Editor’s Note: This is the first in a series of three posts from Lexi, our summer intern here in the Alumni Communications office. She’ll be sharing some of her stories and experiences at UMBC over the coming weeks.

Let me introduce myself. Hi, I’m Lexi.
I’m a 21 year old from Camden, Delaware,
where nothing exciting ever really happens, except for a few weekends each year. Slowly but surely, events like NASCAR and the Firefly Music Festival are putting the little old diamond state on the map, and less and less people ask me which state Delaware is in.

I’ll give you a little background info about myself. I’m an only child, sans the mythical only-child syndrome, and grew up with a veterinarian for a dad and the best mom a girl could ever ask for. My shoes of choice are barn boots, and I have a caught more than a few snakes in my time. My home is more or less a farm. Or a zoo. It just depends on the day. We have five dogs, two cats, a pond full of fish, honeybees, three horses, and a donkey, give or take a wandering raccoon or opossum.

While we don’t actually harvest crops or breed cattle, my home used to be in the agricultural heart of Delaware. Less than a mile away is a massive potato farm. Turn left from there, and you’re surrounded by the biggest stalks of corn you could possibly imagine. Sure, there’s still a pretty big population near us, and we don’t live on a dirt road, but on the right day it’s as if you’re isolated from the hustle and bustle cities are known for. But that’s home to me. So for me, Baltimore was a little bit of an eye-opener.

I came to UMBC not really understanding how close I was to the city. As a freshman, I didn’t have a car, so I relied on upperclassmen friends to take me wherever I needed to go. Come sophomore year when I had my own car, I had no idea where anything was. I never bothered to learn the back roads or highways, because I never needed to know. I used my phone’s GPS to get me to the Arbutus Wal-Mart. I tried to get to an art store for a class, and my lack of knowledge about traffic and the number of different highways there are turned a 20-minute trip turned into a two-hour adventure.

Delaware has one, two-lane highway without stoplights. Route one runs north to south through the state and can take you wherever it is you need to go. Just to get to the art store I had to take four different highways. I learned how to merge really quickly. I also learned that my GPS doesn’t work well in cities. After being told to turn right, go straight and then turn left, and go through a hotel lobby, all while sitting at the same traffic light for five minutes, I finally caved and pulled out the map I stash in my car to find the best back roads. With much honking, yelling, and arm waving, I somehow cut across three lanes to get where I needed to go. Drivers in Baltimore seemed much more uptight than Delawareans. But, then again, I probably deserved all the dirty looks.

Besides the minor directional issues, my trip to the art store was relatively uneventful until I had to park (parallel park, at that). That’s probably a story left for a better time, though.

-Lexi Coon

Mary Volkman ’92, English, is a Baltimore native who writes fiction under the pen name “Margo Christie.” Her first novel, These Days: A Tale of Nostalgia on Baltimore’s Block, relies not only on the author’s time working in show bars on the city’s most notorious stretch of real estate (right under the shadow of City Hall, hon) in the 1970s and ’80s, but also in her careful attention to the reminiscences of those who’d been there during the heyday of burlesque just after World War II.

But Margo Christie wrote the book. So let her tell it:

It’s often said first novels are autobiographical, inspired by the author’s coming-of-age and family of origin. Just as often, it’s said the best literature rises out of adversity. When I sat down to write a first novel, I was a step ahead of the game, having lived a tough life, and having not one, but two, families upon which to build my colorful characters. The first was, naturally, my family of origin – which included an alcoholic, disabled dad, nostalgic for his finer days; and a jazz musician grandfather, rumored to have played trumpet in “houses of ill repute.”

I fell into my second “family” when, at age 16, my first family broke up and (of necessity) I became a stripper on “the Block” – Baltimore’s once-stylish but by then seedy burlesque strip. My adopted Block family included burlesque-era strippers working as barmaids, and a strip-joint manager rumored to have consorted with the mob.

Milton Carter had been on the Block since the 1930s. During the heyday of burlesque, the 1940s and 1950s, Milton had been a “straw man” club owner, holding the liquor and cabaret licenses for the actual owners, mobbed-up guys who, owing to their criminal records, couldn’t get such licenses in their own names.

