Cass Tech Graduates Head to MIT, Princeton and Dartmouth
MICHIGAN CHRONICLE — This fall, Sebastian Dorn will study aerospace engineering at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Khloe Travis will pursue aerospace and mechanical engineering at Princeton University. Emory Jones III will attend Dartmouth College, where he plans to study humanities and creative writing while playing football and competing in track and field.
Three Cass Technical High School graduates are preparing to take their talents from Detroit to some of the nation’s most selective universities, carrying with them ambitions that stretch from aerospace engineering to creative writing and Division I athletics.
This fall, Sebastian Dorn will study aerospace engineering at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Khloe Travis will pursue aerospace and mechanical engineering at Princeton University. Emory Jones III will attend Dartmouth College, where he plans to study humanities and creative writing while playing football and competing in track and field.
Their paths are different, but each reflects the academic rigor, personal discipline and community support that helped them envision themselves at institutions where Detroit students have not always seen themselves represented.
For Dorn, the path to MIT began with a childhood fascination with space.
Photo: Sebastian Dorn
He was drawn to the universe, the physics behind space travel and the machines capable of traveling beyond Earth. That curiosity became a career goal after he joined Cass Tech’s solar car team and helped design and construct a working vehicle.
“My interest in aerospace engineering is really a combination of my fascination with space and the universe and my love for the engineering process,” Dorn said.
The solar car program allowed Dorn to move beyond studying scientific concepts and experience how engineers transform ideas into designs, confront problems and make those designs work.
“When I became a part of the solar car team during my high school years and worked on building and designing a vehicle, that really made me fall in love with the engineering process,” he said.
MIT had been one of Dorn’s goals for years because of its engineering programs. His interest grew after he participated in an MIT-affiliated summer program between his junior and senior years. The experience introduced him to the institution’s academic culture and convinced him that the university could be a strong fit.
“I really liked the culture of that program,” Dorn said. “So, I thought it would be a good fit for me.”
Dorn credits Cass Tech with giving him access to advanced courses, engineering experiences and students from a range of backgrounds.
“I think I had a very diverse and varied experience at Cass Tech,” he said. “I got to interact with a lot of people from a lot of different backgrounds, and I had access to opportunities that a lot of young people in the city don’t have access to because I went to Cass Tech.”
He also credits calculus teacher Mark Duhame with helping him develop the academic foundation he will need at MIT. Counselor Lisa Gooden guided him through the application process and wrote a recommendation on his behalf.
Dorn said Cass Tech Principal Lisa Phillips showed him that leadership should remain connected to community service. He recalled Phillips supporting an initiative that raised money for Detroit residents experiencing homelessness, reinforcing the idea that achievement also carries responsibility.
“My achievements are a product of the many people who are behind me,” Dorn said.
That support included his family, which provided the time, stability and encouragement he needed to study and pursue opportunities outside the classroom.
“My family has been supporting me from the very start,” he said. “They always made sure there was food on the table, made sure I had the time to study and take advantage of the opportunities that were in front of me, and gave me the resources, ability, love and support to push myself as hard as I could.”
While Dorn prepares for MIT, Travis will head to Princeton after finding a defining sense of community during her final two years at Cass Tech.
Travis transferred to the Detroit Public Schools Community District school as a junior after attending schools in the suburbs, including Cranbrook during middle school. At Cass Tech, she found ambitious Black students who made her feel welcomed, challenged and understood.
Photo: Khloe Travis
“When I transferred to Cass, I was met with such an amazing community, especially people who looked like me,” Travis said. “It was so important that I was able to get that cultural immersion before I graduated and see other young people around me who were so determined and well-rounded.”
Travis plans to study aerospace and mechanical engineering. Like Dorn, she credits Duhame’s Advanced Placement calculus course with strengthening her interest in STEM.
“He was one of the most interesting people who has ever taught me anything,” she said. “I learned so much in his class, and he really solidified my love for math and calculus, which most people don’t think is a very fun subject.”
The class also introduced Travis to friends who helped her become comfortable at a new school and more confident in her academic abilities.
