Over the past decade, algal biodiesel has been flaunted as the knight in shining armor for the renewable fuels industry. Over four years ago, a handful of companies have made commitments to produce commercial-scale quantities of biodiesel from the promising green creatures. To date, many of these commitments have not been met as companies realize there are more hurdles to commercialization than they had previously anticipated.

Challenges to Production

One of the most prominent issues with algae is their innate genetic code. Many algae only produce the oil needed for biodiesel when they are low on food, but with adequate nutrition, they tend to produce a much larger portion of undesirable carbohydrates. Researchers have vastly improved the oil yields through genetic engineering, but it is a timely process that requires a careful understanding of the organisms’ genes and metabolism.

As production is scaled up, engineers and scientists also face the problem of keeping the algae comfortable. Algae typically prefer calm environments, whereas the turbulent conditions of large, continuous culture systems are often unfavorable for growth. Furthermore, there has to be some way to distribute sunlight evenly to all of the algae cells without excessive agitation–assuming photosynthetic algae are used. Many in the field are investigating innovative solutions from light pipes to intelligently designed ponds that can provide efficient means of spreading light to individual cells. Regardless, the U.S. National Renewable Energy Laboratory and university researchers have concluded that open ponds are the only economical route to commercial production. Hurdles like these present tough decisions for the many startups attempting to reach large-scale success.

Race to Commercialization

One of these companies, Solazyme, appears to have successfully overcome these hurdles, and they’re growing quickly. In the past year, the California-based company has experienced 63% employee growth and reached nearly $40 million in sales–impressive in comparison to its competitors’ performance. The U.S. Navy has purchased thousands of gallons of their diesel fuel and has contracts to buy more. Where others have reached standstills, Solazyme appears to be succeeding because it takes a unique approach to algae production. While most startups use phototropic algae, which use sunlight to grow, Solazyme is developing a high-growth heterotrophic alga that grows off of other plant-based materials. This significantly reduces costs by allowing the algae to grow in smaller spaces, whereas other operations require vast arrays of algae tanks to harness the sun’s energy.

The Winning Strategy

The up-and-coming company has not only managed to excel with their technology, but they have also taken a novel approach in developing their business strategy. Rather than extracting the target ingredient, oil, from the algae and throwing the rest away, Solazyme uses many other components of the algae in other sectors. They recently entered a joint venture with Roquette Frères to develop the nutritional outputs of their workhorse algae, which essentially come down to the algae’s ability to create tailored edible oils from crop residues and other plant materials. The nutrition division has incorporated algal-based ingredients into baked goods, mayonnaise, salad dressing, and egg substitutes. They are now working on meat substitutes and enhancers that could result in large contracts with Tyson Foods and Hormel Foods.

Not only does Solazyme sell its algal oils for foods, but they are also targeting a number of other consumer products. Plane de-icing fluids, shampoo, and soap all require specific types of oil that the algae can provide. They are also making an appeal to the cosmetics markets with applications for toiletries, makeup, hair care, and skin care.

Solazyme’s broad-reaching business strategy has served it well, and it may not take long for others to follow suit. As we look to the future, we can likely expect strong competitors in the algal fuel industry as technology improves and businesses mature…then we’ll start seeing those long-awaited algae farms.

Read More

Milledge J. 2010 Feb. The Challenge of Algal Fuel: Economic Processing of the Entire Algal Biomass. Energy Bulletin. <http://www.energybulletin.net/51501>. Accessed 2012 June 21.

Solazyme. 2012. Market Areas: Overview. <http://solazyme.com/market-areas>. Accessed 2012 June 21.

Westenhaus, B. 2008 Dec. The Algae Problems. New Energy and Fuel. <http://newenergyandfuel.com/http:/newenergyandfuel/com/2008/12/22/the-algae-problems/>. Accessed 2012 June 21.

LaMonica M. 2011 Mar. Algae-oil maker Solazyme files to go public. <http://news.cnet.com/8301-11128_3-20042446-54.html>. Accessed 2012 June 21.

