A Big-City Ag High School Blossoms

It’s just after lunch at Milwaukee Vincent, and students are settling into their two-hour Advanced Animal Science class. Using their fingers to write on an electronic whiteboard, they quickly assign themselves animal care tasks. There is much to keep them busy.

While some kids clean the rabbit and chinchilla cages, others try to hold the hedgehog without getting pricked or feed the 1,000 crickets purchased for conducting breeding experiments. (They eat fresh vegetables.) The classroom is abuzz—not with the beehives located a few hundred yards away outside—but with talk about the newest member of the menagerie, a goat named Susan. A half dozen students head out to the pole shed that now accommodates Susan’s pen. Water sloshes out of the five-gallon buckets students pull in a wagon toward the goat, the 26 chickens and the two ducks. The refrigerator is already full of eggs, but kids find seven more under one broody bird.

Forty-two buses bring students to the 70-acre North Side campus from all parts of Milwaukee. While the school was built in the late ’70s to focus on international studies, agribusiness and natural resources, it has strayed from that specialization over the past few decades.

But new life is being breathed into the school’s original mission, in part due to the infusion of funding through a USDA grant obtained by the University of Wisconsin–Madison to develop an agricultural curriculum at the high school. This, plus four new ag teachers and a principal who is dedicated to the school’s agricultural roots, are starting to turn things around.

“Agriculture may sound like an unusual choice for a big-city high school, but our expansive campus and, more importantly, significant career opportunities in the field, make for a strong match,” says principal Daryl Burns. “All the agricultural pathways help students build the skills needed for in-demand STEM careers and the skills needed for success in almost any career, as well as in college and in life.”

Each freshman is required to take a yearlong Introduction to Agricultural Sciences class. Students can then pursue four different pathways: Animal Science, Horticulture Science, Food Science and Environmental Science. A three-room greenhouse is back in use, and an enormous vegetable garden, chicken coop, animal room, apiary and aquaponics facility in which fish and plants are grown together have been added.

And the school has been renamed Vincent Agricultural High School. Gail Kraus, an agricultural outreach specialist, is helping the Milwaukee Public Schools initiative to see Vincent grow into its new name. Now in her fourth year there, she is funded through the CALS-based Dairy Coordinated Agricultural Project grant.

“This transformation will provide Vincent students the opportunity to engage in hands-on learning that builds the necessary knowledge and skills for one of Wisconsin’s largest industries,” says Kraus.

Much of the inspiration for bringing the school back to its roots comes from CALS agronomy professor Molly Jahn, who had visited and was impressed by the Chicago High School for Agricultural Science (CHSAS). There, students clamor for enrollment space because of its curriculum and reputation as a safe school that promotes academic excellence.

“We want Vincent to be as desirable to attend as CHSAS,” says Jahn. “Through the new ag curriculum, students may be prepared for jobs right out of high school or go on to college to study things they would not otherwise have been exposed to. I envision the day when the ag curriculum at Vincent will be used as a model for other urban high schools in Wisconsin and elsewhere.”

Some Vincent students have completed the college application process. Jeremy Shelly, a senior who is a member of the National Honor Society, wants to become a veterinarian. Dawson Yang is aiming for UW–Green Bay.

“I took the Intro to Environmental Sciences class here and loved it,” says Yang, who also likes to hunt, fish and camp. “I want to study environmental sciences and maybe one day work for the Department of Natural Resources.”

Lactation Sensation

WHEN THE CITY GIRL decides to study lactation, she must first learn to milk a cow. Laura Hernandez, an assistant professor of dairy science at CALS, remembers that lesson.

Her tutor that day was Jessica Cederquist, then a fellow grad student and now CALS herd manager. “People who have never milked are used to what you see in the movies,” Cederquist explains. You know the choreography: grab a teat, pull down, milk squirts into the bucket. But that technique simply squeezes milk back into the udder. And just about everybody makes the mistake. “It is a rite of passage to stand back and laugh,” she admits.

“She thought it was very funny,” Hernandez recalls. “I think that was the beginning of a very good friendship.”

The milking got a little crazier once Hernandez ramped up her inquiries into how lactation works. Her first experiments required milking two halves of the same cow, comparing milk production. Because she was pairing the front right with the back left and vice versa, she had to replumb two half milkers, using a surplus of hoses and buckets. She’d also recently had knee surgery.

