Climbers started slacklining in the pioneer age of rock climbing.  They would tie their ropes between trees and try to walk on them to increase their balance.  Slacklining has since become its own separate sport and people are beginning to take it to new heights, literally.

Highlining is the newest addition to the long list of adrenaline pumping, fear-inducing, extreme sports.  The concept is simple, take a slackline, and put it way up high.

Palisades State Park is near Brandon, S.D.  The Big Sioux River runs through the park and is nestled between 60-70 foot rock faces. Many people go there to climb.

Five SDSU students, including myself, set out with a photographer and several spectators on Dec. 3 to steal a little piece of history in Palisades State Park.  We started set-up at about 930 a.m. and the temperature started to drop while the wind began to pick up. By noon, it was snowing sideways, blizzard style.  Luckily I was wearing about 50 geese in the form of a down coat, so I stayed warm.

We had to build anchor systems out of climbing gear on either side of the canyon strong enough to support more than 1,000 pounds of force.  After spending four long, cold hours in a blizzard, we finally got the entire line set and ready.  We did one last safety check of all of the gear as I readied myself to take that first step.
There I stood, at the very edge of a 65-foot rock face staring straight down, exactly what you’re not supposed to do.  Taylor Lais sat next to me holding the broomstick that would allow me to take a few steps away from the wall before letting go.  I teach slacklining to students at the rock wall all the time, but at this very moment I had forgotten all of the fundamentals.

My mind fought my body as I stepped onto the line.  I steadied myself with the pressure from the broomstick. My bare feet pressed hard into the line, as my legs quivered uncontrollably.  As cold as it was, bare feet make walking on a slackline easier and more comfortable.  It’s similar to doing yoga barefoot — you just have a better connection with what you’re standing on.
The most important aspect of slacklining is focus.  The slackliner must be able to focus constantly on the very end of the line.  If their focus is broken, then they lose their balance.  Have you ever tried to focus while standing on one-inch of nylon 65 feet in the air in a blizzard?  I may have been tethered to the line by a small chunk of climbing rope, but fear is a hard battle to win.
My hand let go of the broomstick and I stood teetering for a few second before I plunged into the open air below the line.  Falling from the highline was the most terrifying fall I’ve ever experienced and I’ve taken 20 to 30-foot free falls on climbing gear before.  But the five-foot fall into the nothing below the line and the yo-yo like bouncing that followed, made my stomach churn.

After I fell once, the memory of the fear I felt stayed fresh in my mind as I continued to step out onto the line.  After my first fall, I fell six more times, including the time my crotch caught all of my 175 pounds.  Four other students, Ben Ekeren, Taylor Lais, Logan DeBoer, and Tony Arampatzis tried their luck at the walk, all with no success.

Although we were unsuccessful in our attempt to make history, we all left feeling like winners.  We had just tried what may be the first outdoor highline ever attempted between the Black Hills and the Appalaichan Mountains.

My grandpa always said, “If you hit everything on your first shot, it wouldn’t be any fun.”

I guess that holds true with everything in life.

Most of the congregation filtered in over the last 10 minutes, and a majority of them brought their children in winter coats, avoiding them from the chill frosting the grass on their front lawns and windshields.
Soft, acoustic guitar music plays through the sanctuary’s speakers, and at 10:25 a.m. on Dec. 4, those sitting in First Lutheran Church in Brookings at the confluence of 8th Street and Main Avenue are in dialogue with a collective emotion

Members of Equip, an SDSU college ministry, sing Nov. 30. Each week, Equip members eat a meal, discuss Bible passages and form discussion groups. A survey shows students’ religious habits change once beginning college, with the percentage of weekly church attendance dropping nearly in half. -Collegian Photo by Kathy Kroether

