Thursday, October 20, 2016

LBCC Degree Debacle:After a 15 month wait, the last student left behind after the AAS Graphic Design degree termination of 2015 will finally complete degree in visual communications

Doug Hibbert at work in the design lab. Photo by Emily Goodykoontz


A Debacle in Retrospect:

Events of spring 2015 left LBCC’s graphic design students wondering if the school had their best interests at heart.

On April 15, the 22 students enrolled in the program were informed that the degree they’d worked towards for two years did not actually exist.

Yet in essence, it did exist. Courses were offered, students attended classes taught by graphic design instructors, and worked in a large building dedicated to the program. Their degree was listed in the 2014-15 catalog.

But the AAS in Graphic Design was supposed to be in a “teach out” period, only educating students who had entered the program before its suspension in 2013 after a round of heavy budget cuts. According to administration, the degree should not have been listed in the catalog and no new students should have entered the program after spring 2013.

“It’s really a product of failure of internal communications,” said Greg Hamann, president of LBCC. “So we had different parts of the institution thinking and doing different things in regards to the program.”

The news shocked staff and students. Students wondered for most of spring quarter whether they’d receive the degree to which they’d been dedicating their lives.

“I felt like my time, my money, was being completely wasted,” said design student Doug Hibbert.

Initially, design students nearing graduation were offered an alternative: an Associate of General

Studies, accompanied by a letter from the school assuring their education was primarily in graphic design.

“It matters that we get the degree we signed up for. Not only the degree, but the education,” said Hibbert.

Students were angry; they felt betrayed.

“I have a screenshot of Webrunner that shows my degree type as Graphic Design,” said Hibbert. “Four days later, all of a sudden Webrunner says I’m in General Studies; I have a screenshot of that as well. Now, I didn’t change that, so to me, it’s fraud.”

Hibbert was one of the three students told they could not receive the AAS of Graphic Design because they enrolled in 2014, after the 2013 teach out cutoff.

After delving into the matter, the Northwest Commission on Colleges and Universities allowed LBCC to offer an AAS of Visual Communications/Graphic Design for all of the students enrolled.

“This thing hasn’t ended for us,” said Dave Becker, dean of applied business and technology. “It’ll never really end until we take care of every student that was in that program.”

Hibbert will be the last student of his class to complete the visual communication degree this fall, after more than a year waiting.

Doug Hibbert’s Degree Nightmare:

Hibbert is a photographer who worked for Pepsi as a local merchandiser. A family man, he lived only four miles from Chemeketa Community College in Salem and was making a decent living wage when he decided to take a plunge and go back to school. Hibbert wanted to add graphic design to his repertoire, expecting the education to propel him deeper into the photography and design business.

Kam McCallister, another Salem photographer, Pepsi employee, and a friend of Hibbert’s decided to attend college at the same time for the same program: Graphic Design.

McCallister chose Chemeketa Community College because it was close to home, but Hibbert decided to make the drive to Albany every day for two years because LBCC’s program was supposedly superior.

“I left Pepsi at the same time that Doug did. We went to school the same amount of time for the same degree. I struggled, I was broke, it was one of the hardest things I’ve done, and to go through that and not get a degree… I can’t imagine what I’d do,” said McCallister.

McCallister warned Hibbert in March of 2014 that LBCC’s graphic design program had been shut down after learning this from a Chemeketa faculty member, according to McCallister.

“I talked to Lewis [Franklin] four or five times about it, and in February [2015] I asked him again because I was unhappy about how the classes were going,” said Hibbert.

According to Hibbert, Lewis Franklin, the head instructor for the program reassured him there were no problems.

Franklin and other faculty had been making improvements to the program and were unaware of its total termination.

Despite this assurance, Hibbert spoke with Chemeketa faculty about transferring to their program, but discovered that most of his credits would not transfer. He would need to start over from scratch, and chose to stick with LBCC’s program.

Other students noticed something was amiss.

“Once we were about done with the first year, we were told that the third-year program was not available, and we would be getting an AAS degree which was designed to make us ‘job ready.’ Then, the mess began,” said Cheri Shones, one of the affected students.

Shones expected to earn an Advanced Certificate in Graphic Design on top of the two-year degree. Many changes had been made to the program, and the advanced certificate program was terminated in 2013 with the AAS.

It had been a bumpy ride, culminating in the disastrous news of program termination.

“It wasn’t picked up until spring term that there was a problem,” said Franklin. “They were just starting into their spring term and their last term here at school, and when they got that news it was like somebody dropped an atom bomb on us.”

After administration sought resolution and were notified they could give Hibbert a visual communications degree, Hibbert walked with his class in the June 2015 graduation ceremony.

He still had 8 credits to finish in the fall, but when fall quarter arrived, his financial aid fell through.

“Two days before my first day of class I’m told by financial aid that they won’t cover two of the three classes I was going to take because they weren’t required by my degree,” said Hibbert.

His degree may have still been listed as general studies, but these three classes were necessary for a visual communications degree.

Hibbert immediately went to Becker’s office, left notes and spoke with his secretary but received no communication. They were unable to resolve the issue in time for him to continue without paying out of pocket, and he dropped his classes.

This forced Hibbert to wait until fall 2016 to attend, because one of the classes is only offered during the fall quarter.

“I was not aware that he could not receive financial aid,” said Becker.

Becker had been vocal with students about offering help navigating the mess the school had caused.

Somehow, Hibbert’s call for help got lost in the chaos.

“Things do unfortunately sometimes fall through the cracks, but I know that we want to make it right for this student,” said Hamann. “You know, it does feel like red tape, because so much of this relates to external entities and financial aid gets weird, but it’s still our job to solve this.”

The financial aid mess has been sorted, and Hibbert is receiving grants through LBCC.

“We always had a pathway forward,” said Becker. “The talent grants were there to take care of whenever he wanted to complete his degree.”

Deans are allotted three full terms worth of grants to award the appropriate students, based on need or excellence.

“Eight credits to go; I would never want to see a student not complete because there was no financial aid, and nobody at the college would want to see that,” said Becker.

Aside from a loss in trust, Hibbert and the other students face a variety of consequences.

“It has put me in debt rather than help me build a better life for me and my children. They robbed me of success. It was a slap in the face. I don’t want my children growing up thinking going to college is just a ‘waste of time,’” said Shones.

Hibbert filed bankruptcy in January. He believes the year spent living on credit and grants and the past year without a job due to his lack of credentials caused most of the damage.

“None of the other students I’ve graduated with have been able to get even entry-level positions with the degree,” said Hibbert.

