Opinion

JENNIFER CALFAS

EDITOR IN CHIEF

AARICA MARSH 

and DEREK WOLFE 

EDITORIAL PAGE EDITORS

LEV FACHER

MANAGING EDITOR

420 Maynard St. 

Ann Arbor, MI 48109

 tothedaily@michigandaily.com

Edited and managed by students at 

the University of Michigan since 1890.

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.

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Claire Bryan, Regan Detwiler, Ben Keller, Payton Luokkala, Aarica Marsh, Victoria Noble, 

Michael Paul, Anna Polumbo-Levy, Allison Raeck, Melissa Scholke, Michael Schramm, 

Matthew Seligman, Linh Vu, Mary Kate Winn, Jenny Wang, Derek Wolfe

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

W

hen I started college 
last year, I averaged 
about five hours of sleep 

a night. As the 
year 
progressed, 

my alarm clock 
chirped an hour 
earlier. Four hours 
of sleep definitely 
wasn’t something 
I 
enjoyed, 
but 

it was a routine 
necessity, just like 
everything 
else 

on my to-do list. 
I enlisted it as 
another 
adjust-

ment made toward “maturing.” Col-
lege meant being career-driven with 
lofty ambitions for success among a 
competitive pool of peers — so natu-
rally, sleep-deprived, right?

Unfortunately, after a few months, 

the human body realizes it cannot 
physically operate with so little rest. 
No phone can go without a recharge. 
No road trip can happen without a 
pit stop, and inconveniently, the body 
will eventually demand sleep or oth-
erwise shut down.

This year, I remember setting an 

alarm for an 8 p.m. power nap, then 
awaking disoriented at 7 a.m. the 
next morning. My roommate and I 
consistently sleep through both our 
alarms, leaving us frantic and hur-
ried in the mornings before class. 
The problem is, I’m certain I’m not 
the only one with these experiences. 
One peek into any library on any day 
indicates the sheer abundance of 
students working from the moment 
they wake up until the time they fall 
asleep on top of their books.

Time has become most college 

students’ most valuable possession. 
Personally, I feel the need to take 
advantage of all the University offers 
while I’m already paying upwards of 
$50,000 each year. However, what 
started as getting the most “bang 
for my buck,” transpired into a per-
sonal desire, a competitive urge to 
do everything — to stay in good aca-
demic standing, to have a job, to learn 
money management, to maintain a 
social life, to lead extracurricular 
clubs and more and more.

According to a recent Michigan 

Daily survey, 63 percent of students 
participate in clubs at least once a 
week. Instead of striving to balance 
our busy lives with good health, we 
have instead redefined “balance” to 
mean all-inclusive involvement. Col-
lege has turned us into workaholics.

Essentially, we forgo sleep com-

pletely or prioritize it at the bottom 
of our lists, viewing it as more of a 
hindrance to productivity rather 
than a human necessity. We tell our-
selves to “suck it up” when we feel 
burnout approaching to suppress and 
endure onwards. What doesn’t kill 
you makes you stronger, right?

In class, our professors point out 

how we all look exhausted with 
droopy eyelids in the middle of the 
day, berating us to sleep at least 
eight hours a day. Unfortunately, we 
have heard this suggestion time and 
time again. Yet we’re never galva-
nized to change our lifestyle, even 
when we’ve experienced some of the 
malignant consequences.

As a result, many students resort 

to 
caffeine-dependent 
lifestyles 

fueled by coffee, soda, energy drinks 
and even attention-enhancing drugs. 
Adderall and Ritalin are two of the 
most common drugs sold on the 
college “black market,” used most 
commonly for academic rather than 
recreational purposes. When I sur-
veyed a psychology discussion, 90 
percent of the class raised their hand, 
admitting they knew at least one per-
son who bought those drugs without 
a prescription to more effectively 
complete their work.

