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Sarah Mullins

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Sometimes Sarah Mullins forgets that she graduated from college with a psychology major and an education minor.

She forgets that she could be a teacher or a school psychologist, and mostly she forgets that she had planned to do anything other than start her own business.

These days, she spends her time talking with retailers and department stores, strategizing about how to grow her company and testing out new scents for her upcoming line of candles.

It’s a big job, but one she never thought she’d get to do.

See, just a few years ago Sarah was living out of her shop, her car and her friends’ couches. Her story has involved some very high highs and very low lows, but it’s in those low places that Sarah said she grew the most, learned the most and began to understand what her story is all about.

Here’s a hint, it’s not just about candles.

In college, Sarah discovered her love of candles. She was fascinated by the way the scents reminded her of places and things – what she didn’t love was how much candles cost.

So, she started making them herself. But what started as a hobby and a way to save a few dollars quickly turned into a full-on business that made her quit her day job just to keep up with orders.

Suddenly Sarah was 23 years old, newly married and running a successful business – things were going great.

She opened a storefront and continued making candles for her eager customers. Sarah poured every ounce of herself into the business over the next few years as she worked to juggle the pressures of her work and personal life.

But during the first three years things started to fall apart. Sarah was buried under a mountain of bills and debt, she was struggling to keep her business open and went through a difficult divorce that left her without a place to call home.

She crashed on friends’ couches and slept in her shop on nights when she worked late. It was hard, and nothing like Sarah had imagined. This was not how she pictured her life, she needed a new start, a new idea and a new dream.

When she was just about out of money she had a crazy idea – end her current business and start a new one. While it may have seemed like the wrong answer to everyone else, Sarah knew this was the right thing to do.

During this season, Sarah started thinking a lot about her Aunt Pamela and Granny Faye, two women who made a big impression on her as a child. They were strong, independent women who gave back, stepped up and loved others well.

Sarah knew that if she was going to have a legacy, she wanted it to be like theirs, so she renamed her company Feya Candles after her beloved granny and aunt. She decided that just making and selling candles wasn’t enough, she wanted to give back. Much likes TOMS shoes, Sarah wanted to connect her business to something more than just goods, so she decided to donate a meal for every candle she sold.

She had her new business plan mapped out in her mind, now the problem became spreading the word. After evaluating the way she had run her business for the first three years, Sarah noticed that she made more sales when she sold her candles to other retailers, which sparked another crazy idea – a road trip.

Sarah sold all of her belongings, loaded up a car with candles, her laptop and a suitcase and hit the road.

She spent four months visiting 27 cities and driving 12,000 miles to sell her Feya Candles. To say it was an adventure would probably be an understatement, she said, but with each stop Sarah grew more and more convinced that she was doing the right thing. She served meals at local homeless shelters and made connections with people from across the country. She slept in her car when she ran out of money, but made it back to Lincoln with 80 retail stores selling her candles.

She received local and national coverage about her trip and company, giving her revamped business the jolt it needed to get off the ground.

This year she’s sold thousands of candles and is on track to give 10,000 meals, and her goal for next year is 1 million meals.

Most days Sarah can’t believe this is her story. That she gets to wake up, run a business and give back. She knows what it’s like to need the help of others, to be vulnerable and weak, but she also knows how to dig deep and find strength.

Her story has been about not giving up, even when giving up seemed like the best option. It’s been about trusting her gut, being stubborn enough to keep moving forward and motivated enough to never quit.

The best part about Sarah’s story, is that she knows it’s not about her, her candles or even her business. It’s been about others, and that’s the way it’s going to stay.

Carly Woythaler-Runestad

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She wasn’t sure she wanted to share her story. Actually, she felt like she didn’t really have one. She says the people she works with, they have the “real” story.

As the executive director of the Mourning Hope Grief Center, Carly Woythaler-Runestad has seen and heard a lot of stories. She’s not a grief group facilitator and she doesn’t lead any of the sessions, but she is the one who’s responsible for keeping the lights on and the programs running at Mourning Hope.

It’s a job that she ‘fell’ into in many senses, but it’s become her greatest passion and something that’s helped her define her own story.

Carly grew up in a rural town in central Iowa. It was a small, community-focused place where she was surrounded by strong parents, impactful mentors and experienced a nurturing upbringing. This environment seemed to set the tone for Carly’s life.

She attended the University of Iowa and received her undergraduate degree before going on to work as a music therapist and then the director of a long-term care facility. Carly decided to return to school to earn her Master’s degree in health care administration and then put her degree to work as a lobbyist for the Nebraska Hospital Association.

