Fukuyama's 1989 thesis in the wake of the fall of Communism created ripples throughout the international relations community.

In 1989, international relations scholar Francis Fukuyama published an academic paper titled “The End of History” in The National Interest that literally took the IR community by storm. In the paper, written while the Cold War was literally on its deathbed, Fukuyama argued that with the defeat of communism, there was no longer any challenge to liberal democracy in the world and subsequently, there would be no longer any need for evolution of political thought.

Democracy had been weighed, measured, and been found wanting and the end result was that it had won the battle for supremacy and bragging rights globally. (Bonus points to whoever can name the movie that quote’s from)

Or has it?

Recently, as part of my interest in politics, I had become interested in not only the legislative processes of our own country, but also those of others. And the more and more I read about political processes today and the carrying out of democracy in its purest form around the world, the more I can’t help thinking that democracy, at least in the form that we’ve known it since the 20th century, is on the verge of an evolution of its own.

That’s not to say that Fukuyama’s thesis is not valid or timely. If anything, his argument still holds true in countries such as Egypt, Libya and currently, Syria, where they have thrown away old, dictatorial regime and replaced it with democracy. Even today, democracy is being seen as the ultimate form of government, the supreme “superhero” if you will that wins against all villains and prevails in the end.

But, back here in the United States, the “bastion” of democracy, the birthplace of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution, are we really happy and content with the government system that we have? Is “democracy” really the final form of government, never to be replaced with a system more innovative and new?

As totalitarian regimes were toppled in what became known as the "Arab Spring" last year, society showed that even today, Fukuyama's thesis still holds its relevance. (MOHAMMED ABED/AFP/Getty Images)

I’m sure there are some who would vehemently answer no.

In the past year, events such as the Occupy Wall Street Protests showed the world just how discontent our public had become with the economic status quo following the recent recession.

Although much of the protests were aimed at the top 1% of earners, part of the protests also voiced discontent at the government’s inability to keep the promises they had made to fix the recession. (Not to mention the extreme disappointment and mistrust of authority in places like Portland, and although not an Occupy protest, at UC Davis.)

The protests eventually snowballed into a global phenomenon, with especially heavy protests in countries such as Spain and Greece, whose economies were especially hard hit post-recession.

On Capitol Hill, things aren’t looking much better. In an effort to prove that Congress can compromise, late last year, legislators attempted to form a “super-coalition” to tackle the issue of rampant government spending and to trim the budget. That failed. Then came the elections in November with a whopping win for the Republicans in the House, causing a mixed party government and, thanks to party polarization, the virtual inability to pass anything resembling legislation geared towards one party or another without bickering and infighting.

Part of the OWS Protests focused upon lawmakers and their inability to solve the economic woes of the American public.

It might be an understatement to say that Americans are becoming rapidly disgruntled with politics and government, as well they should be.

But what does this mean for democracy? Or rather, the evolution of democracy?

In America, we’ve reached a point in our political timeline where the basic facets of democracy are being challenged by party warfare. On the one hand, our representatives are supposed to represent the interests and needs of their respective constituencies and act for the greater good, on the other hand, they have a loyalty to the party and to ensure party legislation gets passed.

For some lucky members of Congress, these sides correspond with each other. Their constituents agree with the party line. But for the great majority of them, they conflict, and the sad part is, all too often, they choose the later as more beneficial to their overall career as lawmakers.

When our nation was first being founded, it was exactly what opponents of the Constitution like Thomas Jefferson (a W&M alum) and Patrick Henry feared. As history moved on, groups only caring about their own self-interest (or “factions” as they were referred to) would put their own interests above those of the public good and, in essence, destroy the very meaning of democracy.

Democracy as we know it today is increasingly sowing discontent and will need to adapt and innovate to meet the needs of the 21st century citizen.

That theory seems all too real right now.

So ready for the million dollar question? What happens now?

As we go into 2012, we find democracy on the edge of a pretty large hurdle. Democracy, at least in America, has gotten to a point where it is having a hard time solving the problems of its constituents. And an ever growing portion of our public, larger than ever before, is becoming more and more discontent with the system by the day.

And that brings us back to Fukuyama. Is democracy the ultimate form of government that countries will end up adopting? Looking at the global events of the present, it seems so.

But does that mean we’ll stop innovating at finding better forms to govern? Absolutely not.

In fact, as Americans move further into the 21st century, we’ll have to innovate. If we don’t, we’re going to have to be prepared for some extremely dark times ahead.

On a recent trip back to my high school for an alumni reunion, I found it interesting how I was able to rediscover where I had started to foster my interest in pursuing journalism. I vividly recall that after a high school summer program I attended at VCU’s School of Communications, pursing hard-news and feature stories started to greatly interest me.

News is constantly evolving ... whether we like it or not.

