4A - Monday, February 3, 2014 The Michigan Daily - michigandaily.com 4A -Monay, ebrary , 214 Te Mchign Dily mihigadaiyco Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890. 420 Maynard St. Ann Arbor, MI 48109 tothedaily@michigandaily.com MEGAN MCDONALD PETER SHAHIN and DANIEL WANG KATIE BURKE EDITOR IN CHIEF EDITORIAL PAGE EDITORS MANAGING EDITOR Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily's editorial board. All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors. Opening the door to Detroit Snyder's plan to issue 50,000 visas will help Detroit grow Detroit's population peaked at 1.86 million residents in 1950 and has been decline ever since. Today, Detroit's population is about the same as it was in 1910, before the auto boom began. Consequently, the city lacks the necessary tax base to cover its vital services and the highly trained workers needed to fill positions in high- technology industries. Gov. Rick Snyder has announced a plan to bolster the population by issuing 50,000 visas over a span of five years to highly educated immigrants in an ambitious effort to boost the city's population and economic growth. While the plan would likely aid economic recovery by stabilizing the housing market, providing human resources to companies and broadening the tax base, the effort could effectively marginalize the current population. Aiding Detroit's recovering economy is a must for the state, but Snyder must be sure not to alienate long-term CARLINA DUAN|I Our sacrifice, our shame When I was eleven, I was called a Chink by three boys at a water park. I was wearing my favorite blue Nike suit, had just gotten my first period a month before, and adored my fish tank of silver guppies, which swam mercilessly back and forth through a sleeve of cool water each night. I didn't understand race, and I didn't understand love. What I understood was that on Multi-Culti Day in the sixth grade, my mother had made six containers of dumplings for my class. The mois- ture had condensed on the Tupper- ware lids in shameful, wet circles; Casey had wrinkled his nose and asked, "What's that smell?" What I understood was that I smelled differently. I wasn't allowed to shave my legs, I didn't know how to translate "deodorant" into Man- darin, and my favorite meal involved pouring cheddar cheese Goldfish crackers on top ofabowl of rice. Still, I waved the American flag. Still, I loved comic books and strawberry popsicles. At home, my mother spoke to me in Mandarin and I responded back in English. As an American-born girl of eleven, we had a system. In public, I became the mom - checking out our library books, enunciating English words for her at Kroger's, translat- ing Mapquest directions so she'd swerve left onto Newport Road. I was the one who taught my mom how to make macaroni and cheese. I told her what to write to my teach- ers when I was sick and couldn't come to class. We fell into familiar rhythm. Eventually, she stopped using her Chinese-to-English dic- tionary and started resorting to me: "You're the expert," she'd say, "I don't know anything." At some point along the way, I lost my Chinese. Chinese, my first language, grad- ually became my lost language. Born in Seattle to parents who had emigrated from China, I attend- ed preschool in Ann Arbor with almost no knowledge of English. I was placed in a toddler's ESL class, where we bound picture books in sparkly pink wrapping paper, and I learned the language through flashcards: A IS FOR APPLE, M IS FOR MILK. -At home, then, the rules were softened. As a kid, I'd persuade my mother into buying us "nor- mal" food: vanilla wafers drenched in icing, chicken nuggets, wide hunks of pepper jack cheese. I rep- rimanded her for braiding my hair with Hello Kitty elastics. All the white girls at my school used simple hair bands of neon blues, pinks. My mother went to Meijer and bought me a. jumbo pack of black hair scrunchies the next day. I called my mother a bitch when we fought, mostly out of cruel spite. I knew she wouldn't understand the curse word. After all, I was the wise, cul- tured American. She was just the Chinese mom who listened out of love, out of a desire to see her kid not get bullied in a school system that was predominantly white. In retrospect, the games I played as a kid must have been humiliating for my mother: a brilliant woman who'd studied agriculture in college, mas- tered Japanese, loved butterflies and the smell of lavender perfume. With my mom, I cultivated a sense of authority that I couldn't fully grasp in the classroom. Placed next to my all-American friends with mothers who understood that mus- tard was not a salad dressing, but a condiment; that hot dogs were not literally heated animals with tails; that tampons were more popular than pads ... I'd never be the expert. In school, I was shy. Ate white breads, tossed dumplings inthe trash can, raised my hand only when I was sure I could pronounce unknown words exactly right. Played it safe, partly because I was afraid to lose the wicked sense of authority I'd cul- tivated at home. Growing up as a minority, I found independence in these