He is now struggling to pay his student loans, but doesn’t think he should have to. According to the Education Act of 1965, colleges are obligated to repay student financial aid when a program’s misrepresentation of accreditation and federal funds are involved.

“Any student who had the graphic design major and received federal financial aid, they will have no obligation to pay that,” said Dale Stowell, executive director of institutional advancement in an article printed in edition 27, volume 46 of the Commuter.

Hibbert’s loans have been deferred until February, but they’re still gaining interest, and though he will receive a degree, it is not exactly the same as the one in which he enrolled.

“I’ll feel bad about this, regardless of even if it works out,” said Becker. “There was a lot of anxiety over that time frame and anxiety for the students, and I really regret that. But at the end of the day words don’t matter a whole lot; it’s what we do from here, you know, the action taken.”

Becker says his door is open to any student from the program who needs help finding job placement and opportunities.

Note: There will be a follow-up in next week’s edition on what really went wrong and where the Graphic Design program goes from here.

Hibbity Dibbity: San Fran band brings their killer funky tunes to Corvallis

Photo by Emily Goodykoontz & Nick Lawrence





Ever heard of swamp-funk? Sounds kinda like a weird foot fungus, right?

Wrong.

It’s not, and it’s awesome.

Swamp-funk is a spin on swamp-rock, a style drawing from the ‘60s and ‘70s sounds of Memphis, Tenn. and Muscle Shoals, Ala. It combines soulful vocals with the silver slides of country, the grit of blues with the danceable edge of a funk beat.

Hibbity Dibbity, a swamp-funk band hailing from San Francisco, just blew the lid off at Bombs Away Cafe on Saturday, Oct. 8.

That’s right; y’all missed it.

Their music can only be described as clever, ecstatic, and riotous. Timeless, but kinda dirty. Pelting rhythms that make your feet move. Super tight; then loose in all the right places. I was grinning from the moment they started playing.

They were, too.

“Fucking fantastic,” said Dallas Renick, former LB student and current server at Bombs Away Cafe. “Very underrated for the turnout; they should be seen by way more people.”

The band played a high-energy set that lasted for over two hours, convincing an initially sluggish crowd to move as more folks percolated through the doors.

“I just love playing music with my best friends. It’s what I do,” said Parker Simon, Hibbity Dibbity’s bass player. “It doesn’t matter if one person shows up or 500.”

This band’s good energy was key; their joy spilled right over the stage and into the crowd. By the end of the set, the small space in front of the stage was packed with dancers.

“I thought they were great; there was not a weak link in the band,” said Steve Hunter, the sound manager who also books the bands for Bombs Away.

Hunter spent the last six years working at the cafe. For two and a half, he’s located unique bands from around the country to grace the cafe’s stage. Although the stage is little more than a four-inch high platform in a small corner of the cafe, they make it work.

This kind of venue offers a rare opportunity for bands and crowds. The constraints of a small space create an intimate setting that begs for interaction, making it easy to connect and send the energy spinning upwards.

The turnout for this band wasn’t what Hunter had hoped for, but it didn’t seem to matter to the band or the audience.

“It’s not what I would have expected at the beginning of the term. It’s been a slow couple weeks,” said Hunter.

Hunter hopes to expose the Corvallis crowd to new bands, but the best way to do that is to bring in the local with the out of town.

“Usually with out of town bands I try to pair them with a local band,” said Hunter.

Even without a local draw, Hibbity Dibbity pulled their own that night. By the end of the raucous evening, drummer John Jack’s symbol hung broken and swaying, pieces littered beneath and gleaming.


Mo'reen: Hibbity Dibbity's transport. Photo by Emily Goodykoontz

The four members have played together for three and a half years. Their setup includes two electric guitarists, one of whom doubles on keys, an electric bass, and drums. The entire band pitches in on vocals, giving the music breadth and punctuation, their vocal harmonies exactly on point.

A group of transplants from around the U.S., Hibbity Dibbity met in college at the University of San Francisco.

Then, like a perfect storm or some dreamy love story, they discovered they were musically right for each other, and all in the right place at the right time.

“Everything fell into place,” said Tommy “Fuego” Relling, whose fingers dripped guitar licks all night.

Within their first year of playing, the band flew to Chicago to play shows. They also found success in New York, playing sold-out shows.

“It just took off right away,” said Simon.

They were neither incredulous or smug with their success; just honestly happy to be doing what they do.

“It’s fulfilling something,” said Simon.

While on tour the band travels and practices in their yellow steed, a shortbus they’ve dubbed Mo’reen. They even serenaded her in concert, striking up the Paul Revere and the Raiders cover she’s named after.

Most of their music is original, however. It’s soaked in the shadow of bygone days, days of blues, roots music, and rock ‘n’ roll.

“It’s a pretty broad range that comes together in the ‘60s and ‘70s,” said Relling.

The band will finish their tour of Oregon this week, but they’ve promised to come back.

“The main goal is getting the music to the people,” said Simon.

So, even though you missed this particular chance to catch the act, keep your eye out for another opportunity to experience Hibbity Dibbity. 

From left to right: Tommy Relling, Parker Simon, Chris Deyo Braun, John Jack.
Photo by Emily Goodykoontz


At a Glance:

Tommy “Fuego” Relling- guitar, vocals

Chris Deyo Braun- guitar, vocals, keys

Parker Simon- bass, vocals

John Jack- drums, vocals

Albums: 2014 self-titled release, “Hibbity Dibbity,” and 2015 release, “Tinctures, Potions and Elixirs”

Website: hibbitydibbity.net

Available on Spotify



Facebook: @hibbitydibbitysf


The Clearest Path: Pathways Program means a big change for future students at LBCC

October 12, 2016


Linn-Benton Community College has just an 18 percent student completion rate. Though many students transfer, that only brings the completion rate up to 33.5 percent, according to CollegeMeasures.org.

In September 2015, LBCC was chosen as one of 30 community colleges nationwide to participate in the Pathways Program, funded by a $5.2 million grant from The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation.

“In technology we talk about things being intuitive. Well, we'd like to have educational pathways be intuitive too,” said Greg Hamann, president of LBCC.

Guided Pathways, as it is commonly known, is an institutional restructuring aimed to increase student success and completion. It begins with their ultimate educational goals and works backwards from there, clarifying a student’s trajectory and setting them on a focused path towards the workforce or further education, all while actively monitoring and advising them throughout the process.

This program has not been fully fleshed out, but several colleges have implemented it with initial success, according to the American Association of Community Colleges (AACC).

