WBEZ | University of California http://www.wbez.org/tags/university-california Latest from WBEZ Chicago Public Radio en Sexual harassment case shines light on science's dark secret http://www.wbez.org/news/sexual-harassment-case-shines-light-sciences-dark-secret-113378 <p><div class="image-insert-image "><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/10578743305_4cb163b81d_z.jpg" style="height: 413px; width: 620px;" title="(flickr/Canadian Film Centre)" /></div><p>A sexual harassment case is sending shock waves through the scientific community this week, and raising questions nationwide about how common sexual harassment is in science and why so little is typically done to stop it.</p><p>A six-month investigation by the University of California, Berkeley concluded in June that a faculty member, renowned astronomer Geoffrey Marcy, violated multiple sexual harassment policies over the course of a decade.</p><p>Marcy has been a leader in the hunt for Earth-like planets beyond our solar system, was head of a $100 million&nbsp;<a href="http://www.breakthroughinitiatives.org/">project</a>&nbsp;aimed at finding life on other planets, and has often been touted as a possible candidate for the Nobel Prize.</p><p>But he resigned Wednesday after a number of faculty members and students in his department publicly released letters condemning his alleged inappropriate behavior with students, and the university&#39;s inadequate response in dealing with it.</p><p>Marcy hasn&#39;t responded to NPR&#39;s request for an interview. He denies some of the allegations, but he posted a public&nbsp;<a href="http://w.astro.berkeley.edu/~gmarcy/MarcyLetter_October7.pdf">apology</a>&nbsp;&quot;for mistakes I&#39;ve made&quot; on his faculty website.</p><p>The school had kept its investigation private &mdash; even from its own faculty &mdash; until the online news outlet BuzzFeed&nbsp;<a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/azeenghorayshi/famous-astronomer-allegedly-sexually-harassed-students">broke</a>&nbsp;the story last week.</p><p>Aside from stating that &quot;Marcy violated campus sexual harassment policy,&quot; the university released no details about&nbsp;what the investigation found. But according to BuzzFeed, the report concluded that Marcy&#39;s offensive behavior included unwanted massages, kissing and groping of at least four students, from 2001 to 2010.</p><p>One of these students was&nbsp;<a href="http://space.mit.edu/people/ballard-sarah">Sarah Ballard</a>, now a postdoctoral fellow in astronomy at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. She first met Marcy a decade ago when she was an undergraduate at Berkeley. He taught her astronomy class and showed special interest in her career, she tells NPR.</p><p>&quot;To have a really renowned scientist praise you &mdash; and praise your ability &mdash; you can imagine, was really encouraging to me,&quot; she says.</p><p>At first, she and Marcy met a few times at cafes around campus, where they talked about astronomy and her career. But sometimes, she says, the conversation became too personal. He talked about when he was young, having sex with a former girlfriend.</p><p>Then one day, Marcy gave Ballard a ride home. He parked the car by her house. &quot;The fact that we were in the car together suddenly made me feel really uncomfortable,&quot; she says. &quot;I think I really realized that the tenor of the mood was really wrong.&quot;</p><p style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="image-original_image" src="http://www.wbez.org/system/files/styles/original_image/llo/insert-images/geoff-marcy-29b56e73dabcdde49c9b7d94c9b5010e57f3f05f-s1200.jpg" style="height: 405px; width: 540px;" title="Astronomer Geoffrey Marcy, shown here at a scientific conference in 2015, resigned Wednesday from his faculty position at the University of California, Berkeley. (Stuart C. Wilson/Getty Images for Breakthrough Initiatives)" /></p><p>As Ballard started to get out of the car, the professor &quot;reached over and was rubbing the back of my neck,&quot; she says. She left the car &mdash; and stopped getting together with Marcy outside of class.</p><p>Ballard says she was afraid to report Marcy. She didn&#39;t want to hurt her chances of going to graduate school. It&#39;s a common and very real conundrum for many women hoping to pursue university research careers, says&nbsp;<a href="http://evmed.asu.edu/katie-hinde">Katie Hinde</a>, a biologist at Arizona State University.</p><p>&quot;Academia has a particular climate that allows sexual harassment, sexual assault and sexual abuses to persist,&quot; Hinde tells NPR. Last year, she co-authored one of the few studies aimed at figuring out how common sexual harassment is in science.