“You’re already kind of crowded in there and now you’ve got her fancy contraption and all of her buckets and a big old knee brace,” says Cederquist. And it’s a waterbed stall, so every time anybody moves, the floor moves, and the buckets yaw precariously. “She’s darn near laying on the floor under the cow, trying to figure out how she’s going to get this thing to stay on.”

Hernandez is still making things unusual for Cederquist. Lactation is a delicate enough phenomenon that the typical dairy farmer puts animals who are in the late stages of pregnancy on vacation. This is exactly when Hernandez needs to poke and prod, monitor and manipulate.

The hassle seems worth the reward: Her exploration of the role of serotonin in lactation has the potential to significantly improve animal health and boost milk production. There may also be profound lessons about the role of serotonin in human health. While seratonin was once considered the miracle molecule of mental health, Hernandez is helping unravel its role in many more parts of the body.

“There is still an infinite box of things it probably does that we can’t understand,” says Hernandez. Which is all the more interesting because it’s such a simple molecule, just a modified amino acid. It’s as if a Lego block were able to control a nuclear reactor. “I really am just completely fascinated by how a modified amino acid can regulate what feels like the universe at times,” Hernandez says.

On the road between Hernandez’s hometown of El Paso, Texas, and the New Mexico State University campus in Las Cruces, a line of dairy farms stretches across the landscape. Despite her urban upbringing, the cows fascinated her. “As an athlete I was like: how does she do that?” recalls Hernandez, then a scholarship swimmer. “I just thought they were really cool animals, what they could do from a biological standpoint.”

Drawn to biology, Hernandez chose animal science over straight biology because she was more interested in working with mammals than with crabs and nematodes. But her real immersion didn’t begin until her senior year, when she transferred to New Mexico State from Iowa State University. In Ames her swimming schedule had kept her out of the lab, but that changed when she got to Las Cruces.

“I loved working in the lab,” says Hernandez. “That was where I found my home.” When she couldn’t decide between professional schools, she continued at New Mexico State to earn a master’s degree in animal science and toxicology.

In 2005 she started her doctorate at the University of Arizona with Bob Collier, a physiologist in the dairy sciences. He was interested in how genes interacted with the environment, and lactation was the ideal process to study: genetically programmed, but initiated and controlled by changes in the environment of the cow.

The year before Hernandez arrived, the small world of lactation science had been upended by the unexpected discovery that serotonin, long considered simply a neurotransmitter, also had a role in regulating lactation. Collier reached out to Nelson Horseman at the University of Cincinnati, where the discovery had been made. Horseman studied breast development, but his central interest was breast cancer. Collier offered his dairy expertise and suggested that they collaborate on expanding this discovery from the mouse to the cow.

Hernandez undertook the research for her dissertation, supervising many of the active experiments. Deeper she went, her work encompassing an intense collaboration into the complex molecular underpinnings of milk production.

After finishing her Ph.D. she began a postdoc in Horseman’s lab. One day in Cincinnati, Gerard Karsenty, a geneticist visiting from Columbia University, presented his research involving gut serotonin, calcium and bone mass. Afterward Hernandez turned to Horseman and wondered aloud: If gut serotonin had a role in bone mass, could this also help explain its role in lactation?

Nursing typically requires more calcium than diet alone can provide, and the difference comes from the mother’s bone. A nursing mouse will lose up to 20 percent of bone mass in 21 days. Human mothers can lose 6 to 10 percent of their bone mass over six months. Studies in West Africa and Korea suggest that the longer a woman breast-feeds, the lower her bone density.

It’s not surprising that serotonin might have more than one role in the body. Along with dopamine it’s the oldest known hormone, and nature loves to reuse its creations. In fact, serotonin first evolved in plants. Plants have no nervous system, so it couldn’t have been a neurotransmitter. How a simple molecule engages in complex processes is by acting as a molecular key in many different cellular locks. Scientists have now identified 20 different serotonin receptors. The mammary gland alone has five.

So how to uncover serotonin’s role in withdrawing calcium from bone? Scouring some old genetic assays, Hernandez found a likely ally: parathyroid hormone-related protein (or PTHrP). Her initial tests were so strong that she suspected her equipment was off.

But further experiments confirmed that serotonin was causing an increase in PTHrP in the mammary gland during lactation. This, in turn, was a key signal liberating calcium from bone for the mammary glands.

