A friend of mine, Ron Bock, just brought up some interesting points on sensitive issues such as race, sexual orientation, etc., in a reply to my blog about the recent remarks of Grey's Anatomy's Isaiah Washington.

I decided to post this in response.  It is a journal we were asked to write for a graduate course in "Teaching Engineering".  The subject matter for the journal was supposed to be our take on how various student issues such as race, gender, personal tragedy, etc., can affect a student.  Moreover, we were supposed to talk about how we would approach these various issues in our teaching. 

This journal is essentially my take on sensitive issues, and probably also indicative of my 'class clown' post... my complete inability to hand in an assignment without drastically changing it to be funny/inflammatory.  Here is what I handed in, completely unedited.  The bold headings are specific topics we were asked to address.

Journal #4 Student Issues

 

Let's just get this out in the open to begin with - I am a white, Christian, male.  Moreover, I am in the majority in terms of weight, height, political preference, shoe size, sexual orientation, etc.  I may be in the majority in every possible category of consequence, and there are darn few of us left!  I am so incredibly in the majority in every conceivable way that I have in a very odd way become a minority.  It is entirely possible that when people refer to 'the man', they are singling me out specifically.  As a result, I am exceedingly uncomfortable talking about most sensitive issues involving race, gender, religious beliefs, or sexual orientation.  As a general rule, when these discussions occur, I am cowering in the corner in the fetal position hoping that nothing in my body language or general demeanor will be interpreted as politically incorrect.   Tell me what to say, and I will say it – tell me what to think, and I will think it… just please don't get mad and yell at me!

 

Admittedly the above paragraph is a little over the top, but I'm guessing there are a few people in class who can relate.  I truly want to be as understanding, sensitive, and accommodating as possible, but I realize I simply have had a different life experience that limits my ability to fully empathize.  I cannot hope to comprehend the day to day difficulties of being a minority, much less a minority in an engineering curriculum.  I am almost paralyzed by the prospect of accidentally offending someone through my ignorance.  I'm not complaining - being a part of the majority has worked out pretty well for me.  Still, I need to be cognizant that these difficulties exists, and work my hardest to accommodate as much diversity as I can.  Although I was only present for a few of the discussions on 'student issues', perhaps the biggest take home message I noted was simply "be sensitive to other people's situations, and be aware that their experiences may differ radically from your own."

 

And now to specifics:

 

- One to one interactions and advising

 

I was actually present for the mock "one on one" advising scenarios, and I can only hope that I will learn to deal with certain situations after a little more experience.  I think if I was the sacrificial lamb for Dr. Montgomery's mock office hour scenarios, I would not have caught on as quickly to the imaginary student's particular issues.

 

There seems to be a tradeoff between acting as an approachable mentor and acting as a motivator/disciplinarian.  I do, however, take issue with the idea that a teacher should establish themselves as friendly/approachable or stern/disciplinarian during the first day of a class.  I think simply arbitrarily selecting an approach limits the number of tools in your toolbox.  For some students, it is necessary to be a proverbial "hard-ass"; in other cases the results would be deleterious.  Each student is different, and a more tailored approach may yield the best overall results.    

 

- Race and culture issues

 

I was not present for the majority of the discussion on Race/Culture issues, so I can't really reflect on those classes.  I think the most important thing is to educate yourself so you can to address the particular needs of different groups of students.  There are a number of resources available to help both teachers and students make student diversity a positive experience for everyone involved.  Wow, that sounds a little cloying.  Educate yourself and we will all dance in fields of gold covered with candy rainbows and magic lollipops!  All the little children of the world will hold hands and sing for world peace! 

 

- Disabilities and psychological issues

 

Again, for disabilities and psychological issues, educating yourself about potential problems and solutions is paramount.  I can say from recent personal experience, if you haven't been there, you probably don't understand.  In my particular case, my brother recently passed away, and I'm pretty sure that fact is going to affect my work for a long time.  I used to think that most individuals are able to function normally a couple of weeks after the passing of a loved one.  Now that I am personally dealing with the death of a loved one, well… it took me 2 hours staring at the "one on one interactions and advising" heading to come up with the first paragraph for that section, and my brother passed away nearly 3 weeks ago.  Normally typing the entire journal for this class takes me all of 15 minutes, so the complete inability to concentrate is exceedingly frustrating.  As a teacher, you may not be aware of any number of factors affecting the quality of a student's work, so yet again you have to be as understanding as possible.   

