Yesterday, we learned of the tragic death of Matthew Hammerstone, 21, a senior criminal justice major who was greatly respected by his classmates and faculty.  Those who knew and loved him are heartsick.  Those who didn’t are saddened at the death of a bright young man whose life has ended before its full potential began to blossom.

We give thanks for the friendship some of us enjoyed with Matt.
We remember his goodness and pray for his family.
We celebrate his gifts here and the promise of heaven hereafter.
We believe that our ever-merciful God will embrace him with love.

Fr. Jim wrote to us yesterday powerful words for us to consider: “We know that we do not suffer grief alone: Both our God and our friends and family stand and walk with us during such turmoil.”

As a Salesian community, we trust our ability to reach out for and to let ourselves be touched by the care of one another.  In this way, through the presence of a friend, colleague, or classmate, God is with us: By the power of the Spirit, God’s grace can ease our suffering when others listen to our questions, grief, or rage; sit with us in silence; or pray with and for us to fortify our hope.

St. Francis de Sales once wrote: “Truly it is a blessed thing to love on earth as we hope to love in Heaven, and to begin that friendship here which is to endure for ever there.”

Whether we knew Matt as a good friend and classmate or a student in our course or are now just beginning to hear about his bright character and easy smile, we together can honor his memory by loving a bit more fully here as we hope to love with him and our God in heaven hereafter.

Eternal rest, grant unto Matthew, O Lord.
And let perpetual light shine upon him.
May he rest in peace.
May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God, rest in peace.
Amen.

Rev. Kevin Nadolski, OSFS, vice president for mission.

Nichole L. Hartman, DNP, CRNP, FNP-BC, is an assistant professor of clinical nursing in advanced clinical simulation.

I have been told over and over, “I don’t know how you do it.” This refers to my day-to-day life. I am a wife, a mother, a family nurse practitioner, and a faculty member in the nursing division. My days pre-COVID-19 were go-go-go, from dawn to dusk. I was nonstop. I didn’t think my life was unusual, as this is what I did, day in and day out.

Then one day in March a worldwide pandemic is declared, and I was stopped in my tracks. This was not because I stopped myself but because COVID-19 stopped me, or at least tried to at the time. I was advised to work from home, to stay safe. I set up an office at home, and I proceeded to carry on a typical day from the safety and comfort of my home developing innovative ways to conduct simulation for the nursing students. Life at home was business as usual, as I was still taking my kids to practices, going to watch their games, and working at the hospital when able. Then, once again, I was stopped in my tracks: My kids were sent home from school, and sports were shut down. Shelter-in-place recommendations were put into effect. At this point, I truly had no choice but to stay home and stay safe.

I took DeSales University’s Salesian Solidarity Pledge and prepared myself to be ready for anything. This pledge not only meant I was looking out for my DSU family but my own family and friends. I started to look forward to all the Zoom sessions, to make sure all were well and staying safe. I took solace in these moments from a world I could not control. I started to slow down and see the extraordinary in the ordinary. I reconnected with old friends over email, checked in on family more often, and spent time with my kids, connecting with them on a whole new level. I was filled with awe at what I witnessed in others that, during this pandemic, through such hardship, the positive aspects of human nature, kindness, and resilience were shining through. By being stopped in my tracks, I started to find the beauty in life, the peace in just being, and the joy in being content with what is.

In the words of St. Francis de Sales, “Never be in a hurry, do everything quietly and in calm spirit. Do not lose your inner peace for anything whatsoever, even if your whole world seems upset.”

Nichole L. Hartman, DNP, CRNP, FNP-BC, is an assistant professor of clinical nursing in advanced clinical simulation.

Eric Hagan is the dean of online education.

It’s been said that 80% of success is showing up.

Our success this semester is largely a result of all of us showing up, even if we didn’t know exactly what we were showing up for. Campus Environment, IT, and CERT showed up all summer to make sure our old and new academic spaces and systems were ready for our new world of distanced and hybrid classes. The faculty showed up before the semester by redesigning their classes and learning new technologies and during the semester by supporting our students and meeting tech challenges. Other staff members showed up to prepare other spaces and places and to create new ways of interacting with students. Most importantly, our students showed up and brought the campus back to life.

