- Author: Mike Hsu
Between 4th and 8th grade, Brent Hales had acquired from those years in 4-H a lifetime's worth of skills, a group of lifelong friends, an expanded perspective on the world – and the track suit of his dreams.
The middle child of seven kids, young Brent knew his family couldn't afford to buy a track suit off the rack. So he saved up money, bought the Navy blue fabric and pattern, and took on sewing as one of his many 4-H projects during the 1980s. Just one problem: he ended up making it inside-out, with the fuzzy side facing outward.
“And then, by the time I actually completed it, I had outgrown it, so I gave it to my younger brother,” Hales recalled with a laugh.
Hales still enjoys sewing, although he rarely finds time for it, given his many duties as UC Agriculture and Natural Resources' associate vice president for research and Cooperative Extension.
One of his responsibilities is helping to oversee the 4-H program in California, which, along with its counterparts across the country, is celebrating National 4-H Week Oct. 1–7. In a recent interview, Hales shared some of his favorite experiences as a 4-H club member growing up in Aurora, Utah, as well as some of the enduring impacts from his participation.
The mere mention of 4-H must bring back a torrent of memories, images and stories. Can you share one experience that stands out for you?
At the end of the summers, the leader of our horse club, Dan Thompson, would take us on a weeklong horse ride. In order to qualify, you had to demonstrate horsemanship, you had to be able to take care of your horse, and show a certain amount of leadership.
Dan had the kids take the lead; he planned the route but then he would ride in the back. Each day of the horse ride, we would take turns at various aspects of leadership within the week. We would get to a point and we would discuss where we were going; we would discuss points along the trail that we needed to be looking for. But, invariably, all with him in the back, allowing us to lead. He wanted us to lead the whole thing.
You could imagine sending a group of 11-, 12-, 13-year-old kids on a weeklong horse ride with a guy would be daunting enough. But the most important thing you need to understand is the amount of trust that we had in him, he had in us, and our parents had in him – because Dan was blind.
He had gone blind late in life. He knew the trails well enough that he could describe what we were going to see, and he could describe where we were going to stay, but he left it up to us to share information and lead.
You think about the types of skills that it taught us – I have cold chills thinking about that – and the confidence that it instilled in us was so powerful. In a community where less than half of the kids went on to a four-year degree program, all 11 of us in the horse club completed four-year degrees, and all of us are continuing to be very successful.
In addition to leadership skills, public-speaking skills, sewing skills and horsemanship…what else did 4-H teach you?
We actually got involved quite a bit in the arts – the visual arts, the performing arts. Because of that, I went to college on a vocal performance scholarship, which I tie right back to 4-H.
We put on an annual musical at the county fair, which translated to being involved in musicals at school and other performing groups. It paved the way for me to go to a much better school than probably was in my academic trajectory otherwise, so I went to BYU as an undergrad.
I realized very quickly how out-classed I was in terms of the vocal performance and ultimately changed majors – but I stayed involved and had the opportunity to do quite a bit of traveling and touring with various musical groups. In the last three years, I've sang at both Carnegie Hall and the Kennedy Center, as part of ensembles and groups. What a long tail my 4-H involvement has had, in encouraging my love of music and of performing!
In what other ways did 4-H shape who you are today, personally and in your career trajectory?
My hometown of Aurora was settled by my fourth great-grandfather, so I was actually related to about 85% of that small town. And so I had a very myopic view of what the world looked like.
What 4-H did was it showed me that there's a much larger world out there. Because of 4-H, I engaged with different kids from different backgrounds, different ideologies, different life expectations than that of my own. And it opened a world I never knew existed, number one, and that I had a place in that world.
So the thought of moving from my safe, rural community…when I was a little kid, that was the last thing that I wanted. But after engaging with kids from not just across Utah, not just across the country, but across the world, it created a hunger in me to learn and to know and to experience. And that has yet to be satisfied!