As hundreds of people bathe around me, though the water below stays murky, a mysterious clouded brown, my mind’s eye clears. I have made it to the Ganges, India’s holiest river. A place of mediation and prayer in a country of busy streets of honkers, cows and offers of Chihuahua bobble heads. It is here I find a familiar feeling, my first in India: the desire to be washed free of sins, wrongdoings and bad karma.

Among those bathing in the Ganges, the wealthy and the poor, the mothers and merchants, street children and backpackers, that morning and every morning, I identified. The feeling people find there is the same feeling countless others, including myself, crave at different points in our lives.

In India, in Hinduism, a bath in the Ganges River brings you moksha – freedom from samsara, or the cycle of life. For the people bathing, this is their moment. They travel from all regions and corners of the country, unflenching on hot and crowded trains, buses and rickshaws.

Thousands come everyday. The taxi driver who overcharged us last night will probably be here this morning, doing what is necessary to clean his consciousness. The pilgrim from South India may come here, moving into the hospice home above the river, waiting to be released from this life, the ultimate moksha in Hinduism: being cremated at the Ganges. It is what makes Varanasi known as the city you go to die.

Moments comes when we all want a clean slate or fresh start, to turn over a new leaf or begin a new chapter. As many ways as there are to say it, there are to do it. In every religion, every culture and every place, there is a way to escape your past. In Catholicism, devotees go into the nondescript confessional room. Behind a shade, they openly confess and are forgiven by the person on the other side. Muslims fast during the month of Ramadan to feel rejuvenated. All ways to be cleansed, to put something in the past and be freed of mistakes or bad memories.

For me, my Ganges River moment was when I moved the 500-odd miles out of state to North Carolina, my life-so-far’s biggest yatra, or pilgrimage. I wanted to feel renewed, to have a new energy and optimism for life. I was looking for new perspectives from people who thought differently than people I had been surrounded by since kindergarten. It took me to India to realize what I was looking for had a name: moksha.

Just when I thought I wasn’t going to be able to start anew, even after this move, I was accepted into the Caldwell Fellows program and community. I now have friends that renew me every day, give me new perspectives and a full life. I am so glad to have found this release.

Every conversation with a Caldwell Fellow is a bit of freedom from samsara and every potluck like a bath in the Ganges. : )

From where I stand I can see the laugh lines of the Himalayas. When my eyes close I can hear the whisper of the elephants. Rhinos stomp fast against the breeze of the fireflies. Bengal tigers play tag against the crocodile. From where I stand my life is still.

-Saul Flores, 2011

From where I stand I can see downtown Raleigh. Though the streets are empty by day, they are lively on Friday night. The humid air causes beads of sweat to roll down my back as I bike down Fayetville street. When I close my eyes, my mind is filled of happy memories of nights out with friends. From where I stand my life is joyful.

-Alex Martin, 2011

From where I stand I gaze upon cubicles as far as the eye can see. In these densely crowded corridors, some of the greatest minds I have yet to meet sit and work furiously as they await the day that they might be able to procure an “office”. One day, that will be me, I have always learned to shoot for the stars, and here, the stars are embodied in the collection of four solid walls with which you can block out the sounds of excessively hard typing. From where I stand my life is anxious.

-Alan Sheridan, 2013

From where I stand or actually sit I hear the constant drown of a crop sprayer as I coast over acres of this years cotton crop. I look out and see both tobacco and cotton and have a firm appreciation for them both. These are the crops that helped build our nation and my family farm. I see the love and care that my great-grandfather put into this land so that I too could love and appreciate farming just as he did. I see a way of life that is slowly disappearing as more and more family farms disappear into history. From where I stand I am a part of a dying breed. Safe travels to all.

