Kyle Lunberg: Editor-in-Chief

Wow, does reflecting upon the last year seem like a monumental task. I came to PLNU with a lot of dreams (as many of us have). One of those dreams was to be editor of the cam­pus newspaper. This is one particular dream that came true, but dreams don’t ever tell the whole story.

For all the fun days in the of­fice, the days where we editors would crack jokes over pizza and discuss the varying degrees to which we have no lives, there were days and weeks of profound loneliness for me, days of depression, doubt and confusion.

These feelings are partly part of life, but they’re also the result of the pressures that come with serving this campus with a quality product every week. I may take my job too seriously sometimes, but I want you to know how deeply I’ve pondered the words and deeds of this community over the past year. I have experienced tears, laughter and entirely too many sleepless nights. Most important­ly, we have had some important conversations over the past year, and it has been my pleasure to help facilitate those conversations and bring some important issues to light.

So, if you’ve contributed to, been quoted in or simply read The Point Weekly this past year, I want to thank you and express what a true pleasure it has been to serve you. I pray we continue to hold each other accountable in making sure that all voices on this campus are heard. If we have done just a small part to contribute to this atmosphere of openness, then my job has been worth every second.

Abby Hamblin: News Editor

If there’s anything I’ve learned from coming back to this job and this campus after being on the East Coast for a semester, it’s that people matter and their stories are worth sharing. Living and working in Washington, D.C., I experienced an environment that focuses on issues and institutions rather than the people they involve or represent. PLNU is a place where the administrators and professors genuine­ly care about the students, and the stu­dents here genuinely care about each other. I’ve enjoyed sharing your stories this semester, but we’ve got a long way to go. I do, we all do. To wrestle with our individuality but also with our place in this community and to do it as we navigate our faith (or lack thereof) and our vocation and calling in life is a tough, tough task to face. But it comes down to relationships and sharing our stories with one another. I am inspired and encouraged by the conversation and debate that has taken place on our campus, but I know there’s more to be done. We must continue to share our stories and listen lovingly to our brothers and sisters as we deepen our opinions, but also open our minds. So with all that said, I just want to thank you all for sharing your stories with us, but also encourage you to share even more, especially with each other, so we can come to better understand each other here at PLNU and beyond.

Callie Radke: Features Editor

“Hey Callie, don’t you do some­thing for The Point Weekly?” I hear that question a lot. Usually, it makes me want to giggle (or hide, depend­ing on what scandal is being printed). Like the people who ask that question, I didn’t know exactly what that meant when I agreed to the position. And honestly, I’m not sure why I agreed to do it. I vaguely remember the words “resume” and “good experience” and I think it had something to do with Dean Nelson’s Jedi mind powers.

There were some hard times. It’s hard not to feel discouraged when you get scathing reviews and realize that a lot of people don’t bother reading what you’ve spent hours on. But the funny thing is, in the end I’m so ap­preciative for my stint in Features. Despite the dozens of times I gritted my teeth and growled out something like, “I hate The Point Weekly,” there was an experience here that I couldn’t have gotten anywhere else.

The late Sunday nights that de­volved into giddiness and bad Pho­toBooth pictures, the thrill of seeing someone reading a paper, the prob­lem solving of figuring out what ar­ticles to run – all of it is so unique to The Point Weekly. I’ve gotten to work backstage and see the show from a whole different angle. It’s made me realize how incredible this place re­ally is. Journalism may have gotten into my head, but it’s only gotten all of PLNU (even the bad parts) more deeply into my heart.

Jacob Roth: Sports Editor

Being of sound mind, I, Jacob Roth, execute my last will and tes­tament as Point Weekly Sports Editor and hereby bequeath all or part of the sports page to next year’s Sports Editor, Tavis Robertson.

The past two years at The Point Weekly have provided me with invaluable experience, un­forgettable memories and a host of new friends, all of which have helped me learn and grow as a writer as well as a human being.

Additionally, writing “Jake’s Take” has definitely been one of the most enjoyable aspects of my time here at PLNU. I feel a small burst of pride each time someone comes over on Caf lane and says, “Hey, good job on your column this week.” Hopefully I can keep it going next school year.

I’d love to keep serving you as the Sports Editor, but to be honest, I’m tired. At times it’s an incredibly stressful — albeit remarkably rewarding — job that requires hours of work, and, frankly, I’m ready to move on to other things.

Still, I wouldn’t trade the ex­periences for anything.

