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
4A — Thursday, April 9, 2015

Claire Bryan, Regan Detwiler, Rabab Jafri, Ben Keller, 

Payton Luokkala, Aarica Marsh, Victoria Noble, Michael Paul, 

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

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

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

W

e 
were 
40 
minutes 

into an 11 a.m. lecture 
for Bible as Literature 

when our profes-
sor, Ralph Wil-
liams, 
offered 

another one of his 
“Williamsisms.” 
It was in the thick 
of a complicated, 
careful 
analysis 

on the theological 
necessity of the 
annihilation 
of 

the first genera-
tion of Israelites 
in the wilderness 
(in Numbers, precluding the entry 
into the promised land at Canaan). 
It was the sort of aphorism that, 
thrust off-hand, I almost missed 
amidst my grasping to keep up with 
the narrative, the details, the char-
acters and the chronology. But this 
one was a diamond in the rough, a 
needle in the haystack, a pearl in 
the sand, whatever idiom suits your 
fancy. A biggy. I’ll get back to it.

Impossibility 
is 
an 
obscure, 

transient notion. Long have phi-
losophers sought to explain that 
which defies the laws, the mental 
framework within which we live 
our lives. Take Isaac Newton, for 
example, who posited much of the 
foundational 
physics 
principles 

upon which modern theory rests. 
During his time, the concept of the 
presence and interaction of “invis-
ible forces” as a medium guiding 
much of the observable phenomena 
was truly implausible and impossi-
ble. In the words of Williams: “Oh” 
(i.e. “they really swung and missed 
on that one?”)

Indeed, it seems, something is only 

impossible until it can be explained. 
Impossibility withers in the face of 
reason, removed from the precipice 
of the miraculous and placed within 
the realm of the conceptual. In this 
way, impossibility is but a temporary 

asterisk marking that which we do 
not yet understand.

So, why does any of this long-

winded musing on the nature of 
impossibility matter? Well, it’s nec-
essary in order to gain an apprecia-
tion that the impossible is overcome 
every day.

History is flush with this storyline. 

Light could not be explained until 
Louis de Broglie and David Bohm 
articulated the wave-particle dual-
ity. No sprinter could run a mile in 
less than four minutes until Roger 
Bannister did. Pictures could not 
move until Georges Meliés and oth-
ers made the first movies. No pitcher 
could throw faster than 102 miles 
per hour until Aroldis Chapman did. 
Hell, hepatitis C could not be cured 
until Sovaldi until its approval in 
2013. The plot of history’s “impos-
sibles” is canonical and repetitive: “it 
could not happen, until, well, it did.”

Albert Einstein put this concep-

tion of impossibility (while at the 
center of a heated debate between 
science and religion) a particularly 
eloquent way: “To sense that behind 
anything that can be experienced 
there is something that our mind 
cannot grasp and whose beauty and 
sublimity reaches us only indirectly 
and as a feeble reflection, this is reli-
giousness … In this sense I too am 
religious, with the reservation that 
‘cannot grasp’ does not have to mean 
‘forever ungraspable.’ ”

In other words, Einstein believed 

that religion and science reflect 
a rather similar fascination with 
understanding the impossible.

That is, until we, inevitably, 

grasp it.

I know, I know. I’m a little bit off 

the deep end right now. So let me 
come back to that Williamsism, if 
you’ll let me. In that 40th minute, 
Ralph stated, simply and as only he 
can, that “possibility is only bounded 
by the imagination.”

Put another way: you think, there-

fore you may be. Conversely, deem-
ing something impossible is a form 
of creative apathy. It’s a label used to 
qualify an anomalous phenomenon. 
It’s a manifestation of intellectual 
arrogance, a claim that the current 
framework of comprehension is the 
right, and the only, one.

Of course, if there’s one immu-

table historical truth, it’s that things 
happen, facts emerge, and minds 
change. Indeed, the impossible is as 
malleable and temporary as the lens 
through which we view it. Wow! (As 
an aside, if you haven’t registered yet, 
I’d go take one of his classes.)

In other news, this is my last offi-

cial column for The Michigan Daily. 
In my time writing, I’ve addressed 
many different topics, including once 
providing a reflection on some of the 
career decisions I’ve made, coupled 
with some advice. I would be remiss 
if I didn’t add one last nugget, one 
that Adidas popularized a few years 
back: “Impossible is nothing.”