Last spring, the University’s Cen-

tral Student Government introduced 
a pilot phase of napping stations at 
the Undergraduate Library because 
96 percent of 500 survey respondents 
felt fatigue was disrupting their per-
formance. In addition to this, there 
have been few initiatives to actively 
decrease or temporarily ameliorate 
sleep deprivation, and only a string 
of elusive online tips to improve sleep 
quality. Daily columnist Jenny Wang 
also wrote about a burn-out the week 
before spring break, where she hum-
bly asked professors for reasonably 
manageable academic loads.

However, the crux of the issue 

is not solely from schoolwork, like 
the CSG initiative and Wang’s arti-
cle may suggest. Naps and lighter 
coursework cannot remedy the situ-
ation long-term. Rather, our sleep 
deprivation stems from our academ-
ic objectives paired with the work 
outside of class that we voluntarily 
take on (and persuade ourselves we 
need for a complete college experi-
ence). Deprioritizing sleep has been 
increasingly cultivated and perpetu-
ated by our scholarly, success-hungry 
society so that the workaholic atti-
tude is no longer simply a cultural 

factor, but now inherent within our-
selves. Sleep deprivation is more a 
product of our mentalities.

We have already read the correla-

tive studies and heard the statistics 
time and time again detailing the 
relationship between sleep, memory 
processing and academic perfor-
mance. We also don’t need to know 
that 73 percent of college students 
have sleep issues; we already know 
that it’s some astoundingly high 
number, so the specifics that almost 
three-fourths of this campus feels 
exhausted during the day isn’t a 
shocker.

Additionally, just 11 percent report 

good sleep — far too small a fraction 
especially since we know how closely 
sleep is related to academic perfor-
mance. More specifically, accord-
ing to Shelley Hershner and Ronald 
Chervin’s study relating college stu-
dents to sleep, rising just one hour 
earlier decreases student GPAs by an 
average of 0.132 out of 4.0 points.

You don’t need me to rattle off all 

the pernicious consequences, like your 
teachers and parents have done too 
many times before, but it’s clear that 
we are only shooting ourselves at our 
shoes. At our age, we have surpassed 
ignorance. Yet, we ironically continue 
to deprive ourselves of the necessity of 
sleep. Our motivation for consistently 
harming our bodies in this way can 
only be attributed to our rigid men-
talities, programmed by the anxiety of 
ambition or the fear of inadequacy.

Each year, countless scientific 

and psychological studies are con-
ducted about sleep deprivation, only 
strengthening the same conclu-
sions citing its degree of detriment. 
Regardless of the statistics from 
research, advice from University 
Health Services and pleas from 
professors to better “balance” our 
schedules and get more rest, our 
mentalities are not so simply altered. 
Old habits die hard, or not at all.

From an evolutionary standpoint, 

will we, as humans, gradually require 
less sleep in the future? Will we drive 
ourselves to work all the time that 
we’ll physically require less rest to 
refuel? As we have seen, we turn a 
blind eye or a helpless shrug regard-
less of our education and awareness 
about the subject. So, as a collective, 
competitive culture and individually 
as insatiable students, what will it 
take to change our minds?

— Karen Hua can be reached 

at khua@umich.edu.

To be Malcolm X

Political dissent is a fascinating concept. 

To me, the act of politically dissenting — from 
popular opinion, from one’s own communally 
associated belief or from previously held per-
sonal ideology — is a courageous act of defiance.

Last March, Students Allied for Freedom 

and Equality brought forth a resolution to Cen-
tral Student Government that requested the 
creation of a committee to investigate compa-
nies that the University invests in that violate 
the Universal Declaration of Human Rights 
and profit off of Israel’s occupation of Gaza and 
the West Bank. I was a representative on the 
assembly at the time, as well as a candidate for 
student body president. Prior to the proposal of 
this resolution, I didn’t know much about the 
international Boycott, Divestment and Sanc-
tions (BDS) movement, and I had never formal-
ly engaged in any advocacy around Israel and 
Palestine. What I did know, though, was how I 
was supposed to feel in regards to the issue at 
hand. Just by nature of my identity as a Jew, I 
knew that I was supposed to oppose the reso-
lution, oppose divestment and propose a narra-
tive of peace and dialogue around Israel. I knew 
this because Hillel told me so through the many 
e-mails I received affirming their opposition to 
BDS, and because of the many Facebook posts 
about all of the Hillel-sponsored Israel solidar-
ity efforts I could join.

