Author: Laura Ingles

How much money does it take to make an honest living?
For the past 14 years, the UVA students and faculty members who make up the Living Wage Campaign (LWC) have argued that it takes more than minimum wage.

While six of the 10 highest-paid state employees in Virginia work at UVA, many staff members at the University are expected to live and support their families on $9 an hour, said Emily Filler, a graduate student and one of the campaign’s organizers.
“I know people who are working full time and can’t make rent,” she said.

UVA students and faculty gathered to demand that school officials agree to institute a living wage of $13 per hour for its employees. Living Wage Campaign members gave officials a deadline of February 17 to respond to their demands.

The LWC members had hoped that new UVA President Teresa Sullivan would provide a more receptive audience than the past regime, but they’re not holding their breath, something they made clear at a rally held last week.
“We want to show them that we’re serious,” Filler said.

Shortly after the noon bells rang over Grounds, Sarajanee Davis, president of the University Black Student Alliance, thanked the 50 or so people who showed up in support of the campaign for their efforts in this “very pertinent issue to the community.”

At the rally, the campaign issued a new set of demands to University administrators. Foremost on the list was an hourly wage of $13 adjusted annually to comply with cost-of-living, in addition to uncompromised benefits, including health insurance. The wage demand represented an increase from earlier requests for $11.44 per hour, which matched the city’s minimum wage structure. LWC members also asked for “safe, just and humane” working conditions guaranteed for all workers and the creation and facilitation of a Living Wage Oversight Board.

Associate Professor of Religious Studies Cindy Hoehler-Fatton was the only faculty member to speak at the rally.
“We cannot aspire to be the caring community that President Sullivan envisions, when we turn a blind eye to the fact that our custodial staff, dining service workers, and some of our hospital employees are not earning enough to cover their basic necessities,” she said. “We faculty cannot do our jobs, and the University as a whole cannot function, without the hard work and dedication of all its employees. And we cannot be a healthy, vital community when some of our fellow full-time employees must take second and third jobs to be able to pay rent, put food on the table, and provide for their children.”

LWC organizers said they would give the administration until February 17 to respond to the request before they moved to “take action to publicize the unjust wages and employment practices currently in place at our University.”

Organizers presented a petition signed by more than 300 UVA faculty members that reminded their leaders that numerous peer institutions have established a living wage and that the City of Charlottesville currently requires all contractors to pay a minimum wage of $11.44 per hour.

A sign at the rally read, “Everyone must bear witness where wrong has been done.” Organizers asked whether the University would finally recognize Thomas Jefferson’s words and take steps to institute a living wage standard.

After the rally, two campaign members marched into Madison Hall to hand deliver their demands and the petition to the president.
“Our work is not done,” said Davis, “but we will accomplish this goal.” 

“I remember thinking, ‘Where is my youngest daughter? Where is she?!’” Kimberly Mitchell, a resident of Mineral, recalled the fear that overtook her on Tuesday, August 23, 2011, the day a 5.8 magnitude earthquake shook central Virginia.*

Michael Allen of Bumpass said he was hesitant to register for FEMA assistance because he thought the process would drag out. Allen’s floor buckled and his well and septic system were damaged in the September earthquake that rocked central Virginia. (Photo by John Robinson)

Mitchell, who was working in Charlottesville, felt the quake, but was much farther from the epicenter than her five school-aged children. Upon confirming that the epicenter was in Louisa, her home town, she dropped everything and drove straight home, desperate for her kids to be safe and accounted for.

Through text messages and phone calls, she established that her four oldest were frightened but safe. It took longer to get ahold of her second-grade daughter.

“When she got off the bus, I literally just grabbed her,” she remembered, and laughs because even the bus driver couldn’t hold it together during this tearful reunion.

Once the initial shock and fear subsided, the same questions lingered on the minds of many Louisa residents: Now what? How do you begin to recover from a disaster that nobody could have seen coming?

That’s where the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) comes in. This nationwide organization devoted to helping families recover from natural disasters provides cost-free inspections for homeowners who suspect that their home may have sustained damage from the earthquake.

