Inaction at the University of Washington

This blog is part of my ongoing effort to maintain a record of my written communication expressing concern to the actions of the current presidential administration that do unnecessary (and in some cases cruel) harm to others. 

I am guilty of being at best annoyed and at worst really angry about the lack of leadership coming from the central administration of my employer (University of Washington).  I had to write and rewrite the letter below many times in order to remove the over "emotive" words that might have caused my words to be ignored or dismissed altogether. I acknowledge that the administration may be doing something to protect the community, but I don't see it.  So, at the risk of sounding cliche, I wrote as I see it.  

Written on January 25, 2025, at the end of the first week of the second Trump Administration.  President Cauce issued a statement on this issue on January 27, 2025. The relevant text is provided at the bottom of this blog.  

Dear President Cauce and Provost Serio,

I am writing to advocate for more visible and substantial efforts by UW central administration to protect the UW community from the immigration policies and actions that are being pursued with disturbing speed by the new presidential administration.   While I appreciate the wealth of information and resources available on UW web pages including undocumented student resources and the undocumented students pages, I strongly believe that becoming substantially more proactive with regard to guiding and advising UW students, faculty, and staff has become urgent and necessary.  

While I respect the UW's desire to remain politically neutral, there is much that can be done while maintaining political neutrality.  Advising all students, faculty, and staff to carry copies of relevant documents on their person (U.S. passport, relevant visa, green card, etc.) would be welcome and helpful.  Encouragement to those who are eligible to obtain or update their U.S. passport (considered the gold standard of U.S. citizenship) would also be both timely and appropriate.  Advice regarding how to respond to immigration representatives who question those in our community with little or no notice would also be most helpful to many of us.  Words and tone matter in responding to those in power, particularly those with blanket mandates in hand.   Mentoring individuals in our community, whether documented or undocumented, with regard to best choices of how to respond to immigration officials can go a long way to reducing harm and injustice.   

I am no expert on best practices in the current situation.  As a birthright citizen, I am shocked that my citizenship as well as the status of others whose parents are or were not U.S. citizens has even come into question.  I am equally concerned about others in my community who are not U.S. citizens.  

Please help us.  Help our community.  We welcome your leadership.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

**********************************

The following is an excerpt of a letter sent via email to students, staff, faculty, and academic personnel in the University of Washington community on January 27, 2025.   Despite the many struggles and disappointments I've had during my career at the UW, I felt blessed to be part of a community that is standing up to protect students vulnerable to deportation without due process.   

Dear UW community,

Every change of U.S. presidential administration brings with it changes in federal policy. But the whirlwind of executive orders and policy directives of this last week, combined with rumors of more to come, have created anger and fear for many in our community, while eliciting support from others. Whether in favor or against, or some of each, rapid change and uncertainty can be a source of anxiety and distress, especially when it is still unclear what some of these orders will actually entail and how they may affect our students, faculty or staff and our University community more broadly. Please know that we are closely evaluating and monitoring these policies and the possible impacts they could have on members of our community and on our public values of access and excellence in teaching, research, service and patient care and are in the process of evaluating how to deal with various scenarios....

One area of special concern given our University and state’s ongoing commitment to the educational success of Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) recipients and undocumented students is how to respond in the event that federal officials from U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) or other representatives seek information about undocumented students and/or come to a UW campus or facility for an enforcement action.

 Washington state law prohibits the sharing of information or use of state resources, including University resources, to target Washington residents solely on the basis of race, religion, immigration, citizenship status, or national or ethnic origin. In addition, most student information is protected by federal law (FERPA). While immigration officials cannot enter a classroom, laboratory, campus residence or private office without an appropriate warrant or judicial order, we are not legally permitted to prevent federal immigration officials from coming into the public spaces of a UW campus or facility. And there might be instances when we will be required to respond to valid warrants or judicial orders.

