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kennethson · 5 years ago

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Regarding a Faculty Member's Reaction to University Senate Proposal 41-21

President Koubek, Provost Huntoon, Dean Callahan, Trustees, and Fellow Alumni,

I write to you all today regarding a letter that was brought to my attention by a fellow alumnus from Dr. Jeffrey B. Burl, Associate Professor of Electrical and Computer Engineering, to the University Senate regarding the Senate's recent adoptions of proposal 41-21 Embodying University Values: Condemning Hate Speech, White Supremacy, and Ethnically and Racially Motivated Intolerance. While the Senate's adoption of this proposal is laudable and welcome, Dr. Burl's letter serves as a stark demonstration of how badly needed efforts like the Senate's are needed at Michigan Tech. As troubling as Dr. Burl's letter is though, it's sadly far from surprising.

Like Dr. Burl, I come from the class of white men who have long held the majority of students, faculty, and staff at Michigan Tech, and like Dr. Burl I have -- I'm ashamed to say -- argued that rather than granting me inordinate privilege, being a white man meant that I was instead the victim of unfair discrimination. While one might expect that my time at the University was when I grew beyond such thinking, at that time it flourished, as my peers could no doubt attest to. It was in the time after I graduated from Michigan Tech, in spite of the unchallenged and undeserved feelings of persecution that were fostered there, that I found the understanding that Dr. Burl does not seem to have come to yet: equality is a goal; equity is the means to achieve it.

If our society, our systems, and our institutions had achieved equality, we would see that the outcomes -- both positive and negative -- would be distributed in equal proportions among whatever categories are chosen. It's easiest to consider sex, where there is a near even split, which implies then that any sample of a group that's achieved equality should be split nearly 50-50 between men and women. It's abundantly clear, however, that this isn't the case in reality for many consequential groups such as: members of Congress, K-12 teachers, or the student body of Michigan Tech. The two types of explanations for these disparities are:

That there's something inherently different in people of different categories that makes them more or less likely to achieve a given outcome.

That there is inequality in opportunities afforded people in different categories that creates the unequal outcomes observed.

In very nearly all cases, the first explanation is provably false, which means that to hold it up is bigotry, plain and simple. The second explanation then, must be the case. This is where equity comes in.

As I'm teaching my young children: equality is when things are the same, equity is when things are fair. Equitable solutions help to provide a counterbalance to the historically unequal opportunities in a system. Dr. Burl's letter even provides us a great example of an equitable solution to the problem of gender disparity in Electrical and Computer Engineering faculty (based on the ECE department faculty listing there are currently 5 female faculty out of a total of 28). Given two open positions, having one restricted to female candidates as Dr. Burl describes ensures that the imbalance will improve (if one position goes to a female candidate and the other to a male), potentially significantly (if both positions go to female candidates).

All of this, of course should be obvious and non-controversial with you, given the University's words in the form of its stated values around diversity, equity, & inclusion, and affirmations thereof, like the Senate's that Dr. Burl objects to. But actions speak louder than words, and Dr. Burl's words demand action.

Dr. Burl has made public his disagreement with, and unwillingness to support the values that Michigan Tech claims to support. As a citizen, he's certainly entitled to his opinions, and by the First Amendment the expression thereof. As an employee and of the institution (official or otherwise), his words and actions meaningfully impact the institution's ability to successfully fulfill its mission & its duty to its students, faculty, staff, alumni, and the taxpayers of the State of Michigan who support it.

To start with, the University must immediately, publicly, and strenuously denounce the ideas expressed by Dr. Burl, as they are antithetical to the University's expressed values. As I said before though, actions speak louder than words. For the University to take no action at this point would be to give the lie to every statement the University has made or will make regarding Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion. The (lack of) action will have shouted to students, faculty, and staff -- past, present, & potential -- as well as the community at large that whatever Michigan Tech claims, it is an institution that will continue to perpetuate the systemic bigotry that has kept it disproportionately dominated by white men throughout its history.

