Category Archives: MSU

Faster. Better. Cheaper.

Little known fact: The US military is the largest supply chain in the world.

My supply chain management education will always color the way I view things.  At times, I wish it didn’t.  In education, I like to believe that most students will find their way, eventually.  Most will find their purpose.  I feel for those who don’t, but it is a reality of life.  There are always those who remain lost, and sadly, I’ve known a few.  I can help, but I can’t be everything to everyone.

With supply chain issues, there is a solution.  There is always a solution.  We just need the resolve to follow through and make necessary changes.  We learned so many supply chain and economic lessons from the Greatest Generation and World War II, but as that generation passed away, I fear that we have lost those lessons or even ignored them completely.

Let me start at the beginning.  I am deeply proud to come from a long line of entrepreneurs.  I long idolized my dad and Grandpa Buttrick.  Both owned and ran their own companies and were self-employed, as different as their companies were and still are.  My dad developed Russell Canoe Livery around our family and our lifestyle.  He had no desire to build it beyond what it is now, even if we had the opportunity.  

Grandpa, on the other hand, loved to build.  He expanded his convenience store business into screen printing, Subway franchises, propane, hotels, and more.  He even loved to compete against himself from time to time.  As a child who loved to build, I took notice.  In having the opportunity to manage one of his convenience stores for a few years, I am grateful to have learned just why Grandpa loved the c-store business so much.  Ultimately, it helped me become a better manager at the canoe livery and a more empathetic boss.

While this cover is exactly how I remember it, it must be an updated version!
No WI-Fi in the 80s and 90s!

As a child, one of the most fascinating books I owned was The Way Things Work by David Macaulay.  I wanted to know how and why things worked.  Looking back, this helps explain why I chose supply chain.  It fit the bill.  I knew I didn’t want to study management.  I wanted to know exactly how value was added, and not just become increasingly removed from day-to-day operations that actually pay the bills.  Accounting and finance never even entered the picture.  In fact, my mom and I joke that we would starve if we had to try and make a living as accountants.  I am decent at math, but I make errors far too often, and it is not my thing.

I do have two older cousins who earned supply chain degrees from Michigan State and blazed the trail, but as my older cousin Emily tried to sell me on supply chain, it made me look at the program more critically.  Instead, my experiences at the Broad Business Student Camp (BBSC) after my junior year of high school sold me on Michigan State and supply chain management.  During that week attending BBSC, I had the opportunity to explore State’s incomparable campus, everything the Eli Broad College of Business had to offer, as well as all things supply chain.  In short, I had the opportunity to preview what my life would be like as a Michigan State business student with one of my best friends.  What was not to like?  By the time my parents dropped me off at MSU in August of 1999, I had to kick them out of my dorm room as I had already connected with student groups in the business school, and I was not going to be late for the first meeting.

Now you know why I never wavered in my pursuit of my supply chain degree, in spite of the fact that, deep down, I knew that I wanted to be a teacher as well.  As for the deeper lessons that stayed with me and kept me up at night, it all started with a business history class I took during the winter of 2000, the very heights of the dot.com bubble.  In fact, the bubble burst that consumed that spring forced me to pay attention.  My history professor, in fact, predicted the fall of the stock market (the dot.com bubble) publicly almost as soon as classes started in January.  When it finally happened in March, as a 19 year old, it left a deep impression.  However, as memorable as that experience was, this is not primarily why I remember this class 25 years later.

Instead, my professor’s description and explanation of how Detroit became the “arsenal of democracy” still sends shivers down my spine.  He made the case that the United States and the Allies would not have won World War II without Detroit.  While I knew Detroit played an important part in the war, I didn’t realize just how important.  Supposedly, when Hitler received intelligence of manufacturing totals coming out of Detroit, he didn’t believe it.  Those who had gained manufacturing experience in cities like Detroit, especially Detroit, would turn their focus to the war effort.

