Griggs v. Duke Power is a landmark 1971 U.S. Supreme Court case.  It is perhaps the foundational case in the interpretation of Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964.

The case centers on a policy of Duke Power Company for internal promotions.  The company required all employees transferring out of the lowest-paying department to have a high school degree, and to pass two aptitude tests.  Willie Griggs filed suit on behalf of many black employees of Duke Power, asserting that the tests discriminated against African American employees.

The Supreme Court reversed the finding for Duke Power at the District Court of Appeals.  The Court argued that the aptitude test and educational requirements were not job-related, and that they had the effect of halting promotions of a disproportionate number of black workers.

This finding ushered in the “disparate impact” test for Title VII law.  This test prevents employers from using what appear to be neutral measures, such as educational requirements or aptitude tests, that have a disproportional impact on a protected minority under Title VII.  Employees must show that tests have a legitimate work-related function; in the case of Griggs, Duke Power could not show this legitimate function.

The Court signaled in the Griggs decision that it would read Title VII broadly.  It set up a test that allowed broad latitude for plaintiffs to bring suit against companies for more than just overt discrimination.  It also gave teeth to the federal regulatory commission created by Title VII, the EEOC.  Under the disparate impact test, the EEOC could use statistical data from employment practices to bring suit against employers.  Even if individuals were not aware that they were the subject of discrimination, the Griggs decision allowed the EEOC to prosecute employers engaging in discriminatory practices.

II
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.

III
O sages standing in God’s holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.

IV
Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

Crossing Back

I drove across the bridge
Sore against Gilberts and Gehrys
There were pools in the potholes and
The metal beams and pavement
Were glazed with rain
water

It was not a place for words
That exist on a page of a book or a screen or a
Sheet of paper that would have been plastered
Face down to the wet road (though you’d still
Be able to read the bleeding purplish ink backwards through
The paper’s translucent blank backside)

I don’t have a huge backlog of interesting things that I’ve written myself, but every once and a while I’ll try to post something original on here.  Hopefully it’s a feature that is both novel and non-embarrassing enough to continue.

For some backstory: John Berryman, who wrote the compelling Dream Songs, committed suicide by jumping off of the Washington Avenue bridge in the 1970s.  This poem is sort of an homage to Berryman, both in the liberties it takes with language and the restrictions it places upon it.  I’d also like to think that he would subscribe to the outlook that the poem takes.

Washington Avenue Bridge

Above the city I saw a patch of light:
The tireless multitudes had teemed their way
onto a low-hanging cloud.
The light once came from above:
Saint-Rémy skies swirled with heavenly riches,
an old order brushstrokes faithfully relate.
But new light comes from below;
it has a more human glow.
Flinging out our restless motion we create
A shining decision-cloud of our switches.

It could not have been too loud:
The sharp breath drawn that cold January day
for John Berryman, the coming on of night.

[Please don't reprint this, not that it's any good anyway.]

I’d appreciate feedback about the background color (it’s light yellow right now) and the striped image right above the “Categories” in the sidebar.  If you consider yourself a great graphic designing mind, I could use some opinions on how that stuff looks.

Finally, I decided to commandeer an old class project to make a less organized BLOG! for myself.  If you really want to hear the less coherent thoughts that I decide to type out, you can visit the link in the sidebar under my name.