sounding equal parts jovial and civil.
They take part in a “contemporary service” at the church, popularly known as Touchdown Jesus after the tall, painted mural of Jesus Christ standing elevated facing toward downtown.
On that morning, the early clouds break and illuminate the mural so brightly it appears computer-generated.
On the inside, Pastor Dave Schoeld walks up the stage in a beige sweater and says “Good Morning,” to which most below, especially the kids, shout “Good Morning!” in reply. Some laugh at the exuberance.
The sun begins to align itself with the building’s east windows, and by the time Schoeld begins his sermon its light gives the sanctuary’s large, metal-plated cross a shadowy glimmer and highlights the subtle contours of the symbol. The gold-colored edges look like it could cut flesh.
The congregation shakes hands, sings along with live music, takes communion and passes an offering plate in a choreographically determined way that seems to imply a routine and unanimous lack of confusion.
In this crowd, third and fourth-year SDSU students Betsy Hansen and Jace Harwood, Minnesota natives, sit in the fifth-to-last row. They walk in just after the service starts, but in fairness, it started a few minutes early.
Hansen and Harwood say they periodically attend church in Brookings, apart from their hometowns of Marshall and Jackson, Minn., but it isn’t routine. Hansen prefers her home church and admits that regular church attendance overall has seemed to take a hit during college.
“We’re college kids,” she says.
They represent evidence in a grander case study of the habits, beliefs and practices associated with college life. In a crowd dominated by husbands, wives, sons, daughters and even the elderly, a casual observer at Touchdown Jesus on that morning would conclusively find the least represented age bracket as 18 to 22-year-olds.
But like Hansen and Harwood, students at SDSU and all colleges are forced to take their faith on the road with them. The result can drastically reshape the complexion of a student’s entire religious conventions.
Some find a church or join an on-campus religious group and consider their faith stronger than it was years ago, or they find themselves back home for the same Sunday morning church proceeding they’ve had since childhood.
Others may find themselves caught up in a preponderance of social activities unearthed by individual freedom of choice associated with higher education. Away from home and away from Mom and Dad, those who used to attend church weekly may go months before attending again.
Others’ beliefs might completely change. Some may stop any beliefs for good.
Shoeld’s pacing the front of the aisles now, polling the members by a show of hands on the progress of their Holiday shopping and Christmas plans. It all circles around the preparation of life’s big events. How they just happen, he’ll describe.
“When do you know that you’re finally, fully ready?” Schoeld asks.
“When the day comes,” a child says.
“Great answer.”

***
The math of students’ religion

The SDSU student body is constituted from a majority of in-state students, with most other out-of-state students in neighboring states. Together, its collective childhood was largely based on Christian values – baptism, Sunday School, catechism, church youth group, confirmation and a belief in a son of God.
A survey conducted by The Collegian has revealed trends in the beliefs and the overall importance of faith and religion in an SDSU student’s life, from the time before they turned 18 to the moment they started attending college.
The results may surprise you.
Of the 235 respondents to the 10-question poll, almost 56 percent said they went to a church function on a weekly basis before they started in college.

SDSU students recently responded to a survey listing a majority of their religion under Christianity. More than 55 percent said they attended church regularly in high school. In college, the number drops to 29 percent, and nearly 25 percent say they've stopped going altogether.

After moving to Brookings, that weekly frequency dipped nearly in half to 29 percent, while nearly all other less-frequent options increased. To that end, those answering with “almost never,” “never,” or “only on religious holidays” more than doubled.
Right now, more than one-third of all SDSU students surveyed have almost completely abandoned their previous religious habits since starting college. And 18 percent overall said they’ve stopped going to church altogether.
That trend doesn’t particularly baffle sociologists, who are quick to allude to the time spent in college as being a transient moment in early adulthood.
“It doesn’t surprise me,” says sociology professor Ronald Stover. “But I think the interesting thing is to see if they start going back once they’ve completed school. I think what you’ll see is that some will start going back. You see a reflection of those results (of the survey) in going to class. In high school, kids had pressure to go to class or had outside pressure in going to class. They get here and all of a sudden Mommy and Daddy aren’t over their shoulder.”
But among SDSU students there is still a legion of young adults still invested in faith and active in a religion-oriented lifestyle. The most common answer to how frequently students attend church-related functions was still “weekly.”
In contrast, the second largest group of students said they no longer attend church — ever. It is as if students decide to attend church regularly, or not at all.
The answers contain no verifiable circumstance — it seems as though no wrong or absolute right reason exists. And how complex are the reasons for why or why not?
“For some people church is not just a connection with God, it’s a connection with people,” says 23-year SDSU religion professor Ann Marie Bahr. “Maybe they feel bereft of their community and they haven’t formed a new one of that sort — maybe other communities.”
Evidence in the survey may point to that. Nearly three-fourths of the respondents said they were not a part of a religious group on campus — and several exist. That percentage also shows little variance from 18-year-olds on up to fifth-year seniors.
Moreover, 83 percent categorized themselves as Christian, and a majority of those labeling themselves under Christianity stated the importance of religion in their lives to at least an 8 on a 1-to-10 scale.
Another 75 percent believe in an afterlife while 15 percent said they were “unsure.”
It appears – at least – students stand active on a spiritual level, but appear in limbo when it comes to a functional religious lifestyle.
“I think it’s the fact that they’ve moved away, and I don’t think we’d see the same trend if the same people were still back home — we wouldn’t see the same religious behaviors,” Stover says.
The male and female variances in beliefs show some decisive differences. A resounding 64 percent of females said they attended a church service weekly, and 75 percent of them overally claimed to attend church at least once a month before college. After high school, that weekly group drops nearly in half to 29 percent, with about one-fourth of all females claiming to attend seldom or not at all.
Females also seem to have a higher value of their religion. About 65 percent listed their faith a seven or higher on a scale of one to 10.
Males were less likely to attend church weekly growing up, with just 48 percent claiming to do so. The drop-off after college is less drastic than with females, with about 28 percent saying they go to church weekly.
But there are more males, overall, missing church than attending it regularly. The change of habits between genders is subject to hypothesis, but a faction of those familiar with the traits of students entering college say that females tend to like forming groups. That sentiment may extend to feeling like a member of a church, or church organization.
“From what I’ve observed, females may like the feeling of being a part of a community,” Bahr says. “There’s a connection there that attracts them.”
Bahr says she sees the spiritual curiosity throughout her time teaching religious courses at SDSU. Students routinely ask for the details of her religious beliefs, but that discussion in recent years on the topic of Christianity and other religions may be less volatile than ever before.
“Students seem to be maybe a bit more open to those different beliefs,” Bahr says.
With a change in scenery comes a change in behavior, says Stover. The impact of campus living, of thousands of kids in the age group away from home for the first time in their lives, can mean a strong reformation of habits, social activities and beliefs.
“There’s all sorts of experimenting going on,” Stover says. “Kids are beginning to think about relationships, kids will start drinking, deciding whether they get in to drugs, the kinds of ways they present themselves. And I think [religion] is just part of the same thing.”