When you think of the manufacturing capability we had during that time, the early 20th century, it makes sense. We were able to help supply Great Britain long before we officially entered the war after Pearl Harbor.  Thanks to FDR, we switched from manufacturing consumer goods to munitions.  We went from cars and refrigerators to tanks and aircraft.  This is the question that keeps me up at night:  Would we be able to do so again if faced with such a crisis?  I don’t know.

Actually, I doubt it, as the way things are now.  Born at the end of 1980, I’ve watched my entire life as Michigan lived up to its “rust belt” image.  Most of the business professionals I graduated with in 2004, me included, had to relocate to states such as Texas and California to find jobs.  When my parents graduated from college in the late 70s, there were still good manufacturing jobs to be had right out of high school, although that would soon come to an end.  I grew up hearing of plant closures, manufacturing outsourcing, and general loss of manufacturing capability in the United States.  It is all I knew. By the time I sought to start my career, little remained.  Instead, less secure positions with multinationals outsourcing much of their labor to places like China, Mexico, and India took their place, particularly in the shadow of the first dot.com bust.

By the time I interned with IBM out in Rochester, Minnesota during the summer of 2001, not only did they not have enough for their interns to do, their full-time, permanent employees didn’t either.  Instead, they were focusing on their garage bands and updating their resumes.  In 2003, as part of a tour of a GM factory in Mexico near the border, I vividly remember seeing rows upon rows upon rows of brand new Pontiac Azteks and Buick Rendezvous awaiting shipment as our chartered bus slowly approached the plant.  Looking back, it foreshadowed Pontiacs epic downfall several years later. Tragically, Pontiac would never recover from the monstrosity that was the Pontiac Aztek.

My last semester at Michigan State in 2004 brought the Eli Broad College of Business’s first Chinese Supply Chain Symposium.  Of course, it focused on all of the wonderful benefits of outsourcing manufacturing to China.  I left wondering if I was the only one asking just how long before we were outsourcing our own jobs?  Where and when would it end?  Was I the only one seeing the connection between outsourcing and both unemployment and underemployment in the United States?

Even Russell Canoe Livery has a supply chain,
one with its own set of challenges and setbacks.

I will leave you with this summary.  We desperately need to bring manufacturing back to this country.  If you think the supply chain interruptions during the COVID 19 pandemic were bad (and I followed them closely), what would happen in the case of an even worse global crisis?  Good manufacturing jobs helped finance the growth of the middle class throughout most of the 20th century, particularly after World War II.  Why can’t we get back there?  We’ve learned so much during that time, and we have the workforce, if given a chance.  I hope I live to see it.  By the way, this doesn’t mean becoming isolationist.  It is simply expanding beyond the pharmaceutical, technology, and service industries.  Supporting local farms wouldn’t hurt either!  Cheap is good, but it is not always best in the long-run.  We’ve remained far too short-sighted and complacent for far too long.

Mom, Dad, and I – Spring 2001
Tower Guard Induction – Beaumont Tower, Michigan State University
In honor of Grandma Reid, who worked as a riveter in both Hamtramck, MI and Fort Worth, TX during the World War II era, all before the age of 20.

Goodbye, November

Where did November go?  Seriously?  It seems as though we just went back to school, and now, we are well past the halfway mark for first semester.  I have to say, my November was packed with lots of fun.  So many new memories made!

At the beginning of the month, I attended a Saginaw Valley State University (SVSU) game with my siblings and their families.  Go Cards!  After the game, we all spent time hanging out at my parents’ house watching even more football and eating pizza.  I think it has to become a new tradition.  Even though I don’t hunt, I enjoyed everyone else discussing and making plans for opening day (November 15th for firearm deer season here in Michigan).  I love that the tradition continues, even if Camp Russell is long gone.

The following Friday night, John and I attended the Barenaked Ladies (BNL) concert at Soaring Eagle Casino in Mt. Pleasant, Michigan.  It did not go as planned, to say the least.  Somehow, we did not have the seats we thought we had.  I still have no idea how, why, where, or when the mixup happened, but it did.  First, let me start with the opening band, Toad the Wet Sprocket.  While not quite a one-hit wonder, Toad the Wet Sprocket had a couple of hits with “All I Want” and “Walk on the Ocean” in the 90s.  Honestly, pretty forgettable and comparable to dad yacht rock of the late 70s and early 80s.  Way, way too mellow, even for me.  The aesthetic of the set worked well, but if things were going to start off this slow, we were in for a long night.

