16 ForOregonState.org/Stater VO I C E S P R O F I L E FIRST PERSON A windswept cumulus cloud rises behind the herd,silhouetting theirbroad backs.“It looks like a photo from the 1950s,” someone comments. “There’s your picture,” Johns says.“You’ve got the bison,and the ridge, the clouds and the sun. That’s sweet.” On cue, shutters start snapping. Millions of bison once grazed the prairies of North America. However, to make way for westward expansion, the U.S. government encouraged their mass slaughter until only a handful remained. Reintroduction e"orts helped them recover, a fact obvious to anyone who has been stuck waiting for a herd to cross the road. But what you see doesn’t tell the whole tale, explains David Quammen, author of acclaimed books including Yellowstone: A Journey Through America’s Wild Heart. Over dinner, he talks about habitat fragmentation. Barriers, like highways or fences, chop up the landscape, making it hard for animals to access resources. As tourists, we could have ignored the conflicts surrounding the park, and limited our perspectives to the perfectly framed photograph. Instead, we embraced them: asking questions and listening to stories that challenged our preexisting beliefs. This curiosity solidified our diverse group as Beavers (although dam-building beavers pulled a noshow) and revealed the true nature of Oregon Staters as lifelong learners, adventurers, problem-solvers, scientists and storytellers. MEET EFIMYA KUZMIN A PUBLIC HEALTH MAJOR BALANCING TRADITION WITH VISION. By Gretchen Schrafft, MFA ’16 Shortly after COVID-19 arrived in Efimya Kuzmin’s hometown of Silverton, Oregon, her mother got sick. As a child, Kuzmin, who goes by Mya, saw her mother build a thriving restaurant business from the ground up. As a high school upperclassman, she watched a long-haul case of COVID force her mother to shut it down. ¶ As her peers rallied against the mask mandate and her mother’s symptoms refused to go away, Kuzmin thought about her love of science as she researched colle- ges. She could picture what she wanted to do, but she didn’t have a name for it yet. She also knew affording college would be a challenge. ¶ Kuzmin and her family are members of the Old Believer Orthodox community, descendants of Russian religious dissenters who refused to accept reforms imposed upon the Russian Orthodox Church in the 1600s. Old Believers form a small but significant subculture in Oregon — the largest concentration in the U.S. Members primarily work in flexible occupations like construction so they can observe frequent religious holidays. Men don’t cut their beards; women wear head coverings in church and long dresses; couples often marry in their teens. ¶ Oregon State offered Kuzmin the most aid, as well as the support of the Educational Opportunities Program, which she qualified for as a low-income, first-generation student. For more than 50 years, EOP (eop. oregonstate.edu) has championed stu- dents who have traditionally been denied equal access to higher education. ¶ As a sophomore, Kuzmin decided to give back, partnering with a faculty member to mentor five freshmen in the program. It was while working alongside College of Health instructor Ashley Vaughn, MPH ’21, that Kuzmin’s vision for her career crystalized. “I realized that the degree that I was really looking for was in public health. I just wasn’t aware that it was something that existed,” she said. ¶ She also credits EOP with helping her cultivate a philosophy that comfortably accom- modates her plans for the future alongside her love of her history and community — embracing the good and setting aside parts that hold her back. Like “the idea that a woman shouldn’t go to college,” she said. “That’s one that’s going to get left behind. ↖From left to right, author Lucinda Boyle with Doug Sheaffer, ’69, M.S. ’71, and Chris Johns, ’74, in Yellowstone National Park. ۄ Mya Kuzmin in the Linus Pauling Science Center in Corvallis. EFIMYA KUZMIN: KARL MAASDAM cont inued
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