I met Milton when he was in his 70s and managing the Stage Door, a side-street joint housed within the rearmost portion of the historic Gayety Theater on Baltimore Street. Milton liked to tell the tale of the Stage Door in the old days, when it was “regular” bar where Gayety performers would relax between shows, drinking and carousing with their wealthy admirers, known as “Stage Door Johnnies.” Yet he was quick to also point out that no customer, regardless of how much he spent, had the right to assume anything about his Stage Door girls.

On my first day there, I was drinking with a guy who, having spent a considerable sum on champagne, thought that earned him the right to bully me into the back room. Milton intervened, pulling me aside to tell me I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to do. If I didn’t like how things were going with any customer, he said, I should tell the barmaid and she’d remedy the situation. This was important to know, as most Block clubs were fronts for prostitution in those days, and I was too green – just a month past 16 years old – to yet have a clear idea of what going in the back room really meant!

In this and other ways, Milton was like the father that my real father wasn’t, guiding me away from compromise and toward self-preservation. He regularly got on me about smoking cigarettes and advised me to stay away from certain dancers, those with drug habits and pimps for boyfriends. A health-conscious diabetic, he neither smoked nor drank. For his birthday and for Christmas, myself, the barmaid, and one or two other reliable day-shift girls, would chip in and buy him a big box of diabetic cookies.

Birthdays and Christmases were always celebrated at the Stage Door. The owner’s wife, a busty stripper who worked a “circuit,” like the burlesque queens of yesteryear, knew everyone’s birthday and never failed to provide a card and store-bought, personalized cake. On Christmas, the club was closed, but those of us without families showed up anyway. A cold-cut platter was spread across the bar, courtesy of the boss, and a gift exchange was organized by his wife. An overweight bartender who worked nights donned a Santa suit. A chair was placed onstage, names were drawn out of a hat, and every girl in attendance took her turn on Santa’s lap to receive a gift. Lacking in familial closeness as I was, rituals like this one kept me grounded, out of the path of drugs and pimps, as Milton often advised me to stay.

It’s unfortunate that in this modern age, American writers know so little of struggle. Not only have many of us never known it firsthand, but we live in a glib, image-obsessed world where sadness gets stuffed in favor of social media trends and “Likes.”

Studying English at UMBC in the early 1990s, I was fortunate to learn writing from Tom Nugent, a retired newspaperman who knew that to write about life one needed to immerse oneself in it. In the 1970s, he lived at Baltimore’s flea-bag Congress Hotel while writing an exposé about its welfare-roll inhabitants.

My advice for writers today? Live life on the edge, but with a safety net of “family,” real or adopted, to keep you on track when you drift into harm’s way.

Read the full issue of the Summer 2014 UMBC Magazine.

Congratulations to these UMBC alums whose accomplishments have been recognized both inside and outside of UMBC. Take a moment to see what they have been up to!

Recently, Corey Fleischer ’05, ’08 M.S., mechanical engineering, was featured in the Baltimore Sun. The paper noted that Fleischer, co-founder of the Baltimore Foundery, partnered with Gene Shirokobrod, doctor of physical therapy, to create the ARC, a product to relieve back and neck pain and retrain muscle.

The two developed a prototype of the ARC, a half-circle made of plastic that sits between the user and a chair or can sit underneath someone’s neck while they are lying down, using a blend of the latest hot entrepreneurial strategies — 3-D printing, crowdfunding, and the makerspace.

Read the full article.

Dr. Elliot Lasson ’87, psychology, was recently profiled by the Baltimore’s CBS affiliate. In the interview, they discuss Lasson’s work as the executive director of Joblink – a non-profit organization tasked with the exciting feat of employing Baltimoreans. They also discuss his involvement at UMBC as a psychology professor and his work as a member of Governor O’Malley’s Workforce Investment Board.

Read the interview.

Michael Kettelberger ’10, political science, recently joined WBOC16/FOX21 in Salisbury, MD, as a news producer. According to the article, Kettelberger has spent a lot of time on Maryland’s Eastern Shore and is looking forward to calling it home.