Now before I discuss BNL, you have to understand that I waited 20 years to see them in concert.  BNL is a huge part of the soundtrack of both my high school and college years.  In 2004, during my senior year at Michigan State, I had the opportunity to see them at the Breslin Center.  Unfortunately, my firstborn intuitive sense of responsibility kicked in.  I had too much to do.  I shouldn’t spend the money.  It goes on and on.  As I have proven time and time again, I am my own worst enemy.  Buy the damn concert tickets!  Just go!

As much as I tried to lower my expectations for the BNL concert, it didn’t work.  Instead, I left disappointed.  In fact, we left after the first song.  It just wasn’t what we were expecting at all.  We’d looked up set lists from earlier concerts on the tour, and it looked great.  As one would expect, they opened with one of their monster hits and continued to mix their hits with their new, super mellow album “In Flight.”  I’d listened to the new album before the concert and enjoyed it for what it was.  Looking at the supposed setlist, I thought it would work well.  Wrong!

Mt. Pleasant happened to be the last concert on their tour, and for whatever reason, they completely changed up the set list.  They started with the new songs and continued the dad yacht rock vibe with a vengeance.  No telling when they would get to their back catalog.  Also, what really worried me is the fact that their hits could have been played in a more mellow, stripped down, acoustic version a la MTV Unplugged.  I enjoy that type of music at times, but that is the exact opposite reason why I wanted to see BNL.  I wanted the crazy energy of “One Week,” “The Old Apartment,” and the “Big Bang Theory Theme.”  Add in a BNL superfan who insisted on talking to me throughout the entire break between acts, in addition to continually bumping her purse in John’s side, we were over it.  We left.  Again, lesson learned.

Fortunately, the weekend wasn’t ruined.  We spent time at Michigan State on Saturday.  I showed John all my old favorite haunts.  It is surreal though.  In East Lansing, I constantly felt simultaneously back at home and flabbergasted on how much had changed.  I’m just glad that Crunchies, the Peanut Barrel, and the Pita Pit are still there.  Fun note:  Barstool Sports sponsored a pub crawl throughout East Lansing that Saturday.  We were trying to figure out why we were seeing groups of students dressed up as bananas all over campus and East Lansing.  At first, we thought it might be some crazy type of protest.

Now that Thanksgiving and deer season are behind us, bring on Christmas!  December, of course, never disappoints.  Advent starts tomorrow.  I hope to slow down and enjoy it!

Dear MSU, a Love Letter

Dear MSU students, faculty, and staff,

It shouldn’t be like this.

As an MSU alum who counts her entire MSU career as among the best days of her life, I am shattered to think what you are processing at the moment.  As a girl from Michigan’s smallest city – Omer, Michigan – I always felt safe in East Lansing, particularly on campus.  It felt like home.  You – we – no longer have that luxury.

As you were sheltered in place, terrified, I watched family and friends both in East Lansing and across the state worry about their MSU students and neighbors on Facebook.  During my years at MSU, I had countless classes in Berkey Hall and spent just as much time in the Union.  I could visualize myself in your situation all too vividly. My mind went to all of the lockdown drills I’ve experienced as a teacher and the all too real threats students face today.  I’ve always asked myself what I’d do if the threat was real.  It breaks my heart that you had to find out.

Today, as I prepared to head to my class on the campus of Saginaw Valley State University (SVSU), I saw students online terrified to go to class, questioning their safety.  While I understand the feeling, I personally refuse to cave to fear.  I can’t live my life in the shadows of what “might” happen.  I hope no one lets fear get in the way of their dreams, hopes, aspirations.  There is way too much out there to achieve.

Today, we are all Spartans.  

