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 — Friday, April 3, 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 I have often found myself drawn to men of color. In high school, a handsome, Black athlete made my body feel something that no white boy in high socks had ever been able to do. My attraction to him was magnetic — and I justified it as such to my white girlfriends who just “weren’t into Black guys.” Being a student at a majority-white high school, I shamefully felt the need to justify my attraction to a minority student by referring to it as “carnal.” It couldn’t just be attraction. It couldn’t avoid explanation. It had to be because my body was heavy with desire, or because he was a great guy. It had to be because of something, because we were different, and because oth- erwise, to my peers, to this world, it wouldn’t make sense. My oldest sister, a college stu- dent at the time, proposed a biologi- cal explanation: “You’re probably attracted to Black guys because bio- logically you want to diversify your gene pool for your offspring.” Freshly immersed in evolutionary anthropology classes, she tended to overanalyze situations that required no analysis. There was the opposing argument that same-race prefer- ences in sexual relationships actu- ally benefitted the biological fitness of one’s offspring. The latter argu- ment, the racist argument, was the one the majority of our white bodies abided by. As I experienced it, conversations on race-based attraction occurred all too much. Over cafeteria lunches, we talked about hook-ups — ones that had happened the weekend before, ones that would happen the following weekend, ones that we wished would happen but never would due to the ever-present, very unscathed social hierarchy of high school. A boy might have said some- thing like, “There’s no one in school that I want to hook up with,” and if on the rare occasion someone pro- posed the option of hooking up with a Black girl, he might have said, “I’m not attracted to Black girls.” Then, directed at the one Black person sitting at the table, he might have added, “No offense.” “No offense” was a phrase used so often, uttered so reflexively, and yet was so overtly offensive. It was said with the ingrained belief that no matter what came before it, as long as it was followed by “no offense,” the person saying something objec- tionable would be absolved. I can’t know what it must have felt like to be a person of color in that situation, lis- tening to an ignorant white kid deem your whole race unattractive, but I can only imagine that it was painful. I won’t deny the fact that like many of my peers, my sexual prefer- ences have at times been reduced to specific racial groups. It’s a deeply concerning reality that no matter the person, no matter how kind or good- looking or smart they are, if they fall into a certain racial category that has been routinely associated with physi- cal dislike, they’re not then consid- ered to be the most “viable mate.” Over Spring Break, my housemates and I traveled to Naples, Florida, for the week. It’s a small town — expen- sive, well manicured, brimming with rich, old white people. We download- ed Tinder for the occasion, having little intention of utilizing it for its intended purpose: a meet-up. One of my housemates, my good friend — a beautiful Indian woman — swiped her fingers across the screen of her phone, sifting through the mounds of Florida preps who had “just moved to Naples, looking for a good time.” After a little while and only a few matches, she set the phone down. “I miss Ann Arbor,” she sighed. “People here are so racist.” It was true. A platform like Tin- der, a dating app governed by the laws of attraction, fosters racism. A person’s face comes into focus on the screen, and if it’s not the color of your liking, you swipe left. No con- sequences. No one judging you for your “inherent” sexual preferences. There’s no need to justify why you did or didn’t swipe left as it applies to race. And this is arguably a more concerning form of racism, the kind hidden behind a screen, the kind that holds no one accountable. So, here is the pivotal question: Is race-based attraction inher- ent, or is it informed by the racial associations that permeate our cul- ture so deeply? When, during my semester spent abroad, I strolled the streets of Havana and received cat calls that often began with hola blanca, “hey white girl,” was I in part being targeted due to my whiteness? Absolutely, because a country so polluted by slavery and racial inequality can only construct a reality in which a white person, the former imperialist, is associat- ed with superiority. And that is only talking about Cuba, not America, where racial inequality exists not only because of our past history, but also because of our present history. It would absolve us of any social responsibility if we denied the fact that attraction is informed by implicit racial biases, because to do so would deny the complex systems of racial inequality and racial con- trol that America has created. For instance, our knowledge of the fact that the majority of incarcerated people in this country are minorities does permit us to form a racist asso- ciation: If you are a person of color, you are more likely to be a criminal. To deny this association is to deny the fact that we are racist because of the complicated racially advised context in which we live. And to deny that is to deny that racism can and should be unlearned. There are arguments suggesting that same-race preference is, in fact, inherent. It’s thought that we are intrinsically attracted to ourselves, and that in unfamiliar situations, we gravitate toward those who look the same as us. This is corroborated by the clumps of people seen walk- ing together on campus, categorized by their skin color, and occasionally sporting their token friend of color. While this might be argued as bio- logical, it doesn’t really matter if it is or isn’t. Same-race-based attraction manifests the assumption that racial difference indicates cultural and economic difference, thus making integration uncomfortable. Our soci- ety has surpassed the need to explain or justify things biologically because we negate our biological needs every day due to technological progress. In which case, it doesn’t matter if there is an innateness to same-race prefer- ence — that preference, regardless of its foundation, has been