My first memories, which seem more like pastoral dreams today, are of living a Huckleberry Finn-like existence on my family's farm in Northern British Columbia, Canada. I remember playing in the forest, picking berries and swimming and fishing in the old Mud River that ran through our acreage. There were snowstorms, bright-water summertime laughter by the riverbank, farm animals, our big yellow dog, and warm fireside evenings in the log cabin that my dad built. Our farm was adjacent to land occupied by the Carrier Indian tribe, and my parents--who gave me the middle name David as a tip of the hat to Henry David Thoreau--were part of an organic food co-op, where folk music seemed a constant soundtrack. Given those early foundational experiences, I suppose the origins of my reverence for nature, folklore and the traditions of native cultures are no surprise.

Shortly after my fourth birthday, my parents decided to pull up stakes and move--the first of several relocations, each of which exposed me to increasingly urban landscapes and diverse cultures. In less than 10 years, I transitioned from Mud River, a sleepy town with a population of less than 100 people; to Fort McMurray, an oil town in the tundra; to Calgary, a midsize city near the Canadian Rockies; to Los Angeles County, a megalopolis spanning a vast network cities and cultural enclaves. As an adult, my career as a journalist necessitated moves to the Bay Area, Washington, D.C., and Portland, Oregon. Living in such a wide range of environments over the years helps me identify first-hand, not theoretically, with the unique realities in rural, small town, urban, and suburban communities.

I view writing as a way of giving voice to the voiceless and shedding light upon ‘inconvenient’ societal truths. This belief is what compelled me to pursue a career in journalism after graduating from UCLA in 1997. During my 10 years as a reporter and editor, I faced numerous situations where I had one of two choices: play it safe or take a risk for the community at stake. I opted to take risks and am grateful that, in almost all instances, my editors and publishers stood by my decisions, which I credit largely to the fact that I chose to work for independent publications.

While working as a journalist, I also tried to promote social justice and civic engagement via grassroots leadership. To that end, I co-founded the ReThinking Greater Long Beach conference series, which convenes concerned citizens, scholars, and journalists to generate innovative solutions to some of the most pressing concerns facing south Los Angeles County. Organizing the conference gave me the distinct pleasure of working with emeritus UCLA Professor Alex Norman, an African American activist whose main focus is ending police brutality in disadvantaged communities through establishing community-based policing systems. The conferences and a related journal I edited, entitled The Southlander, spurred policymakers to address issues, such as poverty, gentrification, pollution, and transportation that may have otherwise been ignored. The Southlander also gave me the opportunity to publish my short story, “Adventures of Jack Pine and the Mendicant,” which is based on research I conducted on the alarming presence of the Ku Klux Klan in Los Angeles County during the 1920s.

I view education as perhaps the most effective way of helping disadvantaged members of society, and I have witnessed how it can change lives and instill hope. During the time I served as Erin Gruwell’s teaching assistant—when she was establishing the “Freedom Writers” program—I witnessed how she used literature and writing to engage socially and economically disenfranchised students to tell their own stories. I vividly remember working with Gruwell’s students, helping them write their personal stories about coming of age, challenges with gangs, struggles with poverty, family hardships, and many other poignant issues. I believe writing those stories proved cathartic for those young students because it let them voice challenges in their own lives, in many cases for the first time.

Years later, I drew upon Gruwell’s rare combination of compassion and inspiration when I established curriculum and computer systems for a technology and training center at a long-term transitional homeless shelter in Portland, Oregon. Working in a social services environment helped me better appreciate why people become homeless and how difficult a condition it is to reverse without the necessary counseling, retraining, and resources.

Since returning to graduate school, I have drawn upon my past experiences as a teacher, journalist, engaged citizen, and father in my scholastic endeavors. In addition to my coursework, I have strived to continue promoting social justice. In concert with fellow students I organized an intercampus, student-faculty coalition to create a graduate course and two-day symposium on the legacy of Martin Luther King, Jr., which will convene King scholars and civil rights-era artists to imagine what Dr. King would say about the U.S. domestically and internationally if he were alive today. Working on this effort is extremely important to me and has reinforced my enthusiasm for my ultimate career objective: to work as a scholar who serves as a force for positive social change within and beyond the academy.