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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.

Alex Kolbo

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Alex Kolbo is one of those ‘cool’ teachers. He’s young, fun and he teaches high school art.

Most days there are a few students who hang out in his art room before or after school to work on projects or just to talk with Mr. Kolbo about whatever is on their mind.

Being an art teacher is a job that feels natural to Alex. It tracks well with this own love of all things artistic, plus, it’s relational, which is something he didn’t know would quickly become the best part of his job.

But Alex never saw himself as an art teacher. In fact, ever since first grade all he really wanted to be was an architect.

As a kid, Alex was always drawing. It was a hobby that was encouraged by his parents, teachers and nearly anyone who saw his work. He had talent, but he was a little shy to admit it. He remembers refusing to take compliments when people would look at his artwork. Then his dad sat him down and had a conversation about being grateful for his abilities and taught him how to accept encouragement from others.

But even though he was talented, Alex said he never thought about being an artist. He thought the more practical route would be architecture, because it combined his artistic skills with his math abilities… and he’d heard that architects earn a good living.

Architecture wasn’t just what Alex planned to do, it’s what he told everyone he would do – it was his identity. So when he went to college at UNL as an architecture major, nobody was surprised.

After two years of having a love-hate relationship with architecture – which Alex now fondly refers to as ‘archi-torture’ – he hit a major roadblock. While he enjoyed his classes, the math portion of his degree was proving extremely challenging, specifically his calculus class. He needed to pass calculus with a C or higher and after taking the class three times he was 1 percentage point away from passing the class.

He had two choices: take the class a fourth time and hopefully pass so that he could continue with his architecture degree, or change his major.

Alex went home for the weekend to think over his decision. He said it felt heavy and even a little sad to have his once certain future suddenly full of question marks. Alex met with friends and a handful of trusted mentors who listened to his dilemma and offered advice. He said the most common question everyone asked was, ‘Have you ever thought about teaching art?”

Teaching? Interesting, he thought.

But then came the list of questions and hesitations, the main one centering on if he could provide for his future family on a teacher’s salary. Plus, being a teacher didn’t seem nearly as glamorous as his architecture aspirations.

He was shocked by the fact that so many people had suggested the same career shift, but now the decision was up to him. Within a week Alex changed his major, ending his time at the architecture school and starting down the teaching path.

It’s been nearly seven years since Alex made the decision to become a teacher and he’s currently finishing up his fourth year at Lincoln East High School. He landed the job shortly after he graduated, and quickly found that teaching felt like such a natural use of his passions and skills.

“I love making art, it’s fun, but that alone hasn’t been the most meaningful part of my job,” he said. “It’s the building relationships, and I didn’t realize that would make me feel like this is where I’m meant to be.”

Whether he’s teaching pottery, photography, graphic design or even jewelry making, Alex said his goal is to connect with students and help them think creatively. He said creative thinking isn’t just for art, it’s for life, and art is the tool he’s using to teach his students these skills.

Alex knows that not every kid who walks into his classroom is thrilled about taking an art class. They don’t all have to love or even appreciate art, he said, but he wants them to know that he’s a teacher they can trust and learn from, whether it’s art or something from his own story.

Alex said teaching is something he can see himself doing for a long time. It gives him his own time and space to think creatively, plus it pairs well with his endeavors outside of the classroom. On weekends and during the summer he likes to take wedding and engagement photos, help his wife, Machelle, with her graphic design business, think up art-inspired Instagram posts, go on walks with their golden retriever and hang out with kids in his church’s youth group.

Nearly everything Alex does turns into some sort of exercise in creative thinking. It’s what he loves, what he’s passionate about and what naturally rises to the surface of both his work and hobbies.

It’s seems funny to think of Alex as being anything other than an art teacher at Lincoln East. It’s where he’s invested his skills and his time. And even though Alex is at the front of the classroom, it’s really his students who have shaped his story and encourage him to test his own creativity every day.