dramatically shaped by racism. We’re used to relying on our attraction in order to dictate our sexual and romantic pursuits. Attraction feels chemical, and it is, so we go along with it. If it says, “You only like white guys,” then that’s who we seek out — white guys. However, as we abide by what our bodies might tell us without challenging why, in fact, we feel that way, we negate the possibil- ity for our preferences to expand. There’s no use in pretending that we wear no racial lens when at a party, when on a dating app or when we’re noticing someone on the street. But to recognize that lens as problematic is to recognize race-based preference as a problem. This acknowledgment is not intended to instill guilt. Guilt, at its core, is useless. It’s meant to call into question whether or not “just not being into” a specific race is OK. It’s meant to seek an answer as to why we are willing to justify racism on the basis of physical attraction. It’s meant to propel the shedding of certain associations that may have caused you to consider an entire group of people unattractive. Iden- tify those associations. Feed them to yourself. Remember that attraction is based upon so much more than skin. I’ll remember this, too. — Abby Taskier can be reached at ataskier@umich.edu. Dear Michigan Law School community, The #BlackLivesMatter movement does not represent a new fight or a novel message. #BlackLivesMatter is only the current name on an ever-present struggle. The University, in its own right, has struggled with race since this law school was founded, since Gabriel Franklin Hargo received his diploma, since we fought in our nation’s highest court to protect our com- mitment to diversity. The core message of the #BlackLivesMatter movement has always existed in different forms, under different banners, calling attention to the continued racial oppression of minorities in American society. In its most recent iteration, the movement grew in response to the post- humous trial of Trayvon Martin for his own murder. #BlackLivesMatter, per its website, is “Rooted in the experiences of Black people in this country who actively resist our de-human- ization, #BlackLivesMatter is a call to action and a response to the virulent anti-Black racism that permeates our society.” This letter is the University of Michigan Law School community’s contribution to the #BlackLivesMatter National Law Stu- dent Day of Action that occurred on April 2, 2015. It cannot be overstated that critical race and economic discourses in higher educa- tion — especially law school — are at best overlooked and at worst invalidated and misrepresented. Support from faculty and administration is an important institutional validation of students’ desire to self-educate about the legal hardships burdening racial minorities in this country. Law schools have an imperative to take this movement seriously, and to reflect on our own role in perpetuating systems of racial oppres- sion. Beyond reflection, we also have an obliga- tion to take action. The law, truthfully, is both part of the problem and part of the solution. Here, at the University, many student organiza- tions and professors have responded to recent events through activism at the Law School. But we can and must do more. *** We call on our Michigan Law community to achieve the following: First, we ask students to recognize their own power to change the classroom dis- course on race and the law; To demand race-conscious, intersectional conversations in classrooms from professors and each other; To push for a curriculum that challenges students to think creatively about the law, so as to advance color-conscious claims on behalf of clients; To continue to work with one another to shift the collective consciousness of the Law School beyond acknowledgment of racial inequality and toward tangible solutions; To include people of color in student-led pro- gramming; and, To remember that as law students, we are entering a space of privilege and power, and it is our obligation, regardless of our future career paths, to continue to check our own biases and role in perpetuating inequality and oppression. All students, regardless of career path, seek acknowledgement and meaningful inclusiv- ity by students, faculty and administration. As peers, we have an obligation to pursue honest conversations with one another about race and other marginalized identities. Next, we call on faculty to actively take on the challenge of incorporating discus- sions of race into their classrooms and curriculums; To nurture passionate and conscientious stu- dents, who respect each others’ diverse back- grounds and experiences; To talk about race, recognize that the facts of cases matter, especially those involving race, and to include them in discussion. In taking the safest route toward teaching the cases, by avoiding such facts, professors are implicitly teaching students to accept the cases as they stand. Professors control the dialogue, and fear of losing control is not a sufficient justification for ignoring these demands; To reevaluate their pedagogy, regardless of tenure, and incorporate social justice dialogues along the way, not just while discussing Goetz or Dred Scott; To, with administration, recruit and tenure minority faculty, both in gender and race; and, To question the status quo, give historical context to the casebook, and confront the reali- ties of social inequality and injustice head on. The law does not stand separate from the soci- ety and history from which it is produced. If these demands seem shortsighted or too burdensome, we pose these questions to the faculty: If these difficult conversations do not occur during law school, when are students to learn the practical consequences of the cases we study and ultimately litigate? If not now, then at what stage in our legal careers should we open our eyes to the social, political and historical realities that perpetuate racial and class hierarchies? Finally, we call on the Law School admin- istration to support students and faculty in accomplishing these goals. It is an obvious reality that there are sig- nificant hurdles facing minority law school applicants. From the outset, minorities must overcome a variety of economic, educational, social and political hurdles just to get their foot in the door. The racial composition of our Law School, and the legal field at large, unequivo- cally demonstrates