Carly had several jobs after she graduated that she liked and was good at, but each one seemed more like stepping stones rather than a place to settle down and dig in. She felt like she was constantly searching for the right fit, and started to think maybe it didn’t exist.

She and her husband moved to Nebraska in 2004 and a few years later Carly’s life was shifted by major changes and transitions. Her mother was battling cancer, her grandparents died and she experienced a miscarriage – all of which happened in a relatively short period of time.

The sudden losses and change caused Carly to re-evaluate her story, to start thinking about who she was, what she wanted to do and who she wanted to be. She realized she wanted a job that she was excited to go to every day, a place where she could see the impact of her work and was more than just a way to utilize her skills and take home a paycheck.

It was during this period of transition that Carly came across the Mourning Hope Grief Center.

She started out as a part time employee who was interested in the center’s mission of helping kids and their caregivers navigate seasons of loss. Carly watched broken, unsure and scared kids and caregivers walk through the front door of Mourning Hope, only to see them leave with hope and excitement.

It’s work that’s nearly addictive because of the noticeable impact it has on families, and Carly said it didn’t take long before she stopped seeing Mourning Hope as a stepping stone to something bigger… it became her landing place.

The work got under her skin in the best way possible and opened her eyes to a population of the city and state that she hadn’t seen before. Mourning Hope’s mission became her mission as she dug in and found her place.

It’s heavy work, but Carly wouldn’t have it any other way. The stories of the kids and families from Mourning Hope seem to play on a continuous loop in her mind, motivating her to work harder, do more and send emails at nearly all hours of the day.

They are the reason she loves waking up and going to work.

They are the reason she’s worked to join local and national organizations to advocate for grieving children and families.

And they are the reason she’s an engaged wife and mother who values every minute with her family.

People often ask Carly if she experienced a significant loss that kick-started her passion, but that’s not why she joined the team at Mourning Hope. She joined because she discovered a deep desire to help others.

As she looks back on her educational and career path, Carly can see that caring well for others has been a theme in her jobs and her story. It’s part of who she is, and something she’s always valued, but working at Mourning Hope brought that to the surface.

Carly said that for so long it felt like she was searching for her story, for what was next and where she wanted to invest her energy and time. Now, ‘what’s next’ looks like staying put, raising her family and being diligent in her work.

She referenced the quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson that says: “To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.”

That’s what she wants in life, to live her story well by helping shoulder the burdens of others. For the first time in a long time Carly isn’t looking for what’s next, it’s right in front of her, and her story has never seemed so clear.

DeWayne Taylor

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If DeWayne Taylor has it his way, he’ll be the next Ryan Seacrest.

Sure, maybe that’s asking a lot, but DeWayne is pretty convinced he can get there. He’s an optimist and a go-getter. He’s not one to back down from a challenge, and seems to approach nearly every situation with a smile.

That’s just who DeWayne is, but how he became that way… well, that’s a story.

DeWayne grew up in St. Louis, where he was surrounded by a family of entrepreneurs and small business owners. He saw his mom, aunts and uncles work hard at jobs they were passionate about and they encouraged him to find his own passion in life.

At an early age, DeWayne discovered his love of being in front of a crowd. He felt at ease around large groups of people and found ways to connect with others even when he was an outsider.

During high school, his mom’s job uprooted his family from St. Louis and moved them to Lincoln. It was a big transition, but one that he says helped his story come to life.

He jumped into all kinds of activities in high school to get involved and make new friends. Lincoln felt so much safer than St. Louis, and DeWayne said he loved how he could walk to school and be outside whenever he wanted without having to worry about his safety. It was freeing, and just what he needed to be himself.

DeWayne quickly found that speech became a fun extracurricular that sparked his passion. He loved working with others, presenting on a topic that interested him and performing in front of the judges. He didn’t just like it, he was good at it too. He competed locally and nationally with his high school team and was recruited to join the speech team at UNL.

But speech wasn’t the only passion of DeWayne’s in high school, there was also beatboxing.

Toward the end of his freshman year, DeWayne got bored during track and started transferring the rhythms running through his head to his mouth. A few of his friends started to notice what he was doing and really liked it, but DeWayne just brushed it off.

In his spare time he watched videos on how to beatbox and practiced in front of a small group of his friends. It wasn’t his main focus, just a side hobby that a few people knew about.

During his senior year a few of his friends made a deal with DeWayne, they said if he was crowned prom king he’d have to beatbox at the prom. DeWayne just laughed about the challenge because he thought there was no way he’d be prom king, but as luck would have it, he was crowned king and then handed the microphone.

DeWayne was super nervous. He was on the spot and started to question himself. What if they thought he was weird, what if they thought his beatboxing was dumb?

