, is a creative being?

Pennington: I absolutely do. How do we get through the world without creativity? It’s about acknowledging it and giving yourself time to honor it. I don’t think many people who have been on one track their whole life have given themselves time. You know where it happens? It happens in retirement. All the hostels, all the painting classes, because they didn’t have time or they didn’t think they had time. You look at The New York Times bestsellers, there will be a book about creativity almost every year.

I do believe that everyone is creative, and that there are acts you can take every day. It’s about a moment in improvisation, about a different decision. It’s as simple as driving home a different way and seeing something new. It’s going to call upon a new response in the brain and challenge your senses. It’s stopping and allowing room for something else.

Serena Lin

Serena Lin ’25

With Uplift Notes, this Sagehen wants to counter isolation for seniors—and maybe even slow the progression of Alzheimer’s.


Connection? There’s An App For That

How Neuroscience Research Can Inform Intergenerational Conversation

By Lorraine Wu Harry ’97

In an age of pervasive social isolation, Serena Lin ’25 thinks that cultivating connection through conversation is something that’s still very much in the cards.

Her cards are called “Uplift Notes,” and she’s sold more than 200 boxes of them. A neuroscience major, she tested her deck on several hundred people of all ages, with a particular focus on bridging the generational gap between young adults and senior citizens, a group particularly susceptible to isolation and loneliness.

At Pomona, Lin studies Alzheimer’s disease, which has afflicted both her late great-grandfather and her great-aunt. She says that her work has helped her realize that Alzheimer’s treatment is not just about diet and medication, but social engagement.

During her sophomore year, Lin enrolled in a human-centered design course at The Hive, a design center at The Claremont Colleges (see sidebar on page 24). This class, and the mentorship of Hive executive director Fred Leichter, provided the support to create Uplift Notes to help facilitate more social interaction.

To develop the product, Lin consulted with several neuroscience faculty and alumni experts who gave her insights on the complexity of Alzheimer’s, including her thesis advisor and Assistant Professor Jonathan King, Professor Karen Parfitt and Daniel Gibbs ’73, author of A Tattoo on my Brain: A Neurologist’s Personal Battle against Alzheimer’s Disease. Her ongoing testing of the game has included working with Lyn Juckniess ’74 at Pilgrim Place, a retirement community in Claremont. Uplift Notes also has been used at Pomona’s Alumni Weekend and Bridging the Gap, a program Lin participated in that addresses religious and political polarization.

Uplift Notes game

Uplift Notes game by Serena Lin ’25

Lin is now working on a version of the toolbox specifically for individuals with neurological challenges such as Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s disease. The 2.0 edition is part of what’s driving her senior thesis on social engagement for Alzheimer’s patients, with a focus on trying to reduce feelings of anxiety and loneliness.

Her ultimate desire is to get the toolbox into the hands of as many Alzheimer’s support groups, hospitals and senior centers as possible. But she also hopes that people of all ages and backgrounds will make use of Uplift Notes as a social engagement tool that’s “good for your well-being, longevity and brain health.”

 

Gaming the System

Joe Osborn and Don Daglow

Don Daglow ’74 has earned much acclaim and multiple awards—including an Emmy—for designing some of the earliest video games in a range of different genres, including arguably the world’s first role-playing game (RPG), the first world-building game, and the first graphical massively multiplayer online role-playing game (MMORPG). Indeed, you can draw a straight line between many of his contributions and blockbuster games like “Roblox,” “Grand Theft Auto” and “Minecraft” that help fuel an industry that rakes in nearly $200 billion in annual sales.

✱ Confused by all the acronyms? See glossary at the bottom of the page.

This spring Daglow jumps onto the SageCast podcast for a wide-ranging conversation with  Pomona Associate Professor of Computer Science Joe Osborn, who—in addition to having an MFA in game design—conducts research on artificial intelligence and its impact on interactive systems like video games.

Osborn spoke with Daglow about some of the design pioneer’s favorite projects and how the medium has evolved to become a catalyst of creativity for hundreds of millions of people around the globe.

(Please note that this interview has been edited for length and clarity.)

Joe Osborn and Don DaglowOsborn: Before you got to Pomona, what were some of the earliest experiences that felt “creative” for you?

avatarDaglow: My original goal when I was in sixth or seventh grade was to be a writer, then a novelist, then a playwright. In high school I was writing plays and had some things performed, and was very much set on that goal, so when I came to Pomona I already had a vision of wanting to do something in theatre. As a sophomore I saw a really innovative production of “The Taming of the Shrew” that just made my head explode in terms of what theatre could be.

Osborn: In the last couple of decades there’s been a bit of a moral panic around video games—some educators, parents and members of Congress believe that they stifle creativity and that kids spend too much time in front of the screen and can’t think or imagine things for themselves. How do you feel that video games can inspire creativity in yourself and others?

Daglow: There’s no question that games can inspire creativity in the same way that great writing can. When I was a kid I read Dr. Seuss books and then started writing my own, styled after [him]. I grew up in a family where I was very loved, but also where it got very loud and combative, so retiring away to books and games was part of my defense against the world. It’s a place you can go that can give you comfort and perspective, and open up great wide vistas.

Osborn: This makes me think about some of the specific sources of inspiration you’ve drawn from in your work, including “Dungeons and Dragons” (D&D)—also the subject of moral panic in the ’70s and ’80s. What inspired your interest and embarking on the project of making a “D&D” game while at Pomona?

Daglow: I started out making games by chance. At the time computers were really only accessible to faculty and upperclass students majoring in math and the sciences. But in 1971 [Math Professor] Paul Yale and Jim Cowart ’73 got a grant from the Sloan Foundation and put two computer terminals in the lobby of Mudd-Blaisdell. One morning I walked in and heard the terminals making a clickity-clack kind of sound, and [the folks there] said, “Oh, hi! Want to learn how to use the computer?” You could interact with and play games on it, which [I loved] as a theatre person.

So, before “D&D” came along, I’d been writing games—and plays—at Pomona for several years. For my senior play, Pomona theatre majors had other projects they were committed to, so I had actors join from “Strut and fret” at the other five colleges. Fast forward a year after we graduate, and these actors have fallen in love with this new “D&D” game, and I got a call one day to play. I go, and my brain just explodes [thinking about] all the things this could be. At that point, it wasn’t that I wanted to write the “Dungeon” game. It was that I couldn’t not write it.

Language­—and expression—is how we as individuals take our emotional experiences and translate that into something that registers with someone else.”

-Don Daglow

 

Osborn: There’s a lot of energy right now around large language models (LLMs), but they make content in a very different way from the interactive fiction of the past. How do you feel that [LLMs] compare to the kind of stuff people were doing on computers in the 1980s?

Daglow: I’ve got a fair amount of experience with LLMs, and it’s really apples and oranges. When I was learning to program at Pomona, I actually wrote an early chatbot called ECALA. I treated it like a game [of] trying to fool the player into thinking they’re talking to a real person—and what LLMs do is allow the computer to fool the player much longer than we could. Ask [an LLM] to write a 500-word story … and you can see the standard story-beats it’s trying to recreate. But it feels like it was written by a human being who’s way too self-important and trying too hard.

Compared to what we had 50 years ago, [AI today is] a hell of an accomplishment, and there are certain ways in which it’s been a useful tool that can save a lot of time for people. I think there have been some good examples of games that have been enhanced by AI: if it’s done selectively, you can get some very nice “non-playable character” interactions that add more depth. The problem is business people start thinking that you can take that good idea being dropped into places selectively and start saying “what if I put it everywhere?” And that’s not really how it works. Ultimately the chemistry that goes into human creativity is different, but we should expect machine creativity to continue to improve.

Osborn: There’s always that tension of whether thought prefigures language or language prefigures thought. In the ’70s and ’80s the former paradigm was dominant, and now we’re in a world where it seems like many people
believe that a language machine also knows and understands things. It’s an
interesting debate.

Daglow: This makes me think of my playwrighting advisor Steve Young. He would always say that passion and emotion are what drive our lives and, therefore, our stories. Language and expression is how we as individuals take our emotional experiences and translate that into something that registers with someone else.

He would say, “Give somebody an idea, and maybe they’ll remember it until Monday, but make somebody feel an emotion, and they can’t help but remember it on Monday.” In fact, maybe they can’t stop thinking about it for weeks, months or even years. If you think about movies that hit you hard, or a book that changed how you look at things, that’s because the emotion was translated into language, which conveyed the power and the relevance to an individual. In 50-plus years of leading teams and producing video games of all kinds, that perspective has helped almost every single day of my career, which is why I feel such gratitude to Dr. Young. What a gift.

A brief history of consoles

* Years represent  U.S. release dates

Atari 2600 1977

Atari 2600, 1977

As one of the first systems with interchangeable cartridges that let you play more than one game, made the medium viable for home use (Units sold: 30M+)

Left, NES (1993). Right, Game Boy (1989)

Nintendo Entertainment System (NES) and Game Boy

Nintendo Entertainment System (NES), 1983

Alongside its 1991 sequel SuperNES, played a key role in kick-starting gaming, with its directional “D-pad” becoming widely adopted by other platforms (Units sold: 62M)

Nintendo Game Boy, 1989

Ushered in the birth of the portable gaming device (Units sold: 119M)

Sony PlayStation and PlayStation 2

Sony PlayStation and PlayStation 2

Sony PlayStation, 1994

Introduced 3D graphics and CD-quality sound, as well as more narrative-driven titles (Units sold: 102M)

Sony PlayStation 2, 2000

Popularized the idea of consoles as entertainment hubs, with a DVD player and internet collectivity (Units sold: 160M)

Nintendo Wii (left), Switch (right).