Ian Crane: A&E Editor

My time as A&E editor for The Point Weekly has been a journey. Defined by countless Demi Lovato, Beyoncé and Ke$ha jam sessions with @abbyhamblin; notes on notes on notes in my iPhone with story ideas; and the opportunity to spend every Mon­day afternoon with Dean Nelson, it has been fab (a dream?).

Even though I hate to say it, you’re all pretty exciting. I wish I could say that I spent all of my time hating on your #fashioncrimes, but I really only did that once. Most of my time is spent talking, writing and reading about the cool things you’re all doing in the arts and en­tertainment worlds.

You’re in bands that make re­ally inspiring music and you have recitals that feature original com­positions and you have exhibitions that push boundaries enough that I get to talk to cool people about censorship. Some of you are even doing such great things in the real world (it’s a scary place) that I get to interview you for stories on the significant things that PLNU alumni are doing in the art world. That’s why I like this job.

I like this job because you’re all so cool. I like it because it forc­es me to realize that I get to spend my time at PLNU with some really inspiring people. I like it because I get to pretend that I’m cool while relying on the things that you’re all doing. Thanks for that. Thanks for always being ex­citing and providing me with end­less inspiration, entertainment and story ideas.

Hana Eades: Opinion Editor

I’ve learned that three types of peo­ple walk toward trouble and emergen­cies: firemen, police and journalists.

I strive to fall into the journalist category. The trek through PLNU has, in my opinion, prepared me to accomplish this goal.

My years of working with The Point Weekly have been quite adven­turous. I’ve done many things outside of my comfort zone to get stories: I’ve spent days dressed as a homeless hippie in Ocean beach, gone door-to-door to talk to PLNU’s neighbors about parking situations and, as of most recently, I’ve followed the sound of police sirens toward the alleged ac­tive shooter in Liberty Station.

Being a part of The Point Weekly staff and the LJML department in gen­eral, I’ve been dropped into a new fam­ily, so-to-speak (I could not tell you how many hours of my college career have been spent chatting with Rachel in the office of Bond Academic Center).

Dean Nelson, my advisor, pro­fessor, mentor and Sunday school teacher, is a person I’d like to thank for helping me get through the thick and thin moments of life.

Now that I’m going to work for the school (call out for Physical Plant. Whoop whoop!), I am grateful to know that I have the department there for me if I ever need a listening ear.

PLNU, you’ve been great and I look forward to continuing to be a part of your community.

Lara Khodanian: Layout Editor

I began this semester with worries on how I would succeed as an artist and won­dered if any opportunities would ever come my way. The only hope I had was that God would somehow come through and pro­vide the way He always has. That was when it happened. It was a late Sunday night when I had a bitter feeling about being in the Volleyball Club and decided to leave tryouts an hour and a half early. Instead I visited a friend in The Point Weekly office where I met and chatted with the other edi­tors. The Layout Editor soon learned that I was a graphic design major and offered me her job for the following semester. In the following weeks and months, each Sun­day night was spent staring at a computer for 6-12 hours with much stress that was soon relieved with God-sent creativity and patience. It has been nearly five months since that day and I am still thankful for God providing me with this opportunity.

Kendra Pittam: Copy Editor

Some people are born to be athletes. Unfortunately, I am not one of those people. In fact, I still haven’t found a sport that I’m remotely good at, which leaves me with a lot of time on my hands. Enough time to do crazy things like read the dic­tionary, whine about signs in the grocery store that say “10 items or less” when they should say “10 items or fewer” (come on, people) and fume at the emerg­ing dialect of text-lingo. Serv­ing as this year’s Copy Editor provided me with a healthy (and financially compensated) outlet for this intellectual aggression, and I will forever be grateful for the experience. I’ve been able to simultaneously work with some of the best students and faculty on campus and pursue my pas­sion for the English language, not to mention look up countless sloth videos on YouTube while waiting on content at 2 a.m. I’ve learned that Apple computers are virtually impossible to figure out for PC users (or maybe just me), pulling all-nighters is OK if it’s the only way to make sure everything is done right and the quickest way to bond with some­one is by singing Celine Dion while dancing ballet throughout the office. I leave this position with fond memories and an ar­ray of new life experiences in my tool belt, and to next year’s brave and capable staff I wish the best of luck.

contributors

What is the value of a university education? Is it simply to obtain a degree? Is it to acquire information? Or is its value more similar to what our admissions website advertises?

It reads: “Immerse yourself in the PLNU experience and you will never be the same. At PLNU, you will get a dynamic balance of chal­lenging academics, deep spirituality, and a warm community.”