But the reaction he got was the opposite of everything he feared – they loved his beatboxing and couldn’t believe he’d been keeping his talent hidden.

Before long, DeWayne was performing at birthday parties, elementary schools and even dive bars. His typical event lineup included him talking about the origins of beatboxing, its multicultural history and then performing.

When he attended UNL he performed at Big Red Welcome to kick off the school year and has been performing around Lincoln ever since. He’s hosted events and performed for various companies including Ted X, RedBull, Blue Cross Blue Shield, The College World Series and Verizon Wireless. Each experience taught him something new about himself and the career path he was on. He started to see that being in front of a crowd was his way to connect with others, get people excited and be a part of the community. It connected his speech skills and beatboxing into a dream that just felt right.

It’s hard to describe, he said, but he just feels like himself when it’s his job to excite a crowd of people. It’s a challenge, but one that he loves and something that brings out a side of him that he’s proud to show off.

But it’s also a dream that a lot of people often make light of. ‘Being a TV, radio or event host? That’s not a career!’ they often say.

It’s definitely been a challenge. Juggling his college classes and his paying gigs sometimes means that he has to skip classes to perform. It’s money he needs to pay for school and experience that’s important for his future, but it also means it’ll take him longer than the average student to complete school.

This past spring DeWayne lived in LA for a few months while he participated in a hosting school. It was a big risk to take a semester off  and an even bigger risk to put himself out there in front of industry professionals. He was challenged and pushed to understand his strengths and weaknesses, preparing him for whatever is next in his story.

DeWayne likes to challenge himself. To do more, dream bigger, learn more and try as hard as he can to make himself better. He doesn’t see his story as something extraordinary, he actually said he feels like a pretty boring guy. But he has drive and direction and he’s anxious to see where his story will take him next.

“I see my life and I know where I want to go,” he said. “It doesn’t matter what happens – it does, but it doesn’t – I know where I’m going and I’ll get there.”

Doug Durham

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A few years ago, Doug Durham was spending a lot of time at the Haymarket Scooters. It was close to his office and a convenient place to meet with his employees.

After one of his many meetings, a barista asked him what he did for a living. Apparently, she and her coworkers had been making guesses about Doug’s work based on his frequent visits to the shop.

Doug explained that he was a software engineer at a local startup and was meeting with interns and employees to teach/mentor them as they pursued similar career paths.

The barista laughed and said none of them would have guessed he was involved in something so technical, the general consensus was that Doug was a youth pastor.

Doug laughed at their guess, but said it seemed like an extremely logical guess based on their perspective. This exchange got him thinking about perspective, and how his own perspective has changed over time.

Perspective isn’t just something you get or stumble upon, he said, it’s something that’s gained through various experiences and life changes. It’s something that Doug has thought a lot about as he’s transitioned from a college student, to an air force officer, a software engineer, husband, father and mentor.

Doug’s story starts in Nebraska. It’s where he grew up, went to school and started to match his skills with his passions. He sort of fell into the engineering field because it seemed interesting to him – plus, it didn’t require foreign language classes.

Going to college wasn’t a family tradition, his parents didn’t have degrees and Doug worked hard to pay his way through school. That was, until he discovered an application for the Air National Guard. In joining, Doug could pay for school, gain career experience and travel, which seemed like the perfect combination for his curious young mind.

He graduated and figured out how to put his engineering skills to work by moving to St. Louis to work as a systems engineer.

For much of his early career, Doug said he operated with a strong feeling of inadequacy. He felt like he was in over his head and feared being ‘found out’ or viewed as a fraud if he made a mistake. This mindset emotionally handicapped Doug as he moved up in various companies and grew in his skills and knowledge of the industry.

While he was living in St. Louis, the opportunity presented itself for Doug to return to his home state. There’s just something about Nebraska that he missed and he knew it’s where he wanted to raise his family and put down roots.

He moved to Lincoln and started working with small software companies. Doug enjoyed the process of helping find efficient uses for software and maximizing the potential of software engineers. His skills and passions began to line up even more when he met Steve Kiene, a self-proclaimed software geek and local advocate, and they worked together to launch eSellerate in 1999, and more recently, Nebraska Global’s Don’t Panic Labs in 2010.

As Doug continued to carve out a space for himself in Lincoln, he started to take a closer look at himself in light of his work. He was gaining perspective and starting to put the pieces together.

He realized that the fear-mode he often operated out of was a bad case of the imposter syndrome – which was actually pointed out by one of his kids. Doug knew what it was, but had never put a label on the feelings he’d experienced. For such a long time, Doug had seen this as a weakness, a handicap to his job, but naming and accepting his self-doubt made him start to see things differently. He started to feel more confident in his skills, and even comfortable in his own skin.