mot- tled, urgent ways. At a water park, at age eleven, being called a Chink was just another new occasion for me to disassemble and learn the English language. To claim it in all its pricking points of ugliness. To be bullied and loved, relentlessly, by the alphabet. Chink, Chigga. Banana. Twinkie. F.O.B. What my Chinese mother could never teach me, I had to learn and seize on my own. What's more, I felt fiercely protective and embarrassed by her. In the U.S., she was vulnerable, sometimes timid, girlish. Couldn't hold the language. My job as her American-born daughter was not only to teach, but to also defend. In middle school, "Yo Mama" jokes infuriated me. My mother was so Chinese she couldn't eat a ham- burger without pinching her nose. She was so Chinese she wore bam- boo slippers, pickled sea cucum- bers, fried rice. But she was also a badass. Mowed our lawn every week, fixed the broken roof herself. Knit scarves, baked bread. Climbed ladders. Sacrificed her Chinese citi- zenship for an American passport - not out of duty to the country, but out of duty to my sister and me. "I want to live in the same country as you when I'm older," she said. At my high school graduation, she recited the Pledge of Allegiance with her left hand over her chest, beaming. I've often been told I'm a part of the "nice" race, the "model minor- ity." At times, it's assumed that what I do well, I do because I'm Asian - not because I was raised by one of the strongest, most intel- ligent women I know. It's frustrat- ing when I find myself settling into these expectations. Annoyingwhen I find myself hyper-aware when breaking out of them. Iam a daugh- ter of immigrant parents, and I am infinitely dimensional, in-love, in- pain, exhausted, roaming. Growing up. Chinese is my blood, and in a way, it defines many ofmy decisions and my movements through this world. But it does not lay the entire groundwork for what I choose to chase, demolish - what I choose to give, or give up. At Pizza House last year, I was told half-jokingly, "You're like our token Asian friend!" Pepperoni circles swam in rainbow grease, and I sizzled. I'm not - and will never be - anybody's token any- thing. I'm my mother's daughter, and I'm my own brain, my own bossy heart. In high school, I was encouraged to pursue a career as an English professor because "You've got that whole Asian thing going for you. You stand out!" As a Chi- nese-American woman, I have been exoticized, categorized and stereo- typed by friends, peers, strangers, teachers, co-workers, crushes. My Chinese mother has been called "cute" when she stutters in English. We've both been sliced up. Being angry about racial inequali- tyis easy. Navigating, processing, and articulating race - that's hard. It's a project I don't know how to under- take without stammering, fearful to offend ... even as a woman of color, talking about my race feels bulky and terrifying. As a Chinese-American, I feel frequently caught in liminal space, floating in-between myth and a self-inflicted series of rules. I am frequently asked, "Where are you really from?" and I'm always quick to respond, almost heatedly, "Here." I was born on American soil. I love this country, with its chocolate creams and dirty politicians and bodies of saltwa- ter. But I am also indebted to my mother, and to her country, which both is and isn't my own. As my mother's daughter, I am built with her history of red stamps, her girl- hood during the Cultural Revolu- tion, her brick walls. Our sacrifice, our shame. I am American, plus Chinese. That identity is plural, stretched. Beautiful weight. And that love. It's plural, too. Carlina Duan is an LSA senior and the Statement editor. residents in the process. The proposed visas would be issued to approved workers in increasing numbers over a five-year period, beginning with 5,000 the first year and ending with 15,000 in the final year. Snyder's plan would use five-year EB-2 visas which are intended for immigrants with a master's degree or superior, and "excep- tional ability" in the arts or in a professional field. Snyder's plan mandates that they live and work in the city of Detroit. However, the five-year validity of the EB-2 visa highlights the temporary nature of this solution, and the question remains about what may happen to the immigrants after their visas have expired. Snyder should not bring in foreign talent with- out adequately preparing for their arrival in the city. Adequate housing must be built, a support system must be implemented and the city mustprepare for this sizable influx of new, culturally diverse residents. Additionally, a program should be created within the frame- work of current immigration law to help inter- ested and qualified workers obtain citizenship after their visas expire. Doing so will help per- manently establish communities in the city, providing a long-term objective for this tem- porary fix and preventing these new employ- ees from being treated like transient workers. Furthermore, the plan will necessarily cre- ate communities of highly paid professionals within a city that is already dealing with class