In particular, I think it was the human aspect of things that intrigued me the most about this field of work. The fact that people all around you have their own special story, a verbal historical record that just requires the right questioning to discover. Sometimes you’d be surprised. I’ve met war heroes, novelists, aspiring dreamers, people who had huge ambitions, and by some random occurrence ended up what they’re doing today (and are perfectly happy with what they’ve become). In a sense, it was also perhaps my own personal journey that made me realize that there really is never such a thing as a “dull” human being.

But recently, I’ve done something that I never thought I’d ever do: question whether or not I want to even pursue my own dream of a career as a journalist. And more and more, one particular question rises above the rest:

What exactly has our “free” press become?

All around the world, we flaunt our ideals enshrined in the freedom of the press and laugh at the absurd reporting of less freer countries such as China or North Korea. “Our media might be biased, but at least we’re not like them,” we argue. “At least we don’t report that our world cup team lost to Japan because they were struck by lightning…”

But is our news media really that much more different? I look around at broadcast news today, and with the exception of a few programs, I hardly ever see a non-biased news program. Every single one seems to have their own agenda, their own set of viewpoints and ideals that they want to instill on their viewers until death. Ironically, it’s the gag news shows like the Daily Show and the Colbert Report that end up taking a “common sense” approach to news. Perhaps that’s why they’ve gotten such a huge following.

How many of these words apply to news media today?

What happened to the days when news reporting was news reporting, not some bunch of biased “experts” spouting their own opinions about what will happen? What happened to the idea that the press was supposed to be the unbiased fourth branch, constantly checking to ensure the stability of politics? What happened to the Woodward and Bernstein of a bygone era?

At the rate that they’re going, more and more, I feel like the media just continuously adds fuel to the already volatile flames of politics, what part of that is a check?

Then there’s also print journalism, or rather, the lack thereof. As the field that I was initially trained in, I’ve developed a certain love for the newspapers of lore, of the breaking news journalist that’s willing to cover the hard investigative articles. Yet, unfortunately, the reality is that there’s a saying in the newspaper industry that newspapers “are a dying breed.” With the advent of the internet and ever increasing digital mobility, newspapers can no longer support themselves with simple ad revenue and subscriptions. Why should people buy a newspaper when they could easily do a Google News search and find what they’re looking for, often faster and more importantly, free of charge? Perhaps the most famous example was the recent fall of the Los Angeles Times, a newspaper giant that, in the face of bankruptcy, fired off editor after editor, reporter after reporter, in an effort to make a profit. But the eventual downfall of the newspaper industry is one that is facing all newspapers around the country, not just the giants.

How many of these will exist in 20 years? 30? 40?

This is the industry I want to enter. And I’m a bit worried. Wouldn’t you be too?

In the 21st century, more than ever, the basic ideals of which the structure of journalism upholds its integrity is constantly being challenged and in some ways defrauded. Traditional forms of journalism can’t compete with newer, more innovative digital formats, and journalists, good journalists,  those willing to spend the time and money to cover the important stories are a rare and rapidly disappearing breed.

But in a certain sense, perhaps I’m looking at this situation the wrong way. There’s a saying that every college student enters college to learn about the world, and exits college wanting to change it. Perhaps this is my personal challenge that I need to face in order to change my part of the world bit by bit.

… well, I’ll see what I can do …

July 29, 2011 –Asuke, Aichi Prefecture, Japan

Now that I’d finally made it to Japan, sadly, my family came to the realization that this may be the last time all three of us would ever be together for a family outing in Japan. With me going off to find work in the next couple months and living on my own, we decided to make the best of it while we were here.

Asuke town proper during dusk. Tetsuo-san's old family residence can be seen to the left.

Soon after the ceremonies my parents decided it would be nice to go visit family in Japan, especially extended family that we really didn’t get a chance to see very often. One of the people we visited was my uncle Tetsuo, who lived way in the mountains of Aichi Prefecture in a small town called Asuke.

What strikes me as particularly interesting about this town was that it could easily be mistaken for a Japanese version of small town USA. Everyone in the town knows everyone else. But at the same time, for the countryside, it was a much different environment from what we in the States would call “country.”

Everything about the Japanese countryside just had a much greater sense of “cleanliness” and “quality” than anything I’d ever seen before in the States. For one, I’d never seen such clean water or such green trees in my life. Water was so clear that you could see to the bottom of creeks and rivers, something unheard of unless in the deep recesses of the Rockies or Appalachians.

Another example lies in just the sounds of nature that you hear around the Japanese countryside. What struck me as particularly interesting was that the sound of birds in Japan is actually quite rare. In the summer, cicadas drown out much of the noise of normal nature and to hear a bird call is a blessing indeed. Yet, even the sound of cicadas in itself is beautiful.

Gates leading up to Asuke's mountaintop shrine.

I think there was something in the green overgrowth of trees surrounding you and the noise of cicadas and the sounds of the rushing river by you that just screamed out peacefulness.