Doug realized that while self-doubt was a hurdle in his path, it has also allowed him to openly accept criticism, recognize when he’s wrong, work hard to earn trust and collaborate well with others. It wasn’t just a barrier to his work, it was a part of who he was as a co-worker, friend and boss.

He also realized his desire to please others and work hard were two traits passed down from his father. Doug said his mom would often talk about how his dad didn’t make much money building houses. He spent too much time perfecting each detail and undercharging for his work. He was honest, full of integrity and modest about his character.

Doug said his dad didn’t go out of his way to teach him to value the same things he did, but his actions forever shaped the way Doug sees his work, loves his family and lives his life.

He said his dad always did the right thing, and he’s hoping to follow in his footsteps.

When Doug thinks about how his story has progressed so far, he said it feels more like an unknown journey than a well-planned trip. On his journey, Doug has learned how to live his life by standing by his convictions, acting with integrity, being himself and caring well for others.

He’s learned the value of perspective, of seeing himself and his story from different angles and understanding the beauty of change.

Jordan Sauer

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Jordan Sauer wasn’t so sure she had a story to tell.

Sitting in her quiet living room, with her toddler napping upstairs, she explained that her life is pretty ordinary. It’s not dramatic, overly adventurous or glamorous – but that’s not what makes a story worth telling.

Over the past 28 years Jordan has worked to understand her story. There have been highs and lows, moments she wishes she could re-do or experience in a new way. Mostly, Jordan said a lot of her past has shaped her future.

Jordan grew up in Scottsbluff, Nebraska in an athletic family. Both of her parents played collegiate sports and Jordan’s height and athletic abilities made it natural to follow in their footsteps.

In middle school, she tried everything from track to basketball and volleyball. She liked the pace and competitive nature of basketball, compared to volleyball which seemed a little too tame. But in high school, Jordan took volleyball a little more seriously. She proved herself as a strong player and attended summer training camps at UNL.

During one of the camps she met UNL head volleyball coach John Cook, who took her aside to ask her if she’d ever thought about playing collegiate volleyball. It wasn’t something Jordan had even considered or thought was possible, but her conversation with coach Cook got her thinking.

From Jordan’s perspective, playing volleyball at UNL was a long shot. She knew she wasn’t the most skilled player, which was why she was surprised when she received another call from coach Cook.

He explained that he thought she was a strong athlete and hard worker and he offered her a walk-on spot at UNL. There was no promise of playing time, just the opportunity to build her skills and be part of a world-class program. Jordan took it.

Her freshman year was difficult. She was far from home and adjusting to her class load and the pressures of being a collegiate athlete. Jordan said she quickly realized she was definitely one of the weaker players on the court. She lagged behind during practice and was often told to shag stray balls instead of doing drills.

She said coach Cook joked about the fact that she didn’t say a single word during the first month of practice, which probably wasn’t far from the truth. It was intimidating and even a little embarrassing, but Jordan said she chose UNL because she knew it’s where she would become the best player she could be, even if she never stepped on the court during a game.

Over the next two years, Jordan said she grew as both a player and a person. She gained confidence in herself with the help of her teammates, and began to see herself as part of a team. She may not have been the best player on the court, but this fact didn’t make her feel inadequate, it just pushed her to work harder.

Toward the end of her sophomore year, one of her teammates was injured and Jordan stepped up to fill her spot. It was a big moment, and there was a lot of pressure, but Jordan faced the pressure by focusing on playing. She continued to get playing time and made it into the starting lineup. Jordan was becoming a more noticeable player and her confidence grew each game.

But during her junior year things shifted. There was new leadership, new players, new drama and instead of stepping up, Jordan stepped back. She was passive and withdrawn, which impacted her attitude and her playing. Her coaches pointed this out, but Jordan didn’t think it was a big deal. She didn’t see what was happening to herself and her team because of her attitude. Jordan went from being a starter to barely playing toward the end of the year.

She attributes her attitude to a lack of maturity and an inability to take responsibility for her actions. When Jordan finally stepped back and saw this, she knew she needed to do something about it. She apologized to her coaches and team members and then made it a point to make her final years different.

Jordan says she still thinks about that year of her life. Her bad attitude was so silly, but also serious because of the way it impacted the people around her – and the scary part was that it took nearly a year for her to notice.

Her selfishness blinded her to the needs of others, but it taught her that life isn’t just about herself. This lesson transferred to the volleyball court as she finished out her last two years of playing and earned her Master’s degree in education.

But it’s a lesson Jordan carries with her into her role as wife, mother, friend, substitute teacher and coach. She has seen the reward of investing in others in a way that brings life to her own story and allows her to see others more clearly.