disparities, crippling poverty and unemploy- ment. The city needs these kinds of workers, but programs should also be created to train and equip the existing population with skills that employers are seeking. Detroit's unem- ployment rate sits at nearly 18 percent, and the city's population is being excluded from the increasing number of high-technology fields. If the city's unemployment is not first addressed, this plan will simply exacerbate the income inequality that already exists. There must be advanced job training available to these residents in order to make it possible for them to join the tech-age workforce that Snyder's plan is attemptingto bring to Detroit. The economyis changing, and Detroit must change to keep up with today's fast-paced information economy. Snyder's plan to bring immigrants into the city will aid in growing the population and tax base of Detroit, but any plan to bolster the economy must take into account the current residents. Increased vocational training and job assistance must be provided for unemployed or underem- ployed Detroiters, preparing them for fulfill- ing careers in the new-age economy Snyder is attempting to grow within the city. EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS Barry Belmont, Rima Fadlallah, Nivedita Karki, Jordyn Kay, Kellie Halushka, Aarica Marsh, Megan McDonald, Victoria Noble, Michael Schramm, Matthew SeligmanPaul Sherman, Allison Raeck, Daniel Wang, Derek Wolfe ALEXANDER YALDO I Supportforthe 'Victors' campaign LINH VUI Treating mental illness like a wound When I reflect back on my time as an under- graduate student at the University, my experi- ence has been characterized by the work I have completed with several student organizations on campus, particularly the time spent with Medical Educational Service Opportunities. MESO is a nonprofit student organization on the University's campus that helps under- graduate students participate in health- related and educational service events. We provide workshops, health-related volun- teering and foreign service clinics to aid stu- dents in understanding their niches as future medical professionals. In the past five years, we have grown to support a large number of students on campus and continue to share our goal of providing health-related service and educational opportunities. Hundreds of our members have worked with underserved communities in the greater Ann Arbor area, as well as populations in Costa Rica, the Dominican Republic, Nicaragua and Panama. As one of the presidents of this organiza- tion for the past two years, I would be lying if I said there were not times that I questioned if the countless hours spent working to further MESO's mission were worthwhile. Student organization work can sometimes feel like a burden on top of an already hectic academic load at this University. From planning and bud- geting events to overseeing the activities of an executive board, the mission of our work can sometimes get lost. But then I ask myself: why am I doing this? Why do I give up countless hours per week for such ataxingresponsibility? Why am Itin the office sending e-mails when I could be at Charley's enjoying a fishbowl with my friends? The answer is simple: I believe deeply in the cause that my student organiza- tion represents. During the times of frustra- tion, I recall my own trip to Costa Rica and how much I grew as person from being able to serve others. Those memories push me to continue to run MESO because I want all of the members of this organization - both present and future - to experience the joy that comes from the philanthropy that I experienced two years ago. I am not the only student on this campus that gives up hours of sleep, studying and social events to ensure my organization's suc- cess. There are thousands of us on this cam- pus who choose to donate time to the student organizations about which we are passionate because we remember the indescribable feel- ing of making a contribution to our cause. Student groups provide a different perspec- tive on the criteria of donors to the Univer- sity. Although most current students are unable to provide monetary donations to bet- ter the institution, many of us give our time to serve the University. Students are able to take the knowledge and skills that we gain to fur- ther the University's impact worldwide. The University's outreach is bettered by the time that our volunteers donate in the greater Ann Arbor area and abroad. In short, we represent the University through service work abroad and outside the University's network. As a leader of an undergraduate service organiza- tion, I wholeheartedly believe that current students have the ability to catalyze change both on campus and around the world. This instance is a drop in the bucket of impressive philanthropic contributions that Wolverines are making everyday. Student involvement is at the heart of this Universi- ty's success. A University that champions and values its students provides a lasting impact on the global community. We are all called to be Victors for Michigan. Alexander Yaldo is an LSA senior. He took his own life. After