</p><p>Hinde and her colleagues&nbsp;<a href="http://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0102172">surveyed</a>&nbsp;roughly 500 women doing fieldwork in a range of scientific disciplines. Seventy percent of those women told the researchers they had experienced sexual harassment, often from their mentors or supervisors &mdash; &quot;people who had power over their career, who had power over their research,&quot; Hinde says.</p><p>In science, letters of recommendation from mentors are particularly crucial to obtaining a coveted faculty position, Hinde says. When a mentor sexually harasses or assaults a woman, it backs her into a corner: She can either report the offense, and possibly hurt her career. Or she can try to ignore it.</p><p>In fact, most harassment is never reported, says&nbsp;<a href="http://www.awis.org/?page=awis_staff">Heather Metcalf</a>, research director of the Association for Women in Science.</p><p>Women are often told to keep quiet about lewd comments, touching and leering, she says. &quot;There is a bit of a norm for those behaviors to sort of be brushed off, rather than be taken seriously.&quot;</p><p>An incident last summer involving the prestigious journal&nbsp;<em>Science&nbsp;</em>shows how common this attitude is, Metcalf says. A young female scientist wrote to the journal&#39;s advice column, asking what she should do about a situation in the lab where she worked.</p><p>&quot;She was really enjoying the scientific work she was doing, but she was feeling really uncomfortable because she kept catching her supervisor trying to take a peek down her blouse,&quot; Metcalf says.</p><p>The magazine columnist essentially advised the woman to say nothing &mdash; to turn a blind eye, Metcalf says.&nbsp;<em>Science&nbsp;</em>eventually retracted the column.</p><p>But the culture of keeping silent about sexual harassment continues.</p><p>In Marcy&#39;s case, it took years of complaints before the university took up its investigation. Then it disciplined him privately.</p><p>The university, which declined an interview with NPR, confirmed in a written statement that Marcy was told to follow strict behavior guidelines or &quot;be immediately subject to sanctions that could include suspension or dismissal.&quot; This agreement was the &quot;most certain and effective option for preventing any inappropriate future conduct,&quot; according to the statement.</p><p><a href="http://www.eisenlab.org/eisen/?page_id=9">Michael Eisen</a>, a molecular biologist at Berkeley, says the school didn&#39;t go far enough.</p><p>&quot;In essence the university convicted him,&quot; Eisen says, &quot;and what was so stunning to me was that Marcy got, at best, something you would describe as a slap on the wrist.&quot;</p><p>By not punishing him, Eisen says, &quot;they&#39;re all but ensuring this kind of behavior is going to continue from others. Basically they&#39;re saying there are no consequences for this type of behavior.&quot;</p><p>In the days since the news got out, many scientists have demanded consequences.</p><p>Thousands of scientists have signed an online&nbsp;<a href="https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1cmFVBKgxybJ874bjA3XdsjtUaddKFalgXcmJLzN7deA/viewform?c=0&amp;w=1&amp;fbzx=6291083879266593521">petition</a>&nbsp;supporting the women who accused Marcy of harassment. And 24 faculty members in the department of astronomy at Berkeley signed and released a letter Monday that said, in part, &quot;We believe that Geoff Marcy cannot perform the functions of a faculty member.&quot;</p><p>&mdash; <a href="http://www.npr.org/2015/10/16/448944541/sexual-harrassment-case-shines-light-on-sciences-dark-secrect?ft=nprml&amp;f=448944541" target="_blank"><em>via NPR</em></a></p></p> Fri, 16 Oct 2015 13:09:00 -0500 http://www.wbez.org/news/sexual-harassment-case-shines-light-sciences-dark-secret-113378 Rustbelt city wants immigrants, skilled or not http://www.wbez.org/content/rustbelt-city-wants-immigrants-skilled-or-not-0 <img typeof="foaf:Image" src="http://llnw.wbez.org//story/photo/2011-November/2011-11-30/2.JPG" alt="" /><p><p><img alt="" class="caption" src="http://llnw.wbez.org/story/insert-image/2011-November/2011-11-30/3.JPG" style="width: 605px; height: 404px;" title="Deserted houses like this one mar Dayton’s East End. (WBEZ/Chip Mitchell)"></p><p style="text-align: left;">Lifelong Dayton resident Monica Schultz, 36, brings me to the East End block where she grew up. “This whole street was full of families,” she says. “Kids were running around playing, all within my age range.”</p><p style="text-align: left;">Now no kids are in sight.</p><p style="text-align: left;">Schultz points to a half dozen abandoned houses, including one right next door to her family’s place. She says the city has boarded it up a few times but stray cats keep finding their way in.