UD HRC Fellow Reflections on Global Solidarity

As I walk over to the small brick house with a thatched roof, a woman I have known for the past four years props up a small wooden bench under a tree. She greets me by name. The rest of her family gathers around; children I have watched grow up from small boys and girls to young men and women. I sit down with my good friend who will be acting as my translator. We sit together as the woman tells us about her experiences in this village. 

I am here to listen to her story and the stories of others in Lubwe, which lies in the Chifunabuli District of the Luapula Province in Zambia. I have worked with this community for four years, and with the help of the Human Rights Center, I am here to assess the Cultural Immersion Program and how the University of Dayton can strengthen our relationship with this community. My journey in Zambia has stretched me, pushed me, challenged me, and rewarded me in ways I could never have imagined. Not only has this journey changed what I know about Zambia, but more importantly, it has changed what I know about myself and my role in a global society. 

I first traveled to Zambia with the University of Dayton Cultural Immersion Program through Campus Ministry’s Center for Social Concern in the summer of 2016, the summer before my senior year at UD. 

My initial perceptions of Zambia were shaped heavily by the media, Hollywood, and images of poverty and destitution perpetuated by international development agencies and Christian mission groups. I came to the country with my own background - my middle-class upbringing, my whiteness, and my Catholic Christian religion, all of which I had never considered from a specific African perspective. Nothing I learned in a classroom could have prepared me for how it would feel to begin deconstructing all of my preconceived notions about Zambia.

I will never forget the time when we were sitting down at dinner at the Marianist Formation house, Faustino house, and I was talking to my friend Willie who lives with the Marianist brothers in Lusaka. He said something that truly stayed with me. “Zambia is not a country that needs to be saved, it is a country that needs to be known.” At the time, I emphatically nodded my head in agreement. I was trying to be friends with this new person and take in everything he was saying. But as I sat in reflection on this statement, I truly came to understand both the simplicity and the complexity of it. Of course he wanted his country to be known. That is not hard to understand. But why did he have to say that to us? Why was his country a country that he knew was portrayed to the rest of the world as a country needing to be helped? Why was it necessary for him to say that he just wanted his country to be known? 

The longer I remained in Zambia, the more I reflected on the bigger and more complicated questions regarding our trip. This trip started pushing me to ask: Why? Why did certain situations make me uncomfortable? Why does the United States have resources that Zambia does not? Why am I all of a sudden feeling guilty about who I am and where I come from? Why do I know of so many groups of Western students who travel to countries like Zambia, and why do I not know of any students from Zambia who journey in groups to Western countries? What is the point of going abroad to “make an impact” when there is so much need in my own neighborhood? Why do I feel like I need to “make an impact” anyway? Why is the Zambian currency worth 1/17 of the value of ours? What has created such an unequal world? What am I doing here?

With all of those questions swirling around in my head, I moved forward and focused on getting to know Zambia as much as I could. When I did, I wholeheartedly fell in love. Acquaintances quickly became friends - people who I truly care about. Falling in love and becoming friends with people in Zambia has driven me to advocate for this country and its people in the context of my own life. I'm slowly but surely learning how to use what I have been given to amplify the voices of those who become lost in the noise of international aid, travel bans, and mission trips - the practices and policies which perpetuate problematic narratives in which people are treated less like capable human beings and more like problems needing to be solved. 

I have returned to Zambia three different times since my first trip in 2016. I maintain close relationships with many people in that country, and I continue to have conversations with them daily. Through a friend, I recently joined a local NGO group called OPA - Organization for Poverty Aid. I have been communicating with the organization through Whatsapp, sharing ideas on how we can work together to help each other achieve our goals. I keep in contact with religious sisters and brothers I have gotten to know over the years. We chat about our lives as friends do and offer prayers for one another. I keep in touch with Mercy, an amazingly strong woman and friend who is currently working on her midwifery degree at the University of Zambia. I chat with Willie about school and life and his goals for the future. Zambians are the kindest, most welcoming people you will ever meet. Their joy radiates out of the most beautiful of smiles; welcome and accommodation are in their culture. They are friendly and loving people, and their priority is making everyone feel at home.