Friends, what challenging aca­demics or warm community have you experienced online lately? On a screen? With your mobile devices and relentless digital babble?

The idea of online education at PLNU is a seductive proposi­tion, but it is an unwise choice and a symptom of a sickness that threatens universities all over the country — the commodification of our educa­tion system.

Through online classes and pro­grams, we are turning the holistic, personal educational experience into an assembly line where we input students, hammer them into mass-produced goods through uninspiring e-classrooms and output graduates with cheap diplomas.

This transaction completely ne­gates the principles of our school: “warm community, challenging aca­demics, and deep spirituality.”

Those who propose these online courses say that PLNU should imple­ment online education to keep up with the technological tides, boost enroll­ment and solve our financial woes.

Even if this does pay off, it only undermines the university’s credibility by trading course quality for student quantity. It is a step away from the community learning experience and challenging academics. It is a move that ultimately tarnishes our universi­ty’s reputation in a scandalous attempt to produce more revenue.

However, we are not convinced that online education is quite the cash cow that some administrators think it is. PLNU will never be able to offer online classes or programs that big name schools (even other Christian colleges) could not easily match or edge out in price and qual­ity. Nor should we try to.

We do not need to join the online education arms race! We are giving up our niche market as a small liberal arts college where interdisciplinary discourse is valuable to compete in a market where we will lose.

The strength of PLNU is in its small-classroom, community-mind­ed orientation where professors have personal relationships with students. We read books together, eat meals together, discuss difficult issues to­gether and pursue Christ together — we strive to be a community of humble learners.

This cannot be simply mimicked online. Don’t you see that online classes strip us of our very identity as a liberal arts college?

We urge students, faculty and ad­ministration to, at the very least, con­verse about this issue. Forging ahead with online classes at PLNU will have a significant impact on this university.

We would like to address the fol­lowing groups specifically:

STUDENTS

Yes, online classes are easier and more accommodating. But we want challenging academics and personal relationships with our teachers and peers. Let us not settle for internet classes when we are paying tens of thousands of dollars every year for holistic, interdisciplinary education. We did not come here to take class online. One simple way to tell our professors and our administration this is to refuse to take online classes next fall.

FACULTY

If there is ever a place to dig your heels in, this is it. Will you push back when our administration plunges forward with these misguided de­signs that, in the end, commodify your lectures? We know that the most memorable and impactful learning occurs in a classroom. On­line education tends to turn robust academic discourse into a sterile, lonely stream of digital information. Advocate on behalf of your students, and don’t resign to being a virtual classroom administrator.

ADMINISTRATION

Even if online education pays dividends, is it really worth it? Does an online education system produce comparable graduates? It is deceitful to market internet classes as Chris­tian education.

Our Nazarene mission seeks to provide opportunities for the mar­ginalized, and some assert that of­fering online courses fulfills this mis­sion. This is simply not true because it is predicated on the assumption that online courses are comparable to the classroom, community-ori­ented experience. Thus, we will of­fer watered-down education to those who pay for and seek the vibrant PLNU environment.

We understand that these are chal­lenging financial times for our uni­versity and difficult decisions must be made. But please, please reconsider.

Online education will negatively impact the culture of this campus. In this tough economic desert that we are in, online education is a false hope that falls like acid rain. And on commence­ment day, the gloomy shadow of cre­dentialism is cast on the white pillars of the Greek amphitheater.

Let us pursue high standards for quality classroom education and not reduce ourselves to scrambling after the factory business model.

by Leah Willis

Contributor

A lot of people look at graphic design majors and think that we have it easy. Yes, we aren’t writing papers all day, but nothing about it is easy.

I remember Graphic Design 1, the first graphic design class I took, with MaeLin Levine, who has served as a mentor and amaz­ing instructor throughout this entire process. I was so overwhelmed looking at all the dif­ferent tools, and I thought to myself, “I will never be able to do this.”

A few years later, I am so happy to say that I can.

As cheesy as it sounds, the point from where I was then to where I am now has been such an incredible trek. I have had to really push myself, struggle and think outside the box to get to this point.

Being a part of the graphic design pro­gram has been amazing because it is such a collaborative environment and I have been so lucky to learn alongside and work with amaz­ingly talented students.

Putting together my portfolio has been such a whirlwind of emotion, but an incred­ible experience. Fellow students and I joke that our portfolios are our children — we take care of them and love them and, at times, they make us cry. We have been up all night be­cause of them, but at the end of the day, we are so extremely proud of them.

