All posts by: Catalina Sofia Dansberger Duque


Meet a Retriever—Devin Wilkins, civil servant turned student in community leadership with a mission for Baltimore’s renaissance

Devin Wilkins walks around with a huge smile. If you ask him why, he’ll tell you it’s because he’s doing what he loves in the city he grew up in, for the community that inspires him every day. Wilkins is a former civil servant turned art entrepreneur, community leader, event organizer, and, for at least another year, a proud UMBC student pursuing a Master’s in Community Leadership. 

“The community leadership program is committed to partnering with, and learning from, Baltimore individuals, communities, and organizations,” says Sally Scott, director of Community Leadership Graduate Programs. “Devin’s decision to pursue his master’s brings this commitment to life!”

Devin has also become Baltimore’s resident coloring-book author, creating the Black Baltimore Renaissance Coloring Book—which gives children and the young at heart a reason to color inside the lines while exploring the key figures, places, history, culture, and arts that make Baltimore special. From coloring books to community events, Devin has found a way to turn his love for Baltimore into work that celebrates and uplifts its people. Take it away, Devin!

Q: What was your journey to UMBC?

A: In 2021, I had the idea for The Black Baltimore Renaissance Coloring Book, which I released in 2022 to highlight Baltimore’s culture, artists, entrepreneurs, creatives, and the youth and community work I was doing. That led me to work with the Waterfront Partnership of Baltimore on one of their local music and makers festival series called Baltimore by Baltimore. I produced the Black Baltimore Renaissance of Love for Our City event as part of the festival, where Baltimore’s Black artists, musicians, businesses, and community came together to celebrate their culture and creativity. 

A website advertisement for a music festival Baltimore by Baltimore with a photo of Devin Wilkins standing with his hands folded in front of him, he is wearing a black baseball hat and jean jacket there are pictures of artists in the background
Baltimore by Baltimore announcement. (Image courtesy of the Baltimore Waterfront Partnership)

Through that work, I met Sally and Joby Taylor, Ph.D. ’05, language, literacy, and culture, assistant vice provost and co-director of the Shriver Center. They created Reimagining the Harbor, a community-based initiative that works with the Waterfront Partnership of Baltimore to revitalize Baltimore’s Inner Harbor. Sally and Joby always had a table at Baltimore by Baltimore with information about the community leadership programs that UMBC offers.  

I’d been out of school for 12 or 13 years. I always said I would only go back if it was something I truly wanted to be involved in. Then I took the Digital Storytelling Skills course—and I got the bug. By my mid-30s, I’d found my purpose: community work and pouring into other people. I realized my events could be more than just fun; they could have purpose and passion behind them. UMBC gave me the academic context for the community leadership work I was already doing in Baltimore. Now, it’s not just what I feel—it’s something I can study, understand, and build upon.

Q: What inspired you to switch careers?

A: It’s growth. I feel like now, age means something to me. I had a child when I graduated my senior year of college, and I had another child, my youngest son, when I was about to be 30. So that was the beginning of two times—entering my 20s and leaving my 20s. I wasn’t fulfilled. I was navigating being a Black man, and I wasn’t happy. I get if you have financial restrictions, obligations, people dependent on you, but I felt that I can’t be a great father, a great man, a great anything, if I’m stuck in an unfulfilling life

The COVID-19 quarantine really put me in that mindset that it was a time for me to reset. When quarantine ended, many people returned to doing the same thing because they felt it created stability. I didn’t experience a pandemic to continue to do the same hustle and bustle day in and day out just because I needed to survive. It was a lot of inner work. That was just the growth that I had. I’m not chasing dollars that don’t make sense to me. I had to stand for what I believe in. At the end of the day, I have to live this life. I have to be in this body. I want to make sure I enjoy my life to the fullest and do everything that I want to do, and not what someone else told me to do.

I took the leap of faith, and ever since, there have been opportunities, growth, expansion, and maturity as well. That’s what these past 36 months have been about.

Q: What advice do you have for students in search of a path?

A: To find your passion and purpose, you have to do that inner work yourself. My passion led me here. Sit with yourself, block out the noise, and find what you want—a master’s, a doctorate, or a different path. I understand some students have pressure from their families to follow a specific career path like engineering or medicine. Find something within those careers that speaks to who you are, who you want to be. That’s the only way you can be successful. You can’t live your life for anybody else. 

I didn’t want to go back to school just for a degree or for something I didn’t enjoy. I took 15 years to find this new path. The next 15 years will lead me to being a 50-year-old man. I’ve learned to live by four pillars: family, school, my work with the Waterfront Partnership, and my business, Meeting You Where You Are. Whether I’m driving my children to school, being a graduate assistant, managing an event at the Inner Harbor, or developing more coloring books, I’m always me. Everything I do is tied to these four pillars. I’m my own brand. I don’t have to be anybody but me in every way. If an opportunity doesn’t align with these four pillars, then I don’t need to pursue it.

Q: What is your vision for Baltimore’s future?

A: The vision I have for Baltimore is about freedom—being able to be real, be yourself, and live without all the things that hold people back. Honestly, I think we need to do away with some of these old ideas around power and who gets to make decisions for our communities. I envision a city where the people actually run the community, where we’re not constantly dependent on money and funding from somebody who, in some ways, may be trying to oppress us, while we’re still taking those same resources. I look at it as people being the people. You see that in Baltimore’s Latinx community, where people have built systems to support their community. 

Baltimore is majority Black and brown, so why shouldn’t the people who live in these communities have more control over what happens in them? I see companies that are not from Baltimore coming into the city and making money off the trauma and struggles that our communities experience. I want to see that change. I want Baltimore to be for Baltimoreans, for the people who live here—not a place where people are constantly performing for somebody else or playing games for power. We are the power. Once you realize that, you start moving differently. 

Q: What is the Baltimore you envision for Baltimore’s youth?

A: The most important thing I want them to understand is to know your worth, know who you are, and be whoever you want to be. Don’t feel like you have to perform a certain version of yourself just because that’s what people expect from you or because that’s what the media presents as their version of life in Baltimore. You don’t have to stay in that box. We can do anything and everything. People say it’s cliché to say anything is possible, but I really believe that. When I think about the future of Baltimore, I see something limitless, authentic, and, by all means, free.

* * * * *

UMBC’s greatest strength is its people. When people meet Retrievers and hear about the passion they bring, the relationships they create, the ways they support each other, and the commitment they have to inclusive excellence, they truly get a sense of our community. That’s what “Meet a Retriever” is all about.

Learn more about how UMBC can help you achieve your goals.

Small publishers, big ideas

Craig Saper’s new book tells the storied life of small press book publishers and the literary world they created.

As readers, we tend to associate our favorite books with their authors, some of whom have larger-than-life personalities that extend beyond their published works. Rarely do we think of the people and structures that made the book possible, especially if they are small, lesser-known publishing houses. In his new book Auteur-Publishers: Small Press Practices As Avant-Garde Writing, Craig Saper, professor of language, literacy, and culture, places these small publishing houses and the publishers front and center, showcasing the relationships that literally bind a book. He explores presses launched by artists, writers, and activists from the 1890s to the present, each with intriguing histories and personalities that have left the art and literary world with a rich legacy for artists and aspiring small press publishers to whom the book is dedicated.  

“I have a background in media studies and borrow the word auteur, French for author, used in film studies, to suggest that the author of a film is not the writer but the director. It’s about a collective vision beyond the writers,” says Saper, who also authored The Amazing Adventures of Bob Brown (2016), Intimate Bureaucracies (2012), Networked Art (2001), and Artificial Mythologies (1997). “I argue that the author of a book is not simply the writer, but the term also includes the publisher. Like a film director, the small press publisher plays an essential role in shaping, organizing, and ultimately authoring the work.”

Q: What intrigues you about the writer-publisher relationship?

A: Part of the fascination comes from asking a simple question: Who are these people, and why don’t we know anything about publishers? We know so much about the personal lives, relationships, and even sex lives of writers—Hemingway, for example, is someone we have heard more than enough about—but what do we really know about the publishers and editors who helped create their books? Who made those books possible? Who shaped, supported, and even helped invent the writers as the literary figures we now recognize them to be? These questions became an important starting point for the book. I talk about the idea of the smallest details, the beautiful part of the publishing process, and the intimacy of these relationships, looking at the close connections between publishers, editors, writers, and the communities who helped make the work—and the literary world around it—possible.

Q: How can small presses create intimate relationships, and how does that sometimes backfire?

A: The beginning of the book explores the notion of alienation—not only our alienation from our environment, our communities, and our work, but also the possibility of becoming more connected to those things. That is why the idea of intimacy feels so important here. Intimacy does not have to mean only loving relationships. It can also describe the deep connections we form with friends, neighbors, communities, and people whose histories become intertwined with our own. 

This is especially evident among the people who create and sustain small presses, where publishing is often built on close friendships, shared histories, and a sense of collective commitment. At the same time, those relationships can be complicated or even fraudulent. The books may demand enormous amounts of labor and devotion, and sometimes the people who helped create them eventually step outside that orbit, leaving behind relationships and communities that once seemed inseparable.

Q: Were there things that surprised you about the people who created these presses?

A black and white picture of a woman and a man dressed in business suits working in a room with a printing press
Cunard with Crowder working at Hours Press. (Gamma-Keystone via Getty Images)

A: These characters were very colorful. There was something about printing and making books that was erotic for many of these small publishers. Some of the people’s sexuality was what we now call polyamorous and, during their lifetimes, illegal and often illicit.

One was the avant-garde artist, writer, fashion icon, and publisher Nancy Cunard, a white British shipping heiress. She left her family and inheritance to join a radical bohemian world of creative geniuses. After learning printing and publishing from Virginia Woolf, she founded the Hours Press, which ran from 1928 to 1931 in Réanville, Normandy, in collaboration with Henry Crowder (1890–1955), an American jazz musician with whom she was in a relationship. Their interracial relationship—Cunard was white and Crowder Black—was not welcomed by her family, nor were her short-cropped hair and antifascist beliefs. Cunard learned about systemic racism from Crowder, and together they gathered a collection of poetry, fiction, and nonfiction about Black life in the United States, the West Indies, South America, Europe, and Africa, titled Negro: An Anthology, including works by W. E. B. Du Bois, Langston Hughes, and Zora Neale Hurston, which Cunard paid to publish in 1934. She died in 1965, penniless, leaving behind monumental achievements in modernist publishing and social justice.

