Editorial
When Mother Nature flexed her muscle on Washtenaw County, officials at Washtenaw Community College faced the difficult decision of whether or not to send a mass alert to students and staff warning of possible tornados. In the end, they decided not to send out an alert and many at WCC were left scratching their heads as to why. The answer is simple: Students don’t want to be bothered. After receiving many complaints from students about unwanted alerts from the school, officials decided not to bother students with weather updates. And while we don’t think that is the right call, it’s understandable. Students constantly complain about being inundated with alerts and emails from the school and then complain about not getting an alert when it’s convenient. How hard is it for students to take a look at an alert and decide whether or not the information is important to them? It takes 15 seconds to read an alert and delete it. Thankfully, no one was injured on their way to campus that day, but next time we might not be so lucky. College administrators should not feel like they’re bothering students when they are looking out for their safety. Officials have admitted that it was not the right decision and in the future they will send an alert regardless. So next time, when you get an alert from the school remember that while it may not seem significant to you, it could save the life of one of your peers.
Editorial
It’s become like clock-work each spring at Washtenaw Community College, the Board of Trustees gather at their annual retreat and discusses an increase in tuition for students. Three weeks later they meet again and the end result is our tuition again rises. Currently, the board is discussing two different options on how much of an increase students will face in the 2012 Fall semester. It is expected that the board will vote on the increase at the March 27 board meeting. While it’s understandable that tuition will go up, why are students always the first option for a check? When the college needed money for the parking structure, it turned to the students to help pay for it. And many of the students who had their tuition jacked up are not even on campus now to reap the benefits of the structure. Have you been to the Health and Fitness Center? If you have, you’re one of the few. But we all have paid for it in one way or another; yet still get over-charged if we want to use the facility. WCC likes to promote itself as one of the most affordable community colleges in the state. And trustees always talk about doing “everything is in the best interest of our students.” While we can’t argue either of these statements, if costs continue to rise, there might not be any more students left to ask for a handout.
As the recording industry has evolved over the years, certain characters have risen to the top of the mania and have held tightly to their prominence. Garnering massive success despite careers that often become increasingly repetitive, these rock stars have a way of cashing in on their past achievements decades after the fact. This desperate process of repeating praise for musicians whose creativity rapidly evaporates has proven successful only in weakening the credibility of the once-proud gods of music. The executives behind such sellouts care not about the image of the artist, only on taking a slice of a well-baked, but crumbling pie. This year, albums from a reformed Van Halen, an elderly Paul McCartney and smug-as-ever Ringo Star have shown a similar lack of effort for continuing music careers that were once progressive and innovative. These people are disgustingly self-satisfied and their latest efforts wallow in remembrance of past musical successes, without any attempt at a new sound. Fans are left disappointed when they are tricked via their loyalty into buying the boorish and masturbatory supposed comebacks. Just think about how McCartney’s first solo release in five years features only two original songs. It is clear these geezers are getting old and losing their steam. We as the public are subjected to the tragedy of watching and paying for our favorite stars to burn out. I wish I could remember Sir Paul simply as the Beatle and rock god of yester-year, but the fat cats in the recording industry insist on milking the poor guy for all the change they can get. Now I am left to remember my favorite Beatle as a hokey old man singing corny jazz numbers from the depression era. Thanks a lot, and don’t spend my 18 bucks in one place!