The thing that I love about design is that, if you can dream it, you can figure out a way to do it. Design takes every element and mixes it all together to create this magical world. It is my playground.

I went into design with the dreams of be­ing the next Grace Coddington (the creative director of Vogue) and, as much as I’d still love to do that, I have also fallen madly in love with branding.

I guess we will see where I end up from here. I have dubbed a David Bowie quote as my newest mantra, “I don’t know where I am going from here, but I swear it won’t be boring.”

As of now, that’s all I know.

by Amy Williams

staff writer

Almost every day, a student can be seen wearing a Loma Apparel hat or shirt. But where did Loma Apparel come from? The Point Weekly sat down with the owner, Carter Rhoads, a Business Administration major, to talk about this business.

Point Weekly: Why did you start this business?

Carter Rhoads: I love the school, I love the people and I love the campus. But I noticed there is very little school spirit, and a lot of people thought it was because we have a small school. But Duke Uni­versity has 6,000 kids and they have the most amazing basketball fans of all time. So I said, ‘that’s not it.’

One day, I was going to get a sweatshirt or a T-shirt from the book store. First thing I noticed is that ev­erything is way out of date. Nothing I would wear. This is stuff that my mom or dad would wear, and they’re super old-fashioned southerners. Secondly, I was going to buy this pullover sweatshirt and I noticed that it was, like, $55. What a joke! It’s so expensive. And I was like, ‘There has to be a better solution.’ So I thought, ‘Why don’t I just start a clothing company called Loma Apparel?’

PW: Where did you come up with the logo?

CR: My brother and I came up with the design. We were just go­ing to do LOMA with the A upside down. This school is so plain that I wanted something different and something that’s noticeable. So that was the design.

The next step was to brand the company. I love hats that have little things that stand out from other hats. I decided that I wanted it to be a lion head and I couldn’t think of any com­panies that had a lion. So I searched online for probably three weeks in this night class that I had. Every day, I would go through free clip art. Ten thousand of them, every line and, fi­nally, I saw it. It had some stuff in it that I didn’t like, so I gave it to my graphic designer and I wanted him to crop out some of the stuff on it.

I was at the embroidery shop, about to give them the lion head, and my brother, the graphic designer, was like, “Hey, I added a triangle around it. It looks great.”

I’m at the embroidery shop, about to give them the OK on the first design, and I check the new de­sign out and I love it.

PW: What do you sell?

CR: Hats, tank-tops and crew neck sweatshirts. We’re also going to be selling hoodies and eventu­ally T-shirts.

PW: On Loma Apparel’s Insta­gram bio, it says that the company is giving back. Can you tell me more about that?

CR: We give back 10 percent to five different non-profits. I thought it was super important that, if this company was going to be profitable, I wanted to give back to what God gave to me. I’m a huge believer in tithing. So I decided that, if God’s going to make this business success­ful, then I want to give back.

The first non-profit I chose is Guatemala Medical Missions. I’ve been super impacted by that. I’ve been to Guatemala 10 times and I’m leading a trip of 48 people on June 1 for eight days.

The second one is King of Kings Church, a large church in South Africa. I went there for 20 days and the ministry really touched me, so I knew it was something that I wanted to give back to.

I think that it’s really important to give back to the environment, so I chose a ministry called San Diego Coast Keepers, and that’s a way to give back to keep the beaches clean.

The next one is called Iron and Fire. There’s a lot of youth mentor­ships for kids that are underprivi­leged. This is not one of those. This is for the kids who seem like they have it all going on. [The organiza­tion leader] was my youth pastor growing up — a guy that you really see God’s love in. I just really wanted to give back to someone like that, who has impacted me and helped me become who I am.

The last one is Bread of Life through the Rock.

PW: Where will this go after you graduate?

CR: My plan is to work on it for another year. I want to move into some stores to get some money com­ing in and out. But I’d like to talk to the Business Department about getting an intern from the school and they would run a lot of the on-campus sales.

by Andrew Dixon

staff writer

PLNU’s Invisible Children Club held a benefit concert at OB1 Church in Ocean Beach Friday night to raise funds for those suffering from the ac­tivities of the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) in Central Africa.

The concert featured several San Diego-based bands, including two bands comprised of PLNU students — Coldsons and The Ruckus.

This concert was The Ruckus’ first time performing as a group and consists of PLNU students A.J. Wolf, Ryan Lamonde, Wesley Turner, Ty­ler Merrihew, Alexis Ybarra, Tavis Robertson and Moriah Broughton. They were the first to take the stage.