Here’s what I make of the tagline: 

“impossible,” as a label, is nothing. 
It’s meaningless, an excuse for a void 
of knowledge or of skill. And inverse-
ly, impossible is no thing. No thing is 
impossible. It’s just as Coach Holtz 
(and Mom) said it: “Nothing is impos-
sible … if you put your mind to it.”

I always loved “Hardy Boys” and 

“Scooby Doo” as a kid. And this idea 
— that the most distant challenges 
are but mysteries waiting to be solved 
— is tremendously inspiring. I hope 
you find it as empowering as I do as 
you move forward with your life.

Actually, one more thing, before 

I sign off, that I would regret if I 
didn’t do. I want to thank my read-
ers for the attention, for the support 
and for giving me the opportunity 
to grow up through this newspaper 
these four years.

Thank you. It means the world.

— Eli Cahan can be reached 

at emcahan@umich.edu.

On impossibilities

ELI
CAHAN

A great first step

Other student groups should get involved with BSU initiative
T

he Michigan Institute for the Improvement of African 
American Representation, a committee within the University’s 
Black Student Union, has organized a program to host 46 high 

school students from Kalamazoo Public Schools for three days at the 
University. Led by Will Royster, an LSA and Engineering junior and the 
BSU academic concerns committee chair, the purpose of the program is 
to encourage underrepresented minorities to apply to and enroll in the 
University. This initiative is beneficial for both the high school students 
and for the University as a whole. To keep expanding the program, as 
the BSU is currently in the works of doing, other student organizations 
should become involved in the initiative.

During their three-day stay, the high school 

students are given the opportunity to tour 
campus, participate in an SAT workshop and 
hear from admissions counselors. To participate 
in the program, students are expected to have 
a GPA of at least 3.0 and submit a 300-word 
essay. This requirement provides students with 
possibly their first experience writing college 
admissions essays.

The program allows students to envision 

themselves 
as 
future 
Wolverines 
by 

providing social activities for them, including 
opportunities to interact with different student 
organizations on campus and hear from an 
alum. The program also strives to connect the 
high school students with current students 
from the same area.

When talking about the program in an 

interview with the Daily, Royster stressed 
the importance of the program for minority 
students. “We want to allow them to acclimate 
to the culture and make them passionate about 
the University,” Royster said. “We want them to 
envision themselves at the University.”

Furthermore, 
this 
initiative 
provides 

an opportunity for the University to work 
toward 
increasing 
minority 
enrollment 

without violating Proposal 2, which prohibits 

affirmative action at Michigan universities. 

The program’s goal to increase enrollment 

of students within underrepresented groups 
has many merits. With a more diverse 
population, students will benefit from an 
environment in which ideas are fostered from 
people of varying backgrounds. If students are 
never exposed to individuals who come from 
different backgrounds than their own, they 
are limited by a lack of new perspectives. The 
purpose of higher minority enrollment is to 
promote inclusiveness, prevent discrimination 
and decrease the marginalization of minority 
voices on campus. Additionally, an increase in 
minority students will allow the University 
to better serve the state of Michigan and hold 
the University more accountable to the public 
it is serving.

Similar programs may be implemented in 

the future alongside the expansion of BSU’s 
program. While this is the first semester 
the BSU initiative will take place and the 
number of enrollees seems minimal, the 
program serves as a great first step to increase 
minority enrollment. Both the Central Student 
Government and the University should support 
this program in all possible ways and work with 
BSU toward its upcoming expansion.

FROM THE DAILY

D

ear young, impressionable, 
just-turned-18-three-days-
ago me,

College is a new 

beginning for you, 
and you need the 
change it provides. 
You’re 
nervous 

now but also excit-
ed to be in Ann 
Arbor, a place with 
thousands of new 
faces and many 
new freedoms.

College is going 

to be different. You 
say this in your 
head now, but soon you’ll understand 
how much truth this mantra holds. 
You’re going to grow apart from peo-
ple you don’t currently want to lose. 
You’re going to grow close to people 
with whom you didn’t think you had 
anything in common initially. People 
and problems that seem so central to 
your life today will be a minor blip on 
your radar by senior year.

The biggest problem you’ll tackle 

is figuring out what to study. During 
Campus Day you heard about the 
Ford School, and you’ll end up 
choosing this path. It’ll be a good 
experience and you’ll meet some 
amazing people, but you’re not going 
to have a thing like everyone else. You 
won’t suddenly become passionate 
about saving the environment or 
changing the tax code or fixing labor 
laws. You’ll choose health policy as 
your focus area, mainly because you 
took an amazing public health class 
that made you change the way you 
view political problems.