In essence, it really is hard to put into words. The Japanese have such a saying for food called “甘み”(umami), in a sense, I guess you could say that this was the umami, the good essence and vibe, of the natural forest around us.

Oh and the food, don’t even get me started on the food. There’s just something about Japanese food whether it be in the city or even out in the countryside that’s genuine and delicious. I think that some of it could be the fact that Japan is such a small country, that it’s not hard to ship local products in and around Japan. In a sense, it’s like Vermont, everything you eat in Japan was grown domestically and locally, and the result is a much more delicious, more organic, more genuine taste I suppose.

鮎(Ayu) or "sweetfish" in English, is a famous summer-time dish in Japan

For Asuke in particular, the delicious food came to us in the form of Ayu, commonly referred to as “sweetfish” in English. It’s a type of freshwater fish that has two conditions for growth: first, it can only be caught in the summer when the fish thrive in country rivers, second said rivers must be clean, clear and otherwise pollutant/pesticide free for them to thrive. Seeing the quality of country rivers in Japan, I’m not surprised that Ayu can be caught so easily come summer time.

Maybe I’m wrong when I try to compare the countryside of the U.S. with the countryside of Japan. Both are unique in their own special way. But in a country that is known worldwide for the bustling metropolises and super-efficient (and sometimes loud) trains and cars, the countryside, only hours away, was surprisingly serene and peaceful.

July 28, 2011–Okazaki City, Aichi Prefecture, Japan

Greetings readers, long time no see, I hear that the weather over in America right now is blistering hot, I hope that all of you are doing your best to stay cool and dry during this heat wave.

Actually, I’m currently in Japan right now in a (rather large) prefecture called Aichi Prefecture. You guys might recognize the name, Aichi is home to the global HQ of Toyota Motors and was the location for the 2005 World Expo all those years ago.

Although I’d visited this prefecture numerous times in the past as a tourist, I found myself over here for a completely special reason this time around: to attend my grandmother’s funeral.

Japanese funerals differ from American ones in a great manner. In America, when a loved one dies, there’s a huge funeral ceremony that ends in the burying of the casket and that’s it. It’s up to the loved ones from there whether or not they want to visit and how often. Japan’s a country that believes that our ancestors help make a family who they are. Thus, after every funeral, there are ceremonial rites to help the spirit on its way to an afterlife and every year, there’s a festival named “Obon” in August which invites spirits of the deceased back to the living to honor them for a week.

But not only that, as I’ve grown to see more and more as I’ve stayed here, the Japanese have a firm belief that the spirits of those that passed are watching over us and guiding us in several ways. In certain ancestral homes, there’s often a shrine to the family spirits, and every gift given to the family must first be honored in front of the ancestors before the actual family can enjoy them.

For me, attending a funeral of any kind, let alone a Japanese one, was a first. I’d always seen funerals as a sad occasion, a time to mourn a loss. Instead, in the Japanese funeral, I found a ceremony that honored the living and helped them to pass through to the next stage of their lives.

To be honest, I first hesitated when considering whether to write this blog. My grandmother touched the lives of many people over her 86 year life, and emotions ran very high during the funeral ceremonies. Yet, the more I thought of it, the more I realized that it was stupid to be sad. Funerals should be times to mourn the loss of a loved one, but also to take a step back and admire one’s accomplishments in life so why hesitate?

I think what struck me as the most emotional time during a funeral was the cremation. Pragmatically, because of the lack of land to bury bodies, most Japanese families choose to have their remains cremated. The living family members then carefully place the burnt bones in the urn that will later be buried in the family grave.

At first, and to many of you reading this blog from the States, that may seem quite ghastly to be honest. Who wants to see the dead charred remains of a loved one? But lemme tell you, it wasn’t disgusting at all. In fact, there was something very touching and heart-warming about having your closest and most loved family members finally carry you off into the final resting place for your physical self.

And in writing this, perhaps you’d like to know more about my grandmother, the whole reason why I’m here in the first place.

My grandmother was a kind-hearted, warm lady who I regrettably did not see enough of during my life. As I had moved to America when I was five, we really didn’t have many chances to go back to Japan. Japan was just too far and too expensive to take a casual trip to every now and then. Even now, I look back and am saddened at the fact that my grandmother only got to see me really two times since I moved to America: once when I was six and the next when I was 14 and now, as a 22 year old in spirit.

One of my biggest regrets in life, even at the age of 22, was the fact that I never even knew grandmother’s first name. For me, she’d always been, and always will be, Okazaki Obachan, my grandmother from Okazaki, Japan. Yet, she didn’t hesitate to have a huge influence on my life to make me who I am.