After the first three bands played, a short film about the Kony cam­paign, which took place in Washing­ton, D.C., last year, and an update about the Fourth Estate Summit, which will be taking place this Au­gust, was screened.

After the video, the show contin­ued with two additional San Diego-based bands — Last Call Home and Focus in Frame.

At the end of the night, crowds cheered as Christina Issa, junior nursing major and Invisible Chil­dren Club president, announced that the concert raised over $400 for relief aid.

by Haley Jonswold

staff writer

“[Music] is a different way of sto­rytelling,” said Ryan Shoemaker, a freshman visual arts and philosophy double major and one member of the PLNU band Coldsons.

Coldsons is a four-member band consisting of PLNU students Haplin Hills, Curtis Northum, Kenny Orte­ga and Ryan Shoemaker.

According to the band members, playing music is their way of express­ing life as Christians. The band is aware that it is easy for Christians to be portrayed in a stereotypical, cookie-cutter way, but Coldsons at­tempt to be a different kind of band, sharing real messages through their lyrics and melodies.

An alternative/indie band, Cold­sons’ music is influenced by bands including Bon Iver, Death Cab for Cutie, From Indian Lakes, As Cities Burn and The Strokes. While this may seem like an eclectic variety of bands, the members of Coldsons admit that the sounds that come from their band are eclectic as well. Curtis Northum, a junior philosophy and theology major, said that they even have some music that sounds more punk.

Coldsons released their first re­cord, “Florence,” in February of 2012. Now, Coldsons is launching their new­est record, “To Break Down These Walls,” on Indiegogo, an online fund­ing platform. They refer to themselves as “four friends who intentionally participate in community through the outlet of music, with the goal of releas­ing our second record.”

The band recorded “To Break Down These Walls” over Christmas break and, according to the band mem­bers, this has been one of their most memorable experiences. The members of Coldsons said that this record is quite different from “Florence.”

“[‘To Break Down These Walls’] is different mostly because of the mu­sic we have. We have all progressed a lot and the guy who records us progressed a lot as well,” said Shoe­maker. “It’s all very relational and it’s pretty safe to say God is in it and through it, because we are all Chris­tians. Mostly Kenny and Happy write the songs about the emotions they feel and the story kind of just forms around it,” said Shoemaker of Coldsons’ music.

Coldsons’ new release is being sponsored by friends and family on Indiegogo. Shoemaker quoted his band member, saying, “Happy says it really well: ‘A lot of music tries to say you’re welcome and we want to say thank you.’”

Their new record does just that, and the band members are more than appreciative of all of their friends and family who are involved in helping Coldsons succeed.

“Music means a lot to us and so does playing together as a whole,” said Shoemaker.

They continue to perform in churches and cafes such as Ché Cafe.

“We played at SOMA and it was really cool,” Northum said. “When I was in high school, I saw a lot of bands play at SOMA. I was playing on the same stage as the really good bands I saw play on, and it was really cool for me.”

Coldsons continue to say thank you to their audience through their music. Performing Thursday night at Musoffee, they opened their new­er songs up to PLNU students to hear and enjoy.

“I don’t really know where Coldsons will be in five years,” said Shoemaker. “Two of us are studying abroad next year. I know we will all still be making music, but hopefully this springs us on to musically think­ing about the way we live.”

by Casslyn Fiser

staff writer

Concert Choir and Chorale performed for a full house on Friday night in Crill Performance Hall. The event was called Choral Spectrum and it is the choirs’ culminating show of the year.

After touring 10 different locations throughout California this semes­ter, the more than 60 students of Concert Choir, conducted by Dr. Dan Jackson, performed with Chorale, conducted by Tina Sayers, for students, faculty and the community.

The show encompassed a wide variety of music, from “Deus in adiuto­rium muem intende” to Lewis Carroll’s “Jabberwocky.”

Concert Choir and Chorale will have just one more performance this year. They will be singing with the rest of the music department in the Spring Music Festival, honoring the graduating seniors on Friday, May 3.

by Alexa Mangrum

Alumna Contributor

Coachella. Coach-el-la. “Coach­ella.” A three-syllable word with serious street cred swag in the world of music fests, “Coachella” is a word that, no matter who you are or how you say it, will always drip with Val­ley Girl intonations. Begun as a humble Pearl Jam concert in 1993, the now three-day full-fledged arts and music circus has cloned itself into two weekends — a cruise ship.

Bearing a reputation that falls somewhere between mythical and a full-blown Christmas-of-sorts for hipsters, Coachella keeps it metal by locating itself in Satan’s armpit of the U.S. — Palm Desert.

