I'm with the Pasco County Sheriff's Office and today I want to bring to mind walking around your house with the eyes of a burglar And what we mean by that is walk around and see what what or where you might be vulnerable When you walk through you're gonna make sure that your windows are always shut and locked You're gonna want to make sure that obviously that your doors are locked You have sliding glass doors be mindful of your sliding glass doors There's there's items out there at Lowe's Home Depot that you can actually affix to your doors to help keep them more secure you can put poles or Room stick handles down at the bottom so they're not jimmied open easily One of one of our big things is lighting lighting is helpful if you have lighting at nighttime or motion sensors Lighting is a good deterrent. It usually keeps the bat away not always, but it's a step in the right direction With your windows, you know, as we know people can break windows and maybe gain access into your house think about shrubbery think about Going to Lowe's or Home Depot or any of your nurseries and asking what type of shrubbery is is Aesthetically pleasing to the eye, but yet functional as a crime prevention example Authority bush or a rose bush or something that that's gonna hurt or be discomfort to the bad person yet serve the purpose of beauty in the yard


On the topic of corn, does anybody out there have really good recommendations of sites that feature like real couples? I'm making a a bible, if it were, of respectful places to find erotica. Okay guys, respectful corn with a P is an oxymoron. I'm telling you watching S-E-X is not good for your soul. Why? Because God created us to have that specific pleasure in the confines of marriage with one man and one woman. When we take it outside that context, we're distorting God's good and right picture of sexuality. It's like we're the peeping tom going from one bedroom window to another convincing ourselves that at least it's not as bad as participating in the act. While the world is consumed with outward appearances, God's concerned with what's going on inside of us. We've all looked with lust, we've all sinned sexually and because of that we're deserving of God's wrath. But Jesus came to make a way that we could be forgiven by taking our penalty on himself. That in him we would find forgiveness, redemption and freedom from sexual sin.


To congratulate her and to thank her for all her gifts and more importantly for her own perseverance and the development of her skills and to commit to her the support of the government of Saint Vincent and the Grenadines to the Olympics in the first case, which is in August in Paris. Well, since her appearance on last Thursday's Sportsmax Zone, where she detailed her financial struggles in preparing for the Paris Olympic Games, Chaviqua Maloney has been receiving the much needed support. In last week's interview, Maloney, the Saint Vincent and the Grenadines national 800 meters record holder, was almost brought to tears in expressing her current state of affairs. Being a professional athlete is not easy. I don't think a lot of people realize how much goes into being a professional athlete, especially in the US. I'm from the Caribbean.  You know, can I get some food or every case is when you're up here. Most of the time you're on your own from coaching feet. Like I have not paid my coach and three years or so. And you know, this is America. If folks don't get paid, they don't, they're not going to work, you know. And so, you know, a lot of kudos to my coach for sticking with me despite everything. And, you know, he's not in it for the money. You know, he saw the talent and what I am capable of.  Because I would like to pay my coach. Like he sacrifices a lot. You know, I don't have to pay to use the track or the weight room. I haven't paid my weight coach either. And so, you know, for both of them to still work with me despite all that. And to the university orchestra that still, you know, allows me to be around and use their facilities. You got to get massage therapies, supplements, chiropractor, food, living situation. I've been homeless for like a couple months. Yeah, I've been, especially last year, I was bouncing around from home to home right now. I was living like a dorm situation. So I'm happy for these people who allow me to stay here right now. But it's been hard. And, you know, I've had to put my trust in God. I really had to put my trust in God because when I started out this last year, knowing that I wasn't going to be able to work, I don't know what my financial situation was going to look like. One thing I knew, though, that I was going to put in the work. And after a while, I realized that's the only thing I had control of. And so when I came to practice, I worked, I worked so hard. Sometimes I couldn't even walk off the track sometimes.  And I made those sacrifices, but I also had to make sure those sacrifices didn't, you know, just be in vain. And so I had to do the work when I got to the track and I did that. Prime Minister Dr. Ralph Gonzalez has since pledged his government support for Maloney in a cabinet presentation. All I want to know is that in going forward between now and the Olympics, we have to take care of this young lady and see that she gets what is reasonably required. She told me a number which I wouldn't reveal between now and August. I told her to send me a detail. And in relation to the visa, which I know about and some people who are trying, but, you know, the U.S. visa authorities are problematic. Told her to send me all what has happened to Tassif at a particular level. There's a new person, there's a new ambassador who may be able to make some representation and talk in American ambassador. But she's waiting on certain words and we'll see how that goes. Last night, I called Camillo, who is in St. Kitts, who attended the OECS meeting, a meeting with the IMF, OECS heads meeting the IMF and also today there is a Eastern Caribbean Central Bank meeting. So I wanted to get from Camillo a report on those meetings. And while he was reporting to me, he said, you would expect a call from Jomo Kato from ECGC who had called him to say to him that ECGC wants to be engaged possibly in a sponsorship with Shafiqa. So I called him this morning and asked him to send for me what is, what they have in mind. Well, gentlemen, some much-deserved support coming for Shafiqa. Are you surprised at the attention this interview has garnered? Who do I go with first? Y'all decide. Well, I can't say we're surprised because we did suggest on Friday that, well, it was pretty clear to me that if Ralph Gonzales heard about this, which there was no way he could have missed it because it was live on Sportsmax and whether he saw it live or not, I know he watches the show from time to time. He would act and his response to me is predictable because he's a very proud prime minister of St. Vincent and the Grenadines and the story presented by Shafiqa didn't look good for the country. And I don't think it is at all surprising that prime minister Gonzales has come out in the way that he has. We didn't present all of what he said at cabinet, but he did address the issue that he has known about her for 13 years now. And there was a proposal to him from many years ago to the authorities for some help for her. He didn't go into details. There are points in the presentation that prime minister Gonzales said he wouldn't want to go into some of the issues that surrounded her problems over the past 10 years or so, but suffice it to say that he was willing to look past it. Damage control is what he's dealing with now and he wants to make sure that her immediate future looks a lot brighter than the past two or three years has. Yes. So two things for me, Lance and Mariah, that I think I have to commend the government of St. Vincent and the Grenadines and the prime minister Ralph Gonzales. One, the