Harlem Renaissance poet, artist, and publisher, Kathleen Tankersley Young, another now almost completely forgotten poet and publisher, was involved in a serious artistic partnership with Charles Henri Ford, who wrote The Young and Evil, the first gay novel. One reason she has been overlooked is that she also published in the Harlem Renaissance publications, including the magazine Opportunity: A Journal of Negro Life, while the journal she created with Ford in 1929, Blues Magazine: A Magazine of New Rhymes, was much better known. She also died tragically and under suspicious circumstances at 30 years old, having published an important series of publications mixing modernist art and poetry.

Q: Did you ever meet any of these publishers?

A: One of the people I write about is Dick Higgins. He was an artist, composer, art theorist, and poet who started Something Else Press. He was also a co-founder of Fluxus, an international, interdisciplinary community of avant-garde artists, composers, and poets active in the 1960s and 1970s who emphasized performance, process, Vaudeville-like humor, and chance over traditional forms of art objects. Something Else Press published work from Fluxus artists.

When I started to write about Fluxus, not knowing anything really about them, I wrote to Dick Higgins. I was a young person; I didn’t know any better. I just wrote to the press and said, “I wanna buy these books,” and I listed off 10 or 15 titles. I got this official-looking memo from Higgins with just one line typed:  “I want to meet you.” We did finally meet years later. He was just a really loving person. Higgins passed away shortly after he had actually come and visited me. It led me to think about how artists and writers occupied bureaucratic forms and organizations, and that eventually led me to think about these small press publishers as artists and auteurs. 

Q: What do you want students to take away from your research?

A: Students can think about building a small press, a zine, or a small organization as a creative practice, rather than as a logistical exercise with profit margins as the goal, and use this book as a guide.

Build something. Do it and do it better.

Read more about UMBC’s humanities books. 

Faculty Fulbright funds research in Australia to draw students to macro social work

Kerri Evans is headed to Central Queensland University (CQUniversity) in Sydney, Australia, thanks to the Fulbright U.S. Scholar Program, to bring back to UMBC’s School of Social Work new ideas to inform and encourage more students to pursue a career in macro social work. 

Headshot of Fulbright Scholar Kerri Evans, professor of macro social work
Kerri Evans/Melissa Penley Cormier, M.F.A. ’17

As a macro social worker—someone who focuses on large-scale social issues—Evans spent eight years in social service administration and policy roles before entering academia. Since joining UMBC in 2020, the associate professor of social work has noticed that graduate students are choosing careers in clinical social work—assisting families facing food or housing insecurity, mental health counseling, and substance abuse treatment support—over macro social work. Evans serves as a member of the Special Commission to Advance Macro Social Work, which is concerned about the impact of the decrease in macro social workers beyond UMBC. 

While contributing research to the textbook Human Rights and Social Justice in a Global Perspective: An Introduction to International Social Work, Evans learned about Australia’s treatment of immigrants and refugees and began researching social work in Australia. In doing so, she met Sarah Wayland, professor of social work at CQUniversity’s School of Nursing, Midwifery and Social Sciences, and found that they have developed an internship program that highlights macro social work more intentionally to try and address this gap. This academic year, Evans will study how students in CQUniversity’s social work program understand and develop an interest in macro social work roles, including policy, advocacy, and leadership.

“Students in CQUniversity’s social work program bring diverse lived experiences, similar to those of UMBC students who transfer from community colleges,” says Evans. “CQUniversity also has a deep interest in innovative teaching and targeted efforts to include First Nations students and international students. Through in-depth interviews with these students, we will contribute to scholarship on how lived experience—especially trauma—influences career choices in social work.”

Evans, whose research focuses on immigrant and refugee populations, draws many international and immigrant students to her classes. When she learned that CQU’s Master’s in Social Work program focused on training international students, Evans knew this was the right collaboration.

A social work students stands next to Fulbright Scholar Kerri Evans professor of macro social work
(Image courtesy of UMBC’s School of Social Work)

During the study, she will supervise two social work students from CQUniversity. They will conduct research virtually with two UMBC undergraduate students who will be part of the community advisory board that will guide the project, help with literature reviews, and be co-authors on peer-reviewed articles and/or conference presentations.

“Australia’s accreditation process closely mirrors the United States’, yet CQUniversity implements it differently than UMBC. For instance, they offer more macro-focused courses and a research internship not currently available at UMBC,” says Evans. “This opens valuable opportunities for mutual learning and possible curricular innovation. UMBC’s social work department is beginning a curriculum review, making this an ideal time for collaboration.”

UMBC student and faculty Fulbrights have traveled the world to build research collaborations and develop creative solutions to some of the world’s most pressing issues. Sarah Jewett, a 2024 Fulbright alum to Loughborough University, England, is now at the helm of UMBC’s faculty Fulbright program and will ensure faculty have the support they need as they change the world.

“I have experienced the transformative power of these global opportunities,” says Jewett, director of learning partnerships in research and practice in UMBC’s Honors College. “I look forward to supporting faculty and staff as they explore the full range of Fulbright options.”

Learn more about UMBC’s School of Social Work.

Beyond the visa: UMBC supports its global community through trainings and human connections

The world researches, teaches, and learns at UMBC thanks to international student and scholar visas. With hundreds of international faculty and staff, our international Retriever family thrives because of the community and the infrastructure that supports their journey. Diane Zeenny Ghorayeb ’20, modern languages, linguistics, and intercultural communication, M.A. ’22, intercultural communication, UMBC’s international scholar senior coordinator, ensures this important and complex process is handled with care, accuracy, and a people-first mindset.

Zeenny Ghorayeb developed that people-first mindset long before she became a Retriever. She was born in Beirut, Lebanon, and lived in Paris, France, for more than 20 years before moving to the United States in 2006. This sparked a curiosity for world cultures and how people adapt when they move to a new country. It also instilled an understanding of what it takes to create a welcoming and compassionate community, inspiring her to combine her experience as a global citizen with her classroom knowledge to design two trainings: a cross-cultural communication training in 2021 and immigration training in 2024.

“My role and trainings are the first of their kind at UMBC. They align with the university’s investment in a globally engaged campus community by providing resources to support the international Retriever experience, be that as employers, teachers, or classmates,” says Zeenny Ghorayeb. She translates complicated requirements for UMBC-sponsored visa categories into practical guidance to help UMBC remain compliant. “It is rewarding seeing people develop new skills and a deeper understanding while also connecting with me and each other,” says Zeenny Ghorayeb, who has been at UMBC for 10 years. “Some of my friends have gone through the trainings, which has made us even closer.”

Immigration process made clear

With constant regulation changes, Zeenny Ghorayeb has adapted her immigration training and taken it on the road to faculty and leadership meetings. More than 350 people have received the training, creating a more informed university on the complexities of working and studying in the U.S. 

The trainings teach faculty and staff responsible for managing international employees and students how to initiate visa applications and maintain compliance with J-1 researcher visas, H-1B employee visas, and, in liaison with UMBC’s outside immigration counsel, the United States permanent residency process. As regulations shifted, Zeenny Ghorayeb added sessions for specialized audiences, including human resources staff, leadership, and 30-minute crash courses for new leaders to help them navigate the latest immigration-related requirements and policy changes. 

“In this year’s immigration training day,” said Zeenny Ghorayeb, “the audience expanded to include shared services and financial services because they were interested in all the sessions, especially the human resources/payroll session.”

Once a visa petition has been approved by United States Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS), the Office of International Students and Scholars (OISS)—the team Zeenny Ghorayeb is a part of—advises UMBC’s international students and scholars on navigating the visa process and maintaining valid immigration status. Immigration advising involves status maintenance, compliance, employment authorization, sponsorship, changing regulations, and individualized case analysis.

However, navigating visa regulations is only one part of welcoming global scholars and students. Faculty, staff, and students must also invest in their interpersonal skills to foster engaging and supportive cross-cultural relationships.

Communicating effectively

Before Zeenny Ghorayeb launched her immigration trainings, she was already a familiar face across campus and the University System of Maryland (USM) as an intercultural communication trainer. The workshops—designed to prepare teams to communicate more effectively across cultural differences—started as a project for one of her master’s classes. It was so well received that she refined it and became a freelance intercultural communications trainer. Since 2021, Zeenny Ghorayeb has partnered with departments across UMBC and throughout USM, equipping them with practical tools and strategies needed to sustain and develop an international workforce and learning environment. 

“Cultural differences can create misunderstandings and affect how people interpret each other. When people understand these differences, they become more accepting and better able to work together,” says Zeenny Ghorayeb. “It has been rewarding to see UMBC embrace the processes and interpersonal skills that define a welcoming international R1 institution. What is most important is building collaboration across campus.” 

Learn more about UMBC’s Office of International Students and Scholars.

With great scientific powers comes great responsibility: Mercedes Burns, arachnid researcher, reviews “Spider-Man: Brand New Day”

Spoiler alert!

The first Spider-Man movie with Tom Holland as Peter Parker, “Homecoming,” was released almost a decade ago in 2017. Mercedes Burns, associate professor of biological sciences and Spider-Man fan, has been studying arachnids for double that. This summer’s blockbuster, “Spider-Man: Brand New Day,” shows Peter Parker slowly becoming an actual spider as the result of hormonal imbalances triggered by extreme stress, trauma, and long-term social isolation. He produces organic webbing, his eyes turn pitch-black, his “Spidey senses” are enhanced, and biological web slingers develop in his wrists for close-quarters combat. Burns, who wore her spider taxonomy t-shirt to the movie, will tell us if these upgrades have any scientific merit.