Every time I remember and relive my 4-H years, I'm reminded of why I do this job – to enable others, perhaps, to be that kid that I was, and see beyond what their worldview is, or the limitations of their culture, identity and hometown.
On top of your 4-H role as a part of the leadership team at UC ANR, you're also on the strategic planning board for the national 4-H organization. How has 4-H continued to evolve over the years?
With COVID, when I was at Penn State, we shifted online and we saw a whole new generation of kids who would not have ever joined 4-H as a result. We created statewide programs, instead of the traditional clubs, and that brought together kids who normally would not have been drawn to it. And instead of meeting face-to-face, we met virtually and we sent out activity boxes ahead of time. Then, post-COVID, what surprised us is that the online clubs – the clubs we kind of anticipated going away – those actually continued to grow.
So how we reach the kids has evolved as much as the type of kids that we are seeing come in. And it has had to – if we marketed 4-H to an ever-shrinking rural population of on-farm kids, it would quickly become irrelevant. And so the way we market to them, the way we bring them in, the way we encourage and facilitate discussion, the way topics and areas of interest are identified – those continue to evolve and I hope will drive the next iteration of what 4-H looks like. Because it doesn't look anything like what I grew up with – granted, that was a long time ago, over 40 years ago! And I would say in 10 years 4-H probably won't look like what it looks like now. And that's a good thing.
- Author: Saoimanu Sope
In celebration of Hispanic Heritage Month
In the small town of Buga, located in Valle del Cauca in southwestern Colombia, Jairo Diaz-Ramirez prioritized salsa dancing over his studies. His parents, noticing that he was having too much fun on weekends, reminded Diaz that schoolwork comes first. “I used to dance a lot and spend time with friends when I was a teenager, and I didn't pay full attention to schoolwork,” he said.
Diaz, director of the UC Desert Research and Extension Center – one of nine centers under University of California Agriculture and Natural Resources – located in Holtville, was born and raised in Colombia, where the life of a farmworker was all too familiar.
Before Diaz's father joined the army, he worked in the fields. Describing his father as an “autodidactic person,” Diaz said that his father acquired many skills throughout his life and could “fix pretty much everything.” Others knew this about Diaz's father, often referring to him as “el cientifico” or the scientist.
“My hometown is surrounded by agriculture, and I saw farmworkers all the time. What they do is difficult work, it's hard,” he said. Even though Diaz has a career in agriculture today, he did his best to avoid it when he was in school.
In high school, Diaz focused on math and science, believing it would lead him down a different career path. When he graduated in 1990, Diaz didn't have many options for a college education in his area. “There was barely internet in my hometown,” he recalled, adding that it was a challenge to find professional mentors, too.
“I didn't know what I wanted to study,” said Diaz. “But when I passed the entry test for college, I just decided on electrical engineering.” As a freshman in college, Diaz found himself in a different environment with rules and expectations he was not used to. “I lost focus,” he said.
In fact, his poor academic performance led Diaz to drop out of college. He described this decision as, “the inflection point that changed the course of his life.” Realizing that he took a great opportunity for granted, Diaz wanted to return to school. After passing the college entry exam a second time, his test results matched him to the following career options: agricultural, sanitary or chemical engineering.
Because it required fewer chemistry courses, Diaz decided to pursue agricultural engineering. The more he learned, the more interested he became in irrigation, watershed management, soil and water conservation. In 1997, he obtained a bachelor's degree in agricultural engineering from National University of Colombia and University of Valle.
Realizing there's more to agriculture
There was a shift in perspective that occurred for Diaz, one that made him see other pathways into agriculture other than farm labor.
“I always saw the workers in the field from four in the morning to six at night, even on Saturdays,” Diaz said. “But I never saw what was behind agriculture. Labor is one thing, but there's also the science, education, management, engineering… I didn't see that when I was younger.”
In 2001, after two years of working as a part-time instructor at community colleges in his hometown, Diaz moved to Puerto Rico, where he earned a master's degree in water resources engineering from University of Puerto Rico. Although he would have liked to attend graduate school in his home country, career opportunities were limited.