Set among the Empire Polo Fields, location, location, loca­tion is a key ingredient of this epic mecca of Instagram-worthy oddity.

Artfully wedged with palm trees for beauty, blazing temperatures so you feel warrior-like and gnarly, Coachella primes itself to be a whirl­wind of weird.

And therein lies the appeal. Part circus, part crash-course sociology course, Coachella has become a con­temporary fixture in the music scene less for its credibility as an amazing venue and more for its ability to col­lage together bands that would never otherwise shake hands, much less share a stage.

Melding technological sparkle with a “snowglobesque” set-up, aside from the bands and art scattered around the fest, Coachella exists as a Cirque-du-Soleil of people-watch­ing. Aside from the changing lineup, hit up the fest any day, any hour, any year for a cornucopia of epic oddity.

Attending Coachella is an agreement to participate in history, from resurrected zombies (holo­gram Tupac) to the reality that you will probably share intimate droplets of sweat with a raver Dad during an emotional Bon Iver set. Coachella produces minutes that become moments, and moments have become our cultural currency.

We are people of story, but foremost, we are people of history; Coachella, somewhere along the way, grew enough momentum to make a scene of itself. Coachella is, for the time being, our generation’s version of a cult classic

Filby being filmed fora documentary, which is expected to premiere at the Sundance Film Festival.

by Ivan Filby

Dean of Fermanian
School of Business

My first year at PLNU has been challenging and wonderful in equal measures. It has been challenging because, for the first time in 21 years of marriage, I have been separated from my wife and children. My wife and daughter have remained in Il­linois so that my daughter can fin­ish her senior year of high school without moving states; my son is a freshman at Seattle Pacific Univer­sity. It has been wonderful because exceptional friends and colleagues in the Fermanian School of Business, Provost’s Council and throughout the university have surrounded me. I have been challenged to rethink my views of sustainability, art and tacos! More than that, the year has reaffirmed my commitment to the Christian liberal arts. A Christian liberal arts education is intended to be transformational both for students and professors. It helps us to think deeply about complex issues that matter and to personally and corpo­rately be transformed as together we struggle to find truth. I have found PLNU to be a place where professors and students are unafraid to address the difficult questions of our time. I am delighted that my daughter will be at PLNU next year to experience all of this.

I am also thrilled to see how the Holy Spirit is moving on this cam­pus. I have enjoyed meeting with students in my apartment, during Tuesday Night Fire, in Chapel and over coffee in Bobby B’s. Like you, I keep singing that God would “Set a fire down in my soul that I can’t con­tain, that I can’t control; I want more of you, God.” Christian liberal arts educational institutions often remind us of how we need to be transformed by the renewing of our minds (Ro­mans 12:2). That is certainly true, but this only really happens in the context of offering all of ourselves as living sacrifices to the God who calls us together to be his arms and feet.

So back to my year of living apart from my family: it has been a won­derful year. It has been a year in which I have been able to pray more and enable God to search through the pain and dirt in my own life and plant new seeds of hope and transfor­mation. It has been a year in which I encountered God again and again. PLNU is a good place to be.

by Stephen Goforth

Assistant Professor of
Journalism

dodg­ing raindrops in Vancouver right now. A Canadian school made me a generous offer to join their fac­ulty and I was ready to head north of the border. Before leaving the deep South for ice hockey and Tim Hortons, my daughter and I agreed we would first visit a small private school in San Diego.

I had never heard of PLNU or the university bearing its name. In fact, I had only stumbled on a post advertising an opening for a journal­ism professor at Point Loma Naza­rene University because my son was considering a graduate school in the area. During our visit, I kept the Ca­nuck offer tucked inside my front coat pocket as a reminder that if I didn’t like what I saw, I had some­where else to go.

Like most campus visitors, we were “wowed” by the view of the water. But that’s not what brought us to PLNU. In a very natural way, the professors showed me their pas­sion for learning and teaching. Their respect toward my daughter showed her an attitude that extended to each of their students.

This is the kind of place where you can make the argument that do­ing something is in the best inter­est of the students and it will carry weight. This is the kind of place that genuinely cares about the young lives entrusted to it.

I want my daughter to know that kind of support and care during her formative college years. You may have seen the photo she took that graced the front of this year’s PLNU Christmas card. Like that gorgeous ocean sunset, my first year at PLNU is winding down. It was both ex­hausting and exhilarating. It was a great choice — for both of us.