Love,

Lindsey Russell

Honors College 2004

Eli Broad College of Business (BA, supply chain management)

College of Arts and Letters (BA, Spanish)

Joan Osbourne – One of Us (1995)

Joan Osbourne – One of Us (1995) (Video) (Lyrics)

There are one hit wonders, and then there are one hit wonders that reside on Grammy nominated albums.  While I’ve never been a fan of award shows, even the Grammys, I did pay some attention to the Grammy albums that came out each February as a teen – just in case there was something I’d missed the year before.

I don’t remember when I first heard One of Us, but I immediately fell in love with the song.  It was the perfect song to belt by yourself in your car when you think no one is watching.  Half the fun of getting your driver’s license as a teen is the anticipation.  I couldn’t wait to be the one behind the wheel, belting whatever I pleased.

Growing up, the only thing better than waiting to get my license was waiting for my older cousin Abby to get hers.  We are only ten months apart in age and grew up together.  We shared a first Christmas at Grandma Buttrick’s house in 1980 – and every one thereafter until Grandma passed away in 2014.  Now, at Christmas, we bring the party to Abby, even in the middle of blizzards.  We did elementary school, junior high and high school, and even college together.  We, along with her older sister Emily, studied supply chain management at Michigan State.  Freshman year, she was my ride home.  Safe to say, my childhood would have been much different without Abby J.  She was very much the older sister I never had.

In February 1996, the Grammys were over, we were celebrating all of the February birthdays at Aunt Robin’s house, and Abby was just about to turn 16.  Her first car was similar to mine.  I ended up with my beloved ‘89 red Grand Prix and hers was a white ‘88.  Both of those cars ended up saving our lives.

I don’t remember specifically what Abby received for her birthday, aside from the car, but we ended up listening to One of Us on the CD player she had had installed in her car.   There is nothing to compare to giggling in the back seat of a car with your older cousin and younger sister singing along to a great song at top volume.  This image of the three of us singing One of Us with as much emotion as we could muster continues to haunt me.  In a few months, everything would change.

The day started out normal enough.  A typical beautiful early June day not long after school ended for the year, it was to be my first day of driver’s ed.  I had just enough time to down a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats before Mom was to return from the gym and drop me off at the high school.

I met Mom in the kitchen after I heard the door to the garage open.  I knew immediately something awful had happened.  Mom couldn’t stop crying, and generally, Mom wasn’t a crier.  On the way home from the gym, she had heard that Abby had been involved in a tragic car accident.  I don’t know for sure, but I have the idea that she heard it on the radio on her way home.  However it was reported on the radio, it made it sound as though Abby was at fault.  That certainly wasn’t the case.  In reality, Abby was hit head on by a drunk driver.  Another car had been immediately in front of Abby and swerved out of the way of the drunk driver, leaving Abby with no time to react.  Tragically, the other driver died.

Abby was OK but certainly not unscathed.  Once she was home from the hospital, I remember visiting her with my mom, sister, and brother.  My younger brother Garrett, 5 at the time, made her laugh so hard that he had to stop.  It made her stitches hurt.  He still has that effect on people.

My intention here isn’t to tell Abby’s story as I could never do it justice and it isn’t mine to tell.  Instead, it is to finally admit just how deeply Abby’s accident affected me.  Keep in mind that her accident happened on my first day of driver’s ed.  Shortly after learning the true story of the accident and that Abby would be OK, I was sitting in a classroom listening to the driver’s ed instructor talk about her accident.  I wouldn’t feel comfortable behind the wheel for years.   It would take two road trips well into college – one to Minnesota and one to Texas – to make that happen.

In the end, Abby and I joined SADD (Students Against Drunk Driving) the following school year.  She went on to suffer braces all over again and became class president her senior year.  Eventually, we both ended up at Michigan State.  It is thanks to Abby, who still didn’t feel completely comfortable driving the expressway, I learned the back roads home from State.