quick response. This interview was done last week, Thursday. The response came on Friday at cabinet. That for me is extremely important because one, the entire issue is time sensitive. Like every day matters in a situation like this because especially as it relates to the visa issue. And I said at the top of the show, my hope and I know it would be a miraculous one at this stage is that the visa issue would be sorted out for her to make it to the world indoor championships as much as I understand that is unlikely to happen. So I really do have to commend the quick response. What it says to me is that as soon as the prime minister heard of or watched the interview that we did with Shefika, he went into action mode. Yes. And for me, that says a lot. And I think that's a big man move. That's big leadership move. So I have to give a lot of credit to Ralph Gonzales as prime minister of Saint Vincent and the Grenadines and the second thing because in watching prime minister Gonzales presentation, it became apparent to me that there is history. But I have to commend prime minister Gonzales for not going into too much of whatever that history is. I don't know what it is, but clearly there is. But to look ahead and to say, listen, it doesn't matter what has happened in the last 10 years, what is important now is that we have an Olympic prospect, an athlete who has the potential to be in the Olympic final, an athlete who has the potential to maybe even win an Olympic medal. And so from that standpoint, the important thing now is that we put everything in place to ensure and I love the fact that he says reasonably possible because everything has to be within reason. No, it's not just, I think because he's a politician, I think that's also important for everyone to understand that yes, support is needed, but support also has to be within reason. And even Shafika herself and her own management team cannot expect that all the assistants will come from the government of Saint Vincent and the Grenadines and that there are some other avenues that they will have to explore in getting the full support that they require to get to the Olympic game. So I thought it was important that he mentioned within reason but extremely important from my standpoint that the focus now is getting her the help that she needs to prepare for the Olympic games. Yeah, and it's important that that point is made, Ricardo and Mariah, because as you mentioned, Ricardo, there is history here. Shafika Maloney is not new to Prime Minister Gonzales. He did mention in his cabinet presentation that he, her ability was brought to his attention many years ago by Mike Olivier, who the Calypsoanians would know as Lord of Mercy. That's his Calypsoanian name. And of course, he's also the father of the reggae star, Protégé. Some of our viewers may know that Mike Olivier, Protégé's son, and he has a musical background, but he's a solid coach who had been based in Jamaica for several years. And he was the one that had tried to propel Shafika's talent in her mid-teens. And it's obvious that because Prime Minister Gonzales knew of her growth from many years ago, he feels responsible now having seen what has happened in the past couple of years to address it as assertively as he can, and which is what he has done from the cabinet perspective. And to expand on the point that Ricardo was making earlier on, or earlier on last week when we were discussing this, St. Vincent and the Grenadines has not produced prolifically outstanding international athletes. We can think of Ezra Combs, Natasha Meyers, Kenyka Alexander, Paminus Ballentine, the outstanding marathon runner, who had made names for themselves internationally. So Shafika Maloney is now the latest in that list. And there aren't many who have come out of St. Vincent and the Grenadines over the years. So this is a special talent that the country has to propel and boost and support and give a platform so that she can acquire the help needed to give her best at the international level because she has a talent. There's no question about it. Right. And when Ricardo made that point to Shafika, she did mention the 800-meter runner. She spoke about Robon. Yeah, and Robon. And I also think, and y'all can correct me, Prime Minister Ralph Gonzalez had mentioned that athlete as well. And I think he also may be benefiting from this because I think because this has reached this level of public scrutiny, everybody finding out that one of St. Vincent and the Grenadines top athlete who, I mean, making an Olympics is not a baby feat. It's a big, big deal. And to represent your country at that level is a big deal. And of course, just at the quality of this athlete, I think it will trickle down because any other athlete that is of the same caliber like Shafika or close enough will get the attention now of the sporting bodies and the ministry in St. Vincent and the Grenadines. Yeah. I also believe that there is a bigger conversation or a wider conversation that has to take place. And it is not just for St. Vincent and the Grenadines, but it is for a number of nations right across the Caribbean. And it is how you give assistance to your athletes and not just track and field athletes, but across several sports. And I think what has happened over time, and I know, for example, even in Jamaica, the issue exists. Even within track and field, a hugely successful sport in Jamaica. And we had a situation, whether late last year or early this year, where I think it was the hammer throw who came out saying that she was not getting any support and whatever the case might be. The bigger issue here for me is that on the part of the athletes, there is a lack of understanding of how they get support from one the government or their sporting organizations. And I think it is time that these sporting organizations or government entities make it abundantly clear to the athletes what they have to do to first of all qualify for support, what level of support they qualify for. And I think once we do that, and these things are made official, then we will not have a lot of the issues that we see from time to time where athletes come out and they are crying for help. And a large part of the reason for that is they don't know. Yeah, they're not aware. And I think making it aware is number one. Like many of them don't even know what help is accessible to them. And that's part of the problem. And if help is accessible. So let me, for example, use a Jamaican example. The Jamaica Athletics Administrative Association will say they have said from time to time, we support athletes all the time. And I don't doubt that that is a fact. But do the athletes know how they qualify for support? Can I go on the website of the Jamaican Athletics Administrative Association or any other entity across the Caribbean? And I can see the criteria for qualification to get financial assistance. If that does not exist, then it leads me to wonder, okay, is this a friend thing? Because otherwise for me Lansomari, it does not make any sense. And I think it is the conversation that St. Vincent and the Grenadines must start having now. How do we formalize an assistance program for our sportsmen and women? You have Shafiqa Maloney now. You spoke about Handel Roban. There is Amal Glasgow, who is 19 years old. He's a tremendous talent training at Kingston College here in Jamaica. He's coming through the system. We've seen other St. Vincent and the Grenadines athletes in recent years have success in the Jamaican high school system. And I suspect a lot more of them will and a lot more of them in future will require assistance. They need to know how they can tap into the support of either the government or their sporting associations. And to take that just a step further, another discussion we have to have is the issue of, you see the Caribbean because of our economic situation is hamstrung by our infrastructure. But that doesn't