Playing college volleyball wasn’t an adventure Jordan dreamed about as a kid. It was something she tried because she was encouraged to do so. It taught her about who she was, who she didn’t want to be and who she could become.

Jordan said every so often someone at the grocery store looks at her sideways or asks if they’ve met her before. Sometimes she explains why they might recognize her and other times she just laughs it off.

Even though people might recognize Jordan as a former Husker volleyball player, she’s so different than the tall, middle blocker they saw on TV or at games. Her experience as an athlete set her up to think long and hard about her weaknesses and strengths and how to use those to live a story that’s worth telling.

Becky Boesen

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Becky Boesen was teased as a kid.

It wasn’t because she had braces or glasses – she was teased because of her vocabulary.

At the age of 7, Becky described jelly sandals as “superficial” and used all sorts of big words that her peers either didn’t understand or had never heard.

When Becky thinks back to this fact, it makes her laugh, even though at the time all she wanted to do was fit in. But that’s the beauty of her story, she said, and in many ways she’s still that goofy 7-year-old with a big vocabulary and even bigger dreams.

Becky grew up in a western Nebraska home where they watched the 1968 version of Romeo and Juliet on family movie night and argued about politics for the fun of it. Her parents were big on letting Becky draw her own conclusions and defend her opinions. This kind of environment made Becky’s creatively-geared mind explode with possibilities, but it also set her apart from the other kids.

When she wasn’t in school, she was either writing or working at the restaurant that her mom managed. As a 9-year-old, Becky said she learned a lot about human nature while she dipped onion rings and cleared tables.

She’d listen to couples fight, friends catch up and families wrangle their kids.

“That part of the country isn’t necessarily diverse, but the stories are,” she said. “It was like I was watching a movie or a play, and soon I started to think about the people I encountered as characters.”

In junior high and high school, Becky’s family moved from Nebraska to the Ozarks and then back to Nebraska. As her parents dug into their respective jobs, Becky was left with a lot of alone time. She found that writing became the way she tried to understand her new home, school and life.

She would write anything from poems and lyrics to fictional stories to help express herself. It was a way she could get out her teenage angst without having to edit or explain herself to others.

It was during high school that Becky realized her love of language, writing and stories were pointing her toward theatre. She had a teacher who noticed her talents and encouraged her to pursue acting in college, but the thought of making a hobby into a career seemed silly and a little scary.

Becky always figured she’d be a lawyer or politician, so the thought of something so different was overwhelming. Plus, she wasn’t sure how her parents would take the news. While they had never discouraged her creativity, majoring in theatre didn’t fit their idea of a viable career path.

As graduation got closer, the conversations about college grew more intense and involved a lot of door slamming and tears on Becky’s part. The conversation finally ended with her parents giving their blessing for her to pursue theatre and she decided to attend UNL.

During her first semester, Becky quickly found her “tribe.” She loved the fact that there were other word nerds and theatre geeks out there, and she suddenly didn’t feel so alone. The next four years of her life were full of learning and exploration. She got hooked on play writing and always seemed to be working on a new project or trying to figure out how to get her latest work produced.

But no sooner had she jumped in to her degree that her time at UNL came to an end. Becky quickly realized that post-college life didn’t feel as safe as she expected, and she began questioning her work. The pressure of making the ‘right’ decisions led her back to a small town in Nebraska where she stopped writing and eventually settled down and started a family.

She had a good life and was thankful for her family, but things felt off. Becky struggled with depression and after a few years she realized she needed to move back to Lincoln and pursue her passions.

Since returning to Lincoln, Becky’s story has been a roller coaster of jobs, emotions, relationships and goals. She’s experienced loss up close, she’s come to understand the value of family and to appreciate her community.

At the age of 35, Becky said she finally understood how to connect her purpose and passion in a way that was meaningful. She began to write and produce plays with themes related to poverty, family and loss. She began to see her writing as more than just her way to breathe, but as a way to say something, give back and create dialogue in the community.

These days, Becky vacillates between writing, producing and working out the logistics for her business, being the executive director for the Flatwater Shakespeare Company and cultivating relationships with other creatives. She works a lot of long hours and usually doesn’t sleep more than 5 hours a night – mostly because her brain is buzzing with new ideas.

And yet, this chaotic schedule doesn’t seem to bother Becky. It’s what makes her feel alive, what gives life to the rest of her world and what really saved her life. Theatre was her cure for loneliness, and it’s become a way that she can reach back into her community and understand her own story.

