The search for a new assistant dean of diversity, equity and inclusion at the University of Minnesota Law School is paused as the University reassesses its DEI programs, according to an email from Dean William McGeveran to Law School students, faculty and staff on Friday.

The University has resources available for students on its Office for Equity and Diversity page, but multiple Minnesota Daily reporters called the office and found the number appears to be disconnected. A University spokesperson said this is just a technical issue.

“This is a disappointing development for many, and I know it brings questions and uncertainty for our community,” McGeveran said in the email. “My commitment to supporting all of our students, faculty, and staff remains unchanged, as does the Law School’s mission of building a legal profession representative of the people it serves.”

McGeveran said all finalist visits for the dean position were canceled, but many programs within the law school will continue.

This pause comes just weeks after President Donald Trump’s executive order banning DEI initiatives in any programs receiving federal funding.

Trump said he would fine schools with diversity programs — which he called discrimination — up to the full amount of their endowment, the Associated Press reported.

The University sent a statement to the Minnesota Daily which reads “Many new executive orders are being issued at the federal level and we continue to monitor these changing federal policies, including last week’s pause, then restart, of federal funding related to diversity, equity and inclusion. We want to assure everyone in our community that we value the activities that support diversity of thought and inclusion, which strengthen our teaching and research. We are not rolling back diversity, equity and inclusion at the University and we are not making any preemptive changes to our existing programs. While focusing on our commitment to our current employees who contribute this important work, we felt it was the responsible decision to pause expanding our current activities until federal policies are further clarified.”

This is a developing story. Check back here for updates. This Story was updated at 5:16 p.m. Saturday, Feb. 1.

Inside an inconspicuous brown house in Arden Hills, Brad Matala has turned his home into a state-of-the-art recording studio. For local rockers Rogue Royal, Matala’s studio offers a space to transfer their on-stage chops to the digital realm.

When you walk in through the side door by the garage, you are first greeted by a room with guitars and other equipment hanging from the walls and a punching bag in the center of the room. One could walk in and think this room is the DIY recording studio, but walking a bit further into the basement reveals where the bulk of the work is done. 

Red rugs line the floor of the two-story addition at the rear of the house, warming up the atmosphere for an array of speakers, amps and recording equipment. A drum kit and piano juxtapose a few couches, the odd potted plant and even a driving net to practice your golf swing. Matala added the 22-foot-tall addition to his home in October 2023, about seven years after he bought his house. He said having a large studio space was a key factor in the purchase. A balcony looms over the studio and leads back into the core of the house. 

The room attached to the balcony is full of computer monitors, lights, speakers and just about any other equipment you could ask for in a recording studio. At one point, there was even the tape machine that recorded part of the Lord of the Rings soundtrack, but Matala sold that so it wouldn’t collect dust next to his newer equipment.

Every Tuesday, Rogue Royal can be found in the studio practicing their songs, huddled around a computer perfecting a recording for a YouTube video or just hanging out.

Clay Deters, the band’s frontman, said musicians need to cater to social media to break out in the modern day. Though he hates being called a content creator, he said Matala has been invaluable in building their online presence. Where the band would stay in the rocker-purist mindset of solely focusing on the music, Matala shepherds them to the necessary detour of self-promotion and content creation.

“Brad’s good about getting us out of our comfort zone and making videos that we wouldn’t make otherwise,” Deters said. “If it were up to us, it would just be guitar videos, just drum videos, you know? Just nerdy music stuff that only nerdy music people like. He’s good about being like, ‘Alright, guys, that’s cool and all, but how do we get the general population to want to like you guys?’” 

Matala described himself as the band’s content creator and “video guy.” Over 100 artists have used Matala’s studio to record or practice, including St. Paul band The Limns and Chris Hawkey (of KFAN’s Power Trip Morning Show) and his aptly named Chris Hawkey Band.

“Brad’s the kind of guy where he always is wanting to try new things and do new things,” Deters said. “The situation we found ourselves in with him is we’ve almost been like guinea pigs for a lot of stuff.”

Rogue Royal started working with Matala in 2017 when they were still called The Issue. Deters started an apprenticeship under Matala at one of his old studios in 2015, but Matala said it was clear that Deters was more interested in being a performer than a producer or an engineer.

“He [Deters] had just dropped out of college and didn’t know what to do,” Matala said. “So I was like, ‘Why don’t you start recording your album and get a band formed?’”

Origins

Deters and bassist Kyle Rutten formed the band in 2015 with their friend Avery Wiese. Deters had recently graduated high school and Rutten was in his senior year when Deters asked if Rutten would be the bassist for his yet-to-be-named band.