Hernandez’s research portfolio made her an obvious match when a position opened at CALS. As a newly hired professor in 2011, her first question was obvious: Could she leverage our knowledge of PTHrP in the dairy cow?

Lactation is hard, and one of the biggest problems faced by dairy farmers is the “transition cow,” a cow in the three weeks before and after calving. Between the physiologic stress of birth and the metabolic stress of commencing lactation, for the first 20 to 30 days of lactation the cow is expending more energy than she can take in.

Calcium complicates things, as it takes a couple of days to activate the mechanism that borrows from the bone. Sometimes that leads to a calcium deficit—or hypocalcemia, also knownas milk fever. Because calcium is critical for biological functions, assisting with everything from muscle contraction to immune function, a shortage can lead to a variety of potential health problems including ketosis, displaced abomasum and retained placenta. Gut issues can arise because the intestines aren’t contracting. Reduced immune function leaves the cows more susceptible to mastitis.

“That’s a precarious time frame for them,” Hernandez says. “If you have a calcium problem, other issues compound.”

It’s a daily concern for dairy farms. Even on a very good farm, 3 to 5 percent of the animals are going to wind up with milk fever. Scaled up to a 10,000-herd farm, that means one or two affected cows every day.

“Not every farmer is going to automatically relate to Hernandez’s deep molecular work,” says herd manager Jessica Cederquist. But put it in terms of milk fever and the transition cow, and “every dairy farmer on the planet knows what that means,” she says.

With startup money tight and a big idea, Hernandez developed an ambitious research agenda. She found a collaborator in Jimena Laporta, a graduate student fresh from Uruguay. Laporta read the plan and committed the very next day. “We were throwing all of the chips on the table and hoping for a win,” says Hernandez.

The idea was simple: Could you boost PTHrP levels with nutritional supplements? They fed rats two amino acids—5-hydroxytryptophan (abbreviated as 5-HTP) and straight tryptophan. Both are chemical precursors in the synthesis of serotonin.

They began with rats, and feeding was the easy part. The hard part? They also had to milk them. Forty-five rats. Every day. How do you milk a rat?

After knocking it out with sleeping gas, you inject a minute quantity of the hormone oxytocin. A small suction device evacuates the teats; each animal has 10. It was a time-consuming, two-person job. Hernandez and Laporta sacrificed weekends and postponed professional travel. Eventually they got the process down to about an hour and a half.

The 5-HTP worked. Then they confirmed that it works in the cow via IV infusion. Now the lab is working on developing a cow feed that accomplishes the same thing.

Meanwhile, on the molecular level they were focusing on how the serotonin was actually affecting the mammary gland and how it translated into the chemical signals that drive bone resorption. In addition to the PTHrP they identified a gene—already nicknamed sonic hedgehog—as another link in the chain in collaboration with researchers Chad Vezina and Robert Lipinski at the UW–Madison School of Veterinary Medicine.

“It’s a very big picture of a very small molecule,” says Laporta, now teaching at the University of Florida. “Nobody knew that serotonin could do all these things. I think we opened a black box.”

Repeat: lactation is hard. Hernandez became a mother in the first year of her professorship, and nursing was as fulfilling as it was excruciating. She was lactating, she was teaching about lactation, she was manipulating lactation. Under the grueling stress of a new research program she took only nine days of maternity leave.

One day in mid-February her husband came home to find Hernandez crying on the bathroom floor. She couldn’t find time to pump, and her hair was falling out. He suggested it might be time to stop nursing. She’d made it seven months under a colossal workload. They still had some milk stored to facilitate transition to the bottle. “But I want to make it a year,” Hernandez objected. “I’m a lactation biologist! I must!”

“It was so hard,” she reiterates. “It’s made me even more of an advocate for helping women after they give birth. That’s where my biggest interest is: The mother’s ability to deal with lactation and to do so healthily for herself while also taking care of her baby.”

And so Hernandez has forged into human health. As the role of serotonin beyond brain chemistry continues to unfold, obvious questions arise. Selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors, or SSRIs, now dominate the antidepressant market and include such household names as Prozac, Paxil and Zoloft. Among their side effects is a decrease in bone density. Nursing also decreases bone density. With 12 percent of pregnant women taking SSRIs, does the combination of SSRIs and nursing set these women up for severe bone health issues later in life?