After reaching out to one of the resolution’s 

authors, examining my own values in the con-
text of what was being asked of us as an assem-
bly and hours of extensive research, it intuitively 
made sense that I would support a resolution of 
this nature. I sat with a strong sense of cogni-
tive dissonance, weighing my moral and ethical 
values against my Jewish identity. Saying that I 
opposed the resolution felt morally inconsistent 
with my values, but saying that I supported it 
felt incredibly isolating.

With a public and political face that said no 

to the resolution, but a heart and a mind that 
said yes, I felt a moral tension that even today 
still hasn’t gone away. The way that the Jew-
ish community on campus received my ambi-
guity was what ultimately led me to finding 
my strength for the dissent. I have come to 
actualize my dissent in small ways since last 
March, from informing community members 
and friends of my personal support of eco-

nomic boycotts in Israel to exploring “Jewish 
Progressive Except for Palestine” identities 
in academic research.

The way that fellow Jews on campus treat-

ed me and other Jewish students who did not 
fully conform to the status quo Israel political 
belief was disheartening. My unwillingness 
to strongly oppose the resolution, demon-
ize its supporters and vocalize an unwaver-
ing dedication to the longevity of Israel as a 
divided state meant that I was no longer wor-
thy of their love, their friendship and, some-
times, our shared Jewish identity.

It took me a summer of research and reflec-

tion to understand why this PEP identity 
persists in the Jewish communities I have 
always identified with, and why it’s so hard 
to move past the cognitive dissonance cre-
ated by a resolution such as the one presented 
to me a year ago and the one being presented 
Tuesday night. I have come to understand 
my experience with BDS and Israel politics 
on campus in a larger social context, where 
there’s a Jewish communal standard and 
expectation for many historical, social and 
political reasons, which Jewish community 
members are expected to adhere to simply 
by the nature of being Jewish. My explora-
tion away from this status quo, of an Israel 
politic that is consistent with my values, 
is what led to the intra-communal silenc-
ing of political voice that I experienced 
 

on campus.

I think political dissent is naturally coupled 

with feelings of fear. For me, it was fear of 
political loss, personal isolation and commu-
nal rejection. I decided to sit silent in consent, 
weighed down by others’ constructed realities, 
instead of adhering to my values, my truths, my 
Judaism. But, more important than my own 
fears, identities and intra-communal politics 
are the silenced narratives of Palestinian stu-
dents on campus and our greater complacency 
in the human rights abuse that is Palestinian 
occupation. So while I didn’t dissent that day 
last March, I am dissenting now. I support 
SAFE’s resolution, I support economic sanc-
tions on Israel and I support the validation of 
all narratives.

 Carly Manes is a Public Health senior.

I can sleep when I’m dead 

KAREN 
HUA

You know when someone you hate throws 

a party so you try to get all your friends to not 
go? In my experience, it usually doesn’t work 
that well and you just end up looking like an ass. 
How does the United States feel now that all of 
its friends have ignored its stern warnings and 
joined the Asian Infrastructure and Investment 
Bank anyways? This is the most dramatic 
diplomatic isolation of the United States since 
that whole Operation Iraqi Freedom debacle, so 
hopefully a little like an ass.

In 2014, China laid down $50 billion and its 

signature alongside 22 other Asian countries 
from Kuwait to Indonesia, creating the AIIB to 
finance infrastructure projects in the region. 
The United States tried cashing in on its 
diplomatic ties by coercing its global network 
of allies from joining the bank that has been 
formally endorsed by both the World Bank 
and IMF. Until this month, the tactic seemed 
to be working. But that was before the United 
Kingdom, which many Americans consider 
their closest ally, defected. Today, on the 
membership deadline, virtually every single 
major economy including U.S. allies such as 
Australia, South Korea and an entire concert 
of Western European pals, have joined. The 
only bitter holdouts are the United States, with 
Japan expecting to join.