Dr. Colleen Jones

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At the beginning of her career, people were surprised when they learned that Dr. Colleen Jones’s field of study was centered in the business world.

They wondered how an African American woman who was so socially conscious and active could “work for the man”, and would even choose to do so.

She didn’t see the problem.

“I just had the idea that I would study and work hard and go home to help my mom open a business. I didn’t realize that becoming an entrepreneur was the last thing my studies were preparing me for.”

Dr. Jones, now a retired Professor of Management from the College of Business at the University of Nebraska – Lincoln and President of the Melvin Jones Foundation, looks back and points to one of the biggest things her education did teach her: that the big shifts, the earthquakes of change, begin with a small underground action.

Even if that action starts with getting a business degree.

When Colleen first arrived at the University of Iowa in 1968, she discovered a hotbed of activism on the midwestern campus. The dorms had recently been desegregated and antiwar demonstrations had shut down the campus during the spring before her arrival. Through circumstances, she found herself caught up in the times and responding to what was in front of her.

“I was a true baby boomer, growing up between the Civil Rights Movement and the Vietnam War and the Women’s Movement – I was swept up in the wave.”

She felt something in the air that said, “You need to understand what’s going on. You need to be a citizen of the world. You need to take care of home, but also community.”

While at Iowa, Colleen gained a strong foundation for her approach to the world and her career. She worked hard at her studies, but also invested time in the community around her, knowing that by taking part in things like creating a Culture Center and chairing Black History Week, she was making the way better for those who would follow her.

She observed the leadership on campus – particularly the president of the University, the head of her scholarship program and a VP of Student Affairs – all who created an atmosphere where positive activism was encouraged. She began to take notice of how to run and make change within a big structure.

In the middle of her studies and campus engagement, Colleen also met the man who would eventually become her husband – Melvin Jones. Their shared interests in business and social issues not only created a relationship that provided sharpening and encouragement, but also established a deep love and mutual respect.

When the time finally came to graduate from Iowa, Colleen began applying for jobs in her areas of study, which were accounting and qualitative methods. Job after job presented her with noisy, cold rooms and responsibilities limited to data processing.

She knew she couldn’t last long in any of these environments and so she began considering her alternatives – eventually landing in a master’s program at the University of Southern California – where she discovered a new passion for public administration.

At the completion of her degree, Colleen was once again faced with the decision of how she could use her experience to effect change. With little desire to pursue the political route many public administrators chose, she discovered a fellowship at the historically black college Tennessee State, where she was hired along with a team of engineers and administrators to help implement the use of early computers and reorganize the college registration system.

Toward the end of her time in Tennessee, she and Melvin tied the knot and following a series of moves and job offers, landed in Washington D.C.

While Melvin got to work for the Senate, Colleen found a job at the Department of Education, but quickly learned that D.C. jobs could be uncertain due to political funding.

Returning back to the job market, Colleen discovered that many of the applicants she was competing with held doctorates. Through the encouragement of her husband and with opportunity nearby, she enrolled in a doctoral program at George Washington University.

Her entry into higher education once again put her around educators who valued her work and dedication and eventually asked if she would consider teaching two times a week. She agreed and five weeks into the job, realized that she had found her calling.

“I knew I didn’t want to do anything else but this.”

She discovered she loved the process of people becoming interested in something. Here was a way of providing an environment where people couldn’t help but learn.

With few black women in higher ed, she enjoyed the opportunity to provide people with a chance to see through her own lens and personal experience while also providing them with head knowledge.

It was a perspective she eventually brought with her to Lincoln, Nebraska, when she and her husband Melvin were offered jobs at the University of Nebraska.

When the University first courted the couple, they both wondered if Lincoln would be a place where they could live and thrive.

They knew they would find their answers by engaging with the community. As they began to interact with more people during their interviews and ask the right questions, they discovered a positivity and excitement that welcomed them in. They decided to take the plunge and moved to Lincoln.

Today, Dr. Jones is retired from teaching, but remains deeply invested in the community and is active on multiple boards and social projects. She sees Lincoln as a place for positive well-being, with good pockets for change and growth.