We live in a globalized world - a world filled with millions of images that we interact with every single day. I think it’s important now more than ever to search harder and look deeper for the true and whole story about a person and about a country. We have a responsibility to pay attention to the narratives being perpetuated by those in power. We have a responsibility as American citizens to understand how our politics affect the lives of people in other countries. We have a responsibility to search for truth and love and to respect those from other parts of the world as our brothers and sisters. While I do not know the answers to many of the questions I listed above, it is important that I am asking them. Asking and sitting with those questions is the ultimate value of these experiences. 

We also have a responsibility as a University to provide programming for students which works toward the common good and an equitable society. In May 2019, before my last visit to Zambia, I participated in the Midwest Institute organized by the University of Dayton in partnership with GLOBALSL, a network of institutions and organizations which, according to their website, “advances ethical, critical, and aspirationally de-colonial community-based learning and research for more just, inclusive, and sustainable communities.” Participating in this institute deepened my knowledge of “Fair Trade Learning” practices which argue that “project selection, implementation, evaluation, and decisions about recruitment, representation, and advocacy must develop through continuous consultation with community members.” Taking the time to hear the voices of those we interact with all over the world must continue to be a major part of our programming. 

The relationships I have with people in Zambia give me hope. They show me how able we are to love despite such vast differences, how capable we are of learning from each other, and how much our well-being as members of a global family is tied to those living thousands of miles away. How we choose to run our programs affects lives on the other side of the world. We must acknowledge the responsibility we have to protect vulnerable populations who feel the consequences of our actions. While it seems like we are separated now more than ever before, this pandemic reminds us of how we are united in our mission to defeat our common enemies and achieve the Sustainable Development Goals. Global cooperation is not an option, it is a must. As I navigate these uncertain times away from my coworkers and loved ones, my relationships with people in Zambia remind me that connection across distance is possible and worth pursuing. These relationships will continue to shape my life going forward. They inspire me to continue working for mutually beneficial programs that promote a more sustainable, equitable, and connected world for all.

Miranda Melone will graduate from the MPA and Nonprofit and Community Leadership Graduate Certificate programs in May 2020. She works as a Graduate Intern for the Center for Social Concern and a Graduate Assistant for the Political Science Department.

Our Summer Researching the Use of Restraint and Seclusion in Ohio Schools

Restraint and seclusion practices are not typically discussed in conversation about school, but discussions regarding these practices must take place to ensure the right of students to safety in schools. The US Department of Education defines restraint as “a personal restriction that immobilizes or reduces the ability of a student to move his or her torso, arms, legs, or head freely” and seclusion as “the involuntary confinement of a student alone in a room or area from which the student is physically prevented from leaving”. School psychologists are ideal candidates to ensure that restraint and seclusion practices are being used in ethical and safe ways within their district.

The Use of Restraint and Seclusion by School Psychologists
Emily Mosca '21

I spent last summer interviewing school psychologists about restraint and seclusion practices in their districts. We believed that school psychologists would be ideal to interview because they regularly deal with behavior problems, on individual and district wide levels. They are also qualified to recognize developmental issues within the district, and create a plan to address them. I questioned school psychologists about their involvement in and opinions on their district’s restraint and seclusion policies. 

Most school districts in Dayton and Columbus, report very low numbers of restraint and seclusion. When I talked to school psychologists in districts with low numbers, they reported that their involvement with restraint and seclusion was similarly little. They said that the district would review situations where restraint and seclusion were used on a case-by-case basis. With such low numbers, a case-by-case review is the most logical. I then asked the school psychologists whether their district was prepared if these numbers increased. Many responded that they did not feel their district would be ready for increased numbers of restraint and seclusion instances, or how to review larger amounts of this data. It is important to conduct reviews of the data so that schools can be sure they are only using these practices when absolutely necessary. Many school psychologists in these districts also stated that they wanted to see more mandatory training on restraint and seclusion practices for their staff. That way, if restraint and seclusion needed to be used, staff would understand how to perform the procedures in a legal and safe manner.

Looking more closely, there are a small number of districts in Dayton and Columbus, Ohio that report high numbers of use of restraint and seclusion. Many school psychologists from these districts said that they are more involved with these practices. However, even with the high numbers, many of these districts did not internally review their data. Many of these districts still looked at restraint and seclusion instances on a case-by-case basis. While it is important to look at these cases individually after they occur, it is equally important to look at this high volume of data as a whole to make sure procedures are being used in a safe and appropriate manner. The school psychologists interviewed agreed that there should be a more formal analysis of this data; an annual review could consist of  a committee of people that look over the cases for the past year to analyze restraint and seclusion data.