I don't necessarily think though, that the only correct action in this case would be to terminate Dr. Burl's employment. After all, Michigan Tech -- like all educational institutions -- is meant to help people learn and grow. What I would suggest is that Dr. Burl be given the opportunity publicly withdraw his statement, and then dedicate himself to actively, enthusiastically, and -- most importantly -- publicly learning more about the inequities that exist in institutions and society at large, and working toward equitable solutions for them at Michigan Tech and beyond. In such a way he could demonstrate the University's stated values of inspiring Accountability, Scholarship, Possibilities, and Community. If at any point however, Dr. Burl is unwilling to follow such a path that can clearly and publicly show his contrite growth, then I feel the University has no other recourse than to live up to the values it claims of inspiring Tenacity and Leadership and terminate Dr. Burl's employment. Anything less than that will be to sweep this ugly -- but again, unsurprising -- episode under the rug, and give the ideas Dr. Burl expressed tacit endorsement.

I know my wife (Katherine, '11) and I are not alone among our alumni peers in the feeling that we could not support an institution so unwilling to live up to the values it professes to hold dear. Our love of the Copper Country and our pride at being Michigan Tech alumni run deep, but that pride must be continually earned. I said before that I'm ashamed of some of the ideas I held when I was a student at Michigan Tech; I don't want to be ashamed of the ideas my alma mater supports today.

Sincerely,

Kenny Barnt

BS, Computer Network and System Administration, 2010

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kennethson · 5 years ago

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On My Mind Today

I’ve been thinking back to a couple incidents in my past that, if they didn’t happen one right after the other, happened within a week of one another, and are tellingly relevant in light of everything happening. This all happened when I was working as a part-time paratransit bus driver for the City of Midland’s Dial-a-Ride while I was living at home and taking classes at Delta College.

Incident, the First

We had some annual safety training that had me on my way to work on a Saturday afternoon that I normally wouldn’t have been working on. I was headed out toward work on Saginaw Road (a major, 5-lane road), and noticed that there was a police officer behind me at some point. I knew I wasn’t speeding or anything, so I didn’t think anything of it. I was going to stop at an ATM to get some cash on my way in, so I moved over to the left lane to be prepared to make the left into the ATM in a little while, and the police officer followed suit. Weird, I thought, but again, I knew I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Then he flipped his lights and siren on, and I pull over, assuming that he’s off to some call someplace else (because, again, I know I’m not doing anything wrong).

He’s not though.

He’s pulling me over.

We go through the license and registration song and dance, and he notices that the car is registered to my dad, who was the fleet supervisor for the City and therefore literally knew every cop in town. Once we establish that relationship, he tells me that he ran my (vanity) plate, and it came back registered to a 2001 Dodge Stratus from Livonia, while I was driving a 1986 Dodge Diplomat (ironically a former police car).

Meanwhile, anxious person that I am, I’m freaking out thinking that I’m about to go to jail for driving with a stolen plate. I know I’m completely in the right, and that this must just be some kind of clerical error, but also that it’s probably enough to arrest me for. When he comes back to return my documents, the officer assures me that it’s probably just an issue with the Secretary of State’s records, and sends me on my way. A few weeks later my dad was pulled over while driving the car because they ran the plate, but this time it came back completely unregistered. After even less hassle than I had (and certainly even less anxiety), he too was sent on his way.

Incident, the Second

There’s a lot less to the story of this one, but so much more that comes from it.

One of the many trainings we were going through that week was led by an officer from the Midland PD. I imagine it was likely about traffic safety or something, but I honestly don’t recall at this point. The thing that sticks with me now is that he told us he became a police officer so that he could “drive fast and shoot things” and that “any cop who tells you different is lying”.

Reflecting on Privilege

The only reason the first incident played out for me the way it did, is because I’m white.

I don’t necessarily mean that the end result would have been different for someone who isn’t white, but that the way I felt in the moment, and the tone of the interactions wouldn’t have been the same.

I’m sure that a young black man in my same position would have been immediately on alert as soon as the officer pulled behind him. He’d have been even more worried when the officer followed his lane change, and he’d have known that he was being pulled over as soon as those light came on. This is all assuming he made it that far without being stopped already. I know that because I’ve heard countless stories of black people living it, of black parents teaching their kids from as early as they can begin to understand it how to protect themselves when interacting with police. Because they know the chances are all too good that they’ll be harassed for no reason, and that harassment can easily escalate to their lives being in danger.