Nintendo Wii and Switch

Nintendo Wii, 2006

Spearheaded the gesture-based interface, spurring further research in augmented reality and virtual reality (Units sold: 101M)

Nintendo Switch, 2017

Revolutionized the “hybrid console” both for portability and home systems (Units sold: 146M)

Roots of Utopia

Utopia video game

Published eight years before “SimCity,” “Utopia” was developed for Mattel’s 1979 Intellivision console and later recognized by Guinness World Records as the first simulation video game.

Osborn: You can view “Utopia” as a “building” toy—as a way to make little worlds. Kids have played with building toys for millennia. Games like “Minecraft” have over 40 million monthly users who play seven-plus hours a week. (My own son is among them, and I think he’s pulling up the average.) What does this explosion of interest in world-building games say to you about what people are interested in engaging with, and what do you know about how different people have used these games in different ways?

Daglow: It’s a great example of the power of video games, to take established kinds of toys and expand them. When I was a kid I played with my dad’s old Erector set, and then Kenner’s [Girder and Panel] building set, which was basically plastic pizzas that you could fit together to build buildings and bridges with. It’s that continuation of [the idea that] building things is fun.

Just this idea of “what if” is so fascinating: if I do this, what will happen? We face that in real life all the time. If I have the doughnuts for dinner, instead of something with protein and vitamins, what will happen? “Well, I have a good idea, so I think I should have the protein.” That’s a constructive part of our lives—and I think video games have just made that explode in wonderful ways.

Don’s deeds:

A brief timeline of Daglow’s most groundbreaking games

1976

Widely viewed as the first computer role-playing game (RPG) on non-classroom systems, “Dungeon” was based on the “Dungeons & Dragons” tabletop RPG that had launched in 1974. Developed in the tiny computer room in Daglow’s Mudd-Blaisdell dorm, it ran on PDP-10 mainframe computers and represented the first game with “line of sight” graphics pre-dating today’s first-person games.

1981

“Utopia” was a pivotal early sandbox game where two players each control their own island. Arguably the first strategy game to incorporate real-time elements versus being exclusively turn-based, it is often referred to as “Civilization 0.5”—a reference to the 1991 turn-based PC game that itself inspired influential games such as “SimCity” and “Minecraft.”

Racing destruction video game1984

“Adventure Construction Set”* (with Stuart Smith) and its follow-up “Racing Destruction Set”* (1985, with Rick Koenig) represented a fundamental shift toward “game creation systems” in which users can develop their own games. It included seven small “toolkits” that enabled customized tile-sets, maps and objects to create different worlds, plus a complete original game by Smith called “Rivers of Light.”

1991

Neverwinter Nights video gameAnother entry in Daglow’s “D&D”-related productions, “Neverwinter Nights” is widely considered the world’s first graphical massively multiplayer online role-playing game (MMORPG), spurring a devoted following of users battling monsters in a medieval city. Pre-dating popular games like 2004’s “World of Warcraft,”  in 2008 it was honored with a technical Emmy for its innovation in advancing the field of MMORPGs.

Osborn: There’s also a vein of world-building games where [users] are making the actual rules and encounters. When you were producing “Adventure Construction Set” and “Racing Destruction Set,” what led you to think that these would be interesting in the market, rather than just be tools for game developers?

Daglow: When I joined Electronic Arts (EA) in late 1983, I was teamed up with Stuart Smith, who EA had signed to do another mythological adventure game [“Rivers of Light”] that he had already created and that they had already signed off on. We were talking about his project, and he said that what he had really wanted to do was something like “Adventure Construction Set.” This was aligned with what I had in mind: going back to when I wrote “Dungeon” on the mainframe at CGU, I was thinking “how can we fill all this space [in a game] without having to author everything individually?”

I went back to EA CEO Trip Hawkins and said, “I want to change the game that you all approved.” I was naive and new in the process, coming from this big corporation Mattel to what was then this little startup (EA), I didn’t realize that when you do something like that, you might get the game uncreated. But we made our pitch [to EA] to let people build their own adventures. Stuart would do the adventure game he was planning to do, but he’d build it with this ‘construction set,’ and then we’d have another tutorial adventure that’ll show you all the other things you can do with the game.

Osborn: From a user-creativity perspective, do you have experiences of how people have played world-building games like “Neverwinter Nights” and “Utopia” that have surprised you—ways that players’ creativity has taken you off-guard?

Daglow: Yes! It happens enough that we have an industry term for that: emergent gameplay. People play with our games in ways we never ever could have imagined. I would say that “Neverwinter Nights” is not about writing a story, it’s about the set design. You’re creating a world in which other people can play, and people will think of things you never would have thought of.

[Even] the idea that they would form communities—there are still people today playing the [19]90s versions of “Neverwinter Nights” from AOL, in some cases with people who they’ve been playing with for 35 years. There are groups on social media that I can go visit where these people still get together. Through the community they’ve created a world that’s infinitely bigger and longer-lasting than anything I ever created. If you provide a grain of sand and it builds into something like that over time, it’s just incredibly inspiring.

It can be different ways to play, it can be communities built on top of games, it can be completely new games designed using the same old tools and ways you would never expect. It’s one of the wonderful parts of doing game design, to see amazing things [done] not by professional game designers, but by a high school kid in New Orleans, or a medical assistant in Dubuque. They will come up with these brilliant, creative, innovative twists. It’s just so much fun to see.

Gaming 101: A Glossary

Computing & Gaming Concepts

Chatbots simulate human conversation using preprogrammed responses to user input.

Large language models (LLMs) like ChatGPT are a type of AI trained on huge amounts of text to generate natural language responses.

World-building games let players design and shape virtual environments or societies. Role-playing games (RPGs) involve players assuming different characters in fictional settings, while “massively multiplayer online” RPGs (MMORPGs) bring together huge numbers of gamers interacting online in the same persistent world, which continues to exist and evolve while players are offline.

Strategy games tend to focus on planning skills rather than instant action.  The two main types are turn-based strategy (TBS) like “D&D,” where players take turns, and real-time strategy (RTS) like “Warcraft,” where everyone plays simultaneously.

Sandbox games like “GTA” and “Minecraft” generally lack standardized or predetermined goals, leading to a larger degree of creativity. They are often “open world,” lacking traditional levels and borders like walls or doors that limit them to a particular area of play.

Non-player characters (NPCs) like quest givers or shopkeepers are controlled by the computer.

Interactive fiction tools like script generators create written content or character interactions, allowing players to navigate a text-based story by making choices to shape the narrative.

Games & Franchises

“Dungeons & Dragons” (“D&D”): A tabletop game known for storytelling and character customization, that laid the foundation for modern RPGs.

“Grand Theft Auto” (“GTA”): A crime game franchise where players complete missions and explore its vast open world at their own pace.

“Minecraft”: A sandbox game where players build and explore block-based environments. Its open-ended gameplay has inspired countless user-created modifications and worlds.

“Roblox”: A platform where users create, share and play user-generated games. With millions of user-created experiences, it functions as both a game and a development platform.

Sound-Scouting with Def Jam CEO

Tunji Balogun portrait by Ro.Lexx

Tunji Balogun portrait by Ro.Lexx

It’s a Friday afternoon in the middle of January, and Tunji Balogun ’04 is multi-tasking. He has one hand on the wheel of his car and a Zoom call going on his phone, as he navigates to a local In-N-Out Burger for his first real meal of the day. His schedule as the CEO and chairman of Def Jam Recordings does this, sometimes: keeps him busy enough that he can’t fit in lunch until after 3 p.m.

On this particular Friday, though, Los Angeles is still reeling from the spate of wildfires that have burned up tens of thousands of acres of land across the county. The sky is blue, but you can still taste the ash in the air. So as he drives, Balogun is reflecting on his place in the order of things: what it means to dedicate your life and career to creativity when the world is quite literally burning around you.

“I would say I’ve dedicated my career to trying to uplift forward-thinking, cutting-edge artists making Black music,” he says. To him, Black music is a loose and expansive category that cuts across genres, encompassing dance, R&B and pop as well as dancehall, reggae and hip-hop.

Balogun says that the fires that surround his city bring his vision of the power of art into clear focus. “In a chaotic, wild world, people need healthy forms of escape,” he says. “Music is one of humanity’s creations that brings us closer together [and] serves as a healing force. My approach has been to try to do my part and leave a legacy that I can be proud of.”
He’s done plenty of legacy-building in the first decade of his career. Since his first internship at Warner Records, which Balogun landed while still at Pomona, he’s helped launch the careers of artists including Kendrick Lamar, Khalid, Bryson Tiller, Doja Cat and SZA. Now his role at Def Jam means he’s in charge of shepherding the work of hip-hop luminaries such as LL Cool J and Public Enemy’s Chuck D as well as newcomers like Elmiene, who Balogun says has “one of the best voices I’ve heard in my life.”