stop the Caribbean from formalizing whatever assistance they do give. I'm not saying no to that but I'm going to the bigger picture now about what is actually available. Because in bigger countries where there is a lot more investment financially in sport and developing athletes, there isn't as big a problem. I say that the Caribbean has done tremendously well in producing world-class athletes given the financial investment because invariably what happens is government steps in when the athletes begin to have success. And corporate as well. That's the only time athletes get success. And they actually need the help before that, where there are the embryonic stages of development. In the Tokyo Olympics, Shafiqa represented St. Vincent and the Grenadines. She was the only track and field athlete. There were two swimmers there. So SVG were represented by three athletes at the Tokyo Olympics. And Shafiqa was the only track and field athlete. She carried the flag, I think she did. And that is already reaching to the top flight, getting to the Olympic Games. But I think there is a complaint among Caribbean athletes all the time that government, private sector and people who can help appear when they start having success and the help needs to start happening before that. And I understand that. That is normal, right? Because no corporate... I'm not saying it's not normal, but it's... No, but okay, Lance, just think about it. Corporate sponsors will support an athlete when they're doing well because you want to put your brand on a big athlete. I guess that. But I think we go back to the point that Eureka was making, where just a system, a startup, a reasonable startup for athletes that are just beginning their career or on the track of like making the Olympics. So there's that something like a stipend. So they don't feel as if they're alone because at the end of the day, you're doing this for your country. It's not a personal venture.  So it still goes back to the fact that you have this to fall back on. Yeah. And you have to formalize it. So if I'm an 18-year-old athlete and I've made a national junior team, is there assistance for me at that level? If there isn't and the assistance only comes when I've made an Olympic qualifying standard, then make that very clear. So I know when and where I can tap into whatever assistance is available. And I don't have to seem or make it seem as if I have to be begging for that assistance. I don't think any athlete wants to come on national or international television. It's actually a last resort. I am homeless. I am struggling. I have no money. I can't eat. No athlete wants to do that. Don't let them have to do it. Yeah. For me, I will always say that has to be a last resort. And that interview for Shafiqa must have been very, very painful. She also launched a GoFundMe account last year to assist her in continuing her pursuit to become a professional athlete after her student visa in the USA had expired. Her goal was to raise $45,000 and it is just over $15,000 with donations coming since her Sports Max zone interview. So that made me smile. Happy to see that. Of course, she got some assistance. $15,000 is some help. And building. Yes. I think it's building. Yeah. It's building. But you know what bothers me is the fact that we even had to get to this point. Like I wish it didn't reach this point. Yeah. But also I think that's part of the reason we are here as media and we have the opportunity to help in ways like this. I will also say quickly that Shafiqa had put out a statement saying thanks to all those who have been supporting her. But in that statement, she's also directing individuals to her local management in St. Vincent and the Grenadines. Here it is to take charge. That's Renita Peters-Maris. Because as you can well appreciate, she still has to be preparing. And so she doesn't necessarily want to be the one dealing with all of this at the moment. She still has to remain focused on preparing to compete and to do well. And so she's asking you to get in contact with her manager if indeed you want to help. And I think that's important to allow her the space to compete and prepare while we assist. Yeah. All right. Let's take a quick break here on the Sports Max zone when we come back. Time for sleep time.


They call it the dead stretch. The grizzled old timer on the stool beside me in the diner said, a sun-beaten John Deere cap pitched slightly on his whiskered head.   The diner's wraparound windows framed a wide lot bathed in the black of night in a drift of snow. Only by the glow of the truck stops neon light, the night owl refuel your tankers and your coffee cups and the headlights of long haulers pulling in and out. I thanked God for all night truck stops. The coffee tasted like cat piss, and the eggs weren't much better, but it was a glorious break from the endless hours corralling 80,000 pounds of long haul truck across the country. The dead stretch, I asked, puzzled. I'd driven plenty of roads, most of them as empty and treacherous as my ex-wife, and they bore all manner of strange names taken from trucker colloquialism. But I had never heard of anything called the dead stretch. The old timer said through a mouthful of eggs cuts through the arzarks like a good whore through a weak marriage, empty road for 4550 miles, just you and your hula girl and those mean woods far as the eye can see.  My usual route, a busy interstate which cut a fairly straight line across the state was caught in a nasty blight of road work, detouring all would be travelers elsewhere. I'd scoured my glovebox map for an alternative route, which wouldn't cost me more than an hour. That's when I found a little vein of road snaking through the Ozark Mountains, a shortcut which would, surprisingly, save me time. Not sure how I'd never noticed it on the map before. When I asked the fella sitting next to me at the diner if he'd ever done it, he cocked an eyebrow and told me it's unofficial title. Why do they call it that? I questioned, avoiding using its nickname.  Just one of those things. There's talk sure always is talk about a place like this. You hear rumors guys seeing something strange here in something strange. Though other cars around, he's bound to see something just to make the time pass quicker. I guess it took from John Hadinger. He was a drunk and hit a patch of black ice one night.  They never found his body, say he just blew right through the windshield. I shuddered at the thought, not only of shooting my truck off flat ground and blasting through the windshield like a rocket ship, but of driving a lone stretch of mountains with only ugly Missouri woods for company. You do best to find another route squirt.  The old timer said with a smirk, his crooked smile filled with yellow mush. I had to get going. I could feel exhaustion's warm blanket settling in over my shoulders.  