Jody Murray

A smiling throng of new faces took part Tuesday in one of UC Merced’s oldest traditions, the Scholars Bridge Crossing.

Chancellor Juan Sánchez Muñoz and other campus leaders led the march over the bridge. Blue and gold balloons arced over the span, which was lined with cheering staff, faculty and current students. “Let’s go, Bobcats!” they chanted.

The procession then passed through the Beginnings sculpture, signifying the start of the students’ academic journeys at UC Merced. During commencement ceremonies, graduates go through Beginnings again, in the other direction.

Digging for stories in a Gold Rush town that vanished in flames 170 years ago. Pinging brainwaves for reactions from sentences that slide between Spanish and English. Fortifying students’ skills and confidence with a practice called powerwriting.

These ventures are among nearly a dozen UC Merced research projects made possible by the Chancellor’s Catalyst Awards, an initiative designed to spur compelling inquiry in the humanities and social sciences.

UC Merced has established its identity as a world-class research university that welcomes learners who historically have been left out of higher education. Nearly three-quarters of its undergraduates are first-generation college students.

This distinction put the university in welcome company when it co-hosted one of a handful of institutes held nationwide that trained instructors on how to teach reading and writing effectively at access-oriented institutions: community colleges and open-enrollment universities that educate underserved students.

An all-faculty rock band formed in a professor’s garage a decade ago has released the first album produced at UC Merced’s digitally advanced recording studio.

The album showcases the eight members of G Street Revolution. Their day jobs cross a spectrum of academics: engineering, sociology, mathematics, music and writing. The album, their first, is called “Dumpster Fire.”

Editor's note: This story is republished from the Spring/Summer 2026 issue of UC Merced Magazine.

Temnee Wright, ’08 has realized a successful career as legal counsel at several Silicon Valley companies. Her interest in law was forged at UC Merced, where she made the most out of being a student in the university’s first undergraduate class.

A new UC Merced major arrived just in time for Tyrese Francis.

When the student starts his third year at the university this fall, he will dive into coursework for a degree in business administration, one of two degrees debuting in the School of Social Sciences, Humanities and Arts.

“I’ve always wanted to be a leader,” said Francis, who hails from the South Bay region of Los Angeles County. “I feel this major will give me the skills I could apply to a leadership role.”

On a spring day in Merced’s Applegate Park, the man sat in front of a camera, spinning memories. He described decades of Latin music and dance pulsing in the city, moments drawn from eight decades of life and stories told by aunts and uncles.

His two interviewers took notes and checked the microphone’s levels. All good.

Then came a sound that smothered his voice — the blast of a horn and clatter of rolling steel as a train passed, only two blocks away. They waited. When it was quiet again, the man, David Soria, smiled.

Students in a UC Merced course stepped off campus and into the real world, developing flyers, website pages and even a TikTok account for a downtown arts center.

Staff at the center became clients and the students contractors in a spring semester project that produced marketing materials, forged relationships with the community and gave students an experience that in-class exercises can’t provide.

Jenni Samuelson watched intently as a handful of students rehearsed a final scene. The lines were brief, bouncing from actor to actor, several voices working as one. Samuelson leaned forward, smiling, her eyes willing them on.

When they finished, she threw up her hands, sprang from her chair and showed the students the hairs standing on her forearm.

“You’ve got it,” she told them. “Lock it in!”

Jenni Samuelson watched intently as a handful of students rehearsed a final scene. The lines were brief, bouncing from actor to actor, several voices working as one. Samuelson leaned forward, smiling, her eyes willing them on.

When they finished, she threw up her hands, sprang from her chair and showed the students the hairs standing on her forearm.

“You’ve got it,” she told them. “Lock it in!”