 

- Gender issues

 

My perspective on gender issues in engineering is a little unique.  My mother has a degree in English, and all 3 of my older sisters have technology degrees.  One of my sisters is ten years older than me, which means she has been an engineer for the majority of my life.  In essence, they helped teach me to become an engineer, so the idea of discriminating against an engineer on the basis of gender is completely unthinkable to me.  In my experience, all of the female engineers I have met are incredibly good engineers.  I can't say the same for the males.  Unfortunately, because I find the possibility of discrimination unthinkable, I often overlook the fact that other males sometimes do discriminate, act inappropriately, etc, unless I am directly confronted with a situation.  

 

- Issues pertaining to smart-asses

 

I think the tragic plight of the smart-ass is often overlooked in today's educational curriculum.  Through no fault of their own, smart-asses are compelled to include incredibly witty (yet somehow humble) commentary completely outside of the context of a given assignment.  There is little understanding of this particular disease, and most educational professionals treat these noble students with derision and the occasional lower grade.  As teachers, we must learn to embrace the smart-ass – in fact, go out and hug a smart-ass today.

 

Author's note:  The teacher of the class gave me a big hug right after handing back this assignment. 

I just had what can only be said to be a very odd experience. I currently have too much adrenaline to go to bed, so I thought typing the story up might make me sleepy.

At about 4:15 a.m., I woke up having to use the bathroom. I opened the door to my bedroom to go to the bathroom, and nearly tripped over someone's head. Completely sleepy and hazy, I got a little nervous. The doors to both of my roommates' rooms were closed, and they had not been drinking at 1 o'clock or so when I went to bed. I also had gone to bed after they did. No reason to have someone passed-out in the hallway that I could think of...

Sadly, as an agnostic (but very sleepy), my first thought was that it was the ghost of my brother who recently passed away. My sister vehemently claims that my brother came to visit her in the middle of the night to tell her everything was alright. As my brother died of a drug overdose, his spirit being passed-out face down in the hallway somehow seemed fitting in my still sleepy head.

I'm ashamed to admit, my first reaction was to go to the bathroom, and turn on the light (instead of immediately checking for vitals). I then looked at the guy on the floor from the bathroom, noticing he was about 5'8", skinny, with sandy blond hair. Not exactly the spitting image of my brother. I decided to close the bathroom door, urinate, and see if the guy was still there when I opened the bathroom door again. I figured I may still be partly dreaming and the guy might disappear in the interim.

Needless to say, when I opened the bathroom door again, the guy was still there. From his hair color and body type, he didn't appear to be a face down version of my two roommates, either (who I have seen in that condition on more than one occasion). I quickly checked to see if he was breathing (he was). I then tried to shake him lightly and wake him up. No response. Do I shake him heavily, or wake up one of my roommates?

I decided to wake up one of my roommates, A) to see if it was anyone he knew, and B) to have someone else there in case the random guy passed out in the hallway reacted poorly when I tried more vigorously to wake him up.

It was an interesting experience waking up my roommate. How do you politely wake up your roommate from a dead sleep, and tell him that there is a guy you do not recognize passed out in the hall, without scaring the crap out of your befuddled roommate?

While gently poking my roommate Mike, in a deliberately calm but authoritative voice I believe I went with "Mike... everything is ok, but there is a random guy passed out in the hallway. He is breathing and has a pulse, there is no danger, but I need you to get up to see if it is anyone you know."

At that point I thought it might be one of Mike's friends who had come looking for sanctuary after a late night out. I was hoping it wasn't someone I knew, but was too sleepy to recognize. I knew it was unlikely to be a friend of Nick, my other roommate, as I've lived with Nick for more than four years and pretty much knew all of his friends/extended family.

Mike was a little difficult to wake up; it took a fairly stern voice and some poking to convey that the situation was a little out of the ordinary. Mike went in the hall with me, wearing his boxers and a white T-shirt (the same outfit I was wearing come to think of it), and I tried fairly hard to wake the passed-out individual up.

I turn to my roommate, after checking breathing and pulse once again.

"Do we call 911?" I asked.

Mike shrugged, put his hands in the air and responded in a slightly higher than normal voice "I... I don't know..."

I decided to try harder to wake the guy up. It occurred to me that the guy might not be drunk, but suffering from some sort of disorienting condition (sleep walking, seizures, hell if I know). Another interesting question: If an unknown guy walks into your house and passes out, how hard do you try to wake him up? At what point would I be A) risking aggravating an unknown and obviously messed-up individual and B) risking liability in this litigious society.