“It takes three years to implement and probably takes a lot more than that to actually get it fully running but we're committed to having Guided Pathways fully implemented by fall of 2018,” said Hamann. “We're working like crazy to do that; that's a lot of work and it's great work.”

Out of 200 community colleges that applied, LBCC is one of 30 and the only college in Oregon selected.

“It was a competitive selection process, quite rigorous,” said Ann Buchele, vice president of academic affairs and workforce development at LBCC.

Buchele has spearheaded both the application and implementation process for the Pathways Program at LBCC.

“It isn't just an overlay, it's actually about changing the way in which we design programs for students,” said Hamann.

Each college develops advisor programs and degree pathways to fit the specific needs of their campus.

“It’s not a one size fits all necessarily,” said Buchele.

These tailored program pathways will simplify scheduling classes not just for students, but also for faculty and staff.

“Our goal is by June 2017, every program has a map so students know what to take each term from beginning to end,” said Buchele.

New students unsure of their path would choose from “meta-interest areas” that will help guide them in the right direction even if they aren’t exactly sure where they are going just yet.

Department Chair for New Program Development and Short Term Training Stacy Mallory has worked in health care education for 15 years and seen the benefits of “prescriptive” type education programs firsthand.

“When I look at Guided Pathways, I see it as an extension of something that we know works really, really well, and has been very successful in the health care programs for all of these years,” said Mallory. “Now we are kind of ramping it up and making it a more global, community-college-strategic initiative.”

According to Mallory, most health care programs have a completion rate between 80 and 90 percent, far above LBCC’s college-wide 18 percent average.

“I think what Guided Pathways really does is it allows students to know what the focused path is, and they can make choices along the way if they want to deviate, but they’ll also understand if they deviate what the consequence is, whether it’s more cost or more time,” said Mallory.

But not everyone on campus agrees on what the best options are for students. The classic liberal arts education involves a well-rounded study in many fields, and some insist these kind of options are key to a good education.

The AACC describes this type of education as “cafeteria colleges,” institutions with a multitude of educational options available to increase higher education access.

“At cafeteria colleges, the best pathways that students can take into and through programs of study and to their career or further-education end goals are not clear. There are too many choices, programs lack educational coherence, and students’ progress is not monitored,” AACC wrote on its website.

LBCC’s conversations about the Pathways Program have brought many questions to the surface: Should general education be an exploratory, smorgasbord of options for students? Or should it provide breadth and depth to a program that will lead to a specific job or skillset?

“They’re tricky conversations,” said Mallory.

The staff of LBCC posses a variety of different opinions about what general education is, and they are discussing how to move forward with the program without losing the integrity of a broad education.

Regardless, the campus community is having these conversations, and many are involved. As LBCC establishes the program, Buchele and Mallory welcome feedback and interest from faculty and students.

“I still believe you have to find your passion,” said Mallory. “That one class, that one teacher, that one whatever it is; that still has to occur.”

One lost, one gained: Resignation leaves open vice presidency in LBCC Student Leadership Council

September 2016


LBCC’s Student Leadership Council recently lost elected member John Maine after an early resignation from his vice presidency.

“This was a difficult decision, but, due to reasons out of my control, it was what I had to do,” said Maine.
John Maine

He was elected in February to serve as VP during the 2016-17 school year, following in the footsteps of previous VP Eric Slyter.
“My perspective has not changed on filling obligations that you have committed to, but there are circumstances that change and individual’s priorities and you must accept the decision you have to make,” said Maine.

His resignation comes swiftly after a tumultuous 2015-16 school year for the SLC, when student leadership faced the resignations of both elected presidential positions early in the year.

Maine did not specify the reasons for his departure from the SLC despite this earlier statement at the Feb. 12 election debate with opponent Jason Shirley.

“We need to have a strong Student Leadership Council that can pick up and fix this, and not have it happen again, or have a plan if something drastic does happen,” said Maine, referring to the double-resignation of SLC leaders.

In 2015, the SLC’s currently elected president Slyter stepped into the position of vice president as former Vice President Candalynn Johnson took the presidency after the resignation of President Paola Gonzalez.

Johnson had previously taken the vice presidency just one month prior after the resignation of the elected vice president.

"They [student leaders] really stepped in and we ended the year on I think a high note, " said Greg Hamann, president of LBCC. “Eric’s [Slyter] going to be great as president, he’s a bright and dedicated man.”

Despite another early resignation, Slyter remains confident in the SLC’s effectiveness and ability to lead the student body of LBCC.

"I feel really positive about the leadership team and I don't think we're going to see the same sort of instability this year that we did last year," said Hamann.

After Maine’s resignation, Slyter alerted other student leaders to the open VP position. According to the SLC bylaws, a nominated student leader can take the vice presidency by a two-thirds vote.

According to Slyter, the most likely nominee is Kevin Yusif Peña Aceves, an international student ambassador from Mexico and an event planner for the SLC. One other student showed interest but is unable to move forward in pursuit of the position.
“I really do believe that Kevin [Aceves] is our best option,” said Slyter.

Aceves intends to create more inclusivity for international students within the student leadership and the campus community.

“Just opening the doors for more international students, have them feel like they are a part of the school. Sometimes I feel like the international students get segregated,” said Aceves.

Beginning as an undocumented immigrant in the U.S., Aceves journeyed for his own education, seeking opportunity elsewhere. He returned to Mexico, where Aceves says he gained experienced working in Jalisco, Mexico as a photographer and second assistant to the governor. He is currently working on an associate degree in business administration at LBCC and intends to continue with his education.

“This has been my dream ever since I graduated high school now that I have an opportunity to actually do what I want to do,” said Aceves. “I want to get everything out of it, the full college experience, being part of leadership and giving back to the student body as much as I possibly can.”


According to Slyter, Aceves is an avid student leader.


“We’ve really laid the groundwork for him to do well in the VP position,” said Slyter.
Check the October editions of The Commuter for Aceves’ full story and the results of the final nomination for vice president of the SLC.

Financial aid: Until debt do we part

Utter dependence among generations of students




If you are a college student, much like me, you are likely waiting for that financial aid reimbursement to hit your bank account.

Any. Minute. Now.

During this first week of classes, we scurry to the bookstore and wait in long lines (take-freaking-forever-lines, I wish I had a ray gun to delete all the people in front of me sorts of lines) and water down our foggy brains with cups of caffeine and savor snacks requisitioned with our dwindling student aid ledgers at the bookstore.

