One Sunday, I was having a casual conversation with my new bishop. My family had recently moved to Vancouver, Washington, from Utah. I was experiencing the typical challenges of moving, but more keenly because I had six months left in high school.
When Bishop Foltz asked about my post-graduation plans, I told him that I was going to buy a one-way ticket and embark on a ten-year, self-guided tour through Europe. Instead of pointing out how flawed that plan was, he wisely asked if I had considered going to college. That answer got tricky.
Until we moved, I had no questions about college. However, in the chaos of packing and cleaning, I had missed the application deadlines for my first-choice schools. Adding to that, I had begun worrying that I wasn’t college material and wouldn’t succeed.
After listening to my explanation, Bishop Foltz asked me what I thought about Brigham Young University and Brigham Young University-Idaho. I had long since deemed myself academically unfit for BYU, and my only knowledge about BYUI came from stereotypes and stigmas my peers had talked about.
Bishop Foltz then explained that each school has a different focus. While BYU is dedicated to research, BYU-Idaho is focused on mentoring the students. At BYU-Idaho, he said I could have personal interactions with teachers who cared about and knew their students. In addition, the mission of BYU-Idaho is to develop disciples of Jesus Christ. Attending BYU-Idaho would allow me to deepen my faith while in an academic setting and learn with people with similar standards.
This information ignited a small flame of hope, especially when I heard the application was still open. I was still worried I wouldn’t get accepted, but Bishop Foltz gently pointed out that I could not be more un-accepted to BYUI than I already was. What was the harm in trying? It seemed like a place to start, so, I took the shot. When I got my acceptance letter, I was speechlessly ecstatic—I was on my way to college!
I applied to BYUI at my bishop’s encouragement, and I have found countless personal reasons to stay. The teachers on this campus have changed the trajectory of my life. They create a safe space dedicated to uncomfortable but transformational growth. They are kind and understanding. They are supportive: from simple things (like uplifting feedback on assignments) to messy things (like working through learning challenges), my teachers are there for me.
As I reflected on my progress and personal development because of this focus on the students, I wondered what teachers see on their end. I started asking, and over the last year, several teachers have shared their experiences with me. The additional lessons I learned escaped the bounds of textbooks and classrooms and solidified that BYU-Idaho is sincere and authentic in its mission. I hope you will find encouragement and hope in their messages. Without further ado, here is a word from our teachers.
"When you are picking huckleberries, you will fill your bucket up 'every time, as long as you don't stop picking ... The only way you can fail is to stop picking.'
The only way you can fail at anything in your life—school, hobbies, professional achievements—is to stop trying."
Brother Ron Kinville teaches in the Department of Design and Construction Management. After taking a job at a local truss plant, he left college unfinished to provide for his growing family. Years later, he completed his bachelor’s degree in construction management at BYU-Idaho.
He went on to get a master’s degree in occupational safety and eventually earned a PhD. in education. After sharing this he quipped, “From college dropout to Dr. Kinville, how does that work?”
When I asked him what he wanted to pass along to his students, he said he wanted to give them hope. “Life’s harder if you don’t have any hope ... optimism for the future. Believe that something good is going to happen, because it is!” Referring to his educational journey, he said, “I’m just a truss guy, a guy that likes to build stuff and go fishing. If I can do it, you can do it.”
Later in our conversation, he mentioned something called the huckleberry principle. Huckleberries are very small, and it takes a lot of picking time and berries to fill one bucket. He made a comment about this that struck me like lightning—When you are picking huckleberries, you will fill your bucket up “every time, as long as you don’t stop picking. ... The only way you can fail is to stop picking."
The only way you can fail at anything in your life—school, hobbies, professional achievements—is to stop trying. Anyone who has picked berries can tell you of pricked fingers and scratched arms. It can be hard to feel successful when your efforts bring pain—physical or mental—but sometimes that pain is the evidence of your success, not your failure. That pain might come from the challenge itself, or the result of an invitation to stretch, grow, and learn.
Brother Jason Hunt, from the Biology Department, found himself trudging through a metaphorical huckleberry patch as a graduate student. He told me that as an undergraduate student, he only studied “when there was a test.” He stayed in knowledge’s shallows, doing the minimum amount of learning to pass a class.
When he got to graduate school, things changed—he was kicked out of class on the second day for not knowing the material. He left humiliated and angry, but soon realized he was at fault. His teacher asked him to come prepared, and he had not. So, he went to the library and started studying.
That semester “was excruciating. I became someone else, though. I became someone who took ownership for their learning.” At the end of the semester, his teacher brought him into his office and said, “Good, you got a 98%. I’m going to give you a B. You have more in you.” Brother Hunt said that after this experience “grades didn’t matter to me—learning mattered.”
As a teacher, Brother Hunt lives by a philosophy of loving and challenging his students. “You’ve got to love them. You’ve got to challenge them, but you have to love them.” When his students come to class, he wants them to know that “you’re going to feel challenged, but it’s okay because we’re going to work on it together.” He helps each student find success.
"The one-on-one interactions with students are one of the best parts of the job."
On the receiving end of teachers’ attitudes like that, we have Jeff MacCabe and Shae Warnick, who studied and later returned to teach at BYU-Idaho.
Jeff MacCabe was unsure why he came to BYUI in the first place. “I wasn’t confident I could do challenging things, and that someone would eventually pay me to do something.” But his teachers expressed their belief in his ability to “do hard things, by making [him] do hard things.” They shared faith in him and helped him believe in himself.
After Brother MacCabe graduated from BYUI with a Bachelor of Interdisciplinary Studies, he worked with construction technology in Nevada before returning to teach at BYU-Idaho.
Shae Warnick, who teaches in the Fine Arts Department, also talked about the support her teachers offered while she studied at BYUI. “My teachers expressed confidence in me ... conveyed expectations ... and showed interest in my interests.” This investment served as motivation for her “to be more self-directed and independent in [her] learning.” After receiving her bachelor’s degree in printmaking and painting from BYU-Idaho, she received an MFA in painting from BYU.
I also asked Sister Warnick what she wished she’d known as a student. To me, her response demonstrated the power and purpose of the student-focused teaching model at BYUI. She said, “I wish someone had told me to meet with my professors more often. As a professor ... student meetings help me understand a student’s needs and cater my teaching. The one-on-one interactions with students are one of the best parts of the job.”
It has taken courage to embrace this teaching model and believe that, as a student, I am part of “the most rewarding aspect” of teaching at BYUI. It is obvious that our teachers care about who they teach, not just what they teach. They want to see each student succeed in the classroom, with career goals, and through life.
I am grateful for the opportunity to attend BYUI; it has changed my perspective of and approach to life. I will always be grateful for Bishop Foltz, who led me to this rich, heavy-laden huckleberry patch and prodded me to start picking. And I am grateful for the remarkable teachers at BYU-Idaho, who teach and mentor as if they were a huckleberry bush—offering me everything they have and encouraging me, and others, to never stop picking.