This June, five outstanding students will represent our communities on a trip they won’t soon forget.

From June 13-19, they will join more than 140 students from across Tennessee for the Washington Youth Tour, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to experience our nation’s capital in a way few students get to.

This isn’t just a trip. It’s a week packed with moments that bring history, leadership, and government to life.

Students will visit some of the most iconic places in the country, including the U.S. Capitol, Arlington National Cemetery, and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, where they will witness a wreath-laying ceremony. They will explore historic sites like Monticello and Mount Vernon, walk through Smithsonian museums, and experience live theater.

One of the most memorable moments will be the Sunset Parade at the Marine Corps War Memorial, a powerful display of tradition, precision, and honor.

They will also have the opportunity to meet with elected officials, gaining firsthand insight into how decisions are made and how leaders serve their communities.

Along the way, they will build friendships with students from across the state, share new experiences, and gain a deeper understanding of the role they can play in the future.

We are proud to introduce our 2026 UCEMC Washington Youth Tour delegates and share their stories below.

Meet the Delegates:

Emerson Goodpasture

HOST (me): Welcome back to my podcast “Energizing Every Moment.” Today’s episode is different. It’s personal. Because today, I’m sitting across from someone who shaped my childhood. Someone who taught me what service really looks like. Today I’m interviewing my dad. 

Segment 1: The Introduction

HOST (me): Dad, thanks for being here. I know microphones aren’t exactly your cup of tea. 

DAD: No, they’re not. But for you, I’ll make an exception. 

HOST (me): I appreciate that. Let’s start with the question people always ask you: Why did you become a lineman? 

DAD: Well, I wanted to do something that mattered. When the lights go out, people need help. And I like being the one who shows up. Plus, I’ve always liked working outside and working with my hands.  

HOST (me): That’s one thing I’ve always admired about your responsibility. It’s the heart of the cooperative principle “Concern for Community”. You don’t just restore power. You restore comfort and safety.  

DAD: That’s the job. And it’s a good one. 

Segment 2: Growing Up in Co-op

HOST (me): I grew up watching you head out in storms, sometimes in the middle of the night. I remember standing at the window, watching the truck lights disappear down the road. 

DAD: Yeah, I hated leaving you all during those times. But when the community needs us, we go to help. That’s part of being cooperative. That’s the principle of “Member Control.”The people we serve are the people who guide us. 

HOST (me): I remember going to the annual meeting with you. Bucket trucks, hot dogs, kids running around. It was so cool.  

DAD: That’s exactly what it is. A co-op is a family. 

Segment 3: Training and Safety

HOST (me): People see linemen and think “tough job,” but they don’t always understand the training behind it. 

DAD: Training never stops. That’s the cooperative principle “Education,Training, and Information”.  We’re always learning new equipment, rules, and technology.  

HOST (me): You always told me, “There are no shortcuts in this job.” 

DAD: And I meant it. Electricity is unforgiving. If you don’t do it right, you can get hurt.

Segment 4: Co-ops and Community

HOST (me): I want to highlight a few ways electric cooperatives strengthen the communities they serve things I’ve seen through your work. 

DAD: Alright, let’s hear ’em. 

HOST (me): First, co-ops invest in local economic development. I’ve watched you help run lines for new businesses, schools, and neighborhoods. That brings jobs and growth. 

DAD: Yep. We work with local leaders all the time. It helps build a strong community.

HOST (me): Second, co-ops provide safety and energy education.I remember you going into classrooms and showing kids how electricity works.  

DAD: Those school visits are fun. Kids ask good questions. And if they learn something that keeps them safe, that’s worth it. 

HOST (me): And third, co-ops support community programs and outage responses. I’ve seen you leave for the holidays and dinner.  

DAD: Storm work is tough, but it’s important. People need heat, lights, and medical equipment.

Segment 5: Cooperation

HOST (me): You’ve also traveled to help other co-ops after hurricanes and ice storms. That’s the principle “Cooperation Among Cooperatives.” 

DAD: Those trips are something else. Long days and tough conditions. But when another co-op calls, we go and help because they would help us too.  

