Amid reports that federal immigration officials are accelerating the deportation process of Lue Yang, Gov. Gretchen Whitmer has pardoned the Hmong refugee. The governor called him “a devoted family man and respected leader in Michigan’s Hmong community.”

Yang, 47, a father of six from St. Johns, was taken into custody by Immigration and Customs Enforcement in July. ICE cites a decades-old conviction for attempted second-degree home invasion, a crime committed when he was 19.

Michigan courts have since expunged that record under the state’s Clean Slate law, but federal immigration rules still treat it as grounds for removal.

Since his arrest, Yang has been transferred through multiple ICE facilities, including the federal staging site in Alexandria, Louisiana, which is part of a network used for deportation flights. His case unfolds as the Trump administration has increased removals of Southeast Asian refugees this year.

Refugee to community builder 

During the Vietnam War, Yang’s family, like many Hmong in Laos, worked alongside U.S. troops and CIA operatives, a loyalty that later forced them to flee their homeland and begin again in America. 

Before his family’s journey to the U.S., Yang was born in a Thai refugee camp. He was brought to America as a young child and has no connection to Laos, the country immigration officials are considering for his deportation.

His wife, Ann Vue, told The Metro he has been a pillar for the state’s Hmong residents.

“He has literally brought our Hmong community out and gave us a voice — that we do exist in the state of Michigan.”

Ensnared in the system

Advocates, including Michigan State Sen. Stephanie Chang and immigration attorney Aisa Villarosa of the Asian Law Caucus, say they’ve received reports that Yang’s deportation is proceeding. They believe he was placed on a plane last night with a leg to Laos, a country where he has never lived. 

The Metro has contacted ICE but has not yet received confirmation.

Villarosa says she is encouraged by the governor’s pardon, calling it “a groundbreaking step in the movement to challenge Lue’s detention and deportation, and a message of affirmation to the millions of loved ones and advocates at the front lines of inhumane immigration enforcement policies.”

Still, she says, the effect of Whitmer’s pardon on Yang’s immigration case remains unclear.

Just before Whitmer announced Yang’s pardon, Villarosa joined The Metro’s Robyn Vincent to discuss fighting to keep families like the Yangs together.

Listen to The Metro weekdays from 10 a.m. to noon ET on 101.9 FM and streaming on demand.

Subscribe to The Metro on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NPR.org or wherever you get your podcasts.

More stories from The Metro

It began at Comerica Park during a summer Tigers game — lights bright against the sky, fans filling the stands, the rhythm of the game unfolding.

For deaf and hard-of-hearing volunteers from Detroit’s DAD Foundation, the energy was palpable, even if the experience of the ballpark was not defined by sound. They relied on sight and movement as they staffed a concession stand to raise money for their nonprofit.

They were trained for the job, but no one provided interpreters or signs to help them communicate with customers. After a confusing encounter with a secret shopper, they were told not to come back. 

Now the Sugar Law Center for Economic and Social Justice has taken the case to court. They argue that what happened is discrimination under the Americans with Disabilities Act. Last month, a federal judge said their lawsuit can move forward. That means their claims under the ADA warrant a complete examination.

Although this happened at a baseball game at a popular stadium in Detroit, the story asks something bigger than baseball. What does access look like in a world built around sound? 

Attorney Liz Jacob from the Sugar Law Center for Economic and Social Justice joined Robyn Vincent on The Metro to discuss what this ruling could mean for deaf and hard-of-hearing people across the country. 

Transcript of the conversation below.

Robyn Vincent, co-host of The Metro: Liz, welcome back to The Metro.

Attorney Liz Jacob: Thanks so much for having me. 

Robyn: And a note before we begin: radio is a hearing-based medium, and that’s part of the problem when we talk about access. So a full transcript of this story will be available online, because access starts with how we tell the story itself.

Now. Liz, before we get to the law, can you take us to that night at Comerica Park? What did communication look like for your clients? What was missing, and how did that absence shape everything that followed?

Liz: Absolutely, and let me just start off by talking a little bit about our clients. We have an amazing group of clients here who are all people who, themselves, are deaf and hard of hearing and are a part of an organization, the DAD Foundation, that actually advocates for the rights, needs, and community for deaf and hard of hearing people. 

So participation in this program at Comerica Park was so important to our clients, it gave them a chance to get to be a part of game day, to get to volunteer during that excitement down at the stadium, and to be able to support their nonprofit for their volunteer work at the stadium, they were able to get a donation for the DAD Foundation, a community group that they care about that supports their needs and allows them to thrive in the community. 

All the volunteers went through a training offered by the vendor services organization at Comerica Park. They understood the role, and they were ready to participate. What was missing, Robyn, was the chance for them to participate equally. The organization knew that they were deaf, they knew that the volunteers were hard of hearing. They knew that they needed accommodations in order to thrive in the role, but they weren’t provided that. They weren’t given even the barest minimum of accommodation required under the Americans with Disabilities Act, which in this case could be signage. It could be having a sign language interpreter on site with the volunteers. It would also include training a secret shopper to know that these individuals volunteering at the concession stand are deaf and hard of hearing, and they should adjust the way they communicate with them accordingly. 

They weren’t provided with those accommodations, and that broke down communication.

Robyn: Liz, let’s talk more about what the law actually requires, because the Americans with Disabilities Act does talk about effective communication, and you have just given us some examples of what was missing. Who decides which aids or services are appropriate?

