In-person of sorts
In-person of sorts Heading link
Like most universities around the country, UIC is back to in-person instruction. Despite the push to return to pre-pandemic days where every class, meeting, and event required physical attendance, we still have an opportunity to rethink how we occupy the physical spaces of the campus. Several questions come to mind for me. How are we considering accessibility in the decision to return to in-person instruction and work? How does returning to in-person serve the institution’s commitments to equity and inclusion? Are we making space to think about how we will incorporate virtual events and spaces in our programs and units after the COVID-19 pandemic winds down (I am being hopeful)? Which students are having the more difficult time re-adjusting to in-person instruction and campus life, and how can the institution better support them? How can we use our spaces for trauma-informed care of faculty and staff whose mental health has been suffering over these two years? Of course, I ask these questions not only of the institution, but also of myself and the unit that I lead. And some of them are easier to answer than others. As a center that champions equity all around, WLRC is thinking about these issues and acting on them when and where we can. For example, our entire staff—student workers included—is engaged in study of materials produced for UIC Disability Cultural Center’s “Skill Up for Accessibility” series held in Fall 2021. Our goal is to learn, experiment, implement, and reflect so that we can end up in a better place than we started.
Student parents
According to recent studies, student parents have been hit particularly hard by the COVID-19 pandemic. That’s not entirely a surprise if we consider how the group has been made invisible and made to feel as if they do not belong on 4-year college campuses. Despite calls for such since the beginning of the pandemic, student parents have not factored in any significant way in the plans of most universities. Student parents are part of our UIC campus community; they show up in our departments and classrooms as students and instructors, are present in advising and work, and participate in programs and events. But the extent to which the university actually names and serves them as such is a different matter; the Wellness Center is probably a lone exception. We know that academia can be generally unkind to parents, and so the experience of students can be particularly alienating. It does not have to be that way, though. The work of supporting and advocating for student parents has often taken up by—or left to—women’s centers. Over the years, WLRC has tried to do so in fits and starts: from offering support groups, resource materials, and educational programs, to pushing for structural changes like lactation rooms and expansion of on-campus childcare options and family housing. Despite the lack of robust data describing the student parent population, we continue to raise awareness through our programming and resource development. Thankfully, the Student Data Collection Act was signed into law by Governor Pritzker in July 2021; the new law mandates public universities like UIC collect data on students who are also parents. Let’s continue to think together about what more UIC can do.
Melissa Ortega
A third-grade student at Zapata Academy in Little Village was killed by gunfire recently. A recent immigrant from Mexico, she was among the latest casualties of gun-related violence in Chicago. Walking to Walgreens with her mother to complete an errand became a dangerous activity for a parent and child. To hear her mother, Aracely Leaño, talk about her child’s dreams and desires, you can imagine Melissa enrolling in UIC one day. Many of our current students have roots in Little Village. Several UIC units like the Latino Cultural Center work with organizations in the neighborhood. We share the sense of sadness, loss, and anger at violence that is fed by the unending thirst for guns in American society, failed public policy, and toxic masculinities expressed through street-level warfare in our most marginalized communities. As we try to figure out what justice can look like for this parent, community, and the many children who are witness to and affected by gun violence, I hope that we continue to amplify the voices of youth and of mothering individuals who are fighting to bring peace, safety, and justice to Chicago’s neighborhoods.
Black History Month
Every year, UIC recognizes Black History Month with programming that features a mix of scholarly and cultural engagement, often around a theme. This year is no different. UIC students selected the theme of “Family Reunion,” which is interpreted through events like Soul Food Brunch and a workshop on genealogy and constructing family trees. Be sure to check those out. Even as the creation of spaces for Black joy in the midst of the pandemic is a necessary move, we are reminded that familial spaces can be fraught for women and queer folks, offering both healing and trauma. For Black women whose bodily integrity and right to creating and building families are often curtailed by patriarchy, racism, poverty, and the state, family is complicated business. Look out for Professor Michelle Goodwin’s talk on these issues on February 22; the event is cosponsored by UIC’s African American Cultural Center.
Also check out the “28 days of Black Excellence” podcast series hosted by Dr. Aisha El-Amin, Associate Vice Chancellor for Equity and Belonging in the Office of Diversity, Equity & Engagement. It’s only Day 2; you still have time to catch up!
Harriet Tubman’s bicentennial
It has been 200 years since Araminta Ross, known to us as Harriet Tubman, was born into enslavement in Maryland. Ms Magazine is leading the celebratory year by offering an interdisciplinary look at Harriet Tubman’s legacy, and featuring the work of Black feminist scholars, artists, and thinkers. The project is simply beautiful.
On Amy Schneider and Jeopardy
Finally, if you watch Jeopardy, you know that you saw greatness in the form of Amy Schneider, the winningest woman in Jeopardy’s history. If you didn’t watch, be sure to catch the reruns and be amazed and delighted at the range and depth of her knowledge about esoteric topics. Amy Schneider’s presence on our televisions for forty days gave us another representation of transgender women—of one living life fully and nerdily on their own terms, whether or not we were looking or listening. She wrote a column that you should read. There’s a lot to be discussed—about the queer Chicago librarian who ended her run, and also how we can think about Amy’s stunning performance alongside the very different life chances of too many transwomen who are living on the margins of society. Let’s keep the conversation going.
Take care of yourselves and each other,
Natalie Bennett