From behind their badges and uniforms, cruising in their squad cars and glaring accusatorily at fearful passersby, police officers have over time gained a considerable amount of power from their responsibility to protect and serve. This year, The Washtenaw Voice has heavy-heartedly endeavored to cover crime in this area, striving to accurately cover the issues of the Ann Arbor and Ypsilanti police departments, as well as the Washtenaw County Sheriff’s Department. It hasn’t been easy. We have had to call the AAPD constantly to get the most basic details about jaywalking and have been denied conversations about our county’s homeless epidemic. The Ypsilanti police refused to talk to our reporters about medical marijuana and political protests. We know they are busy, but so are we. Our own school has been much more helpful. Although we have struggled to accurately transcribe heavily redacted and blacked-out security notes, and occasionally experienced difficulty in locating the campus crime log, Campus Safety and Security has been open and consistently friendly to our reporters. The Voice has conducted countless interviews this year with campus security officers on a wide range of topics from assault to parking. Director of Campus Safety and Security Jacques Desrosiers has had a presence in nearly every issue. He was particularly open when his office moved to the new parking structure, giving us multiple tours of his “new digs.” But getting pertinent details about some crimes on campus has been difficult at times, and we the people have the right to this information. It is up those in the media and others who care about their First Amendment rights to fight for this freedom to investigate and expose whatever facts the public needs to know. We deserve to know how we are being served and where our tax dollars go. The AAPD and other law enforcement agencies in the area should take a lesson from WCC Campus Safety and Security and open up to reporters. This public information enables us to write the stories so that we can connect these important issues to the people. When we and our readers are denied this connection, it only succeeds in making the police look like they have something to hide. Their jobs are hard, granted, but before you become too sympathetic, ask yourself: who watches the watchmen?
My dad taught me the basics of changing a flat when I got my first car. “Apply the proper pressure, don’t over-tighten the lugs, and make sure you give yourself enough room to make adjustments,” my dad said. “Righty-tighty, lefty-loosey.” I was 18, and I rarely ever listened to the advice given by my old man. I should have. A year before I got my first car, I started hanging around a classic “bad crowd.” My health had been in jeopardy, along with my family life, and when I got out of it, I had built up stereotypes about people that followed the same kind of negative lifestyle and thinking that I had. I hung out with countless losers and a handful of homeless individuals who preferred panhandling for their harmful lifestyles instead of personal prosperity. It was vile, but I equated homelessness with these harmful activities. That was until I met Tim. It was the weekend after Valentine’s Day, a Saturday, and I had bought my girlfriend a “Royal Treatment” massage in Ann Arbor. While I waited, a therapist told me that I might have a flat. Indeed it was. Cold and pissed off, I started trying to take off the lugs. My disposition caused confusion and weakness, and I couldn’t get them loose. “Left-loosey, but which way is left?” I said. That’s when Tim stepped in. He had rough and calloused hands and an age-worn face like eroded monuments. At the time, Tim was doing some maintenance work for the parlor. He dropped what he was doing and proceeded to help me with my lugs. He didn’t have to help, he had his own work to finish, and I was sure he was on the clock so I offered him $5. “I don’t mean to be rude, but can I give you a couple of bucks?” I asked. Tim responded politely saying yes, and that it could be a big help. Tim was homeless, and had been staying at the Delonis Center. I offered him a cigarette and talked to him for a while about his situation. “You know, I didn’t help you out for the money,” Tim said. For the first time since getting my head right, I knew what he was saying was true. I thought about Tim for the rest of the evening, wondering if he’d be alright or if he was warm, or if someone was there to “bum” him another cigarette. Most of all, I felt wholly ashamed with myself. My dad taught me another lesson when I was young: don’t judge a book by its cover. I never listened, and I should have. It took a whole four years of my own harmful behavior to build a stereotype, but it only took one flat tire to change my view of an entire group of people. Thanks, Tim. Stay warm. God bless.