But becoming one of music’s most influential tastemakers wasn’t the plan when he first got into the business. During that Warner internship, Balogun wasn’t thinking about eventually elevating into the executive suite—he wanted to learn the ropes in order to break through himself as a rapper.

But as soon as he got into the boardroom, Balogun realized that most of the other people there were business majors, not music obsessives. He, on the other hand, was already scouring the internet for up-and-coming acts at a time when that wasn’t yet common. He had an enthusiast’s deep-rooted knowledge combined with a fan’s earnest love of the work. And as Balogun surveyed the landscape around him, it became clear that he probably could have a bigger impact helping facilitate others’ careers than narrowly focusing on his own.

He felt like his liberal arts background made him particularly well-suited to the task. “I’m a studious, well-educated Nigerian-American kid who went to schools like Deerfield and Pomona,” he says now. “I’ve always kind of had dual citizenship. I’m in the creative community, but I also can go into board meetings and talk about quarterly finance projections.” That flexibility made him an ideal “translator” between corporate and creative.

He also felt a responsibility as a Black man in an industry that has historically exploited Black artists. “Something I noticed when I got my first internship was [that] there are a lot of artists who look like me, but not a lot of executives,” he recalls. “So there’s always been a goal in the back of my head to be an advocate and a strong voice for people who don’t really have a lot of people advocating for them.”

Tunji’s Take:

Kendrick LamarKendrick Lamar

I got to work with Kendrick really early in his career. Seeing an artist like him who is such a great example of storytelling and forward-thinking, fearless art from an unapologetically Black American voice—that inspired me. It gave me the goal of, “OK, this is the type of stuff that I want to work on and be a part of throughout my career.”


Donald GloverChildish Gambino

(actor Donald Glover)

He’s a renaissance man. That guy’s talented at everything. He’s a savant. He’s a writer, producer, singer, rapper, dancer, auteur. That dude’s just a “super-creative.” He’s the closest thing we have to a modern-day Sammy Davis Jr. And also the most gracious, down-to-earth, regular person.


H.E.R.H.E.R.

She’s another supreme creative. Singer, songwriter, producer, performer. I think she’s one of the most talented performers of her generation, and someone who has only scratched the surface of her range musically. She broke as an R&B act, but she can really play any genre. I was in the studio when she and Daniel Caesar wrote “Best Part”—one of the greatest songs I’ve ever heard in person. She’s otherworldly.


Doja CatDoja Cat

Doja is a world builder. She’s another one who’s sort of genreless. She broke as a rap act and a pop act at the same time, but she can really do anything. I think she’s underrated as a rapper—her songs are so big that people kind of discount her lyrical ability. She literally went from the fringes of the internet to being one of the most popular mainstream acts. And I love that she retains her “weird”—she’s never homogenized her style, even as she’s gotten bigger.


KhalidKhalid

Khalid was a child prodigy. I think when he debuted people thought he was in his 20s or 30s because his voice was so deep and distinct. But I met him when he was 16, and we put out his album American Teen right after he turned 18. He’s another one whose genius I’ve been blessed to witness in person: I was in the room when he wrote songs like “Young, Dumb & Broke,” and “Talk” with Disclosure. He’s someone who’s wise beyond his years.

He’s been able to do that for many artists over the years—but often at the cost of his own creative pursuits. Dedicating himself to his job means that Balogun rarely makes his own music anymore. So he scratches that particular itch by collaborating with the artists he signs. It doesn’t always happen—Balogun never wants to insert his opinion where it’s not welcome. But “there are artists who I get really close with, and there would be a level of comfort where they knew that I made music, and then I could contribute as a songwriter,” Balogun says.

Sometimes that goes far enough that he earns an official songwriting credit, as he did on K CAMP’s double-platinum hit “Comfortable.” But more often he’s just in the studio spitballing, being part of the give-and-take of making something new. “Most of the time I won’t ask for or take credit,” Balogun acknowledges. “You’re my artist. If you win, I win.”

After his time at Warner Brothers, Balogun found his way to A&R Interscope, and moved from there to RCA, he went on what he calls “a special run of signings,” hooking up with artists including SZA, Childish Gambino and H.E.R. He went on to start his own label, Keep Cool, in 2018. That work earned him the chance to come aboard at Def Jam in 2022.

The idea scared him at first. He had a good thing going where he was, and the idea of taking on more responsibility—particularly on the business side—was intimidating. But ultimately Balogun opted into the opportunity to put his imprint on such a storied label. “Def Jam is one of the last labels that has a mandate to uphold Black music,” he says. “I just felt like I was being called to do the role. Spiritually it’s kind of what I’ve been trying to do this whole time.”

That transition also thrust Balogun from a largely behind-the-scenes role at RCA into a very bright spotlight at Def Jam. “RCA is an amazing label, and I had a great time working there, but no one’s checking that it is living up to the culture of what it’s supposed to be,” he says. “Things at Def Jam are scrutinized. People are checking to see the types of signings I’m making. I appreciate the accountability of it.”

The scrutiny remains intense, but he’s also come to appreciate the pressure. It reminds him of just how much Def Jam’s work matters to people, and the importance of continuous self-growth. “I tell my artists [that] you can’t get comfortable and think nothing’s going to change, because you blink and everything has shifted,” he says. “You have to remain hungry and uncomfortable in order to evolve.”

In addition to the specific pressure of life at Def Jam, Balogun also has to weather the storms of a business model that’s trying to figure out where it stands as album sales figures slump and races for TikTok virality reign. But he insists that he’s not one to chase trends, instead relying on finding good artists who make interesting work, and being patient in helping them find their audience. “I want to work with people who are staunchly themselves, no matter the platform,” Balogun says. “And then they figure out, ‘OK, how do I be myself on this new platform, as opposed to [changing] myself to fit the platform?’”

To that end, he’s less interested in digital dominance and more focused on finding fans wherever they are. “In music right now, success happens when creativity meets community,” he says. “If an artist can actually galvanize people who care about what they’re doing, those people become the ambassadors for their songs, for their albums, for their shows. They help spread your music. They put it on their stories, they run your fan accounts. You usually have to start small, but I find that most of the people who are successful in this era understand that it’s not about reaching the masses first. It’s about cultivating your own little world and double, triple, quadrupling down on it.”

As an example of this kind of fandom-building, Balogun points to rapper Doja Cat, who—long before the pandemic inspired many musicians to perform directly for fans online—was streaming on Instagram Live two or three times a week and making songs in her bedroom. “She really did build a bulletproof community of people who will never leave her, and then layered bigger and bigger songs on top of that.” he says.

It’s clear that as much as Balogun understands a balance sheet, everything he does comes from a deep-rooted passion for music and creativity. But even the hottest passions can burn out, especially when you have to engage with them in a professional setting, day after day. How does he keep the spark alive?

“I have to constantly revert to ‘Tunji the fan,’ and remember that, while all the industry stuff is cool, at the end of the day it’s really about the artist and the fan,” he says. “I have to remind myself not to overthink it. You won’t get burnt out [if] you actually love the stuff that you’re working on.”

When the non-music parts of the job threaten to take over, Balogun makes sure to follow up long days in the office with long nights in his studio staying on top of the latest themes and explorations in music. Some of his breakout picks from his current crop of artists at Def Jam include R&B singer Muni Long and Fridayy, who Balogun describes as a “hybrid artist” mixing R&B, Afrobeat and gospel. He’s also excited about Coco Jones, as well as LiAngelo Ball, whose brothers Lonzo and LaMelo are both NBA players. “He’s gonna have one of the best years in hip-hop,” Balogun predicts.

At this point in our conversation, Balogun has long since picked up his In-N-Out Burger; it’s cooling in the car next to him. More calls are coming through, and texts about an artist’s song leaking. It’s time for him to return to his work: the creative part, the corporate part, all of it. He’s tired, but he seems certain that he’ll be able to keep his compass pointed north, so to speak, even as he faces the challenges of a difficult job in an uncertain industry.

“I’ve been a fan, I’ve been an artist, I’ve been an executive, and all of those different experiences have informed my approach,” Balogun says. “Deep down, I’m still a fan, and still an artist. I’m not putting music together or making records or anything, but I think I have the heart and the soul of an artist.”

Creativity? That’s Child’s Play

Mac Barnett
Mac Marnett

Mac Marnett ’04 (photo by Chris Black)

By his senior year at Pomona, Mac Barnett ’04 knew what kind of stories captivated children.

What he didn’t know was how to write them.

Barnett, an English major fascinated by complex poetry and other pieces of fiction, spent his college summers as a camp counselor in Berkeley, California, reading to preschoolers. One book in particular, The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales by Jon Scieszka, kindled Barnett’s love for children’s literature.

“I thought, ‘This is the kind of thing I love and that I study, but these 4-year-olds aren’t going to get it,’” Barnett recalls. “But when I read this book to them, they were getting the most sophisticated jokes. That’s when I figured out that kids were the best audience for the kind of stories that I liked.”

Impassioned his senior year to write for children, Barnett convinced the late author and Pomona Professor David Foster Wallace to let him into his creative writing class. On top of challenging his students to shed their writing habits, Barnett says, Wallace underscored the importance of the writer-reader relationship.