“I was like, ‘I’ve never played, but that sounds pretty fun,’” Rutten said.

Deters said he met Rutten playing hockey when he was 4 years old. Rutten taught himself to play the guitar a year before he joined the band, but the bass was a new venture. Their first gig was opening for Wiese’s uncle’s band, and without a name, they performed for one night as the Gitsums.

“Avery, our previous guitar player, his uncle’s band was playing in town, and they said we could play for like 45 minutes, and they literally made a big sign, and they just came up with a name,” Rutten said.

Matala said Deters had a better network of music around him than he let on. For their “Now or Never” music video, Rogue Royal borrowed a car from the owner of the owner of the Next Door Bar in Deters and Rutten’s hometown of Sauk Centre. Everything was going great, the band said, until they accidentally crashed it into one of the other cars they were using for the shoot. Deters said the owner was very understanding, but he set the bent bumper on stage at the bar the next time they performed there. 

The band renamed themselves Rogue Royal in 2023 because the previous name was too similar to other bands. One of these bands was Issues, a metal band from Atlanta that broke up earlier this year.

“The first time I went to Warped Tour was a year after being in the band. Then I saw Issues there, and I was like, ‘What the heck is this s—?’ And I was like, ‘Low key, like f— those guys,’” Rutten said. “Years later, I was like, ‘Actually, damn, those guys slap hard.’”

Not to mention the now-defunct group, Issues, broke up in large part due to accusations of sexual misconduct against their frontman, according to Metal Injection. It’s safe to say our boys in Arden Hills are the superior band.

A changing lineup

The band had two drummers in their early days but landed on their third and final man on the sticks in 2017 with Collin Gibbs.

Gibbs’ bandmates said he was meant to be a rockstar. Until recently, Gibbs said he was rocking a handlebar mustache that went down to his nipples.

Gibbs was introduced to the band while drumming for Cities Never Sleep. Deters knew one of Gibbs’ bandmates through Matala. Rogue Royal (still The Issue at the time) asked Gibbs to record some music with them as they were struggling to find enough time to record with their own drummer. After a night of Deters and Gibbs recording music and drinking whiskey until 3 a.m., Gibbs jumped ship.

“I was doing a lot of things because I was the guy who was in the room,” Gibbs said. “This was more like the music that I wanted to write.”

The band struggled during COVID. They were booked to play South by Southwest before it was canceled, and a few months later Wiese decided to leave the band. 

A couple of people filled in on lead guitar following Wiese’s departure, and eventually, they landed on Collin Johnson as a long-term replacement. With two Collins in the band, Johnson went by CJ and Gibbs went by Riphphque (pronounced RIFF-KEY.)

Enter groupie-turned-guitar-player Monty Philipp, who started hanging around the band at their shows and making friends with the guys before he was brought on as a rhythm guitarist in late 2022.

“We had talked about even just like, potentially adding a fifth member of the band, just adding a rhythm guitar player to the band so I could focus on just singing and having a guy play rhythm guitar parts,” Deters said. “And as we were hanging out with Monty more, we were like, ‘F—, Monty would be the perfect guy to play in the band with us.’”

Not too long after Philipp joined the band, Johnson left to focus on other projects, leaving Philipp to take over as lead guitar.

Philipp grew up in a music family and attended the St. Paul Conservatory for the Performing Arts in high school, but left the school due to failing grades. He said he was acing all of his music classes, but he wasn’t motivated for the other classes.

“So then they nixed me from that school,” Philipp said. “I went back to regular high school and decided that I was going to take the freshmen, sophomore, junior and senior slide and just go home and play guitar every day.”

Philipp said the first band he ever played in was his dad’s band “Chain Lightning,” which he and his older brother joined when he was 15.

For the most part, all of the current members of Rogue Royal (Deters, Rutten, Gibbs and Philipp, if you haven’t been keeping track) have played with each other at one point or another in different bands or side projects before or during their time as Rogue Royal. They even form a country band every summer to play at North Dakota Country Fest called Out of Line consisting of all members of Rogue Royal, plus Deters’ brother Cal.

Rogue Royal and a rush to the throne

While the band is built for the stage, they said it is important that they focus on the content game over the next few months to grow their audience. 

“Put the video up on YouTube. Each song will maybe get a couple thousand views, because, you know, we’re not a big band,” Deters said. “Well, for us to get a couple thousand people to come to a show at the stage where we’re at now, that’s almost impossible.”

A rock band in the time of viral acoustic bedroom sets and hyper-reliance on digital production, Rogue Royal knows their instincts to shred live shows over cultivating a brand online could be a hindrance, but sometimes the call of Rock ‘n’ Roll is too strong.