“I considered schools in Spain and Chile, somewhere the people speak Spanish,” said Diaz, sharing that the ability to learn in Spanish was his preference.
Meeting students halfway
Eventually, Diaz moved to Mississippi, earning a doctorate in water resources engineering at Mississippi State University before he began teaching at Alcorn State University – the oldest public historically Black land-grant institution in the nation – where his role as a mentor easily became his favorite part of that journey.
As an assistant professor, Diaz said that many students he worked with at Alcorn State struggled with higher level courses of agriculture. “Some of my students started with me when they were freshmen and I got to see them progress over the years,” said Diaz.
Now, many of them work for the federal government and non-governmental organizations, and some have even moved to other states, away from everything and everyone they know.
“It reminds me of my own people,” Diaz said. “How challenging education can be, and how limited you feel, and being afraid to move away from home…that's what many of us BIPOC [Black, Indigenous, people of color] experience.”
Once a mentor, always a mentor
In Imperial County, where Diaz currently lives, more than 80% of the population is Hispanic. According to Diaz, many of the students in Imperial can relate to those he taught in Colombia, Puerto Rico and Mississippi, struggling to navigate education. “A lot of the students also think like me when I was their age. They don't find agriculture appealing because it's too hard.”
That's where Diaz steps in and shows them a different side of agriculture, one that he wishes someone would have shown him when he was younger. When he visits local schools, or hosts student groups at Desert REC, he teaches students that agriculture offers a broad spectrum of opportunities.
“Agriculture is not just about people in the fields, it's people in the labs, at the computers and in the classroom. It's people managing others, figuring out economics and building systems,” he said.
Given his background in hydrology, irrigation systems and water resources, Diaz relies on water as the element to engage students in conversations about agricultural careers. “To produce food, we need water. Plants need water to live and so do we. Water is key,” he tells students.
“I know how much of a difference it makes to have someone guide you professionally. So, I want to be that person for my community, especially the younger generation.”
As a director, Diaz has an open-door policy to encourage frequent interactions with his colleagues. “It's important to me that the people I work with know that I want to support them,” said Diaz, who prefers colleagues call him by his first name.
“Sometimes you hear that someone is a ‘doctor,' and it creates a divide right away,” he said.
While reflecting on his role and impact, Diaz said that he wants to be known as a genuinely good person. “I want to be a good collaborator, create meaningful programs, and grow a healthy industry.”
These days, Diaz doesn't spend much time on the dance floor, but he won't shy away from an opportunity to relive his adolescence. “I have created my own career path with the support of my family, mentors and friends,” he said. “I still have fun, but I also focus when I need to.”
To watch a past feature on Diaz in celebration of Hispanic Heritage Month, visit: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ksNc7qDCOVo.
To read this article in Spanish, visit: https://espanol.ucanr.edu/Abriendo_Caminos/?blogpost=58085&blogasset=139086.
- Author: Saoimanu Sope
The first time Chris Wong ever laid eyes on Romanesco broccoli was while he was selling it at a farmers market in Davis. Although the broccoli was marketed as locally sourced and organically grown, Wong remembers reading the label on the produce box: Holtville, California – 15 minutes from Wong's hometown, located more than 600 miles south of Davis.
Wong, CalFresh Healthy Living, UC Cooperative Extension community education supervisor for Imperial County, grew up in the community he now serves. In his role, he identifies opportunities to improve community health whether it be increasing access to healthy food, making neighborhoods more conducive for exercise, or simply educating the public.
But it was his college experience at UC Davis that catapulted his career focused on food systems and community health. Because he lived in UC Davis' Student Co-op Housing, he found himself surrounded by peers studying food science or agriculture.
“I was heavily influenced by the things they spoke about,” he said, adding that he was inspired to get involved with the local farmers market in Davis. “I started working at a farmers market, selling local, organic produce at very high prices to very privileged people in Davis, including students.”