My summer research allowed me to look at the reality of restraint and seclusion practices in Dayton and Columbus; this research has brought the lack of review of data and trends on this critical issue to the attention of school psychologists in these areas. These educational professionals are qualified to change the procedures within the district, and will hopefully make changes to protect their students regarding restraint and seclusion. 

Using Positive Behavior Supports to Minimize the Use of Restraint and Seclusion
Carly Hube '21

The use of restraint and seclusion in schools has sparked much debate amongst educational stakeholders. Restraint and seclusion are strategies that can be implemented when students’ behavior poses an imminent danger to themselves or those around them. While restraint and seclusion strategies can be momentarily effective in de-escalating a student’s behavior, when used incorrectly, they can lead to physical or emotional trauma, and in some cases death. Due to the serious consequences that have arisen from the use of restraint and seclusion in schools, many states, including Ohio, have policies and regulations surrounding their usage. However, there is no federal law to date that mandates the regulation of restraint and seclusion in the schools. 

As Emily and I learned more about restraint and seclusion, a topic that continues to arise is how schools are utilizing positive behavior interventions and supports (PBIS) to minimize the use of restraint and seclusion. PBIS is a way for educators to promote good behavior amongst students by teaching them strategies to identify and manage their inappropriate behaviors. The main focus of PBIS is to be preventative and not punitive. Ohio educators and policy makers have also seen the importance of using PBIS to minimize the use of restraint and seclusion; Ohio school districts are required to put PBIS in place. Components that must be included are trained staff that can identify under what conditions inappropriate behavior may occur, preventative assessments, preventative behavioral interventions that teach appropriate behavior, and a system that will encourage students to manage their own behavior by teaching explicit self-managing techniques.

When PBIS is implemented effectively, the likelihood of dangerous behavioral situations with students decreases dramatically. Practices that act proactively and comprehensively maximize instruction time, create a positive school culture, and maintain a safe and respectful educational environment. Maximizing instructional time is an essential component to consider when realizing the consequences of restraint and seclusion because when a student is in a restraint or secluded from their peers, he or she is no longer learning . Educators need to be equipped with strategies to de-escalate and manage behaviors in a non-invasive way. 

My research over the summer helped me to understand the importance of PBIS being utilized in the school system. My next steps will be to see if there is a clear relationship between schools implementing PBIS effectively and their rates of using restraint and seclusion. My work on this project will continue throughout the 2019-2020 academic year.  

To conduct this research, Emily and Carly were recipients of the Graduate/Law Summer Fellows grants from the Human Rights Center. Applications are open for summer 2020; apply here.

Emily Mosca and Carly Hube are graduate students in the School of Psychology looking to graduate in 2021.

Seeking to Restore Human Dignity on US-Mexico Border

I attended a powerful session at the Social Practice of Human Rights Conference on “Human Rights in Central America,” moderated by UD’s Professor of Sociology, Anthropology and Social Work, Miranda Hallett. Drawing on a wealth of knowledge, experts steeped in the complexities of Central American experience of migration discussed this current political moment and the movement needed to address these complex issues. Here are my four key take-aways derived from listening to Mileydi Guilarte from Counterpart El Salvador, Jeanne Rikkers from Cristosal, and Abby Wheatley from Arizona State University.

Mileydi Guilarte from Counterpart El Salvador, Jeanne Rikkers from Cristosal, Abby Wheatley from Arizona State University, and Miranda Hallett from the University of Dayton.

First, the situation along our border is not a national security crisis but instead a humanitarian crisis caused by various U.S. policies and practices, rooted in the political directives taken by both current and past administrations to increasingly militarize the border.  The “Prevention through Deterrence” approach is not new. It is at least a couple decades old and uses death as a way to deter people from crossing the border. The result is a “weaponized desert,” which has left a trail of border deaths counted above 7,000 migrants by authorities to potentially above 10,000 migrants by advocacy organizations accumulating since 1998 to the present. This deterrence policy is further evident through the attempts to penalize humanitarian aid workers who provide water for migrants crossing through increasingly desolate desert regions and by the increase of border patrol checkpoints, which now can be spotted as far as seventy miles away. 