My fondest memories of my grandmother came in two forms. In first grade, I visited Japan for the first time since I moved to the States. At the time, my grandmother owned a liquor business in Okazaki, a family business that had been handed down generations in the town. I remember fondly that one day, I was helping my grandmother with the store and someone paid a ¥500 coin for something (rougly $5). My grandmother, noticing that I had never seen a ¥500 coin, handed it to me, saying it was a gift. I still have the coin in a piggy bank at home, but, looking back, I admire her the fact that she could notice such small things in her grandson. Maybe I was being a bit obvious, I guess I can’t really remember…

Like most grandmothers, she also loved to spoil me. One of the clearest memories I have was of her taking me to a department store to buy me my first game boy. It was a special edition green one, and back in the States, no one had ever heard of such a thing. Another fond memory was when, for my 10th birthday, I opened a package from Japan to discover the newly released Pokemon Gold game lying there. Apparently, my grandmother, knowing I loved games and seeing the hype about “Pocket Monsters” had lined up all night on the release date of the game to get it for me. Perhaps that’s why when they remade that very game last year, I was one of the first in line to get it…it brought back a lot of fond memories.

As I said earlier, I’m of the opinion that it’s a person’s actions and ability to positively (or negatively) affect people’s lives that define who a person is. For my grandmother, the memories, (what’s left of them anyways) are all I have left, but that’s what I’ll keep with me for the rest of my life.

Recently, I saw an episode of the science show “NOVA” which showcased an interesting research question in the field of biology right now: are the animals that we choose to live with, smarter than we think they are?

The program showcased several cases of extreme intelligence in animals where, if trained, dogs, birds, and dolphins could do amazing things and even think creatively on a toddler’s level. A New Zealand shepherd dog was showcased with over 300 words in his vocabulary, with the ability to learn new ones. Several dolphins were shown on the show that had the ability to create and develop ingenious new maneuvers with each other, all marks of “animal intelligence.”

Normally, some simple thing I see on television would not inspire me to write a whole blog post, at least until this morning.

What if we're just underestimating the true intelligence of animals around us? (Photo by Per Harald Olsen)

Last night, I spent the night at a friend’s house whose parents are currently pet-sitting a bird and a dog both of which have the same owner.

I watched this morning, as the bird and dog seemed to almost talk and communicate with each other. In one instance, the dog was in dire need to go outside and was clearly troubled. The bird was actually the one that let people know since his screeching alerted the household. In another, when the dog was trying to sleep, the bird screeched a little at her, and then was quiet for the rest of the morning.

Now, most of you will think this a stupid, silly post. I mean, these are two instances, totally unrelated, and probably coincidental. And for all of you, I say, YEAH! I know, I even felt silly writing the very words I just wrote above. But what if…just what if, we may be underestimating man’s best friends. And what about animals communicating not within the same species, but cross species?

ARE animals really more intelligent than we give them credit for? We’ve spent our whole civilization automatically assuming that we’re the ones on top, we’re the ones who’ve mastered nature, cultivated fire, and dominated the top of the food chain. But honestly, are we really just taking for granted the intelligence of other animals around us?

Until we can decode how they talk and what they do, that question might never be answered in full. But in my opinion, never underestimate that which we do not know.

And it makes me wonder. What about animals not of our world. I believe it was Steven Hawking who contemplated whether or not humankind could take it if we ever encountered life more intelligent than our own. So long, we’ve come to believe that our ingenuity and resourcefulness and our ability to adapt to the environment and climate at hand is what sets us apart and makes us the ultimate race.

What happens when humankind looks around one day at the groundbreaking realization that we’re not number one? That we’re really not as big and great as we say we are. What a sad day that might be.

But in the meantime, enough about aliens and extraterrestrials. As for man’s best friends, I’m genuinely convinced there’s much much more than meets the eye.

Long time no see to all of you blog readers! I know that I haven’t been the most frequent of blog posters, and for that I apologize to my readership. (Assuming I still have a readership) Well, it sure has been quite a while since my last foray into the blogosphere and a lot has indeed happened since then.

For one, I graduated. Yup! Look at me, properly commenced (if you can use that term) and minted with the title of “Class of 2011.” To be honest though, other than a tradition filled ceremony filled with pomp and circumstance, I don’t think it’s really sunk in for me that I’ve left William and Mary at all. Perhaps, when August comes along and it turns out that I don’t have to go back to Williamsburg for the first time in four years, it’ll finally hit me.

But yeah, I graduated, with a double major in Government and Chinese Studies no less and my grandparents even drove half the country to watch me with proud eyes. I hadn’t seen their faces light up that brightly in a very long time.

So yeah…I graduated….NOW WHAT?

Trust me, the previous three paragraphs are what I’ve been mulling over constantly ever since Commencement Day May 15th, 2011.

It seems almost weird. I feel like, all this time, my life had been planned out for me: go to school, study hard, pass SATs, go to college…that I never even realized what I would do after the guided tunnel that was my education finally let me out into the open.

I don't think it's sunk in for me quite yet what life has in store for me.

I will admit, I was and still am to say the least, dumbfounded. Here I am, bottom of the social food chain again, diploma in hand and ready to change the world…except…how?