I decided a very loud voice slightly short of shouting, coupled with some fairly hard shaking, was the farthest I was willing to go.

"BUDDY! ARE YOU OK? CAN YOU RESPOND TO ME? YOU ARE PASSED OUT IN A RANDOM HOUSE OWNED BY PEOPLE WHO DO NOT KNOW YOU!!!"

The guy moved his head slightly and kind of groaned.

"BUDDY! WAKE UP! AGAIN... YOU ARE IN A RANDOM HOUSE. WE DO NOT KNOW WHO YOU ARE. PLEASE RESPOND AND LET ME KNOW YOU ARE OK!"

He kind of waved me off with his hand slightly.

Well, we had a random person passed out in the hallway, and who was being fairly unresponsive. Having had the occasional drunk episode when I was younger, and a family that has had more crazy drunk stories than (insert hyperbolic metaphor here when not still half-asleep), I had enough sympathy to not want to get the guy in trouble. Still, I didn't want to risk his health. I turned to my roommate:

"Well, I don't see that we have a choice; he's too unresponsive. I'm going to call 911. You stay with him to make sure he's still ok."

I walked down the stairs, and grabbed the phone to dial 911. While I was dialing, I noticed that the sliding glass door in the back of the townhouse, which is locked on almost every night of the year, was open. Perhaps one of five nights over the four years we lived here all three of us had forgotten to make sure the sliding glass door was locked. What are the odds?

Yet again, calling 911 in this circumstance is a fairly odd experience. I wanted to convey that I didn't think there was too much of a sense of urgency in case they had other more pressing emergencies, and I was worried they would think this was a frivolous emergency phone call in a college town. Also, I really didn't know at that point if the police or an ambulance was more important. In addition, it occurred to me that the police might wonder if we truly didn't know the guy, or had we got him wasted and didn't want to admit it.

As calmly as possible "My name is Kip Ludwig, and I live at ________. I woke up and there was a guy I do not recognize passed out in the upstairs hallway of my townhouse. It appears he came in through the sliding glass door in back. He is breathing and has a pulse, but only groaned at me when I tried to wake him up… I couldn't get him to respond any further after vigorous shaking."

"What is your phone number… hold one second, and I'll dispatch the police to your house."

"Alright, the police and an ambulance are being sent to your location. Call back immediately if ANYTHING about the situation changes."

I went back upstairs to check on my roommate and the guy… no apparent change. I decided to wake my other roommate, Nick. I figured he should be warned ahead of time that the police/an ambulance were coming. Also, there was a small chance it was a friend of his I had not seen previously.

I knocked on the door a few times. No response. I knocked much harder, and opened the door slightly. Nick's dog Jade started barking from his room.

Nick has a female pit-bull, supposedly a breed so aggressive there is a large section of society advocating, and not completely without merit, that they be outlawed. I thought it was funny that not only had this pit-bull slept through an intruder breaking in the house and passing out right outside her master's bedroom, not only had she slept through me shouting at the intruder and the commotion of Mike getting up, but she didn't even start barking when I knocked loudly on her door. Nice little guard dog there, eh?

"NICK! NICK! Everything is OK, but I need you to wake up. There is an unknown guy passed out in our hallway. His vitals are fine, and there seems to be no danger. The police and an ambulance are on the way. I need you to wake up and see if it is anyone you recognize."

Nick pulled off his blanket… at first I thought he was naked. Nope tighty-whiteys… still, didn't need to see that tonight.

A few minutes later, Nick got up. He didn't recognize the guy. We all decided to put more clothes on before the cops arrived. I went downstairs to get a diet coke. Nick followed me down a few minutes later.

Nick hadn't had his good-night cigarette tonight. Normally he leaves the sliding glass door unlocked all day while he goes out and smokes, but locks it after his good-night cigarette. Tonight was the first time he hadn't locked it in ages.

The cops arrived before I had finished my diet coke. I saw the Mag-lights through the blinds in the window, so I went outside to open the door. There was a very tall male cop, and a shorter female police officer. I explained the situation.

The female police officer skeptically asked me "Are you SURE you don't know the guy. He didn't party with you guys and then pass out?"

I don't think I could ever take a lie detector test. When I know I'm telling the truth, I get very nervous someone will think I'm lying anyway. I'm almost more calm when I'm actually lying for some reason.