Ultimately, though, you’ll realize 

health policy isn’t what will get you 
out of bed in the morning.

So you’ll look at possible minors to 

supplement your Ford School experi-
ence. You like a lot of different things, 
so it’s going to be hard to choose just 
one. One day, while you’re sitting in 
Rackham, you’ll stumble across the 
Sweetland Minor in Writing. You like 
writing, so you’ll decide to apply. By 
senior year, you will be confident that 
it was the best decision you made at 
Michigan. You’re a writer even now, 
sitting on your twin XL bed in your 
unfamiliar room, but you don’t have 
the courage to admit it yet. The first 
time you say it out loud, though, it’ll 
seem like you’ve gained the mental 
clarity for which you’ve been search-

ing since you arrived on campus.

Your writing classes will be 

treasured spaces where you can be 
vulnerable, where you can share. 
You’ll want to thank each one of your 
peers who took the time to read your 
writing and give you critiques and 
encourage you, but it’ll be difficult 
to convey how much that means 
to you. “Hey, smart people!” your 
professor will write when she sends 
out announcements to the class. We 
are a group of smart people, you’ll 
think. I am smart.

Each year you are enrolled at 

Michigan is going to be different 
from the last. Really different, 
actually. Most of this is because each 
year you’ll spend most of your time 
with a different group of people. 
Right now you share campus with 
your brother, but that will end by 
middle of junior year when you head 
to Washington D.C. for a semester. 
You’ll miss being able to drive to 
Zingerman’s on a Sunday and talk 
about whatever is on your mind with 
him, but luckily, you’re going to end 
up about an hour and a half away 
from each other after graduation. 
South Quad is a great spot for now, 
but next year you’ll live in the 
sorority house and spend a lot of time 
with Pledge Class 2011. You’ll spend 
most of junior year in D.C., living 
with Fordies and PoliSci majors. 
Senior year, you’ll live all over Ann 
Arbor (I’d tell you that story, too, but 
I signed a nondisclosure agreement 
which prohibits me from doing so).

You’re going to join a sorority 

in a few weeks, and you’ll wonder 
whether or not you fit into the house 
you got a bid from. The girls in the 
house are “chill.” You are most defi-
nitely not chill. Then you’ll realize 
chil in this context means you’re 
going to have fun with these peo-
ple whether you’re out on a Foot-
ball Saturday or lying in the Green 
Room on a Wednesday watching 
“Good Will Hunting.” Your best 
friend in the house will be the same 
kind of hyper/chill hybrid as you.

You don’t know yet, but next year, 

the girl you met during orientation 
will walk around Pike in her pajamas 
with you at midnight on a Friday 
because she knows you just had your 
heart ripped out of your chest by 
someone you thought would be in 
your life forever. A year later, you’ll 
laugh about how ridiculous you two 

probably looked, you sobbing down 
Oxford and her wearing a bright-
orange shirt with “sober monitor” 
written on the back.

Also, 
an 
important 
tip 
for 

sophomore year: don’t sign up for 
Honors Calculus.

You’re a freshman who thinks she 

wants to live in New York City one 
day, but in two years you’re going 
to intern in D.C. and randomly be 
assigned a roommate. She’ll be the 
most ridiculous, spirited and enter-
taining friend you’ll have during 
your time at the University, and 
you will share many inside jokes 
that make you laugh until you can’t 
breathe. You’ll live together in D.C. 
again a few months later, and get 
into more trouble. You’ll also make 
a friend who will join in your com-
plaints about Shake Shack chang-
ing their fries, watch kids movies 
on Saturday mornings while you 
recover from drinking one too many 
on Friday nights and take an entire 
album worth of selfies with you dur-
ing your semester in Washington.

You’re struggling to make friends 

now, but in a few weeks, a tall girl 
from Midland will run into the 
room where you happen to be hang-
ing with your new friends. She’ll 
explain how she’s currently sex-
iled and introduce herself, and by 
senior year it’ll be difficult to avoid 
crying with her anytime someone 
talks about graduation. Next year, 
a girl will introduce herself, saying 
she knows you through a friend of 
a friend, and senior year you’ll be 
there for each other when you each 
need a friend the most.

But you don’t know any of this 

currently, as you lie in bed at 
night and let a few tears fall down 
your face. You are just a homesick 
freshman — nervous, but also 
excited to see what the next four 
years will bring. You’re the unedited 
version of the person you’ll become 
in the next four years, the first cut 
of many revisions you’ll make to 
yourself without even realizing it. 
You’re going to grow and you’re 
going to thrive, so get ready for the 
next four years of your life. They’ll 
be over in the blink of an eye.

