I originally wrote this after my graduation at Florida Tech in 2018 with the hope I could find a person or publication in the Melbourne area to print it and spread the word. I tried everywhere I could think, but I failed. I couldn't even pay to have this published. The reach of the university and the perversion of ethics run too deep.
My hell-raising efforts did get me fired from Florida Today though, because the Editor-in-chief was married to the university's VP of Media Communications. I got dangerously close to pinning him and other members of the administration on covering up the sexual assaults on campus. That’s something.
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My name is Roland Hesmondhalgh.
To the majority of readers, that will mean nothing. To my intended audience at Florida Tech, it will mean something else. To some, my name will force a smile to creep across your face. To others, it will mean fear. The kind of fear that comes not from the unknown, but from the known; Knowing that I also know.
By the time this is published, I won’t be at Florida Tech anymore. Either due to graduation or the summons of God, I won’t be around. I have served my time at this university, viewing it from the unique angle of someone unable to compromise. I came to Florida Tech as a mechanical engineer but left as a journalist. There comes a time when a vocation is desired, but a calling is destined.
I have met some wonderful people at Florida Tech. People who I will continue to turn to for advice, for aid, and for when I inevitably find my best is not good enough in the trials ahead. I am grateful for their ears to hear me out, their shoulders to cry on, and their words to guide me.
However, I am first and foremost a journalist. I report on the world around me to the best of my abilities based on observations, records, and honor. But this place, this university, is astonishingly dirty. I cannot continue to protect the students anymore. My options were limited to begin with, but I did the best I could, dammit all. I may only have been a thorn in the administration’s side, but at least it meant one of their hands was busy digging me out.
In my absence, things will likely continue along the path certain faculty and administrators have chosen. Not everyone can accept the burden of knowledge, but now I pass that burden onto you.
To all prospective and current students, you need to be aware of what this place is; what it does.
It can turn people. It can break them. Once decent and ethical people, good people, lured to Florida Tech by the prospect of furthering their prestige and pocketbook, find themselves turned into something else. Either to protect their wallet and title, or for reasons known only to themselves.
There are too many things to fit in a single bridge burning op-ed, but I will try. I’ll start with what is fresh in the minds of readers at the university.
As you know, Florida Tech has a history of de-legitimizing and under-reporting instances of sexual assault. Sadly, many of you know this better than others. But this is beyond just the drunken escapades of Greek Life. This is systemic. From my experiences observing, talking, and more importantly listening, Florida Tech should average about two assaults/rapes per academic year. Some faculty have found this to be an acceptable loss. I disagreed. I tried to cut through the bureaucracy and was summarily blacklisted.
When I became aware of a specific incident in 2017 and learned how a particular staff, who is active in SGA, was working to delegitimize the rape in order to protect a favored student, I went to someone in a position to help. I went to the provost, Monica Baloga. Or should I say, I tried to. When I arrived at her office, unscheduled, I was reprimanded by her secretary. The secretary told me that I would not be allowed to speak with the provost about any issues until she decided if it had merit. I was told I had to provide her with all my documentation and notes, in both physical and digital formats, and she would decide if it was important. Believing in what I was doing, I agreed. I was told to wait at my dorm for the provost’s response within an hour. Within 15 minutes, I received multiple emails from the office of the staff member exposed in the documents demanding that I explain myself in his office, immediately and alone.
I elected not to go.
After that incident, I no longer received emails from the communication department regarding what awards and organizations I was eligible for. To say nothing of the cold shoulders and side glances that followed. The greatest legacy of my endeavor was that particular staff repeatedly threatening legal action against me if I ever recorded or photographed him at any university events without his express permission.
Some of you may now be saying, “This is bullshit. Aren’t you a journalist? Why didn’t you just go to the campus paper then?”
It is. I am. And I did.
My first semester, I took a one credit-hour course with the Crimson. However, between the advisor Ted Petersen and then Editor-in-chief Nathaniel Ashton, no stories with weight or soul were allowed to pass. The term “catch and kill” often came to my mind. As I drifted further from engineering and embraced my love and aptitude for journalism, I turned my gaze inward; toward the university and the individual organizations and colleges that comprise it. The Crimson, our student paper that beats its chest and screams to the heavens how they are the champions of student rights and protectors of free speech, has fallen from grace nearly as far as some staff. The dates on the dusty, forgotten awards in their office will attest to that.