***
Faith on the road

It’s like a full-time job.
Most hear that sentiment when mentioning the workload of a student athlete. And there’s a case for that, with practices, weight training, film study, walkthroughs, traveling, away games, home games, weekend series at Oral Roberts, eight-game road trips, 24-game road trips, the weekend conference championships in Michigan, long tossing, batting practice, conditioning at sunrise at Larson Hill, and on.
Pick a sport, then list demands. They all have them.
Then factor in a regular school schedule of quizzes, tests, papers, discussion posts, practicals, studios, readings, lectures, midterms and finals.
That load comes to a head in-season. In football, it means morning workouts and afternoon practices. Men’s basketball spent a portion of their Thanksgiving break on the road for eight-straight away games in a span of 19 days. For the women,

The weekly committments of playing team sports at SDSU put a strain on athletes to make use of their time off the court. Teams like the SDSU women's basketball team do prayers in hotel rooms during road trips when they can't attend church back home. -Collegian Photo by Kathy Kroeger

they were more than 2,500 miles away from home in Cancun, Mexico, on Thanksgiving Day for the Caribbean Challenge.
Next year, the baseball team will spend eight weekends traveling to states like Arkansas, Illinois and Colorado to begin their season.
“Some Sundays we’re on the road, and obviously we can’t come to church,” says women’s guard Jill Young, a member of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes, along with several others on the women’s basketball team. “We’ll have a service or a devotion in someone’s room, but it’s not mandatory or anything.”
It’s an alternative way of living for four months during the season. The Jacks women’s basketball team in particular has, in a little more than month, been to four states and Mexico. By the end of the season, they’ll have traveled to a dozen states. During the conference season, that means a Saturday night, Monday night pairing of games in different states.
Sunday often turns into travel day.
“You have to do some things a little differently, whether it’s walking through an airport, or before a game — whether it’s praying then or whatever you like to do,” says Young, a senior guard part of three SDSU teams that have experienced loads of on-court success via NCAA Tournament bids, and off-court success with team Grade Point Average.
Men’s basketball head coach Scott Nagy senses the spirituality that seems to come with his teams during his 15 years at SDSU. Nagy has headed Division II teams with perennial winning records, coached teams in the early days of Division I that lost up to 24 games one season and currently has his team in position for its second-straight winning season competing at the highest level.
And he notices the impact the schedule can have on his players. The Jacks just finished the longest road trip of his entire career.
“I don’t know if it’s any different from others’ circumstances; everyone’s challenged by circumstances,” Nagy said. “It can be tough, we get tired and are glad to be home.”
Forward Leah Dietel represents a minority in The Collegian’s student survey. The junior from Jordan, Minn., believes the tight-knit bond between athletes of her team has strengthened her religious beliefs.
“A lot of us are strong in our faith, and actually I’d say I’ve grown in my faith since I’ve come to college because of my teammates … we’ve become so close as friends that it’s just another aspect that we have.”
Then there’s pressure to perform. Some athletes make pre-season all-conference teams, or the hope to turn pro after their college career. Football players played their home games to an average crowd of more than 10,000 fans. The men’s basketball team played against power conference schools Minnesota, Georgia and Nebraska all on the road.
The women’s team has a chance to go its fourth-straight NCAA Tournament in just four years of eligibility at the Division I level. No other school has made the tournament in even its first two years of eligibility.
In moments where teams only have each other to fall back on, the willingness to rely on faith may increase for an athlete expected to perform.
“There’s a sense in sports, speaking in generalities, a sense of spirituality,” Nagy said “… To be on the spot like that, to have the pressure to fail, I think when you get put in those situations it generally makes you follow God … Just this sense of high intensity and nervousness to want to do well and trying to draw from an extra power.”