“We always talk about doing that, and then we fill our calendar full of shows, and we never take time to do that,” Deters said.

Riding on a black and blue bike through Dinkytown, spokes lined with Christmas lights and a large Bluetooth speaker on his back blaring music, Jacob Williams, known by friends as Beetlejuice, heads to Royal Cigar and Tobacco to hang out and listen to music. When not on his bike or blasting tunes, Williams spends his time fixing up other bikes or rebuilding speakers out of spare parts.

Williams, 45, is a prominent member of the homeless community in Dinkytown. At least he was until he moved into the Higher Ground Minneapolis Shelter in 2022. Williams said he was homeless off and on for over 10 years and lived in Dinkytown for about five of those years. 

One of the things people do not understand about homelessness is how close they are to experiencing it, Williams said.

“They’re only one missed rent payment away from being living on the street,” Williams said. 

Stigma and misunderstanding

Riley Molitor, a street outreach worker with Agate Housing and Services, a homelessness advocacy group and shelter, said people experiencing homelessness face unfair judgment.

“The general population doesn’t really get that people are struggling, like day to day, that none of our clients want to be out there,” Molitor said.

Williams said he assumed most people thought he was a scourge because he was homeless and was surprised when people in Dinkytown were happy to see him. He said he always tried to make the places he went better than how he found them by picking up trash — even scavenging some of it — and some people took notice.

Often, the meals he ate while homeless in Dinkytown were better than the ones he eats now, Williams said.

“Some lady, once a month at least, she’d make a nice home-cooked meal and then bring me a big helping of it,” Williams said.

Building Trust

In harsh Minneapolis winters, the battle with homelessness gets far more complex. Housing and outreach remain primary focuses during this time.

Anvis Aryavong, program manager for Agate Housing and Services, said Agate’s main goal is to provide housing solutions for people experiencing homelessness.

Agate received $1.5 million from the Minneapolis City Council in September to renovate housing and keep its Minneapolis facility from closing down, the Minnesota Daily reported.

Molitor and Aryavong were both homeless at one point and said their lived experience helps them understand what the people they work with are going through. He said around half the people working at Agate were homeless at some point.

“I was a homeless youth, and I didn’t know anything about this field, really, until I had my case manager,” Molitor said. “And she made me be like, ‘I want to do what she does.’”

Aryavong said people do not always know the housing resources they have at their disposal.

“I see how much is out there for the folks who are homeless,” Aryavong said. “But when I was out there, I was very transient. I moved around a lot. Although I did stay at an encampment, I didn’t spend all my time there. So, when services would come through, every now and then, I was just not there.”

Aryavong said another barrier to providing services to people experiencing homelessness is trust. He said he tries to remain casual when interacting with people in the field to not seem like he is forcing anything onto anyone.

One of the most important aspects of building trust is proving reliability through consistency, Molitor said.

“A client was like, ‘I want some Danishes.’ And so we went and got her some Danishes, and brought those next week,” Molitor said.

Securing Housing

The most general income assistance a single person with no income can receive in Minnesota is $203 a month, according to the Minnesota Department of Human Services. The average yearly cost of living for a single person aged 19 to 50 in Hennepin County is $36,990, according to the Minnesota Department of Employment and Economic Development.

Soren Steveson, a street outreach worker with Agate Housing and Services, said the gap between general assistance and the cost of housing means anyone without another source of income must go through a long process to find a place to stay.

It can take four to six months to house someone and varies based on Coordinated Entry, which assigns a need value to people applying for housing and pushes those with the highest level of need up the list, according to Molitor. Need is largely based on time spent homeless and medical fragility.

“There’s very, very few other ways for you to get a place to stay,” Steveson said.

Oftentimes, people experiencing homelessness do not look for housing until the weather starts to chill, making it more difficult to find shelter for everyone requesting it, according to Maikao Vue, manager of the Minneapolis Homelessness Response Team.

The Minneapolis Homelessness Response Team spends most of their time in the field connecting with people experiencing homelessness, Vue said. They run into fewer people in the winter because more people seek shelter.

Aryavong said he tries to discuss securing housing with people in the spring before they start scrambling for shelter as the weather turns frigid.

“It’s getting warmer now, and you’re going to get comfortable, but remember, it’s going to get cold again like it does every year,” Aryavong said. “So, let’s get the ball rolling before we have to do this all over again.”

Stevenson said there is a chasm between those who are more casual about securing housing and those who take it more seriously.

“For people that really want housing, we can’t house them fast enough, and for people that want housing less, we house them too quick,” Stevenson said.