Once he was stopped, he almost certainly wouldn’t have had the advantage of being the son of a well-regarded, mid-level civil servant to help ease the tension, not in Midland. There just aren’t many black people here, and for the most part those I knew were from families with white collar Dow or Dow-adjacent parents, families who had already done better for themselves than being municipal workers. My dad had that job in no small part because of generations of privilege that went into the opportunities he had throughout his life, opportunities that would have been much less likely if he wasn’t white.

Even if the outcome was the same, the fear wouldn’t have been.

I was afraid. I thought I was about to go to jail. But never once did I fear that that would mean my life or my physical safety would be at risk. I certainly was never afraid that I’d never leave that traffic stop alive, yet I know that in that situation a young black man would be totally rational to feel that way.

Even now, I don’t drive to work thinking that I’m going to get pulled over when I’m not doing anything wrong because I’ve already recounted the 2 times I’ve ever heard of that happening to a white person. But I know that black people have the justifiable fear that they could be stopped for any reason or no reason whenever they leave their house.

And that’s the privilege I have for my whiteness. The privilege to go about my business free from fear. The privilege to have opportunities that others won’t because generations of systemic racism have made it so. I was raised denying that privilege, but it’s so blindingly obvious, and I don’t know how to open the eyes of people who can’t see it.

But I’m going to try and learn how to. And I’m going to do what I can with that privilege to help make sure my children don’t have the privilege that I do, and their children less still. I want my children to succeed, but not at the expense of other children missing the opportunities they need to succeed. I know that centuries-old systems aren’t easily or instantly undone, but if we do what we can, we can make sure we’re always moving things in the right direction; and if we all do what we can, we can get to the end a lot faster.

Reflecting on Policing

As much as the first incident in all its detail helps to clarify the privilege I have, the second incident lays bare the roots of the problem being protested across the world now. In the ideal, the police are supposed to protect and serve their communities, so you would think that the people who sought that job — that dangerous, life-threatening job — would have those selfless ideals in mind when they joined. Instead, we have it on good authority that they actually join to “drive fast and shoot things”.

Even if you grant that some police officers do have selfless service as their goal, the system and culture of policing is clearly such that an officer felt comfortable saying that to a few dozen municipal workers, speaking for all police officers. That clearly shows that, whatever one officer might think, the police as a whole to not have service as their calling, but rather impunity.

But the thing that’s really sticking with me today, the thing that tells me that the police, as a system, are rotten to their core is “shoot things”.

Things

The police don’t carry guns to protect themselves and the public from inanimate objects, they carry guns (ostensibly) to protect themselves and the public from other people. People who wish to do harm, to be sure, people who are posing a threat, but still people. This level of dehumanization is what leads to the brutality we’re seeing played out across the country, and the casualness with which that officer laid it out, is all the more troubling.

And that was 15-20 years ago. Before we had militarized the police with the surpluses of wars we should never have fought, before the President of the United States openly called for abuse of citizens in police custody, and regularly dehumanized those he finds undesirable.

The system of policing in this country must be torn up, root and stem, and remade as something that really does reflect the ideals it claims to hold: to serve and protect. I don’t know how that happens, but the evidence that it must only gets stronger by the day, even by the hour.

Reflecting on Myself

I’m ashamed to say that I thought that officer’s comment about why he became one was pretty funny at the time, and nothing — not my youth, not my ignorance, and certainly not my privileged upbringing and place in society — excuses that. I’ve grown a lot, and am a much better person than I was then, but I’m still not as good as I should be or could be.

I can admit — again, ashamedly — that I’m still more uncomfortable and suspicious if I’m in a place with a lot of black people where I’m in the minority.

I don’t want to be, I know logically I have no reason to be, and I try and fight those feelings as much as possible.

I know I’m just anxious around strangers generally, and the less I can readily find in common with people, the more anxious I’ll be, and that’s a big part of it.

I’ve also been brought up in a system that’s undeniably racist, and from which I’ve derived immense privilege, and that’s another big part of it.

But none of that excuses it, because there is no excuse for it, it’s just wrong.

But I’m trying to be better. Better for myself, better for my family, better for the world.

