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.

1 

3 

5 

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

2

4 

COVER BY JAKE WELLINS