Liz: Great question. So the aids and services required should be centered around the needs of the people who have the disability. So the Americans with Disability Act considers the individualized needs of the folks who have the disability. So in this case, folks who are deaf and hard of hearing, there are really well-understood and accepted accommodations for folks who have this particular disability. In this case, signage, access to an interpreter, are considered reasonable accommodations regularly offered under the Americans with Disabilities Act.

Robyn: And these were all missing in this situation. Now, Liz, this case is a little unusual, because the people at the center of it weren’t paid workers. They were volunteers. That meant the usual workplace protections under Title I of the Americans with Disabilities Act didn’t apply. Instead, you’re arguing this falls under Title III, and that’s the part of the law that covers public spaces. So that means restaurants, stores and stadiums, like Comerica Park, and it guarantees equal access for everyone, not just employees. Why does that distinction matter? What does it reveal about how the Americans with Disabilities Act protects people who contribute to public life in ways that, say, aren’t defined as work?

Liz: Great question. So, one of the really important things about the Americans with Disabilities Act is that it underscores a congressional intent to make public life accessible to people with disabilities. Work is one part of public life, that’s why it’s captured under Title I of the act, but Title III was really an important intention from Congress to expand access to the general public, to people with disabilities, it was a recognition that we have built so many inaccessible spaces in our world that do not allow people with disabilities to show up fully and be able to participate. So Title III, and the way that we’re trying to push the court to understand this issue, is that Title III really covers fair and equal access to any place of public accommodation. Those are spaces like Comerica Park that are open to the general public. And we’re pushing the court here to see that when we say public accommodation, we don’t just mean physical access to the stadium. We mean access to all programs offered at the stadium to the general public. That’s what we have here, a program offered generally to any nonprofit in the public in fact, our clients were invited to participate in this program. And when you’re going to offer that kind of public-facing program, you need to make it accessible to everyone. Folks should not be denied the right to participate in these programs just because they have disabilities. 

The Americans with Disabilities Act shifted that responsibility onto these private organizations that are going to host events open to the public, programs and services open to the public. It puts the onus on the private actors then to make those spaces accessible to everyone.

Robyn: So, what I’m hearing from you is that there needs to be a higher threshold of responsibility when it comes to these organizations and how they’re accommodating people with disabilities. I want to zoom out, because we often talk about sound in stadiums, but inclusion is visual and it’s linguistic. Where do you see systemic breakdowns across sports venues when it comes to deaf culture and ASL as a language,

Liz: It’s a great question, Robyn. What we have heard from our clients and other members of the deaf and hard of hearing community is that it’s not just being able to see the game played, it’s also being able to hear and understand that is such a big part of the experience that they’re not able to access, right? We have commentators sharing what’s happening play by play on the field. We have folks talking in their seats. Those are all parts of the experience that could be made more accessible. Having sign language interpreters who are actually breaking down commentary during games is one part of the experience that could be made better. And in this case, we’re talking about the ability to participate in that full game day experience. It’s not just what’s happening on the field. A big part of game day is built around the concession stands, getting to enjoy a hot dog with friends, getting to build camaraderie with fellow volunteers as you serve those concessions. That’s a really important part of access on game day, too. 

So, being able to make sure folks can participate fully in the experience on game day, whether that’s as a spectator or as a member of the concession stands, is so important to building a better vision of full inclusion for every person who’s in that stadium on game day.

Robyn: Let’s contextualize this beyond game day, if we could. Liz, because the data show a durable employment gap: roughly half of deaf adults are employed, and that’s compared with about 70% of hearing adults. And I should note, many of the jobs deaf people have are outside the traditional workforce, and those positions may differ a lot when it comes to quality, hours, or stability. Liz, when a public venue fails to provide interpreters or visual communication and then removes deaf volunteers, how would you say that single access failure ripples into the workforce?

Liz: It’s a great question, Robyn. So what we have heard from our clients is that participation in this volunteer program is so important, exactly for the reason that you’re underscoring. It is so hard for members of the deaf and hard-of-hearing community to be able to access dignified, meaningful work. And these volunteer roles are actually really important because it gives them work experience, it allows them to build their resume, get experience on the ground when it’s so hard for them to be able to access those jobs. 

So participation in these programs are important. It shows that they have the ability to do it. It helps them build their skills and experience, and it allows them to have a leg up the next time they go to apply for a job. That’s also why having an experience that like this, that was so hurtful, so stressful and so distressing during a volunteer experience, also sets our clients back a lot. It makes them feel yet again, like spaces are not built for them, like it’s yet again so difficult for them to find an accessible opportunity that how can they then find a job that’s going to accept them or build the accommodations that they need. 

So that’s why it’s so critical that we fight these inaccessible spaces even when they’re in a volunteer context, because for our clients, they matter. They’re the experiences that allow them to build their lives that push them closer to dignified work. And it shows us that building meaningful, dignified employment opportunities for deaf people also has to start with their other experiences in the community, their experiences as a volunteer, their experiences with fellow volunteers, where they’re building community and building skills, are just as important if we’re taking a full person approach, and that’s why we need to push for the civil rights of folks with disabilities at every level. We need to keep up with the fight, whether it’s a full time job or a volunteer employment opportunity, because those are the experiences that define people’s lives. Those are the experiences that set the tone for the spaces that they can access next.

Robyn: Liz, this has me wondering, though, about Comerica Park, about the Detroit Tigers, what responsibilities do teams and venue operators have when contractors are running concessions, where does accountability live in these multi-party arrangements?