On Thursday, January 5, the Louisa County Disaster Recovery Center (DRC) reopened after the holidays, allowing its residents to seek assistance and ask questions in person. Residents of Louisa and the surrounding counties are strongly encouraged to visit the DRC, regardless of how significant their damage is.

Four months after the initial earthquake, new evidence of damage is appearing in homes. Small cracks in walls and foundations have grown larger with the 50-plus aftershocks, and cracks in roofs and ceilings are becoming more problematic in the cold, rainy weather. The latest batch of complications includes muddy well water and backed-up septic tanks.

These issues are not always obvious to the naked eye, however, so many families simply do not know whether or not they need to register.

“There’s nothing wrong with registering if you’re unsure,” said Monte Marsh, DRC Manager.

Michael Allen, a resident of Bumpass, registered with FEMA recently.

“I’ve suffered damage that I really didn’t know I had,” he said. “At the initial time I really didn’t see anything, but now I’m starting to see stuff pop up.”

In addition to well water and septic tank complications, Allen’s floor is buckled, and his back deck has twisted, its posts completely bent.

He and his family were hesitant to register with FEMA, unsure of how difficult the process would be, but Allen was pleased with his experience at the DRC.

“They just seem to want to help,” he said.

But some families and individuals are reluctant to accept this help.

“I felt like there were other people in the county who probably needed more help than I did,” said Julie Maxey, who lives on a large farm with her extended family. Despite their cracked chimneys and damaged foundations, Maxey and her family still live in their houses, whereas many homes in the area suffered such significant damage that residents were forced into temporary housing.

Amanda Reidelbach, Community Partnership Coordinator for Louisa County Department of Human Services, wants members of this close-knit community to encourage one another to register with FEMA. Residents have learned about FEMA through news releases, church announcements, fliers sent home with school children, even groups going door-to-door. Reidelbach hopes that this widespread outreach will be enough to encourage homeowners to register.

“The goal is to have every single house register for federal assistance,” she said.

As of January 10, over 4,400 homes have registered with FEMA, with more than $8.2 million approved and dispersed. Louisa alone has received about $7.2 million, and as more families in surrounding counties learn about FEMA, more funds will be distributed.

“We are here to help,” said Art Alejandre, public information officer. Alejandre wants families to know that FEMA does not draw from a set amount of money. “As long as folks register, and as long as they’re eligible, they will continue to receive the funding.”

The registration deadline is March 5. The DRC is open Monday through Saturday, from 10am to 6pm.

* An earlier version of this story incorrectly stated that the earthquake occurred on September 23, 2011.

 

On January 12, against the backdrop of the Rivanna River and a perfectly clear sky, Ari Rubenstein, organizer of Environment Virginia, told a small audience that included City Councilor Dede Smith and Albemarle Supervisor Ann Mallek that it was time to restore the Clean Water Act.

Angus Murdoch (left), Rivanna Conservation Society board member, and Ann Mallek, chairwoman of the Albemarle County Board of Supervisors, share their concerns for cleaner water in Virginia. (Photo by John Robinson)

This year marks the 40th anniversary of the act. However, the Clean Water Act is not what it used to be. Due to several Supreme Court cases questioning whether smaller waterways such as headwaters and seasonal streams were protected, loopholes have emerged over the years. These loopholes have left 57 percent of Virginia’s streams, and the drinking water of 2.3 million residents, unprotected.

“To be able to truly celebrate 40 years of clean water,” said Rubenstein, “we need to protect our rivers and the Chesapeake Bay by restoring the Clean Water Act.”

This month, President Obama will receive a letter, signed by over 80 Virginia farmers and elected officials, urging him to support the protection of Virginia’s waterways. The president has proposed guidelines that will clear up ambiguities, and concerned Virginia residents want him to continue and finalize the process in 2012, as well as clarify which waterways are protected.

Angus Murdoch, a local farmer and Rivanna Conservation Society board member, spoke on the importance of clean headwaters. He explained that, “Unless you’re standing a stone’s throw from the river, you’re in a headwater stream”—drainage ditches, small springs, even storm drains. If we do not take care of them, cautioned Murdoch, we are not going to see improvements in the larger waterways.