The cause most dear to her heart is the Melvin Jones Foundation – an organization formed following the untimely death of her husband and partner. In order to promote his vision for constructive change and mentorship, she and Melvin’s family formed a learning community committed to helping first-generation and minority students find connection and direction and inevitably graduation on the campus of UNL.

Dr. Jones has found a way back to where she started, only this time, instead of entering an arena where action and change are taking place, she is the the one tilling the soil and pushing others up to take the small actions that will start the momentum for change. She encourages students to pay attention, just as she was told, to move forward and believe that change can happen in all sorts of ways and through all kinds of people.

Buzz Vance

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He doesn’t wear a special suit, no gloves or mask. Just jeans, a t-shirt and his baseball hat. He moves slowly but deliberately, he knows what he’s doing. After all, he’s being doing this for 36 years.

‘Buzz’ Vance is a beekeeper.

No, his real name isn’t ‘Buzz,’ but his fitting nickname did come into play before he became a beekeeper.

What started out as a hobby in graduate school has now turned into a part time business that keeps Buzz pretty busy in addition to his regular job.

On Wednesday afternoons during the summer, Buzz is with his bees. He’ll check on the majority of his 50 hives, containing somewhere between 40-50,000 bees each, looking in on the queen bees, honey levels and the overall look of the hives.

He gets almost giddy around the bees, proudly talking about their fierce loyalty to the queen and pointing to the areas of liquid gold they’ve already created in the combs.

Simply put, Buzz loves bees. That’s probably not surprising at this point, but his love of bees actually came from a long-held fascination with bugs.

As a kid, Buzz was that toddler picking up and prodding every bug he could get his hands on. His mother encouraged his interest in bugs by taking him to the local library to check out any book he could about every bug variation.

Remember his nickname? Well before it was ‘Buzz,’ his uncle gave him the nickname ‘Bugs’ because of his unending interest in any and every bug he saw.

In college it seemed only natural that Buzz chose to study entomology at UNL. He went on to earn a Master’s degree, and while in school his friends changed his nickname of ‘Bugs’ to ‘Buzz’ and it just stuck.

During graduate school Buzz started tinkering with his first two bee hives. He was fascinated by how the bees understood their intricate roles and how they created such a delicious byproduct.

But being a beekeeper has never been Buzz’s full-time gig. He was a pastor and has also worked multiple jobs within the Nebraska Department of Agriculture.

Over the past few years, Buzz has really kicked up his beekeeping. He wanted to see if he was up for the challenge. He said it was kind of like a competition he had with himself to see how much honey he could produce with the bees he had.

At one point he had so much extra honey that he needed to start selling it, and that’s when he got a booth at the farmer’s market. Now, he has a long list of regulars who ask for honey throughout the year – even though he only harvests honey twice during the summer.

It’s a lot to keep up with, but Buzz likes the challenge.

He says he produces somewhere in the neighborhood of 250 gallons of honey each year. It’s a lot of honey, but also a lot of bees… the actual count of bees is probably somewhere in the millions he said.

When asked if he’d been stung a lot, he laughed.

“Oh yeah,” he said, but it doesn’t really bother him. The bees don’t mean anything by it, and they really only get aggressive when they feel threatened.

But Buzz doesn’t just have bees for the honey, he does it to learn. He raises queen bees, maintains his 50 hives and extracts and bottles all of his own honey. It’s not an easy or simple process, but for Buzz, it’s about learning.

“You can never learn everything there is about bees,” he said. “They are complicated and fascinating, and I still learn new things about bees after 36 years.”

If Buzz could go back to school just to study bees, he’d do it. But for now, he’s content tending to his hives and mentoring new beekeepers about the delicate process.

Being outside with his bees is where Buzz comes to life. It’s the place he smiles the most and gets excited about the intricate details of the bees and their work. He’s proud of what he does and the way he’s cultivated a hobby into a business, and it’s what makes his story that much sweeter.

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