Editorial
With the unsettling string of thefts on the campus of Washtenaw Community College becoming more apparent, officials at the college have figured exactly who is to blame when property is stolen: The victims. You read that right – the people who have their stuff stolen are the ones to blame – not the criminals. At least that is the opinion of Campus Safety and Security. The head of CSS recently told a member of The Voice: “We are encouraging people to watch their own stuff. People need to be empowered to watch their belongings. If someone leaves a laptop in the computer commons, comes back and it’s gone, shame on them.” We wholeheartedly agree that people should keep an eye on their belongings, but to infer that it is their fault if someone steals from them is extremely harsh and insensitive. If someone walked in and stole a television from one of the lobbies on campus, would it be okay to say that it’s the fault of CSS and WCC? By the way, someone did steal a TV from a lobby last year. Imagine someone runs a red light and hits your vehicle. Would it be okay for the police to tell you that it’s your fault because you were in the way? No. And in the case of people stealing, it is never the victim’s fault, because stealing is wrong in the first place. But we understand where CSS is coming from. How dare people on this campus be trusting enough to expect a little decency from our fellow citizens? Having someone steal from you is a major violation of a person’s being, and to be told it’s your fault only adds to the hardship and trauma. So while those in charge of our safety might want to shame us for having our stuff stolen, we at The Voice says shame on Campus Security for its insensitive and cold-blooded stance on the theft victims at Washtenaw Community College. We’re better than that.
Editorial
Recently, Washtenaw Community College President
Rose Bellanca unveiled a “strategic planning process”
aimed at improving the overall appeal and value of this
college. Certainly we applaud the efforts of Bellanca
and her administrators in trying to make Washtenaw
an even more desirable place to receive an education.
As part of the planning process, the college is work-
ing with experts in the fields of agriculture, health care,
manufacturing, energy and informational technologies
to help guide the college toward where these industries
are headed and how WCC can keep students on the
forefront of those industries.
Clearly the students enrolled in these programs will
benefit from this initiative, but only if they do not have
to go even further into debt to do so.
We all know that earning a college degree or upgrad-
ing job skills does not come cheaply. But as the school
digs deep into these growing fields, WCC will have to
spend money to hire consultants and “experts” in order
to get an insight into their knowledge. Sooner or later,
that money is going to have to go back into the budget
and students will most likely be the ones writing the
checks for those consultants.
And that is simply unacceptable. Tuition has been on
the rise for years at WCC and signs suggest that anoth-
er increase will be necessary next fall. How much of an
increase is anyone’s guess, but with a declining tax base
and fewer students on campus, it appears to be likely.
The planning process has been described as some-
thing of a five-year plan that will be worked on yearly to
keep up with the ever-changing marketplace. So while
it’s a great plan to keep students at WCC ahead of the
curve, it seems possible that the current corps of stu-
dents will not see the benefits of this process right away.
We encourage Bellanca, the Board of Trustees and
the administrators at WCC to keep in mind that while
we all want the best education possible, we don’t have
an open checkbook.
On the morning of Feb. 20, 2009, I woke up to the sound of my cell phone going buzzing. I had a terrible feeling about why, and after I hung up the phone those fears were confirmed – and I was on my way to St. Joseph Mercy Hospital in Ann Arbor. I arrived to find my father in a coma and the doctors were telling us to make arrangements for family to come say their goodbyes. Later that afternoon, Lance Edward Durr passed away. Needless to say, I was devastated. My father taught me most of what helped shape me as a person, as it is with many sons. But as was my father’s way, nothing about it was conventional. He taught me about the importance of hard work. Before he passed, I was working at a local grocery store, and I hated it. But I lacked the motivation to get myself back in school. That was until I opened his wallet the day after he died and found a five dollar bill inside. He died with only five dollars to his name. My father never had a steady career, and struggled to make it work for our family. I used that wallet as a catalyst to get back in school and find myself a career. I still have his wallet and occasionally I open it up to help remind myself why I’m working so hard. He taught me the importance of taking care of myself and my body. When I was 12, my father had quadruple bypass surgery for four clogged arteries in his heart. Years of smoking, poor eating and drug use had destroyed his body. Granted it wasn’t until recently that I took eating healthy serious, but I’ve never smoked or done drugs because I saw what it did to his life. He taught me to enjoy every moment with my family that I can. Prior to his passing, we had planned on going to a Red Wings game on my birthday in March. Obviously that never happened, and it still hurts to this day that we never got to see that last game together. Now that I have a family of my own, I cherish the little things like grocery shopping and watching my daughter try to feed herself spaghetti. And while I’m taking in these moments, I often think about how much I miss him. I could go on and on about things I learned from him (including not walking in front of the TV when the game is on. Many a thrown slipper taught me that one) but I would run out of space. My dad was a lot of things to me: A parent, a friend, a guardian, a chauffeur and much more. But most importantly, he was the greatest teacher I’ve ever had. Voice staff note: We all agree that Mr. Durr did a fine job raising his son. The only shortcoming we’re aware of, and it’s a big one, is that Matt was raised as a New York Yankees fan.