Repeated falsification of federal work study, accepting money under the table from individuals to write stories mocking Ms. Rassoul for her age/health and attacking other vulnerable members of the community, siphoning advertisement revenue for personal purchases, omitting facts and fabricating quotes to settle grudges, refusing to report on any ROTC activities without financial compensation, disregarding the organization’s bylaws to promote friends within the organization arbitrarily. The list is far more extensive but no less damning.
If there’s no one to write about it, no one to talk about it, is anyone likely to know? After I brought all this plus the information on sexual assaults to the Crimson’s advisor, Ted Petersen, and was suddenly told I “no longer belong” in the Crimson and barred from returning, the answer is a resounding no. You aren’t supposed to know.
There was a time when I thought I could change even this organization from within; remind my peers that our work held meaning and could help those around us. I tried forcing the Crimson to hold elections as outlined our bylaws. At a minimum this would let other students see behind the curtain. Petersen declared me ineligible for the position of Editor-in-chief the day of the voting, held the vote behind closed doors, and refused to show a tally of the votes.
This tradition has held true for several editors. Each one handpicked by the previous, despite what the bylaws say, in order to ensure that their perverted, misshapen torch is passed successfully. As a final insult, Petersen to this day refuses to return the documents I drafted detailing my plans for how to expand viewership, establish an online presence, and increase overall efficiency. Documents he said I was required to draft in order to be eligible for the position of Editor-in-chief.
I like to think that because one whistleblowing article was published in the Crimson about the university’s violations of the Clery Act, there is still a chance for proper journalism at Florida Tech.
But then I remember my notes.
I remember how the current Editor-in-chief of the Crimson, Emily Walker, refused to publish letters sent by readers who took issue with the slant of stories or the omission of facts. I remember the sound of her raucous laughter in our COM 3225 class, taught by Petersen, when Xiao Liang and other Crimson staff decided to see how many things they could mispronounce to include the word nigger. Her group eventually deciding that the word vinegar was the best way to sneak it into conversation or articles.
With the Crimson an unviable option for students to sound alarms, that left only SGA. Sadly, this is no better. Some of you may recall that I was elected as a senator to SGA. Not to boast, but I’m fairly confident I was elected with the least number of votes in Florida Tech’s history. A whopping 17 of you cast your ballot with my name. Unfortunately, within two weeks of attaining my position I quit. I saw enough to know there was no chance of meaningful action. I wasn’t about to waste my time with children who think their lives and opinions are grander and more important than those who elected them. However, there was one person at the time who visibly bucked the trend: SGA President Daniel Ata.
I won’t say Daniel was perfect at his job. Only that he genuinely tried and was actively striving to do better. Unfortunately, Daniel had openly committed three cardinal sins: he was an immigrant from South America, he was openly gay, and he was using his elected position to make the university inclusive for others like him. Although not officially grounds for impeachment, it was more than some people could stomach. A situation was created to remove this queer, brown aberration that had no place in the predominantly white, conservative club of elites that composed the executive branch of SGA and the university’s administration.
Daniel attended the American Student Government Association Conference with members of SGA in Washington DC. One of his friends was set to turn 21 during the trip, so Daniel bought a bottle of vodka for him to celebrate after midnight. This friend and other members of SGA, including a senator named Quinn Duffy, discovered the bottle shortly before midnight and decided to enjoy themselves.
After all, they were all friends.
Fast forward two weeks and articles of impeachment drafted by Quinn Duffy were brought forth citing that event and other vague notions of Daniel failing his duties as terms for immediate removal. In order to ensure everything was “fair and balanced” Duffy was allowed by our friend the particular staff mentioned earlier, to act as the prosecutor. A man, and I use the term loosely, who actively drank with a minor and brought forth articles of impeachment, was allowed to act as both prosecutor and witness against someone he accused of providing alcohol to a minor. This likely comes as a surprise to many of you considering members of Duffy’s circle communicated with the Crimson during the proceedings and reached an agreement to limit certain facts. If readers would like to see what little the Crimson wrote for themselves, the articles are in Issue #5 2017 and Issue #6 2017. It’s likely I possess the only remaining physical copies, but scans are available online.
Those of you who attended the impeachment hearings know what a farce it was. Vice President Rebecca Candelaria oversaw the portion of the “trial” that took place inside of SGA. Daniel was barred from inside the SGA hall when the articles of impeachment were brought forth. She forced votes to suspend SGA’s bylaws, she refused votes to allow parliamentary motions by Daniel, and she even held a vote, before decided there were probably enough hands, to not allow Daniel to finish reading his defense paper once he was allowed back inside.