-Matt Drake, 2013

From where I stand chaos is controlled. Behind the guise of starch white lab coats, sterilized surfaces, warning labels and latex gloves lies the intrigue of the unknown. An inconspicuous agar plate colony grows to millions of bacteria, teeming to escape their glass containers. Proteins run fast under electric gel currents to show their own original pattern. A mix of enzymes transcribes and transforms DNA like a well-oiled machine- almost as efficient as the human body. From where I stand I begin to see the complexity, the miracle that is life.

-Jessica Neville, 2013

From where I stand I see beautiful people. People who some others see as sick, vulnerable, or poor, but to me are people who despite difficulties embrace life with open arms. I see people who have accepted me, trusted me, and showed me so much love. My days have been filled with laughter from all the stories about hallucinations as a side effect of Antiretroviral treatment, and it has been filled with sadness as I hear a mother speak about her guilt for transmitting HIV to her newborn. I feel success when I reach out to others on an emotional level, and I feel frustration when a young mother is crying her eyes out and all I can do is hold her hand because of the language barrier. But most importantly, from where I stand I see people living not dying with HIV.

-Sindhu Ravishankar, 2011

From where I stand I can feel a warm breeze coming through the window of a youth hostel. I see a lawn full of weeds, yet perfect for a late night game of Kubb. The street beyond the lawn is lined with colorful Swedish homes and perfectly trimmed bushes. The voices of other Americans, Swedes, and travelers fill the hallways of the hostel. A woman with bleach blonde hair coasts by on her beach cruiser as the sun beats down on a beautiful, lazy, wonderful summer day.

-Summer Higdon, 2014

From where I stand I see beautiful buildings and monuments that celebrate our nation’s history and ideals; I think of how lucky I am to be an American, and how much I owe to the people who fight for equality, justice, and freedom. As I shift my gaze from the scenery outside to my desk, I am quickly reminded that not everyone is as fortunate. I see photographs, letters, newspaper articles, and press releases, all of which detail and depict horrible human rights abuses that occur every day all over the world. While it is easy to be discouraged and disheartened in an environment like this, the people around me make it so easy to feel inspired. From where I stand I see many individuals who are dedicated to ending human rights abuses and who refuse to become jaded regardless of what they witness and experience.

-Medha Surampudy, 2012

From where I stand can feel the many beautiful paths of travelers around me. Some spill their life story in proper brittish, aspirations to save the world one child at a time. Some convey their desire to learn spanish and see the world, secretly only wishing to escape the grueling 14 hr days of the Thai business culture. “I sell house to come here. Thai work too hard. People not see anything and only work! They crazy.”

Some are best friends from Texas, their two year reunion filled with stories littered with so many inside jokes and silly accents people can barely understand them. All share in this beauty under the scorching Nicaraguan sun. People from around the world brought together by a simple love of travel. From where I stand, I can see the world.

-Kevin Miller, 2013

The people I had planned to meet were out at the Hofbräuhaus, the most popular restaurant in München for tourists from around the world. With its enormous seating capacity and €7 Maße (liter-sized beers) that are served upon taking a seat, it’s not hard to see why this restaurant stands out. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Hofbräuhaus brings in over a hundred grand per night–with a large chunk coming from the two Bavarians at our table.

Later in the night, we had the opportunity to meet more lively German locals who invited us to enjoy the evening with them after meeting us on the U-Bahn. Unfortunately, it led to a loss of one member of our group who attempted to walk home on his own. We found him later sleeping on a bench in the U-Bahn station. It was time to get him home. All would be well soon, but…he wasn’t on the train with us anymore. We had lost him again. One moment we were saying goodbye to the kind locals, and then we were on our way back in the subway with our friend nowhere in sight. Later in the night, our new German friends proved once again how kind they were by bringing our friend back home. We were all set to leave at 7am–in just a few hours–on our way to the mountains.

