Remembering Colin

Colin Jeffreys Cureton, 41, passed away surrounded by the love of his family and those closest to him on June 18, 2026. He was a father, son, brother, partner, founder, author, servant-leader, and dear friend, beloved by many. Anyone who was lucky enough to know Colin was transformed by him.Born in Milwaukee, WI on May 7, 1985, to Mary Catherine and Richard Cureton, Colin spent his childhood in Ann Arbor, MI, attended Carleton College in Northfield, MN and settled in Minneapolis-Saint Paul, MN, where he earned two advanced degrees in Food & Energy Policy and Applied Economics, served as the Director of Adoption and Scaling for the University of Minnesota Forever Green Initiative, and co-founded multiple companies focused on regenerative agriculture.Anyone who knew Colin knows his impact cannot be captured by degrees or titles. Even those who didn’t meet him will thrive because of his work. Following in the footsteps of his mentor Donald Wyse, Colin nurtured ecosystems and ecologies of relationships, of time, of understanding. He cultivated partnerships among universities, farmers, governments, foundations, major food companies, conservation groups, and rural and urban community leaders. He did the deeply human work of forging connections, where the institution meets the wider world, where an ideology meets the person it impacts.The meridian of Colin’s life never shied away from the big intersections. He rode straight through, wheels trued to his own internal compass.Colin couldn’t be contained to one place, culture, or passion. He was equally at home practicing Japanese in Kochi’s tea houses, wandering macadamia tree farms in Costa Rica, stoking the fire at his family’s multigenerational cabin on the shores of Lake Michigan, filming a pitch video in a hazelnut field, playing berimbau in a capoeira roda, speaking at a regenerative agriculture summit in Brussels, spinning sounds on his turntables and shapes on his pottery wheel, and, of course, growing and cooking food for the people he loved.In every context, Colin cared for others. He kept an eye out for those on the margins, beckoning them to join the circle, sit next to the fire, share a meal, or partake in the conversation. He was known for being an angel of the get-through to many. “Call any time,” he’d say. And he meant it, picking up at 2 am from another time zone, in the middle of a meeting, or while running on the treadmill. Colin was worthy of absolute trust.He was brilliant, but never an elitist. He’d want to dissect Hannah Arendt, the Durants, and Whitman. But, he also loved the beauty and simplicity of folk songs, dueting with Leo on his shoulders. He’d pick flowers on the way to visiting his friends. He’d sit down at his desk to write about water quality and agriculture, hear the roar of migrating geese, and run outside to watch them cruise their sky-path from Cannon River to Lake Byllesby.Colin was also relentlessly fun. He climbed trees. He climbed water towers. He climbed apartment walls. When you were with Colin, your day could become an adventure at any moment.Colin’s knack for joy wasn’t peripheral to his depth – it was core. He loved the movie Big Fish, because it questioned the lines separating realism from magic. In his short life, he endured challenges others would have found insurmountable, and he never let them turn him bitter or away from others. He still believed that magic and meaning are real and important, and that we are their makers. He would start over and over again in the darkness, catching the light from a disco ball, a bike reflector, the moonlight, to guide him out. Colin kept his faith in the goodwill and vigilance of others who shared his belief that the world is worth saving.When everyone would ask themselves if they were ready for the worst, Colin knew the smarter thing, the braver thing, was to ask yourself, “Are you ready for things to go right?”Above all, Colin loved his son, Leo. In him live Colin’s fierce tenacity, his big thoughts, and his wild style. We already see Colin’s kindness and consideration in how Leo treats others.When chaos shook the Twin Cities, Colin shared a conversation he had with Leo:Colin: "Are there bad things happening right now that you are aware of?"
Leo: "Yes, Daddy."
Colin: "And when bad things happen, do they sometimes make us feel afraid?"
Leo: "Afraid sometimes..."
Colin: "Sometimes fear makes you want to shrink and feel small, but that is exactly the time to straighten up, to not let the fear win. What does it mean to be brave?"
Leo: "Being brave is doing the right thing even when you are afraid."
Colin: "Exactly."The two loved singing Xavier Rudd’s song “Follow the Sun” together. The lyrics captured their Daddy and Leo Adventures, and Colin’s capacity for imagining better futures of care: “Follow, follow the sun / And which way the wind blows / When this day is done / Breathe, breathe in the air / Set your intentions / Dream with care.”To honor Colin is to dream with care. Honoring him also means moving beyond dreaming to acting. It means risking what we want for what is right, and risking who we are for who we may become. Colin brought his perennial visions to life, and it is our turn, now, to keep them alive, by dreaming, and acting, with care.Colin is survived by his son, Leo; parents Richard and Catherine Cureton; siblings Quinn Cureton and Haley Cureton Tompsett (Andy); nephew Kai and niece Nell. He is also survived by many loving aunts, uncles, cousins, and extended family members.

• Mourning Colin Cureton | UMN Forever Green Initiative

• In Memoriam: Remembering Colin Cureton | Agroforestry Partners