The State Department’s (and Japan’s, for 

that matter) formal statement against the AIIB 
questions its regulations on issues such as 
environmental protection and human rights 
— how will these be considered when making 
loans? Please spare us these airs and graces. 
Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch 
and various other NGOs have raised noise 
about the shady dealings of these American-
led institutions. John Perkins, a consultant 
who used to work with indebted developing 
countries, described how World Bank and 
IMF loans are almost publicity agreements 
to complement a sweeping privatization and 
deregulation of developing economies to fit 
nicely into the pocketbooks of American and 
European multinational corporations.

And despite their international scope 

and image, the World Bank and IMF are 
undoubtedly American-led institutions. This 
makes perfect sense — they were created in the 
1940s when the U.S. was beginning to assume 
its role as the global hegemon, but that was 70 
years ago. Nothing has changed. Despite being 
the world’s second largest economy, China 
only has only about 5 percent and 4 percent of 
total voting power in the World Bank and IMF, 
respectively, compared to 18 percent in both 
institutions by the United States. Just to put it 
in perspective, only a handful of countries have 
more than 1 percent of voting power in either 
institution, and the United States is the sole 
veto power in the World Bank.

China’s creation of the AIIB was an attempt 

at an institution that would better reflect the 
changing power relations of the modern world. 
This does not exclude the United States. Last 
I checked, the United States is still the world’s 
only superpower, and North Korea was the 
only country whose application was rejected 
from the AIIB. The U.S. blunder has not only 
damaged its credibility with allies, but also 
signaled an appallingly myopic refusal to 
cooperate with Beijing. If the United States is 
truly concerned about those regulatory “best 
practices,” what better way to improve the 
AIIB than from within?

Finally, let’s not forget that because the AIIB 

is a development bank, those who will pay the 
most for America’s inaction are not China, 
but developing countries who will receive aid 
from the AIIB. Investment from the wealthy 
United States would be translated into real 
improvements in the infrastructure developing 
countries. In the future, when AIIB loans start 
flowing across Asia, recipients will remember 
well that despite all the talk by President 
Obama about a pivot to the region, the United 
States was ultimately unwilling to do anything 
meaningful besides play childish popularity 
games.

Brendan Wu is an LSA junior.

BRENDAN WU | VIEWPOINT

Childish popularity games

W

hen I was a kid, the only 
thing I ever wanted to 
be was a comic book art-

ist. I spent hours 
alone in my room 
trying 
to 
copy 

the characters I 
adored, 
creating 

my own and build-
ing stories around 
them. 
Truth 
be 

told, what I really 
wanted was to be 
the superheroes I 
drew, but that was 
unlikely. My crime 
fighting abilities were capped off by 
a general lack of athleticism, and my 
green belt in taekwondo won’t be foil-
ing many villains.

But I could draw — so I sketched out 

characters and told my own stories, 
where I would invent new powers, 
build new teams of super people and 
flip the roles of villain and hero.

Much to my father’s relief, as I got 

older my interests shifted from comic 
books and superheroes to politics, law 
and civil rights. I had my future law 
school pegged down at 17, around the 
same time I found a new standard for 
heroism in the writing and speeches of 
Malcolm X.

Coming to college, I knew exactly 

where I was going: I’d find a life as a 
lawyer and a public servant, while 
— like Malcolm —I would become a 
leader on the vanguard of the fight for 
civil rights. Hell, I even ran for Central 
Student Government with the Defend 
Affirmative Action Party.

Like the comic heroes I drew as a 

kid, the heroes of social movements 
— current and former — do not have 
an easy life. Everyone wants to be 
Superman when he’s vanquishing vil-
lains and basking in the glory of sav-
ing planet Earth, but the life of a hero 
requires constant sacrifice that often 
becomes a burden.