Liz: This case, I think, is highlighting the fact that there are so many different actors who control the experience on game day, who run the concession stands and who impact the abilities of the general public to be able to access the space. 

So for Comerica Park and for the Detroit Tigers, they have a powerful opportunity now to be in solidarity with our clients, with members of the deaf and hard of hearing community, and actually hold their contractors accountable. 

These are not just things that would be nice to do. These are legal requirements under the Americans with Disabilities Act and the Persons with Disabilities Civil Rights Act that we have here in Michigan. So there’s an opportunity now for the Detroit Tigers in Comerica Park to hold their vendors accountable to the law and to making sure that they are inclusive and accessible to the community. 

So we hope the Detroit Tigers and Comerica Park will join us in holding these vendors accountable and set a better standard going forward for all their vendors to make sure that everyone, regardless of their level of ability, is able to enjoy all of the programs offered on game day.

Robyn: Liz, let’s stay on game day. What would meaningful compliance look like next opening day. In other words, how do we measure success beyond a settlement?

Liz: So for our clients and for other people who are deaf and hard of hearing, Compliance would look like starting at the very beginning. When they’re invited into these nonprofit programs at Comerica Park, they receive training that’s accessible. They have sign language interpreters at the trainings. They’re given visual tools and resources to allow them to get correctly trained up and have access to a training that they can fully understand and participate in. 

Then when they’re there on game day serving concessions, they have signage that makes it clear that the folks working in the stand that day are deaf and hard of hearing, so that folks who are coming up to the concession stand know how to better communicate, and they have the resources to do it. Maybe there’s a handwritten option or a digital tool that allows them to place their order, or they’re able to point or reference an easily accessible menu to show a deaf or hard of hearing person what they’d like to order. 

In addition, there could be sign language interpreters available at the concession stands that have deaf and hard-of-hearing volunteers so they can have full conversations with participants. And if you get to be a part of game day in that way, you know, sharing a reaction to the game, being able to talk about someone’s order, that would look like much fuller inclusion to be able to provide them the same opportunities that any other volunteer at that concession stand is able to have.

Robyn: Liz many workplaces and public programs are what advocates call hearing-led, and this may be the first time that some people listening to this conversation right now have ever even heard that term, which means places where hearing people set the tone, the systems and the language when those organizations want to do better, whether it’s Comerica Park or someplace else. What should that look like from the start? How do you co-design access with deaf communities in mind?

Liz: So, organizations like our client, the dad Foundation, are great examples of partners in doing that work and thinking about what it looks like to actually center and prioritize the needs of the deaf and hard-of-hearing community. So there are organizations like the Dad Foundation that are really excited to have those conversations that already have in their membership, tons and tons of Deaf folks who would like to be a part of those conversations, who know what they need and want to help shape spaces. 

So, my first invitation to folks who are thinking about, how can you shift a hearing-led space is, one, work in partnership and in solidarity with people who are in the deaf and hard of hearing community, communicate with them, understand their needs, and then take that forward into the design of your workplace, your community or your public space. The other option to think about too, is, as hearing people, we have privilege being able to think about how we experience space, when we can hear sound, hear voices and hear noises in our environment, and then unpack those privileges. What would allow someone to experience that space if they couldn’t hear what would allow someone to participate if they couldn’t understand the words that were being spoken? Whether that’s shifting to sign language to written tools to visual tools, there are changes we can all make when we consider our hearing privileges, and how if someone didn’t have those privileges, they could better access that space.

Robyn: Finally, Liz, I have a question about WDET, and radio more broadly, because radio is, of course, an audio-first medium. What do you want from newsrooms covering deaf stories beyond transcripts, so that coverage itself doesn’t replicate the barriers you’re fighting in court right now?

Liz: Great question. Being able to think about multimedia stories is a way to meet the needs of our Deaf community members. So making sure that we don’t just have audio-first stories, but we’re actually putting together media assets that are kind of whole packages that folks can experience a number of different ways that best meet their needs. 

So, in this case, we could have a version of this story, for instance, where we’re able to be on the ground at Comerica Park or in our offices. Folks are able to see us talk and actually have a live sign language interpreter throughout the whole conversation, being able to have a visual story that, instead of using any audio, just communicates through graphics and other kinds of written texts and tools. Being able to think about a multiplicity of ways to tell a single story allows it to be so much more accessible and so much more inclusive to audiences who might not be able to access what we have right now of a radio story, of a story relying entirely on audio.

Robyn: Attorney Liz Jacob with the Sugar Law Center for Economic and Social Justice. Liz, thank you so much for joining me on The Metro.

Liz: Thanks for your time today.

Listen to The Metro weekdays from 10 a.m. to noon ET on 101.9 FM and streaming on demand.

Subscribe to The Metro on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NPR.org or wherever you get your podcasts.

More stories from The Metro

A metro Detroit attorney who has helped lead multiple humanitarian flotillas bound for Gaza says she was abused and detained by Israeli forces after the ships were intercepted on October 8.

Huwaida Arraf, a human rights lawyer long involved in pro-Palestinian activism, says she was zip-tied, beaten, and held for five days before being deported. She describes her experience as minor compared with the suffering of people inside Gaza, where shortages of food, water, and medicine persist amid leveled city blocks and decimated infrastructure.

Arraf spoke with Robyn Vincent on The Metro about the incident and her decision to keep leading these missions meant to draw attention to Israel’s blockade of Gaza.