When he first became homeless, Williams loved it, he said. However, the freedom he found early on didn’t keep him satisfied forever.

Molitor said most of the people she works with have some form of disability, which hinders their ability to find a job or housing.

“It’s no fault of their own, but having a job isn’t feasible, you know,” Molitor said. “They need services and help and assistance that a lot of people don’t really comprehend if they haven’t been exposed to the world of disability.”

Estimates vary on how many people experiencing homelessness struggle with disability and mental illness, but according to a 2023 report from the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development, 31% of the homeless population are chronically homeless. Chronic homelessness, as defined by the report, refers to anyone with a disability who has been continuously homeless for a year or more or has been homeless for at least four extended periods of time over the last three years totaling 12 months or more.

According to the HUD report, 24% of homeless Minnesotans fall under the category of chronic homelessness.

It is almost impossible to be homeless for an extended period of time without developing some form of disability or long-term injury, according to Molitor.

Life after homelessness

Williams said he sustained life-altering injuries while he was homeless, including a brain injury from being assaulted with a crowbar and frostbite on the soles of his feet. He added he has suffered from seizures since he was a child, but the head injury and his resulting hypoglycemia diagnosis worsened them.

Williams said he can no longer do a lot of the things he used to because of his injuries. He said he spent some time as a tattoo apprentice in Chicago when he was 18, but he can no longer draw as well as he used to. He used to compete in BMX competitions, but after his head injury, he can barely turn 180 degrees while standing without falling over.

He even considered getting into stand-up comedy at one point, but now he struggles to remember words, though he did not stop telling jokes.

“Humor is, like, beyond the most important thing in my life,” Williams said. “That’s what keeps me going.”

In fact, he still bikes, though not as intensely as he used to, and though he does not draw much anymore, he still has his work fixing up old bikes and crafting speakers.

Despite the injuries and his struggles while homeless, Williams said he is still grateful for where he is in life.

“I thank God for letting me see another moment,” Williams said. “I did it religiously for the first couple years after my head injury, like every time my eyes would close, I’d be like, ‘Thank you, God.’”

After holding Tyler Church’s backpack for almost 48 hours, UMPD returned his belongings around 4:30 p.m. Wednesday.

Church was covering the Morrill Hall occupation when officers entered the building through the basement tunnels with their weapons drawn. Officers briefly detained Church and confiscated his backpack, which contained his laptop, schoolwork and reporting notes. They held onto his belongings for two days, changing their classification multiple times.

Church and the two other Daily reporters present were wearing vests with “PRESS” printed on the front and back in large, bold letters.

A statement from the University Department of Public Safety on their website read “In chaotic circumstances with many unknowns such as those experienced by officers in Morrill Hall on Monday, officers must sometimes temporarily detain those they encounter to ensure everyone’s safety before they are able to fully identify those involved.”

After being released from handcuffs, Church, two other Daily reporters and a reporter from the Minnesota Star Tribune were told to wait in the basement of Morrill Hall by police for around three hours before eventually being released through the GopherWay tunnels.

Officers on the scene told Church to go to the UMPD public safety office when it opened Tuesday morning, but it was closed. Church was unable to get in contact with anyone from the department about his belongings until after noon on Tuesday.

Officer Josh Betts told Church that his belongings were being held in “safe keeping” until UMPD came out of lockdown. No timetable was given for when this lockdown would end. Church was told his belongings were not considered evidence on Tuesday.

Early Wednesday morning, however, Betts emailed Church telling him his backpack and its contents were being moved into evidence and he would not get them back until after the arrested protesters went to trial. Hours later, Betts contacted Church again saying his belongings were no longer in evidence and he could retrieve them.

After much back-and-forth and reclassification and declassification, all of Church’s belongings have been returned to him, and he can continue his school and journalistic work.

University of Minnesota Police officers briefly detained Minnesota Daily reporter Tyler Church around 5:45 p.m. on Monday. 

Church was covering the Morrill Hall occupation when officers entered the building through the basement tunnels with their weapons drawn. Officers confiscated Church’s backpack, which contains his laptop, schoolwork and reporting notes.

After being released from handcuffs, Church, two other Daily reporters and a reporter from the Minnesota Star Tribune were told to wait in the basement of Morrill Hall by police for three hours before eventually being released through the GopherWay tunnels.

As of 5:45 p.m. Tuesday, 24 hours after his original detainment, Church’s belongings have yet to be returned to him.

Church and the two other Daily reporters present were wearing vests with “PRESS” printed on the front and back in large, bold letters.