Q: What was your first reaction to the movie, particularly from a scientific perspective?

A: I enjoyed the movie, though I preferred 2021’s “Spider-Man: No Way Home.” I thought the new movie was a little uneven scientifically. Some things were extremely technical and accurate, while other things were vague. I did some research on the vague hormone discussion, to try to understand why that aspect was much less specific than some of the other science in the movie. 

Mercedes Burns standing in front of a display of red, black, and blue balloons, wearing a t-shirt with spiders on it
Mercedes Burns wore her spider taxonomy t-shirt to the new Spider-Man movie. (Courtesy of Burns)

There was a piece in the trailer where Bruce Banner, the Hulk—portrayed as a physics professor at the fictional Empire State University—explains the life cycle of the spider that did not make it into the movie. So there was no clear reason for why the changes were happening. It made it seem as though Spider-Man was becoming more spidery simply because he was getting really upset or sad.

Q: Was there anything scientifically inaccurate about Bruce Banner’s explanation of Spider-Man’s DNA changes?

A: There was an extremely complicated discussion of how short non-coding RNAs were being used to limit the Hulk’s and Spider-Man’s powers by binding proteins involved in their abilities. This therapy is based on RNA interference, which was discovered in the late 1990s. It is only very recently that any short-interfering RNA (siRNA) drugs have been FDA-approved, though, such as for certain forms of hemophilia—so this is very recent technology. Overall, I was impressed by how much detail they put into how the DNA limiter worked.

There was one important mistake, though. Professor Banner talked about needing to destroy mRNA before it is transcribed, when the correct terminology is translation. DNA is transcribed into mRNA, and mRNA is then translated into proteins. If they were talking about destroying mRNA before it is used to make a protein, they should have said translated, not transcribed. 

Q: What about the explanation about the surge in arachnid hormones?

A: The hormone description was extremely vague compared to the RNA discussion. One arachnid hormone that we know something about is a steroid called ecdysone, which triggers molting and increased body size. Ecdysone opposes the action of juvenile hormone, which has been studied extensively in insects, because it can be used in biological control to prevent insects from maturing. 

We know what spiders look like when they are under stress and that some species are very resilient to stress. But we do not know as much about how spiders physiologically deal with stress or whether stress might impact hormone levels, which may be why that aspect of the movie was so vague.

Q: Are these hormones what makes Parker’s new webs stronger?

hand holding tweezers with spider silk wrapped around them; grasses in background
Mercedes Burns collects silk from a Saint Andrew’s cross spider in Australia. (Photo by Mercedes Burns)

A: Probably not. Spider-Man producing silk from his wrists is weird from a biological perspective. It would make more sense if the silk came from his feet, because spinnerets in spiders develop somewhat like a leg, but humans really do not have an equivalent to the spinnerets.

I know a lot about silks, because one of my research projects is focused on sticky proteins that arthropods, including spiders, produce to capture prey. The proteins that spiders make to produce their webs are a unique class of proteins called spidroins. 

Spidroins are made up of proteins that form chains. Spiders make these building blocks, which have to align with each other as they are extruded through the spinnerets. The spinnerets contain many little glands where spiders can press out the particular protein that the silk glands produce.

Hypothetically, if you were trying to control the translation of silk proteins in a spider, one way you could do that would be with siRNAs, which could bind to the mRNA and keep the protein from being made—although this would be extremely difficult to do in practice.

Q: Why would it be so difficult to replicate Spider-Man’s web?

A: The silk Spider-Man produces from his wrists is a really sticky, stretchy mass that is also strong. He uses it to stick to surfaces, swing, wrap enemies so that they are restrained without being harmed, and perform other functions. It would be difficult to replicate this material because of how many functions it has. 

In reality, spiders make many kinds of silk: some make more than 10 types. Each type has a particular job, such as for wrapping eggs or producing a covering around the eggs. The silks that are probably most important to Spider-Man are flagelliform silk and aggregate spidroin. Flagelliform silk is really stretchy. In a spider web, it forms the capture spiral, the circular part of an orb-weaver’s web. Aggregate spidroin is the sticky part of the capture spiral. 

Q: What was scientifically accurate about the explanation Ned Leeds, Spider-Man’s best friend, gave of the mechanical web shooters?

A: Ned asks Spider-Man what material is in Spider-Man’s web shooters. Ned suggests that if it is a synthetic biomaterial, it is probably a liquid polymer inside the web shooters that becomes a fiber. He also suggests that the shearing forces from pressing the material out of the web shooter cause the liquid to become a polymer.

That was spot on.

Inside the glands, the building blocks for spider silk exist as a liquid called dope. The glands’ pH becomes more acidic, which triggers the protein building blocks to start lining up. The dope is also physically pressed through spigots within the spinnerets, and the mechanical force gets the protein into the appropriate conformation. What comes out is a fiber made of blocks of protein.

The web shooters work in a way that could provide the necessary mechanical force to allow a liquid to become a fiber. Ned’s reasoning about a liquid becoming a polymer and then becoming a fiber was remarkably similar to how these biomaterials are described in the scientific literature.

The mystery is the actual material. They know it would be some sort of molecule that polymerizes—that has units that join together as they leave the device. The specific molecule used by Spider-Man remains fictional and proprietary to the story.

Q: How do Spider-Man’s web shooters relate to the way he uses his powers?

spider in a terrarium wrapped in a silk cocoon
This jumping spider has spun itself a silk hammock in preparation for molting. (Photo by Ryan Bacon, Ph.D. ’26)

A: I am impressed with how Spider-Man learns his own body and his unique way of using his powers in this iteration. His web shooters allow him to work with the police to apprehend criminals without killing them. He can hold people up, restrain them, and throw things in their path. The ingenuity of his use of silk is really cool, because he is using it for good. Spiders are also an example of animals creating structures for good. They live in our houses and feed on pests that we do not like, so they are providing a service for us. In Spider-Man’s case, a human is using similar abilities to protect others.

Q: Is there anything real about the scene where Spider-Man wakes up in a spider cocoon, particularly his black eyes?

A: Yes, there are spiders that produce silk cocoons, such as jumping spiders. When they are getting ready to molt and grow larger, they will often create a little sling or hammock for themselves and surround themselves with silk for protection.

The black eyes, however, are probably a visual effect intended to make Spider-Man look more spider-like. Most spiders probably have poor vision. Their eyes do not have a pupil that focuses in the same way human eyes do. 

Q: The trailer hints that Spider-Man is going through the life cycle of a spider. Does this mean Spider-Man will die?

A: I hope not, because for Peter Parker it would be a very short life. There is a lot of variation among spiders. The order of arachnids that includes spiders is vast, with roughly 70,000 species. Some are very long-lived, especially compared to other arthropods like insects and crustaceans. For species that live a long time, such as tarantulas and trapdoor spiders, females typically live longer than males, sometimes up to 30 years. 

small jumping spider on a thin leaf
Jumping spiders like this one lay out a “dragline” of silk as they move about, to catch themselves in case of an unexpected fall. (Photo by Mercedes Burns)

Peter Parker is male, however, and many male spiders have incredibly short lives. In many species, males do not survive a mating encounter. A female may eat a male if she is not reproductively mature or if she is hungry. To the degree that a spider’s life cycle involves periods of seclusion, molting, and getting larger, though, there is some similarity.

Q: Is Spider-Man a jumping spider?

A: Spider-Man seems like a combination of different spiders. The art and emblems on his suit would suggest an orb weaver. Spider-Man does have characteristics that are similar to those of a jumping spider, such as cocooning in response to stress. However, jumping spiders always produce a dragline when they are moving through the environment so they can survive a sudden fall, and Spider-Man fires webs to keep himself from falling. So, Spider-Man’s overall appearance may be more like a garden spider, but some of his capabilities better match a jumping spider.

Q: Why did you like “Spider-Man: No Way Home” better?

A: There was more interaction between Peter and his friends. I really enjoy Zendaya’s version of MJ, Spider-Man’s girlfriend. I also really like Ned as a supporting character. They are extremely intelligent in their own right and are curious about things. I like the depiction of three scientifically curious young people working together. 

Some of the other Marvel superheroes have AI, magic, or something else that provides them with insight. Spider-Man has his friends. I like this version of Spider-Man because he gets advice from other superheroes here and there, but he is also figuring things out himself and getting some help from his friends. I think it is cool to have your high school friends as your superhero support group.

Learn more about arachnid research in the Burns Arthropod Evolution Lab.

Details and detective skills matter at Reese Finnigan’s internship at the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum’s archives in Bowie 

Deep in UMBC’s climate-controlled Special Collections are 750,000 prints, negatives, and transparencies from The Baltimore Sun dating from the 1930s through the 1980s. 

Before faculty and students can use the collection, archivists must create finding aids. These inventory documents describe a collection—its origins, number of pieces, types of materials, their quality, dates, number of archival boxes, box measurements, and more. It’s a road map guiding users through each piece of a collection.

Reese Finnigan, studying the history of the Soviet Union and learning Russian, developed these archival skills working on The Baltimore Sun collection during her first year in the Master of Arts in Public History program. This year, when looking for summer internship opportunities, Finnigan was excited to find that the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum Shapell Family Collections, Conservation and Research Center in Bowie, Maryland—a museum she had tried to secure a curatorial or research internship with for years—was seeking an intern with her exact skill set.

“In retrospect, this is the first year that I’ve had the skills and resume needed for this level of archival work,” says Finnigan, grateful that Maryland is home to such a prestigious research center with the largest concentration of Holocaust-related records in the United States, and to learn from archival experts with decades of experience. “The opportunities UMBC has given me to learn Russian, historical research, and archival skills dovetailed very nicely with the center’s Archival Affairs Division internship, which required knowledge of Eastern European history and languages.”

Needle in the digital stack

The finding aids for the Eastern European collection that Finnigan is working on do not always directly correspond to what is in the archive. Some materials are in the wrong order or are missing finding aids. Other times, some things aren’t listed in the original file but are actually in it. Finnigan also has to translate the words on the document, which could be a translation of the original language, depending on where the document was recovered from. It could be Russian, a Slavic language, or any language using the Cyrillic alphabet, which is used for various languages across Eastern Europe, the former Soviet Union, and the Soviet Republics of Central Asia. 