“What we do to the headwaters is what we do to the river, to the Bay,” said Murdoch.

The City of Charlottesville is doing more than sending letters to the president. In 2012, the city, along with the Nature Conservancy and the Rivanna Trail Foundation, will work to restore a portion of one of Charlottesville’s major waterways, Meadow Creek. The stream, a part of the Rivanna River watershed (and thus a part of the Chesapeake Bay watershed), has been listed as an “impaired waterway,” due to extreme bank erosion and sedimentation. Such pollution-laden sediments can suffocate fish, block sunlight needed for vegetation, and ultimately destroy aquatic habitats along the streambeds.

“While the restoration project is going to look messy for a while, the end result will be a healthier stream and forest for our community,” said Diana Foster, a member of the Rivanna Trail Foundation (RTF) board. Foster said that RTF “has been most pleased with the information that The Nature Conservancy has provided to us well in advance of the project, and we have been working closely with Chris Gensic [the city’s parks and trails planner] to provide safe hiking alternatives for trail users during restoration.”

The city will also conduct a number of small projects to restore the stream—among them, the replacement of invasive species with native plants and trees that will reduce erosion and further sedimentation. The city has compiled a design for the creek, and workers will reduce the steep slope of the high stream beds, and add structures to realign the stream channel.

 

“I’m safe. I’m not okay, but I’m safe.”

I couldn’t respond in any other way to the hundreds of phone calls, text messages, e-mails and Facebook posts asking me how I was doing. It was April 16, 2007, a day that Virginia Tech and the rest of the world will never forget, the day Seung-Hui Cho killed 32 fellow students and faculty during my first year in college. My friends and I were safe, but we were locked down, terrified, and bewildered. Our beloved campus, our safe haven, had been violated.

Last Thursday, December 8, Virginia Tech’s campus was once again shaken by a random and heartbreaking act of violence. A 22-year-old Radford University student named Ross Truett Ashley shot and killed Virginia Tech Police Officer Deriek Crouse, a 39-year-old father of five, before taking his own life in a parking lot nearby. Police still don’t know what motivated him.

(Photo by Chris Keane/Newsvom)

Brendon Burns, a 2008 Virginia Tech graduate from Virginia Beach, lives, works, and coaches in Blacksburg. He was in the middle of a busy lunch shift on Thursday when the restaurant started to buzz with news––something was happening on campus. When the television switched over, a hush fell over the restaurant.

“It started to unravel the same way April 16 did, as we were glued to the TV, waiting to hear how bad it was, who was hurt or killed,” Burns recalled. “But unlike April 16, my initial reaction was anger; it was happening again to Virginia Tech, to Blacksburg.”

“Our hearts are broken again,” said Virginia Tech President Charles Steger in reference to the 2007 shooting. Steger called the loss of any human life “a tremendous tragedy” and said Thursday’s killing “brings back some difficult memories from the past.”

But there’s another emotion on the Virginia Tech campus this time around: anger. Anger at how it could happen again. Anger at the negative attention it will inevitably bring. Anger at the way the media seems so quick to make a pattern out of unconnected events.

In 2009 a Chinese graduate student named Haiyang Zhu decapitated another graduate student Xin Yang, and while he was arrested within minutes of the 911 call, the national media spotlight came back to campus.

Anger is the most common feeling among students and alumni I’ve spoken with in the past few days. The shooter, Ross Truett Ashley, was a student at Radford University, a 30-minute drive from Virginia Tech, and he had no obvious connections to Blacksburg, Virginia Tech, or the campus police department. People around town are wondering what people around the world must be wondering: why Blacksburg? Why is this small, close-knit community, tucked away in the New River Valley, a target for random acts of violence?

Before Thursday, Rebecca Naramore, a junior from Springfield, Virginia, said she had never felt unsafe at Virginia Tech.
“This is my third year as a student here, and I have never felt in danger in any way,” Naramore said.