I know I’m getting better because I recognize that I have a problem, and when I look around that seems to be more than a lot of people can muster.

I know I’m getting better because “what can I do?” has gone from a resigned rhetorical, to something I’m actively looking for answers to.

I know I’m getting better, but I still have a long way to go.

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kennethson · 9 years ago

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AirPods Day 1: Midday Report

Picked up a pair of AirPods yesterday afternoon at the campus store, so today is my first full day with them. The setup process is just as magical and flawless as it’s advertised as, everything I played with yesterday was awesome, but I wondered how things would go for more of a full-day typical use.

Started using the AirPods about 0515 listening to Podcasts in Overcast on my ~45 min commute, then Apple Music once I got to work. Had maybe ~15 mins of time where I took one out to talk to people who stopped by my cube. The left AirPod died about 1045, while right showed 9% battery left. Put both in to charge while talking to coworkers for ~20 mins, and both were fully charged when I got back.

Phone is down to 50%, having been plugged in for my commute, but unplugged afterward, but that’s probably down to streaming music more than anything directly related to the AirPods.

So far they’re living up to the battery claims too, and the 5 hour battery life hasn’t been an issue.

I changed double-tap to play/pause because I don’t use Siri enough to want that to be the action. Now playing on the watch has been great, especially with capacitive-compatible gloves.

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kennethson · 9 years ago

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The Long Story

Tuesday, November 1 - After a few miserable nights itching with no rash, Kate researches her symptoms and come across Intrahepatic Cholestasis of Pregnancy (ICP) as matching her symptoms.

Both the itching and potential risks of ICP to the baby made her call the midwife, who ordered labs that we’d discuss at her appointment on Friday. One of those labs (bile acid) is the main diagnostic tool for ICP, but it takes a long time to run and it is only done at a few labs in the country, so the Friday timing looks good.

Wednesday, November 2 - Baby reaches 37 week mark. Everything we read about ICP says that you induce in the 36-38 week time-frame to reduce the risks to baby.

Friday, November 4 - We go in for Kate’s midwife checkup. The local labs are in and show elevated liver enzymes, but that’s not necessarily telling for ICP. The bile acid result isn’t in from Mayo yet. Given that Kate is presenting with all the classic symptoms though, everyone assumes they’ll come back elevated, so we plan on an induction Sunday morning.

While induction is certainly not the route we wanted to go down under normal circumstances, Kate and I are both on-board with it in this case, and start preparing mentally and physically to have a baby in a couple of days.

Saturday, November 5 - Kate gets a call from the midwife. Her bile acid test have come back and they are normal (they’re at a 5, over 10 is the elevated level that indicates ICP). Given that, we’re not going ahead with the induction on Sunday. Instead, we’re going in to labour and delivery on Monday morning to get some labs drawn and processed stat.

At this point, we’re assuming that when we go in for that, we wont be leaving without a baby.

Monday, November 7 Morning & Afternoon - We go in about 9:30 and it seems like we’re not expected when we get there. Turns out we were, but for an NST. Kate gets hooked up, and everything looks good. Someone comes to draw the labs, and we ask about how long they’ll take. She says the two liver function tests would probably be about an hour, but the other one had to be sent out. Also she’d never heard of it before. That was the bile acid. Kate stays hooked up to the monitors while we wait. When the results come back, the liver enzyme levels are still elevated, but trending down from last week, so they’re discharging us.

At this point it’s noon, so we stop and get some lunch because hunger is overpowering our concerns about where we go from here, especially as we approach the 38 week mark. Afterward, Kate calls the midwives to see what our next steps are. When they call back they say they want to wait and see what the bile acid results are, so they schedule an NST for Thursday, and a check-up for Friday.

We get off the phone, and start talking, and I make the point that I’m not really comfortable with what they’re suggesting. For the past couple of days I’ve been thinking that - based on all the research Kate and I had done, and my non-professional evaluation of everything - because we’re so close to the 38 week mark, it seems like the risks of inducing, even if ICP isn’t a factor, are lower than the risks of waiting past the 38 week mark if ICP is a factor. This is especially true because Kate’s showing all the classic symptoms of ICP, even if the (week old at this point) bile acid numbers aren’t elevated, so it seems likely that ICP is a factor.