The bookstore provides delicious, healthy snacks for breakfast such as beef jerky, cups of noodles, milkshakes and potato chips. It’s the last resort food we eat instead of a real breakfast, because we’re all out of cereal, and eggs for that matter, and there’s just jingling change bouncing and laughing at us from the bottoms of our echoing bank accounts.

Maybe you’re not like me, however, and you worked your ass off all summer to save yourself from this broke-ass mess. More power to you.

Either way, we all spend inordinate amounts of our financial aid funds on textbooks, and not just textbooks. Freaking CODES to grant you invisible access to materials you cannot even flip through in your hands. Yes, $100 dollars for temporary access, thank you.

What?

This is besides the point… only, it isn’t. We are all utterly dependent on our student aid for survival. Basic survival. Textbooks, tuition, and survival. And most of the time, it isn’t enough.

“The hard truth is that while financial aid reduces the ever-increasing cost of college, more often than not it still leaves families with unmanageable prices,” wrote Sara Goldrick-Rab in her book “Paying the Price: College Costs, FInancial Aid, and the Betrayal of the American Dream.”

Everybody knows the adage of the overworked college student. Or the overworked student-parents, absolute superheroes. Many work full time, or work more than two jobs while trying to stay successful in classes. Some find it exhausting or financially impossible, and drop out of college altogether.

Federal Pell Grants can take the edge off, but not by much.

“When the Pell program began, it was intended to shield recipients from having to take loans. Today, nine out of 10 Pell recipients graduates with debt. Of the Pell recipients who attend public colleges and universities - fully two-thirds of all Pell recipients- just 48 percent who start college full-time complete a degree or certificate of any kind within 6 years. Of the remaining 52 percent, one in three leaves with a double-burden: no credential and an average of $9000 in student debt,” wrote Goldrick-Rab.

Our relationship with student aid is simple. We need it. We are receiving it, and it is never enough. Our lives revolve around the quarterly deposits like ocean tides; the cash flows in and right back out.

Our debt tolls creep higher.

For some of us, the heights are astonishing. Try exceeding $50,000 for a four-year degree. That’ll be me.

I can accept that when the federal government makes changes that directly affect the financial aid of students across the nation they do so in an attempt to make the process easier.

Everyone knows there’s a problem.

But there will never be anything easy about signing our futures into debt in exchange for an accredited education, just for proof that you went through the rigamarole.

The Department of Education made two big changes to the financial aid process in July. Brash changes can have unwanted effects, like basing financial aid eligibility on out-of-date, inaccurate financial information.

And that’s just what the new prior-prior year arrangements for the Free Application for Federal Student Aid (FAFSA) will precedent.

In the past, expected family contribution (EFC) has been based on the income a student or their family received the previous year.

Now, students and their families can expect to provide information that is two years old, and for a second time.

For the upcoming 2017-18 FAFSA application, students will use the same tax data they used on their last one, the data that this year’s aid package was based from.

Any independent students previously working full-time must count on saved-up funds to supplement their education. When the time comes to apply for financial aid, a student’s previous income is counted towards their EFC, although they are likely working less.

With this prior-prior year transition, some students may lose grant eligibility they would have received through the previous system. For situations like this, financial aid officers at LBCC will sometimes consider a “professional judgement” on a case-by-case basis, reevaluating a student’s actual need.

“We don’t do a professional judgement if you voluntarily quit your job, because if you quit your job, you’re supposed to have some money saved up to go to school,” said Elaine Robinson LBCC financial aid director.

But returning students relying on on their 2015 tax return again for the 2017-18 year may not have planned to save enough money to supplement two years of college.

For example, a person who works full time as a landscaper during the summer won’t be able to keep their 7 a.m. to 5 p.m. five-day-a-week schedule during the school year and attend full-time.

They would have to cut back hours just to attend classes.

“If in 2015 you work full-time, in 2016-17 you didn’t, so when you do your 2018-19 FAFSA it’s going to catch up,” said Robinson.

That just leaves us one year to cut our losses, I guess.

The people at LBCC’s financial aid office want to help students the best way they know how and the only way they can; with the tools, rules, and funding passed down to them from the Federal Department of Education.

But they can only do so much.

These federally mandated changes to the FAFSA system will only pour salt in our wounds this year. The DOE is trying to fix something inherently broken without examining the real causes. It’s suturing flesh wounds and ignoring broken bones.

Students begin college overwhelmed. The financial aid process becomes a blur. Dependent and independent students both become lost, wandering deep into foggy fields of debt. Our grants and loans become our partners to get us through this system.
It’s our trap. Our helpful downfall. Our promissory notes were our vows, and we married our debt.

Financial aid: for better or for worse

New FAFSA regulations implicate possible student repayments, creating a sticky transition for LBCC’s Financial Aid Office.





The Department of Education (DOE) announced major changes to its financial aid application process in an attempt to simplify what can be a frustrating and confusing endeavor for students and their families.

Students can now submit their Free Application for Federal Student Aid (FAFSA) on Oct. 1, a full three months earlier than the previous Jan. 1 submission date.

This restructuring moves to prior-prior year awarding; calculating student aid and expected family contribution (EFC) using family income tax documents from two years previous. Students applying for aid in the 2017-18 year will use a 2015 tax return, the same tax return many students used to apply for this year’s aid.

“The intention behind prior-prior year is that it will be easier for students and parents to fill out the FAFSA because they will be able to use the IRS data retrieval,” said Elaine Robinson, LBCC financial aid director.

The accuracy provided by the IRS data retrieval tool should significantly lower the amount of students selected for verification.

Students who provided income estimates instead of IRS data on the FAFSA are selected at random by the Department of Education for an income verification process. This can be a difficult barrier for students trying to access financial aid funds.

“Thirty-two percent of our students are selected for verification by the Department of Education, that was for the 16-17 year,” said Robinson.

Depending on the institution, the new date could even allow opportunity for earlier admission decisions to colleges.

“People are going to have longer to turn in their tracking documentation, which is good,” said Robinson.

But this one-time double-dipping of the 2015 tax return has raised questions among college students, financial aid staff and college administrators nationwide.

Will this help, or will this hinder? Has navigating the financial aid system for the 2017-18 year just turned into a nightmare for staff and students?

While this tricky transition may mark the beginning of a smoother future process, here’s the caveat:

It could also mean financial aid paybacks by students who slipped the notice of income verification for the 2016-17 year.

“Financial aid officers have said this is crazy,” said Bruce Clemetsen. “We understand why you're [the Department of Education] doing it, but at some point, we've gone through checks and balances. And if there's a mistake, it shouldn't be their mistake, it's our mistake, we should have caught it a year ago.”