An archivist stands in an office cubicle pointing to two computer screens that display a website and and thumbnails of a digital archive
Finnigan showing the documents and photographs she is creating finding aids for.

She spends hours cross-checking inventories, documents, photos, descriptions, and creating new spreadsheets that reflect the latest information. She then hands it off to another archivist to double-check her work. It’s a cycle of verification and refinement to align the finding aids with the accurate collections. The maze of finding aids is the result of different archival processes carried out across borders, countries, and decades. “The researcher should be able to come in and find something quickly without ever having to think too much about it. The easier they can find things, the better,” says Finnigan. 

A note from the past

Some mysteries are beyond languages and locations, stumping even a team of experts and bringing them together to do serious detective work. That’s exactly what happened when Finnigan noticed a small symbol on some original photos in a Lithuanian KGB (national security and intelligence agency) collection placed by the original archives. She asked archivists Julie Schweitzer, her boss, and Alla Dvorkin, her direct supervisor, but they hadn’t seen it before either. The mystery quickly spread throughout the building, ensuing a string of emails with experts weighing in, hoping to reveal the meaning of what looked like a small bean. They found that the symbol was a mark used in some European archival systems to note the poor quality of the writing or the photography.

Finnigan showing the mysterious mark she came across in a set of photographs.

“People often imagine archival work as simply preserving historical materials. In reality, a surprising amount of the job involves acting as part historian, part detective, part translator, and occasionally part conspiracy theorist—until someone finds the answer,” Finnigan posted on LinkedIn. “It’s a reminder that expertise is often collective. No single person knew the answer. The solution emerged through conversations, institutional knowledge, and a network of colleagues willing to chase down an obscure question simply because it mattered.” 

To preserve and share

In the last few weeks of her internship, Finnigan received additional training from Adam Fielding, a processing archivist who works primarily with personal papers. Fielding, who has been at the center for 11 years, began by showing Finnigan the Rudolph Daniel Sichel papers, an example of what a finished collection can look like once the personal papers have been digitized and preserved in archival boxes.

Four museum archivist stand around a table with open archival boxes that hold a WWII soldier hat and a camera.

(Top) Finnigan with Fielding, Dvorkin, and Schweitzer (center), reviewing Rudolph Daniel Sichel‘s military uniform and personal camera. (Bottom) The Sichel collection archival boxes and Sichel’s camera and camera case.

The Sichel papers, donated by Rudolph’s children, consist of seven boxes with documents dating from 1903 to 1978, many of which connect Sichel to Maryland. Sichel was a “Ritchie Boy,” one of thousands of Jewish refugees who immigrated to the U.S., enlisted in the army, and trained at the Military Intelligence Training Center at Camp Ritchie near Cascade, Maryland, a little over an hour north of UMBC. 

The additonal training gave Finnigan the techniques to work with non-digital items that require special care, like the folder Fielding tasked her with, full of primarily prewar family photographs related to the Kugelman family from Bedzin, Poland, dating between 1930 – 1942.

While putting these skills to use was exciting, the greater reward was seeing the impact of the team’s work. Finnigan’s interest in archival work is not only about preserving history but also making archives accessible to the public, which are two of the center’s priorities.

“There is no point in preserving all of this history if the public can’t access it. We want to preserve the history and make it easily accessible, whether through exhibitions, digital archives, or physical collections. Good archival work should essentially be invisible,” says Finnigan. This includes special handling and storage methods, like cold storage (35°F to 50°F) and cool storage (55°F to 65°F) to dramatically slow chemical decay, stop pest activity, and extend the lifespan of sensitive artifact and media collections.

“The collections at the Shapell Center are evidence of atrocities, of war crimes, of survival,” says Finnigan. “If the items are damaged, they can’t be replaced, and then that piece of history is lost.”

Learn more about internship opportunities at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum’s archives.

Nothing but beauty: Noor Zaidi leads an international interfaith team digitizing the history of one of the few shrines to a woman in Islam

The Sayyida Zainab shrine, near Damascus, Syria, is capped by a gold leaf dome atop a building wrapped in interlocking glazed tiles. The aquamarine, gold, amethyst, and brown tiles create geographic tapestries of swirls and intricate flower patterns. It’s a beautiful place of splendor inside and out, where thousands of Shi‘i Muslim pilgrims and visitors worldwide gather, pray, and honor the resting place of Zainab bint ‘Ali, Prophet Muhammad’s granddaughter. The shrine’s roofline is decorated with cobalt blue tiles that repeat the phrase, “Peace be upon you, oh mother of sorrows and hardships” in white Arabic calligraphy—a testament to the trials Zainab endured throughout her life.

When Noor Zaidi, assistant professor of history, visited the shrine on pilgrimage with her family more than 20 years ago, she was mesmerized. The shrine then inspired her graduate research, and now Zaidi is a scholar of the Middle East and South Asia specializing in the history of gender and sectarianism.

Her new book, Traces of Zainab: Ritual, Memory, and Place in Shi’a Islam, is a study of the woman who became a symbol of resistance for Shi‘i Muslims worldwide. Now Zaidi is leading an international interfaith team to preserve, restore, and digitize the shrine’s archives. With the support of Father Columba Stewart of the Hill Museum & Manuscript Library (HMML) in Minnesota, the Holy Spirit University of Kaslik in Lebanon, and the Mourtada family from Damascus, who have been the custodians of the shrine for over 800 years, the world will learn about one of the very few shrines to a woman in Islam and the community that has preserved it with love.

“We are delighted to return to Syria in support of this historic project,” says Stewart, executive director and CEO of HMML, at Saint John’s University—one of the world’s leading organizations funding the preservation and digitization of endangered archives to create open access collections. “Partnering with this historic shrine lies at the very heart of HMML’s mission to preserve and share the world’s handwritten past to inspire a deeper understanding of our present and future.”

Zaidi notes that this is not just about preserving. It’s about teaching students what it takes to be historians, stewards of a past with many missing parts, and to be aware that their work cannot happen in isolation. “There is a story to tell in the construction of this work that also tells us about the discipline of history, at this moment in time,” says Zaidi. “It’s a story of how to teach students to be conscientious scholars: to not just look at newspapers and documents but take into account what’s not being told, what history is being erased, and ask whose voices are not being heard.”

Q: Who is Zainab bint ‘Ali?

A: Zainab bint ‘Ali has meant many things to many people: woman, emblem, whisper in the past, shout in the street. Her presence, body, and words have been central to the construction of a distinct Shi‘i Islamic identity, yet large parts of her life were absent from view.  

At six, she witnessed her grandfather Muhammad’s death, the singular political and religious leader of the Muslim community. Her father, ‘Ali,  became the fourth successor to the Prophet Muhammad in 656 AD. His followers considered him the first Imam, God’s spiritual representative on earth. Before he was killed five years later, he passed on the leadership to his sons.

In Karbala, present-day Iraq, in 680 AD, Husayn ibn ‘Ali, Zainab’s brother, refused allegiance to Caliph Yazīd ibn Mu‘awiyah, viewing his rule as illegitimate. A battle ensued, and Husayn’s 72 male companions were killed along with his eight sons, nephews, and cousins. Husayn was beheaded. Zainab and the other women witnessed the massacre. After she was taken into captivity and paraded unveiled to Damascus, it is said that she delivered sermons recounting the events at Karbala. Zainab became a symbol of resistance—the few against the many.

For Shi‘i Muslims, the battle at Karbala became central to constructing their distinct identity, collective memory, theological frameworks, devotional practice, and traditions of mourning.

Q: In what ways have local and international communities contributed to keeping the shrine alive?  

A: The shrine is a transnational space with people, materials, and ideas moving in and out of it. In the 19th and 20th centuries, many Shi‘i shrines in Iran and Iraq began to take on a similar appearance, usually attributed to Iranian patronage. A lot of money was invested in maintaining these shrines. The mausoleum is surrounded by silver and gold grilles with Zainab’s grave beneath. They were replaced over the centuries through donations. One came from Pakistan in the 1950s, while others came from Iraq and Iran. The gold leaf, some of the tile colors, and the carpets have all come from different countries. However, the Mourtada family was very deliberate in the renovations, using local craftsmen and an Arab Damascene style of tilework to keep the local cultural heritage embedded in the shrine.

Top row: Inside Sayyida Zainab shrine. (Images courtesy of Zaidi) Bottom row: Local craftsmen renovating the shrine. Constructing the golden dome. (Images courtesy of Makam Sayyida Zainab)

Long before the politics of the present, the shrine was part of the shared sacred geography of Damascus. Its history is entwined with the devotion of countless people who have passed through it over centuries. Syrians of many different backgrounds—including Muslims, Christians, and Jews—have visited the shrine over the centuries. Queen Soraya Esfandiary-Bakhtiary of Iran gave funding to build an electrical system, and Sunni Muslim Muhammad Ali, the American professional boxer and activist, also visited the shrine and paid tribute. Their visits helped raise awareness and respect and brought support from outside the Shi’i community.

(l) Former Prime Minister of Pakistan, Benazir Bhutto, at the Sayyida Zainab shrine. (r) Boxer Muhammad Ali at the Shrine of Sayyida Zainab (Images courtesy Makam Sayyida Zainab)

While the shrine’s story can be told through violence, conflict, and upheaval, we chose to tell the story that often gets buried. When Zainab was asked what she thought of her dead brother, she said, “I see nothing but beauty.” We see nothing but beauty. This is the story the project chooses to tell.

Q: How did you gain access to the shrine’s archives?

A: When I first visited for research in 2012, there was almost nobody there. The shrine was under constant threat, and the atmosphere was one of uncertainty. During that visit, I met Hani Mohsen Mourtada, the head custodian, former Syrian Minister of Higher Education, and former president of the University of Damascus. I think he was genuinely surprised that someone was willing to come under those conditions. He gave me access to photographs, legal documents, and virtually everything the shrine held in its archives. We built a close relationship. I interviewed him several times as the project developed. I returned to Syria in 2019 and again in 2021, but he was in Beirut. Sadly, he passed away during the COVID-19 pandemic, and I never had the chance to see him again.