Everyone always seemed to chalk up my issues behind the wheel – fear, basically – to Turner Syndrome (TS).  Most women with TS do not get their license on time due to depth perception/spatial issues.  Fortunately, I’ve learned how to deal with those.  No, it was my fear and anxiety after Abby’s accident.  One of Us will always take me back to a much simpler time.

Guns N’ Roses – November Rain (1991)

W.M. and I – Puebla, Mexico – March 2004

Guns N’ Roses – November Rain (1991) (Official Video) (Lyrics)

(Written February 2, 2023)

Ah, Michigan State and all of my Alternative Spring Break (ASB) memories in Mexico.  Some of my best ASB memories involve W.M., and one in particular, November Rain by Guns N’ Roses.  It takes me back to nothing less than the most romantic evening of my life.

I met him at the airport as we headed to Merida, Mexico for a week of working hard doing volunteer work and playing even harder.  I was listening to Here Comes the Sun, ready to relax in the Yucatecan sun in the middle of a busy, crazy spring semester, and here was this guy – our site leader for the week – chatting me up.  He flashed me this great smile and asked me what I was listening to at the moment.  We bonded over George Harrison.

Lunch break with friends – Merida, Mexico – March 2001
The week W.M. and I met.

It didn’t take us long to become friends.  By the end of our first day of volunteer work, we were hanging out eating pizza and drinking Mexican beer, getting lost in deep, meaningful conversations.  I had lost my grandfather almost exactly a year before – at age 20, the first real loss of someone so close to me – and I was happy to find someone who understood.  That was the thing – W.M. and I should have had everything in common.

A year ahead of me, he studied marketing and Spanish to my supply chain management and Spanish.  No wonder we had found one another.  Later, the only time I actually met up with him on campus in East Lansing – or the United States for that matter, and for lunch no less – he told me all about his semester in Quito, Ecuador.  I don’t remember if I had already decided on a semester in Ecuador, but after hearing about W.M.’s experiences there, it was a forgone conclusion.

I’d love to say that this story is a college romance that ended well, but that simply wasn’t the case.  Instead, it is a story of friendship spanning years, countries, cultures, and continents that didn’t end so well.  It is also a story of unrequited love on my part.  I fell. Hard.

The thing is that I was never going to change my plans for anyone, muchless a man who hadn’t shown the least bit interest in anything more than friendship.  We left it as friends and that was it.  We were both driven with much to do.  That is, until Spain.

Fast forward nearly two years, and I was in the middle of my semester abroad in Caceres, Spain.  I’d resigned to myself that W.M., unfortunately, wanted to remain friends, nothing more.  Then I received the email.  The week before Valentine’s Day, I receive an email from him stating that he had landed an internship in Madrid – an easy train ride away – did I want to meet up?  Did I!

In the end, we spent a fun weekend in Madrid hanging out.  He booked me a hostel near wherever he was living.  We spent Saturday hanging out, eventually ending up at the Hard Rock Cafe and a beautiful park nearby.  We talked for hours.  Too good to be true, right?  Right.  When he walked me back to the hostel and didn’t even so much as kiss me goodnight, I wept.

In 2004, I returned to Mexico and ASB as a site leader myself.  Now a senior, I juggled interviewing for full-time positions in Texas with classwork along with all of my extracurricular responsibilities, including ASB.  As a result, I had to fly into Mexico City on my own and take a bus to Puebla to meet up with the rest of the group.  I don’t remember exactly how it happened, but W.M. got ahold of me once again.  Would I like to meet up for dinner in Puebla one evening?  He happened to be working in Mexico City at the time.

Beyond confused, I, of course, said yes.  I had no idea what to expect.  Why would this man take a bus at least two hours each way just to spend the evening with me?  He knew no one else in the group and the plan was just for the two of us to meet up.  We were friends, but seriously, what else was going on here?

I met him in the zocalo, or town square, and we quickly found an outdoor table at a local restaurant.  In my mind, the only thing better than Mexican food is authentic Mexican food.  The cuisine in Puebla tops them all.  Pollo en salsa mole anyone?

