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In Botswana, the expression for when someone is departing on a journey, leaving a community or group, or embarking on a new adventure, is tsamaya sentle, or “Go well.” The person who is leaving typically responds with a “stay well,” or tsala sentle.

Mary Moran, professor of anthropology and Africana studies, is about to embark on a new journey, a new adventure in retirement. As her colleague in ALST, as her friend, mentee, and student long-ago, I am happy to share some fond memories as we all wish her well.

In 1989, I was a student in Mary’s ANTH 102 class and, for lack of a better word, was simply captivated. I had spent considerable time in Kenya before college and,  as I crafted an academic career, I was grateful to have found someone to talk to about what to do with all that I had learned in that country.

In Mary’s classes, we studied feminist anthropology, became grounded in social theory about prestige and exchange. She showed us slides (because powerpoint wasn’t a thing quite yet) from her work in Liberia, teaching us how to do really great ethnography that had an impact, always keeping the lives of loved ones, friends, and communities in Africa at the center of conversation.

Mary was my thesis and academic adviser when I graduated with degrees in anthropology and ALST — one of the first majors in the program. She was later a voice of reason and helpful critique as an external reader on my PhD. She is also the person I call when I’ve had any career or work/life decisions to make, and she and Jordy were also among the very first people I told when I was pregnant with my daughter. In all of these realms, Mary listens and offers sage advice and perhaps, best of all, eternal encouragement.

Mary has always been an advocate for others and the reason that so many of us have been in African studies as a discipline. She brings her knowledge to bear on many timely, social issues, and I often assign NPR’s 2014 “Goats and Soda” piece about Mary’s work, as it highlights how the Ebola epidemic taught us about the importance of studying culture and caregiving — certainly lessons that we see resonant today. She is one of the most inclusive people I know; she fights for equity in the field, in the profession, for women in the halls of academia and in the realm of policy, for her students and her colleagues near and far. Most of all, she is an inspiring role model, who has forged paths that I am happy and fortunate to follow.

Years ago, I took on the role of editor for the Association of Feminist Anthropologists column for the American Anthropological Association, writing monthly pieces for a wide readership of anthropologists in the field. Mary was the reason I took on that task, reminding me of the power of our voices to shed light on important issues with respect to gender, equity, and cross-cultural understandings. She is the reason that I now find myself at �Ա���Ƶ, continuing to bridge connections between gender, health, and Africana studies in a range of disciplines.

Mary’s work and her voice will live on in the �Ա���Ƶ curriculum. And, now, as I once again follow in Mary’s path and step into the role of faculty adviser for �Ա���Ƶ’s Model African Union (MAU) program, I know those are seriously important shoes to fill. I was so impressed by the students she taught this past spring, when we all traveled to Washington, D.C., for her final official semester — they know so much and were so excited to share all they’ve learned from Mary. Moreover, the accolades and deep admiration that her colleagues from myriad academic institutions at MAU was clear — she is much celebrated and beloved.

I am grateful for her guidance, knowledge, patience, support, and path-breaking work. From the bottom of our ALST hearts, many, many, many thanks for all that you’ve done for all of us, Mary. Tsamaya sentle!