I, uh, I hesitated, not sure how to ask, not sure how to admit to myself and him, that his word of warning had gotten to me. You know, any other way through? He grinned, sure do, sunny. After the old timer gave me directions, I stepped out into the chill and pulled out my cell, surprised to see it was only half past 10. My little girl was a night owl like me and would still be up, so I gave her a ring. There was no doubt my ex-wife would blame me for keeping her awake, but the sound of my nine-year-old daughter's voice was worth the cost of admission. Daddy! Her voice filled my ear. I felt a smile pinching at my ears. Hey, weirdo. I said. And she giggled. What are you still doing up? Um, just reading my book. What book? Harry Potter. She said in a burst. Uh-huh. You learn anything at school today? Bunch of nothing. She said. Well, that's why you get books, ain't it? Hey, those boys still giving you trouble? I could sense her hesitation on the line. Um…  Just say the word, honey. I'm there. I'm okay. I swear. All right. I said. And then I heard the murmured voice of my ex interrogating my daughter on who she was talking to. She said Daddy, which brought my ex-wife no great pleasure. Honey, you there? She needs to go to bed, Carl. My ex-wife's derisive tone was not one of the things I missed about our marriage. Five more minutes? No. I'll tell her you said goodnight. There was a click as the line went dead. I cursed and kicked snow. I should have pressed harder, should have done more. After all that's happened, I wish I'd just gotten to say goodbye to my little girl. 20 minutes later, I was on the road, a six lane highway with sparse traffic rolling by beneath my feet, the great beast of my truck humming gently, as it carried me up the safer road the old timer had recommended. I was making decent time and was ultimately glad I'd heeded his advice and avoided the dead stretch. I was behind an hour or two, but I always valued my safety over time. Speeding was never worth sparing some change on your clock. I felt good, tired, but good. Then I saw the flares, little beads of light burning through the haze of snow spiraling down out of the black heavens. As I drew closer, I saw the extent of the damage. The flares drew a crude outline around an ancient pine tree laid across the road. This massive obstruction blocked all six lanes of traffic, a snarl of roots dangling from one end, a spread of pine branches from the other. There was a state trooper and his cruiser directing people to turn back. And when I asked, he told me the road crews wouldn't be able to clear it out until morning. I was screwed, late, tired, and screwed.  Back toward the road that would take me up the dead stretch. The dead stretch was a narrow strip of two lane black top, slick with ice, which carved a path through the rocky wooded Ozark Mountains. It rose at a steep incline, carrying me up into the mountains and toward my destination. I eased back on the gas, remembering the old timer's story about that guy who wrapped his truck around a tree and drove with both hands firmly on the wheel. There was no other traffic. I was totally alone. And then I wasn't. I saw the first shape about 12 miles up the road. I'm not sure of altitudes, but I was high up. The road curved here and there to accommodate the craggy landscape and a high visibility metal retainer ran along the lane, my lane, which stretched along a sheer drop. The snow had thickened, well on its way to becoming a full blown blizzard, and my visibility was shrinking to the 15 foot cone of light. My brights lanced ahead. I was approaching one of those curves in the road when I saw it. The road, which was planning to take a harsh left just ahead, ended abruptly in a collage of high visibility warning signs telling me to turn. I had plenty of time to make the curve and had eased the gas even further back, slowing to a crawl. When I saw the spider-like shape skidder over the reflective signs, it was live and quick, moving on a multitude of stick-like, jagged limbs which carried its furry brown body like a monkey from here to there in the blink of an eye. My headlights caught its eyes, and they glowed.  My heart shot into the red line, thudding in my chest like a racehorse. I could feel my throat tightening, could feel fear squeezing my heart in its icy grip. My truck was still shooting forward, straight towards the edge of a cliff and the thing I'd seen. I pumped the brakes in time, skidding safely to a stop. Without the thrum of my engine, the howl of the wind tightened, beating in on the sides of my cab with a frozen fist as I sat there, knuckles white, hands ringing the steering wheel, trying to process what I'd just seen. No, I certainly hadn't seen anything. It was late, it was dark, and I was riding on empty with only cat-pissed coffee to keep me. There was a thump. The sound came from the roof of my cab, hollow and powerful, like something just landed above me. I waited, and I didn't hear another sound.  I couldn't move.  Its tiny nails clicking and clacking as it went. It plunked down into the snow and wandered off into the night, leaving me feeling slightly idiotic. I looked around, wondering where it could have come from, and then something burst through the passenger window. I was showered in glass, and this thing lunged for my throat. I instinctively jerked away as its gangly, sloth-like arm swung for my jugular with huge, hooked claws. It was snarling, shrieking. It resembled a spider melded with a cave-dwelling bat, and it was as big as a man. The only thing that saved me is that it couldn't fit through the window. It slashed at the passenger seat and severed the radio, my only chance to call for help. I still had a phone, but experience told me there'd be no signal out here. The image of my daughter suddenly flashed across my mind, and I howled and kicked.  The powerful soles of my work boots pounded down on the spider bat with all the fury I could muster. The monsters screamed, and began slashing at my legs. One of those hooked claws caught my thigh and tore flesh from bone. It was my turn to scream. I kicked harder and harder, channeling everything into my feet, fighting through the agony as I booted for everything I was worth.    I hit the turn as my speed picked up, slowly and surely urging my mechanical beast into a gallop. I fumbled out the map, unfurling it over the wheel, while I split my attention between the road ahead and trying to pinpoint exactly where I was on the map. I looked down at my leg and immediately regretted it. It was bad. I located myself on the map, and I realized I was only a quarter of the way through the dead stretch, and I was quickly approaching what us truckers sometimes call a hole in the wall. I was approaching a tunnel. As I got closer, I heard another shriek, and then another, and another. Soon, I could hear dozens of them, like a band of wolves, and they were calling for me. As I approached the tunnel, which bored a two-lane hole through the center of a tremendous mountain, I heard the shrieks getting closer. The denizens of the dead stretch were coming for me. I began to see them in my side mirrors, shapes too many to count, racing along in an attempt to match speed with my truck, and they were gaining on me.  The needle of my speedometer was steadily climbing from 30 to 40 to 50, as I raced toward the mouth of the tunnel. The blizzard was worsening. I had a sinking suspicion that I was still driving in an incline, rising higher into the mountains into the dead stretch with every passing second. Blizzards were always worse higher up. The snow had become a churning wall of white that engulfed my world, snapping around with the fury of God. The gale force wind was screaming. It was bad conditions made worse, much worse by my rising panic and the horde of beasts chasing me with their cries. My visibility was shrinking every second. My headlights were being blotted out by the storm. I shouldn't have been able to see the tunnel entrance through the thickening storm, but I did. I could. It loomed ahead like a pair of open jaws. And then I was inside it. I drove and never looked back. The shrieks receded into the distance before fading into the wind completely. As I continued, I noticed the things had refused to join me in the inky blackness of the tunnel. I should have stopped to wonder why. It was pitch black in that tunnel. I eased back on the gas. My headlights lanced the road ahead, illuminating two lanes of cracked unused asphalt, bumpy, abused, long forgotten by the world. There were raw stone walls and the ceiling. Well, I couldn't see the ceiling. I knew it wasn't low. And I wondered if there was a ceiling at all. I had a dreadful feeling that I was driving beneath a great abyss. The noise had died down. The creatures shrieks had stopped and the wind had taken a muffler, suffocated into a distant drone by the tunnel. The familiar hum of my truck's engine was a comfort. The cold was bad, but I didn't feel it. I thought I was home free. And then I nearly crashed. The pickup came rushing out of the darkness. I slammed the brakes and went screeching to a stop just in time, the nose of my truck coming to rest softly on the bumper of the ruined car that blocked my way.  