As our luck would have it, we missed the train. Others were headed in the same direction, so we weren’t completely doomed yet. We didn’t know if our ticket was valid for these trains, but we kept to the philosophy of “don’t ask questions.” Sure enough, we were forced off the train, left in a small town of which we had never heard. Nonetheless, we boarded another one headed south, still unsure if our group ticket was valid. For some reason, the ticket was indeed valid this time around, but we woke up to another roadblock on this ride. We awoke simultaneously to an empty train and the conductor kindly urging us to run to the bus. There is no way to express our confusion in words. I still do not know what town we stopped in, why the train was de-boarded of all passengers, or where the bus took us. I do know that, somehow, we made it to Berchtesgaden later that day, only about three hours past our target time.

Berchtesgaden from Above

Berchtesgaden is a quiet little town nestled between the mountains of the Bavarian Alps. Our hotel was nicely situated across from the train station and beside the river with its pristine turquoise water flowing gently through the town. The downpour didn’t stop us from taking a walk through town as well as the neighboring mountains, which were by no means an indicator of the beasts we would climb the next day.

Hotel Grünberger

We started bright and early on Sunday to take a ferry across the Königsee to St. Bartholomä, the hub for the best hikes in the area. On the way across the glacial lake, our tour guide pulled out a trumpet and started playing it to the mountains. We listened intently as the mountains played the tune back to him…Not even sound could escape these beasts.

Königsee

Our first hike was intended to be a quick visit to the Eiskapelle, a small snowfield about an hour’s walk from St. Barthomolä, but we found it difficult to end our exploration of the ridges and waterfalls of the area.

Eiskapelle

After breaking for a PB&J lunch, we had our first taste of danger. I was the first to have my leg slip off the side, but I quickly recovered. In the same spot, our friend lost her footing completely.

Valley leading to the Eiskapelle Snowfield

Luckily, it wasn’t the side of the ridge that was completely vertical. Our second encounter with the danger of the Alps was during our climb up the Watzmann, the third tallest mountain in Germany.

Berchtesgaden Park

A small plaque in the rock commemorated the death of a hiker who had died a couple years ago hiking on this trail. Some sections of the trail aren’t what you might typically consider to be trail. We climbed up on steel rods anchored into the bare cliff. The awe-inspiring views outweighed the dangers by a long shot, though no photo can capture their glory.

Bergsteigen: Hiking up the Watzmann

Brian Schuster
My Blog

I must be crazy. This summer I decided to buck the more traditional molds of summers full of gallivanting, researching or interning and try something that was in many ways none of those and in others all of them. I decided to start a company.

The top 5 facts:

1. I don’t get paid – in fact I’m in the red. And I work 80+ hours per week.

2. Most put chances of success at 10%. And seemingly much of it is left up to chance.

3. Competition is ruthless. Nearly every company on the web is a player.

4. The problems are not just hard, they’re are hugely difficult technical challenges.

5. And huge challenges involved with starting / redefining an entire market.

My top 5 reasons:

1. I’d rather be doing something I love, working my butt off, for a cause I believe in, with the potential to change the world making a pinnate of pennies any day, any week, any month of my life. The world lends huge dividends, economic and otherwise, to those who accept calculated risk and embrace it.

2. Anything significant has a small degree of probability of succeeding any single time. Important solutions are almost inherently big problems with lots of variables. They either haven’t been tried or more likely many have failed before. Curing cancer, creating the lightbulb, you name it – innovation is hard. As it often is – the hardest thing is the most important.

3. Competition? Thank goodness! The fact that they exist means that I’m not completely off-base. I am thankful for validation of my idea and a little healthy competition to burn the midnight oil. Because – they’re doing it wrong obviously. Failure teaches me more than success. Fail forward faster.

4. Genius is overrated. Showing up is underrated. The harder the problems, the greater the reward. The harder the problems, the harder it will be for others to copy you. Every obstacle overcome is one step closer to your goal – and one more barrier to entry. Showing up is the hardest step.

5. This is the big momma. The fact that – if one million variables (and stars) align, if the timing is right, and the team is ready, if the idea matches what the world is demanding then the world embraces it. And it changes the world. I’m not sure I could work on and for anything less.

