IPRE Blog

By Ann Moorhead, Emergency Preparedness Coordinator, Tillamook County

Coming into a new community is always a challenge and a gamble. After all, how can you truly know what you’ll find once you get there? Visiting or hearing about a place isn’t enough to understand it—not really. A community is more than its landmarks or reputation; it’s made up of people, relationships, and experiences that you can only grasp by immersing yourself in them.

That’s what joining RARE felt like for me—moving out to a rural community over an hour away from the nearest Walmart or Costco, far from the habitual conveniences that are so easy to take for granted. It was a risk, an adventure, and an opportunity to engage with a place in a way few ever do.

This was not my first time doing this. I spent my first RARE year in The Dalles, a city twice as large as any of those in Tillamook County and on the edge of Oregon’s high desert. It gave me my first taste of rural Oregon and taught me that when you enter a new community, you can’t dwell on what’s missing. Focusing on what isn’t there only leads to a sense of loss. Instead, you have to dive headfirst into the uniqueness of where you are. Embrace the quirks, the unfamiliarity, the regular beauty that might be different from what you’re used to. Nonetheless, moving from the arid Columbia Gorge to Tillamook County was bound to be an adjustment.

The Oregon Coast is stunning. It’s also wet, rural, and shaped by the elements in a way that defines both the landscape and the people who call it home. The communities here are tightly knit—kind but sometimes hard to break into. Many residents come and go with the seasons, which moves the line between who is an insider and who is an outsider depending on who you ask. The person whose family has lived there for three generations often had a very different perspective to the person who bought a beach house here a couple years ago. Regardless of whose perspective it was, I was a true outsider. Having served in RARE before, albeit in a very different location, I felt better equipped this time around. I knew that to integrate, I had to show up. So I did. I went to events, I talked to strangers, I accepted nearly every invitation, and I spent much of my free time exploring the hidden corners of the coast—the places weekend tourists don’t typically see.

At work, I relished the opportunities to connect with the community. Emergency management can be a daunting field, especially in a region so vulnerable to natural disasters. But here in Tillamook County, the dedication to preparedness is both strong and inspiring. The county has only one full-time emergency management employee—plus me, for now—so our capacity to reach all corners of the community is limited. There aren’t enough city governments to share the load, but what Tillamook County does have is an extraordinary network of volunteers.

Across the county, eight emergency preparedness volunteer groups dedicate countless hours each month to storing emergency supplies, strengthening radio communication networks, educating residents, and training to support their neighbors when disaster strikes. Their passion is evident in everything they do, and without them, emergency management in Tillamook County simply wouldn’t function the way it does.

When I first arrived, I was excited—and admittedly nervous—about working with them. My first introduction came at a Tillamook County Citizens Corps Council (TC4) meeting. These gatherings bring together representatives from all the volunteer groups, along with a few first responders, to coordinate on county-wide preparedness efforts. It was a daunting meeting: so many people, each deeply invested in a community I had barely begun to understand. They were welcoming but uncertain of what to make of me—the new addition to a machine moving too fast for me to hop on right away.

Fortunately, this wasn’t my first time navigating an unfamiliar community. I got to work, attending meetings, having conversations, and offering my support wherever I could. One of my main responsibilities was helping volunteer groups with strategic planning and goal setting. Five groups took me up on the offer, giving me the perfect opportunity to get to know their members on a deeper level. Little by little, I increased my involvement, supporting their efforts however I could. Of all my projects, this work had the most immediate and tangible impact. I could see how each small contribution made things just a little easier for the people working so hard to protect their communities and I relished in it.

Five months into my time here, at a TC4 meeting, I finally saw the full effect of those efforts. When I walked in, nearly half the people in the room greeted me by name. Throughout the meeting, I was pulled aside multiple times by volunteers eager to tell me how useful they had found my support. It caught me completely by surprise. For the first time, I not only clearly understood my place in this network—I knew that others saw it too.

You can’t expect to arrive in a rural community and hit the ground running. Relationships, trust, and understanding take time. But if you approach the community with openness, listen to its needs, and commit to doing your best, the rewards are incredibly fulfilling. These relationships are hard-earned, and that’s what makes them so meaningful. The work may not always be easy, but when you see the impact—when you feel that sense of belonging—it makes every challenge along the way worthwhile.