If immigration officials come to your classroom, laboratory, campus residence or office, you must immediately contact the relevant safety office — their numbers are listed below. They’ll work with the Attorney General’s Office so that we can respond appropriately given relevant state and federal laws. Employees should also notify their supervisor. We would also appreciate it if you would contact your safety office if you become aware of immigration officials on a campus or at a UW facility more generally. Finally, Washington Governor Bob Ferguson today issued an executive order directing his administration to make preparations for supporting children whose caregivers are detained or deported, including working with the state’s colleges and universities to support students facing these situations. More directives or support from the state may be forthcoming.... 

Mr. Scott and Mr. Hegseth

I don't have any sugar to coat my feelings about Pete Hegseth becoming the next Secretary of Defense.   And given the fact that Mr. Rick Scott doesn't respond to my letters, I don't have any sugar to coat my letter to him either.  I feel terribly guilty about taking a position on political issues, mostly because my employer has for years pushed the idea that neutrality is the "high road" and strong opinion on political issues is a no-no.  But, that's a topic for another day.  

My letter to Mr. Rick Scott, Republican Senator from the Sunshine State, follows, sent a few hours before Inauguration Day 2025.  

Warning, the letter is not very sunny.   

Dear Senator Scott,

I am writing to you regarding your support of Pete Hegseth to be Secretary. of Defense during the Trump administration set to begin tomorrow --  January 20, 2025.   I doubt that anything I could say would sway your decision to vote in favor of his confirmation.  Since I am also largely unfamiliar with what it takes to be a fair and competent leader within the military, my opinion regarding Mr. Hegseth's suitability to the position is not as credible as it could be.

As a woman engineer who has spent many years in a male dominated field, however, I have a great deal of understanding of what being a woman in the military is like. Engineering is close behind the military in the rates of sexual harassment of women.  Harassment and assault are especially prevalent in out-of-office trips and events such as the conference where Mr. Hegseth was accused of sexual assault.  

Sexual assault, harassment, and other sex-based discrimination can dehumanize, diminish, and shame a woman.  It often steals a woman's potential and limits her many years after an incident(s).  Violated sexually, women understandably have a very difficult time coming forward at all and it is the rare woman who is brave enough to come forward in the current political climate, risking being profoundly shamed and dehumanized all over again.   Is it then truly "disgusting" for a woman not to come forward (as you stated on your interview with Jake Tapper) given what she might face?  Would you want your daughter to face a barrage of questions and an interrogation focused on discrediting and shaming her?  

Given all these things and the fact that only two people really know what went on in Mr. Hegseth's hotel room, I would like to strongly appeal to you that if you do vote in favor of Mr. Hegseth's confirmation, you also strongly advocate for and  actively support increased and improved measures for protecting women in the military from sexual harassment and assault  While increased misbehavior toward women may or may not happen as a result of Mr. Hegseth's confirmation, the fact remains that there is higher than usual risk given Mr. Hegseth's past.  And that risk must be addressed if the Senate chooses to confirm Mr. Hegseth's nomination.   The answer cannot be "it's not in our purview" or "the resources aren't there."  

I think we can all agree that we must protect the people who serve our country.   Protecting women from "friendly fire" in the military is as much a part of such protection as making sound judgements about when and when not to send our troops overseas.   

Trauma Turds

I was first introduced to somatic therapy (via traditional talk therapy) late in 2023 as I was attempting to plow through a traumatic episode (like a bull in a china shop) and was struggling with a pathetic lack of progress and the anxiety that went alongside of it. 

At the time, I couldn't decide whether somatic therapy made good sense or  was some crazy, harebrained new trend that would soon pass (with more emphasis on the latter).  According to the experts and other folks who know far more than I do, somatic therapy treats mental health (particularly PTSD, anxiety, and its many cousins) by strategically focusing on and leveraging the mind-body connection.  The therapy is based on the premise that stress, tension, and traumas (including the wickedly entrenched and seemingly unreachable type) are stored deep in the body somewhere and leaving them there is a fabulous recipe for poor physical and mental health over the long haul.   Through proper mind-body exercises, somatic therapy is though to coax the body into releasing buried trauma.  Once those traumas have resurfaced in search of their freedom, the mind can (presumably and with the right kind of help) wrestle them into a healthier tomorrow.  