Most studies that looked at nursing and SSRIs focused on the infant. “Almost nothing out there looks at the long-term implications for the mother,” reports Sam Weaver, a third-year Ph.D. student in Hernandez’s lab. Weaver began as an undergraduate in the lab, assisting Laporta with her milking. Now Weaver supervises her own mouse dairy as she tries to untangle the precise impact of SSRIs on lactation and the health of the mother.

Weaver harvests more than milk. The mice are dissected with precise determination as blood, mammary glands, kidneys, intestines and bone tissue are examined for health and their reactivity to serotonin. Their femur bones are sent off to a collaborator in Boston for specialized imaging.

“Can we somehow help women breast-feed but also stay on their medication, and help them avoid some of these long-term bone issues?” asks Hernandez. She hopes to begin working with human populations soon.

Now that the lab has characterized the complexity of serotonin in lactation, the team is trying to get a handle on its role as one of the body’s master regulators. Only about 2 percent of serotonin actually resides in the brain; the vast majority circulates throughout the rest of the body. “We’re finding it popping up in all sorts of places,” says Weaver.

A newer project is working on yet another serotonin-lactation connection. Obese women tend to have higher serotonin levels—and they also have a harder time initiating nursing. This suggests yet another crucial role for serotonin as a regulator of energy balance in the body. By unlocking its role, they hope to find a way to make nursing easier for these mothers.

The legacy of Wisconsin is so milk-soaked it can be hard to remember that lactation still holds mystery and marvel. It’s a unique biological process that has given up its secrets slowly, and there is still much to learn. Experiments with a wide variety of mammals have shown that as long as you keep removing milk, the gland will keep making it.

Though she’s unlocked some of the secrets behind this apparent superpower, Hernandez remains entranced: “It just fascinates me that it can continue to do that.”

It’s not a stretch to call lactation one of the more significant developments in the evolution of life on this planet. The expanded ability to feed our young has allowed mammals to adapt to a wide array of variations in our environment. “Keep the baby alive,” says Hernandez. “I think it ties back to that, making us better mothers.” Our human accomplishments are stamped with an indelible mammalian signature.

Hernandez’s peculiar dairy, with its few hundred mice and few dozen patient cows, keeps producing under the labors of a handful of motivated students. “Sometimes it’s overwhelming, and it feels like we’re not getting anywhere and we’re not going to get anywhere,” Hernandez says. “Because with every answer comes another question.”

Even as she continues her fine-scale investigations, Hernandez hopes that young farmers can go back to their dairies and incorporate some wonder into our conversations about animal agriculture.

As Hernandez and dairy farmers know, when it comes to a cow’s well-being, milk is a marker.

“If cows are not being fed properly, or taken care of properly or housed properly, they are not going to make a lot of milk,” Hernandez says. “That’s a basic mammalian response. That should tell you something about the welfare of the animals.”

Daughters of Demeter Celebrate 100

In Greek mythology, Demeter is the goddess of the harvest and agriculture, presiding over the fertility of the earth. And in that spirit, members of a century-old nonprofit called Daughters of Demeter perform community service and award scholarships and grants to CALS students to ensure that agriculture and the college remain strong.

Daughters of Demeter was formed in 1917 by a group of women whose spouses were on CALS faculty. Since then, the organization has expanded membership to welcome all faculty, staff and friends of the college and recently invited its first male member. The group now has some 120 members and hopes to increase membership during its centennial year.

A Daughters of Demeter loan fund was established in 1944 with a $25 gift; soon after, the group established a scholarship fund. Student scholarship support has grown over the years, and, in the last decade, the organization has awarded more than $300,000 in scholarships and grants to CALS students and student organizations.

“The Daughters of Demeter are consistently one of the most generous annual donors to CALS scholarship funds, and a subgroup has sewn thousands of hats and scarves annually donated to University of Wisconsin cancer patients,” notes Daughters of Demeter president Liz Henry BS’83, an emeritus CALS academic staff member.

But there’s no pressure for members to participate in all activities, notes Henry: “Members can join and be as involved as they choose and are not held to any more or less involvement than they are comfortable with.”

Janice Martin has been a member since 1983, became president in 1988 and has since chaired numerous committees, including the Annual Corn Roast Committee. She currently chairs a bulb-planting committee that plants more than 1,500 bulbs at Allen Centennial Garden each fall.