So please call me crazy – I think it’s rather becoming. It looks good on you too.

A lot of people say starting a company is like jumping out of a plane, and trying to build your parachute on the way down. Sounds like fun, right?

Stay up to date on the adventure: knowitapp.com

Cup of tea and the Times of India. Half a world away from my usual coffee and Raleigh News and Observer.
It is my third morning in Delhi, and there is now some familiarity to this place. Twelve of us are finally all here, our arrivals spread over several days and with four days in Delhi we have some time to adjust to this very different world before we begin an intense traveling agenda. The safe girl part of me is relishing this little chapter as I write from the air conditioned comfort of my room at the Kingston Park Hotel in New Delhi. Outside it is sunny and it seems that yesterday’s sweet rain and break in the heat will be only a memory today. Day before yesterday it was 114 F.

Step outside our hotel and India broadsides you with a hard kick upside the head. Delhi is a city of 10 million people and half of them are on the road at any given time, zipping about each other in a hodgepodge of red and yellow auto rickshaws, compact cards, bicycle rickshaws, motorcycles, trucks and the occasional horse or brahma bull. We arrived in the midst of a taxi strike and the first day we depended on whatever means we could find to get about. Day one I rode two auto rickshaws, one bicycle rickshaw, and a makeshift taxi/ van. Whatever the means we squeeze as many of our bodies in as we can get, plus one more (student groups travel low on money and high on willingness to sacrifice comfort.) The final rickshaw ride of the day about did me in. We were far from our hotel and finding a driver willing to go the distance with us took multiple attempts. With no taxis working (recall the strike) we finally found a reluctant but willing auto rickshaw driver who allowed four of us to fill his bench fit for two. Fitted onto the engine of a motorcycle, the rickshaw was straining with the four of us
plus driver. Still, that was the least of the drama. It was evening and the heaviest traffic time of the day. I dared not hang on with my hand clenching the side of the rickshaw frame, for fear of losing a hand…. yes, traffic cuts that close. There are traffic lane markers which seem
only to serve as guides for staying straight for the drivers who split lanes by driving on the line. Roundabouts abound in this city (a thank you
to former British occupation, I wager) and they seem to operate like a swarm of fish in a feeding frenzy, drivers charge in and somehow
(miraculous to me) come out in the other side. I, however, will need to up my next birthday count by one year, as I am sure I have lost a
year of life from the stress of it all.

Readers, relax. We aren’t spending all of this trip dependent on such piecemeal mode of transportation. For months we have been working with a travel company on this end who have handled our hotel bookings and our transport from city to city. Yesterday from inside a mini bus that comfortably carried our group, we began an undertaking of the major sites of Delhi. Saved from the distraction of hanging-on-for-dear-life, we could take in the larger view as we moved about the city. What I cannot fathom is the endless amount of broken concrete and crumbling buildings. Combine poor materials and construction with a brutal weather system . . . this is apparently what you get. And amidst the rubble stretched along the roadside are the shanties which are the makeshift homes of countless persons. What bit of green that exists is well
worm by the traffic of those countless people.

So why have we come to this faraway and often wearying place? Because we know there is also so much more to India and so much we have to learn. We have come to open our minds and hearts. Stay tuned.
- Janice Odom

By Ariel Fugate, Class of 2012

Post 3 of 3:

As part of my self-design degree, I have learned to think as a sociologist. Sociologists often break down successful progression and vitality of a community into an abundance of several forms of capital, one of the most foundational being social capital, or simply how willingly people move beyond self and familial interest to think about the future and well-being of the entire community. Social capital is collaboration by all to make community decisions and has two halves to its whole: bonding social capital and bridging social capital. Bonding is networks between individuals and groups with homogenous backgrounds and goals. Bridging is connections between all groups, even groups outside the community, resulting in heterogeneity and inclusive decision-making.