"Believe me, I have no clue who the guy is. I just had the rather unsettling experience of waking up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and almost tripping over an unknown stranger's head passed out on my floor."

The male police officer tried to rouse the guy in the same fashion I did. Then he took it a step further than I did. He grabbed the passed out-guy by the shirt, hauled him off the ground about two feet, and flipped him over, while yelling at him. Then he physically sat him up.

"Can you sit up on your own?"

"Umm. Ahh….," the wasted guy responded, but sat up on his own. The police officer then unceremoniously pulled the kid to his feet.

"Do you know where you are?"

"I ummm, ah,, I don't want to go to Ann Traight" mumbled the inebriate, but maintained a standing position while leaning against the wall. (Don't ask me, I have no clue what "Ann Traight" is, but he definitely said that, and not the more obvious "jail").

The officer grabbed the wallet from the guy's pocket and looked at the license.

"It says here you are from Mt. Pleasant… is that true?" the officer asked sternly.

"I know I'm in Mt. Pleasant…" responded the drunk.

This might be a good time to point out that I live in Ann Arbor, about a two hour drive from Mt. Pleasant.

The cop grinned. "I repeat, where do you think you are at?!?"

Defensively, and more authoritatively: "I KNOW I'm in Mt. Pleasant!!!"

The officer couldn't help but break-out laughing.

"I think you're in for a little surprise. You're in Ann Arbor. It's about a two hour drive to Mt. Pleasant!"

After a few more minutes, the officers got the guy a little more oriented. He eventually said he was visiting someone a few blocks from our place. The ambulance then showed, but the police waved them off. The kid was walking and talking a fair bit more soberly, but still obviously far from normal.

The cops took the kid outside and I believe put him in the back of the car and drove off (I didn't see it). I doubt they let him stagger to his friend's house (if that story was even true).

If anyone who reads this story knows this kid, tell him to contact me. I'd like to know he's okay, and I hope he didn't get into too much trouble on our account… I called 911 for his safety. Now it's an hour after the cops have left, and I'm going to try to get back to sleep. I apologize if this story is poorly written and edited, but I'm sure y'all understand under the circumstances. What a strange night…

I woke up this morning, and put on some tunes. One of the first songs that played was Right Said Fred's "I'm too Sexy".

I understand we are dealing with a sexy guy. Too sexy for his car - ok, I suppose I can buy that - he could own a Yugo or something, and hell, I'm too sexy for a Yugo. Too sexy for Milan, New York and Japan - alright, unrealistically sexy, but maybe.

The man was too sexy for his cat. This is about where I get lost. How the hell exactly do you determine you are too sexy for your cat? If you have in some fashion figured out that you are too sexy for your cat, the SPCA should take your cat away.

Right Said Fred is a sick, sick man.

Poor cat...

On another note, in Carly Simon's "You're so Vain":

"You're so vain, you probably think this song's about you."

Here's the deal Carly... the guy isn't vain - he's well justified. The song is about him, you fricking lunatic.

Now if I thought the song was about me, that would be pretty vain on my part.

I was on my way to pick up some food today, when "The Devil went down to Georgia" came on the radio. An odd thought stuck me... I don't buy the story behind the song.

It's not that I don't believe that there is some idiot who is willing to put his soul on the line for a golden fiddle - that I can believe. Incidentally, that's a terrible deal... the fiddle would be too heavy to fricking lift, and if you could play it, it would sound god awful. You'd probably have to pawn it - and if you're going to pawn it, you'd be much better off with a cello or tuba of gold. A fiddle is hollow on the inside, so if you melted that bad boy down, you'd probably at most have two gold bars... maybe a couple hundred thousand dollars at best. After taxes you're not left with much (I'm guessing the devil doesn't run a non-profit organization, and considering Bush thinks he talks directly to God, I have to assume he has implemented a tax on gifts from the devil at some point). Not really a great bargain in comparison to eternal damnation. But I digress...

After an honest listen to the song, I can only come to one inescapable conclusion - the devil got hosed by the German judge, and should demand a recount. The devil clearly kicked Johnny's ass... his fiddle playing was infinitely more original, and I'm guessing much more complex to play from a "fiddler's" standpoint. Johnny just played a decent rendition of someone else's song.

Johnny owes the devil an apology, one golden fiddle and one soul, plus interest.