Sounds very logical but I was skeptical.  My body wasn't exactly sending me email about where all this trauma was hidden or how it would cooperate and let go of it.  

But I felt like I had hit a wall with talk therapy ... the large brick, insurmountable type.  Not because I lacked an excellent therapist, but rather because my mind seemed pretty skilled at keeping what I had not yet talked about in therapy out of all present and future conversation.  When my mind was hell-bent on something, it seemed to get its way no matter what kind of negotiation I entered into with it. This was in no small part courtesy of many years of education and training that brainwashed me into believing that good scientists and engineers let the mind and rational thought run the show... always.  

Despite feeling skeptical and having to fight off my trained mind, I resolved to be open-minded about somatic therapy and dip a single toe in the water (one toe, not the big toe, and no more).  To do this, I began taking yoga classes as my token baby step forward.  I hadn't done yoga in several years ... since shortly after COVID-19 took over the world and created its own trauma.  My lapse meant that I was about as limber as a piece of rebar.  And while I knew from past experience that regular yoga practice would resolve the rebar issue and make me more flexible, I was not looking forward to the inevitable pain and soreness that would get me from here to there.     

In the past, I had treated yoga as mere physical activity -- a means to minimize the stiffness, aches, and pains that aging was invariably pushing onto my radar screen on a regular basis.  I had been warned by conservative Christians that going to yoga class was tantamount to worshiping pagan gods by diverting me to Eastern religion.  Downward Dog would most certainly lead me away from proper Christian life  Peaceful warrior, mountain pose, and forward fold would then advance me into Satan's den.  Etc.  Ugh.   

When I considered whether these perils were potentially valid, reason and emotion returned me back to God's promise that He would chase me to the ends of the earth if I lost my way.  So, in the unlikely event that the devil was indeed hiding in one or more of my yoga classes, I was confident that God could and would pluck me out of Satan's grasp and set me straight. In the meantime, I would drag the Holy Spirit into yoga practice with me, and invest in the practice spiritually, emotionally, and physically to see where it could take me.   

As I started the second phase of yoga practice in my life, I began to pay more attention to what was going on in my mind, in my breath, and in my heart... all while I played advanced Twister with my body.  I thought that meditation, if I could muster it, would calm the running commentary in my mind. If  I could get past pondering how my body was not a pretzel while my instructor was busy trying to tell me so.  If I could find peace in the occasional moment of limberness.  If I could experience mind, heart, body, and spirit at the same time -- well, then, that would be progress.

Slowly, I was able to do something that I  had never done before ... meditate.  In meditation, my mind wasn't blank, but it was at least less busy and more calm.  A million thoughts running around a hundred miles a minute cooled down to a handful of thoughts milling about with no particular place to go. Progress.

And slowly, guess what?  I discovered that trained, experienced therapists were right.  In the moments of paying attention to my breath, attending  to one body part at a time, and raising my awareness of the complex machinery that makes up the human body, I started to notice weird stuff going on.  I felt  little pieces of pain, sometimes deep and sometimes light, breaking off from various parts of my body or breath -- and heading inward -- to my heart center.  

Though not a tangible place, the heart center  is still recognizable as the place where my deepest feelings hide.  It is close to the physical heart but not actually the physical heart.  It is oddly and simultaneously -- very nebulous and very distinct.  

The little pieces of pain that broke off from various places in my body and stages of my breath to be hurtled toward my heart center at high speeds ... deserved a name.  For lack of proper scientific terminology to describe them, I settled on calling them Trauma Turds.  I don't know the size of the Trauma Turd army that lurks within my being.  Yet, I see who they are when they escape their trenches and travel toward  my heart center like asteroids barreling toward an unsuspecting planet.  

As the turds crash land, they hurt, much like an acute moment of grief or a deep disappointment. They have no individual names. I don't know who they are or what they represent. But I think the whole point is that I don't really need to know what part of my life or which experience pooped them into my mind-heart-body.  But I suspect that the escaped trauma turds will eventually have a voice, at least enough so for me to face them, deal with them, and give them a swift kick out of my psyche.  

Wretched turds.   

