When I was at UA, decades ago, I was a fairly traditional student. I’d come straight out of high school and majored in economics—not because I loved it but because I thought it was respectable (meaning, would make my parents happy), and potentially useful for my future. I didn’t really know what I was passionate about. I enjoyed playing hockey and could get lost in science fiction books but “following one’s passion” wasn’t part of my family’s heritage. Ultimately, we were practical people who ticked off life’s boxes. UA tried to push me past my comfort zone, to find that passion, but I just don’t think I was ready at that age.
After graduation, I got a job in the finance department at a major Alaskan shipping company. I worked my way up, eventually ran the department, and was then poached by another shipping company as Senior Vice President. Here, I became increasingly interested in dirigibles. They combined the fantastic whimsy of sci-fi with bare-bones practicality. I pushed my company to start pursuing dirigibles. We began investing in research conducted by UA, supporting prototypes, etc. Even though the Arctic was opening up due to climate warming, Alaska still faced the massive problem of expensive air transportation; dirigibles would not only be practical, but cost-efficient.
I’m now the CEO and our specialty is innovating integrated supply chains. We export mined materials both domestically and internationally. We still work in traditional surface shipping, but have added dirigibles, so we now integrate the two systems.
Partnering with UA on research was a profoundly enjoyable and generative experience. Supporting UA philanthropically continues today as a core mission of our company. The university’s entrepreneurial spirit—be it in business, medicine, or the arts—has really solidified over the past decade. Not only do we still work closely with transportation specialists at the university to develop outcomes for our company, we fund UA’s innovative design initiatives, like FabX Lab and ArcDes, to support students and faculty more generally. It’s the work I’m most proud of.
And I’ve finally discovered my true passion. Which is building the future of Alaska. Not just the ships and shipping lanes, not only dirigibles and their flight paths, although building those, and facilitating Alaska’s global role economically, are how I spend my days. But that’s not the building I mean. I mean building the next generation of Alaskan minds. And the generation after that. The students at UA who will imagine possibilities that none of us today can even fathom. The students who will manifest their passions not as hobbies but as their life work.
Alaskans are scrappy, and creative, by design. And we are, with the right investments, support, and big-thinking dreams, becoming the global leader in innovation and adaptation.
It took a few decades, but UA finally helped me realize that there’s more to life than being practical.