</p><p style="text-align: left;">“We had a flea infestation problem,” she tells me. “People walking by could see the fleas or feel the fleas or get the fleas. All of the yards in the neighborhood here were becoming infested with fleas.”</p><p style="text-align: left;">Schultz says the city can’t keep up with houses like this. “It’s one of many that need to be bulldozed,” she says. “But it’s on a list.”</p><p> <style type="text/css"> div .inline { width: 290px; float: left; margin-right: 19px; margin-left: 3px; clear: left; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1em; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: 0pt 5px; padding-left: 3px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; }div .inlineContent { border-top: 1px dotted rgb(170, 33, 29); margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 2px; }ul { margin-left: 15px; }li { font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1em; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: 0pt 5px; padding-left: 3px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; }</style> </p><div class="inline"><div class="inlineContent"><a href="/frontandcenter"><img alt="" src="http://www.wbez.org/sites/default/files/story/insert-image/2011-November/2011-11-06/FC-logo-sm_0.jpg" style="width: 280px; height: 38px;" title=""></a><ul><li><strong><a href="http://www.wbez.org/episode-segments/2011-11-28/great-lakes-workers-faring-better-canadian-side-border-94389">Workers faring better in Canada</a></strong></li><li><strong><a href="http://www.wbez.org/story/using-sound-find-leaks-and-save-dollars-94303">Using sound to find leaks and save dollars</a></strong></li><li><strong><a href="http://www.wbez.org/story/gas-drilling-could-take-air-out-offshore-wind-93875">Gas drilling could take air out of offshore wind</a></strong></li></ul></div><div class="inlineContent">&nbsp;</div></div><p>Dayton’s population has been shrinking since the 1960s. Most of the area’s factory jobs are long gone. To save the city, Schultz has embraced a new idea: Help immigrants and refugees lay roots in Dayton.</p><p>Schultz, who owns a small marketing firm, helped lead community meetings that generated a 72-point plan called “Welcome Dayton.” City commissioners approved the plan this fall. The points range from better immigrant access to social services, to more translations of court materials, to grants for immigrants to open shops in a dilapidated commercial corridor, to a soccer event that supporters envision as a local World Cup tournament.</p><p>Schultz tells me the plan could revive a Dayton entrepreneurial spirit that sparked inventions ranging from the cash register to the airplane. “You would have small businesses,” she says. “You would have coffee shops and you would have bakeries and you would have specialty grocery stores.”</p><p>Dayton is among several rustbelt cities suffering from population loss and brain drain. To create businesses and jobs, some communities are trying to attract immigrants, especially highly educated ones. Dayton stands out for the attention its plan pays to immigrants without wealth or skills.</p><p>The plan even addresses people without permission to be in the country. One provision calls for police officers to quit asking suspects about their immigration status unless the crime was “serious.” Another point could lead to a city identification card that would help residents do everything from open a bank account to buy a cell phone.</p><p>City Manager Tim Riordan, Dayton’s chief executive, says welcoming all types of immigrants will make the area more cosmopolitan. “I think there would be a vibrancy,” he says. “We’d start to have some international investment of companies deciding they ought to locate here.”</p><p>Foreign-born residents so far amount to 3 percent of the city’s 142,000 residents. For a mid-sized U.S. city these days, that’s not many.</p><p>But Dayton’s immigrants and refugees are increasing their numbers and, Riordan says, they’re already making a difference. He points to a neighborhood north of downtown where some Ahiska Turks have settled. “They were refugees in Russia," he says. "Here they’ve bought houses. They’ve fixed them up. And, sometimes when I talk to hardware store owners, people will come in and they’ll buy a window at a time. ‘I’ve got enough money to put in another window.’ It’s slow-but-sure change.”</p><p><img alt="" class="caption" src="http://llnw.wbez.org/story/insert-image/2011-November/2011-11-30/2.JPG" style="margin: 4px 18px 2px 1px; float: left; width: 275px; height: 280px;" title="A Dayton pizza parlor run by Ahiska Turks adds life to a decaying neighborhood. (WBEZ/Chip Mitchell)"></p><p>Not everyone in Dayton is on board with the plan.