Malcolm X is an icon today, but 

near the end of his life his home was 
firebombed, his friends turned against 
him and he was vilified by people 
Black and white, liberal and conser-
vative. Activists commit their lives to 
a cause, and the most heroic activists 
fight the most challenging, polarizing 

battles. Even for lawyers at well fund-
ed NGOs, the hours are long, the victo-
ries are few and the defeats are many. 
The people who do this kind of work 
often feel compelled, and they have a 
combination of fervor, talent and opti-
mism.

For a while, I thought that I was one 

of these people.

I fell in and out of various causes, 

all of which fit vaguely into the same, 
elaborate daydreams where I com-
mand a massive crowd of protesters 
or argue in front of the U.S. Supreme 
Court. I’ve been to my fair share of 
protests while I’ve been in college, 
typically serving as half demonstrator, 
half spectator.

As a junior, I traveled with other 

Daily writers to Washington, D.C. to 
cover a landmark case on affirmative 
action, an issue still close to my heart. 
Standing on the steps of the Supreme 
Court, Aarica Marsh — now my edi-
tor — and I looked out onto the slew of 
student protesters in red shirts chant-
ing for justice. After taking a few pho-
tos, I reluctantly agreed it was time 
for some interviews and wandered 
nervously into the demonstration. 
Writing my column later that night, 
rather than a screed for racial justice, 
I tried to weigh my support for affir-
mative action with my disillusionment 
toward the radical group BAMN.

Several months later, walking 

through a mostly empty campus, I 
heard chanting and came upon a vocal 
demonstration against the ongoing 
war in Gaza. The protesters demanded 
Palestinian liberation and a boycott of 
Israel. One sign stuck out, thanks in 
part to its neon color and liberal use of 
swastikas.

To protest a Jewish country.
I wanted to know why, and there 

was only one way to find out. My heart 
pounding, I wandered nervously into 
the center of the demonstration, found 
the man, and we spent a few minutes 
arguing. I wrote about it in my col-
umn, and despite my frustrations, I 
felt more knowledgeable because of it.

On March 26, on my way to a lec-

ture, I heard the familiar sounds of 
chanting and saw people on the Diag 
holding signs. Following my intuition, 
I wandered over to the demonstration, 

nervous as ever.

The rally was a warm up for an 

event on the 50th anniversary of the 
Teach-In Movement, this time the 
focus aimed firmly on climate change. 
I knew I had made the right decision 
when I saw a disheveled, unstable 
looking older man (this is an archetype 
of the protest genre) walking around 
with a sign labeled “Israel nuked NY 
City on 9/11.” I bit my knuckles trying 
to hold back my laughter, especially 
as he wandered from the crowd and 
directed his sign at a nearby campus 
tour group. I don’t know what this 
guy was thinking, or if he realized that 
the demonstration was about climate 
change, but if his sign was serious it 
really didn’t matter.

I regained my composure to listen to 

the speaker in the middle of the crowd, 
University alum and former campus 
radical Tom Hayden. I had wanted to 
meet Hayden since I came to Michi-
gan, as he was a legend in both student 
activism and the editorial pages of the 
Daily. After we made our way into the 
auditorium, I cornered Hayden and 
asked him for an interview, hoping my 
invocation of the Daily’s opinion sec-
tion would help me along. After a short 
conversation, Hayden was told he had 
a place reserved in the front. I told him 
I was almost finished, but instead he 
invited me to continue the interview 
among the other VIPs.

We talked for a while about his 

time on campus, then sat and watched 
an almost two-hour event featuring 
“Democracy Now!” host Amy Good-
man. As the program ended, he gave 
some parting words about the line 
between activism and journalism, and 
then he was off. I walked home with 
my adrenaline pumping, shaking my 
head and laughing as I thought about 
what just occurred.

Just like I’ll never get super powers, 

I will likely never be a Malcolm X or a 
Tom Hayden. But there are stories to 
be told, and I enjoy writing them. And 
deep down, I enjoy that feeling in the 
pit of my stomach, as I put one foot 
in front of the other and wander ner-
vously into the unknown.

— James Brennan can be reached 

at jmbthree@umich.edu.

JAMES 
BRENNAN

A Jewish dissent on divestment

CARLY MANES | VIEWPOINT