Rural towns are considered by sociologists to have “strong boundaries” because of their high bonding social capital paired with low bridging capital. Rural communities are homogenous communities that view outsiders with suspicion of change they represent. In this situation, only insiders are trusted and thus only insiders are given opportunities or included in community planning. This causes exclusion of newcomers, immigrants or not. You can see how it would be difficult to move back to such an “exclusive” community after being exposed to university or urban life.

In communities with both bonding and bridging, such as urban centers or college towns, “progressive participation” occurs, in which the future and prosperity of all interests are taken into account. With both, collaborative action occurs and this high social capital spurs subsequent financial, built, natural, political, cultural and human capital, i.e. progress… the progress necessary to stop rural brain drain, to make rural areas just as desirable to live in as urban centers.

That being said, it will be no easy task for rural communities to become more accepting and it will be no easy task for immigrants to suddenly feel welcome in the community where they were first received with hostility and hate. Immigrants within these communities have neither bonding or bridging social capital because of this way were first treated by their neighbors, employers and the community at large. This causes them to be “extreme individualists,” where they may perpetuate inequalities by apathy for this originally hostile community.

So what CAN ruralites do to welcome their neighbor? What if Southerners shared their pie recipes with immigrants and what if immigrants were able to share their tamale recipes with Southerners? What if the two groups could attend each other’s church masses? What if they could share cultures like this? We need programs and initiatives focused on outreach and cultural appreciation. We also need policy makers and planners in these rural areas to see that immigrants have equal and approachable access to such things as high-quality education, recreational facilities and public programs. Assuring equal access, outreach and reverse of symbolic laws will reduce apathy of immigrants in rural areas and encourage collaboration. Personal invitations should be extended to immigrants to both social functions and civic decision-making meetings and lines of communication kept clear. Because immigrants often work in factories and farms, they have long hours, so meetings should be held at times and places they can afford to attend. To promote a “safe space” for civic participation and non-intimidation, decision-making groups should not have leadership positions that are life-long, among other things.

Immigrants are the new class of Americans. They can help us save the rural Heartland. Let us embrace them and we will stand truly united.

Up in the coming weeks: I will be writing about what a university we visited in Mexico is doing to reduce rural brain drain in Mexico and make life better in their rural areas. I will highlight UPAEP in Puebla, Mexico and their program, Microregion.

By Ariel Fugate, Class of 2012

Post 2 of 3

Anyone who has spent a decent amount of time in a rural area can observe tension between the local population and immigrants, a foreign, usually Spanish-speaking population – the “speak English” bumper stickers and symbolic laws mandating public notices be printed in no other language than English. I think is fair to say immigrants are not currently embraced in most rural towns.

The main reason for this is the shaky assumption that immigrants, the majority of which are indeed present illegally from Latin America, create a reserve pool of labor that keeps wages suppressed in agricultural jobs and jobs from American citizens in general. However, the real situation seems to be that these jobs are so dangerous and laborious that very few Americans are willing to do them. Evidence can be seen in the government’s H2A guestworker program, where farm owners are required to pay agricultural “guest workers” federal minimum wage with free housing and transport to and from their home country. Many Americans work for minimum wage, without free housing, yet farm owners must use these programs to fill the labor shortages. American citizens won’t take these jobs.

Until Americans take these jobs, immigrant current and increasing presence in rural areas is fixed. With populations low in rural areas and schools in need of more children simply to keep the doors open, why not embrace immigrants? Immigrants provide immediate population growth to rural areas, children to keep local schools open, and a larger customer base for local businesses. Some states, such as Iowa, already see embracement of immigrants as a way to address the effects of rural brain drain. One of their mottos for comprehensively transforming rural economies has become “talent, technology and tolerance.”

Though immigrants can simply provide population growth to these rural areas and reduce rural brain drain in this manner, they also have a unique ability to do even more.

If rural areas also become more accepting, more people — young Americans — will consider these communities good places to live. They will begin to return to their hometowns to start their families and businesses. They will attract better health providers and teachers, which will in turn lead to better infrastructure for things like parks and libraries and allow towns to progress.