Ceasefire under strain

The Israeli war in Gaza following the Hamas-led attacks on October 7, 2023, has killed nearly 68,000 Palestinians and over 1,200 Israelis. The latest flotilla voyage took place just before Israel and Hamas entered a fragile ceasefire agreement on Oct. 10. Days later, Israeli airstrikes resumed after reports of new clashes. Both Israel and Hamas have accused the other of breaking the truce. 

Humanitarian agencies say residents of Gaza face worsening hunger, disease, and displacement as aid convoys continue to be delayed or blocked.

Disputed blockade

Israel maintains a maritime blockade on Gaza, first imposed in 2007, which it says is necessary to stop weapons from reaching Hamas. Israeli naval forces routinely stop the flotillas that challenge the blockade.

Some international law experts argue that intercepting civilian aid ships in international waters violates maritime law and amounts to collective punishment. Israel disputes that interpretation and says the blockade is lawful under the right of self defense.

Reports of prisoner abuse

During her interview, Arraf referred to allegations of torture and abuse of Palestinians held in Israeli custody. International media outlets and global human rights groups document those allegations.

The Israeli organization B’Tselem released the 2024 report “Welcome to Hell – The Israeli Prison System as a Network of Torture Camps,” describing what it called the systematic abuse of Palestinians. Israeli officials deny the claim and say the country’s detention system meets legal standards.

Genocide case at the ICJ

Arraf also noted that Israel faces a genocide case at the International Court of Justice (ICJ) in The Hague. The case was launched by South Africa at the end of 2023 and later joined by other countries, including Spain, Brazil, Mexico, Ireland, and Turkey.

Israel and the United States reject the accusation. Proceedings are ongoing and expected to take years, though the ICJ has found Israel’s occupation of Palestine unlawful under international law.

Listen to The Metro weekdays from 10 a.m. to noon ET on 101.9 FM and streaming on demand.

Subscribe to The Metro on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NPR.org or wherever you get your podcasts.

More stories from The Metro

Michigan’s $81 billion budget opens with a promise to put more money into classrooms.

It raises per-student funding to record levels and keeps free breakfast and lunch on the table for 1.4 million children. It’s a lifeline for many schools after years of uneven pandemic recovery and shrinking federal aid. But those gains come as districts grapple with rising costs and teacher shortages.

Beyond education, the budget steers nearly $2 billion a year toward fixing Michigan’s roads and bridges. To help pay for it, lawmakers approved a 24% cannabis wholesale tax. That new revenue stream has already drawn a lawsuit from the cannabis industry, claiming the tax is unconstitutional because it alters a voter-approved marijuana law without the supermajority required.

The plan also trims vacant state jobs, pares back business incentive programs, and closes the SOAR fund that once grew large corporate deals. It adds $50 million for affordable housing and maintains funding for child care.

Bridge Michigan reporter Jordyn Hermani has been mapping the winners and losers in this deal. She joined Robyn Vincent on The Metro to discuss what this budget reveals about Michigan’s future.

Listen to The Metro weekdays from 10 a.m. to noon ET on 101.9 FM and streaming on demand.

Subscribe to The Metro on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NPR.org or wherever you get your podcasts.

More stories from The Metro

Michigan’s cannabis industry has become one of the largest in the nation. Last year alone, people here bought over $3 billion worth of legal weed, second only to California.

Now, the state wants to take that success and pave roads with it. State lawmakers just passed a new 24 percent wholesale tax in the state budget, set to begin in January. It will raise an estimated $420 million a year for transportation projects.

Supporters call it smart budgeting, “pot for potholes.” But others see a troubling shift: a young industry, still finding its footing, being asked to carry the weight of Michigan’s infrastructure.

The Michigan Cannabis Industry Association is taking the debate to court. It has filed a complaint arguing the new wholesale tax unlawfully alters a voter-initiated cannabis law under the state constitution.

Underlying inequalities

There is also a deeper tension. For decades, Black people in Michigan were nearly four times more likely to be arrested for marijuana possession than white people.

When voters approved the legalization of recreational cannabis in 2018, it came with a promise: that the people most harmed by prohibition would share in the new prosperity.

This new tax could test that promise if higher costs push small, Black- and brown-owned businesses out of the market.

So today, The Metro explores these tensions and concerns through the perspective of people in the cannabis industry.

First, we hear from Jamie Lowell, a longtime cannabis advocate. He’ll help us step back and learn: how does Michigan’s market compare with other states?

Then we turn to Al Williams, owner of DaCut dispensaries, and president of the Detroit Cannabis Industry Association.

Listen to The Metro weekdays from 10 a.m. to noon ET on 101.9 FM and streaming on demand.

Subscribe to The Metro on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NPR.org or wherever you get your podcasts.

More stories from The Metro

In Michigan, some people coming home from prison face another kind of sentence — silence at the end of every rental application. State law does not prohibit landlords from denying housing because of a person’s criminal record. 

Lawmakers tried to change that last year with the Fair Chance Access to Housing Act. It would have asked landlords to look deeper and weigh time served, work history, and rehabilitation before they said no. But the bill never reached the floor.

Advocates want it revived, saying the need is even more urgent now. 

Michigan is short roughly 185,000 affordable homes for its lowest-income renters, and when housing is this scarce, those with records are quick to get shut out.

Landlord groups have resisted. They say they should exercise discretion over whom they rent to and that safety must come first.

So, the question before lawmakers — and all of us — is a simple one with hard edges: When does a person’s past stop defining where they’re allowed to live?

Tony Gant, an advocate for people affected by the criminal justice system, spent 20 years in prison. 