It looked like it had been there since the beginning of time. I could see claw marks on the car. The windows were blown out and my headlights illuminated an empty interior. Icicles dangled from the ceiling like daggers. The seating was torn to shreds. None of that gave me much concern. What did, however, was the fact that I was no longer moving. I hesitated for an instant before I eased on the gas and began to push the pickup forward, trying to ease it out of my way. It was a terrible idea. As I urged the pickup forward, it began to shift sideways, both bumpers scraping the walls as it turned at a parallel until it came to rest sitting horizontally over both lanes of traffic. It was stuck, wedged between the walls of the tunnel and completely unmoving. I stopped and just sat there, coming to terms with what this meant. It meant that in order to move, I'd have to get out of my truck, secure the pickup to my winch, and reverse until it was dislodged and out of the way. I figured I'd also have to detach my trailer. It would only slow me down and make my journey that much harder. Shit, I realized my leg was still bleeding. I hadn't severed an artery. If I had, I'd be dead already, but it was a nasty wound. And I took a moment to cinch it tight with my belt. I felt a flash of pain and grunted, then a warm numbness settled in as the blood loss slowed. I looked back at the pickup, hesitating at the idea of abandoning the safety of my truck for the cold darkness of the tunnel. There was no point in putting this off any longer. I grabbed a flashlight and tire iron, and I stepped out of my truck. The first thing I did was angle my flashlight skyward. I was right. There was no ceiling. The tunnel walls stretched up maybe 20 feet before opening into a vast cavern. I couldn't tell you how big or small the space was. My flashlight beam melted out of existence, not finding any ceiling or walls beyond the ones to my sides. I shuddered, feeling the distant but familiar terror of a child, small and tormented by the dark in the belly of a mountain. I forced myself into motion. And 10 minutes later, the pickup was out of my way. I made tracks to my trailer, meaning to detach it. And that's when I heard the noise. A chittering, like the raspy, fluttering sound of cicadas. I paused, and it stopped. And then I heard it again. It was coming from above me. It was echoing, fading off into silence like before. I swung my light upwards, and it took me a moment to realize what I was seeing. At first, I thought it was stars spread out across a cloudless night sky, but it wasn't. It was eyes glowing, hundreds of them, yellow, unblinking eyes spattered across the darkness like pinpricks of light. And then they blinked in unison and chittered. Terror turned my legs to jelly. But the realization that this was not many creatures with many eyes staring down at me, it was one creature, one incredible beast that inhabited the hallowed cavern of this great mountain. I had to get out of here. Right now, my trembling hand reached for the pin that would uncouple my trailer. And that's when the tentacles shot out of the darkness above me. I ripped the pin free, releasing the trailer from my cab as a dozen tentacles black and scaly lanced down out of the abyss like coiled snakes snapping on their prey. They were as thick as tree branches, tipped with a sunken mouth of needle sharp teeth. I realized the eyes were inside the mouse, sitting at the end of some awful esophagus. And then I screamed, batting away one as it shot towards me. I lunged for the driver's side door, and I felt my feet go out from under me. I was barely able to pull myself up and into the cab. I slammed the door and keyed the ignition, and I floored the gas. The tentacles were everywhere. It was like being caught in a hail storm, the helpless feeling of being under assault from the sky. My truck picked up speed as I scraped by the pickup. The tentacles rocking and swaying my vehicle as I gunned it. I could see the end of the tunnel now, but those things were trying to capsize me. I eased the wheel to the right, pulling my truck as close to the rocky wall as I dared. I listened with a sort of satisfaction as the tentacles were torn away by the wall, and I could hear them shriek in pain. And then I shot out of the tunnel. I eyed the side mirror, and I saw a mass of tentacles lash out after me before withdrawing back into the deep darkness of their home. The blizzard had parted like a curtain, revealing the moonscape I now found myself in. I was trucking through a narrow valley carved through a rocky wood. Early trees, drenched in frost, pressed in like bookends. Beyond them, two great mountains spread like wings of rock up into the sky on either side of me. I was high up. I could make out the mountains' peaks, dusted in cloud, and could tell that my altitude had risen substantially. The road had become a bumpy one-lane, crusted in ice. I doubted very much if it was even a road at all. It went on like that for some time. And then the road forked unexpectedly. It split to the right through a narrow pass, and I saw a set of tracks in the snow. Huge footprints dwindling off that way. The indentations conjured up images of a huge beast wading through a blizzard. What the hell could have made those, I thought to myself. To the left, the road continued on to an ancient bridge, steel and wood warped by weather, extending a finger of land across a vast cavern. I went left, toward the bridge, figuring it was a better bet. Bridge meant humanity. Humanity meant finding my way home. But as I drew closer, I saw the floor of the bridge had collapsed long ago. It was completely impassable. I slowed my truck to a crawl and then a stop, and I sat there. It was cold. I was shivering. And after a while, I threw my truck in reverse and I went back, back towards the narrow pass, and whatever had made those footprints. After the spider bats and the beast and the mountain, the last thing I expected to find in the dead stretch was a cabin. I'd been headed up the narrow pass for a long while, certain I'd get stuck, rocky canyon walls eased in on either side. And there were a few points where I found myself very close to grating to a stop. I thought about those massive footprints I'd seen leading this way and wondered what might come next. Surely something to rival the awfulness I'd encountered before. Surely something that would end me once and for all. But no. My truck crunched out of the narrow canyon and I found myself at the base of a naked snow-covered hill. This bore none of the ugly landmarks that had come before. It was a smooth mound of unblemished powder supporting the biggest log cabin I'd ever seen. Smoke rose from the cabin's chimney and I could see firelight through the windows. Warmth, I thought, and I nearly cried with joy. I don't remember driving up the hill nor staggering from my truck and collapsing at the cabin's front door. But as soft curtains of darkness closed over my vision, I found myself curled up on a welcome mat the size of a dining table. It red, freezed to meet you. I remember thinking that was silly before darkness swallowed me and I thought no more. Warmth was a strange feeling. I'd awoken in the cabin, my leg bandaged, and for a terrible moment I felt like Alice after taking the drink me potion. The world around me was far too large. The cabin, too big for any human, was barren, lopsided, and built from hand. I was on a massive, moldering couch in the main room which was sparse and had little in the way of landmarks. There was a kitchen table and stew frothing in a denet pot over the raging flames of the hearth. There was a dark hallway which split off towards