Officers on the scene told Church to go to the UMPD public safety office when it opened Tuesday morning, but it was closed. Church was unable to get in contact with anyone from the department about his belongings until after noon on Tuesday.

Officer Josh Betts told Church that his belongings were being held in “safe keeping” until UMPD comes out of lockdown. There was no timetable given for when this lockdown would end.

This is a developing story. Check back for updates.

Minneapolis Police Chief Brian O’Hara held a press conference Friday, releasing bodycam footage from the May 30 shooting that left officer Jamal Mitchell and three others, including the shooter, dead and the police shooting of an armed man on June 12.

As of Friday, both shootings are still under criminal investigation by the Bureau of Criminal Apprehension.

Officers Luke Kittock and Nicholas Kapinos were identified in the video as having used deadly force in the May 30 shooting. The second video identified officers Chaz Wilson, Enoch Langford and Abdiurizaq Mumin in the June 12 shooting.

Officers involved in the June 12 shooting ordered the man, Michael Warren Ristow, to drop his weapon. When he did not, the three officers fired several shots, hitting Ristow and dropping him to the ground. Ristow died in the hospital.

In both shootings, the recovered firearms jammed, according to O’Hara. The gun used in the May 30 shooting jammed after it was used to shoot Mitchell and two others.

O’Hara said he believed the actions taken by the police officers in both incidents were responsible, necessary and courageous, and he is thankful for the level of training exhibited by the officers involved in these shootings. He added that the increase in firearms on the street since June 2020 has put the Minneapolis community in danger.

O’Hara said MPD has taken over 1000 illegal firearms off the street each of the last two years, and there have been reports of up to two dozen stolen firearms a week in Minneapolis.

Under Minnesota law, bodycam footage from fatal police shootings must be released within 14 days of the incident, according to O’Hara. The BCA requested footage from the May 30 incident be withheld, as releasing the footage earlier may have hindered their investigation, O’Hara added.

O’Hara said the footage from the June 12 shooting was released alongside the May 30 footage to ensure the footage was released as quickly as possible.

“My approach has been, and will always be, to make these videos available as soon as we possibly can, as fast as is appropriate,” O’Hara said.

O’Hara said people often fail to understand the complexities of armed shooter situations, and people rarely hear about incidents with armed suspects that do not end fatally.

“The officers have to act as quickly as possible and make decisions as quickly as possible,” O’Hara said. “We’ve seen in episodes around the country where officers have not done that in active shooter situations and there’s been very deadly consequences and the officers are called cowards after the fact.”

Editor’s Note: This is a work of satire. Nothing in this column is intended to be taken seriously. We do not condone the recreational abuse of CO2 canisters.

Finally, this semester has drawn to a close. I’ve had a complete loss of classroom attention these last few weeks. Maybe even months.

Not because of the burnout associated with taking five classes and working three jobs (poorly, I might add). Nor is it the bipolar weather conditions that seem to take pleasure in lulling me into a sense of security before violating my most basic trust in what to expect when I walk out the door in the morning.

No, my attention is on the summer ahead of us and the stars above.

The existence of extraterrestrial life has been kicked about for a while now, culminating in three veterans testifying before Congress that the U.S. government possessed alien materials — biological and mechanical.

This hearing was little more than hearsay, but a daydreamer like me couldn’t help but be swept up in some of the possibilities. So, I got to work.

What started as a roll of tin foil and a ham radio set became my beacon to the heavens. My very own Voyager. What no one tells you in woodshop class when you’re making CO2 cars is that the very canister you insert in the wooden rectum of your vehicle is precisely what you need to connect to the universe past the confines of our measly solar system.

When enough CO2 is ingested, it opens up pathways in your brain to communicate with the other inhabitants of our universe unburdened by shallow human skepticism. And I don’t mean some hippie s— about connecting to the universe or whatever, but actually understanding their language.

Oh, right, attribution. I think one of the gods told me that as I lay dying at the Battle of the Bulge in a previous life. I wasn’t fighting in it, just happened to walk by.

Liberals will try to tell you that greedy corporations are taking advantage of our planet and its resources for profit and that the government sticks to imposing restrictions on individuals to appease the public and allow the fat cats to pad their pockets and pollute the planet.

But they would be wrong.

These corporations aren’t destroying our planet simply to add another zero to their bank account. No, they are teaching us to communicate with extraterrestrial beings through excessive release of greenhouse gasses.

But yeah, they are just doing that so by the time the aliens get here we are engulfed in smog and can understand their language to the best of our abilities before being shipped out to interstellar labor camps, according to a nightmare I had recently. Ditto, I guess.