“I find the friendship and camaraderie in this organization, from working on committees to sewing cancer scarves once a month, to be a very important part of my life while serving UW–Madison,” says Martin, whose husband, A. Jeff Martin, is an emeritus professor of forest and wildlife ecology. “These members are a dedicated group, very generous in giving to our scholarships and grants, very dependable and willing to help when needed to provide the students in CALS with funds to continue their education. We also have a good time!”

Centennial events this spring include the Annual Meeting and Spring Luncheon on Wednesday, April 12 at Blackhawk Country Club (featuring CALS emeritus biochemistry professor David Nelson speaking on CALS history) and a Centennial Gala on Thursday, May 18 at Allen Centennial Garden. You can find more information about upcoming events on the group’s Facebook page.

To donate to Daughters of Demeter, visit http://supportuw.org/giveto/demeter

Ezra Schwartzberg

Ezra Schwatzberg

PhD’11 • Ezra Schwartzberg is the founder and director of Adirondack Research, an ecological and environmental consulting firm based in Saranac Lake, New York. Established in 2012, the firm focuses on social science, climate change and invasive species. The company’s tag lines—“We use science to inform decisions” and “We communicate science to influence policy”—describe its mission to use science for decisionmaking and for policy. Schwartzberg originally began his career in academia, with degrees from multiple universities around the country. It wasn’t until his postdoctoral research work at CALS that he gained the confidence to break off and start his own business, he says.

Class Act: Timothy Guthrie

Biochemistry senior Timothy Guthrie knows that science and success are about small steps. It’s those tiny strides that drive him to excel both in the lab and in the pole-vaulting pit.

Last summer Guthrie, a student athlete, earned a summer Biochemistry Undergraduate Summer Research Scholarship and spent lots of time in the lab of biochemistry professor Judith Kimble. There he worked, and continues to work, on making different mutations in a protein important for stem cell renewal.

“When I finally get something right in the lab that I’ve been working on for a month or two, it’s a really satisfying feeling,” says Guthrie, who plans to apply to medical school this summer.

Guthrie’s work allows the lab to better understand the molecular mechanism behind stem cell renewal in a tiny roundworm species called Caenorhabditis elegans, used as a model because their stem cells are easier to study than those in humans. Stem cell renewal is essential for the organism to keep producing cells it needs to develop and reproduce. By making different mutations to a protein important to this process, researchers can work to determine the role of the protein.

“The ultimate goal of stem cells is for therapeutic use, but we’ve got to work to understand the stem cells first—and the only way to do that is piece by piece,” says Guthrie. “That’s what Professor Kimble’s lab is doing.”

Getting involved in undergraduate research has helped Guthrie gain critical lab experience and also helped build connections between what he learns about in class and the experiments he performs in the lab.

“Along with knowledge of lab techniques and research, I’ve gained a better appreciation for the scientific discoveries we’ve already made,” he says. “All of those big successes and drugs we’ve discovered were made up of small steps like the ones I get to be a part of in the lab.”

Timothy Guthrie, Biochemistry senior, works with data on stem cells research.
Photo by: Robin Davies/UW–Madison MediaLab at Biochemistry

Michael Hillstrom

Michael Hillstrom

BS’03 PhD’09 • With a BS, a PhD, multiple research positions and postdoctoral work behind him, Michael Hillstrom has certainly put in his time at CALS. As a boy Hillstrom had always been fascinated with bugs, which made his decision to pursue a degree in entomology relatively easy. During his time at CALS he spent much of his free time volunteering for the Insect Ambassadors outreach program, which brings bug “show-and-tell” presentations to schools and other venues, and eventually he was elected program director. Through the Insect Ambassadors, Hillstrom discovered a passion for education and outreach. The experience also solidified his love for insects and the outdoors. Upon graduation, Hillstrom took a position as a forest health specialist with the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources. There he works in the diverse forests of Wisconsin to control insects and diseases across Wisconsin and serves as a public leader for insect management.