Gant joined Robyn Vincent on The Metro to discuss living in a gray area between rehabilitation and acceptance, and how he’s trying to make change in Michigan.

Listen to The Metro weekdays from 10 a.m. to noon ET on 101.9 FM and streaming on demand.

Subscribe to The Metro on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NPR.org or wherever you get your podcasts.

More stories from The Metro

When Mike Duggan was sworn in as Detroit’s mayor more than a decade ago, much of the city was in the dark. Four out of every 10 streetlights didn’t work. His administration rebuilt the grid and relit neighborhoods block by block.

Blight became another target. Crews tore down thousands of abandoned houses that posed safety risks. With hundreds of millions in federal relief, Duggan stabilized the budget and funded neighborhood programs. Meanwhile, the city’s violent crime rate eased: just over 200 homicides last year, the lowest number since the mid-1960s.

Other markers point to momentum. Detroit’s population has inched up for two years in a row — rare for a city that has seen decades of decline. Moody’s even restored Detroit’s investment-grade bond rating. 

Duggan highlights these milestones when he calls himself “a fixer.”

But Detroit’s recovery is uneven.

Roughly one in three residents lived in poverty last year — the highest rate since 2017. The city has yet to fully address an estimated $600 million in property-tax overassessments that forced many families from their homes.

Housing, overall, remains scarce. A city-commissioned study estimates Detroit needs more than 40,000 additional affordable rental homes for households earning under $25,000 a year — a 45,200-unit gap as of 2021.

The broader picture is mixed: while downtown investment is visible, many neighborhoods still face population loss and a lack of basic infrastructure.

Still, compared with the Detroit Duggan inherited in 2014, the city holds more promise today, and much of that transformation happened under his watch.

Now Duggan wants to take his record statewide. He’s running for governor of Michigan in 2026 as an independent — and asking voters across the state to buy into his version of Detroit’s turnaround.

The mayor joined Robyn Vincent on The Metro to discuss how he thinks his strategies can scale statewide.

Listen to The Metro weekdays from 10 a.m. to noon ET on 101.9 FM and streaming on demand.

Subscribe to The Metro on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NPR.org or wherever you get your podcasts.

More stories from The Metro

Metro Detroit is home to one of the largest Iraqi communities outside the Middle East. Muslims and Chaldeans share streets, shops, and schools here. Together, they hold stories of displacement, of wars fought by the United States on their homeland, even as that same nation became their place of safety. Yet that closeness is cleaved by sharp differences, especially at the ballot box. 

Many Chaldeans, rooted in Catholic tradition and conservative values, have leaned Republican. Muslim Americans, once loyal Democrats, broke away in 2024, frustrated that the Biden administration did not stop the devastation in Gaza. Many instead voted for Green Party candidate Jill Stein.

These political choices are layered with questions of identity, family, and faith. They are the backdrop of Pomegranate, a film written and directed by Iraqi American author Weam Namou.

The story unfolds during the 2016 election. It follows Niran, a young Muslim refugee who finds herself in a conservative Chaldean Christian neighborhood. Through her eyes, we see the push and pull of trying to belong amid the stereotypes Middle Eastern women face in America.

Namou has spent her career writing about these themes. She has given voice to Iraqi women’s experiences of migration, resilience, and faith. “Pomegranate” carries that work forward. Although the film is set years ago, its questions still feel urgent: How do communities live together when politics and religion pull them apart? How do women escape the boxes sharply drawn out for them?

Namou joined Robyn Vincent on The Metro to discuss belonging in America today.

Listen to The Metro weekdays from 10 a.m. to noon ET on 101.9 FM and streaming on demand.

Subscribe to The Metro on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NPR.org or wherever you get your podcasts.

More stories from The Metro

A quiet shift is underway in Detroit, one led by residents pushing for change inside the places that have long excluded or marginalized Black people, people of color, and other vulnerable communities.

The Detroit Equity Action Lab, directed by Asandi Conner, is at the heart of this effort.

Conner trains and supports a network of fellows working in Detroit’s schools, hospitals, nonprofits, and arts organizations. Their mission is to bring equity into the institutions where it is often resisted.

For Conner, this is justice work. It is about shifting how organizations make decisions, whose voices get heard, and what accountability looks like. She says protests wield power and capture public attention, but lasting change often happens in the daily grind of strategy and persistence.

That approach feels especially urgent now, as political support for diversity, equity, and inclusion shrinks nationwide under the Trump administration. 

In a separate conversation, Conner’s colleague Angel McKissic spoke about restorative justice circles that repair harm and build trust at the community level. Together, their approaches speak to Detroit’s vast justice landscape. McKissic works to heal relationships between people, while Conner challenges inequity inside traditional systems of power.

Conner sat down with Robyn Vincent to discuss what it means to rebuild systems from within.

Listen to The Metro weekdays from 10 a.m. to noon ET on 101.9 FM and streaming on demand.

Subscribe to The Metro on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NPR.org or wherever you get your podcasts.

More stories from The Metro

Under the Trump administration, the space for diversity, equity, and inclusion is shrinking. Federal dollars are drying up, and programs that once opened doors are disappearing. 

Given this climate, could restorative practices hold additional weight? Restorative justice is not DEI. It does not sit in a binder or hide inside a grant report. It lives in people — survivors and those who have caused harm sitting together, telling the truth, trying to mend what was broken. It is harder to measure, but also harder to erase because it is built on relationships.