The theatre is her safe place. Not because it’s where she feels comfortable, but because it’s where she feels most vulnerable. It’s where she can express her truest self, the part of her self she had a hard time tapping into, but the person she knows she is made to be and the story she is meant to live out.

Kara Parde

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Not a lot of people can say that their business started with a musical, but that was definitely the case for Kara Parde.

When her 12-year-old daughter, Danielle, nabbed the leading role in the Lincoln Community Playhouse’s production of “Annie,” Kara stepped into the spotlight as well.

Kara quickly discovered that redheaded, orphan Annie and her friends weren’t the only ones facing a “hard knock life” – the community playhouse had its own set of troubles. Before long, parents started to help, and Kara followed suit.

She brainstormed a few ways to help the community theater raise money, and then her marketing and business background kicked in.

Kara figured that the odds were pretty good that the 200+ girls who auditioned for the production would show up to see it. And what do 12-year-old girls like best? Jewelry.

Kara soon found herself at her kitchen table making bracelets with her daughter. They sold the bracelets during the intermission of the show and gave the proceeds to the community playhouse.

By all accounts it was a win-win. Kara and her daughter found a new hobby and they raised money for the playhouse. But long after the play was over, the duo continued making jewelry.

The demand for their products was high and so the mother-daughter team decided to officially launch a business – KD Designs.

The two tag-teamed local farmers markets and hosted bracelet-making birthday parties. They tried anything and everything to keep their business momentum strong… and it worked.

Kara and Danielle began to do business outside of Nebraska and traveled around the country doing wholesale jewelry shows. In a business sense, these kinds of trips were necessary for their business to grow, but it had an even bigger impact on their relationship.

Kara said that while some mothers and daughters grow apart during their teen years, she and Danielle grew together. Their ‘business trips’ doubled as fun weekend getaways and a way to make new memories, become better friends and grow their business together.

When Danielle got to college, the shows were also a good excuse for Kara to take time to go see her daughter and work together, even though Danielle’s involvement was different than when they first started the business.

Instead of helping make bracelets, Danielle did layout design for catalogs. Instead of running after merchandise blowing down the road at a windy day at the farmers market, she created the displays in the front of the store.

Even though she wasn’t always there physically, Kara said that her daughter still pushed her to grow the business. When Kara knew that KD Designs had outgrown its first store, Danielle was the one who found their new location and pushed her mom to try it out.

When Kara thinks about her story, she said so much of it is surprising to herself. She grew up in a small town and graduated from college with a business and marketing degree. While she loved doing creative things, she quickly settled into a banking job because it was good, safe way to earn a living.

That’s why it was such a scary leap to start her business. Kara had been so used to a secure working environment that the uncertainty of something new was terrifying, but she did it and never looked back.

But she didn’t do it alone. From her business partner daughter to her husband, son, extended family and friends, Kara said her story is about so much more than just herself.

Running a business has given Kara the opportunity to step outside her comfort zone, to be brave and learn to trust her instincts. More importantly, she said it helped her see her daughter as more than just her daughter, but also a business partner and friend.

Rosina Paolini

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Rosina Paolini doesn’t always keep a weed whacker in her trunk, but she probably should. That, and bug spray.

On an average week, Rosina and her husband, Karl, spend upwards of 8-10 hours in Wilderness Park. Some of the time they’re hiking, but a lot of the time they’re clearing the trails to help the city keep up with the big task of maintaining the park.

She doesn’t spend this amount of time in the park because she’s paid or even asked to do it, she does it because she loves the park. It’s become who she is in a way that’s hard for her to describe but easy to understand because of the way she talks about the park… or rather, the way she can’t stop talking about the park.

Wilderness Park feels like home to Rosina for a lot of reasons, but it’s not where her story starts.

Rosina was born in Algeria, a country in northern Africa. She said her birth parents were most likely killed in The Algerian War, which plagued the area and left children to fend for themselves. As a baby, Rosina was placed in a foster home where she was adopted by American missionaries.

They hadn’t planned on adopting from Algeria, but once they saw how malnourished and small Rosina was they knew that they could either adopt her or leave her to die. After her adoption, she and her parents spent 6 years in Algeria before moving to Lincoln.

In many senses, her childhood was just as ‘typical’ as any other Nebraska-native. She went to school, rode her bike and played outside. She had a childhood friend who frequented Wilderness Park with her family and introduced Rosina to the trails, wildflowers and animals of the park. It quickly became the girls’ playground as they hiked, learned to spot rare birds and tell imaginative stories.

As Rosina grew up, the park served as the backdrop for her life. It’s where she could go when she needed a quiet space, a place to run, catch up with friends, bike, think and breathe.