all of the existential ques- tions he asked in class, and after all of the hypersensitive dialogue we shared, he left me nothing but a note. "Linh, you've challenged me like nobody else ever has. I've learned so much from you." These were his last words to me. It's funny because I wrote something similar to him. "You've inspired me to take on new perspectives. Let's keep in touch, okay?" I thought he dis- liked me for the longest time. I pray he read my note so that he knew I admired him too. He had taken his life with no vestige of his last moments, thoughts or feelings. From all of my encounters with him, he seemed like he wanted so much out of life. He had always appeared to be a happy-go-lucky kid with a thirst for knowledge. Little did many of us close to him know that he was experiencing severe depression. Not too long after, on Jan. 17, 2014, Madison Holleran, University of Pennsylvania freshman athlete, also took her life. She exhibited signs of depression and was prescribed antidepressant medication prior to the tragic incident. She had been dealing with the disorder since high school, but many of her friends were unaware of her condition and shocked that she even possessed one. Her mother, recounting Madi- son's tumultuous journey, expressed that she once felt an odd notion that her daughter didn't fit the mold of a psychiatric patient. She then noted that regardless of what she believed, the truth was that her daughter was in danger and that she did indeed need help. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that seemingly jubilant people like him and Madison had the capacity to conceal such dark and deeply embedded emotions. There had to be a reasonable explanation for their ability to live "alternate" lives. I just couldn't put my finger on it until now. In 2011, the National Institute of Mental Health reported American College Health Association statis- tics that asserted that 30 percent of college students felt "so depressed that it was difficult to function" in the previous year. Another study conducted by the Anxiety Disorders Association of America stated 80 percent of college students said they sometimes or frequently experi- enced daily stress. With these shock- ing statistics in mind, why does it seem as though mental illness is not as prevalent as studies have shown? The reason is because mental illness is stigmatized. On a larger scope, millions of people in this nation are suffering from an "invisible" disor- der. Lack of recognition for mental illness is even apparent in the mili- tary, in which we award a Purple Heart to those injured in battle but none to those affected by post-trau- matic stress disorder. In Madison's case, her fam- ily kept her instability under wraps because depression was too much of a taboo topic to broach. "It's not the kind of thing that you want shared in the halls of your high school, in fact, the fear was that it would be whispered behind her back if every- one knew," Madison's mother said. The concerns of the Holleran family are not uncommon to those affected by similar disorders. Mental illness is rising and simultaneously being buried. Schools, like the Univer- sity of Michigan, need to prioritize mental health resources to ensure that students are given an outlet to a seemingly inescapable situa- tion. The University's Counseling and Psychological Services should work to improve appointment wait times, provide more free individual consultation and most importantly, advertise mental illness as a com- monality. Like we would assist students with physical injuries, we must similarly support students dealing with mental illness. Life for us college folks is deceiv- ingly simple in the eyes of our elders. Some even claim that they would rather trade in their hum- drum routine work for our youthful carefree fun. From the outside look- ing in, it seems as though we have it fairly easy. A flexible class sched- ule followed by weekend drink- ing escapades is the quintessential depiction of a college lifestyle. On the contrary, what people may not realize is that there are numerous external and internal pressures present on a university campus. On the summit of higher education, many students who are afforded a position here feel obligated to prove that they deserve this privilege. Juggling academics, work, sports, extracurricular activities and social events is a modern-day expectation. In a sea of students, it's still too easy to drown in a whirlpool of respon- sibilities - overwhelmingly alone. The stress we face on a daily basis can unnoticeably transform into depression, and suicidal thoughts are no stranger to this disorder. In honor of my friend and other stu- dents facing the latent adversity of mental illness, I plead that the Uni- versity takes immediate action in enhancing our counseling services. Linh Vu is an LSA sophomore. CONTRIBUTE TO THE CONVERSATION Readers are encouraged to submit letters to the editor and viewpoints. Letters should be fewer than 300 words while viewpoints should be 550-850 words. Send the writer's full name and University affiliation to tothedaily@michigandaily.com.