***
Worship
It’s the 13th Equip meeting of the school year at the Brookings First Baptist Church the night of Nov. 30, and right now Christa Juntenen stands on the sanctuary’s stage with a microphone in her hands. Her weight shifts to her left leg and then back to her right, and she’s sort of skipping in place like she’s slightly nervous.
At an even five-feet tall, she stands shoulder-level next to junior Caleb Nordquist, the Equip member to her right. She appears like a front-runner for shortest member of Equip.
Twenty-eight others sit in four rows of pews in conversations while others take the stage at the piano, drums and mic stand. The Equip attendees are about to sing, and Christa helps lead them.

O to grace how great a debtor
daily I’m constrained to be
Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
bind my wandering heart to thee.

The First Baptist Church has the atmosphere of every modest-sized place of worship constructed in the last century. Its floors creak; there’s the faint scent of wood lightly varnished faintly in the air. The doors take a full-body requirement

This is a common scene Wednesday nights as members of Equip speak to each other on the sanctuary's stage at First Baptist Church. Christa stands far shorter than fellow Equip members Ryan Buse (right) and Caleb Nordquist (left) so much so that the music stand almost completely blocks her face. -Collegian Photo by Kathy Kroeger

of braced foot planting, and an equal reliance of the shoulder muscles to adequately move the door ajar.
Like most buildings of its kind, the basement’s ceiling rests lower than most are used to, and the height of the floor seems to change depending on which area you walk.
On Wednesdays, the building hosts Equip, the church’s college ministry allowing anyone an opportunity for food, fellowship, singing and prayer. Its members are treated to dinner, play impromptu ping-pong and carpet ball with two-and-a-quarter inch regulation size balls, inquire about their Thanksgiving breaks and carry themselves with an aura that they want to be there. And it’s January.
Christa’s done eating at the front table, her boyfriend, Tyler, across from her.

Christa Juntenen sits at the edge of her chair in prayer with members of Equip, a campus ministry on campus. -Collegian Photo by Kathy Kroeger

“Eat some more,” he says.
“I’m full!” she says.
They talk more and at one point lock pinkies.
The night moves upstairs into the sanctuary. The light fixtures’ glow gives everyone inside the subtle pallor of greenish-yellow skin. The pews in rows of three contain holsters holding two Bibles and a book of hymnals. One after the other, from back to front.
There’s congestion in the stairway and the sound of children from inside tells Christa and her fellow Equip members to wait outside.
Some peer through the small, circular window into the sanctuary and see the kids jumping around. Eventually their lesson ends and a few run through the center aisle, rapidly past the pews, through the crowd, and down the stairs. The action brings some to laughter.
Up front now stands Ryan Buse, leading a prayer in a Green Bay Packers sweatshirt. He’s stammering, but the tone of his words indicates he knows what to say, but wants more than one word to come out at once.
There’s urgency in his voice. By the end, it’s nearly trembling.
“We’ve all hated God,” he’s saying. “We’ve all been angry at you, but we know how, how … awesome you are, God.”
The singing’s over, and now the members are embroiled in a week’s schedule that takes a vastly different approach from their usual night.
“It was a lot different this week,” Tyler says. “This was some heavy stuff.”
Equip’s staff member Brandon Pederson wants to raise money, in any way possible, to help fight against worldwide sex trafficking. No pressure, he says. It’s the holidays, and most members will unmistakably be with family back home.
“This is real,” Brandon says. “As Christians, we have to care and try and help these people.”
Christa is in the second row to the front, and Tyler has his left arm over her neck resting on her left shoulder. Her mind’s thinking she’s heard this somewhere.
This happens. A lot, she says. Thinking of one thing, then weeks later, she comes across that fleeting thought, or that prayer. Like deja vu. Echoes, she calls them.
“I was thinking about [sex trafficking] like three weeks ago,” Christa says. “I believe that God tells me something more than once in different situations intentionally.”
They break off into groups and now there are three sections of Equip members in various corners of the sanctuary. The fervor of the singing is a stark contrast to the quiet murmuring from the three groups immersed in prayer.
Christa’s in a metal folding chair by the back doors, elbows on her knees, face in her palms with the heels of her boots holding her feet on the horizontal rod near the floor. They take turns, one by one, in an undetermined cycle. Whoever wants to goes next.
“We just pray that we be captivated by your power,” Christa says.