While our government may continue to pretend we don’t know the truth, they made one fatal mistake: they forgot antitrust laws exist.

There is no monopoly on extraterrestrial communication and CO2 canisters are readily available. Seriously, walk down any street in Dinkytown and you’ll find about seven on the ground. I once lived in shame of my beliefs, but once I started seeing all of the expended canisters strewn about the place we call home, I knew I’d found a school of like-minded (space-minded) individuals.

What I was shocked to learn is that, while many of us are taking the correct first step to learn the language of the aliens through CO2 ingestion, they aren’t doing the extra step to make contact. I don’t know why so many of you are huffing CO2 without a contact plan. On the other hand, you might as well stay ready. Our friends could be here any minute!

We’ve gotten a bit off-topic here. Back to my personal Voyager.

I spent my entire spring semester sending signals out, beckoning visitors to visit me at the Stadium Village light-rail station behind The Minnesota Daily’s office, but they never came. I thought they did a few times, but then I remembered I was just at a light-rail station.

Laugh all you want, but those lights always throw me into a panic. Like I’m in a scene from “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” or something.

I thought I was a complete failure. I even started to wonder if wrapping my body in tin foil, huffing CO2 and reading take-out menus into a ham radio I installed on the roof of my apartment building was a moronic waste of time.

Until the dreams came.

I alluded to one earlier, but I began to experience post-snooze communications from beyond our galaxy. The first few were just a series of loud screeches and visions of unimaginable horrors, probably some prepubescent alien who doesn’t know any better taking their turn to pick on the Terrestrials. But it wasn’t long before they began to make sense.

The dreams told me that this is the summer of the saucer. The May of meteorites. The June of Jupiter. The July of, well, Jupiter again.

If you aren’t understanding my playful metaphors, it’s space travel summer!

They told me that this was the summer when we would make contact. But as quickly as they came to me alone in bed that night, they left me, a new burden on my mind and chest.

I reached out to the aliens via ham radio and by taking seven melatonin gummies before going to sleep, but they did not respond to a request for comment.

I know the end of the semester can be stressful. If your classes got you down, your internship fell through or you simply have nothing better to do, don’t worry. The universe has only one expectation for you this summer: huff some CO2 and wait for the jump to ludicrous speed.

Few topics are more contentious than safety and security at the University of Minnesota. In the heart of a city that is only a few years removed from the murder of George Floyd and videos of violence in Dinkytown always being a favorite topic of our mothers at the dinner table, the ire of suburbanites is drawn to the city known colloquially as “Murderapolis.”

With that in mind: what do the people who actually live here think?

In a reader survey, 34 subscribers to the Minnesota Daily newsletter ranked their satisfaction with the University’s approach to campus safety on a scale from zero to four. Results indicated 5.9% of respondents (two) ranked the University’s approach a zero, while 23.5% (8), 26.5% (9), 26.5% (9) and 17.7% (6) ranked the University’s approach a 1, 2, 3 and 4, respectively.

The mean score from the respondents was 2.5, implying the average respondent felt lukewarm about safety at the University.

We witnessed some disparity between the responses of students and staff with the average response of students being 2.05 and the average response of staff being 2.57. In fact, the two lowest scores (zero) were both from students. While both staff and student averages come in above the mean (two), why do staff feel significantly more satisfied with campus safety than students?

Among the students who ranked the University the lowest, the primary factor listed was a dissonance between the aims of campus safety and the actual actions taken. 

“The U of M’s approach to ‘campus safety’ seems to be more about dishing out parking tickets in Dinkytown than protecting people,” said graduate student Emma Worthley.

Another criticism was whether the University was approaching campus safety from the perspective of serving students and staff or the parents paying tuition. 

“Wasting money on turnstiles(pio) and more University of Minnesota Police Department (UMPD) isn’t really changing,” said Joey VanDeurzen, a fourth-year computer science major, referring to Pioneer Hal. “They need actual community engagement, not just biannual free donuts/coffee, so they can come up with a plan that engages the people that live, study and work on campus. Pleasing Facebook parents and suburban/rural legislators isn’t getting us anywhere.”

University Finance Operations Associate Kristie Mandel disagreed with this sentiment, citing “really quick response times and active threat training” as two functions of campus safety that go under-appreciated.

There is no question some parents out there harbor fears about sending their children off to scary Minneapolis schools. I have personally heard Dinkytown specifically referred to as a “lawless cesspool” many times from people after I tell them about my college of choice. Well, maybe not that specific, but they would have agreed with the sentiment at the very least.

But if the University is just so dangerous, why wasn’t the average score far lower? Surely a lawless, cesspool-esque hellscape such as ours would warrant far greater anger from its occupants, right?