Segment 6: A Forever Moment

HOST (me): Is there a moment from your career that really stuck with you? 

DAD: Yeah, there’s one thing I’ll never forget. After a winter storm, we restored power to an older couple who’d been without heat for days. When the lights came back on, the woman hugged me like I was her own son. Moments like that remind you why you do this job. 

HOST (me): That’s great, Dad. And it says everything about who you are not just as a lineman, but as a person. 

Closing 

HOST (me): Dad, thank you for being here. And thank you for everything you do for our family and for the community.  

DAD: Proud of you. And thanks for having me. 

HOST (me): To our listeners, this has been “Energizing Every Moment.” Today, we got a glimpse into the life of a lineman, someone who climbs poles in storms, restores power, and keeps our communities connected. Someone, who in my case, also taught me what hard work and service really look like. 

Until next time, stay safe, curious, and appreciate the people who energize every moment of your life. 

Maicy Loreto

Cool air fills my lungs as I will the nerves coursing through my body to settle. I stare down at the tips of my black ballet flats peeking out beneath my plain dress and run my hand along the velvet fabric. My other hand trembles despite my tight grip on the cool metal microphone. Backstage buzzes with performers whispering lyrics and rehearsing scales.

“Aria!” I turn at the familiar voice and immediately feel steadier. Dagan Reeves, Dae, pushes through the crowd toward me. We’ve been inseparable since sixth grade, when we met at 4-H Electric Camp. As the only girls our age there, we bonded instantly. On pickup day, we discovered our dads both worked as electrical engineers for our local electric cooperative. It felt like fate.

Since then, we’ve tagged along on countless cooperative projects, community festivals, safety demonstrations, and youth leadership trips. We could probably recite the Seven Cooperative Principles in our sleep

“How did you even get back here?” I ask.

“I slipped past your choir teacher,” she says with a grin. “We’re front row. You’re going to be amazing.” She hugs me tightly and disappears just as quickly. My nerves soften. I remind myself why I’m here. This year, I was selected as one of ten seniors to compete in our town’s annual singing and songwriting competition. The city council and our electric cooperative partner with local businesses to fund $3,000 scholarships for one male and one female winner. As the final piano notes from the previous performance fade, my name echoes through the auditorium. I step onto the stage. Just like Dae promised, our families fill the front row. My dad gives me an encouraging nod. My mom already has her phone raised, recording. But what surprises me most is how many familiar faces fill the next rows. Mrs. Chen, who owns the local flower shop, beams at me. Four summers ago, when my dad upgraded her shop’s electrical system to support new refrigeration and lighting, she let me spend afternoons helping design arrangements. Reliable energy allowed her to expand her business and hire two part-time employees. Next to her sits Mr. Brown, a board member of the cooperative. As a member-owned utility, our cooperative practices democratic member control; each member gets one vote, and leaders like Mr. Brown are elected from within the community. Though he’s not just some distant executive, he’s my neighbor.

Scattered throughout the audience are my dad’s coworkers, including Ms. Tina, who chaperoned me on the Washington Youth Tour last summer. Through the cooperative’s commitment to educating and informing, I traveled with other students to learn about leadership and government. I also attended the Youth Leadership Summit, where I met friends like Faith and Caden. As I take all of this in—the business owners, the students, the linemen, the board members—I feel something unexpected replace my nerves: gratitude. The cooperative’s seventh principle, concern for community, isn’t just a slogan printed on brochures. It’s visible in this room.

I glance at MJ at the piano and nod. The opening notes of the song I wrote drift into the auditorium. I chose a simple piano arrangement so her talent could shine, too. As I sing, the music steadies me. Each note feels as necessary as oxygen. Halfway through, I close my eyes and let the lyrics carry me. I wrote this song about home, not just as a place, but as a feeling. As I sing the final line, I realize that the very system supporting this emulates that feeling perfectly. The scholarship itself exists because cooperative members contribute economically and reinvest in the community. Instead of profits going to distant shareholders, they return here to students like me. The last note plays, and I open my eyes to a standing ovation.