this fact. Because of these realities, we ask that the administration continue to recruit minor- ity applicants to our Law School, intentionally providing a culture and classroom that is sup- portive and welcoming to all students, for the benefit of all students. We ask everyone to take a stand. Students, faculty and administrators should be an active voice in the local and national movement — host events, contribute to scholarship, make public statements of support. Keep the momentum alive. Injustice remains. We must act — today. Take a picture of yourself holding a sign that says, “MLaw believes #BlackLive- Matter” and post to social media with the #BlackLivesMatter and #MLaw. *** The University has always taken a leadership role in addressing longstanding racial inequali- ties. In casebooks, we are remembered for reso- lutely defending affirmative action in Grutter v. Bollinger — and we must continue to protect such important principles. Michigan Law is an undeniably special place. Our aim in this letter is to show sup- port for the #BlackLivesMatter movement and improve race-based dialogues and prac- tices within our community. We believe that though much been done already, there is much more that we can do. The following individuals and organizations have endorsed the aforementioned goals: From Michigan Law: Black Law Students Association National Lawyers Guild United Coalition for Racial Justice Michigan Journal of Law Reform Student Rights Project Law Students for Reproductive Justice Michigan Immigration and Labor Law Asso- ciation Michigan Journal of Race & Law Asian Pacific American Law Students Asso- ciation Human Rights Advocates Latino Law Student Association ACLU Student Chapter Other legal organizations and firms: Sugar Law Center for Economic & Social Justice Julie Hurwitz (’82), Partner, Goodman & Hurwitz, P.C. Marilyn Mullane, Director, Michigan Legal Services. John F. Royal, President, National Lawyers Guild, Michigan/Detroit Chapter Written by Law students Meredith Osborne, Miriam Schachter, Sophie Wolman, Jessica Gingold, Amina Kirk, Divya Taneja, Peter Calloway, Jim Thurman and Nick Kabat. Examinng race-based attraction ABBY TASKIER UNITED COALITION FOR RACIAL JUSTICE | VIEWPOINT Take a stand T here may be three games left to go, and the month of March has already come and gone, but without a doubt, I was not a winner of March Mad- ness. Of course, I can take solace in the fact that I have lost along with every single other person who filled out a bracket. Rarely do perfect brackets last beyond the first day of games, and this year was no differ- ent. And for part of the first round, my bracket was about as accurate as a coin flip. A few rounds later, and I can safely say that the $10 I spent on my pool is no more, and such is the punishment for my illegal gam- bling escapades — and also for my poor bracket choices. Since I refuse to blame my own knowledge for my incorrect selec- tions — because why would I ever do that — I’m choosing to blame math instead. Picking blindly from a field of 64 teams, there is roughly a one in 9.2 quintillion chance of picking a perfect bracket. That’s a really big number, and I’m forced to round it because the AP Stylebook probably doesn’t cover what to do with numbers that take three lines of text to print. If you really want- ed to win a billion dollars, you’re better off trying to do it by play- ing the Mega Millions lottery over and over instead of winning War- ren Buffett’s perfect bracket chal- lenge. Even according to the best of C-3P0’s calculations, picking a per- fect bracket is two and a half qua- drillion times more unlikely than navigating the asteroid field. I know, I know, never tell you the odds. After all, a little bit of basket- ball knowledge is better than blind picking, and there is the wealth of an entire Internet of statistics and research in your arsenal. FiveThir- tyEight calculated its bracket predictions this year using every statistical source at their disposal, so surely they have a chance at get- ting it right. And well, they do: by their estimations, they have a one in 1,610,543,269 chance. So, you’re telling me there’s a chance? Probably not. That friend in your pool who picked teams by the ferocity of their mascots and was sitting in a cool third place after the first round is proof enough — yes, University of Alabama at Birmingham Blazers, I’m look- ing at your first-round upset and your dragon mascot. Meanwhile, the hour I spent looking up team research, log5 analyses and statis- tics galore might as well have been spent watching Jimmy Fallon lip- sync videos. Yet it’s the same cruel element of chance that makes March Mad- ness, well, mad. It’s looking up in the lecture hall and seeing all the computers throughout the audito- rium watching Georgia Tech come back and upset Baylor. Excitement brought from the same mechan- ics as picking a card from a deck or rolling the dice, realized in the extravagance of a sporting event. The numbers and formulas become irrelevant, replaced with the reality they tried to describe. Chance is the drive of the thrill of everyday life. We’re all Charlie Bucket, asking, “I’ve got the same chance as anybody else, haven’t I?” Chance itself is the Golden Ticket, the device that takes the ordinary and gives it a chance to be extraor- dinary. It takes the monotony and makes it into something undeter- minable. Sometimes the only cer- tainty is the existence of inevitable uncertainty, the anticipation of not knowing what lies behind the choc- olate bar wrapper. This principle of uncertainty governs everything around us, to the point where we conclude that Schrodinger’s cat is both alive and dead, and that’s somehow OK. You can continue spinning the wheel, around and around, knowing that in the moment you’re spinning it you are in control, and the moment you let go you relinquish it all. So you roll the dice, pick up whatever card is on top of the deck, pass Go, collect your $200 and go at it again. Because all you really need is a chance. — David Harris can be reached at daharr@umich.edu. All you need is a chance DAVID HARRIS — President Barack Obama said of the nuclear deal struck with Iran on April 2. In exchange for loosened economic sanctions, Iran agreed to reduce its nuclear program. “ NOTABLE QUOTABLE I am confident that we can show that this deal is good for the security of the United States, for our allies and for the world.”