While restorative justice is not the same as DEI, both often speak to the same communities, those historically marginalized by race, class, or circumstance. Where DEI seeks to create fairer systems, restorative justice offers a way to repair harm when those systems fall short.

Angel McKissic, director of the Damon J. Keith Center for Civil Rights at Wayne State Law and founder of the Metro Detroit Restorative Justice Network, helped lead the recent report Unraveling Harm, Cultivating Safety. Based on surveys and interviews with Detroiters, the report found that many residents want alternatives to the traditional justice system — responses that emphasize healing and accountability rather than punishment.

McKissic’s work brings those findings into practice. Through trainings and community partnerships, McKissic is helping Detroiters use restorative practices in schools, courtrooms, and neighborhoods. For her, justice can mean both accountability and healing.

She joined Robyn Vincent on The Metro to demystify some of the haze around restorative justice and why she believes it could transform Detroit communities and the criminal justice system more broadly.

Listen to The Metro weekdays from 10 a.m. to noon ET on 101.9 FM and streaming on demand.

Subscribe to The Metro on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NPR.org or wherever you get your podcasts.

More stories from The Metro

With the stroke of a pen, President Trump approved a $1.1 billion cut in July that ends federal support for public media, jeopardizing independent journalism across America. Now, rural and tribal stations face severe cuts or closure, and stations like Detroit Public Radio, which depends on hundreds of thousands of dollars annually in federal funding, might never be the same.

This should concern every American who cares about democracy. The U.S. stands among a select few nations with a truly free press, protected by the First Amendment. But democracy doesn’t sustain itself; it demands active support.

Here at WDET, I am proud to say our journalists are part of that scaffolding. We speak truth to power, hold government officials accountable, and bring you essential reporting that digs into what local leaders are doing and how it affects you.

How WDET works for its community

On The Metro, the daily news and culture show I co-host with Tia Graham, we put local leaders in the hot seat and amplify unheard community voices daily.

Without this type of independent journalism, democracy weakens.

I am also proud to say that, unlike so much of the media competing for your attention, public broadcasters like WDET do not chase clicks or corporate sponsors — our mission is rooted in the public interest. That independence makes us a watchdog against corruption, a provider of emergency alerts, and a trusted news source.

But because we inform people honestly, it upsets powerful people — those who benefit from public ignorance or propaganda.

Without a free press, power goes unchecked, transparency disappears, and trust erodes. In the absence of local independent media, who is holding city council accountable? Who is investigating your local school board or monitoring law enforcement transparency? Studies show when local news disappears, voter turnout drops, polarization rises, and people feel less connected to their community.

A rising trend

While the erosion of local journalism may feel gradual, the danger to press freedom is neither new nor confined to city limits. Around the world, journalists face harassment, imprisonment, and even death for pursuing the truth. We don’t need to look further than the Committee to Protect Journalists to see myriad documented examples of that, abroad and here in the U.S.

But let’s fix our gaze abroad for a moment, because this playbook — weakening independent media — is a timeless tactic deployed by authoritarian rulers across the globe.

In Italy, Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni has packed its public broadcaster with loyalists. This has silenced critical voices and rewritten national narratives.

In Poland, the ruling party seized control of public media, firing hundreds of journalists. It has turned it into a government mouthpiece.

Without a free press, power goes unchecked, transparency disappears, and trust erodes

In Greece, the government abruptly shut down ERT—public radio and TV—with no warning, claiming cost savings, then it hijacked its equipment. It was seen as an attempt to silence independent media.

In Argentina, the far-right President Javier Milei dissolved Télam, the national news agency founded in 1945, accusing it of being “propaganda.” Observers say this is part of his battle with the press and comes amid deep cuts to the public sector.

In the Philippines, Congress refused to renew the license of its leading broadcaster. This move was widely viewed as retaliation for the network’s critical news coverage of President Rodrigo Duterte’s administration.

Again, I want to be clear: These tactics—defunding, censorship, co-option—are a familiar playbook among leaders who fear accountability. And the move to defund public media in the U.S. is part of that playbook. We cannot let this country go down the same path — a nation that has enshrined the free press in its Constitution.

Support public media

Public media’s history is rooted in education, service, and community connection. From classroom broadcasts in the early days of radio to today’s hard-hitting reporting that holds powerful people accountable, public media like WDET is an institution, both a Detroit one and one that prioritizes your access to information.

Today, your support means we can continue challenging the powerful and protecting your right, and your community’s right, to know. Please consider donating now at wdet.org/give because democracy depends on all of us.

An abbreviated version of this op-ed appeared in the Detroit Free Press.

The University of Michigan is ending gender-affirming care for minors, leaving an untold number of families with fewer options and greater uncertainty.

Gender-affirming care for minors is legal in Michigan, and major medical and mental-health associations recognize it as best practice. Research links it to lower depression and suicide risk. 

But a Michigan Medicine spokesperson said in a prepared statement that the risks of offering this care are now too high. This comes after it received a federal subpoena as part of a criminal and civil investigation into gender-affirming care for minors.

“We recognize the gravity and impact of this decision for our patients and our community. We are working closely with all those impacted,” the statement reads.

The announcement represents a profound loss for families. For some young people, it means a place they felt safe and could trust is closing its doors. And the consequences are real: more anxiety, more depression, greater risk of suicide.

Equality Michigan’s Emme Zanotti joined Robyn Vincent to discuss the impacts on Michigan families. Zanotti, a trans woman, also took off her advocate hat to reflect on the personal reverberations she feels at this moment.