As I neared completion of my manuscript, I needed to revisit the archival materials and get legal permission to use them. After Hani Mohsen’s death, custodianship passed to his son, Sayed Mazen Al-Mourtada. I connected with him, and Mazen agreed to give me access. He explained that he had moved the oldest records to Beirut because he feared they might not survive the war. Although there was widespread looting and destruction when he moved the records, Mazen recovered much of what I needed. There are many major Shi‘i shrines around the world, but not all of them make their archives available in this way or welcome the same level of transparency. That made this project especially meaningful because Mozen was willing to do exactly that.

Manuscripts from the Sayyida Zainab shrine. (Images courtesy of Makam Sayyida Zainab)

For historians, the history we write is so often incomplete and shaped by these absences and losses. Rather than presenting itself as complete, the digital archive will clearly identify documents destroyed through conflict and explain how historical archives are often incomplete collections of surviving materials. Understanding this is crucial for students as they embark on research. 

Q: How does your personal journey help students understand the academic and personal skills required to be a historian?

A: History as a discipline is changing. We’re reading documents, translating them, and making meaning from them. Our research process is part of that history. While I was writing the book, my colleagues at UMBC told me that I should be in the story. I wasn’t used to that. The book is divided into three parts: Zainab’s shrine, the Bibi Pak Daman shrine in Lahore, Pakistan; and the al-Rashād prison for women in Iraq. In each section, I invite the reader to take a journey with me. I was so much a part of the process that while I was writing the book, I became part of the story. I learned that if I’m interviewing these women, they are not speaking to a wall—they were speaking to me. 

Being a historian is a labor of love. You don’t do things this long unless you care and find them interesting. I have been studying the Shrine of Sayyida Zainab for about 15 years. For much of that time, Syria was caught in civil war and proxy war. The shrine was regularly targeted by jihadist groups such as ISIS and al-Qaeda, and for more than a decade it was extraordinarily difficult to travel in and out of the country, and then the pandemic happened. Many times, I was told to reframe the book or to change the topic. I didn’t give up.

This archive is my way of contributing something meaningful to the people and place that shaped my research. Although I continue to worry about the shrine’s future, preserving these materials offers hope that, should anything happen to it, its history will not disappear. In that sense, preserving the shrine and its documents is about preserving a piece of our common humanity.

Learn more about UMBC’s history department.

UMBC’s student Fulbright recipients pursue community-driven research on a global stage

UMBC’s 2026 – 2027 recipients of the prestigious Fulbright U.S. Student Program are joining the ranks of UMBC’s distinguished Fulbright alumni, who have made UMBC a three-time Fulbright Top Producing Institution, a recognition from the U.S. Department of State’s Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs. 

More than 2,000 Fulbright U.S. Students—recent college graduates, graduate students, and early career professionals—pursue graduate study, conduct research, or teach English in schools abroad each year, earning placements in Africa, Asia and the Pacific, the Middle East, Latin America, and Europe. This year’s Fulbright Retrievers are launching the international phase of their research. From Baltimore to the Dominican Republic, India, and Mexico, these students are working with and for local communities to support local approaches to ongoing challenges.

The art of collaboration

During her senior year, Marelen Acevedo Soto ’26, visual arts, wowed Retrievers at UMBC’s 2025 Undergraduate Research and Creative Achievement Day with an experiential painting that combined projection, animation, and live performance. Now, she is packing up these skills and taking them to Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic, where she was born. Acevedo Soto earned her associate’s degree from Chavón School of Design. She is returning to work with the students to create a large-scale mural titled “Multidimensional Mural: Augmented Reality for Environmental Change” in Santo Domingo’s Zona Colonial (Colonial Zone), a UNESCO World Heritage site. Using QR codes, passersby will access animations and hear community voices describing how pollution affects daily life. The project will close with a Spanish and English multimedia performance combining projected animations, environmental data, and Dominican music.

Acevedo Soto (on the right) with artists from The Music and Me Foundation and at URCAD 2025. (Images courtesy of Acevedo)

“Many of my strongest ideas came from learning across different fields at UMBC,” says Acevedo Soto. “Music theory helped me think about rhythm and emotion. Storytelling taught me how to create meaningful experiences. Psychology helped me better understand how people think and engage with art. Environmental science deepened my understanding of water and the importance of its conservation, and data analysis gave me the tools to measure the impact of my project.”

Researchers’ responsibility

Vunnathi Ankem ’26, psychology, has had a passion for India for years, specifically how cultural exchange in India was shaped by hundreds of years of discourse, colonization, and history. While researching intimate partner violence (IPV) for her honors thesis, Vunnathi Ankem ’26, psychology, became interested in how South Asian students developed their understandings of IPV. Unexpectedly, most of the students she interviewed were from Telugu-speaking regions, such as Hyderabad in southern India. Intrigued, Ankem is now headed to the Psychology Center at the University of Hyderabad to continue her research. “Psychology, as we know it in the Western world, is only one approach to understanding the mind and the body,” says Ankem. “As psychology students, it is our responsibility to explore worlds and lenses beyond the Eurocentric ones.”

(l-r) Ankem at the 2026 Asian Cultural Celebration and Awards ceremony. Ankem with mentor Christopher Murphy, professor of psychology. (Images courtesy of Ankem)

She will study how systems, class, community, and culture shape experiences of IPV in India and inform more culturally responsive prevention strategies. Ankem will then develop community-based and community-led IPV prevention workshops. “The Fulbright program is giving me the opportunity I have always dreamed about,” says Ankem. “I can’t wait to learn from professionals and clinicians, alongside ancient culture practitioners and experts in India. It will be the experience of a lifetime!”

Humanistic climate futures

After studying climate change and migration on a study abroad trip to Oaxaca, Mexico, Bryan Castro-Velez ’26, geography and environmental studies, knew he was on the right research path—studying humanistic approaches to equitable agroecological systems and land in Indigenous Latin American communities. He says learning directly from indigenous leaders about their farming practices and response to climate change inspired him to apply for the Fulbright García-Robles award for graduate and doctoral research in Mexico. Castro-Velez’s graduate work will focus on agroecology, natural resource management, and rural development in Chiapas, Mexico.

A college Fulbright student with log wavy hair and glasses wearing a beige cardigan stands in front of a research poster
Bryan Castro-Velez at the 2025 Association of American Geographers annual conference in Detroit. (Image courtesy of Castro-Velez)

“I look forward to continuing down this path, encouraging others to do the same, and furthering my education outside the walls of academia,” says Castro-Velez. “My experiences during and outside of UMBC have proven to me that community-based learning systems are fundamental to just climate solutions and humanistic futures.”

As the U.S. Fulbright Program celebrates its 80th anniversary this year, UMBC’s Fulbright program is celebrating by expanding support through the Office of Prestigious Scholarships (OPS) under the leadership of April Householder ’95, director of OPS: “I am looking forward to building on UMBC’s strong legacy as a top producer of Fulbright students,” says Householder, “and expanding student support throughout the processes of exploring, applying, and transitioning abroad.” 

Learn more about UMBC’s international opportunities.

Music, murals, and manifestos: Bringing history to life in the classroom 

Anyone passing by Room 208 of the Sondheim Building this spring might have thought the class was a Latin American music appreciation course. Projected on the screen was a video of the Mexican band Los Ángeles Azules (“The Blue Angels”), featuring Natalia Lafourcade singing “Nunca Es Suficiente” (“It’s Never Enough”).

In Silvia Escanilla Huerta’s history classroom, music is not background noise but a historical text carrying centuries of migration, colonialism, resistance, and cultural exchange. “Nunca Es Suficiente” is a modern Mexican interpretation of Colombian cumbia, a 200-year-old genre of music created with African, Indigenous, and European acoustic instruments. Escanilla Huerta uses material culture—songs, videos, poems, documentaries, art, and student-created work—to awaken students’ senses and engage their interest in the complex history of Latin America.

Escanilla Huerta has found that using material culture helps students connect abstract historical ideas with concrete experiences, inviting students to think critically about how these practices evolved and impact the world today. She guides students as they analyze and compare primary and secondary sources from the past and the present to critique what is missing from historical records. Critical research analysis skills she honed while she was conducting archival research in Spain, Argentina, Bolivia, and Peru on the role indigenous peoples played in the process of independence in what today are Peru and Bolivia.   

“I try to entertain and make it fun, not just for them but for me too, because I’ve worked with this material for decades. I want it to come alive for them as it did for me,” says Escanilla Huerta, the first tenure-track faculty member and the first Latina in UMBC’s history department to teach Latin American history. “I dance, I speak in Spanish, and translate Spanish-language texts for the class. We watch videos, listen to music, and connect this media to specific points in history,” Escanilla explains while the students continue to listen to the song, “like today’s topic, the Guatemalan and Cuban revolutions in post-WWII Latin America.”

The art of revolution

As the song  “Nunca Es Suficiente” came to an end, Escanilla Huerta lowered the volume and projected “Gloriosa Victoria,” a painting by Mexican muralist Diego Rivera depicting the coup of 1954 as a segue into the Guatemalan revolution of 1944 to 1954 against Jorge Ubico’s dictatorship. The students scan the mural in anticipation of their next point of analysis. 

“What do you see?” asks Escanilla Huerta. Students describe the crowded painting filled with Guatemalan and U.S. politicians, military and business leaders, in a tense negotiation while a bishop blesses them. “On the top right-hand corner, I can’t tell whether it’s people at a window with bars or jail,” says one student. Escanilla Huerta confirms that it’s a jail and then draws their attention to specific elements like a man holding a bomb with the face of the U.S. President Eisenhower, surrounded by people who were murdered during the coup. 