After watching the sunset over an incredible authentic Mexican dinner, a little red wine, and the ever present great conversation, W.M. and I somehow found our way into the Mexican equivalent of a dive bar.  Now, I am not much of a drinker, but I love the atmosphere in dive bars from time to time.  This one happened to be perfect.

I never really did see any sign advertising the place, but I could not have had more fun.  W.M. and I ended up holding court with a group of Mexican young men roughly our age.  We, two gringos who spoke Spanish who happened to end up in this cool unadvertised bar, stood out.  In fact, they thought we were married.  So, in this ambiance, we all start singing along to November Rain – very poorly.  It is still among the most romantic nights of my life – and he never even so much as kissed me.  Yet, there was at least enough chemistry between us for people to think we were married.

That was the last time I ever saw W.M.  In 2008, I looked him up on Facebook, and unfortunately, it ended up in a political argument that ended our friendship.  I still have no idea how he could have attended the same business school as me, and yet not understand the impact government can have on business, good or bad – small business in particular.  Time had not treated him well.  In fact, Diego Rivera comes to mind.  I recently watched Frida and it all came flooding back, much to my amusement.  The passion between Frida and Diego gets me every time.

Over the years, I’ve tried and tried to capture our friendship in writing, and I’ve never been able to do it well.  I once even brought an effort for critique, and the reaction of the men in my writing group still cracks me up.  Every last man in our group believed him to be gay.  All I have to say is this:  If he is indeed gay, he didn’t know it himself at the time.  The last I knew, he had a Mexican girlfriend and lived in California.

I can’t help but think of him every time I watch Casablanca, particularly the line “We’ll always have Paris.”  Indeed.  We’ll always have Merida, Madrid, and Puebla.

Home Again

Fun sign on Grove Road, just before Crystal Creek Campground
Photo Credit: Lindsey Russell

These last few weeks have been eventful, and frankly, fun.  While my parents were in Ireland, I house sat for them.  First, I love my parents’ house.  It is comfortable and, next to my own house, is a space where I can just be myself.  Housesitting for my parents during the early part of the fall means checking our Crystal Creek Campground as well.  Crystal Creek is adjacent to my parents’ house.  In fact, the house – my home from ages 3 to 18 – sits behind our store.  It is hard to separate the two.

My favorite part of Crystal Creek Campground
Photo Credit: Lindsey Russell

There is something about the empty campground, with the promise of fall in the air, that gets me every time.  It is gorgeous and my favorite time of year.  I can’t help but think of all the time I spent playing in the campground as a child after the campers left for the season.  The land itself is forever a part of me.

Another view of my favorite part of Crystal Creek Campground
Photo Credit: Lindsey Russell

During the great shutdown of 2020, I lived with my parents.  It didn’t make sense for me to live alone at a time when no one knew how long it would last.  Those days were largely a challenge for a variety of reasons, but the campground helped.  Even though we had no idea when would be able to open up for Summer 2020, my parents and I spent time getting the campground ready.  It was something tangible we could do.  Mom and I picked up sticks and garbage daily while my dad and brother took care of most of the brush.  It gave me a new appreciation for the land and the river, especially after we had the 500 year flood in May 2020 and rebuilt to open in mid-June.

Crystal Creek Landing
Photo Credit: Lindsey Russell

But, home is so much more than just my parents’ or my home.  Last weekend, I had the opportunity to return to Michigan State’s unrivaled campus – the home of some of my best memories.  My brother, sister, sister-in-law, and I made sure my nephews and niece had a great first experience at Spartan Stadium.  While wonderful in many ways, unfortunately my niblings didn’t get to see the Spartans win.  Still, just being on campus brought back so many memories – the kind of memories that can only be relived when you’re home.

The view from Spartan Staduium, Saturday, September 24th, 2022
Photo Credit: Lindsey Russell

Giving Back: Michigan State Edition

Beaumont Tower MSU.png

Ever since I left MSU’s beautiful campus a few days after my graduation on April 30th, 2004, I’ve longed to give back to my fellow Spartans.  My years at Michigan State were among the best of my life, and that is due to the wonderful opportunities I had as an undergrad.  Not only did I heavily participate in study abroad and alternative spring break programs, I later worked as a peer advisor in the Office of Study Abroad, now Office of Education Abroad.