***
Journey to faith

Christa cannot remember the point when her faith changed. It’s not like she drove to Walmart where she worked last summer

Christa Juntenen reads in the parlor of First Baptist Church. Juntenen, who transferred to SDSU last spring, plans to finish school and work in a hospital. -Collegian Photo by Kathy Kroeger

in South Carolina and had a revelation at a stoplight. She did not find God during one of her regular runs. She didn’t suddenly see something that previously wasn’t there. The moment didn’t happen in a surge of epiphanies.
She doesn’t know. It’s just always kind of been there. Sometimes weak, sometimes strong.
But that faith strengthened on a trip to Mississippi while rebuilding a house and volunteering at a nursing home. Something in the music she listened to, in the people she met, in the places she saw coalesced together. She formed a trust in God. It dug her out of what she thinks was depression.
Her friends describe her as goofy, spunky, bubbly, introspective, kind-of-private, wise, encouraging and compassionate. She likes compassionate. She agrees with compassionate. And she would also include introverted.
She remembers growing up through the church, in a way. Sometimes she would hide under the covers Sunday mornings, a thin attempt at having her parents forget she was in their own home.
She moved from Wisconsin where she was born, to
Darwin, Minn., a town of 300 whose hallmark rests as the home to the World’s Largest Ball of Twine. The parades are so

Christa Juntenen stands on the front steps of First Baptist Church. She stops there weekly. -Collegian Photo by Kathy Kroeger

short, they say, that the floats make two circles around, not one.
Her and her brother Jason’s friends would go to movies or bowling or have bonfires together. When they were younger, they played Pokémon or they’d set up a dancing act with music demos and routines they’d practice because, after all, they charged a quarter admission.
They did water sports including tubing on lakes around Darwin. They would sling each other around, Jason says.
They drove to school then back home after drumline practice in Jason’s 1999 Chrysler Neon.
“We always got along well,” she says. “Always been close, we haven’t fought much.”
She worked for the family business as a side job. One day, their father had an idea to convert old family videotapes to DVD’s, and Electric Canvas was born and is still in business — growing, actually.
And she can still hold a rhythm, her refined skills at drumming in middle and high school now showcased as a better-than-average djembe player in the Equip worship team.
Her college education didn’t start at SDSU, though. Transferring from North Central College, she ended up closer to home.
She’s noticed a change in the people.
“It seems like there’s a little more open-mindedness (here),” she says. “I’ve met some Buddhist friends — it’s really been interesting to see the differences in how they think.”
She thinks she’s found a place she’ll stay.

***
The kid with the sharp mind

He lives in an apartment with four other guys, a one-level place over by the Brookings mall with bunk beds, a $200 monthly rent check and a room of four computer screens no larger than a regular bathroom known simply as the “game” room.
Inside the game room are empty cardboard boxes, a TV resting high on the southeast corner, empty Mountain Dew cans, an XBOX 360 and Jason Juntenen with his best friend Tyler Thielsen playing the latest Role Playing Genre computer game on their laptop computers — League of Legends, aptly named.
They grew up talking together in front of a computer screen, they admit. For fun, they currently match up four-against-five

Jason Juntenen spend his childhood going to church with his family like many kids growing up. After graduating high school and starting college, his previous religious beliefs began completely changing. -Collegian Photo by Kathy Kroeger

in a battle sequence that lasts 40 minutes and ultimately leads to the two of them laughing about the outcome.
“We were mismatched,” Jason says. “And

By Carl Hesler

The hobo way of life has existed for more than a century, and according to hobo expert Linda Hughes, it shows no signs of stopping.

“With the way the economy is, we foresee this lifestyle to grow,” she said.

The standard definition of a hobo is “one who travels and works.” A tramp is one who travels but never works, and a bum never travels or works.

“‘Bum’ is a very big insult to hobos,” Hughes warned. “If you ride the rails for the first time, you have to be welcomed into the hobo community. You have to prove yourself.”

In a typical day, then, a hobo will ride trains to find work, Hughes said.

“They know all the trains,” said Hughes. “They know when they come and where they’re headed. They catch the right train and ride it to where they want to go. When they get to the town they want, they find some work to do — be it for a sandwich or a couple of cents.”

According to Hughes, hobo men usually work on farms, where they harvest wheat or beets. In the winter, many of them go to the southern United States to work in shipyards. Usually hobo women work part- or full-time jobs. Some of them even own homes and live normal lives. What sets hobos apart from everyone else, however, is their desire to live free in an obvious way.

“Steam Train Maury Graham, one of the great hobos, said that ‘Once you get that wanderlust in your heart, you have to go,’” Hughes explained. “But a hobo is a man before he is a hobo — don’t ever forget that. Hobos are exactly like the rest of us, except they have to be on the move all the time.”