“He had such a focus on taking care of the reader,” Barnett recalls. “Him explaining how you, at a desk alone in a room, should have your audience in mind and consider how a sentence or plot twist is going over with the reader—it just made so much sense, especially for picture books, which are usually read out loud to kids. Consider the adult reading and the kid listening.”

Pomona taught me how to think from different perspectives, to look at problems in different ways, to let go of certainty, which I think is often the enemy of literature.”

-Mac Barnett ’04

Twenty years after graduating from Pomona, Barnett has written more than 60 books for children and won myriad awards.

In February, The New York Times best-selling author was appointed the ninth National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature by the Library of Congress. During his two-year term, Barnett will travel the country championing children’s picture books as a quintessential American art form.

“Taking children’s books seriously requires us to take children seriously,” he says. “Children are misunderstood, overlooked, dismissed, not listened to—and really caring about the books they read requires us to see them for who they really are [as] dimensional human beings who feel deeply and think in interesting and complicated ways.”

Learning how to think

Barnett wanted to be a writer long before leaving the Bay Area for Pomona in the early 2000s.

He started writing poetry in middle school, then plays and novels as he got older. At Pomona, he wrote sketch comedy and developed an interest in journalism and nonfiction that he once thought would turn into a future in academic writing.

As Barnett pondered his career prospects, he says Pomona professors like Paul Saint-Amour encouraged him to be skeptical, thoughtful and curious.

“Pomona taught me how to think from different perspectives, to look at problems in different ways, to let go of certainty, which I think is often the enemy of literature,” Barnett adds. “I would be a much less interesting writer if I hadn’t gone to Pomona.”

One day his senior year, Barnett mentioned to a Pitzer College friend that in the summer he’d discovered the book Stinky Cheese Man while at camp. The friend was Scieszka’s daughter, who introduced Barnett to her father shortly thereafter.

In 2008, Scieszka was named the first National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature. A year later, Scieszka helped Barnett publish his first book, Billy Twitters and His Blue Whale Problem.

Barnett says that, when he left Pomona, he told himself he would take a year and try to write a picture book. If it didn’t work out, he would go back to get a Ph.D. somewhere.

“Even when I got my third book published,” he says, “I didn’t think writing would be a career.”

Mac Barnett holding book

Mac Barnett ’04, seen here at his inauguration as National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature, draws inspiration from art, music and theatre, and incorporates the complexities of those mediums into his stories. 
(Shawn Miller/Library of Congress)

Writing for young readers

Barnett learned early in his career to listen to children.

Writing for kids and adults is similar, he says, in that both appreciate the great themes of literature—love, jealousy, betrayal, discovery. Barnett hit his stride as an author when he started focusing on concerns children have and asking young readers questions rather than answering them.

In 2017, Barnett published The Wolf, the Duck, and the Mouse—the picture book he says epitomizes his approach to writing.

“What’s powerful about picture books is that they can go very deep very fast,” he says. “It’s a short form of literature—32 pages, sometimes 40—and not a lot of words per page. But it can get to some of life’s deepest questions, and I feel I did that [with The Wolf, the Duck, and the Mouse].”

Barnett draws inspiration from art, music and theatre, and incorporates the complexities of those creative mediums into his stories. He says that, because children tend to be insulated from much of the world, children’s books tend to feel cloistered from the rest of literary culture—but that the best ones are sophisticated, thought-provoking and challenging.

“As adults, when we encounter something we don’t understand, we often push it aside because it makes us feel stupid,” he says. “But kids just bravely charge into challenging texts. It’s really inspiring to watch.”

With more than 5 million copies sold and a stop-motion animated series on Apple TV+ based on his and co-creator Jon Klassen’s Shapes series of picture books, Barnett recognizes the responsibility he has in writing for a time in a young reader’s life.

As National Ambassador, he has the platform to enlighten adults on the power of children’s books and the brilliance of the kids who read them. He says that he appreciates living in the space of early childhood, likening it to a train station where kids are constantly passing through.

“I’m sitting there [with my] violin … [trying] to play them a beautiful piece of music that makes sense in that moment,” he says. “Maybe they’ll remember the tune when they get where they’re going, but even if they don’t, all that matters is that I played a good piece while they were there.”

Hooke(d) on sports analytics

Melissa Hooke

 

Growing up as a Boston Red Sox fan, Melissa Hooke ’19 never imagined herself celebrating a championship at Yankee Stadium. Yet there she was, cheering as the “Commissioner’s Trophy” was raised into a beautiful October night sky in the Bronx. Hooke, a senior quantitative analyst with the Los Angeles Dodgers, had just become a World Series champion.

Melissa Hooke ’19 in the LA Dodgers officesStrangely enough, baseball wasn’t even her second favorite sport growing up. Hooke was recruited for basketball but also played soccer at Pomona. “I was looking at small liberal arts schools in New England, then visited Pomona and fell in love with campus,” she says. “Last minute, before early decision deadlines, I applied.”

She played midfield in soccer and guard in basketball, sometimes juggling both seasons. “Especially with our [soccer] team—we made the NCAA tournament a couple of times, so I’d join basketball midseason and have to catch up fast.”

Though an accomplished athlete, Hooke prioritized academics. “For me, it was always school first and then sports as an add-on.”

Like many incoming first years, Hooke wasn’t sure what she wanted to major in at Pomona, but after taking math and psychology courses, she ultimately declared as a math major.

“It was really my junior fall semester when I took a class with Jo Hardin [that] I decided that I really did love math and that there were career paths that attracted me,” she says.

Melissa Hooke ’19 at her computer

Hooke’s time in the math department also brought her in contact with Associate Professor Gabe Chandler, a former Sagehens baseball coach who built an impressive pipeline to Major League Baseball—not for athletes, but for data analysts. Alongside his colleagues, Chandler has seen a remarkable number of graduates land roles in professional baseball analytics. Though he became Hooke’s thesis advisor, he never pushed her toward the sport.

“I don’t think I ever mentioned working in baseball, other than [sharing that] such career paths exist, as we’ve had a lot of alumni working in that space,” Chandler says.

Hooke and Chandler’s connection extended beyond academics. Athletics took a backseat for Hooke after knee injuries ended her college career, but she joined Chandler’s intramural basketball team, “which made a deep run in the playoffs, with Melissa hitting at least one game-winner,” Chandler recalls.

Academically, Hooke thrived under Chandler’s mentorship, earning Best Paper at the 2020 Institute of Electrical and Electronics Engineers Aerospace Conference for her thesis on Bayesian modeling.

A junior-year internship at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL) at the California Institute of Technology introduced Hooke to aerospace analytics, leading to a full-time offer before her graduation in 2019. While her foray into aerospace wasn’t necessarily expected, the position fit like a glove.

“I was working on early mission concepts and designs,” Hooke says. “Basically, they’d come up with some crazy idea and say, ‘we want to fly a probe into Jupiter’s atmosphere and figure out what the composition is. And we want to fly these four science instruments.’ I would help the team come up with that architecture and estimate the cost based on previously flown historical NASA missions.”

Hooke spent five years at JPL, enjoying the space industry before an opportunity with the Dodgers emerged: A former JPL colleague working for the Dodgers and aware of her sports background sent her a job listing and “wouldn’t let [her] get away with not applying.”

Hooke started with the Dodgers near the end of the 2023 season, just as the team finished with the third-best regular-season record, only to be eliminated in the first round of the playoffs. Heading into 2024, expectations were high.

Melissa Hooke ’19 by LA Dodgers trophy cabinet

Among Hooke’s duties as part of the 2023-24 analytics team: crunching the numbers to evaluate effectiveness of pitchers lower in the Dodgers’ depth chart.

“I think this year was a challenging year for the Dodgers, in some ways, with all the expectations. Obviously, the team dealt with a lot of injuries. And as an analytics department, we had experienced a few disappointing seasons leading up to this. So, going into the playoffs, there’s a lot of angst in the office. People are really nervous. A lot of people are too nervous to watch the games.”

Hooke’s Dodgers job is about removing emotions from decision-making in areas
such as player evaluation, game strategy and team management. She primarily works on pitcher evaluation.

“Math has pushed the game of baseball forward. As we get more data, we’re able to uncover more about why certain players are good,” she explains. “For pitching mechanics, we track pitcher movement, and teams can use that data to extract information about delivery mechanics—when a delivery leads to better outcomes, worse outcomes or even injury. That’s how we’re helping teams move forward.”

While analytics can clash with instinct and tradition, Hooke sees growing acceptance of its role.

“At the Dodgers, the coaches [and] executives really buy into it,” she says. “We have a culture of accepting it, and that trickles down to the players.”

That buy-in led to another successful regular season as the Dodgers finished with the best record in the MLB. But injuries left their pitching staff short-handed in the postseason. Part of Hooke’s job was to identify pitchers in the lower ranks who could contribute to a World Series-winning team.

Melissa Hooke ’19 at Dodgers–Yankees game in New York.

The Dodgers made it to the World Series, and Hooke found herself on a team-chartered plane heading to New York. After falling behind 5-0 in Game 5, she recalled the team’s resolve.