Patrick “PJ” Liesch

PJ Liesch

MS’10 • Patrick “PJ” Liesch—better known as Wisconsin’s “bug guy”—received his master’s degree in entomology from CALS in 2010 and worked as a research associate on campus. After Phil Pellitteri, the legendary king of insect diagnostics, retired in 2014, Liesch took on the position. As director of the UW–Madison Insect Diagnostic Lab, Liesch completes a variety of duties including communicating insect information to the public and acting as a bug identification guru to curious residents and businesses from all over Wisconsin. Liesch estimates that he tackles more than 2,000 cases per year. Liesch also serves as an instructor with the Wisconsin Master Gardener Program and the Wisconsin Pesticide Applicator Training program as well as with Farm and Industry Short Course. As part of his public outreach work, Liesch is a regular guest on Wisconsin Public Radio’s Larry Meiller Show.

Rachel Mallinger

Rachel Mallinger

MS’09 PhD’15 • Rachel Mallinger discovered her interest in insects as a biology major. An undergraduate research project involved pest control, which introduced her to entomology, a field that combined many of her passions. In 2009 Mallinger came to Madison, where she completed an MS in agroecology and entomology and a PhD in entomology. Mallinger is now doing postdoctoral work with the USDA as a research scientist in the sunflower entomology lab in Fargo, North Dakota. There she works with sunflower breeders in order to make the flowers more attractive to pollinators. When she’s not observing bees, Mallinger takes care of her six-month-old son, works in her vegetable garden and tries to squeeze in some of her earlier pastimes, including dancing, hiking and cross-country skiing.

Anthony Orth

Anthony Orth

BS’93 PhD’00 • As an undergraduate, Orth was inspired by entomology professor Walter Goodman and proceeded to write an honor’s thesis about the work being done in his lab. “I learned resourcefulness, resiliency and independence of mind because it was largely just Walt and me and a few other students,” says Orth. He remained on campus and completed a doctorate in entomology before discovering his interest in genomics. He also met his future wife, Elisabeth Gardiner PhD’00, and ventured with her to San Diego, Calif., where they both landed jobs focused on human biology. Orth works for Novartis, a multinational pharmaceutical company, where he sifts through the human genome seeking new therapeutic targets for human disease. Though his work today does not directly pertain to entomology, Orth says that the whole-organism CALS training he received was invaluable and that the methods he utilizes today directly relate to what he learned.

Elisabeth Gardiner

Elisabeth Gardiner

PhD’00 • Elisabeth Gardiner began her training in entomology as a PhD student in CALS. “It was my hope that I could learn some really cool techniques in a lab focused on human biology and bring those techniques back to entomology,” she says. While at CALS she met her future husband, Anthony Orth PhD’00, and gave birth to their first child before completing her doctorate. During her postdoctoral fellowship with the Scripps Research Institute in San Diego, Calif., and her first industry job, Gardiner learned that her training in entomology could be directly applied to human biology, which unlocked a world of opportunity. Today Gardiner works as the chief science officer at Meditope Biosciences in San Diego, where she focuses on developing antibody therapeutics to target and eliminate cancer.

Christine Buhl

Christine Buhl

PhD’13 • Christine Buhl discovered her passion for entomology as an undergraduate at Oregon State University. “There was a moment when I looked at a small, seemingly innocuous wasp under a microscope for the first time and saw a complex world of body armor, colors and textures, and just felt the need to explore more,” says Buhl. She came to Madison to earn her PhD in entomology and begin her diverse career path. Over the years she has worked for universities in Oregon, Texas and Wisconsin, with the U.S. Department of Agriculture, the U.S. Geological Survey, county public health departments, and various environmental consulting groups. Currently Buhl is back in Oregon working as the state forest entomologist at the Oregon Department of Forestry. Her main focus is providing technical assistance regarding insects and diseases found in urban and forest trees and conducting aerial and ground surveys of damage.

Ashley Bennett

Ashley Bennett

PhD’09 • With a PhD in entomology followed by numerous postdoctoral research positions, Bennett’s passion for entomology remains strong. Her early research at CALS focused on conserving beneficial insects in urban landscapes, an area of study and practice she continues today as an urban IPM and small farms extension specialist at New Mexico State University. Her favorite part of her job is educating homeowners on how they can create a comfortable coexistence between people and bugs in order to benefit local landscapes, prevent harmful pests and protect valuable insect populations. Her job includes a lot of outdoor activities, but Bennett’s love for nature continues even outside of her career. In her free time she enjoys hiking, biking, insect photography and tending to her family’s 30-acre tall grass prairie.