Despite the weirdness of it all, my one toe in the water is happy .   I am still a little skeptical about my happy toe, but I am willing to dip another toe or two in similar waters and continue on in this journey. To release, accept, and face the Turds.  That is the goal here.

Yoga practice isn't the whole solution, but it certainly seems to have set me onto an interesting and hopeful path forward.

And on a spiritual note, instead of leading me away from God, yoga practice has instead drawn me closer.  In the silent times when meditation becomes within reach, when the gears in my mind ratchet down and allow thoughts to move more slowly, I do more of what I have historically done not nearly often enough. Pray.  

But then... 

Zing.  There goes another one.

Stupid Turds.

Notice. Refocus. Meditate.

Pray.

Zing. 

Sigh.

 

Holidays made Simple

 

I asked Google (which knows everything and wouldn't ever lie to me... right?):  "What is Friendsgiving?" and  Google dug up the following for me out of cyberspace:

"... Friendsgiving is a good way to gather friends, colleagues, or neighbors who are unable to go back home to their family or are wary to travel."

Interesting that there is nothing in Google's notion of Friendsgiving that recognizes that some don't have family "to go back home to" or  that some "are wary to travel" because they don't have the money or the days off from work necessary to hop in a car, train, or airplane headed to a faraway destination where family reside.   

Regardless of Google's limitations (of which there are some ... sorry Google), I am delighted that the concept of Friendsgiving has gained steam and popularity over the years.   It has certainly reduced the stigma associated with not being invited to (or hosting) a large gathering of blood-and-marriage relatives around a gargantuan  table with enough food to feed half a village (and still enough left over to serve an additional village of canines and felines).   Gone are the days when I feel "less" because the table is set only for two or because  Christmas dinner consists of warmed leftovers consumed in front of a Hallmark Christmas movie or a football game (or both).  

I never thought that I would spend a holiday season feeling "full and whole". I lack what American culture has traditionally said I need to have to feel that way -- a holiday filled with holiday parties, meal preparations, and large family gatherings.  

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring because...  we were all exhausted from... socializing.   

Of course, there is no proper rhyme to this sentiment, but it still rang true during the 2024 holiday season.   It all started on the day before Thanksgiving when we hosted a dinner (or delivered dinner) to friends and neighbors to give a break before the Big Meal Prep started.   On Thanksgiving day, we made the long commute to the house across the street where our neighbors Josie and Jack were hosting a large Thanksgiving gathering for friends and family.  And so it went through the holiday season. Hosting dinners and enjoying the hosting of others. Cooking, Baking, and  No-Baking, exchanging treats until our GI tracts were overloaded with delicious food and launching a protest over the frequent overeating and lack of routine cuisine.  

At the end of the season, while making the last long commute from another neighbor's house back home after a lovely New Years Day party, I realized that I had hardly had time to feel lonely or depressed this holiday season.   

While Friendsgiving may, in the eyes of some, still only deserve a second or third place finish among the "best" ways to spend the holidays, it has many first place qualities.  Almost exclusively, I spend time with people I like and whose company I enjoy. I don't worry about difficult conversations among family members who may not get along with each other.  I don't get over-tired  by obligation, but have an option to reach that point by choice.  I have no large commitments to gift giving, so each gift is amply sprinkled with thought, love, and reflection.  

And let's not forget that if I socialize enough, I can largely forget about the fact that a large majority of my work colleagues could care less about what I am doing or how I feel over the holidays. 

Last but not least, if I eat enough, I can forget that I won't be able to spend time with some friends because they are restricted to family-only events over the holidays.

In 2024, I gained a new appreciation for this modern Friendsgiving plus alternative to Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the other holidays that spring up between late November and the first of January. 

Who needs those feelings that start to creep in at the start of Thanksgiving week? Feelings of sadness, loneliness, isolation, rejection, and their emotional cousins. Blech.

Adios. Au Revoir. Wiedersehen.  Goodbye Holiday Depression.  

I am deeply grateful for all the friends who surrounded me this past season. And yes, even for two of my best friends who I happen to be related to by blood or marriage.   

In fact, especially so.