First of all, I should admit that everyone who ranked the University anything below a 3 — roughly 56% of respondents — were either neutral to or directly critical of campus safety, a majority of whom represented the latter. This is to say: it certainly isn’t all sunshine and rainbows here.

Some students, of course, do view campus safety in a very positive light. Civil engineering fourth-year student Ian Mcphee gave the University the highest possible rating, his only note being that he wished “the portable lights in Dinkytown were powered by solar instead of gas generators.”

But, considering a majority of respondents were at least somewhat wary of campus safety, is the answer increasing police presence? Shannon Lee, a third-year communications major seems to think so, advocating for UMPD to more consistently have officers patrolling “24/7.” Tammy Hendrickson, an administrative consultant at the University, agreed, who said she was unaware of any answer other than to “increase security and enforcement.”

Obviously, others disagree.

“10,000 cops don’t make me feel safer,” said Pearl Elliott, a fourth-year environmental sciences, policy and management major. “Instead, it feels like there is a constant threat.”

The interesting thing about the question of increasing police presence on campus is that people who rank the University very low in terms of satisfaction had wildly different answers to this question. Elliott made it clear she did not believe that an increase in policing was the answer, arguing instead for “prevention through community building.”

On the other hand, graduate student Katelyn Stevens believes we should “support our officers and hire more officers.”

You may be thinking this issue has become muddy and unclear about what the right move for the University is going forward, and there seems to be a lot of dissonance even just among the 34 people surveyed. And you would be half right.

I propose a simple solution: make everyone a police officer. That way we have community-based policing, but we also have an increased police presence. Some may argue that if we are all cops, then no one is. 

This is the only way to both increase and decrease police presence, so why not? Everybody, I solved crime!

Editor’s Note: The poll was completed with the help of the whole opinions desk.

In a survey of our readers, 41 respondents weighed in on the value of Greek life. Of the respondents, 65.9% (27) decided it was not valuable, with 22% (9) deciding it was and the remaining five respondents clocking in as unsure. 

These results are unsurprising considering Greek life only accounts for about 3,000 students at a school that had 54,955 enrolled in 2022–23. If there was a more widespread belief that Greek life was worth the cost, there would probably be more people participating in it. A shocking revelation, I know.

But why is it that such a large number of our respondents don’t believe in living the good old-fashioned Greek life?

Respondents, like Regina Dehnert, cited the superficiality of these social groups as a large deterring factor. 

“You pay money to be part of the drinking and partying culture that only leaves you feeling more empty, like you need to become someone who you know you aren’t,” Dehnert said.

Speaking of superficiality, what exactly is it that you’re paying for? Some argue that it’s nothing you can’t get for free.

“What are the things that are done there that someone can’t do for free? Make friends? Support disadvantaged communities? Go to parties? None of that warrants paying such money,” said respondent Seyram Agudu.

Many cited the complicated history of diversity and inclusivity within Greek life. 

“Greek life is expensive to participate in and comes with a culture historically filled with racism, violence, and classism,” said respondent Jo Meloy. 

Respondent Peter Moriarty went as far as to label it as having a “clique-y/daddy’s money vibe,” while respondent Mahlon Collins simply referred to it as a “net negative to the University.”

So it is clear a large portion of our student body holds a distinct ire towards Greek life, but what about those who have found a diamond in the beer-soaked rough of a frat house basement?

“I am personally [part] of Greek life and it is one of the best decisions I made,” said respondent Kate Kalis, who would go on to list some of the many benefits of Greek life including affordable housing, leadership opportunities and all the benefits of listing Greek life membership on your resume.

Others cited the importance of finding community on a campus as large as ours. 

“Greek Life — without the antiquated harassment — is a way for students from all parts of the state or country or first-generation students to connect as a community within a huge campus, build friendships, learn the ins and outs of UMN life, find academic support and mentoring, and become involved as a team in charity or community work,” said respondent Kathy Henderson.

There is no question that Greek life can do a lot for one’s social standing and integration into the collegiate rite of passage that is the party lifestyle, but how do they fare in promoting academics?

Respondent Cassandra Riddle, who also voted unsure, credited her sorority sisters with getting her on the right track academically, said, “My sisters were the only reason I graduated college.” 

Riddle also mentioned the sense of community and philanthropy she took part in left her proud of her time in a sorority.

It is widely agreed Greek life is an imperfect system that isn’t for everyone. Usually, that would be okay, but when an organization isn’t right for people because they feel unwelcome or unsafe due to their race or gender, it’s not hard to imagine why many people view it all so unfavorably.