The DOE will flag applications of students who did not use the IRS data retrieval tool for the 2016-17 school year and did use it for the 2017-18 FAFSA application, but only if the reported income has changed drastically.

“The Department of Education is going to give us guidance on that,” said Robinson. “If you did a 2015 and you weren’t selected for verification, versus doing a 2015 and you are selected for verification, that is a conflict.”

Students who weren’t flagged the first time could end up owing grant money. However, if they do the FAFSA on Oct 1, it will allow the Financial Aid Office time to make adjustments for the coming winter and spring terms, relieving the need for the student to pay out of pocket.

The prior-prior year awarding will balance out in 2018-19, when FAFSA applications will be based off of 2016’s tax documents. For now, LBCC’s financial aid office is running two years at once.

“All financial aid offices are struggling with setup right now,” said Robinson.

Those involved with the financial aid disbursement are scrambling in an attempt to update processes and paperwork with unclear, muddled guidelines from the federal government.

Robinson says they will have to wait until the annual Federal Student Aid Conference in December to receive any clear answers.

LBCC will also not receive guidance on Pell Grant disbursement until January or February, so students should not expect their financial aid package information until the usual time in March or April.

“We're opening the FAFSA faster, but we're not getting the information to make awards on any accelerated basis,” said Bruce Clemetsen, vice president of student affairs at LBCC.

The transition may be difficult, but processes are in place to solve any arising issues in LBCC’s Financial Aid Office. Robinson believes LBCC will not see many payback situations.

“I cannot impress upon students enough to please read their Webrunner and be aware of our priority deadline dates,” said Robinson.

A student staying on top of their paperwork and remaining alert through the entire financial aid process is the best way to avoid any frustrating situations, according to Robinson. Turn in the 2017-18 FAFSA as early as possible to avoid a payback situation.

“What we want to make possible is the greatest access that students can have to whatever financial resources are out there. We will have to see how this impacts it,” said Greg Hamann, president of LBCC.

Blaze in North Corvallis: “Almost Homeless Handyman” Victor Hettinger’s RV home destroyed in July 22 fire

July 22, 2016


The “Almost Homeless Handyman” Victor Hettinger is homeless once again after a fire consumed his RV.


Victor Hettinger and his dog Sasha outside the wreckage of their home.
Photo by Emily Goodykoontz



On July 22, around 5:40 p.m. the fire was reported by a person on the scene, according to Corvallis Police Sgt. Ryan Eaton. The caller said Hettinger had been working on his RV and attempting to start it when the blaze sparked.

Hettinger was parked in a lot behind Wilco in North Corvallis, adjacent to the train tracks off of Northeast Four Acre Place. According to Hettinger, he must relocate his RV every two days to remain lawfully parked.

“I was trying to leave and it backfired,” said Hettinger. “I wasted two fire extinguishers and I realized it was an oil fire I couldn’t stop.”

The Corvallis Fire Department’s Engine 133 was the first of two trucks on the scene. After confirming no one was inside, they quelled the motorhome fire with foam retardant.

But a warm wind was coming from the north and the fire had quickly spread to the surrounding field.

“The concern was the brush along the railroad tracks,” said Battalion Chief Dan Wehrman.

As soon as Engine 131 arrived on the scene, its crew connected the hose to the fire hydrant and blasted the grass fire and surrounding brush with water, first containing the spread and extinguishing the fire.

Just across Northeast Four Acre Place from the edge of the burnt field is the Home Depot garden area. Wehrman was pleased the blaze did not spread any further.

Though the sudden fire did not cause extensive damage to the surrounding area, Hettinger suffered great loss.

He first rescued his dog, Sasha, from inside the vehicle, but was unable to grab his most important items. Hettinger’s cell phone, wallet, money and most other belongings were destroyed.

Hettinger is an unusual sort of handyman, and takes odd jobs around Corvallis. He’s a Corvallis character who can often be seen parked around the town with a sign reading “Almost Homeless Handyman for Hire.”

Over the last eight years Hettinger improved his circumstances from homelessness, starting with a bicycle and working his way up to an RV.

“I put $2,000 into that RV in the last year,” said Hettinger. “It was almost set to live off the grid.”

He’d installed solar panels and a solar-powered hot water system.

Hettinger shook his head.

“I’ll slowly go crazy, I guess,” he said, digesting the extensive damage.

Hettinger continued to survey the wreckage, finding his cast iron pans and a few coins in the dirt and ash. Sasha the dog sniffed the blackened ground, staying close to the wreckage of her home.

“God works in mysterious ways. Who knows? Maybe there’s a reason for this,” said Hettinger.

Friday, June 3, 2016

Homeless in Corvallis, Ore.

A Southtown homeless camp in Corvallis, Ore., beneath the off-ramp that takes traffic into downtown Corvallis from Route 34.  Their camp is situated near the river and on the backside of Avery Park. On Saturday, May 22, Karen Albrecht wakes up from a nap and speaks to her friend Darren Perreard, who lounges on the opposite mattress. 


Summer Jackson "flies" a sign outside of the downtown Corvallis Post Office on Saturday, May 22, and encounters a curious child passing with by with his mother. Summer moved to Corvallis from Port Townsend, Wash., 25 years ago, and has spent the last seven years of her life homeless. Summer hopes to attend Linn-Benton Community College in the near future to finish an associate's degree. She dropped out of the school several years ago. 

Karen Albrecht wakes from an afternoon slumber with her partner, John Phillips on Saturday, May 22, in a homeless camp just outside Avery Park in Corvallis, Ore. Karen has been homeless on and off since 1990, and has lived outside with Phillips for the last 6 years. She has attended both Linn-Benton Community College in Albany, Ore., and Oregon Coast Community College in Newport, Ore. According to Albrecht, she lost access to financial aid and was forced to drop out of school when she was put in jail for unpaid fines. 

On Saturday, May 22, Darren Perreard, hangs out with Karen Albrecht and John Phillips at their camp beneath an overpass, next to the train tracks and Avery Park in Southtown Corvallis, Ore. Perreard has been homeless on and off his whole life. 

John Phillips near his tent in Avery Park in Corvallis, Ore on Wednesday, May 25. The police regularly come by to give Phillips and Albrecht notices to leave the park, like the one he holds in his hand. Phillips and Albrecht cannot stay in the same homeless shelter as a couple, so prefer to spend their nights in a tent outside. Homeless men and women are often forced to stay in separate shelters, making life difficult for committed couples. If Phillips and Albrecht aren't quick enough to evacuate the park, they face fines and the confiscation of their gear such as sleeping bags, cooking stoves, and clothing. 