About the author, Ann Moorhead: Ann was born and raised in Beaverton, Oregon, and recently graduated with a B.S. in Planning, Public Policy, and Management from the University of Oregon. After an enriching year in The Dalles, where she worked as a RARE for the City of The Dalles and The Dalles Area Chamber of Commerce, Ann is now broadening her horizons in Tillamook County. Ann loves immersing herself in new experiences, collecting stories, and believes that with the right mindset, every opportunity can be an adventure.

Interested in gaining an environmental and sustainability experience of your own? Are you looking for a life changing experience in rural Oregon? Learn more about serving with the RARE AmeriCorps Program. Applications for Year 32 (2025-26) are due April 27, 2025 by 11:59pm PDT!

By Grace Wesson, Air Quality & Food Systems Coordinator, OSU Extension Service

At Oregon State University Extension Service, my daily activities can be anything from building gardens, to providing air quality literacy training to school districts, to writing grants and conference proposals. This is a far cry from my educational foundation.

After growing up in suburban California, I was ready to try something new, so I spent my undergraduate degree moving cattle through chutes, shearing sheep, and working at a lab bench. I recall many peaceful afternoons hunched over a 96-well sample plate with only the click of pipette tips to keep me company.

I really loved it, but at the same time, I wanted to pivot to a career in public health. I was interested in bringing research outside of laboratory walls. How can we make knowledge more accessible? How can communities use this knowledge to feel healthy and empowered?

Well, I arrived at Oregon State University Extension Service in 2023 with excitement, enthusiasm, and, unfortunately, what I now understand to be “imposter syndrome”. I didn’t study public health or food systems, like the other AmeriCorps members who had served in the office. How could I represent OSU Extension’s Family and Community Health program? Surely everyone would see right through me.

I still remember a lot about biology and animal agriculture from my time in Texas, but one of the most important (and hard!) lessons I brought with me to Oregon was a “soft skill”. When you are in a pen with 1000+ pound animals, there is no room for ego. We work as a team to keep each other, and the animals, safe. Out of necessity, I learned to ask questions.

During my second year of service with OSU Extension, I received training in popular education. This concept has multiple origins and influences, but is most well-known as a pedagogy framework developed by Paulo Friere as a way to resist colonial oppression in Latin America. Popular education emphasizes collaborative creation and ownership of knowledge.

This helped me to understand my role: I don’t need to have all the answers. I facilitate conversations, and I learn from the community. I use university resources to implement the programs that the community wants and co-designs. And, importantly, I change my approach in accordance with the collaborative knowledge that we build.

The food system in the Columbia River Gorge is complex, to put it simply.

Like many rural areas, our biggest industries are agriculture and tourism. Wasco and Hood River County are home to around 15,000 acres of cherry, pear, and apple orchards, which employ tens of thousands of migrant and seasonal farmworkers. Hood River County is the largest producer of pears in the United States.

So much food is grown here, and yet, according to the 2015 Columbia Gorge Food Security Assessment, 1 in 3 households worry about running out of food, and 1 in 5 households actually do run out of food. Why is that? What can be done to help? And also: how can we update this data so we aren’t quoting surveys that are a decade old?

To answer these questions, my supervisor and I have been working with local partners to co-design a food security assessment. We started by (you guessed it) asking lots and lots of questions. I made a running list of every partner organization I could think of, and contacted 44 stakeholders to hear their thoughts about the project.

This resulted in more than 18 meetings with local partners, where I took notes as thoroughly as I could. It suddenly didn’t matter as much that I hadn’t studied food systems in college. The community members and stakeholders were the experts. They know their work, their community, and their local food system in a way that nobody else can. My most important job was to just listen and learn.

I have been humbled by all the people I have met and everything I have learned. There are so many parts of others’ experiences that I will never understand. All I can do is set the table, ask a question, and stay curious enough to say “Tell me more.”

About the author, Grace Wesson: Grace was raised in Southern California, and graduated from Texas A&M University with a B.S. in Animal Science and a minor in Biology. While earning her undergraduate degree, Grace focused on tutoring and laboratory research. Her research examined reproductive biology in livestock species, and her capstone project explored labor issues in the dairy industry. Grace is currently serving her second year of service with the RARE AmeriCorps Program.

Interested in gaining a food systems experience of your own? Are you looking for a life changing experience in rural Oregon? Learn more about serving with the RARE AmeriCorps Program. Applications for Year 32 (2025-26) are due April 27, 2025 by 11:59pm PDT.