Through the umbrella Multicultural Business Programs (MBP) organization, I became an active member of Multicultural Business Students (MBS), eventually serving as publicity chair on the executive board, and the Women in Business Association.  In fact, my connections to MBP goes back even further to the summer after my junior year of high school.  That summer, I attended the Broad Business Student Camp (BBSC) (created and run by MBP), and I fell in love.  I fell in love with Michigan State’s campus and what I envisioned my college life could be.

BBSC wasn’t the only factor in my decision to attend MSU, but it left a powerful impression.  A few years later, I served as a camp counselor for BBSC thanks to arrangements made with my employer at the time, IBM.  When I arrived on campus in August 1999, eagerly pushing my parents’ out the door, I already had a home on one of the largest college campuses in the United States: MBP.  This is just a snippet of some of the opportunities I took advantage of while at MSU.  It is now time to give back.

Even though I wanted to give back, I am not in a position to give monetarily at the moment, nor do I think that would be the best way to do so.  Fortunately, I happened to stumble across a couple of great opportunities.

The Alumni Wisdom Project

Article Describing Eli Broad College of Business Alumni Wisdom Project – By Lindsey Andrews

In fall 2017, as an alum of the Eli Broad College of Business, I received an email outlining the Alumni Wisdom Project.  In short, the project, a component of a communications course on campus, pairs current MSU business students with Broad alumni.  It is meant to be a one-time face-to-face or Skype informational interview focusing on career and experiences at MSU.  Students then complete the assignment for class and share what they have written with alumni.  I loved my first experience, so I signed up for another.  It is exactly the type of experience I was looking for that would allow me to somehow give back to current MSU students.

Spartans Helping Spartans

I only learned of Spartans Helping Spartans a few months ago when I responded to David Isbell’s LinkedIn comment asking if there were MSU alums who were interested in reconnecting with the university.  Dave Isbell works in alumni relations at MSU.  I met him online several years ago when I first moved back to Michigan.

After my initial interest in reconnecting with MSU, Dave and I spoke on the phone.  He described the idea behind his website Spartans Helping Spartans – alumni sharing their experiences with current MSU students in an informal podcast format.  I was hooked.  In our conversation, he told me that he remembered a little about my background, and I filled him in on what I am currently doing.  Next thing I know, he interviewed me for the podcast and my first podcast was born.  Check it out below.

Lindsey Russell – Educator.  Entrepreneur.  Aspiring Writer.

There is much more to come.  I am currently writing a series of blog posts highlighting study abroad for Spartans Helping Spartans.  I will share them once they are on the website.  In addition, I have had such positive feedback from this podcast, I am toying with the idea of creating a podcast myself.  Stay tuned.  All because I said yes.

MSU Botanical Garden.jpg

Beal Botanical Garden – Michigan State University, East Lansing, Michigan

MSU Spartan Girl

Memories: The Impact 89 FM @ 30


I may have only ever broadcast on The Fix, but my short stint as a DJ during my senior year at Michigan State left a lasting impression.  My only regret:  I didn’t get involved earlier (as in as soon as I hit MSU’s campus as a freshman).  I came across this video created for The Impact’s 30th anniversary, and it brought back all kinds of wonderful memories.

The Fix is the online training radio station for The Impact 89 FM:  MSU’s student radio station.

As soon as I watched the video, I thought of how much fun I had playing Modest Mouse, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, the Strokes, My Chemical Romance, the White Stripes – among so many others.  I thought of all the late nights and early mornings I put in just for pure fun.  Count me among the many misfits that just loved music.  They give us a shout out in the video.  How did I forget how much I love alternative?  This list sums up some of my favorites from high school and college.