</p><p>In a corner tavern on the East End, a 62-year-old bartender serves the only customer what she calls his last can of beer for the night. It’s a Friday, just 11 p.m., but she’s closing. “The owner can’t pay me to stay any longer,” she tells me, speaking on condition I don’t name her or the bar.</p><p>The bartender says the tavern could be on its last legs and tells me what happened to three other East End bars where she worked. They all shut down. She says that’s because many of the neighborhood’s Appalachian families, who arrived for manufacturing jobs after World War II, have moved away.</p><p>“NCR closed down, Dayton Tire and Rubber closed down, GM and Delphi and Frigidaire,” she says, pausing only when her customer slams down the beer and bellows something about a “last paycheck.”</p><p>The bartender tells me she doesn’t like how Riordan and other Dayton officials are handling the exodus of families who’ve been paying local taxes for generations. “Why won’t he try to keep those kinds of people here?” she asks. “He wants to welcome the immigrants to come in here. What can&nbsp;they&nbsp;do? Where are they going to get the money to fix up anything? What jobs are they going to get to maintain what they fix up here? There are no jobs here. None.”</p><p>It’s not just locals like the bartender who have doubts about “Welcome Dayton.”</p><p>Steven Camarota, research director at the Center for Immigration Studies, a Washington group that pushes for strict immigration controls, acknowledges that attracting immigrants would increase the size of Dayton’s economy. “But that’s different than arguing that there’s a benefit,” he says. “Growing an area’s gross domestic product, but not the <em>per capita</em> GDP, doesn’t mean anything. It wouldn’t be very helpful. In fact, there might be problems with that.”</p><p>Camarota says the low-skilled immigrants would put downward pressure on wages for workers on Dayton’s bottom rungs.</p><p>But Italian-born economist Giovanni Peri of the University of California, Davis, says low-skilled immigrants would bring what Dayton seeks—and more: “One, they will increase the variety of local restaurants, local shops. Second, they will provide a variety of local services, such as household services, care of the children, of the elderly. Third, they will also develop and bring an atmosphere of diversity and higher tolerance.” Peri says these low-skilled contributions would all help Dayton attract immigrants with more resources.</p><p>The willingness of many immigrants to perform manual labor for low pay, Peri adds, could create jobs for longtime residents. He points to landscaping companies: “They will need people who mow the lawn but also they will need accountants, salespersons, a manager and drivers.”</p><p>Dayton’s approach—welcoming immigrants with and without skills—is the “optimal strategy,” Peri says.</p><p><img alt="" class="caption" src="http://llnw.wbez.org/story/insert-image/2011-December/2011-12-01/4.JPG" style="margin: 4px 18px 2px 1px; float: left; width: 275px; height: 219px;" title="A Dayton church translates sermons to Spanish through headphones. (WBEZ/Chip Mitchell)">Whether a city’s immigrant-integration plan can actually attract many people is another question. About an hour east of Dayton, the city of Columbus launched an immigrant-friendly initiative in 2002 and saw its foreign-born population grow fast. But that city’s economy is much more robust than Dayton’s. It had already been attracting immigrants for years.</p><p>The results of “Welcome Dayton” could depend on how it works for city residents like a 25-year-old mother whom I’ll call Ana López. (She&nbsp;doesn’t have papers to be in the country so I agreed not to use her real name.) López says she came from the Mexican state of Puebla as a teenager at the urging of a friend who had arrived in Dayton earlier.</p><p>López says her first job was in a restaurant with a big buffet. “We didn’t come to take work away from anyone,” she tells me in Spanish. “Rather, there are jobs nobody else wants.”</p><p>Now López and her husband have three kids, all U.S. citizens. The family has managed to buy a house. And it’s found a congregation, College Hill Community Church, that provides simultaneous Spanish interpretation through headphones.</p><p>But Dayton hasn’t always been hospitable. López says police officers caught her brother-in-law driving without a license and turned him over to federal officials, who deported him.</p><p>Looking at the “Welcome Dayton” plan, López says providing the ID cards and removing the police from immigration enforcement could make a difference for families like hers. “These families would tell their friends and relatives to move to Dayton,” she says.</p><p>That’s exactly what city leaders want to hear.</p></p> Thu, 01 Dec 2011 11:27:00 -0600 http://www.wbez.org/content/rustbelt-city-wants-immigrants-skilled-or-not-0