All around me, I look at my graduating class and see a hodgepodge of mixed emotions. Some, with deadly intent, know what they want to do with their lives, know what they want to become and how to become it…perhaps that’s what makes them so successful. She wants to be a lawyer and will start law school in the fall, he wants to be a banker and will start working for Morgan-Stanley come July….

While others are just as lost as I am, thinking to themselves, “is this really what I want to become?” and second guessing. I guess 16 years of schooling never did prepare us for this moment…And let me tell you, that feeling and pressure is ridiculously scary.

But while talking to a close friend of mine, he explained to me one very important thing. Right now, in our lives, is the only time in our entire lives, where we’ll have the opportunity and freedom to do anything we choose. And in the end, it’s better to take your time, and choose a life that you want to live, rather than a life you need to live.

And it was these words that stuck with me, and got me over the stress of not knowing what tomorrow may bring. And it’s also these words, which I hope will also help others who may be in a similar predicament as me to get past the fear of not knowing about tomorrow.

I take pride in knowing that what separates me from those individuals who know what they want, is that now may be the only time in my entire life where I’ll get to take a few steps back, and ready myself for the sprint of life up ahead.

(Sudbury Inn—Bethel, Maine)

Hi readers! Long time no see, I guess that’s quite the big understatement since I seem to have not written a blog entry since August. That’s completely my fault and I apologize. Senior year at W&M is filled with all sorts of fun, or it can be filled with all sorts of work and one never has time to get around to nearly everything on his checklist (including blogging), unfortunately, the latter just happens to be me.

To tell you the truth, I’m blogging to all of you from all the way up north in Maine today. And I figured the story of how I got to be in this northern, cold, state is in and of itself blog-worthy.

This is a blog entry to prove to all of you non-believers that William and Mary students have fun and we know how to have fun. In actuality, I’m up here skiing and freezing my butt off, but having a great time and I’m doing it for college credit through a 1-credit kinesiology class I decided to take this year aptly named: skiing and snowboarding in Maine.

For all you non-W&M folks, there are certain classes that you can take at William and Mary on a “pass/fail” basis. These are usually electives for certain departments ranging from government to religious studies that are offered in addition to the major 3-credit courses. Kinesiology just happens to have the most fun, active ones around.

I mean, in all honesty, who wouldn’t want to ski around for credit? Or throw people around in Judo? Or do team-building exercise in Adventure Games? Or climb sheer cliffs in Mountain Climbing? Or…you get the picture.

So here I am, (thankfully by a warm fireplace AWAY from the freezing cold) blogging about Maine.

Our class has been quite far. The nearly 16-hour bus ride up here was a bit of a pain to handle. (Might need a massage once I get back south) and the slopes have been a bit icy.

But our instructors have been amazing. Each day is basically a lesson filled day from morning, a couple hours of free-ski during lunch, and then lessons again in the afternoon.

I personally am part of the intermediate ski-group, with an instructor named Paul, who I think is completely awesome. He knows what he’s doing, and will give you very accurate advice as to what you need to improve on.

In my case, I am incredibly slow going down slopes. The rest of the group speeds down at mach 3 while I’m in my little dinky vespa taking my sweet time down slopes. Not to mention my right turn is also horrendously bad, think wedge shaped skis, and that wouldn’t be too far off from the truth.

All in all though, that’s what I’m here for. I know how to ski like a beginner, but I don’t know where to go from here. And, as Paul has so graciously taught me so far, there’s really nowhere to go but up from here. (Or, in the case if being on a slope, down.)

And so here I am, in the lobby of the Sudbury Inn (which is the only place with wifi ack!), sipping on hot chocolate and writing about a class I’ve been looking forward to for the greater half of a semester.

Oh it’s going to be a great week.

Over the summer, William and Mary students can be seen globally doing a myriad of activities. From service trips to study abroad to internships in foreign areas, it’s hard to plan any decent get together with my on-campus friends when my on-campus friends are in locations like China, Japan, Ireland, and France.

But for me, this summer, there were no exciting foreign excursions or exploring funny quirks of people from abroad like last year. I decided to stay right here, at home, in good ol’ Richmond, Virginia.

You see, ever since the beginning of this year, I’ve been exploring a new aspect of journalism at W&M, a broad field called Public Relations, and it only seemed natural to me that I continue it into the summer as a student intern at Virginia Commonwealth University’s medical campus in downtown Richmond.

Before this year, I had only worked as, what many communications professionals refer to as “hard news journalism,” reporting objectively on news as it happens for a newspaper, eventually making my way up to co-news editor, and managing a section.

Then, in January, I decided to pursue this new field, serving mainly as a writing intern at William and Mary News, writing feature articles and “positive” news stories as they occur around campus.