While hobos value freedom and travel, they also feel a special bond with each other. Once a year, they gather by the hundreds in Britt, Iowa for the National Hobo Convention.

“It’s a town celebration,” said Hughes. “There’s a flea market, ‘Mulligan Stew,’ hobo games, a memorial service, a huge parade, and a car and truck show to end it on Sunday.”

The convention starts on a Thursday with an official fire lighting in Britt’s Hobo Jungle – a big campground where hobos spend the weekend. The Hobo King and Queen from the previous year give speeches and other hobos sing and read poetry. On Friday, hobos remember their forebears in a memorial service at the Hobo Cemetery in Britt. One of the previous Hobo Queens, Connecticut Shorty, conducts a tour of the cemetery.

On Saturday, Britt hosts a 5K/10K run and a parade, and hobos vote for the new king and queen. The weekend ends with a car show on Main Street and a craft show in the park.

The ties connecting Brookings and Brit, aside the first two letters of the names, are more than the celebration of the hobo tradition or reveling in freedom. Hughes said two past Hobo Queens — Adventurer Jan in 1975 and LuAnn Uhden in ’76 — had been SDSU students, at least according to rumor.

“It is talked about every year at [Britt’s] Hobo Day,” she said. “We always want some SDSU students to come out for the Convention.”

Several SDSU students take time to talk between class.

SDSU wanted to hire someone with years of experience and a unique perspective on diversity in academics. Jaime Nolan-Andrino fit this description.

As the chief diversity officer, Nolan-Andrino is responsible for a complex list of functions, the most important being to provide leadership. That leadership will extend to almost every department in order to promote SDSU’s diversity goals.

Nolan-Andrino was hired in July to fill the position, replacing Interim Officer Tim Nichols. She has spent 18 years working to build inclusive communities all over the country. Before coming to SDSU she worked at the University of Minnesota, Colgate University in New York and most recently the University of Massachusetts in Lowell, Mass.   She has not yet created a comprehensive plan to deal with diversity issues at SDSU.  “What’s really important for me right now is to listen,” she said. “The worst thing I could do is to walk on campus and say, ‘Here’s a vision,’ and then try to impose it.”

She said there is a spirit of willingness at SDSU to include people of all backgrounds. Her definition of diversity goes beyond race and ethnicity. For her, diversity is about identity.

“I think what’s really important is to really grapple with what diversity means at SDSU, and I think it comes down to building inclusive community,” she said.

One of Nolan-Andrino’s past successes was a program she started at Colgate University in Hamilton, N.Y. This program, called Breaking Bread, brought student organizations that would not normally interact together to share a meal. The students planned the menu, purchased ingredients, cooked and ate the meal together.

“I had student groups working together that you might not think would … like the Latin American Student Association and the Students For Environmental Action. Just partnerships that you wouldn’t really imagine, and they did some great things on campus,” she said.  The effect of recent budget cuts on how Nolan-Andrino will go about accomplishing her mission may actually be positive. She said that the lack of money will cause her to work more closely with others to achieve diversity goals, by helping people to find common goals.

“What the current situation is asking all of us to do is to work together more collaboratively, so that we can share resources in order to get things done, and maybe get things done in a way that can be more impactful,” she said.

Students check out Macs in the SDSU Bookstore. The new Apple store has had sustained success since students moved in three weeks ago.

The SDSU Apple Store has become a convenience for both students and faculty since it opened this summer. That convenience has reflected in sales and general buzz for one of 30 Apple stores opening on college campuses nationwide.

Now, there is easy access to computers and other technical gear.

“Things weren’t very active here, starting out right after new student orientation,” said Stephen Brua, marketing coordinator for the SDSU bookstore. “As time went on, business really started to pick up. We’ve sold close to 50 Macbooks. The iPads have been selling, too. Recently, we just blew our whole inventory of 13-inch and 15-inch computers.”

Brua has been a part of the Apple Store’s development since opening. He said the notion of the Store had been lingering for quite some time.

Other accessories seeing high sales are headphone brands like Skullcandy and UrbanEars. According to David Hubbard, employee and iPad expert, the latter brand has been a big seller.

Smaller ticket items, such as laptop cases, wireless keyboards and styluses, have sold out. Prices on Mac computers are also comparative to other suppliers.

“The store does a good job supplying students with items at competitive prices,” Hubbard said.

Compared with other computer stores, the SDSU Apple Store prices items like Macbooks from $200 to $250 less. Software like Microsoft Office Pro costs about $100, whereas other suppliers tag it to $150.