Micheal graduated with a master’s degree in journalism from the Philip Merrill College of Journalism at the University of Maryland in May of 2014. While at Maryland, he was a member of Capital News Service as a reporter, anchor, and producer. Micheal also spent a semester studying abroad at the American University in Cairo, Egypt.

While at Maryland, Micheal was a founding member of the National Press Photographers Association chapter at the University of Maryland, and at UMBC he served as President of Tau Kappa Epsilon fraternity.

Read the announcement.

Every morning when Lisa Kakavas ‘94, psychology, gets ready for work, her dog Zildjian (or Z for short), inspects her outfit of choice. “[He] gets excited when I pull certain pants out,” says Kakavas. That’s because Z knows that when search and rescue gear comes out, he gets to go to work, too.

Kakavas and Z–a German shepherd–volunteer with the Mason-Dixon Rescue Dogs (MDRD), an organization that trains dogs in search and rescue of both live and deceased people. She learned about the organization years ago when her husband got involved with MDRD. At first, she says, she thought it was a little crazy that he was driving an hour to “play with his dog,” but it wasn’t long before she started training her first search and rescue dog, Cleo. And Z, of course, followed in Cleo’s footsteps.

The first year or two of a dog’s life in the MDRD is spent training. “For the first full year we build that drive [to search and recover], and we do that by building the paycheck,” says Kakavas. After every hard period of training, Z is rewarded with a good game of tug of war and sometimes a treat.

Now, 14 years after joining MDRD, Kakavas is a lead trainer and the president of the group. As the president, she arranges training dates and locations, schedules certification tests for the dogs, and tracks the progress of each member (both two- and four-legged). In between calls for a search and rescue group and training, Kakavas holds down her job in retail at the UMBC bookstore.

“I fill up my calendar with training and fill in around it,” she said, mentioning that nearly every weekend — both Saturdays and Sundays — through summer was already scheduled with training. Luckily, Bookstore Bob, or the Director of the UMBC Bookstore, doesn’t mind. “[He] is very supportive, and he likes to hear the stories, too,” Kakavas said. And with five years of experience under Z’s collar, he and Kakavas have over 50 search stories to tell.

The cases can range anywhere from a
few hundred square feet to 80 acres of land, and the number of dogs sent out depends on the situation. Her longest search was in Pennsylvania, searching for an infant. Kakavas said the trip took 13 hours of searching spaced out over two days. She and Z have also traveled as far away as Peru, called in by local law enforcement to search for a missing hiker. “The search area was the side of an entire mountain,” she said, recalling the stress of the event. Other trips have included night searches for missing persons in natural disaster areas.

Although Kakavas and Z have worked through nights, spent countless hours training together, and hiked hundreds miles over the years, it doesn’t seem to be phasing her, or her dog. “The reason they work so hard is because we make it fun,” she said.

Do you have an awesome story to share? Submit a class note!

One of the things that makes UMBC great is how wonderful our alumni, students, faculty, and staff are. Because of these amazing people, UMBC often finds itself “in the news,” so each week, we’ll be sharing with you a round-up of the most newsworthy achievements from our community.

• Roy Meyers, Political Science on MarylandReporter.com
• Leslie Morgan, Sociology and Anthropology, in The Baltimore Beacon
• Nicole King, American Studies, in City Paper
• Thomas Schaller, Political Science, Op-Ed in The Baltimore Sun
• Paul Smith, Chemistry, in The Baltimore Sun

Read more great news here!

UMBC alumnus Ben Marcin ’80 traveled the world with his camera. But he has found acclaim investigating the often bitter poetry, beauty and truth in local landscapes.

The photographs of Ben Marcin ’80, economics, are gaining a much wider audience of late. His work has been shown at venues including the Delaware Art Museum, The Center for Fine Art Photography in Ft. Collins, Colo., and at the C. Grimaldis Gallery in Baltimore – where he is currently represented and recently had a solo show this past winter. His photos are also in a number of group shows this summer, including at the Houston Center for Photography (“Photolucida Presents: How One Thing Leads To Another”); Towson University’s Center for the Arts Gallery (“Artscape 2014: Home: Human = Cage: Cockatoo” from July 10 to August 9) and the Griffin Museum of Photography, Boston (“Peter Urban Legacy 20th Annual Juried Exhibition” from July 10 to August 31).