Michigan Medicine did not respond to an email request about the number of patients who will be affected and how the hospital plans to assist patients during this transition. 

Editor’s Note: After this conversation aired, Corewell Health, a major healthcare provider in Michigan, also announced the end of its gender-affirming care. 

Listen to The Metro weekdays from 10 a.m. to noon ET on 101.9 FM and streaming on demand.

Subscribe to The Metro on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NPR.org or wherever you get your podcasts.

More stories from The Metro

It has been almost two years since Hamas attacked Israeli civilians on October 7. Since then, Israel’s military campaign in Gaza has killed more than 62,000 Palestinians, according to Gaza’s Health Ministry. 

Israeli forces have destroyed schools, hospitals, mosques, and entire neighborhoods, turning daily life into rubble.

The United Nations warns that nearly 640,000 people are now facing famine. 

In the West Bank, armed Israeli settlers have stepped up violent attacks against Palestinians, while the Israeli government has carried out demolitions at some of the fastest rates in decades. At the same time, about 48 Israeli hostages remain trapped inside Gaza.

Israel’s leaders have approved a plan to seize Gaza City, and a leaked U.S.-linked proposal imagines putting Gaza under American trusteeship and paying Palestinians to leave — an idea many experts call forced transfer.

Meanwhile, the United States continues to supply Israel with weapons, as pro-Palestinian students face expulsions and immigrants are detained here at home. 

The crisis is drawing global attention. On Sept. 9, organizers of the Global Sumud Flotilla, a civilian mission that includes Greta Thunberg, said one of their boats in Tunisia was damaged by a drone strike. All crew members survived, but Tunisian officials deny a strike occurred, blaming a fire on life jackets.

As flotilla missions face fire abroad, longtime organizers like Huwaida Arraf are pressing for a bold global strategy.

Earlier this month, Arraf spoke at the People’s Conference for Palestine in Detroit, where she called to “globalize the intifada” as a worldwide movement for justice. The Arabic word intifada literally means “shaking off.” In Palestinian history, it refers to popular uprisings against Israeli occupation. 

Arraf, a Detroit-born civil rights attorney and Palestinian-American activist, co-founded the International Solidarity Movement and has helped lead several of the Gaza Freedom Flotillas — boats attempting to sail toward Gaza, break Israel’s naval blockade, and deliver humanitarian aid.

Arraf spoke with Robyn Vincent about why she has dedicated her life to nonviolent resistance.

Listen to The Metro weekdays from 10 a.m. to noon ET on 101.9 FM and streaming on demand.

Subscribe to The Metro on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NPR.org or wherever you get your podcasts.

More stories from The Metro

Detroit’s schools are still recovering from the deep wounds of systemic neglect. Redlining, segregation, and a crash in city revenue starved schools of resources. Meanwhile, state funding for Detroit continues to lag behind wealthier districts. 

Over the years, control of Detroit schools has taken many turns that have added to the trauma.

First, it was mayoral control, and later, state‑appointed emergency managers. These interventions were supposed to help, but they often made things worse.

Through it all, poverty has entrenched itself in the households of many Detroit students. Housing instability, unreliable transportation, and inaccessible healthcare have added trauma on top of trauma. And then came the pandemic,  erasing precious early learning time.

But like the city itself, Detroit schools have been slowly, steadily rising. The latest glimmer is the new M‑STEP results, which show Detroit public school students largely making steady incremental improvements in math and English.

A Chalkbeat Detroit analysis of Michigan’s 2024-25 standardized tests puts the results into deeper context, showing Detroit’s third‑graders reading at their best level in over a decade. 

Still, only about 13% of DPSCD third graders reached reading proficiency, that’s compared to nearly 39% statewide.

So what do these modest gains really mean, and how long can they last?

Dr. Nikolai Vitti, superintendent of Detroit Public Schools Community District, joined Robyn Vincent to answer these questions.

Subscribe to The Metro on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NPR.org or wherever you get your podcasts.

Listen to The Metro weekdays from 10 a.m. to noon ET on 101.9 FM and streaming on demand.

More stories from The Metro

I-375 is not just a concrete thoroughfare — it is a reminder of how Black neighborhoods were sacrificed, and how the promise of repair remains unresolved today.

When it opened in the 1960s, the freeway bulldozed Black Bottom and Paradise Valley. Those neighborhoods had been cultural and economic hubs for Black Detroiters. Residents were displaced and businesses were cut off.

Decades later, state and city leaders proposed replacing that mile of freeway with a surface boulevard. They said the plan was more than infrastructure. It was meant to acknowledge the historic harm wrought by I‑375’s construction.

But costs for the plan soared. And the design? Well, it still looks like a highway to many. Earlier this month, MDOT hit pause. Supporters call the pause a chance to rethink, but critics worry it means the project may never get off the ground.

Michigan State Sen. Stephanie Chang (D-Detroit) has been one of the most vocal leaders pressing for change. She has pushed to scale back the boulevard, center safety, and she wants to ensure any new land honors the legacy of families and businesses displaced decades ago.

She joined Robyn Vincent on The Metro to discuss what the start of real repair could look like.

Listen to The Metro weekdays from 10 a.m. to noon ET on 101.9 FM and streaming on demand.

Subscribe to The Metro on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NPR.org or wherever you get your podcasts.