Friday, May 27, 2016

Invisible disease: Widespread misinformation and lack of research affects the lives of millions of women suffering from endometriosis

I remember lying on the cold, hard tile of the Cascade High School girl’s locker room floor, feeling the crunch of dirt and grit beneath my shoulders.

“Breath into the pain, let your muscles relax,” my mother had told me the first time I experienced these debilitating “menstrual cramps.”

I laid on my back and watched the shuffle and squeak of tennis shoes exit the locker room for gym class. At eye level, the stampede of feet ran in a vibration around my body, in perfect time with the excruciating waves of pain radiating through my core, down my legs, and through my back.

I clutched my stomach, swallowed my moans and tried to remember to breathe deeply. I couldn’t move, and there was no way I was making it to gym class.

Friends would ask if I was okay or if they could help. The other girls glanced down and avoided me.

They'd ask, “Whats wrong with you?”

The reverberating, unavoidable question.



On other days I hid in one of the dark red bathroom stalls on the opposite side of the locker room, avoiding social scrutiny. I twisted handfuls of toilet paper as if transferring my pain through my palms, out of my body and into the torn-up wads. Only the chicken-scratch graffiti witnessed my silent tears.

Silence became the regular echo of my pain. The clench and unclench of clammy hands is still a familiar motion.

I did not understand what was happening to me, or why I was so different from the boisterous girls in the locker room. Why did I experience debilitating pain during those oh-so-special days of the month, when they could just pop a tampon and an Advil and be on with their day?

No one tried to explain it; no one could.

When the time came to try out for basketball, I knew I would end up in a puddle on that locker room floor, rocked by waves of endless pain.

I implored the coach; she sneered at me and my “bad cramps.”

She told me to take a few Advil and suck it up like the rest. To her, my pain was something to be minimized, the normal experience of a teenage girl. I was weak, unable to handle what the other girls could.

But I wasn’t like the other girls.

I’d already taken the maximum dose of over-the-counters and then some. In the mornings before school I choked down cups of bitter, watery-brown cramp-bark tea. Nothing helped.

I gave up on basketball. I walked away, one of the first times in my life I felt defeat; felt the gut-sickening sting of giving up.

I couldn't explain my symptoms except that I was weak, my pain essentially did not matter, and it was not real.

I had nothing to compare it to, no internal measurement protocol for “normal” versus “excruciating.”

I stopped speaking about what I was experiencing. Years went by, and I “dealt” every month. Some periods were worse; some I could classify as “normal.”

If a single doctor I spoke to considered what I told them before dismissing it as, “periods hurt,” maybe I would have been diagnosed with endometriosis at 14, instead of a full 12 years after symptoms started throwing me my monthly pity-party.

I might have received regular ultrasounds to monitor any possible growths or cysts occuring on my ovaries, or hormone therapy to help regulate my pain.

Instead, adults and doctors responded by sending dismissive messages qualifying my pain as normal. I responded with silence and a deepening distrust in my own mind and body.

At 15 years old, who was I to ignore them?

In truth, I was suffering from endometriosis, a misunderstood and misdiagnosed disease that affects one in 10 women in the United States.

A “benign” disease, (meaning it doesn’t kill you, just makes you miserable), it occurs when tissues similar to the endometrial lining of the uterus implant outside the womb. During menstruation the implants cannot drain and instead wreak havoc, forming scar tissue, lesions, and cysts. The tissues can grow like a web, fusing or changing the location of the organs in the pelvic region, including the reproductive organs, colon, bladder, appendix, and rectum.

The invisible disease escapes the notice of CT scans, MRI's, most ultrasounds and physical examinations. A surgical diagnosis is the only clear one.

An article published on endometriosis.org discussed the first research conducted over 10 countries about the effects of endometriosis on workplace productivity in women.

On average, women lose 10 hours per week of work-time. These women suffer not just from the disease but from a lack of viable healthcare options and irreparable damage to what should be the most productive years of their lives.

Faced with insurance nightmares and often out-of-pocket surgery costs, they experience not only productivity loss, but a looming potential to lose their livelihoods.

“Endometriosis affects women during the prime years of their lives, a time when they should be finishing education, starting and maintaining a career, building relationships and perhaps have a family,” said Dr. Stephen Kennedy, head of department and professor of reproductive medicine at the University of Oxford. “For these women to have their productivity affected, their quality of life compromised and their chances for starting a family reduced, is something society can no longer afford to ignore. It is time we see serious investment in preventing this debilitating condition in the next generation of women.”

Yet a dysphoria continues.

I received my first definitive laparoscopic diagnosis at 25. Until then, my mother remained silent about her own experience. She’d been misdiagnosed and undergone two surgeries in which the surgeon discovered and removed the endometriosis. She didn’t realize this had any relevancy towards my own experience of womanhood.

Her lack of disclosure or understanding that I was suffering from the same disease is not a failure on her part as a mother. Our symptoms were different.

Not a single doctor warned my mother that endometriosis had been linked to genetic disposition, or of its prevalence. Their lack of education became her lack of information, and therefore my lack of competent health care.

It wasn’t a failure of coaches or teachers to take notice, or a failure of my family doctor. It is a symptom of a prevalent societal sickness; a failure to address women-specific needs and disease.

Social epidemiologist at George Mason University Jhumka Gupta believes that dismissive societal attitudes such as victim-blaming and stigmatizing women’s public health issues like sexual assault and postpartum depression are influential in the lack of public education regarding endometriosis.

“Endometriosis is virtually absent from public health and social justice advocacy agendas,” said Gupta in a CNBC article. “The medical and public health communities and society at large are either uninformed or misinformed.”

There’s still a tampon tax in 41 states-- that’s a tax burden placed only on women for a simple health necessity.

This is a symptom of an overall dismissal of women and their value to society.

Otherwise, why would research about a disease that affects at least 176 million women worldwide be so vastly underfunded?

The National Institutes of Health 2016 budget allots only $11 million for endometriosis, a disease experienced by an estimated 13 million women in the United States. Diabetes affects just over double that number, at 29 million people, and receives 94 times the funding, over 1$ billion.

Our daughters, sisters, wives and mothers’ everyday lives are burdened with the wide array of symptoms from this under-researched disease.

Symptoms range from infertility to extreme gastrointestinal pain, back pain, abdominal cramping and bloating, chronic fatigue, inflammation and dyspareunia- unbearably painful sex. These are just a few of the most prevalent, disruptive symptoms to a woman’s productivity and her enjoyment of a full and beautiful life.