“They really helped me find confidence in my own intelligence and feel so loved coming to Cass,” Travis said. “It helped me get well acclimated and adjusted, even though I was only there for a short time.”
Her aspirations were also shaped by the women in her family. Her cousin attended Stanford University, her sister graduated from the University of Michigan and her mother consistently encouraged her to perform at a high academic level.
“My mom always had confidence in me,” Travis said. “She was always my rock, inspired me and pushed me.”
Travis also participated in Leadership Enterprise for a Diverse America, a college-access and leadership program for high-achieving students. Through LEDA, she spent five weeks at Princeton and Yale and worked with a college counselor who encouraged her to apply to universities that initially seemed intimidating.
At Princeton, Travis intends to explore research, community service and social justice advocacy alongside her engineering coursework.
“I’ve always been a really big advocate for social justice issues and helping those who might not be as fortunate as me,” she said. “Princeton really emphasizes that, and I cannot wait to do more community service and social justice advocacy.”
She also plans to step outside her comfort zone. After learning about Princeton’s breakdancing club during an admitted-students event, Travis decided college should include opportunities to experiment and discover new interests.
“I definitely want to get out of my comfort zone and try some new things when I get there,” she said.
Jones will make his own history at Dartmouth as a student-athlete who spent four years refusing to choose between excellence in the classroom and achievement on the field.
Photo: Emory Jones III
He received a full scholarship to attend the Ivy League university in Hanover, New Hampshire, where he will play Division I football and compete in track and field.
“I’ve always been big on grades growing up, trying to keep a 4.0 every year of school,” Jones said. “I pride myself on being just as good off the field as I am on the field. It was the best of both worlds.”
That commitment was tested during the first semester of his junior year, when Jones earned a 4.0 grade-point average while helping Cass Tech’s football team win a state championship.
“That’s definitely the hardest school year through high school, and it was the year that we won a state championship,” he said. “Being able to balance the academic and athletic piece and still have all A’s, that was a really big moment for me.”
Jones said his guidance counselor encouraged him to consider the long-term value of an Ivy League education. Cass Tech head football coach Marvin Rushing also helped him navigate recruiting and evaluate which university would support his development as both an athlete and student.
Their guidance pushed Jones to look beyond the excitement of an athletic offer and consider the education, financial support and professional opportunities attached to each school.
Jones said Cass Tech staff members told him he is the school’s first athlete to attend an Ivy League institution. He sees the distinction as an opportunity to establish a path for students coming behind him.
“It means a lot to build that kind of status and put a light on my school so that other kids can come after me and do the same thing,” Jones said.
He is also aware of what it means to enter an Ivy League campus as a young Black man from Detroit.
“As an African American, I would say applying to an Ivy League may seem challenging or a little too complex,” Jones said. “But I think if you believe in yourself and know what you’re doing, if you are about your grades, pay attention in class and listen to your teachers, it’s not as difficult as you would at first think. Just trust yourself.”
Dorn, Travis and Jones are leaving Cass Tech with different academic interests, but each student emphasized the importance of refusing to place limits on what Detroit students can accomplish.
Travis encouraged students, particularly Black girls, to resist imposter syndrome when considering selective universities.
“When you’re applying to schools like Princeton or other top schools, you can think, ‘Do I really deserve to go somewhere like this?’” she said. “But you do.”
Dorn offered a similar message to students who may believe universities such as MIT are reserved for someone from another city, neighborhood or school.
“There’s nothing that anybody else can do that you can’t as well,” Dorn said. “You always have to remember that you can do anything that you want to do, and there’s nothing stopping you from achieving all that you wish.”
Jones encouraged students to place their education first while remaining confident and grounded.
“Being a DPSCD student means a lot, especially with the kind of city that we’re from,” he said. “I would tell students coming behind me to keep grades first, keep confidence in yourself, trust in God and just have faith.”
When they arrive in Cambridge, Princeton and Hanover, the three graduates will carry the lessons, relationships and expectations that shaped them at Cass Tech. Their achievements also leave Detroit students with three new examples of what is possible when talent is met with opportunity, preparation and a community that reinforces their right to aim high.