I must admit, I’m absolutely shocked.  Isaiah Washington, the actor who plays Preston Burke on Grey’s Anatomy, has voluntarily entered into therapy.  Earlier this year, Mr. Washington made the news when he called T.R. Night, a homosexual member of Grey’s cast, a “faggot”.  Later, at the Golden Globe Awards, Isaiah denied the incident, saying “"I did not call T.R. a faggot.  Never happened, never happened."

 

I’m not shocked Isaiah checked himself into therapy; apparently hundreds of gay activists threatened to boycott the show because of Isaiah’s insensitivity… obviously a token P.R. move was necessary to appease the angered masses.  I’m shocked the angered masses believe that modern therapy can cure being an asshole.  This isn’t a fricking disease like alcoholism or anorexia; it’s an acquired personality trait, and one that has been encoded in the male psyche for thousands of years.  

 

This story amuses me on a number of levels.  First of all, I think it’s funny that any public figure thinks he can drop a negative gay slur on a member of the homosexual community without repercussion.  No matter how homophobic the public figure is, he has to be aware that this is socially unacceptable public behavior.  Secondly, denying the incident, while using the same epithet in the denial, is laughably stupid.  Finally, I think it’s hysterical that anybody would boycott a show because one of the actors is a jackass.  On any given show, there is likely to be one or more actors/producers/directors/key grips who are drug addicts, alcoholics, wife beaters, child molesters, etc.  Considering this statistical fact, boycotting on the basis of an African American cast member showing homophobic tendencies is absurd.  I suggest you also boycott all TV, Movies, Music, Sports, Government, Restaurants, Bar Mitzvah’s – and while you’re at it the local Chuck E. Cheeses.

 

Here’s the little secret all heterosexual men are afraid to let out in public – we all actively facilitate gay bashing.  It’s encoded in our genes and our traditions; male bonding almost exclusively consists of trying to out “male” your friends, by throwing a ball farther, chugging a beer faster, belching louder, whatever.  I’m sure it relates back to Darwin’s survival of the fittest; the more manly the male, the more likely they are to reproduce.  The loser in these competitions is the lesser male, the one less likely to have sex with a female, which is in some twisted fashion akin to becoming more homosexual. 

 

Listen closely to any group of guys – 90 percent of the jokes will include some sort of gay innuendo.  Awkward violations of personal spaces, affected lisps… hell, simply all the attempts to “out male” your friends.  There is a reason we find it funny when the Kids in the Hall or Monty Python dresses in drag, and it’s all related to the surprise of defying the norm.  Yes, most of us have the decency to not openly engage in this behavior in front of a gay friend or family member because we have no desire to actively hurt someone to their faces.  But behind closed doors, any male who says they haven’t engaged in this behavior is simply lying.  In my experience, this sort of behavior is even more prevalent during male bonding in the African American culture.

 

No, the prevalence of the behavior doesn’t make it right.  It is, however, the only form of bigotry I can think offhand that can be traced back to Darwinian linked rituals.  Hell, I would argue that even the most open-minded of females is at least mildly homophobic. 

 

Here’s the deal – homosexuality is not a choice.  It has a likely physiological basis, and it is caused by a deviation from normal (being defined as the physiology of the majority only) function.

 

Taken directly from Kandel, essentially the Bible for neuroscience:

 

Three structural differences between the brains of homosexual and apparently heterosexual men have been identified.  The suprachiasmatic nucleus was found to be larger in volume and to contain more neurons in homosexual men than in a reference group of heterosexuals.  The hypothalamic nucleus INAH-3, which is larger in volume in men than in women, is reported larger in heterosexual than in homosexual men.  Finally, the midsagittal cross-sectional area of the anterior commissure, which is larger in women than in men, was found to be even larger in one group of homosexual men…

 

It is conceivable that a change in hormonal production or response could alter sexual differentiation in one part of the brain but not another and thus contribute to a homosexual orientation.

 

(Chapter 57, pg 1145, Principles of Neural Science, Kandel, Schwartz, and Jessel 4^th edition)

 

As there is a likely physiological basis, which may be created by a hormonal imbalance during the fetal development, the possibility of testing a fetus for this condition exists.  Moreover, there also exists the possibility to treat the condition with hormones, restoring normal (again, normal meaning “like the majority”) function.

Thus I pose the question - if you could test your child for homosexuality in the womb and then treat the condition, would you?  I suspect the majority of people would answer yes; most parents want their children to be normal, and avoid the unpleasantness that goes along with deviating from societal norms.  However, if your answer is yes, you are at least mildly homophobic - judging a deviation from normal as somehow wrong.