Naramore was on campus on Thursday amidst the emergency vehicles, sirens, and fear. She spent the afternoon worrying about a friend who had been heading toward the Cage, the site of the second shooting. It wasn’t until she found her friend, safe and sound and without a phone, that Naramore breathed a sigh of relief.

A timeline of tragediesApril 16, 2007 – Virginia Tech stu- dent Seung-Hui Cho kills 32 people before turning the gun on himself.January 12, 2009 – Chinese grad- uate student Haiyang Zhu stabs and decapitates fellow graduate student Xin Yang in a restaurant in Virginia Tech’s Graduate Life Center. (He is later sentenced to life in prison). December 8, 2011 12:15pm – During a routine traffic stop in the Coliseum parking lot, Virginia Tech officer Deriek Crouse, 39, is shot and killed by an unidentified male who approached the car and opened fire. The first campus alert goes out at approximately 12:36pm. Approximately 12:45pm – A Montgomery County Sheriff’s Deputy observes a man walking in the “Cage” parking lot, less than half a mile from officer Crouse’s location. The individual is later found dead of a self-inflicted gunshot wound. 4:30pm – Lockdown is lifted and news conference held to update the public on the day’s events. December 9, 2011 – Virginia State Police identify the shooter as Ross Truett Ashley, 22, of Partlow, Virginia. He was a part-time student at Radford University.

After the shootings in 2007, Virginia Tech was publicly criticized for its slow reaction time in responding and alerting the campus. Since the tragedy, the university has developed, tested, and improved an intricate system known as VT Alerts. The system warns students, faculty and alumni of emergencies on campus through a complex network of channels, including sirens, electronic classroom signs, text messages, and emails.

At 12:36pm on Thursday, while writing at my home in Farmville, I received the first text message. “Gun shots reported—Coliseum parking lot. Stay indoors. Secure doors. Emergency personnel responding.”

Suddenly I was a freshman again, locked down in the library for four hours, staring out the window as police cars zoomed across the hallowed ground of the Drillfield, fearfully wondering why my roommate wasn’t answering her phone.

Despite being hours away, my heart wrenched and went out to every student and faculty who had to go through the experience again. The agonizing pain, the confusion, and the fear were real again, and I yearned to be back in Blacksburg.

Emily Wilkinson, a senior from Smith Mountain Lake, Virginia, and the student body vice president, summed up the mood: “Awful. Everyone’s heartbroken.”
For days following the 2007 tragedy, being on campus felt eerie, unreal. Volleyball courts, usually home to overzealous freshman boys and girls reading Cosmo, were empty. Dining halls were quiet. The Drillfield lacked its usual spark, no longer bustling with students high-fiving on the way to class, tossing footballs or passing out fliers for organizations and events. My beautiful, vibrant campus felt down-trodden, solemn.

But Tech came alive again. The Hokie Nation found the courage and the strength to grieve, support one another, and, eventually, move on.

On Friday, December 9, 2011, over 4,000 students, faculty, alumni, and community members gathered on the Drillfield to honor Crouse and his family with a candlelight vigil.
Blacksburg’s notorious December winds took the evening off, making it “cold and eerily still,” according to Burns. The Hokies that night were silent, solemn in the soft light of thousands of candles. When student body president Corbin DiMeglio and theater professor Susanna Rineheart finished speaking, “Taps” rang out over the Drillfield, played by Corps of Cadets members. After a moment of silence, a group of students started a round of the “Let’s Go Hokies!” chant.

On Saturday, Burns says that some normalcy was returning to the campus and Blacksburg as a whole; students haven’t forgotten what happened, but they’re still living their lives.
“It’s exam weekend here, but the memorials on the Drillfield are reminders of it,” Burns said.

On the Facebook pages of dozens of students and alumni was the same message, a message that says three random acts of violence will not define our community: “From the outside looking in, you can never understand it. From the inside looking out, you can never explain it. Virginia Tech is more than a school…it’s my home and family. Our campus does not deserve this heartbreak. neVer forgeT and pray for Virginia Tech. We will always prevail. Stay safe, Hokies.”