He was troubled that the produce was transported from Imperial County – from towns like Brawley and Holtville, where Wong grew up – and yet he had never seen some of the products he was selling in Davis.
After spending a few years going back and forth between Davis and his hometown, Wong moved back home to Calexico fulltime in 2015. Eager to locate the nearest farmers market after his experience in Davis, he learned that the nearest one was in a city north of Calexico.
A grant provided by the U.S. Department of Agriculture helped a Calexico based non-profit organization establish a farmers market in a neighboring community of El Centro, identified as a food desert, yet the farmers market was in a different city.
“It wasn't the same as the one in Davis. They didn't even have produce, just food and craft vendors,” he said. Wong felt motivated to make a change.
“I asked the coordinators of that farmers market if I could volunteer with them. I asked them about the process of establishing a farmers market. Then I started sending Facebook messages to city council members and other community leaders and was able to get a meeting with them,” Wong said.
A fresh start for his hometown
On Oct. 6, 2013, Wong and a few others launched the first-ever farmer's market in Calexico. Wong described opening day as “almost a failure” because of the lack of available produce. “It was really tough; we had a lot of build up for it. We had a distributor who came to provide produce, but it took a while before we got produce vendors to the site,” he said.
Even though Wong's hometown is also home to 500,000 acres of farmland, many of the farms in the Imperial Valley are commercial or industrial farms. This means that the crops have already been contracted to end up at stores like Costco before they're even planted.
“We even got the Romanesco broccoli to be sold in Calexico,” said Wong.
For six years, Calexico had a farmers market that community members benefitted from. When he wasn't securing vendors, Wong was attending community alliance meetings to promote the market and its effort to bring healthy, fresh options to the kitchen table. In 2019, the market shut down after the City of Calexico's Community Services Department Director retired and the department restructured.
Determined to succeed
During his first year at UC Davis, Wong, an anthropology major at the time, struggled as a student and felt ill-prepared to manage the intense coursework that lay ahead. “I just couldn't get the right grades or write good papers,” he said. Before the spring semester of his first year concluded, Wong was academically dismissed from UC Davis.
“There's a joke in my hometown that people say to students who go off to college,” said Wong. “Before you leave, people will say ‘see you next year' because a lot of us don't finish college and return home.”
Returning home was never an option for Wong. He was determined to stay the course, noting that he couldn't return home with student debt and no degree. To get himself back on track, Wong took summer courses at UC Davis and enrolled in remedial English classes at Sacramento City College. In total, he spent an entire school year and two summers making up for his academic shortcomings.
Wong's efforts at Sacramento City College paid off. He was able to reenroll at UC Davis and graduated with a bachelor's degree in Spanish Literature with a minor in Latin American Hemispheric Studies.
Remembering his roots
There's no doubting that the California/Mexican border holds a special place in Wong's heart. His father, of Chinese descent, and his mother met in Mexicali, where Wong's mother is from, and got married against their parents' will.
“They got married in secret and had me in secret because my Chinese grandmother did not approve of the relationship,” said Wong, describing her as “traditional.”
Growing up, Wong remained connected to his Mexican heritage but not so much his Chinese culture. Wong, along with his three younger siblings, are all fluent in Spanish but if you speak to him in Cantonese, like his paternal grandmother does, he'd only be able to make out a few words and phrases.
Wong's father grew up speaking Chinese in his home in Mexicali. When he would attend school in Calexico, however, most students spoke Spanish. The constant shift in language confused Wong's father, causing him to flunk the third grade. To ensure his children didn't experience the same challenges, Wong's father purposefully withheld from teaching Wong or his siblings Cantonese.
Wong's ability to speak Spanish, the language of the community he serves, has empowered him to connect with residents on a deeper level. Of the many things that Wong has accomplished, he is most proud to be giving back to the community that raised him. In 2017, he joined UC ANR as a UC Cooperative Extension community education specialist for Imperial County before becoming a community education supervisor in 2022.