the bedrooms. I only glanced over at these for a moment because the biggest man in the world was sitting across from me. He must have stood, my God, eleven feet tall, built like an old circus strongman with a head of wild white hair. His cheeks were rugged and snow whipped in frizzy white mutton chops shot out at weird angles from a face cut from granite. Big tufts of coarse snowy hair sprouted from the cuffs of his patchworked flannel which produced thick hands the size of catcher's mitts. There was only one thing I thought to ask, are you Santa Claus? For a second I thought he might have been, no, he answered, I'm a yeti. He could have been a man. When he spoke it was slow and deliberate and I saw big square teeth except for the canines which were hooked fangs tucked into fat pink gums. He moved deftly which was oddly unbefitting of a man of his size, of a thing of his size rather. And then he poured me a bowl of the best tasting stew I'd ever had and he sat down. And we talked. Hmm, what is this? This is delicious. I said, swallowing a mouthful of the thick hot stew. Snow Elk Stew, he replied, they come through in herds, fewer and fewer. And then he told me the history of his people and I listened in silence as he spoke of the village of yetis who'd once ruled this side of the mountain and how they were no more. All gone now, he said, I'm the last and soon I will join them, frozen bones in ice. I asked him of the creatures I'd encountered and for the first time he seemed to tense up, giving a vague reply. I asked for his name. You couldn't pronounce it. He said, he didn't ask for mine. We talked more and something felt off. The air was stale and ripe and it gave the impression of death nearby. He was aloof and at first I attributed that to his nature. But the longer we spoke, the more I suspected he was hiding something. So what happened to the other yetis? I asked between spoonfuls of stew, chewing the cubes of meat thoughtfully, savoring the flavor of the snow elk which was sweet and somehow reminded me of chicken. Long story, he said, rising. Bathroom first, stories after. He hurried to the front door and disappeared outside for the outhouse and then I was alone. I was suddenly aware of every sound, the thin whistle of wind outside, the crackle of warmth in the fire, floorboards creaking from the other room. Was there someone else in the cabin? I slowly rose and moved into the hallway which ended indoors on either side. I heard the creaking again. It came from the one on the left. I moved slowly. My hand reached out, shaking slightly as it eased open the left side door.  I coughed in a great cloud of frost plumed from my lips, obscuring my field of view. When it cleared, I saw meat, two dozen skinned slabs dangled from meat hooks, all muscle and fat and bone, dripping blood which pooled in a sticky layer on the floor. There were several animals, some of which I couldn't identify, but six or seven of them were humans, men and women, skinned, butchered and hanging. Some of their bodies were moldy, old and shriveled, like meat forgotten in the back of a fridge. I saw a man missing his thigh and left arm, a woman with no head. And I felt the human being stew churn in my stomach. And then a huge shadow swallowed me. I would have let you go. The Yeti said, the air turning hot as he moved closer. I have enough to last winter. I turned to look at him and was met with the back of his hand. I crumbled into darkness before I could even scream. I was floating when I woke up and my shoulder was on fire. There was a meat hook driven through it and I was dangling with the corpses of those who'd come before me. The steady throb of my flesh with a cold metal barb forced through it was unbearable. I bit my tongue so I wouldn't scream. I squeezed my eyes clear and I looked around. The room was cramped and square and through the human ornaments I could see part of a grimy butcher's block against one wall. A cleaver with a blade the size of a laptop computer was jutting up from the wood. The blade was scarred and rusted and I wondered how it would feel sawing through my neck. I felt my stomach churn and I remember the human stew I'd so cheerfully gobbled up earlier. I wondered if this would be my tomb. And then a thought occurred. I looked up. I saw icicles dangling from waterlogged rafters and hooks bolted to the ceiling from which the meat hooks hung. Their eyelids threaded through the little rusted fingers secured to the wood. Meat hooks on hooks I thought and grimaced. Then I saw something that gave my heart a little flutter of hope. There was an empty meat hook off to my right hanging unburdened in the frosty air. If I could reach it, maybe I could unlock it from the ceiling. It would make a meager weapon, but any weapon was better than none. I reached for it and felt my shoulder sizzle. And then I reached further and bit down as my shoulder began to burn. My fingertips grazed the edge of the hook and I reached further, but no, I wasn't going to be able to reach it. The only way was if I could build momentum like a kid on a swing going up and up to get it. I was summoning the nerve to try when I heard something that made my stomach drop. Footsteps. I didn't think. I swung for the meat hook. The pain was incredible now and the footsteps were getting closer. I swung with everything I had and I grabbed it and then quickly concealed it behind my back. The Yeti lumbered in just as I was steadying myself on the body beside me. He paused and looked up at me. And just when I thought I'd been caught, I saw there was sadness in his eyes. I'm sorry. He said and moved over to the butcher's block. He pried the cleaver free. My palm was sweating and I tightened my grip on the meat hook held behind my back. Please, I have a daughter. So did I. He said. So did I. He waded through the hanging bodies and stood before me. Can't you? I choked on my emotion, hot tears sliding down my face. It'll be quick. He raised the cleaver. I inhaled and the world shot into clarity. I roared and the Yeti paused, stunned. The meat hook in my hand came down with more force than I ever knew was in me. He looked over at the surge of movement and the tip of the meat hook went burrowing through his eye with a wet crackle. His cleaver fell to the floor. He looked up at me with his good eye, the meat hook jutting from his skull, blood bubbled from his eye socket. The lights in his head dimmed and slowly he tumbled forward. I don't want to relive the hour I spent forcing my body off the meat hook and so I'll spare myself and only tell you what came next. I found my truck where I'd left it out front with a key still in the ignition. From the engine coughed to life, I tried not to cry. And then I drove. I drove and never looked back. The world around me was white and pure and smooth. It was a snow-drenched moonscape. There were no mountains or trees or rolling hills. The sky was pure and black, with only an icy moon to cast my world in silver. I drove this way for a while. And then the highway came. Just like that, two lanes of smooth asphalt began in the snow and didn't end until I found myself on the other side of the dead stretch. The landscape changed slowly, growing trees, mountains, and the twinkling lights of towns. I didn't see any of it. My hands were frozen to the wheel. My eyes were frozen on the road, and I was covered in my own blood. I must have blacked out. I woke up in heaven, a sterile white heaven. It was a hospital room, but as a man who'd lived through what I had, it might as well have been heaven. It's been a long and painful recovery. My leg aches day and night. My mind does too. I still dream about the dead stretch. I can only hope that time slowly burns that away, like a night fog under the first light of dawn. But I made it through, and I got to see my daughter's face again. She visited me today. We did coloring books, and I hugged her tight, never wanting to let go.