Second, it seems apparent to me that both past and current presidential administrations have concentrated their border enforcement efforts on the detention of migrants recently arriving to seek asylum. This detention policy is being used as secondary deterrence policy. Evidence supporting this includes the expansion of family detention and the administration’s determination to attack the Flores settlement agreement. This agreement has been in place for over two decades and includes provisions which set limits on the length of time children can be incarcerated, requires the government to implement standards relating to the care and treatment of children, and obligates the government to place children in the “least restrictive” environment based on their age and needs. Additionally, within the past year, the Supreme Court determined that immigrants in detention no longer had the right to petition for a bond hearing every six months. Further, the location of detention centers are increasingly far from cities, making it difficult for family members to visit detained migrants or for them to obtain legal counsel. Even more concerning is that policies increasing the criminalization of border crossers are becoming more prevalent, whether through zero tolerance policies or the addition of both federal and misdemeanor charges for entry without authorization or multiple entries.

Third, I was taken by the message that a holistic solution to the humanitarian crisis is required. Rejecting the idea of a simple policy solution to the crisis, the holistic solution needs to take into consideration the historical impact of U.S. intervention in the Central American region, including U.S. exclusion of certain groups of migrants based on race. The reality is that the displacement of Central American migrants is due to various traditional push factors including, but not limited to: chronic violence, corruption, organized crime, lack of economic opportunity, political instability, but also to newer push factors such as global climate change and the growing environmental crisis facing many countries. Examining these push factors in depth will help to create a more holistic solution.

Finally, I was struck by the urgent need to reform our current asylum system, which severely limits the recognition of human suffering for migrants from this region. The interpretation of our understanding of asylum in the U.S. must be widened to include more vulnerable migrants, not further restricted as it has been consistently by adverse Board of Immigration Appeals determinations and administrative restrictions under Attorneys General appointed by President Trump. Furthermore, immigrant advocates and asylum lawyers must fight back against the current asylum system, which is plagued by the perverse demand to erode the complexity of one person’s story into a short narrative that will “win a person’s asylum case.” A reformed asylum system must see each migrant as a full person, a person who has extracted themselves at great peril and with tremendous suffering out of a region entangled in violence. Advocates must work to build comprehensive views of human families caught up in this crisis with a long term aim of helping to build power in immigrant communities. This can be done in part by creating spaces wherein migrants can tell their whole story, seek solace from others who have shared aspects of their journey, and enable themselves to become advocates for long term solutions to this humanitarian crisis. 

In conclusion, I believe that immigration activists, advocates, and attorneys must continue to respond to this issue as the humanitarian crisis that it is. We must focus on challenging the national dialogue surrounding asylum and continue to create spaces where we can share knowledge with the general population surrounding the difficult political, economic, and historical issues driving migration, while understanding the complexity of experience of migrants seeking refuge in the U.S. From these spaces and armed with a new depth of knowledge, new coalitions of immigrants and allies must urgently push forward together to demand solutions that embrace human dignity and include expanded protections for vulnerable populations both in their migratory journey and their legal pursuit of asylum.

Stay tuned! We will be featuring more reflections, photos and videos from SPHR '19.

Technology and Human Rights: Improved Shea Butter Processing for Women in Northern Ghana

I sat engulfed in a cloud of smoke watching a middle-aged Ghanaian woman roast shea over a fire, feeling nauseous from the toxic fumes and secretly eying places that, if it came to it, I could discreetly throw up.  How women and their children tolerate these conditions every day is unimaginable, but I guess that’s part of the reason why we’re here. As a graduate engineering student at the University of Dayton I spent the summer interning for Burro, a Ghana-based company, through the university’s Engineers in Technical Humanitarian Opportunities of Service learning (ETHOS) program. In the Spring of 2018 I received a transdisciplinary Human Rights Center Graduate/Law Summer Grant in support of my proposed ETHOS work mapping the Sustainable Development Goals – discussed in more depth later – to ETHOS student projects.