With the Iraq war over and operations in Afghanistan winding down, soldiers choosing not to make the military a career are returning home to live out the rest of their lives as civilians. Welcome home. Public opinion on war veterans has improved significantly since the Vietnam War, but that doesn’t mean returning home has gotten any easier. Veterans transitioning from military to civilian life have to deal with a lot of problems that many people don’t seem to fully understand. Some soldiers return home with physical scars anyone can notice immediately, but many more soldiers return home with mental scars, suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder (ptsd). Over the years, ptsd has been stigmatized by popular culture; that needs to stop. People like to assume that a veteran diagnosed with ptsd is a blood-crazed psycho who is just one flashback away from snapping. There have been a few incidents where veterans have hurt others, but that does not mean every veteran is crazy. In reality, ptsd affects everyone differently and not every veteran suffers from it. Besides dealing with the constant stigma surrounding ptsd, veterans returning to civilian life have to deal with the normally simple task of what to wear every day. Deciding what clothes to put on may not seem like a hard task, but for someone who has been wearing the same camouflaged uniform every day for years, picking out what to wear and building a socially acceptable wardrobe can be a challenge. Returning to the civilian world is a social shock for some veterans. If a soldier falls and is hurt, he is quickly picked back up by the soldier next to them. If a civilian falls and is hurt, everyone around them just stairs blankly and does nothing, too afraid to get involved. Living preoccupied by lawsuits, who could blame them? Soldiers returning home don’t ask for much. They just want to be respected, accepted and understood by the people they swore to protect honor and serve. Transitioning back into a life you no longer understand or are welcomed in is difficult. I know. I’ve been trying to it for the past two years.
Ten days ago, I got to fulfill a lifelong dream by covering an annual celebration of the late, great Detroit hip-hop producer and emcee James Dewitt Yancey, known better by his legion of adoring fans as J Dilla or Jay Dee. Yancey’s music changed the landscape of what hip-hop sounded and felt like, and his reach transcended the Motor City. Yancey passed away from complications with TTP in 2006 at the age of 32, and while he isn’t around, anybody who has heard his beats regards this man as the Jimi Hendrix or Miles Davis of the art form. Because of his contribution, Detroit emcees have an avenue for getting their music heard by a national audience. Seeing more than a thousand people paying tribute to the man made me think deeply about the kind of difference that one small rock can make in the ocean of inspiration. It is a most fitting observation in the midst of Black History Month, a time to remember the many activists who hurled rocks of all sizes to create the same kind of lasting ripple. Most of all, it makes me think about the kind of difference that staff of The Washtenaw Voice can make as aspiring journalists. A few months ago, The Voice released a special tabloid edition on the struggles of the homeless in Ann Arbor, aptly titled Street Voice. At first, I was skeptical that one newspaper could help attack such a massive problem. Yet this month, that change came to fruition. Apparently a barber whom Voice staffer Bob Conradi visits learned about a homeless encampment called Camp Take Notice from our tabloid. The barber told Conradi that shortly after reading the article, he encountered a woman who had been kicked out of her home by her parents. He introduced her to the camp, and she was welcomed with open arms until she could get back home. As Conradi put it, our reporting made a difference. It was a small venture out into a world that we did not know existed. We reported the facts and made people aware, and because of that, we added a rock that made another giant ripple. If you haven’t thought about how your actions can affect someone for the better, please take a moment today to appreciate who and what you have, and how one act can make an enormous impact. And if you are interested in making an impact with The Voice, come and visit us in TI 106. Be the change that you want to see.
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