There are certainly upsides to Greek life with fun and growth to be had, but if the personal growth touted by many alumni of Greek life isn’t reflected within the institution itself, public opinion will continue to be poor.

I’m sure by now you have heard rumblings of the TikTok ban that is currently floating around Congress. TikTok, the most popular app in the world over the last few years, has come under a lot of scrutiny for its potential to sell user data and manipulate users.

Considering recent events, Congress should probably be more concerned about Discord when it comes to information leaks, but I digress.

During their questioning of TikTok CEO Shou Zi Chew, Congress made their technological ignorance readily apparent. There are plenty of clips online that you can find if you want to feel true disgust for those we’ve elected to run our country.

Rep. Buddy Carter (R-Georgia), for example, claimed during the hearing that TikTok measures users’ pupil dilation. He was also unable to comprehend that face filters need to match up with users’ eyes in order to function.

This was a fair critique from Carter, as we all know the best way to gauge user engagement isn’t quantifiable metrics like comments, likes or watch time. Instead, obviously, the best way is constant video analysis of pupil dilation.

Those of us with brown eyes are truly lucky, as we can escape this invasive eye examination.

Rep. Cathy Rodgers (R-Washington) raised an interesting point about the potential to restrict speech on the app, questioning Chew on whether the app restricted the spread of information on the Uyghur genocide and the Tiananmen Square massacre.

A valid point, until you search for either issue on TikTok and find there is plenty of content on the app covering both, most of which is very critical of the Chinese government.

This is not to say TikTok is a platform of perfect free speech. There have been plenty of reports concerning TikTok’s propensity to restrict content critical of China. One such case was in 2019 during protests in Hong Kong. TikToks about these protests seemed to be censored.

So, what does Congress plan to do about these perceived transgressions? Their answer is the Restrict Act, which would function as their go-ahead to ban apps like TikTok.

The Restrict Act would “authorize the Secretary of Commerce to review and prohibit certain transactions between persons in the United States and foreign adversaries, and for other purposes.”

Who are these foreign adversaries? Anyone the Secretary of Commerce, with consultation from “the proper executive department and agency heads,” deems to have a history of behavior in conflict with U.S. national security.

This list already includes China, Iran, Russia and several others. These restrictions will effectively function as technological trade bans.

The Secretary of Commerce would also have the ability to take any desired measure to address “any risk arising from any covered transaction by any person, or with respect to any property, subject to the jurisdiction of the United States,” that posed any undue risk to the U.S.

This undue risk applies to subverting elections and infrastructure, any illegal activity meant to undermine democracy or anything else deemed threatening to the U.S. and its people.

So, the Secretary of Commerce could mark countries as foreign adversaries in a weird cyber Cold War and could take basically any action necessary to deter potential threats to the U.S., including the actions of our citizens.

The Restrict Act doesn’t stop at mobile apps, by the way. It extends to almost any electronic device or software you can think of, including webcams.

So, what needs to happen in order for a citizen to have their most basic privacies stripped from them? Well, whatever the Secretary of Commerce wants.

These undue threats can be defined by any “source of information that the Secretary determines appropriate.” So, the Secretary of Commerce can do essentially whatever they choose to deal with threats determined by them through whatever source they choose.

I don’t know about you, but this is starting to remind me of the Patriot Act, which was actually cited within the Restrict Act in reference to the term “critical infrastructure,” funnily enough.

In the wake of 9/11, the Patriot Act was formed as a measure to protect the U.S. and its citizens from terrorist attacks on our aforementioned critical infrastructure.

That all sounds nice and good, except for the part where it was used as a way to unconstitutionally surveil countless American citizens and clandestinely collect information on millions of phone calls.

The Restrict Act would give our government the ability to violate our privacies in the name of fighting whatever they deem to be an unacceptable risk. This vagueness in what constitutes such a risk leaves room for the exact kind of surveillance perpetrated under the Patriot Act.

We know that user data is being collected somewhat shadily by TikTok, but the Restrict Act will only serve to enact the same types of control that Rep. Rodgers had alluded to earlier, yet by our government onto its own people.

If we take the Restrict Act at face value and assume nothing will happen to infringe upon the privacy of the average American, we are setting ourselves up to once again be betrayed by our government.

The NSA had no problem abusing the Patriot Act to monitor civilians at an alarming rate. Given the go-ahead from the Secretary of Commerce, what stops them from monitoring every email, Zoom call, DM or post you’ve ever made, sent or received?

Don’t be tricked into thinking a TikTok ban is what’s best for the American people. This act won’t free us from surveillance and misinformation, it will simply change who’s surveilling us and to what extent.