After the remaining performances, the finalists return to the stage. My heart pounds as Mr. Brown steps to the microphone with a white envelope. He announces the male winner first. Applause erupts as Dale Manning accepts his check. Then Mr. Brown clears his throat. “And the female winner is… Aria Jennings!” For a moment, everything blurs. The applause overtakes mt senses as he hands me the scholarship check. Cameras flash. He pulls me into a warm hug and whispers caringly, “We’re proud of you.”

Standing there beneath the stage lights, I realize this moment isn’t just about me.

It’s about a community, neighbors who vote for leaders they trust, linemen restoring power after storms, mentors guiding students toward leadership, businesses expanding because the lights stay on, and the internet stays connected. This scholarship represents more than financial support for college. It represents a promise that when one of our own succeeds, we all do. As I step off the stage and into the arms of my family and friends, I understand something I hadn’t fully grasped before. The cooperative doesn’t just power our homes. It powers our opportunities, our leadership, and our futures. And tonight, under bright auditorium lights powered by the very system that raised me, I feel ready to give that power back.

Sarah Brown

My grandfather always told me stories filled with light, and today was no different. Born in 1939, my grandfather was an elderly raccoon who had lived an adventurous life, yet he was still full of energy. Today, I was sitting on his old, familiar rug. My grandfather, or as we call him, Pop, was lying back in his reclining chair.

“Sparky, I want to tell you a story. Scootch up here to me now and listen closely.” He said suddenly.

I did as I was told and smiled. This was how all of his best stories started. 

“Sparky, I was born the year electricity came to this old town, and I’ll never forget those first years when every house was suddenly filled with light. The darkness was gone, and as I traveled from trash bin to trash bin, I heard every human talking about it. I’ll tell you where this came from, too: my father told me that electricity came from these things called electric co-ops. Do you know what that is?”

I shook my head. 

“Well, they are these utilities that give everyone power. They even installed this principle called- oh what was it called again….?” He said as he scratched his head.

Suddenly, he burst out, “Voluntary and Open Membership! That’s what it was, which means everyone has the opportunity to have electricity. If raccoons had that system, we could reheat all the trash food we want! Anyway, that reminds me of something else about them. It’s that the organization is controlled by its members, another principle titled ‘Autonomy and Independence’. Big words, huh, Sparky? “ He said as he leaned in close to me, as if waiting for my response, but before I could get the words out, he continued.

“Moving on from my youth, I got into a, well lets just say, bad situation. This was before I met your grandmother, of course. I was living near a cabin beside a town. Every night, I would climb into this house’s trash can, as any sensible raccoon would do, and have my meal. But things turned sour one night when I grabbed hold of an electric fence and recognized just how reliable the co-op’s energy was. The second my paw touched it, I knew it was a big mistake. I quickly realized my frequent appearance was not appreciated, but it was too late because the next thing I knew, I was in an animal control cage.”  He paused for dramatic effect.

My eyes were wide with anticipation.

He continued when he saw how interested I was in hearing the next part, “ The animal control gave me something because I had never slept so well in my life before that car ride. The next memory I have is waking up in a unfamilar room within my cage, and as I slowly open my eyes, I realized I wasn’t alone; other animals were trapped here with me.”

“I sat up in my cage, immediately commenting on the blinding lights. The cat next to me clearly heard me because it started yammering about how her owner used to work for the electric company. I remember listening to the cat say that the job had trained its owner well because of one of the co-op’s principles. Then I said something about how I wished the humans could change it, and the cat looked at me enthusiastically and told me all about how Tennessee’s electric co-ops allow their members to actively participate in making policies, which makes them sustainable.  By this time, Sparky, I was a little tuckered out from listening to this cat, so I closed my eyes.”

 Pop readjusted his recliner and continued, “ When I woke up again, I was being driven away. The car ride was bumpy, but it eventually stopped in a secluded forest where the human let me go.  I was scared, but it was just another adventure, so I embraced this new land. Now, this place was nowhere close to my home, so I just walked until I found a city. That’s when I met Cheesy, a rat on the city’s outskirts. We walked along a trail in the woods until we came to a road with a lot of different men working, so I asked Cheesy about all the different workers. He told me that electric companies help each other out, a principle titled ‘Cooperation Among Cooperatives’. He also explained how electric co-ops work hard for their community, and recruit new businesses and jobs. I thanked Cheesy for helping me out and continued on my way.” 