“I think we kind of just said ‘well, we’ll get it done in L.A.’ And then, as the fifth inning progressed and we started coming back, we said ‘let’s just finish this off.’”

The Dodgers did finish it off, winning 7-6, and Hooke became a World Series champion.

“It was a bit of relief, but also just pent-up from the last few years,” she says. “Having a disappointing postseason ending before, everyone expected us to [disappoint again]. It was a celebration. It was different being in New York, but I’m glad that we were because it just tied together that magical experience.”

A Decade On-Board and Off-Shore With Sailor Desiree Wicht ’08

Desiree (Golen) Wicht ’08 on bow of Atticus sailboat

Desiree and Jordan Wicht overlooking the oceanAfter college Desiree (Golen) Wicht ’08 created a bestselling Tetris app, launched a pop-up restaurant startup, scrubbed the decks of John Kerry’s $100 million yacht and then quit the landlocked life entirely in 2014 when, within three months of meeting her partner Jordan Wicht, she decided to travel the globe in a 50-year-old, 30-foot sailboat—having never before hoisted a single jib.

“Project Atticus,” by the numbers

  • 10,804 miles traveled
  • 2,000+ total days on the water
  • 18 countries visited
  • 1 pirate ship evaded

Over the last decade the Wichts have cataloged the trials and tribulations of boat life through weekly YouTube videos as “Project Atticus,” with roughly 300,000 subscribers following their adventures doing everything from spearing hogfish in Belize, to fleeing Turkish warships, to spending the pandemic off-grid in Panama, to giving birth to their daughter Isabella on the island of Malta.

“We went on this adventure because we wanted the freedom to be able to go anywhere from the comfort of our economical, sustainable, floating home,” Desiree says. “As the tiny-home mantra goes, ‘the world gets a lot bigger when you’re living small.’”

Desiree (Golen) Wicht ’08 and her husband Jordan on boat

Desiree (Golen) Wicht ’08 and her husband Jordan Wicht spent more than half of the last decade on their 30-foot sailboat Atticus, braving hurricanes, Turkish warships and even pirates.

Along the way, Desiree transformed from a 20-something who’d never touched a screwdriver, to a seasoned seafarer bartering her boat-repair skills for groceries. She and Jordan had to wear an array of hats ranging from carpentry to amateur meteorology, all while dealing with unusual professional hazards like running out of water and evading Honduran pirates. (The team bootstrapped the 10-year project via merchandise sales, video sponsors, several side hustles and thousands of annual donations from followers on YouTube and Patreon.)

“We operated on the adage that, in 20 years, we’d likely be more disappointed by the things that we didn’t do than by the things we did,” says Desiree.

Desiree (Golen) Wicht on bow of Atticus sailboat

Desiree (Golen) Wicht ’08 on bow of Atticus sailboat

As of this fall, the Wichts have returned to solid ground—a decision brought about by the imminent birth of their second daughter Scarlett in January of 2025. After a few months exploring different areas of Appalachia, the couple decided to settle in Bryson City, North Carolina, nestled in the Smoky Mountains—and they continue to film and release weekly videos as they build a mountain homestead DIY-style. While Desiree has no regrets about their time on the water, she says that she’s very happy to be back on dry land for this next chapter of life.

“I always thought of myself as a traveler who needed to see and experience the world to feel fulfilled,” she says.“But what surprised me the most about our travels is that after a while I started to really understand how special my own home, my own family, and my own country is to me. Now I’m excited to make roots, without feeling like I’m missing out on what’s ‘out there’ anymore.”

30-foot sailboat Atticus

Unearthing the Volcanoes

nikki moore field
Geology professor Nikki Moore took a team to the “exposed granites” of the White Mountains, nestled in the Sierras.

Geology Professor Nikki Moore took a team to the “exposed granites” of the White Mountains, nestled in the Sierras.

The sun is setting over the White Mountains an hour west of Nevada as Visiting Assistant Professor of Geology Nikki Moore and Ruth Vesta-June Gale ’25 set up portable chairs some 8,000 feet above sea level.

Grandview Campground—where the two are staying this August weekend—is a certified dark sky location, a haven for stargazers and astronomy groups. From here, once darkness consumes the light, the Milky Way and other collections of stars dot the sky.

As Moore, Pomona visiting assistant professor of geology, and Gale relax after a day of collecting rock samples from ancient dikes, meteors sparkle overhead before darting south and vanishing into the horizon.

While most appear and disappear within seconds, one stays visible long enough for Moore to audibly gasp.

The brightest and longest shooting star she’s ever seen.

“There’s a connection I have with nature where I can have these special moments that stick with me for a lifetime,” she says.

For Gale, a geology and applied math double major, the three-day trip to the Lone Pine area marked her second year doing fieldwork with Moore. She says the chance to visit the White Mountains—one of the lesser-explored ranges in the Sierra Nevada region—for the first time this summer was too good to pass up.

“You think of mountains and [that] they’re big, but it’s something else when you’re hiking on them,” Gale says. “We had some remote dikes we were trying to access, and they weren’t the worst hikes, but you’re off the trail so you don’t realize the magnitude of the mountains until you’re on them. It was satisfying to conquer them, to do science in this massive area.”

Lynn Robinson, Nikki Moore and Ruth Vesta-June Gale ’25 at the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest in the White Mountains to see Methuselah, confirmed to be the oldest tree in the world (4,856 years and counting...)

Lynn Robinson, Nikki Moore and Ruth Vesta-June Gale ’25 at the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest in the White Mountains to see Methuselah, confirmed to be the oldest tree in the world (4,856 years and counting…)

Studying Dikes

Moore’s expertise combines her three passions: geology, teaching and nature. From collecting rocks as a child growing up in Nebraska to visiting the Rocky Mountains with friends as a teenager, Moore became equal parts fascinated with how immense mountains are and determined to understand how they came to be.

While an undergrad at the University of Nebraska at Omaha, Moore found herself a tutor for friends and peers. “I found that I had an innate sense of joy in sparking an interest for someone else and breaking down something complex to someone else and seeing their eyes light up with understanding and excitement,” she says.

Thanks to a roughly $200,000 National Science Foundation EMpowering BRoader Academic Capacity and Education (EMBRACE) grant, Moore traveled to the eastern Sierra, the White Mountains and the Benton Range this summer to explore dike swarms—the plumbing of magmatic systems found on Earth and other planetary bodies.

Moore’s field, geochemical and geochronological work on the dikes, blends teaching and research. It is a perfect fit for a grant program intended to give undergraduate faculty the time and means to step away from or reduce their teaching load to develop a robust research program.

Dike swarms “are the feeders for volcanic eruptions in a range of geologic settings,” she says, “and thus are the connection between magmas that are generated deep in Earth’s mantle and those that travel through the crust to be erupted at the surface.”

Because swarms exist from the deep geologic past, Moore says, they “can provide important evidence to help reconstruct the magmatic history of these regions.”

According to Moore, understanding the whole volcanic process—from how magmas first form in the “mantle,” then move through the crust and erupt at the surface—is imperative to learning how and why volcanic eruptions happen in different parts of the world.

Above, a rock that’s part of the massive Independence Dike Swarm, which extends more than 370 miles across California.

A rock that’s part of the massive Independence Dike Swarm, which extends more than 370 miles across California.

This summer, she planned three trips to the Sierra Nevada, each accompanied by different Claremont Colleges students. Together, professor and student hiked to dikes Moore targeted and mapped, collecting a compositional range of dike rock samples for lab analysis.

“What I really enjoyed about this experience is how much I could ask Nikki about what’s going on in the field,” Gale says. “I could toss around ideas with her and make sure I understood what’s going on and what the research is trying to prove.”

Studying the chemical composition of the samples they collected this summer will help the team confirm whether the Independence Dike Swarm is 148 million years old, as experts believe, or if the dikes started to emerge even earlier, as preliminary data suggests.

“My study is unique in that the dikes were the conduits through which volcanic eruptions were produced at the surface, during the time the whole Sierra Nevada arc was forming,” Moore says. “Those volcanoes that once existed are now eroded away, and the core of the Sierras are now the exposed granites.”

Sagehens in the Sierra

Pomona College geologists have long used the Sierra Nevada as a proving ground for many core concepts on how magmas form, crystallize and build the crust, says Jade Star Lackey, professor of geology and an authority on the region.

It’s about trying to help people spark their imagination—to be able to say, ‘That’s not just a static rock; that’a story.”—Professor of Geology Jade Star Lackey (left, with Nikki Moore)

Jade Star Lackey and Nikki Moore

Magmas produce igneous rocks, which can cool and solidify in one of two places: within the crust or erupted at the surface. The magmas that stall, cool and entirely solidify in the crust are plutonic rocks, such as granite.

Spanning some 24,000 square miles, the Sierra has 50 million years’ worth of different granites from all compositions, making it a mecca for geologists and geology students. A room on the first floor of Edmunds Hall is filled with salt-and-pepper granite collected from the Sierra Nevada over the years, each its own piece of Earth history.

“The rocks speak for themselves,” Lackey says, “but then there’s a Sagehen connection in terms of the scholarly research that’s happened on them.”