The Apple Store works in conjunction with the eSDSU Laptop Center. Five Mac repairmen are employed there in case hard drives need to be replaced or have crashed. These repairs are all free of charge.

Training sessions are given at basic, intermediate and advanced levels. These are for those who want to learn computer use or graphic design.

This means a big change in the way South Dakotans utilize Extension Services, closing its county offices and opening seven regional centers staffed by extension field specialists. That development means a new position to manage the regional centers.

Corn is just one of many crops that will benefit from iGrow

The new model and platform is centered around the website, iGrow, which will house all Extension information and provide access to information independent of a physical Extension office.

iGrow operates on a $500,000 budget and uses existing extension staff. No new staff members have been hired, so extension runs the website by requiring current staff to devote 20 percent of their time to its development. In response to the budget cuts, certain programs will be offered on a cost recovery basis, although education services will remain free.

Emery Tschetter, the assistant director for Planning and Special Projects, said although iGrow is new, it’s a way to prepare for the future.

“iGrow is a new operating system. It’s a platform that Extension will teach on, and a better way to continue our one-hundred year history of science based outreach to South Dakota,” he said.

Tschetter also said SDSU students may see iGrow in their classrooms in the near future.

iGrow is a first of its kind program in the Midwest and – according to Dunn – has great potential for growth in South Dakota.

“We found we could improve the old Extension model and adapt to the budget cuts simultaneously,” he said. “This is very new technology.”

Youth Programs like 4H will also be affected.

The new extension model will support one full-time 4H position in each county with more than 10,000 children and one part-time 4H position for every 2,500 youths in smaller counties.

Some say this restructuring will have a big affect on small economies in rural South Dakota.

“Initially, it’s going to mean that each county will lose a job. That $40,000 salary rolls through the economy eight times, that will be about $320,000 per county that will be lost in economic activity,” said State Rep. Frank Kloucek. He also noted that as early as Oct. 21, 99 Extension educators may be out of a job.

Others view the restructuring as a positive change. Peter Nielson, assistant director of South Dakota’s 4H youth programs, said this would empower youth by allowing them easier access to information and resources.

“We are bridging technology and tradition,” Nielson said. “We want to bring youth to the table, and we want young people to access information for themselves. This will allow them to operate at a higher level.”

Dunn said in a statement that the old method of disseminating information was no longer necessary or practical.

“Given the budget reductions, face-to-face delivery as the primary teaching method for Extension is no longer financially practical or socially required for most audiences,” Dunn said, also noting that with South Dakota farmers and ranchers having some of the highest adoption rates of technology in the country.

“It didn’t make sense to keep offering them Extensions’ 100-year-old model,” he said. “We found we could adapt to budget cuts while also staying with the times.”

Chad Nielson, the Farmers Co-op Elevator agronomy manager, said he and farmers he knows will be affected little by the restructuring.

“I don’t know that most people need an Extension office anymore,” said Nielson. “Thirty years ago, it might have been a big deal. I don’t need to see them in person, I just pick up the phone.”

SDSU began researching possible operational alternatives to the current Extension model in August 2009 by surveying attendants of Dakotafest – the state’s largest agricultural festival – to see how they consume information. SDSU has pioneered much of the research related to how farmers consume information.

“Several similar corporate attempts at a program like this have been made in the agriculture industry, but what ensures our success is the unbiased nature of our information,” said Dunn.

Heather Mangan (right) with her house mother in Niger during her first Peace Corps mission.

Heather Mangan travelled to Niger, Africa in July 2010 hoping for two years to make a difference as a member of the Peace Corps.

As proof that things do not always go as planned, Mangan was forced out of Africa after only six months when Al-Qaeda killed two French volunteers in Niger.

“It was so hard to leave when I felt like I was just starting to get into the swing of things,” she said.

Before leaving the United States for Niger, Mangan sold her car, phone, and almost anything else of value because these would be unnecessary while in
Africa.

So when the unexpected happened, it left her in a cloud of doubt.

“I knew where my life was going to be for two years and it was taken away from me in only a few days time,” she said. “That was really scary … I came home in February and I was in a haze for two months just thinking ‘What am I going to do now?’”

She’s now getting a chance to finish what she started. After moving back to her hometown of Pierre to work as a reporter for the Capital Journal, Mangan said she could not shake off her experience and all she felt she had yet to accomplish. She needed to go back.

“I had my heart yanked out of me once, so people ask me why I would want to go back, but I have things I still want and need to do,” Mangan said. “I had my heart broken once and I would never want another experience taken from me again, but I can’t let that stop me.”

This time, Mangan will locate to Lesotho, a country Mangan said is about the size of Rhode Island.

Mangan will teach the English language to people as her main duty and educate young girls on the dangers of HIV and AIDS.