The cause of endometriosis is unknown, as is a cure.

Of course, not much has gone into finding out.

Many women go most of their lives without a diagnosis, and many are misdiagnosed before receiving that stamp; the giant, gynecological “Uh-oh” that is endometriosis.

It takes an average of seven to 10 years after symptoms begin before a correct diagnosis is reached. For many women an answer is its own relief. Years of silent pain are manifested; they have found a tentative ground from which to break their collective silences and begin to understand the mysteries of their bodies.

They were never hysterical, crazy, experiencing phantom pain, or weak. They were enduring. And they were strong.

But a diagnosis is also the start of a harrowing journey of cold metal stirrups, gooey ultrasounds, painful surgeries and monthly shots in the ass. (Lupron shots suppress the production of estrogen in the body, and is also used as a hormone therapy for transgender men.)

And they’re lucky if insurance agrees to cover it all.

Author and actress Lena Dunham went public in 2015 with her personal health journey and experience with endometriosis.

“I know I’m lucky in the grand health scheme, but I also know that I am one of many women who grasp for a sense of consistent well-being, fight against the betrayals of their bodies, and who are often met with skepticism by doctors trained to view painful periods as the lot of women who should learn to grin and bear it,” wrote Dunham.

The millions of women’s lives and health affected by endometriosis need to become a priority.

In a more educated society, I might have been diagnosed when I first experienced symptoms at 14, long before the morning I awoke at 25, attempting to get to work and instead retching in agony. Pain like hands with razor-blade fingernails twisted at my insides. I couldn’t stay on my feet.

I crawled through the house and halfway up the stairs towards my roommate's door before anyone heard me calling for help. They carried me to the car, where I moaned, petrified the whole way to the emergency room.

At the ER a kind doctor loaded me up with a dose of Dilaudid and I felt relief seep through my body, a relief from a pain so unceasing it lived as a constant in the back of my mind, shoved into the darkest corner of my closet, a wretched, shivering, gollum.

The doctor proceeded to do the whole stirrups-and-speculum-number, and decided to move me quickly along towards the more gooey, transvaginal ultrasound portion of my stay.

Endometriosis was his conclusion, but he couldn’t positively diagnose it without laparoscopic surgery.

A month later I went under the knife. I received a full laparotomy incision instead of the laparoscopic surgery they had prepped me for.
The author post-surgery on May 1, 2012.

Complications arose. The surgeon had removed an endometrioma, or “chocolate cyst,” the size of a tennis ball from my body. It had lowered my ovaries behind my uterus.

I am still on a journey for health. Using the Mirena IUD to suppress my cycles in an effort to slow the progress of the disease hasn’t worked. Two years after the surgery I experienced a surge in symptoms-- new symptoms.

I was told that if I had the surgery and used hormonal birth control to suppress my cycles, the endometriosis would most likely not recur.

Misinformation.

If they had let any disease go unnoticed during surgery or only removed superficial disease, it would resurface.

Unfortunately, current insurance codes only accept specific types of surgery, ones that often leave disease lingering, ineffective for complicated, widespread cases of endometriosis. This prevents women from seeking the care of specialists who perform the far more expensive but effective excision surgeries.

When I presented with intense gastrointestinal symptoms I approached multiple doctors about the possibility of endometriosis returned. I was met with shaken heads and told it was extremely unlikely if not impossible. It must simply be a case of Irritable Bowel Syndrome.

Misdiagnosis.

I elimination-dieted, developed weird food intolerances, was miserable, dieted more, gained weight, lost weight, became so bloated I looked eight months pregnant.

After a year without insurance, I qualified for state insurance and was lucky enough to be referred to Royce Ryker, a nurse practitioner at The Corvallis Clinic who looked me in the eyes, listened to my story and immediately ordered a colonoscopy.

Endometriosis usually cannot be found through a colonoscopy, but my case was different. The tissues have grown through, or significantly thickened the wall of my sigmoid colon. Heads up, because it’s time for another surgery.

And to all those doctors who didn’t listen: I was right all along.

It is possible to become numb to the pain of something you can’t see or express when you are constantly silenced. When you are told you must love your body, yet your body betrays you so inexplicably, the pain becomes a sign of mental weakness rather than a physical one.

The silence becomes its own weird, painful enigma.

The rampant misinformation surrounding endometriosis is a ripple effect set in motion by a prevalent disregard towards the women of the world.

Millions of affected women share a burden of pain that is not only theirs to bear, it is a detriment to society. Ignoring their healthcare needs is ignoring your own family’s; after all, one in ten women is surely your mother, your sister, your daughter, or your friend


For Further Information:


Sunday, May 22, 2016

My Hometown: Downtown Corvallis

The Corvallis Post Office on Saturday, May 22. Two local homeless friends rest by the building and "spange" for change.  On the  left, Donacio Corona Hernandez, or "Caveman" as he is known by friends, has been homeless for 36 years. On the right, Summer Jackson has lived in Corvallis for 25 years, but has been homeless for the last seven. 




Around the corner from Donacio and Summer, John Tucker  greets people with a smile and "good day,"  while sitting on the sidewalk outside the post office. Most people nod, smile, or ignore him. He doesn't ask for money, but holds a sign that tells passerbys what he needs them to know. John grew up near Corvallis in Lebanon, and has been homeless for two years. 




Just three blocks from the post office, a family catches a ride in a pedicab at the Saturday Farmer's Market to head home. They are just about to beat the downpour of  rain at 1:30 p.m. on May 21.  The pedicab rider, Cheyne Willems, is a former LBCC student who once took this very same photojournalism class.





Friday, May 20, 2016

Adventures at the Corvallis skate park: Photojournalism week 8

A  great day to get air at the Corvallis skate park on Tuesday, May 17. Andrew Rosenbalm started riding bmx freestyle at the park summer 2015.

JJ Combs, a Corvallis local and skateboarder, enjoyed the sunny day at the skate park on Tuesday, May 17.

Andrew Rosenbalm gears up for a trick at the Corvallis skate park on Tuesday, May 17.  Rosenbalm's favorite  trick is a  "tuck-no-hander." He's riding a Colony Emerge bmx. 
Other photos from Tuesday, May 17:


Silas Hart has been riding BMX for two and a half years. A Corvallis native, he attends Corvallis High. 

Silas Hart

Scrapes and bruises are common at the Corvallis skate park. Johnathon Brown has been skating for 16 years and is graduating from OSU in June.  