 

MSU and Memories

Alumni Bricks

Dear D., Continued – Revisited

Dear D. – Revisited

I’ve struggled for nearly two months to write this post.  It is time.  Back in mid-June, I spent the afternoon in East Lansing with my friend Lauri.  While it was not our only intent, we sought the memorial brick my cousin Lugene’s family placed on campus in her memory.  If it weren’t for Lugene, Lauri and I probably would have never met.  Spending time with Lauri searching for Lugene’s memorial brick seemed fitting.  After all, as dedicated genealogists, Lauri and Lugene spent countless days researching in Michigan cemeteries.  Here we were searching for Lugene.

When we did finally locate her memorial brick, it completely caught me off-guard.  It is located near the gardens where I found myself on a first date with a guy I dated briefly while at MSU – a very fun first date.  I had completely forgotten.  While MSU is far too big for me to legitimately say that I have a memory in every part of campus, I certainly have my share.  They all seemed to come flooding back to the point where I couldn’t keep up.

What it comes down to is this:  I need to visit my alma mater more often.  I avoided MSU after my friend Derrick died back in 2009, and Lugene’s death made it even worse.  Lugene took pride in her MSU alum status, and it was a part of her personality.  As much fun as I had visiting, I also felt out of sorts.  I hope one day I will be able to visit without feeling such a sense of loss.

I’ve finally concluded that it isn’t just the loss of Derrick and Lugene that I was feeling that day.  I also mourned the loss of the college girl I once was.  While I wouldn’t quite say that I was fearless as a freshman, I came close.  I thought nothing of pursuing whatever my heart desired while at MSU.  What happened?  Maybe I can find her once again.

The links above lead to posts I wrote concerning Derrick.

Derrick and I – April 2000

cropped-puebla

The girl I once was – 2002

#MeToo

Over the last week, I’ve loosely followed the Nassar case.  While I couldn’t stomach listening to the testimony of his victims, clearly several institutions and people in positions of power (I would not call them leaders by any stretch of the imagination) failed dozens of women and girls.  Sadly, that includes Michigan State University.  The resignation of MSU’s president and athletic director is a start, but it certainly isn’t enough.  Hopefully MSU will have a largely new board of trustees after November.

What angers me more than anything is the attitude of disbelief that seems to surround allegations of sexual assault victims (up to and including rape), particularly when there is an imbalance of power between victim and alleged perpetrator.  This seems to get to the heart of the issue in the Nassar case.  At one time he was a respected physician, how could these allegations possibly be true?

If anyone thinks that this is an issue confined to MSU, USA gymnastics, or college sports in general, think again.  As far as I am concerned, what happened at MSU could have happened on any college campus on any given day.  That is where the real change needs to happen.  Unfortunately, we live in a society that continues to look the other way when it comes to sexual assault, sends severely mixed messages to young men and women about sex, and all too often blames the victim.  That is where the #MeToo movement comes in.  I do hope it encourages victims of sexual assault to come forward.

If anything positive comes out of the #MeToo movement, it will be an increased awareness that sexual assault is more common than most people would like to believe.  There is a widely quoted statistic that one out of four college women will be sexually assaulted in her lifetime (you can find more information at oneinfourusa.org).  A couple of years ago, a male professor at Saginaw Valley State University asked our class – a class of future secondary social studies teachers – if we felt that the statistic was accurate.  Every single woman raised her hand.  The reason our professor asked is because he didn’t believe the statistics and felt that they had to be greatly exaggerated.  He didn’t say a word after almost every single person in the classroom raised his or her hand.

Sexual assault is a major issue that needs to be addressed in our society.  Nothing will change until those who covered it up and enabled the abuse are punished as well.  If nothing else, maybe MSU can be held up as an example on how not to handle sexual assault allegations.  I would have thought the same thing after what happened at Penn State though.  What will it take for our society to change?  There have been too many men and women whose lives have been ruined already.

There is so much more I could say here.  I’ve struggled all week with how to approach this topic.  I do hope that all Nassar’s victims eventually find healing.  Thank you to all of those who testified against him.  As a proud MSU alum, it has been difficult to watch those in a position of leadership at my beloved alma mater be so thoroughly tone deaf.  That must change.  Now.