Sierra Nevada Stats

  • 3 national parks
  • 25% of California’s land area
  • 60% of California’s annual precipitation

Art Sylvester ’59, who taught geology for more than 35 years at the University of California, Santa Barbara, cut his teeth navigating the region’s ridges, canyons and terrain as an undergraduate at Pomona. Sylvester, who died in 2023 at age 85, later co-authored Roadside Geology of Southern California, a popular addition to the Roadside Geology series of books published by Mountain Press.

Allen Glazner ’76, professor emeritus at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, also traversed the Sierra as a student and later, a professional, writing a series of books that includes volumes on Death Valley and Yosemite.

Glazner and Sylvester collaborated on the 1993 tome Geology Underfoot in Southern California.

“All the work they’ve done started by realizing just how much science could be done in the Sierras because of the sheer scale of it,” Lackey says. “It’s also important as an analog for a lot of other great granite terrains that form the Ring of Fire in Japan, Russia and Canada.”

Q&A with Professor of Geology Jade Star Lackey

Lackey first navigated the Sierra Nevada as a graduate student at the University of Wisconsin, Madison. Decades and countless trips to the iconic mountain range later, Pomona’s chair of geology remains fascinated by the vast expanse of granite.

Q: What drew you to geology?

A: I’d always been around parents who liked to be outside. Because they lived in rural areas, they eschewed the urban existence. My father was a commercial fisherman so he lived on the coast, and we had enough areas of land where I could go explore. From an early stage I was watching the river and noticing the river change colors during the year. I always tell my students about my own introductory geology class, where a lot of it was intuitive because I’d had enough experiences. It was learning that there was so much more to learn; to teach my mind to see what’s in the rocks. Suddenly I became a storyteller where I can look at the layers in a rock and see an interruption in the layers as being a profound event. Fast forward to where I am now, and it’s about trying to help people spark their imagination—to be able to say, ‘That’s not just a static rock, that’s a story.’ Marcia Bjornerud, a professor at Lawrence University, says that rocks aren’t nouns, they’re verbs.

Q: Describe the student-faculty dynamic within Pomona’s Geology Department.

A: We have a lot of resources that other geology departments don’t have, so we can get students doing high-level research immediately. The department’s good at supporting the student who’s curious. If they can get their schedule clear, then they’re unlimited in what they can do. Some people are really good at spotting certain subtleties in an outcrop, whereas the big picture thinker might recognize how to hike around a field site looking for the contact between two granite bodies. You work with students in that regard to get a sense of how they think. It’s never about who can swing a rock hammer the hardest. There’s been a misconception of geology in the past where it was only bearded guys and solitude. We like to dispel that here. We’re a cooperative. If it’s making meals in camp or collecting and carrying samples back, all of that is part of the experience.

Q: Having been to the Sierra Nevada so often, what keeps fieldwork there fresh?

A: There’s this micro-Sierra that you’re always studying when you’re trying to understand the differences in the rocks, and then there’s the macro—the vistas, the Ansel Adams Sierra Nevada that people talk about. That part never gets old. I’m always on the move as a geologist. I’m not coming back to the same lake every year to fish. I’m off the main trail, so there are many places we go where people haven’t been in decades. We’ll find archaeological things and markers that were put there by shepherds or people before them. Those are the things that keep it fresh for me—just always asking new questions around the next mountain or ridge.

interview conducted by Brian Whitehead

Budding Geologists

At Pomona, Lackey and Moore are part of a Geology Department that draws students from across The Claremont Colleges fascinated by nature and the chance to study science outside the traditional biology and chemistry disciplines.

Little time is wasted getting these inquisitive minds into the field.

There is no substitute for hands-on experience, Lackey says, be it outside or in the lab. As thrilling as collecting dike and granite samples from the Sierra can be for one student, equal thrill can be found by another student in preparing a sample to examine under the microscope for years to come.

“There’s enough breadth of science in geology that it’s really appealing to students,” Lackey says. “It gives you the opportunity to practice all over the world if you want to. So often we go out there looking to answer science questions, but there’s so much we can do in the Sierra that brings the classroom alive.”

He says that students with the time to accompany faculty on multi-day trips are in high demand, and the breathtaking views of the Sierra are a good incentive. Between Yosemite, Sequoia and Kings Canyon, the scenery is second to none.

“There’s a lot of power in the landscape,” Lackey adds. “The rock falls we see, or the damage that an avalanche has done to trees that are snapped off, and the really big snow years we had a couple years ago—that’s the kind of stuff that’s stunning, and is why this is such a good place for both teaching and research.”

Khadi Diallo ’25 joined Moore for a July trek to Onion Valley. Their days began at 8 a.m. and ended by 3 p.m. due to the extreme heat occurring in the lower elevations of the Owens Valley region. In those seven hours, the two navigated as much of the mountain area as they could in search of rock samples.

“I was in constant awe of the mountains,” Diallo says. “There’s something particular about mountains, too, where you’re looking at them from a distance and feel both very big and very small. You come up to the mountains and realize the sheer magnitude of geology there.”

For Diallo, a geology major and California native, the six-day experience was as fulfilling as she expected. Joining Moore in the field helped Diallo connect the idea of geology mapping with how it’s used in the real world. Some geologists spend their entire careers mapping the Sierra, paving the way for easy sampling.

“It’s a lot of work built on that of other geologists,” Lackey says. “And that’s what makes the Sierra so good. It’s really well mapped. The quadrangles across the Sierra. I used those, and it was the names on those maps that I would then connect back to Pomona people.”

Moore, who used these extensive, pre-existing maps to plan and execute her fieldwork, likes to say she “stands on the shoulders of giants who did so much incredible work before us.”

A Quick Geology Glossary

Crust

the outermost layer of Earth, composed largely of silica and oxygen, making it light-/low-density compared to other more internal layers. It comprises the rocky surface upon which all life dwells.

Mantle

the middle and most voluminous layer of Earth, composed largely of silica, iron, magnesium and oxygen, in which most of Earth’s magmas are generated.

Magma

molten/liquid rock that cools to form igneous rocks, either within Earth as plutonic rocks, or erupted at the surface of Earth from volcanoes. Magmas can also contain mineral crystals that have cooled and solidified, gases such as water and carbon dioxide, and xenoliths, which are pieces of pre-existing rock that are accidentally incorporated into the melt.

Dike

a vertical intrusion of magma, that allows magma to move from deep in the mantle or crust to the surface. These pathways are created by pre-existing fractures in rocks. A dike swarm is a group of dikes that cover a wide area and often are similarly oriented or arranged in a particular geometry.

Fused rock powder

a rock that has been broken into small pieces, then ground into a powder, and then melted at 1000 °C (~1800 °F) to produce a glass bead for chemical analysis.

Laser Ablation Inductively Coupled Plasma Mass Spectrometry (LA-ICP-MS)

an analytical technique used to determine the abundance of particular elements in rocks, especially those that are in very small abundance (called “trace elements”); this technique is also used to measure the ratios of isotopes, which can be essentially used as clocks that record the formation age of rocks or their constituent minerals.

One With Nature

Moore savors the remoteness of being in the field.

While extroverted by nature, she finds truly special leaving the beaten path for secluded spaces where mountain ranges dwarf everything in sight.

“Very often I get this feeling of standing on a spot and possibly being one of the few human beings to ever stand there or trod across that particular region,” Moore says. “That’s what gives me this deeper connection with the places I go. It just makes the work more intimate.”

Very often I get this feeling of…being one of the few human beings to ever trod across that particular region. It just makes the work more intimate.”

—Visiting Assistant Professor of Geology Nikki Moore

Lackey, too, appreciates the novel terrain, smells and sights of the Sierra—though the bears have gotten boring, he must admit.

“When you hear a rockslide in the silence of the mountains it is simultaneously terrifying, but also profound,” he says. “We find human artifacts that are really old, way markers in places where nobody else travels.”

After relaxing and volunteering for much of the summer, Diallo says traveling with Moore to the Sierra Nevada “got my mind churning back to geology.”

Khadi Diallo ’25 near a dike sampling site at Onion Valley.

Khadi Diallo ’25 near a dike sampling site at Onion Valley.

Diallo even plans to incorporate her summer research into her senior thesis.

“As a geology student it’s good to get fieldwork into your repertoire,” she says. “It’s important to get a taste of it to see if it’s something you like—and I do!”

She’s not alone.

“I had a great time—mostly because of the unexploredness of it all,” Gale says. “The trip was a real-world application of all the tools I’ve studied so far in college.”


Correction: An earlier version of this story described the Sierra as spanning “some 24,000 square feet,” instead of 24,000 square miles. The mountain range is much more than half an acre! (Spinal Tap Stonehenge, anyone? Thanks for the tip, Peter Wechsler ’68).

Pomona’s Place on the Planet

Miller in his backyard in Claremont, where he’s reintroduced Indigenous flora such as coastal sage biota, deergrass and an Engelmann oak.
Miller in his backyardin Claremont, where he’s reintroduced Indigenous flora such as coastal sage biota, deergrass and an Engelmann oak.

Miller in his backyard in Claremont, where he’s reintroduced Indigenous flora such as coastal sage biota, deergrass and an Engelmann oak.

Today’s view of the San Gabriel Mountains is a bit hazier than it was in 1901.

Today’s view of the San Gabriel Mountains is a bit hazier than it was in 1901.