Many of us are back on campus full-time; others are working or learning from home some or all of the time. Some of us showed up on campus at first, but later the virus dictated that we had to show up online. We all showed up how we could. Each of us played a part and made a difference.

Even if we didn’t know exactly what we were showing up for at first, we knew we weren’t showing up for nothing. We show up for our colleagues and friends, but we also show up, as our mission says, to inspire transformative learning by energizing students to be who they are and be that well. We knew and know that DeSales makes the world a better place by supporting human flourishing in all its dimensions. Turns out we have great reasons to show up.

If 80% of success is showing up, maybe the other 20% is faith – faith in Divine Providence and in each other. If this semester proved anything, it’s that our faith is not misplaced.

A great thing about faith is that you can stop worrying, secure in the knowledge that God keeps His promises. One of those promises appears now and again in the great prayer of the Church, the Liturgy of the Hours. It’s based on a passage from the Book of Daniel and relates to one of our core values: wisdom. Whenever I run across this promise, I feel like God made it just for all of us at DeSales – faculty, staff, and students:

Those who are learned will be as radiant as the sky in all its beauty; those who instruct the people in goodness will shine like the stars for all eternity.

Keep the faith and keep showing up!

Eric Hagan is the dean of online education.

One of the core values of DeSales University is hospitality, as is captured in the quote below.

“Salesian hospitality seeks to accept others by honoring their human dignity and empowering them to be who they are and be that well.”

This quote has me reflecting on what hospitality means to me and the ways in which I have experienced hospitality in my own life.

Susan Givens-Skeaton, Ph.D. is an assistant professor in the division of Business.

I was born and raised in the Midwest, where being hospitable is a way of life. Where people say an audible hello to everyone they pass on the street and where it is not uncommon for two strangers to engage in a complete conversation in the middle of the condiments aisle at the grocery store. But for me, hospitality runs deeper than this. As a child, I witnessed hospitality on a daily basis.

Our parents raised Steve, Laura, and me in their Wayne Street home. This was the only home we kids knew, until we each left for college. Early in our lives, our parents opened our house to three foreign exchange students. Many of our friends found our house a safe place to land. The house on Wayne Street was always a home to us and it became a foster home to at least three of our friends, although it may have been more. I never remembered asking permission for a friend to come over, nor do I recall ever wondering if my parents would say no to a sleepover at our house.

Upon graduating from college, I moved from Omaha to Dallas, where people are known for their southern hospitality. While in Texas, I became good friends with a work colleague who was a transplant from New York City. Her Italian American parents opened their home to me and it was here that I enjoyed some of the most incredible Sunday family dinners.

When I decided to pursue my doctorate, I moved to Albany, New York. Although people from the Northeast have been stereotyped as being rude or unfriendly; that has not my experience. The day after moving to Pennsylvania we awoke to the reality that a huge rainstorm overnight had closed the freeways. We were trying to navigate our way to a Sam’s Club to buy a new mattress. The only directions we had required the use of the interstate. As this was prior to GPS being readily available in our mobile devices, my husband had pulled to the side of the road so we could consult our map. While we sat there with our U-Haul trailer in tow, complete strangers stopped to offer us directions. This certainly did not feel unhospitable. I once heard northeastern people referred to as “efficient” and I feel that is a more apropos description.

As I raise my own family, I place hospitality front and center. I likely won’t have a pot of coffee brewing when you arrive and I certainly don’t have a casserole in the freezer, but I will offer you my last beer and order us a pizza. I love it when my kids have friends over. I am always up for hosting sleepovers and I will never say no to last-minute play dates. Even if my house is a bit messy, people are always welcome.

One of the primary reasons I feel so at home at DeSales is the hospitality I feel when I am on campus. Creating a safe and inclusive space for all students in my classroom is a priority for me. Oh, and you are likely to find me sparking up a full-blown conversation with someone in the middle of the hallway, because apparently you can take the girl out of the Midwest, but you can’t take the Midwest out of the girl.

I encourage you to consider the ways in which you will be hospitable.