Art, fairytales, and forest creatures: artist and instructor Andy Myers brings a unique style to OSU and LBCC art programs

Surveying the room, instructor and artist Andy Myers is the director of a classroom symphony. Violins of dusty charcoal squeak along paper pages, followed by a chorus of creaking benches and the swelling silence of concentration.

The rhythmic scritch-scratching of charcoal and pencil commences, underscored with the soft sounds of hands pushing charcoal across the fibers of their pages.

In the center of the room, the nude model blinks, her still body reclined on a chair draped in fabric, atop a raised platform.

“Keep thinking about the big areas rather than the small ones right away,” says Myers, arms folded across his chest.

Students are seated on a clutter of paint-splattered gray drawing benches arranged in a circle. A jumble of drawing tools, charcoal and backpacks are scattered at their feet. Their instructor paces the circle, taking his time, pausing to look over shoulders and leaning in to offer advice.

“You can just change it. Think of it as being very flexible,” Myers says to a student.

In the Figure Drawing class at LBCC, students sit and draw the model for 20-minute increments, for a total of three hours at a time. From their bench perches, each student has a different perspective of the subject, and each possesses a unique way of drawing and learning.

The dedicated instructor is a successful artist in his own right, showcased in galleries and colleges in Washington and Oregon. Myers often collaborates with other artist and mediums, exploring creative thresholds locally and globally. He also dedicates class time with each student to encourage individual learning curves.

“The approach I take [to teaching] is individual,” said Myers. “I’m not saying, ‘Everybody you’ve got to make work like this,’ which a lot of people do. I’m thinking about individually where they’re going and trying to help them on that path.”

Jesse Rose, LBCC student, has taken two drawing classes with Myers.

“I really like his teaching style. It’s all studio time. The way Andy does it, you learn art through the process, applying it for a better understanding of the concepts,” said Rose.

According to Rose, the figure drawing class learns human anatomy, studying the skeletal and muscular structures of the body to help them translate what they see onto paper.

“It’s a lot more work for me, because it’s teaching 20 different things rather than one thing, but that’s the only way I can do it. It’s not a factory kind of teaching,” said Myers.

Though clearly dedicated to his student’s success, Myers’ own path to teaching wasn’t as clear.

“Teaching definitely wasn’t on my radar at all,” said Myers.

After finishing with a master's of fine arts from Portland State University, Myers first experienced the other side of the classroom working as a teaching assistant. This lead to teaching his own drawing class for the first time.

“It was successful enough it wasn’t a disaster,” said Myers.

It must’ve been a success, because 12 years later Myers is still at it, honing drawing skills at OSU and LBCC.

“I have a lot of students that aren’t art majors or even minors. This might be the only art class they ever take, but learning how to see, you’re going to get something out of it that’s lifelong,” said Myers.

He spends class-time teaching students to peer at the world through a new lens. They learn to disseminate objects into basic shapes, to notice the interaction of shadows and highlights, the surrounding negative space, and to explore how an object is put together, piece by piece.

“My interest in science and art are very similar, so I think about art making like a scientist does,” said Myers.

Like his teaching career, his career as an artist may have snuck up on him.

“Most kids draw or make something, but most people stop. I just never stopped.”

He never thought one day, “I am going to be an artist.” These things, it seems, just happen.

“I remember my mom saying something about one day I did call myself an artist and that stood out to her, and I didn’t really realize it.”

As an Oregon native, Myers grew up in farm country, in the northeast part of the state. He spent his summers working for farmers, even driving cattle. His stepfather was a wildlife biologist and during frequent outdoor excursions, Myers was instilled with an affinity for the natural world.

“It’s definitely not wildlife art, but there’s layers,” said Myers. “Like geologic cross-sections and things like that I think are really interesting, wild places and wild creatures. I think about endangered places and creatures and a lot of that I tie in with me as a human being and think about the relationships there.”

Marc Callahan, professor of opera and voice at OSU, recognized the remarkable quality of Myers’ art. Callahan found an inspiration and aesthetic for his first opera production at OSU, “The Blue Forest.”

“I love the way that he sees forests differently than we do,” said Callahan. “His art was perfect.”

The collaboration involved over 20 faculty and staff from three different departments, culminating in the production of Louis Aubert’s fairytale opera. The production brought Myers’ art to enactment on eight screens, projected around the circumference of the classroom in the round, in OSU’s new Learning Innovation Center.

“What I’m making isn’t the final thing, and when I make a show, it is. I’m the last person to touch it,” said Myers. “Whereas this, I’m sending work, and they're taking the working and doing things with it, and it’s going to go up huge and interact with people and sounds that I’m removed from, so that’s really exciting and scary.”

On opening night, Friday, May 13, his charcoal forest came to life, unfolding into a storybook filled with song and spectacle.

“He has this kind of playful creativity. I love how he twists reality. We see a lot of reality in his work, but we are seeing his view of reality. It’s like seeing it through his lens,” said Callahan.

Myers will continue creating and collaborating this summer in the Slovak Republic with artist Craig Goodworth. The two have been awarded grants from the Oregon Arts Commission to travel and install an exhibition in a Slovak museum.

“The first collaboration we did in Salem was called Ecotone Number 1, so this will be Ecotone Number 2,” said Myers. "An ecotone is where two environments come together, like a forest and a field.”

The artists will bring their different styles and an American perspective to Slovakian culture, exploring the borders of this particular, unique “ecotone” between the two artists and two cultures.

“It’s interesting how people’s mindset, they think of art as a little kid class, because, sadly, that’s where it is in the American school system,” said Myers.

Myers often teaches students who sign up for the class thinking it will be easy. Those students are always in for a surprise.

“It’s very hard work. It’s some hard physical work but it’s hard mental work, because frustration sets in immediately,” said Myers. “Making visual art, you’re putting yourself out there where everybody can see. It’s very immediate, as soon as you begin. You just have to persevere, you can’t be soft and give up at the slightest frustration.”

At a Glance:


  • Andy Myers has been an art instructor at Oregon State University for 11 years, and teaches classes at Linn-Benton Community College as well. 
  • He received an MFA from Portland State University, and his bachelors from Eastern Oregon University.
  • His work can be viewed at www.andrewrmyers.com
  • He works primarily with drawing media such as charcoal, graphite, oil stick, china marker, water color, ink and water soluble pencils.
  • His art has been featured in galleries in Portland, Salem, Seattle, Willamette University and LBCC. 
  • He prefers to do large drawings, often covering the space of a wall. He also reuses drawing and pins smaller drawings together to create large works. 
  • Myers also does printmaking.