Despite the setbacks that could have easily derailed Wong, he remains steadfast and is always looking for ways to improve his community's health. “I'm eternally grateful for the opportunity to serve my home community as a representative of the UC,” Wong said. “Visiting my old classrooms and teachers to provide their current students with quality educational experiences I may not have had growing up, brings me the utmost joy.”
- Author: Julienne Cancio
Saoimanu "Saoi" Sope, UC Agriculture and Natural Resources digital communications specialist, was born on Aunu'u, an island in American Samoa, but raised in Southern California. She attended UC Santa Cruz for her undergraduate degree in film and digital media. While in the program, she felt lost compared to her peers.
“I didn't know what type of stories I wanted to tell through film, especially compared to my other classmates,” Sope said. “For a lot of them, it seemed like they had been planning on being filmmakers their entire life. This major was my backup plan.”
To gain more perspective, she took on a second major in community studies, a unique and interdisciplinary field that prepares students to apply the lessons they learn in the classroom to the real world, through a six-month field study.
Sope completed her field study at the RYSE Youth Center in Richmond, teaching Black and Brown youth how film can be used as a tool to navigate their trauma. Through this experience, Sope learned about public health, which she pursued in her master's program at Columbia University's Mailman School of Public Health.
In 2018, Sope learned about UC ANR as an employee of Driscoll's. Her boss at the time coordinated a field trip to the UC ANR office in Davis to learn more about successful agriculture communications. Four years later, in June 2022, Sope joined the Strategic Communications team. 
“It was a full-circle moment,” she said. “When UC ANR posted the job description for the role I have now, I saw it and applied like anyone else. Luckily, I got an interview and now I'm here.”
When talking about her interactions with Southern California researchers and staff as a digital communications specialist, Sope attributes much of her success to her culture and upbringing. “I think one of my superpowers is that I can work with people in a way that makes them feel valued and seen and heard,” she explained.
She talked about her Samoan background, one that emphasizes the importance of hospitality. Known as the “happy people of the Pacific,” Samoans are very big on caring for and hosting others, Sope said. “How we treat others reflects our value of community,” she explained.
Sope brings this into the room with the people she is interviewing and to the impactful stories she is writing. She makes it known to her interviewees that their time is valuable and their story is worth reading.
As she grows older, Sope said, she realizes how much of her culture has influenced her work ethic. She appreciates that May is Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) Heritage Month, an opportunity to celebrate and bring recognition to the beautiful and diverse cultures of marginalized communities in the U.S.
Although AAPI communities are clumped into one phrase, it is important to remember that there are many diverse groups of people within this term that are often overlooked, such as Native Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders.
When speaking about her Polynesian culture, the saying “it takes a village to raise a child” really speaks to Sope. In Samoan culture, it is common for parents to give legal guardianship of their child to other family members. In the U.S., this is formally known as adoption. This is the case for Sope; she was “gifted” to her adoptive mom by her birth mom.
“But one thing that's really beautiful about the Samoan culture is that we always know where we come from,” she said. “We know who our birth parents are…it's not a secret, and it's not shameful.”
Overall, Sope is most proud of coming from a culture that places such a high value on community. This can be seen through her influential writing, bringing awareness and attention to UC ANR staff and researchers who make great contributions to the academic world and the greater SoCal communities.
In conveying their stories, Sope said she hopes they realize and reflect on their potential and the importance of their own work.
- Author: Saoimanu Sope
Max Fairbee spent his high school years moving around Southern California to cities like Covina, La Verne, Pomona and Apple Valley, hoping that his mother would find stability in the next place they'd call “home.” After attending five different high schools, Fairbee decided to take the California High School Proficiency Exam and earned his diploma that way.
Eventually, he accepted a job at Tower Records in West Covina, working there for six years. “Until my current job, Tower Records was the longest position at a single company I ever held,” said Fairbee. “That's where I began to discover myself and understand diversity and acceptance.”