During the actual “trial” was even worse. That same particular staff mention before planted himself firmly inside the trial room. He stated he would ensure things would be impartial. In the interest of this so-called transparent impartiality, there was to be no video, photographs, audio, written notes, or transcript of any kind. A friend of Daniel’s, a graduate student, who was there as a character witness and had been with SGA 6 years previously, challenged this particular staff by asking him where in the bylaws it stated records were not allowed. The staff said he didn’t know. The student responded by saying “I know what the bylaws say, and it doesn’t say we can’t record this.” The staff did not take kindly to this and informed everyone that, “It also doesn’t say you can, and I decide what happens.”
Daniel was removed from office within hours and suddenly everyone in the executive branch jumped up one rank. Daniel informed me he would begin looking into filing Title 7 (discrimination on the basis of sex, race, color, national origin and religion) but the university caught wind.
Members of his fraternity and others around him began to say, “You know, if the university decides you gave alcohol to a minor, they’ll probably go after your student visa. You could get deported back to Venezuela. Is this really what you want?” Why these good Samaritans were suddenly so interested and so knowledgeable about the university’s hypothetical response, I will never know.
Daniel stopped pursuing his Title 7 claims, focused on his studies, and was allowed to quietly graduate. Quinn Duffy was given a manager position in the Facilities Department immediately after graduating. Students were none the wiser and business returned to normal at Florida Tech.
There are so many things at this university that would never be allowed to metastasize if this were a public university. So many things that are inexcusable to those of us who have chosen to literally live or die by the strength of our convictions and the content of our character.
The relationship the Director of Student Activities and Greek Life, Cat Nanney, had with students such as Mark Nanney on Spring Break cruises before divorcing her husband and marrying him. The union resulting in Alpha Tau Omega receiving preferential treatment and funding because Mark is the chapter advisor for Florida Tech’s chapter.
The Associate Head of the School of Arts and Communication, Heidi Edwards, feeding the campus rumor mill by announcing to a class of students the death of my father stationed overseas. The more malignant members of the Crimson spreading the rumor that his death “must have been a suicide” due to my grades not being good enough. I graduated Magna Cum Laude.
Nishal Kiran hopping the fence at Melbourne airport because he couldn’t get the help he needed at Florida Tech, and no one thought to just stop and listen to him. The university’s response solely being damage control with the staff of the Keuper building discussing whether to call in favors and scrub any mention of him being a Florida Tech student from local media outlets.
The imbalance between the number of international students hired in America after they graduate versus the shiny, clean, and white homegrown variety. With a name like Hesmondhalgh, I only ever had international roommates and regularly heard their job-hunting woes.
The university’s hostility to students donating their unused FLEX meal plan funds before they expire to local food pantries. To date, I’ve donated around $3,000 in goods to the South Brevard Sharing Center. Outside the university, this act resulted in a Newsweek story about my efforts. Inside the university however, members of SGA and ResLife were sent to intimidate and tell me I was not allowed to do so.
Or even how when Jeff McGuire died on campus of a heart attack, the university for some inexplicable reason forgot to inform OSHA or other federal oversight agencies of his death. Knowing from experience how hard it can be to get benefits for a family when a father dies without proper paperwork, I contacted OSHA myself. A “top-tier” university such as Florida Tech can’t be having gaps in the paperwork. How would that look if it came to light?
There’s just so much here. So much more than even this.
I know many of you will not feel the same way I do. Some of you physically can’t process it all. Your lives and studies are difficult enough. Others are just too apathetic. Some still just don’t have the empathy to give a damn unless they have something to gain from it. If you fall into that last category just like Nathaniel Ashton or Quinn Duffy, you’ll likely be hired at Florida Tech instantly after graduating. Go ahead and talk to them or any of the others listed. They’re probably right where I left them. Challenge them to explain themselves, or in some cases to even shake the hand of a black man.
No matter how much I scream and I rage, I can’t fix the harm that’s already been done. Not to the girls raped, the tuition funds redirected, or the fellow students who sacrificed their health and family bank accounts to earn that coveted diploma from the Florida Institute of Technology.
As a journalist without a voice, all I could do was bash my head against the brick wall of this university until the bloody pulp that was once my face stood as a reminder to everyone that would come after me. A reminder that I knew what I saw wasn’t right, and I didn’t care how long it took or how much it cost, I would find someone who cared and who I could save.
I won’t ever get to meet you. But I hope, desperately hope, that someone is you. Whoever you are and whatever your major is, please, just be safe. Don’t let this university break you.
V/R – Roland Blake Hesmondhalgh IV