Marcin’s work is also starting to be seized upon by those working in urban planning and writing about the larger forces at work in American culture. Marcin’s photographs have been featured in online galleries at The Paris Review, The Huffington Post, on Slate and in Wired, and twice in recent months on The Atlantic’s “City Lab” website.

The appeal of Marcin’s work to the larger audiences of policymakers and pundits is clear. His photographs engage with great issues of our time – urban blight and gentrification, homelessness, the vast expanses of rural America seemingly disconnected from our wired world – and yet they never slide into didacticism or agit-prop. The power of his art resides in the stark and unflinching eye of the photographer – and the images he captures with his lens.

UMBC Magazine asked Marcin to talk about his own artistic journey and introduce our readers to some of the series of images that are gripping the public imagination.

This is how I got started.

When I graduated from UMBC in 1980, I was 21 years old, absolutely clueless about what I wanted to do and six years away from buying my first camera. After several months of driving delivery trucks and working out of corporate mailrooms, I landed a job at the Social Security Administration (SSA) headquarters a few exits up the beltway from UMBC. I have worked at SSA to this day, the last 28 years in their enormous IT department helping build large computer programs and systems.

At age 27, I bought a small camera to help feed a creative urge that had been stirring for years, ever since my father started bringing home a series of modern art monographs from his job at the Library of Congress. I slowly taught myself how to use the camera from the ground up. In time, I learned how to take a good picture.

Eventually, I decided that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to start showing some of my photographs. In 1990, I approached the Knight Gomez Gallery in Baltimore. I nervously introduced myself to a very sophisticated young lady who turned out to be the gallery’s curator. Her name was Lynn O’Sullivan and I showed her a page of Kodachrome slides. She didn’t appear overly impressed with this first effort but she didn’t throw me out the door, either. Over time, she helped me with the process of putting together a small portfolio of prints and taught me how to best present them. Eventually she invited me to take part in a three-person photography exhibit at the gallery. That was in 1992 and it was the first of three shows I ended up having there. In 1997, I married Lynn and we have been together ever since.

Throughout my 30s and 40s, I travelled around the world taking photographs. I went through Central and South America, India, Turkey, most of Europe. Shooting locally had become passé for me; I thought I had “seen” everything of interest around Baltimore. It got to the point that between trips my camera would sit on a shelf, largely untouched, until it was time to head off on the next international adventure.

An interesting thing happened as I got older. I started to notice that there were a number of very intriguing things to photograph closer to home. I became more involved in the idea behind a series of photographs rather than the photographs as the endpoint. I shed some of the bright colors and exotic tones of my earlier work. A sort of coming home began to take place as I took a more thoughtful look at my immediate surroundings. In this light, I started several photo essays about some of the more interesting places where people live in and around Baltimore. The following describes some of these projects in more detail.

Last House Standing

One of the architectural quirks of certain cities on the eastern seaboard of the United States is the solo row house. Standing alone, in some of the worst neighborhoods, these 19th century structures were once attached to similar row houses that made up entire city blocks. Time and major demographic changes have resulted in the decay and demolition of many such blocks of row houses. Occasionally, one house is spared – literally cut off from its neighbors and left to the elements with whatever time it has left.

My interest in these solitary buildings is not only in their ghostly beauty but in their odd, almost defiant, placement in the urban landscape. Often three stories high, they were clearly not designed to stand alone like this. Many details that might not be noticed in a homogenous row of 20 attached row houses become apparent when everything else has been torn down. And then there’s the lingering question of why a single row house was allowed to remain upright. Still retaining traces of its former glory, the last house standing is often still occupied.

A House Apart

While working on “Last House Standing,” I was also documenting the many abandoned homesteads in the rural areas around Baltimore that are now becoming planned communities, mega-malls, industrial parks and other forms of urban sprawl. Unlike the row houses, which were originally lived in by many people at one time, the abandoned houses are much more isolated and have the appearance of having been built on the frontier.