Okay hi everyone my name is Lucy Moore and this is Antoinette Foster and we are founding members of a student group that we started at the Oregon Health and Science University in Portland here and the name of the group is called the Alliance for Visible Diversity and Science and in today's talk we want to first highlight our stories and experience with starting the group and specifically starting a group that focuses on you know these complex issues of diversity and then the second part of the talk will address the importance of using data to drive decision-making surrounding these issues within academia. So we'll start by telling you just a little bit about ourselves and how we found ourselves working in this space. I'm originally from Alaska and then I came down here for college went to University of Puget Sounded to come to Washington then I found myself at OHSU for my PhD in neuroscience and I graduated in January and I'm currently post-doc in there. I got involved in these diversity issues during my graduate career because it's always been very apparent to me that there are serious social inequities and these just become further magnified as you kind of climb the ranks of academia and it's always been a point of frustration for me and I think that both of us as scientists for both of us as scientists it was very clear that these issues needed to be approached in a more scientific manner. And I'm Antoinette I'm originally from Denver Colorado I'm a neuroscience graduate student at OHSU which is what brought me here about six years ago and I've been working in diversity equity and inclusion for about 10 years. So in order to get started I want to take a brief detour and ask you to imagine this scenario.  Maybe the language is the same but but small things like the food and cultural references are and there's nothing wrong with experiencing another color another color another culture. But let's say that this is what your situation is every day and you find and it's so bad it gets to the point where you feel socially isolated. That doesn't sound fun right? But now picture this. Brutality against people from this country is seemingly normalized and seemingly legal. You're afraid to be out in public you fear for your family and your friends the larger community of people like you that you don't even know. Some people in this new place don't know that this terrifying issue was a problem and others don't seem to care and this increases your feelings of social isolation. This was my experience starting graduate school here in Portland. I felt socially isolated not only because I was the only person of color and the first black person and the only not just the first black person not just the first black woman but also the first black person in my program but also because this was around the time when police brutality against black people was becoming more mainstream knowledge and no one around me cared to talk about it. Oftentimes when minorities express their feelings of exclusion others can minimize the depth and importance of social isolation injustice and frustration that we're constantly surrounded by. I knew I needed more support from my environment and if I felt that way then other must others must as well. This led to the creation of our student group which this led to the creation of our student group and we quickly found out that my experience was not unique. I also want to emphasize that throughout this talk we'll be drawing on examples coming from OHSU but this is not specific to OHSU at all. These issues are found across institutions and across places of business. So before we tell you about our group we want to take some time to defer we want to take some time to define some terms that we use frequently so that we're all using the same definitions. Okay so the first term is underrepresented minority which will refer to as URM. These are individuals from racial and ethnic groups that have been shown by the National Science Foundation to be underrepresented in health related sciences on a national basis and this is determined by looking at the percentage of each racial and ethnic group and comparing that to the national percentage. Diversity carried it a very good job defining this so I won't go on too much about this but I'll just say all the ways in which people can be different and this encompasses basically any kind of spirit you can think of. And then finally inclusion Kerry also did like a lovely job of describing what inclusion is and what it looks like but it's the act of creating environments in which any individual or group can feel respected valued and welcome to fully participate. So you can think of URM and diversity as who was in the room and think of inclusion as how do they feel about being there. Historically with affirmative action policies we've typically thought about numbers and so most initiatives are targeted towards getting diverse individuals in the room but haven't thought about ways to adjust the culture to accommodate different people or about creating environments where everyone lives. So keep these terms in mind as we move through this talk. So about our student group we established the Alliance for Visible Diversity and Science and we call it AVID almost four years ago and this and we chose to specifically focus on race and graduate studies. We chose to focus because every form of diversity needs separate consideration to understand their unique challenges and race was receiving very little attention at OHSU. It's also important to explicitly talk about race in the context of scientific research because unlike medicine there is no patient population that drives the need for a racially diverse team. So diversity efforts become voluntary and ultimately optional, become an ultimately optional activity. So these are the faces of the people who played a pivotal role in the creation of this group. Our mission is to recruit, retain and most importantly support graduate students, postdoctoral scholars staff and faculty members from underrepresented backgrounds. Our group takes a two-pronged approach. First we focus on community building and education. A major part of diversity, equity and inclusion work is building community. This is especially important in research where labs can be relatively siloed. This physical restriction makes it just generally difficult to build connections but it's even more challenging for underrepresented minorities as there are few of us and we're not located in the same space. So building a community where everyone could gather was essential. Another important aspect of our group is education. Issues surrounding race can be intimidating and challenging to talk about. So we strive to create a safe space to teach others while cultivating a safe space for us to do so ourselves. We also work on policy reform. We work with the OHSU administration to create more effective policies, practices and initiatives. Once we got started we quickly realized that this work came with considerable challenges and expected considerable challenges. So one of the challenges we met and quickly run into was vastly different understandings of the problem. So we tried to explain to administration that the lack of inclusive practices created a problematic environment at OHSU and the response was actually disbelief and invalidation to the point where many people didn't seem to understand the problem to begin with. And this makes sense because we were all coming in with vastly different personal experiences and perspectives without any mechanism with which to get us all on the same page. And then of course this led to different understandings of solutions and what effective actions and initiatives might look like. So for example, OHSU created this diversity wall that highlights the history of diversity at OHSU and in Oregon and though there was good intention behind this, it doesn't really do anything to push forward inclusion. So if you think back to Antoinette's experience entering grad school and not feeling supported and then being told by administration that there wasn't a problem with support for diversity on campus, you might imagine that walking by this wall would feel more insulting than inclusive. Another thing of course we experienced was discomfort around the topic of race because even though these conversations have increased in frequency in recent years, it's still not particularly easy to talk about. And we weren't only talking about race but also why the efforts around diversity and inclusion were lacking. So the creation of the group was pretty uncomfortable for a lot of people in the OHSU community and oftentimes these feelings were manifested in defensiveness and avoidance. So for instance, many people would ask why we focus on race whereas other groups would not be asked this question, such as the LGBTQ group is not questioned about their focus while we are often we're criticizing question for