Public relations often get a bad rap from hard news journalists, who often refer to the field as the “dark side” of journalism. In a sense, that’s true. One of the many jobs of public relations officials is to find ways to promote a specific label or message to the general public using the media. Thus, articles that often come out of public relations bureaus are often press releases slanted towards promoting one thing or the other.

Photo taken on a shoot on the last day of internship. Funny how the first and last story I covered this summer was out of that building behind me. (Photo courtesy of Melissa Gordon, VCU Public Relations)

Photo taken on a shoot on the last day of internship. Funny how the first and last story I covered this summer was out of that building behind me. (Photo courtesy of Melissa Gordon, VCU Public Relations)

But it truly wasn’t until this summer, where I realized that being a “public relations specialist” is more than just simply writing positive news articles. It’s maintaining an active relationship with existing media entities, it’s ensuring the safe and effective communication in the case of an emergency, it’s planning and carrying out press requests while simultaneously ensuring the safety of your own organization, all the while promoting the positive message of a label to the local community.

In a sense, my interning at William and Mary taught me about these facets of PR as a foundation. But it really wasn’t until this summer where for the first time, I was put into a situation where I needed to do public relations for a medical center, where I realized just how important the role of a public relations specialist is.

Having a hospital as your label complicates things much more than having a liberal arts college.
Suddenly, you’re thrust into a situation where it’s not just the safety of students, but potential safety of patients that’s also at risk. In addition, because VCU Medical Center, being a Level 1 trauma center, is where they take most victims of gunshot wounds or serious car accidents in the greater Richmond area, as a PR professional, your contact with the local media is unusually higher than at a small school like W&M.

Thus, the importance of having effective PR professionals is suddenly much more important in a hospital setting than ever before.

True, there were certain aspects of PR that I came in knowing. I came in knowing how to write feature articles, how the PR professional relationship with the local media works, and how important promoting the VCU medical center label was.

But there were also several hurdles I had to overcome. For one, getting over the challenge of having to think of patient safety in addition to student/faculty safety in media relationships was especially challenging for me. William and Mary is a relatively small campus with students and faculty that understand media, for the most part anyways. VCU, likewise, but add to that fact patients and their families that have just undergone serious stress, and you have yourself a firm PR challenge when trying to organize the press and promote an image. Perhaps, most importantly, patients in the care of the hospital are the hospital’s responsibility until discharge, which also means it’s the PR professional’s responsibility to ensure their safety too.

I think, for me, another huge challenge I had to get over was adjusting to writing in a medical sphere. At William and Mary, sure, I covered complex articles, but never something that involved terms like “B-cell lymphocytic leukemia” or “hematopoesis” or “hypertensive and atherosclerotic cardiovascular disease.” Understanding and gaining a basic understanding of the terms I was writing about, was just part of the obstacle I had to overcome as an intern. Researchers had spent several decades trying to understand a specific topic, I had to learn it in a little over an hour and simplify it for the general public: that was a challenge.

Thirdly, and most importantly, working at a hospital, you deal with miracle-like stories of success most of the time, but unfortunately, you also deal a lot with death. It’s unavoidable, it just comes with the territory. At William and Mary, deaths do happen, but usually less than once a year, if you’re lucky. At VCU Medical Center, death happens almost every day, and it’s how you deal with the deaths that could affect how the media views a particular death. I don’t think I’ve still mastered talking about something like that….

People too often paint a picture of public relations as a bunch of spin-doctors that care nothing about the objective reporting. Nothing could be farther from the truth. The job that PR professionals do in the field to promote a message is indeed important, but they do so much more to ensure the safety of individuals that really made me value my time at VCU’s Office of Communications and Public Relations.

July 8, 2010-(Tea Room, Inn at Shelburne Farms-Shelburne, VT)

For the past two days, I’ve focused a lot of my efforts on writing about the significance of the area in which I was staying, but I haven’t really talked a lot about Vermont itself. Before this trip, if you were to ask me what was in Vermont, I probably would’ve said…uh, skiing (question mark?)

How very wrong I was, and it just so happened that in the course of my search for what exactly made up Vermont “culture” I uncovered a lifestyle completely different from the laid-back, southern lifestyle I was so used to living in Virginia for all these years.

For one, Vermonters are very active, healthy, people. It’s immediately prevalent when you visit cities like Montpelier and Burlington that these people value the outdoors, and preserving their treasured wildlife. Biking, walking, and running trails are everywhere, both in the cities and the townships. Bike shops are everywhere too, and they certainly are not small. Even the towns of only a few hundred had a bike shop larger than the local car dealership.

In fact, in some places, it even seems like bike trails have taken a priority in the eyes of the city planners over cars themselves. And in other places, it almost seems as if Vermonters would have installed bike trails on the interstates as well if it weren’t for the fact that the federal Department of Transportation had rights over those.

Thus, it really isn’t that hard to bike from place to place, township to township in Vermont. Assuming one has the willpower and the muscle to do it, one could easily bike from one end of Vermont to the other using bike trails that have been painted on to all of the major state roads.