The Camps

In 2011, I photographed the homeless camps in and around Baltimore. I do a lot of hiking in the area. As development has encroached upon whatever woods are left in the suburbs and industrial parks of Baltimore, I found myself practically stepping into a number of homeless camps that were carefully hidden among strips of trees or bushes running along highways or behind shopping centers. I became fascinated not only at the effort that went into remaining hidden in plain sight but also at the creativity involved. No two camps were ever alike. They ran the gamut from being completely exposed under bridges or fallen trees to semi-massive structures carefully constructed out of milk crates or wooden doors.

More than one resident told me that living in a tent was a personal choice – yet it seemed to me that there was often no other choice. Even more than the abandoned houses that I’ve documented, the homeless camps directly allude to the life trajectories of their owners. Not one of the camps remains today.

Read the full issue of the Summer 2014 UMBC Magazine.

Everyone needs a place where they can feel safe. When people don’t feel secure, it is harder for them to experience love, belonging, and fulfillment. Enter Safe House of Hope. Founded in 2007 by Denene Yates ‘10, health administration and policy, Safe House of Hope is a place where women exploited through human and sex trafficking can feel safe. Yates feels uniquely connected to the women she now serves. She says she grew up without much love and support, and now, as a mother of seven, she understands the value of having a place of safety. Yates says starting this non-profit has been one of unexpected turns and discoveries – an adventure she never imagined.

She took her first steps on this path when she got involved with You Are Never Alone (YANA), an organization that provided advocacy for women who had been victims of prostitution and sex trafficking. At first, she helped the group manage their budget, but she found herself drawn to YANA’s mission – she wanted to help the women YANA served gain the life-changing opportunities they had so long been denied.

“This is an epidemic, a big money industry,” Yates points out. It’s chilling to consider, but Yates explains that there are currently 27 million slaves worldwide – more than any other time in history – and that last year alone, the human trafficking industry made $33 billion.

Unfortunately, despite its critically needed mission, YANA struggled to support itself as an organization, and was faced with closing its doors. Sad to leave something she felt so passionate about, Yates was determined to keep YANA’s mission alive. After some time spent studying at UMBC, the fire inside was rekindled and the idea for Safe House of Hope was born.

UMBC helped turn her idea into a reality. She worked with her professors to design independent study courses that would allow her to transform the research and work of building an organization into college credit. She also found invaluable resources in the university’s Public Health Department, which emphasized the importance of prevention and improving health care systems. Yates even turned to UMBC’s Alex. Brown Center for Entrepreneurships and the Shriver Center for guidance and support as she worked through the process of becoming an established 501c3.

“I would not be here today if it weren’t for UMBC’s helpfulness in regards to providing resources, skills, and means to start this organization,” explains Yates. Now, Safe House of Hope is not just established – it’s flourishing. In fact, in 2013, the organization moved to its very own building on Curtis Avenue in Baltimore.

With its own facility and more space, Safe House of Hope has been provided with the opportunity to expand its services. Not only does it maintain its own building, but Safe House of Hope also has an emergency shelter, six beds, a drop-in center, a 24/7 talk line, a street outreach team, host families (families trained to have a client to live with them for a period of time), and a whole faculty of staff who work on community outreach activities such as Zumba, GED classes, and Bible studies. This year, Yates hopes to expand drop-in centers to three other communities with known street prostitution.

Yates considers herself part of a group of abolitionists determined to end modern-day slavery and encourages others to join her in this aim. She always tells her volunteers and those considering joining her team, “with just 10 hours of your time each month, we can change lives.” Not only does Yates believe this, she knows it. She has seen women’s lives altered before her very eyes – they find themselves homes, get jobs, and become self-sufficient. Because Yates knows that change is possible, she won’t stop fighting to make it happen.

While Yates does admit that starting a business – particularly one with work that can be so emotionally demanding – is challenging, it is this belief in the potential for change that pushes her to keep moving forward. It’s common for her clients to feel so stuck they won’t even want to think about tomorrow. But with hope in her eyes and passion in her voice, Yates explains that Safe House of Hope exists to “help people to dream again and to realize those dreams.” And being a part of that, she says, is worth every single second.

– By Jessie Orsburn

Have a story of your own to share?

In the fall of 2003, Kevin Yang ’07 computer science and financial economics and Katelyn Niu ’05, biochemistry, found themselves in the same physics study group.