To further contextualize what Rivera was reacting to, she explains the political tensions of the time. “The revolution succeeded, bringing an elected democratic government for 10 years,” said Escanilla Huerta. “Until opposition from other political parties and U.S.-based corporate interests led the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) to topple the government in 1954.” Back and forth, Escanilla Huerta and the students unpack the mural scene, connecting each scene to their readings and to today’s geopolitical wars.

She also urges students to think beyond identifying the iconic representations of abuses of power and to critique the artists themselves, their motives, and their lives. “The painting is a clear denunciation of corruption, but the artist himself has a complex history that, while he defends the people, he is also sexist and abusive. History is complex, and we need to consider all aspects.”

So you want a revolution

Shifting from fine art to pop art, Escanilla Huerta displays a poster of a man’s face wearing a black beret marked with a gold star and military fatigues, set against a vivid red backdrop. “Does anyone know who this is?” Some students nodded, but few knew the history behind the image. 

A college professor wearing a black and white stripped shirt and black pants stands in front of a classroom of students next to a projected black and white  image of Che Guevara on a red background wearing a black beret with a star
Escanilla Huerta discusses the life of Ché Guevara.

“Like many revered historical figures, Ernesto Guevara de la Serna, better known as Ché, is loved by people all over the world, but he is also controversial,” explains Escanilla Huerta. Nearly 60 years after his CIA-assisted execution, Guevara’s likeness remains one of the most recognizable symbols of Latin American revolution, reproduced on T-shirts, hats, and posters worldwide. 

Students look at their own t-shirts as Escanilla Huerta encourages the class to connect two points: How merchandising is used to make personal political statements and how popular culture can keep the memory of a movement or a person long after they’re gone through merchandising, literature, and music. “Ché was a Marxist revolutionary who believed armed revolution was the only path to liberation from oppressive local governments and U.S. interventionism,” she says, clicking through historic black-and-white photos of Ché in Cuba. 

“He developed his political ideology while he was a medical student during a motorcycle trip across Latin America where he witnessed the oppression of Indigenous and rural communities,” says Escanilla Huerta, emphasizing how college students can create change in a variety of ways while passing out copies of poems, songs, political cartoons, and a 1959 television interview, for students to read, compare, and discuss in groups.

Expanding on the idea of revolution, Escanilla Huerta introduces “Revolution” by the Beatles, released in 1968, 10 months after Ché was executed. “If you haven’t heard of the Beatles before, I’m very glad I’m the one introducing them to you,” she says, smiling and nodding to the beat. “I want you to listen to the lyrics, and then we can contrast Ché’s idea of revolution with the Beatles’ idea of revolution.” The song opens with the lines: You say you want a revolution / Well, you know / We all want to change the world. Hands quickly shoot up as students begin connecting Ché’s call for armed resistance with the Beatles’ more skeptical view of revolution and whether radical change truly transforms who holds power.

What are you willing to fight for

She ends the discussion by asking students to place themselves as active agents in history. “Now, what do you think it takes to become a revolutionary? What do you care about that you would like to change?” asks Escanilla Huerta as she passes out sheets featuring Guevara’s iconic red-and-black image. Faces lower, pencils race across the page, and within minutes, students tape their responses to the back wall for the class to see. Together, they move to the opposite side of the classroom to take in the full wall of ideas.

“Who wants to share what they want to change in the world? What is worth fighting for?” asks Escanilla Huerta. One student’s hand flies up: “I want independence for Wales,” they say, explaining how Wales is a country conquered by England that remains under British rule. Another wants an end to the war between Israel and Palestine and the corporations profiting from it. Others bring the discussion closer to home, raising concerns about transportation equity in Baltimore, where public transit remains inaccessible in many areas. Standing at the front of the classroom and looking at their collective wall of ideas, students begin to recognize that history is shaped by people who choose to follow ideals—for better or worse, depending on who is telling the story. 

We’re still here

“I don’t want the class to become a long list of injustices that have happened on Latin American soil,” says Escanilla Huerta, who was born and raised in Argentina. Just like she uses material culture of decades past, she also brings the present into the classroom to show that Latin American history doesn’t end with massacres—it’s so much more. “Despite all that pain, we have always carried joy, pride, and a fighting spirit. That’s why we also analyze examples of joy like Bad Bunny.”

The Puerto Rican singer-songwriter’s 2026 Super Bowl LX halftime performance was the kind of stadium-scale material culture Escanilla Huerta would love to bring into the classroom. Across the stadium floor were vivid representations of Puerto Rican history: workers in sugar cane fields, people trading gold, and the Puerto Rican independence flag flying high, connecting a painful colonial past with a joyful present through a lively house party scene celebrating Puerto Rican dance traditions, vendors selling local treats, and the flags of every Latin American country flanking both sides of the field.

While it may not be the Super Bowl, this spring in room 208 Sondheim, Escanilla Huerta similarly brought modern Latin American history and contemporary culture into the classroom to remind students, as Bad Bunny said in the final line of his Super Bowl performance, “Seguimos aquí!/We’re still here!”

Learn more about UMBC’s history department.

“Don’t be afraid”—Doctoral student Demetrie Garner ’23, public health, and M.P.P ’25, overcame decades of opioid abuse disorder to serve as an overdose response expert

When Demetrie Garner moved from Maryland’s Eastern Shore to Baltimore, he found a wealth of opportunities in Baltimore, a strong spiritual practice, and a supportive network of friends and family. They became necessary anchors for recovering from opioid dependency and managing the workload of a full-time job while earning a bachelor’s, a master’s, and now a doctorate in public health from UMBC. 

“My story has a lot of twists and turns. I came to Baltimore in 2018 for treatment for opioid use disorder after experiencing homelessness, incarceration, hospitalizations, and treatment programs. Recovery was a process of 26 years,” says Garner, who now works in the Baltimore City Mayor’s Office of Overdose Response. “When I came to Baltimore, I had a clean slate. I was able to go through an expungement process of criminal records, which was a list of misdemeanors that happened during my drug and alcohol addiction. My journey to UMBC began as an adult learner, at 40 years old, after a year in recovery.”

Understanding the bigger picture

A woman wearing a periwinkle jacket and skirt stands next to her son whose wearing graduation regalia with a crowd of people behind them with graduation balloons
Garner with his mom, Clara Turner.

The inspiration to pursue a bachelor’s degree came from working as a recovery specialist at Franklin Square Hospital in Baltimore County, where he supported patients who had overdosed or were experiencing substance use disorders, many of whom faced significant social and economic conditions that negatively affected their health. Although he connected patients to treatment and recovery resources, he questioned why so many returned to the emergency department with the same challenges. That curiosity sparked a desire to better understand the systems, policies, and social factors driving addiction and recovery. 

“I wanted to understand how healthcare is failing people in recovery,” says Garner. “I decided to go back to school. The logical step was to study public health.” Making the leap from working full-time and being a full-time student without a driver’s license posed many challenges. Thankfully, in addition to his faith, friends, and family, Garner also had a team of mentors at UMBC’s School of Public Policy that continue to support him to make his vision possible.

Garner immersed himself in public health research and learned about comorbidities, where patients are managing multiple health needs like substance dependency and mental health. He found that having multiple health needs with little to no healthcare is also exacerbated by homelessness, lack of transportation, inconsistent healthcare, or an environment not conducive to recovery. The emergency room could treat the symptoms but not the root causes. 

“My undergrad journey into public health was transformative because the curriculum I was learning for the core courses in public health also exposed me to psychology and epidemiology,” says Garner. “UMBC helped me understand what was needed for me to actually serve. If I wanted to be of service, then I needed to understand not just what leads people into substance use disorder but also what drives the research.”

No limits in sight

Each learning moment inspired great curiosity. Garner sought faculty for advice and opportunities. A game-changing moment came in a research methods course with Pamela R. Bennett, professor of public policy. Bennett encouraged Garner to think beyond what was stated in the research and analyze what was in between the lines.  

“I got a D in one discussion post, so I went to Dr. Bennett’s office hours. She told me to stop synthesizing information and to start thinking critically,” says Garner. “That was a game changer because I translated what she said to me into my work.”

“
UMBC offered me, someone with a lived experience of homelessness and substance use disorder, a door that I would normally not have access to. College is an opportunity to discover who you are and what matters to you. Don’t be afraid to engage with professors, challenge ideas, and use your voice.

Demetrie Garner ’23, public health, and M.P.P ’25

Another game-changing moment came in Lauren Hamilton Edwards‘ class. Hamilton Edwards, associate professor of public policy, told the class at the beginning of the semester that everyone had an A until they didn’t. Garner interpreted that as an incentive to do his best every day. “From the beginning, she gave me the kind of nurturing I needed,” says Garner. “Now, when I have an intern, I make sure that I’m the “Dr. Lauren Hamilton Edwards” to that intern, as she was with me.”

Additional supports like the McNair Scholars Program gave him the foundation and confidence to pursue graduate school, and his first experience presenting his research at UMBC’s Undergraduate Research and Creative Achievement Day was a humbling experience, he says. 

Demetrie Garner,  wearing a black dress shirt stands next to Baltimore City Mayor, Brandon Scott who is wearing a grey suit, there is a large mirror behind them
Garner with Baltimore City Mayor
Brandon Scott.

Garner is thriving thanks to the support of the faculty and staff in the public policy and sociology, anthropology, and public health departments, who recognized his potential.

“Associate Professor Andrea Kalfoglou called me Dr. Garner long before I believed it myself. My faculty advisor, Katie Birger, associate teaching professor, recognized my potential early on and encouraged me to pursue the B.A./M.A. pathway,” says Garner. “Now, with Professor Nancy Miller‘s mentorship, I am on track to finish my coursework by the end of the fall semester and begin my dissertation proposal in the spring of 2027.”

“Don’t be afraid”

As Garner’s expertise in public health and policy grew, so did his career opportunities. Today, he serves as the quality assurance manager for Baltimore City’s Behavioral Health Consent Decree. His work focuses on improving outcomes for people experiencing homelessness, substance use disorders, and behavioral health crises, giving him a unique perspective on how public safety and public health intersect to advance overdose prevention and crisis response.