When Rosina got to high school she quickly got bored of her classes. Her lack of direction, coupled with her rebellion and general teenage angst led her to drop out.

Eventually she earned her GED and realized that what she really wanted to do was be a physical therapist. She’d always loved learning about how the body worked and enjoyed people, so it seemed like a natural fit.

Rosina majored in psychology and biology and graduated as a physical therapy assistant. Now, she works at a skilled nursing facility in Lincoln where she spends a lot of her time interacting with the residents. She loves the way her work allows her to connect with others in a way that’s meaningful and genuine. It’s allowed her to use her skills in a way that’s helpful to others and rewarding in its own right.

This kind of connection is much of what she loves about Wilderness Park too. The connection between the runners, bikers and explorers, the connection to the land, animals and plant species and the connection to herself.

When budgets were cut and Rosina and many others started to notice a lack of maintenance in the park, she and her husband stepped up. Their philosophy was ‘If we don’t do it, who will?’ and what started out as a volunteer effort to enhance the park has become supplemental over the last 10 years.

It’s hard work — especially for someone who is almost 57, Rosina said with a laugh — but it’ also something she’s not planning on stopping anytime soon.

When Rosina walks along the trails, she’s confident in where she’s going because she’s been on the trail hundreds of times and because she feels like the park is hers. It’s a place where she’s invested. A place she feels responsible for maintaining, protecting, promoting and sharing with the community.

It’s a place she’d be lost without.

Rosina said she’s not quite sure how she grew to love the park so much. Maybe it’s because she grew up here. Her best days start with a 6a.m. run in the park and her most memorable weekends consist of meeting old and new families while she and her husband clear brush from the trails. It’s where she finds her sense of place and purpose in the chaos of a busy world.

Rosina said it’s hard to figure out where her story ends and the Wilderness Park story starts. There’s something about the park that makes her come to life in a way that few other things do. It’s a place she feels settled, free and at home.

She wears a bracelet that has a single phrase on it – ‘Live what you love.’ In many ways that’s what Rosina’s story has been about – finding what she loves and living it out every day. She’s motivated by more than goodwill or a sense of pride in her work, it’s about living out love… the best way she knows how.

Blaine Brown

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Blaine Brown grew up in a small town.

A town so small that his high school doesn’t even exist anymore, and Blaine said he has a few memories he wish didn’t exist either.

Blaine’s story is a mashup of challenging circumstances, tough choices and the redemptive power of hard work. It’s a story that Blaine said he wants to tell, because he said no one should ever let their past define their future.

As a kid, Blaine grew up living between homes. His parents divorced when he was in 4th grade and he and his siblings alternated between his mom, dad and various family members. His dad and brother were in and out of jail with drug and alcohol addictions and Blaine’s only constants in life were school and work.

At school, he was often made fun of for his hand-me-down clothes and messy family life. But work was where he could put his head down and get tasks done. In 6th grade he started working for his uncle’s cable company. He gave all of his earnings back to his mom to help with bills and groceries.

As Blaine got older he realized that there was one thing about school that really excited him – sports. He wasn’t always the most skilled and he rarely had all of the right gear, but he always outworked everyone on the team. Blaine excelled at basketball and football and was quickly noticed and encouraged by his coaches, teachers and the community.

During his freshman year in high school he made the varsity basketball team. It was a huge honor and Blaine could finally stick out for reasons beyond his socioeconomic status. But as he was gearing up for his first game, he realized that he wouldn’t be able to afford the pair of shoes that the rest of the team was wearing.

He was embarrassed, but tried to pretend like it wasn’t a big deal. The next day he opened his locker and found a pair of the team shoes in his locker.

Blaine said he still doesn’t know who put those shoes there. He has a few guesses, but no one ever admitted to the generous act of kindness.

Even though he doesn’t know the name of the person who gave him the shoes, Blaine said that’s a person he thinks about nearly every day. To most people it was just a pair of shoes, but to Blaine it was affirmation that someone cared about and believed in him.

After high school, Blaine attended Peru State College where he played football and studied physical education and sports management.

In high school, he hadn’t been a very good student – he did just enough to play football on Friday night – but in college that changed. He zoned in on both sports and school, making the most of his four years in college.

Blaine said he worked extra hard in college because he was paying his own way, and he knew he needed to get a good job after he graduated. He also said that being away from the constant chaos of his home life was a relief and he realized he didn’t want to move forward with the same kind of lifestyle that he grew up witnessing.

After graduation, Blaine stayed on at Peru as a football coach and fell in love with the idea of making coaching his career. He was offered a coaching position at a Division 1 university. It was his dream job, the perfect career move… but he turned it down.