But their relationship began to bloom a year later, when a computer virus brought them together.

“Katelyn’s computer was affected by a virus, and she called me for help,” Kevin recalls.

He admits that he took his time fixing the computer problem, making several trips to Katelyn’s place at Walker Avenue Apartments. “That gave us time to chat,” he says.

Kevin and Katelyn also began bumping into one another more frequently in the dining hall. “I wasn’t stalking her or anything, but I have a good memory and I memorized her schedule. I’d show up [at the dining hall] a little before she’d get there,” he says with a playful grin.

While Kevin found the time in his full academic schedule to see Katelyn, her recollection of life as an undergraduate at UMBC is a little different.

“I was always so busy studying,” Katelyn says, who earned a joint Ph.D./D.D.S. from the University of Maryland, Baltimore, after graduation.

Katelyn was eventually won over by Kevin’s persistence. The couple married this past fall at the Center Club in Baltimore after a two-year engagement. They live in Ellicott City, a half-way point between Katelyn’s commute to her dentist’s office in Hagerstown andKevin’s position as an investment analyst at T. Rowe Price in downtown Baltimore.

While life as young commuting professionals is busy, Katelyn and Kevin stay connected to UMBC. She uses the pool on occasion; he plays tennis on the campus’s courts. They volunteer their time at recruiting events for prospective students, and attend alumni events. They also see UMBC President Freeman A. Hrabowski, III and his wife, Jackie, from time to time.

“I was a Meyerhoff Scholar,” says Kevin. “He was the founder. We’ve kept in touch .”

Read the full issue of the Winter 2014 UMBC Magazine.

Make it a March (and April) to remember by joining us for these great events coming soon:

Admissions Receptions
Various Dates

Are you a proud Retriever Believer? There are a variety of ways alumni can volunteer to give back to the UMBC community. One unique opportunity is to attend one of our many spring Admissions Receptions. These events are offered through Alumni Relations and the Admissions Office. The first two receptions will be held in March:

• Tuesday, March 11, 7 – 9 p.m., Baltimore (Hilton)
• Tuesday, March 25, 7 – 9 p.m., North Bethesda (Rockville/Strathmore)

Get more details and volunteer through our website.

Dessert & Discussion: Family Voices
Wednesday, March 12, 6:30 p.m.

Join us for a spring Dessert and Discussion with Professor Wendy Salkind (theatre) and two fellow alums for a reading of Harold Pinter’s early radio play, Family Voices.
Following the reading of this short play, Professor Salkind will informally respond to audience reactions to Pinter’s characters, and his Absurdist techniques in theatrical form. RSVP now!

Early-Bird Ticket Sales!
Wine Tasting and Silent Auction
Friday, April 25, 7 p.m

This is no average trip to the library. Get dressed to the nines and join fellow UMBC alumni and guests for an elegant party in the beautiful and historic George Peabody Library. Located in picturesque Mt. Vernon, the George Peabody Library will be a studied backdrop to an evening filled with jazz, excellent company, refined refreshments and fine wine. Your attendance and participation in the silent auction will benefit the Alumni Association Scholarship for current UMBC students. This event is brought to you by the UMBC Chapter of Young Alumni.

The ticket price includes unlimited wine tastings and heavy hors d’oeuvres. Purchase your tickets now until March 7 for the early bird price of $30.

Monica Gallagher ’01, visual arts, was recently featured in the BuzzFeed Geeky post, “20 Pieces of Advice for Female Artists from Female Artists.”

Her advice to her fellow female artists?

Draw all the time and keep going despite any negativity.

Gallagher’s work was included in the Winter 2012 issue of UMBC Magazine when she created an illustrated essay about her post-college life.

About Monica Gallagher: Gallagher is a designer, illustrator and comicker who lives in Baltimore with her boyfriend and two dueling cats. She graduated magna cum laude from UMBC in 2001, with a degree in visual arts, emphasis on animation. While at UMBC she learned Japanese, traveled to Greece with the ancient studies department, fainted in a yoga class, participated in film festivals, worked in the photo cage, stayed up way too late in the computer lab, got hit in the head with a volleyball, and has many, many other awesome memories.

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