“I no longer see those 26 years to recovery as a period of failure. They gave me lived experience that I now use to help others entering recovery,” says Garner, who, throughout that time, drew strength from the unwavering faith of his grandmother, Hazel Parker; his sister, Shontell Cooper, and his mother, Clara Turner, who never stopped believing change was possible. He hopes his story inspires others to begin their own path to healing. 

“UMBC offered me, someone with a lived experience of homelessness and substance use disorder, a door that I would normally not have access to,” says Garner. “College is an opportunity to discover who you are and what matters to you. Don’t be afraid to engage with professors, challenge ideas, and use your voice.”

Learn more about UMBC’s public health programs.

Who gets to tell the story? The tricky back story of how radio shows can promote empathy but also build up cultural divides 

In his new book, Empathy Machines: This American Life, Podcasting, and the Public Radio Structure of Feeling, Jason Loviglio, professor of media and communications, critiques and analyzes the making of and the impact of one of his favorite shows on National Public Radio (NPR), “This American Life”—a radio show turned podcast that received the 2021 Pulitzer Prize in Audio Reporting. “This American Life,” created and hosted by Baltimore-native Ira Glass, became a listener favorite for its magical way of weaving stories about everyday people into larger human issues, sounding more like a sympathetic, curious neighbor instead of a serious professor. The irony is not lost on Loviglio, who thanked his students in the book for reminding him that accessibility ensures that the public, his students, and their families, not only academic editors, understand the research. He wants this young audience to learn about radio and be inspired to research their own media and communications passions.

“The people I have had the honor of calling my students over the years have done more than anyone else to help me learn how to communicate ideas about communication and media clearly and simply,” writes Loviglio in his acknowledgements. “The MCS undergraduates are among the least pretentious and least entitled people I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. Too numerous to name here, I give a collective thanks to you for the lessons of clarity you’ve taught me and for the laughs.” 

Long before Loviglio became an author and the co-editor of Radio Journal: International Studies in Broadcast and Audio Media and of The Routledge Companion to Radio and Podcasting Studies, he was a young kid in love with “weird radio shows,” notes Loviglio. “I remember listening at night to my red transistor radio when I was little, maybe 9 or so. I put it under my pillow so my parents wouldn’t hear it,” says Loviglio. “I mostly listened to weird nationally-syndicated late night public radio shows, like Dr. Demento and local sports talk shows.”  

While he doesn’t expect students to fall in love with radio as he did, in his History of Media class, he wants students to understand the power and importance of radio long before stories were mobilized in the palms of our hands 24/7 worldwide. Loviglio encourages students to look beyond Google and instead find people whose lives were shaped by radio. 

He wants students to explore what radio meant in everyday life and how it conveyed and reflected emotions such as fear, danger, excitement, and joy—functioning as empathy machines that inspired deeper forms of storytelling and laid the groundwork for public radio and podcasts.

Q: What are empathy machines?

A: I think it’s safe to say that public radio has been explicitly understood as an empathy machine at least since the radio show “This American Life’s” debut in 1996. If we allow for synonyms of empathy, then radio has been understood this way for a lot longer. There’s a longer history regarding various media of communication as uniquely efficient machines for producing empathy. Most famously, of course, is the novel. And before that, oral storytelling. The idea of radio as an empathy machine stems from a specific history referred to as the technological sublime.

The notion that we can invent and communicate our way into equality is central to the way we understand Western history since at least the printing press. The book, particularly the novel, has been hailed for its powers to impart democracy and empathy. This history is opposed by an equally compelling one in which the machine represents the antithesis of democratic values of participation and empathy. A dominant theme in media history is the role of technology as an extension of human values, such that we no longer hear the metaphors in our arguments.

Q: Did you always know you were going to write about “This American Life” instead of general radio?

A: It wasn’t until a couple of years ago that I realized the best way to tell the story of public radio and podcasting was through NPR’s “This American Life.” It was first produced in 1996 by WBEZ, Chicago Public Radio, and then picked up nationally by Public Radio International. It became a massive show.

“This American Life” is also one of the first shows to start offering a podcast version, in case you missed an episode. Around 2014, “This American Life” started to shift, where more people were listening to it as a podcast. I wrote to Ira Glass last year, and he still calls it a radio show. That’s still his default understanding of it, even now.

Q: Did you have fun writing this?

A: Yes and no. I had fun thinking about it and fun listening to the shows. This is such a great way to tell stories. But it was hard to write because the shows kept changing. My thoughts kept changing. I began writing the book during President Obama’s administration, when I was thinking positively about American history. Then, Trump won.

I didn’t think that because President Obama was elected, it meant that everything was great and we had cured racism. I thought a particular version of liberalism had won. Definitely very capitalistic, definitely very interested in style, maybe more than substance, but there was a story everyone was telling about the country that was designed to make people feel very comfortable. Not only liberals, but also very privileged people, and not particularly political.

Trump winning the 2016 presidential election was a reminder that there is another story. I knew the other far-right story, but I thought that more people were happy for the positive symbolic victory that President Obama represented in terms of being biracial and being born to an immigrant father. This educated, cosmopolitan elite could also speak across different cultural registers. I thought that’s what I was writing about. Then the Trump administration began, and I felt I had to write about this darker story. That meant I had to think differently about the long, slow death of liberalism. There was something rotten in the creeping neoliberalism of the era that put some of us to sleep, left others out in the cold, and mobilized a politics of racial grievance on the right.

Q: What was the critique?

A: I’m not speaking for everyone, but people like me: privileged, educated, and progressive but kind of complacent. What did we do for the eight years of the Obama administration and the previous two or three decades of creeping neoliberalism? What were we listening to? Public radio. That’s what we were listening to. That’s the soundtrack of the frog and the pot. The pot slowly heats up, the frog is comfortable, and doesn’t realize it’s slowly boiling. I love public radio. I love “This American Life.” I love podcasting, but I also wanted to look critically at the story we were telling about empathy, who is telling the story, and who is the story about? 

Important exceptions long persisted at the margins of the public radio industry. “Latino USA” is the longest-running public radio Latino news and cultural program in the United States. It is unique in that it has people of color behind the microphone. It is designed by the people that it speaks to, but most of public radio is not that way. In contrast, “This American Life,” in a way, is the epitome of white liberalism. It’s really beautiful storytelling, but in the service of this kind of sound effect of liberalism and empathy, instead of something a little bit more gritty and radically engaged that maybe we should have been trying to tune into.

“
I use “This American Life,” as a bridge, because of the way that it really epitomizes…radio, as a place for sonic innovation, experimentation, the primacy of the local, the intimacy of the familiar, weakly voice…

Then what happens is it becomes a national phenomenon…turning into inside the beltway, political relevance, and increasing market share…driven by an increasingly robust audience research, which discovers…that the folks who listen to public radio are disproportionately…highly educated, higher earners, and that in order to sustain a system that relies on donations…the programming has to not only appeal to them, but the variation between programs has to be minimal…which is borrowed from commercial radio.

A headshot of a man with a greying beard and dark rimmed glasses wearing a grey collar shirt standing in front of a brick wall and some shrubs

Jason Loviglio

Professor of media and communication studies, on the "Cultural Studies" podcast. https://culturalstudies.podbean.com/e/jason-loviglio-on-radio-and-podcasts/

Q: Did the mindset about who gets to tell the radio story shift during or after the social justice protests of the summer of 2020?

A: Yes. That is when it all falls apart. The whole public radio storytelling format starts to collapse in the late 2010s because most of these shows are run by white producers and white on-air talent who are telling stories about others. All the contradictions just start to crash into each other, and a lot of the shows go off the air. There are all these awkward moments of reckoning. Shows changed. One week, the radio show “Invisibilia,” an NPR podcast about the unseen forces that shape human behavior, like ideas and beliefs, was being produced by all-white women from NPR, The New Yorker, and Slate magazine. Then, in part due to the collapse of the specific logic of empathy that animated the show, there is a switchover to new hosts—two women of color, who cheerfully embraced a more politically engaged set of feelings, like confrontation and discomfort. The show was canceled in 2023, suggesting that the format could not bear certain kinds of changes to its structure of feeling.

The same thing happened with “Reply All,” a popular podcast about the internet and digital culture, created and hosted by Alex Goldman and PJ Vogt, two white men from New York City. They had a massive implosion. Goldman and Vogt were called out for perpetuating plantation culture in the workplace, where leadership and decision-making are dominated by white executives or managers, right in the middle of doing an exposé on Bon Appétit, a high-end food culture magazine, for doing precisely the same thing. “Reply All” was calling out a white-run magazine, and the people who were doing a lot of the grunt work but not getting paid were people of color and young people, who spoke up about the hypocrisy. That show collapsed in a couple of weeks. 

It’s really a radical moment because radio shows and podcasts don’t get to tell the same stories without ever changing who gets to tell the stories. You don’t get to pretend you care, but not change. And so things really start to feel the strain by 2020.

Q: Are shows today more liberal or conservative as a result of the shift in 2020?

A: There are many shows today that center on conflict and unhappiness with the status quo—that Trumpism has gone too far. I try to write about how we are in a whiplash between this rhetoric of empathy and the rhetoric of Trumpism, this hostility to the idea of caring for others. I don’t know how many people took the political implications of empathy seriously, but rhetorically, it shaped a good deal of the public radio structure of feeling.

Q: Why did you thank your students in the book?

A: Students are reading less and less, and academics like me want to write clearly, and we usually don’t because we’re not thinking about 17-year-olds. We’re not thinking about the parents of 17-year-olds who might encounter our research in a faculty magazine or a newspaper. We’re thinking about the people who review academic journals or books.