She will fly out to Lesotho on Oct. 14 to begin learning the native language before she can start her mission. She was able to speak French – a language she could partially speak – on her previous trip. However, this time she said she and around 32 other volunteers are beginning from scratch.

Besides learning a new language, she will have no running water, electricity or Internet access.

On the rare occasions when she has Internet access, Mangan said she will tap into her background as a journalist and spend this time blogging as a way to keep her friends and family back home up-to-date on her experiences until her set return in December 2013.

“For me it’s a big thing to record something while it’s happening. I’m not sure if the posts will be anything but memories for myself or if it’ll ever turn into something published, but I’ll enjoy looking back on it when this is all said and done.”

Although heading to a foreign land is nerve-wracking, especially considering her first experience, Mangan said she is in the perfect stage of her life to do another Peace Corps mission.

“One of hardest things about going back is I’ll be turning 27 years old right before I go and when I come back I’ll be close to 30 and you think of your timeline – the ‘Where do I want to be when I’m 30’ – and it’s scary,” she said. “I don’t want to look at 30 years down the road that I wish I would have done. I know this is what I want so I’m going after it.”

To stay current with Heather Mangan on her mission in Lesotho, read her blog at www.heathermangan.com.

Some downtown retailers are scrutinizing Pub Crawl, saying it takes away from prime Saturday shopping business. The Brookings City Council, although it can advise taverns change the event, cannot stop the St. Patrick’s Day celebration from happening.

Pub Crawl is under fire after complaints from downtown businesses and locals say the event shines a negative light on the community and interferes with business for retailers not participating in the annual beer bash.

The Brookings City Council has discussed the concerns at its meetings and Brookings City Manager Jeff Weldon said although the council can advise Downtown Brookings Inc., and tavern owners about the concerns, the decision on whether or not changes are made ultimately rests with the hosts of the event.

“This is not a city-sanctioned event, so the council has no control over whether or not changes are made or if it’s cancelled,” Weldon said. “There’s no law saying people can’t move from place to place in a large group.”

Weldon said the number one complaint against crawlers has been public intoxication. However, despite being an argument against Pub Crawl, Weldon said arrests have been relatively low during the event that takes place around St. Patrick’s Day.

“By and large we have not had a lot of arrests on that day, but there’s still concern that it’s getting out of hand,” he said.

The city council has asked Downtown Brookings Inc., to see if changes could be made to the event, including a change to the event’s hours so it starts later in the afternoon or evening to give other retailers a better chance at maintaining regular business, Weldon said.

Jeremy Deutsch, manager of Cubby’s Bar and Grill said Pub Crawl is a traditional event that brings in big business for not only Cubby’s but also other taverns. He does not foresee any major changes happening in the near future.

He said even if Cubby’s advertised crawlers start later in the day, he would still have people ready to walk through the doors at 11 a.m. when the restaurant opens.

“We’ve tried having it start later. One year we said we would start it at 4 p.m. and another time at 1:30 p.m., but regardless of that people are going to come down when they want to come down,” Deutsch said.

Deutsch also said although Pub Crawl is growing every year, Cubby’s works to make sure the event is safe for participants by not over-serving, offering food and water to those who need it, and working with police officers.

“We’re taking steps to keep people safe and if people are in rough shape, we try to get them rides,” said Deutsch.

Dillon Morris, a senior advertising major from Sturgis, said he participated in Pub Crawl last year and although the streets were flooded with people, he said he never felt his safety was in jeopardy.

“I think whenever you put that many people in a centralized area, add alcohol and music you can expect things to get really busy, but I never felt things got out of hand,” Morris said.

Although much of the scrutiny toward the Pub Crawl has come from downtown businesses, Cheryl Meyer, owner of Party Depot in downtown Brookings, said she has no problem with the event.

“I haven’t had any complaints from customers or had people come into my store and act inappropriately during Pub Crawl, so as long as it continues to not interfere with my business I don’t have a problem with it,” she said.

Other opposing businesses say the event is harmful and would rather see it disappear. Cover to Cover Manager Laurie Wilts said the bookstore sees a noticeable drop in business on the Saturday of Pub Crawl.

“I think it’s really unnecessary and the event hurts our business,” Wilts said. “If people want to go to the bars that’s all fine and dandy, but when it starts deterring from the family downtown atmosphere it hurts retail business during the day because then people don’t want to be out shopping during something like that.”

Morris said although he can understand why retail businesses may be turned off to Pub Crawl, it only happens once a year.

“It’s one day out of the year, and yes it’s a long day, but the bars can argue that the money other businesses lose in that one day can’t compare to how much the bars make,” he said. “I’m sure other businesses lose a small percentage, but honestly for how well the bars do on that day, it’s not worth shutting down.”