I stopped my Pop there, bursting to ask a question.

“ I bet the electric co-op makes a lot of money, because every human has electricity,” I said.

            He looked at me and smiled,” Well, yes, we pay them, but they put it all back into the electric system. I think that’s one of their smart moves, those humans, when they put into place the Member Economic Participation, but you’ll learn this in school as these co-ops put many of their efforts into education for the community.”

            I was absorbed with his story, and he proceeded to explain the rest about how he wandered back here and settled down, but fell asleep somewhere through there. I wrapped his blanket around him, thinking about the one thing Pop taught me with all his stories: always energize every moment.

Laura Huff

The world slowly faded away as Anne sunk into the leather chair. The air filled with an invitation of freshly brewed coffee and a hum of vibrant conversations. It was as if time itself had stopped.

Her favorite cafe was a sweet little mom and pop shop on the corner of Diode and Watt, called Energizing Every Moment. Anne loved the electric but cozy feeling of it and went every day after work. It was a quiet afternoon with just Anne, Jackie (the barista), and a man, whose face was vaguely familiar, when suddenly the lights flickered and the room went dark. Jackie became frantic searching for a solution to their outage but to no avail.

Anne made her way over to Jackie in order to calm her emotions and help in any way she could.

Meanwhile the man had made a phone call shortly after the outage while Jackie was having her meltdown. After the call he walked to Jackie and Anne introducing himself as James Prescott Joule and said, “I work for UCEMC, and help will be here shortly.” Anne immediately recognized him, as he had helped her little brother in a short story contest giving him the opportunity of a lifetime to take a trip to Washington, D.C. “What a small world we live in,” Anne thought.

Having heard this, Jackie gave a sigh of relief and then all of a sudden started asking James questions faster than lightning. “How could this happen? Was it my fault? What have I done? Oh no, they’re gonna fire me, I can’t lose this job!” James looked at Anne to reel Jackie back in and she did so. Then James started to answer her questions one at a time. He said, “First of all, it was not your fault and you will not get fired. Secondly, there are a number of possibilities for what could have caused this. The main one being a fallen tree. This actually happens more often than you would think. Just yesterday we …” Noticing Jackie’s disinterest as she was still recovering from her breakdown James shifted to a more easygoing conversation. “Another cause for power outages could be ice on the power lines, but I do not think that is the problem as it is currently sunny and 75.” This gave the girls a good laugh and before they knew it, help had arrived.

As it turned out, a tree had fallen on the powerline, like James had suggested, and the crew worked quickly to get the job done. Anne was amazed at their speed and teamwork. It was as if they had been working together all their lives, like a family. This reminded her of something James had said to her little brother. It was something along the lines of, “UCEMC is really just one big family. One of our seven cooperative principles is Democratic Member Control.” Anne was intrigued by this statement and decided to ask James about it.

James said, “At UCEMC we are a democratic organization run by our members. They are really the ones in control. Members can elect leaders and are major contributors to our decision making.” “What an interesting business model.” Anne said to herself. James continued, “We were founded 87 years ago and now cover more than 100,000 miles, serving two and a half million Tennesseans.” Jackie, now joining the conversation, asked, “How do you cover all that ground after a big storm hits?” James seemed overjoyed to hear Jackie ask this and said, “That is another one of our principles: Cooperation Among Cooperatives. This basically means that when one area is hit hard, co-ops from all over send help to restore power as quickly as possible.” Anne had remembered a few years back when a snow storm had hit and all the power in their area was out. She had not paid attention at the time but now realized how quickly the problem was fixed. It was all due to these workers and only a handful of people knew their daily sacrifice.

The chaos was over and things settled back to normal. Jackie went back to making coffees, Anne returned to her usual spot, and James left the cafe, going on to serve more people.