Indigenous Grounds

2016: If you’re tall enough, and I’m not, you could peer out of the large, north-facing, four-pane window in the Digital Humanities Studio on the third floor of Honnold/Mudd Library and gaze on a striking tableau. In the deep background are the chaparral-cloaked, rough folds of the San Gabriel foothills that rise to Mount Baldy, the range’s visual apex.

Pull your eyes down to the foreground and a different view comes into focus. You’re looking at the Harvey S. Mudd Quadrangle, although few passersby see its fading metal name. They are on their way to somewhere else. Above that, what catches your vision are the towering stone pines and eucalyptuses, then a green sweep of lawn, establishing the x-and-y axis filled with other geometric shapes. Sidewalks radiate out at right angles from the library connecting pedestrians to Dartmouth Avenue on the west. Stately Garrison Theater is to the immediate north, and to the east, McAllister Center, and Scripps and Claremont McKenna colleges. Nothing is out of place. All grows according to plan. This built environment tightly structures the spatial dimensions of how we experience it.

Native buckwheat can be found all across campus.

Native buckwheat can be found all across campus.

1901: Fast backward 115 years, a difficult act of imagination that historic photographs can stimulate. Consider a black-and-white photograph shot at the corner of what is now College Avenue and 7th Street, roughly a block south of Honnold. The mountains are vastly more prominent in this more unstructured terrain. The dirt road barely intrudes as your eye is caught first by the snow-capped high country.

The Tongva call this rough ground Torojoatngna, the Place Below Snowy Mountain. It was carpeted with an apparently untrammeled coastal sage ecosystem. In the flatlands, there was buckwheat, sages, ephemeral wildflowers and grasses. The washes and creeks sustained oaks and sycamores. Rock-littered, with not a lot of shade, the landscape was open, capacious. There were even herds of pronghorn antelope. The Tongva and other Indigenous Peoples of Southern California used fire and other tools to manage resources that they wished to extract, including material they invested in their rituals and ceremonies, and that provided food and shelter. Notes biologist Paula M. Schiffman, “By manipulating the mix and abundance of the native plant and animal species present in the ecosystem, the Tongva were able to exert control over the vertical structure of the region’s vegetation and over a diversity of natural processes.”

This Indigenous landscape was more rapidly and enduringly modified when Spanish and later Mexican settler-colonists ran vast herds of cattle, sheep and goat in California’s inland valleys. In 1817, Rancho San Rafael in the present-day San Gabriel Valleya mere 20 miles to Claremont’s westhad nearly 2,000 cattle and hundreds of horses. Multiply those numbers across the region and it is little wonder these herbivores, in Schiffman’s words, quickly became the “dominant organisms” that allowed them to “govern the region’s ecological processes.” Converting coastal sage into grassland, as happened in what is now Pomona Valley, was a reflection of their dominance.

Both the Indigenous and Spanish/Mexican settler-colonist managed landscapes in turn were buried beginning with the post-Civil War Americanization of the region. The late 19th- century arrival of the railroad, and the land speculation and town-building schemes that followed, produced hardened roadbeds, gridded streetscapes, and a series of Victorian buildings that constituted Pomona’s early campus. Since then, The Claremont Colleges have constructed an environment that signals its distance from that earlier time and place. A plaque bolted in Pomona’s Smith Campus Center cheers the ecological conversion that began in the late 1880s: “the clearing away of underbrush, and the planting of roses and other flowers about the building, with an oval lawn in front … forced back the jackrabbits and rattlesnakes.”

The towering oaks that adorn”the Wash,”thirty acres of native landscape on campus.

The towering oaks that adorn”the Wash,” thirty acres of native landscape on campus.

2021: What would it take to reimagine the traces of that earlier biome? How might we peel back what the bulldozer flattened, shovel dug in, and the rake groomed? How might we re-see what we have rendered invisible? To make the past, present?”

Start with a trowel. It was the initial symbol of the student-led Ralph Cornell Society devoted to re-engaging with native plants. In the early 2010s, the organization collaborated with the college Grounds Department to plant sage, deer grass, baccharis, and buckwheat in place of grass, a re-indigenizing that dovetailed with campus water-reduction commitments. The department also reintroduced the endemic Engelmann oak, which had been logged out of the region a century earlier.

Often on my morning walks I’ll swing through campus to pay my respects to some of the more than 30 trees that add to the biodiverse canopy, flourishing in their native soil.”

Professor Char PortraitThese are small steps, to be sure, but they matter. Ethnobotanist and Tongva elder, the late Barbara Drake, made that case explicitly through her establishment of the Tongva Living History Garden, which has been an inspiration to many students and faculty.

This was among the influences that led my wife and me to transform our quarter-acre suburban lot one mile west of campus. When we purchased the home in 2009, we ripped up the St. Augustine lawn, and with the help of landscapers began to reintroduce coastal sage biota. Initially we planted bunches of deer grass as an evocative play on the now-departed sod; in the back, an Engelmann oak. While lizards loved the cover the grass provided, few other species did. So, as a second draft, we thinned out the long-stemmed grass, and planted different varieties of ceanothus, bitterbush, and buckwheat, and a Channel Island poppy and cherry. Clematis and morning glory are inching up the wooden fence that frames the backyard, and even a prickly pear refugee has taken root. Someone had tossed a pad over the weathered fence, and I troweled it into place. It has now stretched up and out, catching the sun’s rays.

On a recent afternoon, as I picked my way through the aromatic spring growth, jackrabbits and lizards scattered. An Anna’s hummingbird, like a sewing machine, darted around a blue-flowered Cleveland sage, and resting on a leaf while a pair of monarchs twirled into the air above, a mourning cloak. Chattering bushtits picked their way through oak and paperbark.

Home.


This second piece by Professor Miller spotlights Pomona’s two LEED Platinum dorms, first unveiled in 2011. The College has continued to make key strides in sustainability, with goals by 2030 to reach carbon neutrality and reduce its energy emissions 50 percent. Since 2014 Pomona has reduced its water use 45 percent, diverted waste at a rate of 52 percent.


Code Green

What do buildings mean? How do their volume, mass, and detail convey their subject and significance? How do their materials signal what we should see and think about their form and function? Should these structures stand for something?

The U.S. Green Building Council (USGBC) believes so. Since its founding in 1993, the nonprofit has been a relentless promoter of the idea that a building’s design should be as sustainable as possible, and that sustainability is a key index of its value and meaning. In 2000 USGBC created the Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design (LEED) rating system, an incentive-based metric that has become a Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval for architects and developers.

LEED serves as a way to keep score—the more points a structure earns toward certification, the more lustrous the medal bestowed. While there’s nothing wrong with securing Silver or Gold, Platinum is the ultimate benchmark, a shining example of how the construction industry might help make the world a more habitable place.

Or not. LEED’s many critics are wary of the system’s low bar for certification, arguing that it asks too little of its applicants, offering instead a grade-inflated set of outcomes that undercuts their value. Critics are also skeptical about LEED’s failure to require postconstruction assessment of how certified buildings function: are they as good as advertised? As efficient? As low impact? An even greater lack in the rating is an analysis of how people interact with these certified buildings in real-time. All that glitters is not gold. Or platinum.

Yet the debate is healthy, especially if it compels producers and consumers to ask sharper questions about the built landscape we inhabit, about why it looks, feels and operates as it does. I contributed a small bit to this larger discussion when I spoke at the dedication of Pomona’s two new dormitories in 2011, shortly after they achieved the highest level of LEED certification. They earned it, too; they’re not fool’s gold.

The college takes a lot of pride in these buildings and has posted online an extensive list of their more remarkable attributes. I want to point out one that speaks to my inner wonk—stormwater control. Hardly as sexy as the array of solar panels, lacking the cachet of the green roof and garden, and not nearly as cool as the energy efficiencies that are built into the halls’ every design element, the stormwater system is arguably more revolutionary.

To understand why, imagine a single raindrop hurtling down during one of Southern California’s furious late-winter storms. The moment it hits the ground, according to those who have engineered the Los Angeles basin since the late19th-century, it should be captured as quickly as possible behind a dam or in a ditch or culvert, then swiftly channeled into the concrete-lined Santa Ana, San Gabriel or Los Angeles rivers before being flushed ignominiously into the sea.

The construction of Pomona’s LEED Platinum dorms kicked off a decade of sustainability-minded initiatives.

The construction of Pomona’s LEED Platinum dorms kicked off a decade of sustainability-minded initiatives.

Some key numbers: The Sontag & Dialynas Halls

  • 36% less water use due to native, drought-tolerant landscaping and low-flow water fixtures
  • 50% less energy use thanks to high-efficiency energy systems and solar panels
  • 14% of the buildings’ energy comes from rooftop solar PV panels
  • 2,000 gallons of water heated by a solar-powered system for showers and handwashing
  • 100% of on-site rainfall captured to recharge the underground aquifer, at a rate of 7+ feet per hour

This complex system, designed to prevent flooding, has wreaked havoc with riparian ecosystems, destroying the once-robust regional runs of steelhead trout. It also has severely limited the capacity of nature to replenish local groundwater supplies—and we have compensated for this loss by expropriating snowmelt from as far away as the northern Rockies.