In fact, according to one Vermonter I had the pleasure of talking with, she truly believed that for the most part, if they had a choice, most Vermonters would bike from point A to B instead of using a vehicle.

Now, I found this interesting, especially in the case with the College of William and Mary and Williamsburg. Cyclists both around the area and at W&M have constantly been advocating a need to change Williamsburg into a more cyclist friendly road. But it wasn’t until I saw cities like Burlington where bikes take priority over emission producing cars where I realized for the first time what exactly it meant to be a “bike-friendly” town.

Williamsburg can certainly take a few notes from towns like Burlington and Montpelier that have established trails that make it easy to travel from point A to point B. I’m sure that within a couple years, they’d find that the city would become both greener, healthier, and as a result, happier too.

But then again, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised at the activeness of Vermonters. They live in an region of the country where being active just comes with the job. The rock climbing, skiing, snowshoeing, kayaking, cycling, running activities are quite literally in their backyards.

Thus, in the absence of surprise, one can only help but be awed by how different, and (quite frankly relatively lazy) Virginians are in comparison. If you live in Virginia, just think about how many times a day where you didn’t have to drive somewhere. I don’t know about you, but for me, I have to drive at least 10 minutes for the nearest supermarket on a highway that’s barely wide enough to fit 3 lanes, let alone a bike.

The other thing about Vermonters that I feel makes up a great part of defining who they are is their immense pride and support of buying local. And I don’t mean simply local produce from farmers, I mean everything.

One of the products that Vermonters love to buy local are dairy products. Here is an example of a small cheese farm mixing the milk to prepare to turn it into curd and whey.

This is a movement that’s only begun to take shape in Virginia through the use of farmer’s markets and the like, but a majority of us in Virginia still like to buy our goods from the local supermarket who may have imported the product from god knows where? (9 times out of 10, wherever’s cheapest)

And it’s not entirely our fault as buyers either. There really isn’t much to choose from in terms of local products in Virginia, maybe ham, peanuts, and the occasional cheese stick. We as a state really rely on imported goods and services from other parts of the nation.

But in Vermont, you can see the benefits of buying local with your very own eyes everywhere you turn. It’s part of what’s given Vermont-based companies their firm foundation by which they grew upon.

Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, Burton Snowboards, Cabot cheeses, Lake Champlain chocolates, Green Mountain coffee, company brands you see everyday grew to where they are today because a small state populace absolutely is obsessed with supporting local small-businesses.

And Vermont’s an excellent example of where the ultimate goal of buying local has been achieved: when companies who have gotten huge in the world finally look back and help the local small-businesses and farmers

Ben and Jerry's is a great example of one of a local Vermont company that grew into a global corporate giant through tremendous local support.

themselves prosper.

Take Ben and Jerry’s for instance. Their fame was reached in large part because of humongous support from the people of the state of Vermont. As a result, now, as a world-renown corporation, it has made giving back to the community one of its three core mission statements. In addition, every bite of the ice cream you love, is made from the milk of thousands of Vermont dairy farmers who have pledged to keep their milk hormone free. We as consumers get better ice cream, Vermont-based Ben and Jerry’s continues to be able to support the local agricultural community. A win-win situation if you ask me.

Morse Sugarfarms is a small local farm that sells pure 100% Vermont maple syrup and is one of the few farms that still does so in the state.

Or take Burton Snowboards, a company that changed a whole industry around the world with its products. But at first, the company was as grassroots as it could be, peddling their wares to local Vermonters. It wasn’t until local Vermont ski resorts, with convincing from Burton Snowboards founder Jeff Burton, became one of the first in the nation to open up their lifts to snowboarders where the industry as a whole took off and ultimately, the success of the company.

It’s an amazing amount local support and buying local, not just agriculturally, that really sets Vermont apart from other states I’ve been too. As a result, you get an amazingly, almost mind-boggling amount of successful small businesses and the ability of restaurants to create an almost 100% organic and local menu, something that very few Virginia restaurants can boast.

So, lesson one I learned on this trip, sleeping in nearly 90 degree weather without any air conditioning is…challenging. If you ever want to experience it, go to Barrett Hall or any other freshman dorm at William and Mary during the dead of summer, lock yourself into a room, open the windows with a fan, and try to sleep. Trust me, it’s not very pleasant.

However, lesson two I learned on this trip was what was pleasant: the staff here at the Inn. When they say that they will do their best to try to make your visit the most comfortable, they absolutely mean it. I went through today and watched as they literally managed to somehow move everyone that was on the highly uncomfortable 3rd floor (heat rises, remember) to the 2nd floor, while at the same time accounting for the guests who had already booked their rooms on that floor. So while at the beginning of the day, I found myself in a small, overheated corner room of the inn, tonight, I find myself writing to you from the “Empire Room” of the estate.