Listening as a Lifeline: A Doula’s Witness to Black Maternal Health
OAKLAND POST — Maternal mortality and pregnancy-related mortality use different time frames and methods and are not interchangeable. Finalized 2024 CDC data recorded 649 maternal deaths nationally. The overall rate was 17.9 deaths per 100,000 live births, but for non-Hispanic Black women it was 44.8, compared with 14.2 for White women and 12.1 for Hispanic women.
By Antoinette Stewart-Eneh, Special to California Black Media Partners
Word Count: 1058
Note: Client A, B & C, names are withheld for privacy; these accounts reflect my recollections as theirDoula.
Client A rocked her hips on a birthing ball, surrounded by pale wood and warm textiles in a softly lit Scandinavian-style office. I was her doula through a Southern California maternal health company combining nurse-led care, technology, and wraparound support.
She was a healthy Black woman in her thirties. Her baby girl was doing well; her partner took notes as we discussed labor and advocacy.
Then we turned to their chosen hospital. I knew it well—and remembered a phrase from another client’s experience: “Policy of Sovereignty.”
Client B had been told she needed a repeat cesarean as a precaution, though the reasoning was unclear. Her obstetrician, who performed her first cesarean two years earlier, had assured her throughout pregnancy that she was healthy, healed, and ready for a vaginal birth. We asked staff to review her chart, consult her obstetrician, and reconsider immediate surgery. Instead, they invoked the “Policy of Sovereignty.”
The physician on duty, we were told, had final authority, regardless of her established care plan. I asked whether an ultrasound or reassessing the baby’s position could offer clarity. Cesareans can be lifesaving. But were Client B’s history, informed consent, and circumstances guiding this decision—or was routine overriding individualized care? We kept asking for her obstetrician. Beneath every request was a deeper question: Was she being heard?
The Numbers Behind the Stories
Statistics arrive in clean columns. The experiences behind them do not.
Maternal mortality and pregnancy-related mortality use different time frames and methods and are not interchangeable. Finalized 2024 CDC data recorded 649 maternal deaths nationally. The overall rate was 17.9 deaths per 100,000 live births, but for non-Hispanic Black women it was 44.8, compared with 14.2 for White women and 12.1 for Hispanic women.
In California, Black birthing people experienced 56.5 pregnancy-related deaths per 100,000 live births during 2020–2022—3.8 times the White rate and four times the Asian rate.
As a doula serving Los Angeles and San Bernardino Counties, I see faces behind those numbers. I remember concerns raised softly, then firmly, then desperately. I am tired of watching Black families enter spaces meant to protect them, only to discover they must defend themselves while laboring, bleeding, trembling, or recovering.
Returning to Client A
Client A’s labor stretched nearly 48 hours. As her condition worsened, she, her partner, and I asked whether a cesarean should happen sooner. A provider questioned my place as a doula, then said she was next.
Six more hours passed.
She entered surgery visibly ill with a serious uterine infection, her baby malpositioned and stuck. Her partner later recalled the provider saying, “This baby would never have made it through the birth canal.”
Those words landed like a blow. Our urgency had been treated as ignorance. With Client B, we questioned why surgery was inevitable. With Client A, why it was delayed. Doula advocacy is not about one kind of birth. It is about informed consent, individualized care, and timely action. Hospital routine should never outweigh the person carrying the risk.
Survival Cannot Be the Standard
The Black maternal health crisis includes unequal care, untreated conditions, racial bias, delayed referrals, poor communication, and inadequate postpartum support. It is about birth plans respected only until a hospital becomes less busy and postpartum care that asks whether a mother survived, not whether she has what she needs to recover.
Survival cannot be the standard. Technology can support care, but it cannot replace human connection. An algorithm cannot detect fear in a patient’s eyes, and a mission statement alone cannot ensure adequate staffing or culturally responsive care.
The Story of Client C
Before I arrived, I heard the chaos through Client C’s phone. Staff struggled to locate her baby’s heartbeat on an external monitor as her fear and blood pressure rose. I pleaded for an internal electrode before surgery.
“There’s not enough time,” a nurse said.
“I would like to wait for my doula,” Client C called out.
But she was medicated, hurried through consent, and wheeled away while I listened.