Carl Hammerstan, Ph.D., is an assistant professor of mathematics.

For food, for raiment
For life, for opportunity
For friendship and fellowship
We thank thee, O Lord

-Philmont Grace

I don’t know about you, but for me this week—or maybe I should say this semester? Or this year?—has been, for lack of a better word, unexpected. As I made yet another modification to my course schedule today, I found myself thinking fondly of a long-ago trip to Philmont Scout Ranch, nestled in the mountains of New Mexico. I spent two weeks there in the summer of 2002 hiking with my scout troop. Being miles from civilization, carrying “everything” in my pack, and living by the sun’s schedule, really brought to my attention to how my gratitude for the simple things is often displaced by my anxiety for the complex.

Every now and then, I find it calming to remember that some of the most meaningful things in life are indeed quite simple and thus easy to take for granted. I think the Philmont Grace, which we said before every meal on our trip, is a helpful reminder of those simple things I should be grateful for.

For food, for raiment. Sure, my in-person/connected lecture fell apart due to a combination of Zoom glitch and students misreading the rotation schedule. But, at the end of the day, we’re all going back to the warmth of our houses or dorms. The dining hall is open for service. There is food in the cupboard. We have clothes on our backs. It sounds trite, but we have a measure of safety and comfort in our lives. We will all be back next lecture, and we can try again.

For life, for opportunity. More broadly, it has been far too easy for me to get stuck lamenting that nothing this semester has gone how I planned. But, I then remember that it has at least gone at all. Despite the unprecedented disruptions of 2020, our campus has soldiered on, in a fashion. My life has continued. I am lucky to have the opportunity to continue teaching, learning, and working in the profession I love.

For friendship and fellowship. Perhaps the most important reminder: I am not alone. From my wife and kids at home to my colleagues on campus to my students in the classroom, we are all in this together. And, thanks to our Solidarity, that has made the entire “2020 experience” something I never expected, but also something I am surprisingly grateful for.

Carl Hammerstan, Ph.D. is an assistant professor of mathematics.

Fr. Kevin Nadolski, OSFS, Vice President for Mission

“Everything happens for a reason” is a common expression that can easily lead to the idea that our loving God wills evil or seriously bad things to occur in our lives.  We know that God never desires evil.

In light of the past few days of an Election Week—not Night—and spikes in COVID-19 infections internationally, nationally, and locally, as well as the stressors of concluding a semester, we could easily feel tired, if not exhausted.  What is our response to all of this emotional and spiritual unsettlement?

This brief reflection by a Jesuit poet, based on a spiritual encounter with an Orthodox Jew, offers a compelling perspective on how we can respond to the stressors, challenges, and threats to our calm.

Enjoy!

Fr. Kevin Nadolski, OSFS, Vice President for Mission

Angela Sigley Grossman is an associate professor of dance.

The countdown is on. Less than two weeks of classes remain, and the holiday season is fast approaching. As I revel in the gift of 70-degree November days, it’s a good time to be reflective. I can be a chronic over-planner, but so many times this year I’ve had to toss those plans out the window. We’ve all had to have patience with ourselves and with each other, and we’ve had to give ourselves permission to take things in a different direction. Where I’ve found this permission is in one of my most beloved embodied creative practices, improvisation. Since the way that I understand the world is through movement, I’ve had to rely on the curiosity and openness I experience as a dance artist and strive to apply those qualities to other aspects of my life.

I also chuckle at how many movement-related words we use to describe this time. Pivot. Shift. Zoom.

Breaking movement down into basic elements leaves us with body, action, space, time, and effort. Our relationship with each of these elements has been altered since March. We have become connected to our bodies in different ways. We employ new verbs as part of the daily routine, and the actions we DO are just as important as the actions we DON’T do. We are more observant of the space we are in and the space we take up. We are more cognizant of the negative space. It usually takes longer to get things done. It takes more time to clean our spaces, prepare for classes, unmute yourself. And we experience major shifts in effort, energy, and dynamics, each day, each hour, each moment. Some days it feels bound, tight, weighted, forceful. Other days it feels light, flowing, free, easy.