focusing on race without including other forms of diversity. And to us this response just indicates a discomfort around the topic and a hard time acknowledging race as an issue. And finally and most importantly, there was little to no data around these issues to allow anyone to assess the problem effectively. And of course data are important to get everyone on the same page about what the problem actually looks like and are needed to formulate effective policies versus taking the same approach over and over without metrics for success. So it would be like if you were asked to make a cake but you weren't given instructions on how to do it or you weren't given a list of ingredients. You may intend for your cake to look like this but more likely would end up looking like this or worse. So trying to create policies without data is a way to do it but there are better ways. In other words, we can use evidence-based practices and make data-driven decisions. We're all critical thinkers and we understand the value of data and empirical investigation. We apply this way of thinking to all facets of our lives yet when it comes to race this critical thought is often times abandoned. We rely on anecdotal evidence and opinions to inform our policies rather than research. We should probably just stop doing that because it doesn't make any sense and it actually hurts people. So, and these problems are not a black box. They're solvable just like any other problem. So what type of data might be helpful? We can start with diversity which remember is who is in the room and something that would be useful for instance is statistics on graduate school, the graduate school application and recruitment process and this might include percentage of URMs who applied, percentage interviewed, why people were denied and why people declined. Other information includes understanding what your admissions criteria are. This sounds obvious but most graduate programs don't have standardized rules around who gets in and why. And this lack of standardization leaves too much room for personal biases of all types to creep in. So it would be useful to understand what strong predictors of academic success are and adjust admissions requirements based off of this data and evidence. So a well-known example of this is the GRE which is the standardized test for graduate school admission. And obviously a better score increases your likelihood of acceptance and I personally sat on admissions committees where there were certain professors who regarded the GRE as pretty much like the single metric for someone's intelligence. But recent studies have shown that the GRE is a weak predictor of how people perform in graduate school and actually relates more to socioeconomic status. So now that we understand that the GRE is actually discriminatory, institutions are slowly shifting away from including them in the application process. Also any time we talk about diversity we need to add inclusion which remembers how people feel about being in the room. And because this is about how people feel and work together, qualitative data is invaluable. And this data can be collected through well-developed and through climate surveys although this type of data is seen to some people as less important. That couldn't be further from the truth because we see examples all the time of how the culture of an environment influences outcomes. So these are just a handful of examples of what kind of data would be useful. But this really is a whole field. There's a whole body of knowledge around this and there are infinite more questions you could ask. So, what is the best way to collect these data? Okay, so if you just glance at these terms they're probably familiar to you and we understand the importance of standardized definitions and external review. But I want to explain how these concepts can be applied to diversity, equity and inclusion efforts. So for example consulting the literature and experts is a basic first step. There's a body of literature on these topics as well as other institutions and businesses working on this such as Google and other institutions. Consult and collaborate instead of recreating the well. Transparency and accessibility is so important for racial issues in order to build trust. There's a history of data being used against underrepresented minorities so institutions need to be transparent about data collection, how it's analyzed and how it's interpreted. So an example here is OHSU recently distributed a climate survey around racism on campus which is really great. But it mainly involved listing the number of racist incidences describing each, describing actions and outcomes from each and someone who experiences microaggressions every single day isn't going to bother filling all of this out. And it was also very focused on reporting which is problematic because most people don't bother reporting things because reporting is not often met with action. So this survey was very skewed in the data that it was collecting and I think it would have been more useful to just focus on evaluating how people generally feel about the state of inclusivity. And I personally chose not to participate in that survey because of all of the glaring issues that I saw. So for example one of the issues that I personally saw was if the demographic that's most likely to experience a racial insult is the minority then if you pull the data you might think that there's not a problem which is not true. And also if I personally, so there are not a lot of underrepresented minorities within my program right, and if I represent and I don't participate in the survey then your survey is not representative. So it's really important to know, it's really important to have a plan, a transparent plan and make that plan accessible with how you are collecting the data and what you plan to do with it. And that also leads to the idea of community-based participatory research and initiatives. This is imperative because there is information that only your community knows that helps inform solutions. So for example, consulting with AVIDs or other professional organizations with the creation of that survey could have helped us understand the caveats before we even sent it out. Okay, so you may have noticed that we are essentially describing the scientific method, right? Collect data, determine metrics in action, execute, evaluate, address, repeat. Yeah, this is painfully obvious. Everyone in this audience is not surprised that we're saying these things but what's shocking is that it's overwhelmingly underutilized within academic institutions and businesses when it comes to diversity, equity and inclusion efforts. So what can you do? This is the most frequently asked question after doing this work for a long time. And now you know why data is important in DEI, what can you personally do to create data-driven, diverse, equitable and inclusive environments. So that collection around these issues is ultimately up to those who are getting paid at your institution to do this work. It should not be a volunteer activity but we could all still play a role in ensuring that it's happening. Okay, so how do we do that? The first thing that we would like to suggest is to be critical about any diversity, equity and inclusion effort that's taking place at your, that's happening at your place of work. So ask who's in charge of these efforts? How is the data being collected? Was the impacted community involved? Don't be afraid to ask the tough questions because they're not tough questions if it's being done right. Educate yourself on this issue, on these issues. Resources are everywhere so read up on the topic. I personally think that this is one of the so I think this is one of the most personally accessible and underutilized strategies I encounter. You are better equipped to be critical when you have a starting base of knowledge and I think that this is something that people can feel more comfortable with to talk about if you have some idea of what you're talking about so I can't underscore the importance of educating yourself on the topic. And lastly do not rely on those who are getting paid to collect this data or working on diversity, equity and inclusion to solve the issue. We all know the Culture Center or the inclusion team is a great place but ask yourself how can a small fraction of people change the entire culture of a workplace? That does not make any sense. In order to find solutions we all have to be on board and we all have to be actively engaged in order to create diverse, equitable and inclusive environments. So we hope we've shed some light on the fact that diversity initiatives within academia require more rigorous approaches and ideas about how you can personally contribute to a better environment in your space. Thank you so much for having us and if you have any questions please feel free to contact us and we'll take questions now as well. Thank you.