In the operating room, after a shift change, another nurse placed an internal electrode and said, “The previous monitor wasn’t working.”
No one responded.
According to her father, the obstetrician avoided eye contact: “We need to move forward.”
Surgery may still have been necessary; that was not mine to determine. But if faulty equipment helped create the emergency, the family deserved acknowledgment and explanation—not silence. No family should have to wonder whether major surgery followed an unavoidable crisis or a machine failure no one recognized in time.
From Prevention to Accountability
After supporting nearly 100 families, I have learned that danger often begins before admission. I have urged clients to seek care—and heard why they feared returning: dismissed pain, harsh words, shame for asking questions.
Care cannot be holistic where Black families do not feel safe enough to speak or return. Representation matters, but providers of color cannot repair inequity alone. They need adequate staffing, mentorship, culturally responsive training, reliable equipment, and colleagues that are reflective of all the aforementioned. It’s not the Black providers job to care for just the Black patients, everyone should have the same goal.
The Momnibus Act, California’s Medi-Cal doula benefit, the Transforming Maternal Health Model and the Perinatal Equity Initiative require more than promises; they need sustained funding, reliable reimbursement and accountable implementation.
Birth should be sacred. Yet too many Black birthing people arrive carrying the burden of proving their pain is real. A doula can listen, educate, comfort, and advocate—but cannot repair a system that refuses to listen. The true measure of progress is what happens when a Black birthing person says, “Something is wrong.”
Are they believed? When equipment fails, is that failure acknowledged? Do families leave not merely alive, but safe, respected, supported, and whole?
Until those answers are consistently yes, California’s maternal health success story remains unfinished.
About the Author
Antoinette Stewart-Eneh is a mother of two, holistic maternal wellness advocate, and birth and postpartum doula who has supported families since 2019. She serves as program operations coordinator for Frontline Doulas, a volunteer client coordinator with the Joy in Birthing Foundation and a childbirth educator in South Los Angeles. She is studying to become a midwife and lactation educator.
OAKLAND POST — Following the cleanup, Jones talked with Richard Johnson, CEO of Formerly Incarcerated Giving Back (FIGB). Johnson said he wanted to bring formerly incarcerated nonprofits together not only to help clean up the city, but also to bring youth with them to mentor the next generation.
When community activist Jonathan “Fitness” Jones heard concerns from senior residents in East Oakland about illegal dumping, recurring trash issues and the health hazards they created, he decided that watching the problem was not enough.
Jones, a member of the African American Sports and Entertainment Group (AASEG) and an Oakland Private Industry Council board member, learned that seniors were frustrated by the recurrence of illegal dumping even when trash has been cleared. Recurring trash can contribute to unsanitary conditions, attract rodents and leave residents feeling that their neighborhoods are being overlooked.
On Saturday, Sept. 26, Mr. Jones joined High Street Coalition volunteers at Dick’s Donuts near High Street and Quigley Street, spending the morning picking up trash and helping beautify the surrounding neighborhood.
High Street Coalition volunteers organize community cleanups on the second and fourth Saturdays of each month.
Following the cleanup, Jones talked with Richard Johnson, CEO of Formerly Incarcerated Giving Back (FIGB). Johnson said he wanted to bring formerly incarcerated nonprofits together not only to help clean up the city, but also to bring youth with them to mentor the next generation.
Jones and Johnson discussed developing a community model that brings formerly incarcerated individuals, Oakland youth and nonprofit organizations together to clean and beautify the city.
The vision is to create opportunities for formerly incarcerated adults to take leadership roles while mentoring young people through hands-on community service. The program could also provide youth with opportunities to develop leadership skills, learn teamwork and responsibility, and potentially gain employment experience.
The goal is bigger than removing trash from the streets. It is about restoring neighborhoods while building relationships between generations and creating opportunities for people with lived experience to give back to their communities.
Jones believes the message is simple:
“We don’t talk trash, we pick up trash.”
The proposed collaboration seeks to bring Oakland nonprofits, formerly incarcerated leaders, youth, residents, businesses and community organizations together around a shared purpose — cleaning the town, beautifying Oakland and building a stronger community together.