Starting as a company providing a rechargeable battery service for those without access to electricity, Burro now sells solar products, improved cookstoves, pumps, among other products, all with the goal of providing people with tools to be more productive in their ever day lives. In line with these values, Burro, in collaboration with Burn Design Lab – another ETHOS partner located in Washington state – received a USAID grant to design a commercially viable improved shea nut roaster for shea butter processors in northern Ghana. As part of our initial research on shea roasting we were there interviewing and observing people involved in processing shea butter – all women – about the problems they face with roasting shea.

This led me to my current smoky predicament. I spotted a nice secluded area behind a large water storage tank and, following the 70-minute roast, headed in that direction, away from the burning plastic and smoke. Although I didn’t end up getting sick, it took me several hours away from the fire to fully regain my composure, and while I shamefully stood across the courtyard, my roasting companion emptied the finished batch of shea, reloaded it, and continued her work.

The shea tree, or more accurately the fruit that grows on these trees, is considered “women’s gold” in the shea belt that expands across parts of West Africa. An estimated 16 million women in this expansive region are involved in some part of the shea industry. Of the 600,000 tonnes of shea collected annually, only 10% is processed into handcrafted shea butter while the rest is exported to be used in food or pharmaceutical products. Despite the vast majority of shea being exported, it still seemed like every rural woman living in the areas we visited around Wa and Tamale processed shea butter.

While roasting shea exposes women to smoke and heat, the rest of the process isn’t much better. In turning shea nuts (following the removal of the fruit and outer shell) into shea butter, several labor-intensive steps are required including crushing, roasting, milling, kneading, and boiling. Between each step, women are tasked with physically moving the shea – a feat that includes balancing large pans on their heads, requiring help from others due to its sheer weight. Through hours of painstaking labor in grueling conditions, the women finish each exhausting day sometimes with barely any profit. “Women’s gold” seems like a bit of a euphemism.

While we witnessed women processing shea butter with infants strapped to their backs, it wasn’t uncommon to spot husbands snoozing in the afternoon shade. Although traditionally a woman’s job, we learned that men had taken over some steps of the process where technology had been brought in such as electric powered milling and crushing machines. Instead of women manually milling and crushing shea nuts, men bought the machines to do so and then had women pay to use their machines. This truly shocked the research team and highlighted unforeseen repercussions of technology that can occur if not careful.

We spent four weeks interviewing and observing shea experts in northern Ghana, and every day was a learning experience – an opportunity to really try to understand what women want and to someday deliver a product that can help improve their working conditions and increase their profit. The whole experience opened my eyes to problems I had only read about but never seen firsthand: exploitation, gender-based violence, poverty, and the role of technology in bringing advancement or detriment to these problems.

Around the world, countries are trying to tackle these same big picture issues through global collaboration. The Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) outline the seventeen most pressing issues that the world must address together. In mapping the potential impact of an improved shea nut roaster to the SDGs, we see all the potential for good this technology could bring:

• SDG 1 No Poverty: Helping women make more money at the end of the day by reducing fuel and increasing productivity.
• SDG 3 Good Health and Well-Being: Reducing exposure to smoke, heat and burns.
• SDG 4 Quality Education: Being able to afford school dues.
• SDG 5 Gender Equality: Affording school dues for both girls and boys.
• SDG 7 Affordable and Clean Energy: Opportunities in new shea technology.
• SDG 8 Decent Work and Economic Growth: Improved work conditions and profit.
• SDG 9 Industry, Innovation and Infrastructure: Innovative solutions to difficult problems.
• SDG 10 Reduced Inequalities: Economic empowerment for women leads to overall empowerment.
• SDG 12 Responsible Consumption and Production: Reducing waste and fuel consumption.
• SDG 13 Climate Action: Reduced emissions and fuel consumption.
• SDG 15 Life on Land: Reduced fuel consumptions mean reduced deforestation.

Although just one product addressing one issue seen in one industry, we can start to see the power in humanitarian engineering and the ripple effect across key issues observed today. The ETHOS program and the Human Rights Center, in partnership with community-based organizations such as Burro, represent the collaborative efforts involving sustainability, technology, and human rights. These collaborations are necessary for a better tomorrow – working together to support (17) Partnerships for the Goals.

Founded in 2013, the Human Rights Center expands the University's mission to integrate theoretical and practical approaches to learning and engage others working toward the common good — locally and globally.