Improvisation in dance means making spontaneous movement choices, usually in response to some kind of stimulus, such as movement directive, imagery, music, other people. Improvisation, while unplanned, does not mean dancing without thinking, or necessarily doing whatever you please. There are simply many valid answers to every problem. Improvisation is a technique; it’s something everyone can do, and it can be practiced.

When we improvise, we allow ourselves to be open to the moment, be mindful, and welcome what comes. We accept that it won’t always be pretty, but something valuable will be learned in the process. If we are willing to experience the unknown, and curious about what’s possible, even if it means we might stumble, that’s when we benefit the most.

So, how are your bodies feeling today? I invite you to connect to your breath, feel the weight of your body resting in your chair, let yourself feel supported. What do you notice about how you feel? What new direction will you let yourself go in today? What might happen if you improvise?

Angela Sigley Grossman is an associate professor of dance.

Gracia Perilli is the associate director of athletics.

History has shown me that no matter what happens in the world, sports is the one thing you can consistently count on. When we sent the student-athletes home immediately after returning to campus from their spring break trips last spring, I never anticipated their season would be over. In the past, games may have been postponed, but seasons were never canceled, or so I had believed.

Sports have been a major part of my life. The one thing I could always count on, the thing that defined me, was now gone. Now what? Our entire staff was struggling with that exact question, but I couldn’t give them an answer.

The last eight months have forced me to look at my world through a different lens. Don’t get me wrong… every day, all-day has been spent trying to figure out how to safely return our athletes and coaches to their respective playing fields with the hopes of competing. This year, we all have been redefining what our roles are and how to rethink and celebrate the smaller victories without competing.

I found out that I was not going to die if I wasn’t on campus running around at a game every Saturday. People weren’t going to think less of me if I went home at a normal hour. I could be living in the moment while enjoying dinner with my family instead of worrying about pending weather and what that would mean for games the next day. 

I also realized how blessed I truly am. I have a loving family that is healthy, cats who tolerate me, and I am surrounded by amazing people at DeSales University. 

I’d like to take this opportunity to thank everyone on campus for their commitment to the health and well-being of our entire community. The students have been extremely patient and cooperative in carrying out the game plan. And to the faculty and staff for their flexibility and creativity keeping everyone engaged and focused on getting through the semester successfully.

We may not have played a game on campus in months…but DeSales University is and always will be a winner!

Gracia Perilli is the associate director of athletics.

I went grocery shopping the other day and accidentally left a bag of eggs and bread at the register. I didn’t realize it until two days went by and we ran out of eggs. In my frustration, I explained to my ten- year old son this example of the mistakes made when you’re rushing around and not paying attention. His response to me was that maybe the person behind me in line needed the eggs and bread more than we.

I’m unsure if this response would’ve been the same before the pandemic. Typically, this time of year, the obsession over Halloween costumes, too much homework, and weekend plans with friends might crowd out the kind thoughts of others. The path of least resistance is to follow negative thoughts and anxiety about daily tasks, time constraints, and the future. It’s just as easy to reframe our thoughts into kindness and invoke gentleness.

In our new learning environment at DeSales, gentleness resonates in our concern for the well-being of each other and in providing the absolute best experience for our students. Gentleness requires strength—both physical and mental—to maintain interest and rigor and to foster trusting relationships and continue personal growth.

I’m amazed at the ability of humans to adapt. It’s what inspired me in nursing practice and now, as I teach future nurses and nurse practitioners. In my nursing career, I’ve seen this over and over: the human body and mind adapting to change and creating a new and acceptable environment. Maybe this alteration in our lifestyle has a Salesian benefit or two.

We are witnessing people stretch themselves in ways that are strange and unfamiliar. We are working and learning differently. We’ve slowed down, spent more time with family, and discovered the best of each other. Because of shared stress, our impact on each other is greater. In general, we are living differently: taking the time to acknowledge what others might need and deciding to help in any way we can is powerful. Sometimes, a perceived failure is unintentional gentleness for another. I hope someone who needed my eggs and bread is enjoying a delicious breakfast.

Fran Fasching, DNP, RN, FNP- BC, is an assistant professor of nursing.