Fairbee loved the arts and wanted to find a career where he could utilize creativity and share his appreciation of the arts. Attending Orange Coast College and Platt College, he spent time learning typography, photography, fine art and graphic art.
Unsure of what he wanted to do next and struggling to secure employment as a graphic artist, Fairbee took a job at the North Coast Co-Op, a natural foods grocery store in Eureka, after moving to Humboldt County in 2009. Fairbee worked at the co-op for over three years and while he worked in various positions, his most valuable role was conducting food demonstrations.
“My inclination for community service started in that food co-op,” said Fairbee. “I learned about where food comes from, what goes into your food, food sustainability, and all of the lights in my head went off.”
Fairbee began working as a mental health technician, teaching life skills to adults with different levels of learning abilities. “I was teaching them how to do things, like, managing medication and doing laundry,” Fairbee said. “At the same time, I was developing their appreciation for art and music by hosting workshops.”
Teaching becomes a path forward
Channeling his appreciation for healthy living and love for teaching, Fairbee now works in Alameda County, developing and delivering nutrition education classes for older adults, almost half from the Chinese and Vietnamese communities in Oakland and the surrounding area. He teaches them ways to achieve and sustain healthy lifestyles through the Eat Healthy Be Active Community Workshops.
The lessons are centered on understanding what is healthy and why. One of the skills Fairbee teaches his students is how to read a nutrition facts label. At some sites, he also incorporates gardening education using edible plants.
“I told myself that I would never take a job where I didn't go home and like to talk about my work,” Fairbee said.
Naturally, Fairbee went on to describe how proud he feels about his work with older adults in the Bay Area. In mid-April, Fairbee celebrated his recent class of graduates who are all over the age of 60. Students were highly engaged in the lessons about healthy living and Fairbee had 23 students complete the course.
“There's a lot of language barriers, so, I rely on interpreters a lot,” Fairbee explained. “You would think that after six weeks, and with a language barrier you'd have fewer students complete a course like this. But no, not my students.”
Remaining physically active is a recurring topic and activity throughout the six-week course, according to Fairbee, who noticed an association between physical activity and happiness.
“I had a 98-year-old student who invited me to her birthday party at the Oakland Zoo one time,” Fairbee recalled. “Apparently she did that every year and she invited all her friends.”
Community service is ‘paying it forward'
Fairbee said that the friendships he has cultivated over the years have played a significant role in his desire to give back. Born in Indiana, Fairbee said that growing up, he always knew he needed to come to California.
“I watched a lot of Brady Brunch growing up. For some reason, they had this perfect life and I wanted that,” he said. Eventually, Fairbee's parents divorced, and his mother moved to Southern California and took him with her when he was 13.
“When my mom brought me to California, she saved my life,” said Fairbee.
He didn't know why, but he knew that he couldn't stay in that Indiana community. Perhaps it was the blatant racism or xenophobia that he observed within his own family or others. Either way, Fairbee was adamant about moving westward.
“I'm very different from my family,” said Fairbee. “For one, I'm gay. But also, we just have different beliefs in how to treat people,” he explained.
Fairbee said that the people who made his life in California full of “magical moments” were friends and their families. He remembered celebrating Thanksgiving with a friend, and how much more fun and special it was compared to the holiday spent with his own family.
“Over the years, I noticed that since I moved to California in the '80s, important holidays and celebrations were made special because of my friends,” he said.
The opportunity to spread love and kindness is what keeps Fairbee motivated. “Community service comes from the kindness of others. That's what my friends did for me and the work I do now is my way of paying it forward,” he said.
Fairbee says that he cannot describe the feeling of community service, but that when you have done it once or twice, there's no greater reward.
“There's like a million thank you's and at the end of the day, you feel full. And not from food, but of love,” he said. “Honestly, I'll be doing this work until I retire. I can't see myself going anywhere else now.”