The Empire Room at Shelburne Farms used to house VIP guests of the Webbs back in the day. Guests included the likes of Teddy Roosevelt and Admiral Dewey.

The Empire Room, in a word, is gorgeous, in all honesty, all of the guest rooms on the 2nd floor of the inn are. In olden days, whereas the small, double bed rooms like the Red Room and Cherry Room were reserved solely for the bachelors, rooms like the Empire Room on the 2nd floor were generally reserved for VIP guests who were staying at the Shelburne Farms estate. According to the pamphlet provided, such VIP guests included the likes of Lila Vanderbilt’s mother, Maria Vanderbilt (daughter-in-law to Cornelius Vanderbilt, the famous railroad entrepreneur), Teddy Roosevelt, and Admiral Dewey.

I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel a bit special that I may be staying in a room that Teddy Roosevelt stayed in almost 130 years ago…

Each room on the second floor is also interesting in that it is adorned with a specific theme.

For example, the Empire Room where I currently am on the bed writing from is decorated with a theme of royalty that was made popular by Napoleon in the late 19th century. Thus, the wallpaper in the room looks like a royal crest while the fireplace is adorned with columns and goddesses. Adjacent to my room, where my parents were moved to, was the Louis XVI Room, which literally looks like a room out of the Versailles Palace.

Hopefully, things will be a bit cooler down here, which I can already feel they are.

The Webbs loved carriage rides, as can be attested by the Coach Barn in Shelburne Farms, a two story structure that used to house more than 30 carriages back in the day.

The rest of today was spent touring the other buildings on the farm and learning more about the history of the farm itself.

Yesterday, I explained that Shelburne Farms was a haven for the rich to get away from the city. But, as always, there’s much more to the story than just that. After Lila Vanderbilt’s father passed away, he wanted to ensure that there were no estate disputes after his death like his father, Cornelius Vanderbilt has caused due to favoritism among his sons. To prevent such disputes, Lila’s father decided to evenly split up his estate among all of his sons and  daughters all of which, he thought, deserved part of the Vanderbilt fame. Thus, Lila came to acquire several million dollars by which Shelburne Farms was funded. The location for the farms themselves were chosen when William Seward Webb, scouting out properties for the Vanderbilt railcar company, fell in love with the land that ultimately became the town of Shelburne, VT. Thus, Shelburne Farms was born.

From the very beginning, Webb’s mission for the farms was to create a “model farm” by which other farms could follow in the footsteps of. As a model farm, Shelburne needed to be the pinnacle of greatness, both in aesthetics as well as the practical.

The farm represents the pinnacle of sustainable farming. 70 percent of foods cooked at the inn consist of ingredients grown or raised on the farm. (Unfortunately, I think I scared the living daylights out of this chicken...)

Thus, we see a farm whose buildings were designed by the famous architect Robert H. Robertson, known for his eyebrow windows, and landscaping done by Fredrick Olmstead, creator of Central Park in New York. We see that Robertson incorporated all architectural styles in his planning, while at the same time accounting for location and pragmatism.

We also see pastures and fields designed by Olmstead to always please the

The Rambling, a similar one of which also is in New York's Central Park, is an example of how Olmstead used forestry to provide both an aesthetic and a practical use on Shelburne Farms. Here, the cool undergrowth lowers the temperature on a hot day by nearly 10 degrees.

eye and give the look of rolling pastures. As our tour guide said today, “nothing is linear, no direct line from A to B, everything is curved to give the illusion that there’s always something more to be seen.” Like Central Park, Olmstead also realized the great potential that tress serve in the soil and the aesthetic beauty that simple “islands” of tress could bring to a pasture to make it greener.

But the farms themselves have not had an easy time through the ages. During the early 20th century, the establishment of the income tax and the estate tax made it so that by the 1950s, upkeep of the farm with its large acreage was almost impossible to maintain. Alec Webb, current President of the Shelburne Farms Board of Directors, remembers one 1950s day where their father brought the whole family to the South Porch of the house to discuss the possibility of selling off the land.

The farm's main output consists of a cheddar cheese made from the milk of hundreds of cows that can be seen at all times of days on the pasture. But don't expect to find these cheeses at your local Kroger's.

But due to the fact that most of the family members were opposed to the idea, Shelburne Farms was able to continue to grow into what it is today: a farm that produces some of the best cheddar cheese in Vermont, and arguably in all of New England, but also a teaching and learning center for safe and ecologically friendly agricultural practices.

In my opinion, it’s nice to see a farm for once that isn’t entirely bent on profits. All too often nowadays, and more significantly with the recession, I feel like today’s world focuses too much on quota and cost, especially in the agricultural world where prices are constantly fluctuating. I think it’s great that someone out there is finally taking a step back and quite frankly asking ourselves: what exactly are we doing to this Earth, and in what ways can we live with mother nature, not live because of mother nature.