So we call back, and we go over this with the midwife, and she says our concerns are reasonable and that she’ll talk it over with an OB and get back to us. When she does call back, she lets us know that the OB is not opposed to inducing on the suspicion of ICP, rather than an official diagnosis. They don’t really recommend one course of action or another, but leave it up to us. Our options are: induce today/this evening (when the midwife we’re talking with and the OB she consulted are on), induce in the morning, or wait for the bile acid. We talk it over and decide we’ll go ahead with the induction today. We call the midwife back to let her know, and she tells us to come into labour & delivery at 5:30.

Monday, November 7, Evening & Night - We arrive and are fully expected this time around. We get checked in and start getting settled. We’re going over what the plan is and everything, then the midwife checks Kate’s cervix to get an idea of our starting point. She seems a little perplexed, and asks for the bedside ultrasound. She does some searching, and neither Kate nor I sees anything we recognize. She calls in the OB to look as well. Turns out baby is breach. When the midwife checked Kate, she felt a foot.

At this point, we’re given a few of options. The first is to try a version, basically try and turn baby around from the outside. The second is a C-Section. Finally we could go home, and hope baby flips around and wait for the bile acid results. As for going home, the midwife pointed out that we had already decided to have a baby today, so that was probably the plan to stick to, one way or the other, and we agreed. They give us about a 50-50 shot at the version working and fairly low risk with trying it, so we opt for that, especially since C-Section is still on the table if the version doesn’t work.

The OB was able to get the baby flipped around, which was wild to watch, even from behind everyone. I could clearly see the tension and exertion as she got baby flipped. I cannot imagine what it must have felt like.

Once baby was flipped, they started pitocin and the waiting game began. After a couple of hours with only a couple fairly weak contractions, the nurses are in doing a vital check when Kate gives an “uh-oh”. She just felt baby move, and thinks it flipped. The nurses feel her belly while waiting for the OB to come, and are pretty sure the baby is not transverse, having gone an extra 90 degrees beyond the version. The OB comes in and confirms that with the ultrasound.

Our choices now are re-try the version (which would be a 270 degree rotation this time, not just the 90 back) with more risk and no guarantee that the baby would stay head-down if it worked, or go into a C-Section. We opted for the latter.

In a remarkably short period of time we’re all prepped and ready to go. As quick as it went I’m amazed that they can go faster for an emergency C-Section. Once we’re in the OR and they start working, everything goes incredibly fast. Because baby was transverse and not tiny, it took some effort to get it out, which caused Kate some discomfort, but in another crazy short period of time, we had a beautiful, 8 pound, 21 inch, 3 week early baby boy with a 15 inch head.

At this point, I go with Rhys while he’s getting checked out and they finish up on Kate. We start at the warmer in the OR and everything looks good there. We go over and see Kate for a few minutes so we can all bond, and then it’s off to the nursery for more checks and shots and a little cleanup. While we’re in there they’re taking down notes for his chart, and I find out his cord was both wrapped around his neck (possibly from the version, possibly from before) and had a (loose) knot in it. That means that any attempt at a vaginal delivery had a much higher chance of becoming an emergency C-Section, and - especially with the knot - could have caused problems for Rhys had we waited, even taking ICP out of the picture.

As Rhys and I come back to our room for the first time, the nurse is checking Kate out, asking her if she can wiggle her feet at all and is dumbfounded that she can lift her whole leg even at that point in time. Everyone is happy and healthy, as they continue to be.

~~~

A few takeaways we have now.

We (Kate especially) still think that pregnancy and childbirth should, under normal circumstances, be treated more like a routine biological process than the serious medical condition they’re so often taken as. While our advances in medicine have drastically reduced the infant mortality rate, we probably know enough now to back off of the more extreme trends of medial intervention in normal pregnancies.

All that said, we both stand by the decisions we made, because they were all taken to address abnormal situations and with the safety of Kate and Rhys at their core.

Most importantly, be an advocate for your own health and your family’s. If you have questions, ask them. If you have concerns or uncertainty, make them known, and have them addressed. I put a lot of trust in healthcare professionals, because they’re the professionals. That doesn’t mean I can’t do my own research, and ask questions if I’m not sure about something.

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