There is so much wrongdoing going on at Pima Community College that it makes your head spin.

Keep in mind that if Terri Bennett’s charges are true, employees of PCC did not just violate her civil rights—as if that weren’t bad enough—but they committed crimes.

In 2001, I pioneered the method of approaching educational institutions as crime scenes, and things have only gotten worse since then. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Things will only begin to improve in higher ed, when school officials are perp walked in handcuffs in front of TV cameras, and charged for the crimes they’ve been routinely committing for generations.

I hear you: I’m not holding my breath, either.

Now, let’s look at the case of Pima Community College: What are the odds that the Hispanic students who refuse to speak a word of English know English? In what language are they being tested? How are they being graded? How could they possibly do their jobs correctly? They’ll kill people.

They remind me of the Richmond, California high school honor roll student, with a 3.84 grade point average, Liliana Valenzuela, about whom I wrote in The State of White America – 2007. Miss Valenzuela, a then 18-year-old mother of a three-year-old child in California’s most violent city, couldn’t speak a word of English, and had failed the California High School Exit Exam (CHSEE), yet she thought she was entitled to graduate from high school and go on to nursing school. Passing the CHSEE was a diploma requirement which was enforced for the first time in 2006, to keep people like Valenzuela from graduating.

Valenzuela sued the State of California. Initially, a leftwing judge ruled in her favor and against the CHSEE requirement, but he was fortunately overruled by a higher court. It sounds like Pima Community College should be called Liliana Valenzuela Community College.

About 20 years ago at New Jersey’s Hudson Community College, an elegant Cuban lady of a certain age, whom I had never previously met and whom I would never meet again, approached me one afternoon on my way to the building where I taught. She was concerned about the Economics course she was taking. The class was being given in an English-Spanish mishmash; each concept would be identified in one language, and the content given in the other. She asked me for guidance on what language the test would be given in; I was apologetic but dumbfounded.

Why did the elegant lady feel comfortable approaching a complete stranger with her concerns? That wasn’t the only time that sort of thing happened to me at HCC. I used to unintentionally make a radical statement every day at work: I wore a suit and tie.