Pomona’s new dorms embody a smarter, locally framed approach. Any precipitation that falls within, or flows through, their catchment area will be retained onsite, and filtered down to a large underground detention basin in the alluvial wash that runs along the campus’ eastern edge. There it will slowly percolate into the aquifer, recharging the Pomona Valley’s groundwater. In so doing, these dorms benefit and befit their environment.

Yet will they be as integrative as human habitats? How will generations of students occupy them and make them their own? How will they respond to these buildings that teach sustainability every time they flick a light switch, open a window, or flush a toilet, but that also require their active participation to ensure its realization?

Pomona has asserted that sustainability is integral to its modern mission. One mark of its commitment has been the establishment of a Sustainability Integration Office—the middle word is of prime importance—that inculcates sustainable concepts into new construction and the rehabilitation of older facilities and infuses them into the college’s curricular goals and extracurricular activities.

The community must measure the steps it has taken to fulfill its convictions. That includes using intellectual tools and analytical methodologies to evaluate the very buildings in which so many abide and work. However limited, this rigorous self-examination is not just an academic exercise. Whatever the results, the evaluations will help us calibrate the human capacity to sustain ourselves on this planet of swelling population and finite resources.

Such calibrations may be especially impactful at the local level. How apt, then, that my students’ probing analyses of sustainability as fact and fancy—like the munificence of the donor families that made these two dormitories possible—is fully consistent with Pomona’s century-old charge to graduates: “They only are loyal to this college who, departing, bear their added riches in trust for mankind.”

With these dorms and other campus sustainability efforts the College has reframed that sense of individual social obligation, acknowledging that as an institution it too has a responsibility to redeem its pledge.

Natural Consequences

Miller’s 2022 essay collection explores the climate-driven forces compelling us to examine our role as inhabitants of an ever-changing Earth. The construction of Pomona’s LEED Platinum dorms kicked off a decade of sustainability-minded initiatives.

In Awe of Nature

Norway Waterfall
Norway’s Mardalsfossen Waterfall. © Grant Collier

Drone photo of Norway’s Mardalsfossen Waterfall

Where many tourists seek out spots via Instagram, Collier scans through the satellite images on Google Earth to find destinations farther afield—which is how he landed at Norway’s Mardalsfossen Waterfall. For this particular shot he flew his drone past a cliff face to get a view of the fjord from a perspective that he could never have gotten from the ground.

Gullfoss Falls, Iceland

Gulfoos Falls by Iceland’s Hvítá River. © Grant Collier

Gulfoos Falls by Iceland’s Hvítá River

Shooting in a deep canyon by Iceland’s Hvítá River, Collier had to contend with heavy waterfall mist and 100-mph wind gusts. Every time he snapped a picture he would turn the camera away from the wind, clean the mist off the lens, put the lens cap on, turn the camera back around, compose the image blind, take off the lens cap and immediately take a shot—all while holding down the tripod with his other hand in the Sisyphean hope of somehow keeping it stable.

Vatnajökull Glacier, Iceland

Photo from the base of Vatnajökull Glacier, Iceland. © Grant Collier

Vatnajökull Glacier, Iceland

Despite having only spent a few weeks there, Collier puts Iceland at the very top of his list of locations with absolutely jaw-dropping scenery. “There is no place quite like it,” he says. “It’s like something out of a fairy tale.” To get to this ice cave, Collier took a bumpy ride to the base of Vatnajökull Glacier on an all-terrain vehicle with off-road tires that were six feet tall. His girlfriend posed to provide scale for what he described as a “truly otherworldly backdrop.”

Beauty in Your Backyard

Sunset from Driveway. © Grant Collier

Although Collier takes most of his photos far away from big cities, he says that he’s “always on the lookout for magical light that can make any scene come to life.” So when he saw these clouds bursting with color outside his old home in the suburbs of Denver, he quickly set up his camera and tripod in the driveway. After shooting photos for more than three decades, he says he has learned to always be ready to capture moments of beauty. “Sometimes you can find the extraordinary in the ordinary.”

 

Northern Lights Alaska. © Grant Collier

Northern Lights, in Fairbanks, Alaska, in 2012

Collier’s first time shooting northern lights, in Fairbanks, Alaska, in 2012 (above), almost swore him off the aurora experience entirely. He waited in vain for five hours in -10°F weather without seeing anything, and was about to leave when he suddenly saw a flicker of green light in the sky. It gradually expanded, appearing like “a dancing apparition in the heavens.” Since then he’s visited multiple countries throughout the world photographing the phenomenon, including the Snowy Range in Wyoming (below).

Wyoming Snowy Range Northern Lights. © Grant Collier

Wyoming Snowy Range Northern Lights

Four Fun Facts About the Northern Lights

 

  • They power communications. In 1859 a 2-hour telegraph conversation between Boston, Massachusetts and Portland, Maine, was made possible without any battery power—there was enough electric current generated in the telegraph wires due to an aurora borealis happening.
  • They may actually make an audible sound. While hard to notice in all but the quietest of settings, Finnish researchers found that the faint sound of “whistles, cracks and hisses” tended to coincide with a temperature inversion—cold air trapped under a lid of warm air. They attribute the sounds to the release of static charge, linked to changes in atmospheric electricity caused by the aurora’s disturbance to Earth’s magnetic field.
  • They once nearly caused an international conflict. In 1995 a Norwegian research rocket sent to observe the aurora borealis passed through Russian air space, provoking the Russian military to briefly elevate their forces to high alert.
  • Yes, there are “southern lights,” also known as “aurora australis.” The areas where they can be seen are generally less populous than the northern variety, but include parts of Tasmania, New Zealand and rural Australia.

 

Getting More Pacific

Lava flowing from the Big Island of Hawaii into the Pacific Ocean in 2016. © Grant Collier

Lava flowing from the Big Island of Hawaii into the Pacific Ocean in 2016

When lava began flowing from the Big Island of Hawaii into the Pacific Ocean (above) in 2016, Collier quickly booked a plane ticket there. The park service had closed the road near the lava, so visitors had to walk four miles to see it. But Collier got crafty, renting an e-bike that got him there in 15 minutes, where he had “a rain-drenched evening marveling at the incredible scene.”

Tapuaetai—one of 22 islands in the Aitutaki Lagoon of the Cook Islands, in Polynesia. © Grant Collier

Tapuaetai—one of 22 islands in the Aitutaki Lagoon of the Cook Islands, in Polynesia.

Tapuaetai (above) is one of 22 islands in the Aitutaki Lagoon of the Cook Islands, in Polynesia. It has no full-time residents and just a single house with no electricity or running water and, according to Collier, “far too many mosquitoes.” He rented this house for one night, fulfilling his dream of living—ever so briefly—on a desert island. “When the stars came out at night it was a sight to behold,” he says. “I had to remind myself that I was there to take photographs, and not just sit in reverie.”

Beyond the Landscape

Sea stacks on the West coast of the South Island of New Zealand. © Grant Collier

Sea stacks on the West coast of the South Island of New Zealand

Sometimes camera effects can be your friend. While driving along the rugged west coast of the South Island of New Zealand, Collier spotted some impressive sea stacks (above) in the water. The lighting wasn’t ideal with such an overcast sky, so he used a light-blocking “neutral-density filter” that allowed him to capture long 30-second exposures that blurred the waves and gave the scene a distinctly dreamy effect.

Drone photo of the geological formations at the Mars Desert Research Station in Utah. © Grant Collier

Drone photo of the geological formations at the Mars Desert Research Station in Utah

Collier was perusing Google Earth one day when he discovered a curiosity in nearby Utah: the Mars Desert Research Station (above), where scientists spend weeks-long shifts simulating Martian environments, down to the detail of wearing spacesuits and air supply packs. Collier captured the 30-acre space by flying a drone in a grid-like pattern, stitching together more than 200 photos to create the final image. “The beautiful, lifeless landscape really did resemble Mars in such an uncanny and surreal way,” he says.

Grant Collier by the numbers

31 years doing photography

19 countries visited

17 cameras owned

21 books published

220,000 photos taken

Fellow alums who love snapping pics—send us your best nature photos, for potential inclusion on our website and a future issue where we will highlight some of our favorites

30 years of OA

A pair of students enjoying San Onofre Beach in San Diego
Hollywood Sign Hike

Hollywood Sign Hike

Two days after first-years move into their residence halls in August, they embark on Orientation Adventure (OA) trips. Launched in 1995, the program aims to help new students get acquainted with each other and their SoCal surroundings. For three days, students experience wilderness, cultural and entertainment options in L.A. and beyond, from bouldering in Palm Springs, to hiking the Sequoias, to camping in San Bernardino National Forest. As Outdoor Education Center Manager Connor Bigenho put it, “it’s the first-year students’ first chance to make some friends, and make some memories.”

 A sample of feedback from this year’s OA-ers:

At other schools, orientation is just another thing you do on campus; here you get to actually know your classmates by going on an adventure together.”

OA-ers at Camp Arbolado, a wilderness retreat in Angelus Oaks.

OA-ers at Camp Arbolado, a wilderness retreat in Angelus Oaks.

It was so great to be able to soak in nature with a bunch of new people.”

Bonelli Bluffs in San Dimas

Bonelli Bluffs in San Dimas

You can really be present with others when you’re in a different environment like this.”