One reason I thanked the students is that in the MCS methods class, students read articles written by MCS faculty. If they’re learning about history, they’re reading something I wrote or something Liz Patton, chair and associate professor of MCS, who writes about media history, identity, and space, wrote. If they’re reading about globalization and representation, they’ll read research byTracy Tinga, associate professor of MCS, who focuses on critical conversations about media, power, development, and digital cultures in African contexts, or research by Fan Yang, professor of MCS, who writes about the intersection of cultural studies, transnational media studies, globalization, postcolonialism/postsocialism, urban communication, and contemporary China. And now, they are reading work on social media and mental health, thanks to our newest colleague, Holly Avella. They’re also reading or viewing the work of Chung-Wei Huang, teaching assistant professor, Kristen Anchor, teaching associate professor, and Donald Snyder, teaching professor of MCS.

Students love reading faculty research, so I want to make sure what I’m writing is accessible to students. It’s a conversation starter when students connect personally with the research. 

Q: Do students in your classes listen to the radio?

A:  Some do. I think they do so a bit more after they’ve had a class with me. I want to make sure all my classes have opportunities for different kinds of creativity and engagement. In my History of Media class, I have students think about radio and pay attention to what is on the radio by having them interview a grandparent or someone older in their lives about their experiences with the radio. Students create small stories by conducting interviews and editing them into short radio diaries in a style similar to “This American Life.”

A lot of our students are immigrants or international students, and even more are children or grandchildren of immigrants. Radio remains especially important in much of the world, particularly in the Global South and in regions shaped by uneven development. This assignment helps students learn about their grandparents, and for some, it becomes the most meaningful conversation they have ever had with them. I’ve had students come back and tell me, “My grandfather died, and I have this recording of us talking for your assignment. It’s the only thing I have of him.” That’s why I really value this assignment. 

Q: Is listening to the radio really a thing of the past?

A: Video games and gaming culture are increasingly central to sound studies because so much of these experiences are built around audio design. Many major games are intentionally structured to sound like radio, as in Grand Theft Auto, which features more than a dozen in-game radio stations with full playlists. In this sense, radio continues to shape not only podcasting but also video games, providing a template for how soundscapes are constructed for audiences. Even though radio may seem obsolete or old-fashioned, it remains one of the dominant frameworks through which people understand and design contemporary sound culture.

Register to attend an interview with Loviglio on July 21, 2026, at the Ivy Bookshop in Baltimore City, hosted by Aaron Henkin, award-winning public radio producer and podcaster. Read more UMBC Humanities Books stories.

A global perspective on aging: Alfred Boakye’s gerontology journey from Ghana to Japan and the U.S.

Alfred Boakye first began thinking deeply about the care and well-being of elders and their families while caring for his centenarian grandmother, Margaret Nyarko, in his home city of Tema, on the Atlantic coast of South East Ghana. She was in charge of her essential self-care routine—bathing, dressing, eating, toileting, transferring from sitting to standing, and continence—and more complex daily tasks necessary for independent living: medication management, meal preparation, transportation, and shopping. But even with her mobility, his grandmother lacked a social network. 

Acting as both a devoted grandchild and a caretaker, Boakye experienced firsthand the complexities of aging. He learned to respect his grandmother’s independence while finding ways to support her where she needed help. Boakye, now a UMBC gerontology Ph.D. student in the social, cultural, and behavioral track, notes that his grandmother’s children didn’t live with her, and her grandchildren didn’t understand her aging process. As her friends and siblings passed away, her social circle shrank. “I asked her what motivated her to stay at church for hours, and she says the church supports her, brings her communion, visits her, and brings her Christmas gifts.”

After earning a bachelor’s degree in English and a master’s degree in human resources at the University of Ghana, Boakye wanted to broaden his understanding of aging and caregiving. In 2021, he moved to the United States to pursue a master’s degree in gerontology at Georgia State University (GSU), where he met his mentor and master’s thesis chair, Jennifer Craft Morgan, professor and director of the GSU Gerontology Institute.

A graduate student wearing graduation regalia stands together with a man in a suit and two faculty members wearing their graduation regalia in the midst of families celebrating graduation outside
Boakye at his GSU master’s graduation. (l-r): Antonius Skipper, assistant professor of gerontology at GSU and Boakye’s master’s thesis committee member; Reverend Kwaku Owusu-Boachie, Boakye’s uncle; Boakye; and Craft Morgan. (Image courtesy of Boakye)

In 2023, the year his grandmother passed away and the year he completed his master’s at GSU, Boakye published his first aging-related article, “Does the Church Care? Assessment of Social Support Strategies on the Health and Wellbeing of Older Adults within the Tema Metropolitan Assembly-Ghana” in the African Journal of Ageing Studies.

Craft Morgan fostered Boakye’s interest in gerontology and encouraged him to continue his work at the doctoral level, leading him to UMBC’s gerontology doctoral program, which is an interdisciplinary program in collaboration with the University of Baltimore. “Professor Craft Morgan has held my hand from the day I started my master’s program and continues to do so today,” says Boakye. “I always feel privileged that I have her in my corner.”

Stigma of male caregivers

Boakye’s studies are also informed by his experience being the primary caregiver to his father. Before moving to the U.S., Boakye did the grocery shopping, cooking, and laundry for Stephen, his 76‑year‑old father. He became aware of the multiple obligations children have when caretaking for themselves, their families, and their parents, as well as the isolation that can happen, especially if you are a male caregiver.

At the time, Boakye saw himself as being a “helpful child,” a term associated with a Ghanaian proverb that states, “If they take care of you to grow your teeth, you take care of them to lose theirs.” The proverb is more than words—it is a way of life in Ghana, which reinforced Boakye’s caregiving role and emphasized what it takes to be a helpful child—one built on responsibility and reciprocity. But it’s easier said than done. “I had to juggle my ‘identity’ as a male caregiver in a historically patriarchal society with my caring masculinity,” says Boakye. “Caregiving is predominantly perceived as ‘women’s work’ in Ghana, and men who take on these roles are often stigmatized and labeled ‘Kojo besia,’ which translates to ‘man woman’. To avoid such labeling, I was hesitant to ask for help, despite the toll caregiving took on my physical and psychological well‑being.” 

Alfred Boakye, a doctoral student, sits at the head of a boardroom table presenting gerontology research to other people seated at the table
Boakye presents his research on male caregiving to GSA leadership during their visit to UMBC in spring 2026. (Bradley Ziegler/UMBC) 

Boakye presented his research and personal experience to the leadership of the Gerontological Society of America (GSA) during their visit to UMBC this spring. Thanks to the UMB Provost’s Global Scholar Program, Boakye will be traveling to Ghana this summer to engage with male caregivers—to listen to their caregiving experiences, explore what these experiences mean to them, and co‑create resources to support them. He will use this research to finish his master’s thesis in applied sociology—Boakye’s third master’s degree.

Meeting Japan’s centenarians

In 2024, Boakye joined the Global Healthy Aging in Japan study abroad program, organized by Taka Yamashita, professor of sociology, anthropology, and public health and co-director of the gerontology doctoral program. The two-week program leads students through research, community centers, and historic sites in Kanagawa Prefecture, near Tokyo. Japan is known for its cutting-edge research and policy that supports the active lives of the world’s largest aging population and the highest number of centenarians. The students visited multigenerational living communities and centers that merge theoretical research with real-world practice and outcomes.

22 people including Alfred Boakye and other gerontology doctoral students, professors, and senior citizens stand together for a group picture. All of them are wearing blue, plastic foot booties.
Boakye (second row, fifth from the left) at a senior center in Kanagawa Prefecture, Japan. (Image courtesy of Taka Yamishita, professor of gerontology and sociology, second row, first on the right)

Boakye was not expecting that at a time when he was missing his grandmother the most, Kanagawa would make him feel like he was home in Tema. It wasn’t only that both Japan and Ghana operate on a similar collective familial care system focused on intergenerational living and inclusion, notes Boakye. It’s also the physical environment. “The buildings are close together, and people put chairs in front of their homes to talk,” says Boakye. “Older adults greet passersby, and people stop to have a conversation with them. They will tell you they are out for a little sun.”

A highlight of the trip for all the students was meeting a supercentenarian. The 110-year-old woman welcomed them and kissed each of them on the cheek. “All the students say that they were blessed to have this welcome and that she could still talk to us,” says Boakye. “It was really emotional for me. I just kept thinking of my grandmother.”

Boakye was also impressed by the Kanagawa ME-BYO approach to aging, which encourages monitoring vital signs using biomedical technologies. ME-BYO focuses on preventing and minimizing illness progression through programs that promote healthy behaviors such as a balanced diet, exercise, and social activities. “My experience in Japan has been one of the best things that has happened in my personal and academic life and in my career,” says Boakye, who wants to find a way to incorporate ME-BYO into his current and future caregiving research and practice. “This trip has equipped me with the cultural competence, literacy, sensitivity, communication, problem-solving, and critical thinking skills needed to have a real-world impact in the field of gerontology.”

Looking Ahead

With five years of longevity research, Boakye now understands that his grandmother’s experience is common for many older adults in Ghana. He discovered in the 2021 Population and Housing Census of Ghana that adults 65 years of age and older make up 4.3 percent of Ghana’s population. However, he explains, the need for person-centred and geriatric care services has not kept up with the demand.

“I feel like I am now clearly connecting the dots between my experiences in Ghana, what I saw in Japan, and what I have learned in class. I am passionate about encouraging more men to engage and support the people they love, but also seek help when they need it,” says Boakye. He plans to finish his doctoral program in fall 2027.

“It has been a pleasure to watch Alfred’s research grow during his time at UMBC,” says Nancy Kusmaul, professor at UMBC’s School of Social Work, his dissertation chair, who Boakye works with as a research assistant. “He is committed to raising the voices of paid and unpaid caregivers who provide vital services to older adults and people with disabilities in the US and abroad. I am confident that he will continue to make significant contributions to the field.”  

He knows there is a long road ahead, but he is confident that he is on the right path. “I want to build culturally relevant and gender‑sensitive resources that support male caregivers, not only to improve their health and well‑being but also to amplify their voices when it matters most.” His grandmother, Margaret, continues to inspire Boakye’s work on how caregiving shapes the experiences of both the carer and the care recipient. 

Learn more about UMBC’s gerontology doctoral program.