While the job would have been great for Blaine, it wasn’t a good fit for him and his daughter. It would have put thousands of miles between them and a strain on their relationship. As someone who grew up without a dad, Blaine knew this wouldn’t work.

He finished up his coaching stint at Peru and then decided to start a roofing company. Growing up in a farm town, there was always roof work to be done and Blaine had started his own company back in high school. He decided to pick up where he left off, confident in the fact that he could provide a good service to the community.

Over the past few years, Blaine has seen his business grow alongside his daughter. He said he wouldn’t trade watching her grow up for anything. He’s built a thriving business that he hopes to expand to a handful of midwest states, and he isn’t shy about his ambitions and expectations for himself and his business.

Blaine is a highly confident and driven person. He’s a fanatic about doing good work and helping others. That’s not how he was raised, but it’s how he wants to raise his daughter.

When Blaine thinks back on his story he’s not as ashamed as he used to be about the way he grew up. He knows that his experiences shaped who is, but he’s more than just a product of his circumstances.

Blaine made his own choices in life. He chose to step up, to get out and to lean in when he was needed. He made mistakes, but he learned to take responsibility for his actions.

His story is about more than just his past, it’s about his future, a future he’s writing and one he’s proud to call his own.

Dr. Tiffany Leonida

By

When Dr. Tiffany Leonida sits in her office with a patient, she can often hear the voices of her two daughters in the next room.

Her chiropractic clinic is their second home, or really their second playground. The two girls, Lucy and Myriel, often run around in patient gowns, pretending to be super heroes as they fly down the hallways and twirl through the lobby.

If this doesn’t sound like the typical chiropractic office, that’s because it’s not, and that’s the point.

Tiffany said her approach to care may be a little nontraditional, but it has largely been shaped by moments in her own story.

As a kid, Tiffany remembers being sick… a lot. She had strep throat four to five times a year along with whatever cold or flu her siblings had. At a certain point it felt ‘normal’ to be sick as often as she was, mostly because she couldn’t find a way to prevent it and there didn’t seem to be an alternative.

Fast-forward a few years to the end of high school and Tiffany found herself in a chiropractor’s office for the first time. She was an active kid who had pulled a muscle in her neck while doing the high jump. Tiffany figured she’d see the chiropractor a few times, her neck would feel better and that was it.

But what she found, was that as her neck improved so did her general health. She said the rest of her body slowly healed as she worked to realign her body. This experience, coupled with her geeky love of anatomy, encouraged her to study science and go on to chiropractic school.

Tiffany felt empowered as she began to understand how the back connected to so many other parts of the body. For the first time in a long time she felt hope for herself and other people who struggled with their health.

But during her second year of chiropractic school, her story took a sharp turn. Her long-time boyfriend suddenly went missing while on his way to an out of town conference. After three days, the local search and rescue team found his body.

Tiffany was in shock.

She didn’t know how to cope with the loss, so she dug deep into her part-time job at a coffee shop and her school work. She didn’t want to deal with her grief, mostly because she didn’t know how.

It was during this season of keeping her head in the books that she met Alex, a fellow classmate. They began studying together and slowly sharing about their personal lives. Two months after they began dating, Alex proposed.

In a span of two years, Alex and Tiffany got married started a practice together and had their first child.

“We don’t do anything by the book,” she said with a laugh.

The couple started their clinic to focus on chiropractic health for children and families, a passion that quickly became apparent to Tiffany because of her own experience with health.

They’ve structured their work around family and community, Tiffany said. Which translates to having her girls in the office if they’re not in school and getting to know her patients as if they were extensions of her family.

It also means that Tiffany does more than just chiropractic work during the week. Last year she began working with an organization called Parent Life, it’s a ministry that gives Tiffany an opportunity to mentor young parents who lack a support system. It allows her to use her experience as a parent and a medical professional to connect young moms with life-giving support and resources.

“I have this belief in life and its value, but also in women,” Tiffany said. “I’m not just pro-life or pro-women, I’m a blend and I needed to do something about that.”

Working beyond the walls of her practice has also given Tiffany the opportunity to be a part of both the beautiful and difficult moments of other people’s lives. It’s allowed her to enter in to grief and pain in a way that she’s familiar with because of the losses she encountered in her own story.

Tiffany said when she thinks about the layers and layers of her story they seem complicated and jumbled. She feels a little all over the place until she steps back and looks at the broader picture.

It’s when she does this that she can connect her childhood, her losses, her loves, her work and her passions to one another. They build on each other in a way that makes each of those moments more meaningful to her story.

It’s not finished, she said and it doesn’t all make sense, but that’s the point of an unfinished story.

There’s more to come, and that sense of more is why Tiffany keeps moving forward.

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