If you don’t believe this will happen, my final post will give sociological theory behind this phenomena.

Manuel - by Saul Flores

By Ariel Fugate, Class of 2012

This is a part of a series.
Post 1 of 3.

One month ago I was fortunate to go with a group of Caldwell Fellows to Mexico. Where “Caldwell trips” differ from any other trip is the chance for personal, and group, reflection that is worked both purposefully and organically into the already flexible itinerary. With almost 20 trip members, reasons for going strongly varied. For some, it was a chance to make new friends within the program, others were returning to strengthen relationships with people they met the year before, still others felt it was an opportunity to experience another country with the comfort of a nurturing, well-traveled group. For me, it was largely a chance to observe, apply and reflect on some concepts and frameworks I have been studying and discussing in my courses.

As an Interdisciplinary Studies major with a self-design concentration in Sustainable Food Systems, I look at issues surrounding agricultural labor, immigration and rural decline as related to food production, these issues being intimately connected to lives in Latin America. Rural brain drain is an issue I thought of particularly often during this trip: how it is affecting rural America, how it is affecting rural Mexico and what can be done about it? In this series of posts, I will talk about what can be done to address rural brain drain in the United States specifically.

Rural brain drain is a casual term representing the gradual, yet accumulatively mass exodus of young people from rural America. The resultant effects include aging populations and severe population loss, but also extensive consequences developing from those obvious outcomes, such as failing local economies, rife unemployment, shrinking wages and benefits, low school enrollment, unsustainable development, lack of good teachers and health care providers, and few companies to invest in local infrastructure like internet, libraries and recreational facilities. When young people move to colleges and universities, likely in urban centers, they are exposed to economic opportunities, conveniences and services inaccessible in their rural origin. The now educated youth stay in urban America, even encouraged by their families to not return to the increasingly ghost-like rural hometowns. Pretty much exactly the same story is true of rural Mexico and Latin America, except youth flee to both urban centers and north to the United States.

Though the exchange of ideas in these urban areas is crucial to economic progress and progress in general, maintaining towns in rural America and Mexico is crucial for food production, natural resource preservation and employment, thus a truly vital economy and a unified nation. In addition, future developments in renewable energy and sustainable agriculture necessitate the huge land tracts, as well as the history and expertise of rural areas. Rural areas are necessary, so it is necessary to address rural brain drain.

A recent idea for America’s rural brain drain problem being quietly muttered by a few concerned citizens is the embracement of those coming from rural Mexico and Latin America, those who may not be citizens themselves: immigrants.

To find out what what could work, see my next post coming in a few days.

On Thursday night, I went to a benefit dinner for a campus organization that many Caldwell Fellows founded called Bricks Breaking Boundaries.  It is a response to the call for action in this year’s common reading initiative, “Half the Sky.”  In the book, the authors reveal that human sex trafficking is one of the major issues affecting women worldwide.

The students of Bricks Breaking Boundaries are attempting to open a school in Cambodia.  For $20,000, there will be enough money to build the school and pay teachers to educate 100 girls for 10 years.

At the dinner, we heard a speaker from NC Stop Human Trafficking who discussed trafficking issues in our own back yard.  She proposed that to end trafficking worldwide there are many actions Americans can take in the form of activism.  She also told the audience the importance of how we spend our dollar, and devoted a good five minutes to the topic of fair trade.

After she presented, we had the chance to discuss with our tables and pose questions.  I was amazed that the entire conversation turned to fair trade.  Everyone wanted to know more about it and how it made a difference!  I was amazed at how quickly the conversation turned to fair trade.

We also watched this video, which will give an overview of the horrors facing impoverished girls around the world.

I am excited to see progress with the project – Bricks Breaking Boundaries has already raised $10,000!  So – how does fair trade make a difference?  When we buy fair trade products, we know that the producers work in fair working conditions or work for themselves…they have to meet the standards of the International Labour Organization (ILO).