The University of Michigan is known as one of the premier
research universities in the world. Here we honor five of the
science leaders who once walked the halls of Angell.
2B
Magazine Editor:
Ian DIllingham
Deputy Editor:
Natalie Gadbois
Design Editor:
Jake Wellins
Photo Editor:
Luna Anna Archey
Illustrator:
Megan Mulholland
Maggie Miller
Editor in Chief:
Jennifer Calfas
Managing Editor:
Lev Facher
Copy Editors:
Hannah Bates
Laura Schinagle
Emma Sutherland
THE statement
THE LIST
EDGAR “TED” CODD
After graduation Codd worked for IBM, where he invented
the relational model for database management — one of
those things we all use everyday but no one knows about.
TONY FADELL
Among other storied accomplishments, Fadell invented the
i-Pod. We’re sure the first song he played was “Hail to
the Victors.”
SANJAY GUPTA
Currently CNN Chief Medical Correspondent, in 1988
Gupta was another harried undergrad trying to Orgo.
THIS WEEK AT THE DAILY
BUZZFEED, BUT BETTER
SCIENTIFIC VISIONARIES FROM THE ‘U’
APOLLO 15 CREW
An all-Wolverine crew, the three alumni on this 1971 mission
to the moon made sure to leave a charter of the “U-M
Alumni Club of the Moon” on the ol’ ball of cheese.
ANTONIA NOVELLO
This 1974 grad was the first female U.S. Surgeon
General, part of a illustrious group of trailblazing
Wolverine women.
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Wednesday, April 1, 2015 // The Statement
S
tand in the inescapable rain
and
question
everything.
Then once you’ve figured it
out, question it again. Stop on the
corner of Main Street and watch
the white walking signal turn to
red, then back again to white. Sit
down next to a man playing the vio-
lin with a wolf mask on his face and
listen for a few hours, because the
city is talking to you.
Most of the time, Ann Arbor
spins me in circles and leaves me
dizzy, forces my eyes shut after
long days and then somehow man-
ages to force them open again every
morning with the eastward sun.
Most days, the only word I want to
use to describe Ann Arbor doesn’t
sound flowery — Ann Arbor is not
beautiful or alive or freeing, it’s
lonely.
In four weeks, Ann Arbor will
be rid of a huge percentage of stu-
dents following the end of the win-
ter term, but the 40,000 here now
already make me feel like I’m the
only living thing for miles. Stand-
ing on the Diag on the hour, it’s like
everyone around me is a different
species or worse, playing an entire-
ly different game with rules no one
bothered to tell me.
It’s April 1 and I’m not in the jok-
ing mood. I would be overjoyed to
write about the warm sun and how
it feels for spring to have finally
sprung, but it
hasn’t. As I am
writing this, it
is overcast and
the
weather
predicts
ice
showers
and
lows
of
15
degrees for the
coming week.
Ignore
everything
I’ve
written
so far about
the
hidden
treasures Ann
Arbor
holds
just
await-
ing
discov-
ery,
because
the
seasonal
depression
everyone
talks
about is real and it hit hard on
myself and on my peers in the past
month as we all wait for one warm
weekend. Ann Arbor is cold, and
our relationship mirrors that of my
relationship with the Ross boy who
sleeps next to me on Friday nights
— once a week it’s pretty great, but
most of the time I could take it or
leave it.
I see photos of Pasadena taken
on my brother’s iPhone that induce
dreams of California beaches and
rollerblades and burgers that don’t
taste like they’ve previously been
frozen longer than I’ve been alive.
Ann Arbor is cold, and it will
not be sympathetic to you. It is
recklessly ambiguous and will be
heartlessly honest with you when
you are indeed wearing that mini
skirt in the middle of January or
you go to NYPD for a slice and the
guy serving it to you knows you by
name. Ann Arbor will tell you when
you’ve got a problem and I know
because I get told a hell of a lot by
this city that I am in the wrong.
That what I want is wrong or that
I made a mistake, a quick reminder
that my mother is 800 miles away
and there will be no warm dinner
waiting in the oven for me tonight
and there will be no one to stop me
from standing on the street looking
like a lost puppy, watching colors
turn until things make sense.
And then I remember that this
is exactly what I’ve always wanted.
The loneliness that follows the first
few years of freedom is normal; at
the very least we can take solace
in knowing we are surrounded by
seas of people who all feel alone.
The Keds I got just three years ago
remind me that, while Ann Arbor
has gone around the sun time and
time again, twenty is a new decade
for me, so it might be alright to not
be quite so hard on ourselves. Ann
Arbor is the city a whole lot of peo-
ple live in alone for the first time,
taking our proverbial virginities
and welcoming us to reality.
It’s unbearable at times, but the
truth is, you never forget your first.
Becoming a Townie: Ann Arbor sucks
B Y E M M A K E R R
ILLUSTRATIONS BY MEGAN MULHOLLAND
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COVER BY JAKE WELLINS