More stories from The Metro

For decades, fossil fuel companies championed the idea that climate change is solved through everyday personal habits — change your lightbulbs, recycle more, drive less — while they continued ramping up oil and gas production. BP even popularized the now‑ubiquitous carbon footprint calculator, nudging us into changing our behaviors rather than targeting the sources of the crisis.

A recent study found that people often misjudge which personal choices matter most. Many think recycling is the biggest fix, but it is actually cutting down on long flights, eating less meat, and even deciding whether to own a dog (pets have surprisingly large carbon footprints).

When people were shown the facts, they adjusted their intentions. 

But there is a catch: when climate action was framed only as a personal checklist, participants were less likely to support big collective steps, like voting for climate policy or joining a march.

This tension speaks to the myth of personal responsibility in climate change. 

Naomi Oreskes has written widely about how industries, from tobacco to oil, push this myth to delay real action. She is a professor of the history of science at Harvard University and co-author of the books “Merchants of Doubt” and “The Big Myth.”

She joined Robyn Vincent on The Metro to discuss how we can shift the focus back to meaningful climate solutions.

Subscribe to The Metro on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NPR.org or wherever you get your podcasts.

Listen to The Metro weekdays from 10 a.m. to noon ET on 101.9 FM and streaming on demand.

More stories from The Metro

The debate over a new oil tunnel for Enbridge’s Line 5 pipeline landed at Gov. Gretchen Whitmer’s doorstep this week.

On Tuesday, tribal members and environmental advocates delivered letters and handwritten comments to the George W. Romney Building in Lansing. The notes urged Whitmer and EGLE Director Phil Roos to reject the proposal beneath the environmentally sensitive Straits of Mackinac.

This followed a virtual briefing that activists held with EGLE staff that was punctuated by a display of thousands of folded paper fish, a nod to the Great Lakes’ fragile ecosystem.

Enbridge Energy says a concrete-lined tunnel deep beneath the lakebed would minimize spill risks and ensure energy reliability. 

“Enbridge is working with state and federal agencies to study and develop plans that will minimize and mitigate impacts to the natural environment, natural resources, cultural heritage and community priorities,” wrote Enbridge’s Ryan Duffy in a recent statement emailed to WDET.

Duffy said Enbridge “will build the Great Lakes Tunnel safely, in conformity with thorough safety and environmental reviews by permitting agencies.”

Opponents say the plan threatens wetlands, locks Michigan into fossil fuel reliance for decades, increases carbon emissions, and infringes on tribal treaty-protected waters.

Sean McBrearty of Oil and Water Don’t Mix joined Robyn Vincent on The Metro to discuss the coalition’s specific request and the evidence behind its concerns.

Share your thoughts on Line 5 

EGLE’s public comment period for the permits tied to wetlands and bottomlands closes this Friday, August 29. Here’s how to add your voice:

• Submit comments online via EGLE’s MiEnviro Portal – search application HQ3‑8BYB‑N9DT1.
• Email comments to: EGLE‑Enbridge‑Public‑Comments@Michigan.gov
  

Editor’s Note: Enbridge is a financial supporter of WDET. Our newsroom observes a clear boundary between funders and editorial content, and we do not serve the agendas of those who support us.

Listen to The Metro weekdays from 10 a.m. to noon ET on 101.9 FM and streaming on demand.

Subscribe to The Metro on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NPR.org or wherever you get your podcasts.

More stories from The Metro

Dan Gilbert’s Hudson’s tower was sold as a symbol of comeback for Detroit — a shiny promise of jobs, growth, and a Woodward Avenue reborn.

But behind the glass, there is a more complicated story. 

State officials approved over $600 million in tax breaks across several Bedrock projects, including Hudson’s. Locally, Gilbert also won a $60 million city tax abatement, with the Downtown Development Authority playing a key role in downtown financing.

But the returns are uncertain. A University of Michigan study projects the incentives could generate benefits through 2052. 

Critics say many promised jobs are simply relocations from GM’s headquarters and other Gilbert buildings, rather than net new opportunities for Detroiters.

Meanwhile, the flow of public money remains murky. 

To see if the subsidies are paying off, the Detroit Free Press is now suing the Michigan Department of Treasury to gain access to state records. Detroit Free Press reporter JC Reindel is helping lead the fight for information. He joined Robyn Vincent on The Metro to discuss how this story asks a deeper question about public subsidies and if they serve Detroiters or developers.

Listen to The Metro weekdays from 10 a.m. to noon ET on 101.9 FM and streaming on demand.

Subscribe to The Metro on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NPR.org or wherever you get your podcasts.

More stories from The Metro

Last week, the lights went dim on a renewable energy program with big promise for the planet and your pocketbook. 

Michigan was set to receive $156 million from Solar for All. 

The money would have helped low-income households add rooftop or community solar, paid for battery storage and basic upgrades like panels, wiring, or roof work, and funded workforce training and community outreach. Households were projected to save about 20% on electric bills—roughly $400 annually. 

The Environmental Protection Agency terminated the $7 billion program after Congress rescinded the funds via President Trump’s new tax-and-spending law. Lawmakers are contesting the move, but for now, projects are paused, and families who expected relief from high energy bills will keep waiting. 

Oakland County Commission Chair Dave Woodward has supported local solutions that lower residents’ costs and give businesses tools to adopt renewable energy. He joined Robyn Vincent to discuss what a real path forward could look like in the absence of federal support.

Listen to The Metro weekdays from 10 a.m. to noon ET on 101.9 FM and streaming on demand.

Subscribe to The Metro on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NPR.org or wherever you get your podcasts.

More stories from The Metro