Anne reflected on that day often. It was not until much later that she recognized the power that electricity had in every small moment of her life. From the countless cups of coffee she drank to the simple flipping of a light switch in the morning, she had paid so little attention to such a major part of her life. Electricity was what energized her every moment.

Will Petty

On a windy June evening, a boy named Ethan sat in his living room. He was watching his favorite show when suddenly an alert popped up on the television.

“Dangerous weather inclement!” it read. He jumped up, eyes wide, and ran into the kitchen. “Mom! What does this mean? Is it dangerous?” he asked. His mom looked up from her phone and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s just a thunderstorm, Ethan,” she said with a calm smile. “Nothing to worry about. We’ll be fine.”

Ethan tried to believe her, but the heavy wind rattling the windows made it hard to shake the feeling of unease building in his chest. Later, Ethan and his family settled in the living room to watch a movie. Outside, the wind grew louder, howling around the house like an unseen creature. Ethan’s little sister began to cry softly, clutching her stuffed bunny. “Don’t worry, sweetie, it’s nothing,” his dad said gently, lifting her onto his lap and rocking her back and forth. Ethan tried to focus on the screen, but the storm’s sound seemed to grow louder with every passing minute.

Suddenly, there was a loud, sharp snap. The family froze. They rushed to the window and saw a tree limb had fallen onto the power line outside. Their lights flickered violently and then went out completely. The room was plunged into darkness. Ethan’s heart raced.

“Dad, what are we going to do? I have assignments due, and my computer needs power!”

His dad grabbed his phone and started calling the electric company. “We’ll see if someone can come out right away,” he reassured Ethan. But after a few minutes on hold, he returned with a disappointed frown.

“I’ve got bad news,” he said. “They said the earliest they can send someone is in a few days. The storm has hit the whole county hard, and they’re stretched thin.”

Ethan felt panic rise in his chest. A few days without power meant his assignments might be late.

“But what about my work?” he asked, his voice cracking. “I can’t miss another assignment. I have to get it done.”

He slumped into his bed and stared into the darkness of his room. The house felt unusually quiet now, the storm’s roar outside matching the anxious thumping in his heart. Hours passed. Ethan tried reading by candlelight, but he kept glancing at the window, hoping for a miracle.

Then he saw headlights cutting through the darkness.

Curious, he ran to the living room window. “Mom! Look! Someone’s outside!” he exclaimed.

His mom and dad came over and peered out. “It looks like an electric company truck,” she said. “But I don’t think they’re from our usual company. Maybe they came from a neighboring county to help.”

Excited, Ethan watched as the crew of workers jumped out of the truck with tools in hand and began inspecting the downed lines. Despite the rain soaking their jackets, they moved quickly and efficiently. One of the workers waved to Ethan through the window.

“Don’t worry, kid! We’ll have you back on in no time!”

Ethan felt a surge of hope. These were strangers, yet they were risking the storm to help people like him and his family. He watched through the night as the crew worked tirelessly. They climbed poles, untangled wires, and carefully repaired the broken lines.

Ethan was amazed at how well they worked together, communicating with shouts and gestures, passing tools to one another without missing a beat. It was clear that teamwork and care for the community guided their every move. Their goal isn’t just to make money; it’s to ensure families like ours are safe and powered.

He learned more than just electricity that night; he learned about people who care deeply about others.

By the next morning, the power was finally restored. Ethan cheered as the lights came back on, the familiar hum of the refrigerator and the glow of lamps filling the house. He quickly finished his assignments and submitted them early.

As he sat at the table, reflecting on everything that had happened, he realized just how lucky he was. People from another county had come together to help a family they didn’t even know, guided by a principle that valued community over convenience.

Later, Ethan told his parents, “I’m really thankful that electric companies can work together to provide for us. It’s more than just fixing wires. It’s about helping people.”

His mom smiled and ruffled his hair. “Exactly,” she stated. “It shows that even in difficult times, people will look out for each other.”

That night, as he went to bed with a grateful heart, Ethan knew he had seen something amazing. He was so thankful for the cooperative effort of the electric companies.