Go Blue,
Katie

— Katie Koziara can be reached 

at kkoziara@umich.edu.

A letter to myself on move-in day

C

ollege education is a mixture of choice, 
effort, perception and circumstance. 
Academically speaking, you can only 

choose from the classes 
offered: this is our circum-
stance. We choose our cours-
es, decide the level of time 
and effort we will invest in 
class and rate the course 
based on our subjective per-
ceptions of what education 
should look like.

A student can choose to 

pursue paths of knowledge 
acquisition or skill honing — 
academic “excellence” or a 
focus on experience-based learning. But often, 
for me, the question is, “How much will you 
remember when you leave?” Will you remem-
ber the historical events you learned, or the 
social justice concepts you dialogued about?

Will the academic habit you hang on to the 

longest be your new coffee addiction?

I wasn’t sure what I came to the University 

for, to be honest. I thought maybe it was to hone 
my writing skills or to learn about how and why 
the earth was being destroyed (along with how 
to prevent destruction). Alongside the “liberal 
arts education” came the idea that I was going 
to college to learn how to learn, to grow as a 
well-rounded human and to become more eli-
gible for the working world.

I did learn many things here. I took a wide 

array of classes that helped me understand dif-
ferent ways of looking at the world and under-
standing humanity. I took classes about writing 
and the earth. I also took classes that taught me 
more about gender, health, race, socioeconomic 
status and Afro-Cuban drumming. They taught 
me more about being perceptive and critical of 
the changing world around me.

However, the classes that made my experi-

ence here uniquely impactful were the classes 
that existed off the beaten trail. These classes 
understood the earth and the human mind as 
concepts that did not fit into textbooks, but 
rather as entities that flourished from creative 
environments of freedom and dialogue. They 
encouraged self-exploration and deep curiosity.

From these classes, I gained an understand-

ing of a different life perspective — one that 
embraced the earth as a grounding life force. 
I gained an understanding of meditation and 
compassion as a type of spirituality. This spiri-
tuality deeply resonated with me. Coming into 
school, I had strong values and convictions, but 
coming out, I better understand how to nurture 
this sense of self.

I highly recommend these classes at the Uni-

versity. In Jazz 450 with Martha Travers in 
School of the Music, Theatre & Dance, students 

learn mindful meditation, how to connect more 
deeply with nature and different ways of coping 
with our daily tedium.

In Psychology of Spirituality with Richard 

Mann, students become friends as they sit in a 
circle and learn about the nuances of navigating 
life as humans.

Environment, Sustainability and Social 

Change, taught to first-years by James 
Crowfoot, a professor and dean emeritus 
in the School of Natural Resources, helps 
freshmen commune with nature in an 
incredibly accessible way.

Writing and the Environment with Aric 

Knuth encourages students to write about their 
nature-based recollections and share their expe-
rience with classmates.

Through these classes, I found meaning, 

calm and purpose with a new understand-
ing of how I can interact with the earth and of 
the anchor the earth can provide me. I learned 
methods of walking and sitting meditation. I 
learned how to greet the elements and how 
to take in others’ life stories. These classes 
spanned beyond the usual limits of the college 
classroom. These classes based themselves in 
dialogue and experience. In circles, we talked 
about our personal journeys.

I learned how to think deeply about the meta-

phors around me.

As a high school student, I perceived societal 

success as my ultimate goal. These are the goals 
set for you by the people around you rather 
than by what you determine makes you happy. 
I set about achieving the highest grades, play-
ing varsity sports, taking many standardized 
tests, joining clubs and not sleeping. I was very 
stressed and very miserable. My most frequent 
emotion during that time was anger.

I went into university knowing that I did not 

want to treat my body and spirit like that again. 
Striving to meet society’s pre-set goals was not 
my personal path to happiness. This much I 
knew. What I needed to find out then was what 
would make me happy.

My professors in these classes didn’t have the 

same rules as others. Their highest concern was 
not whether you ended the semester with an A; 
rather, whether or not you grew as a person.

Learning about my spirituality was my real 

education. I find life lessons in the path these 
professors set me on. If you are still continuing 
your journey at the University, I highly suggest 
finding classes that speak to you along with 
the mandatory requirements. It’s possible that 
it won’t be the classes for your major that are 
embedded deep in your memory, but the classes 
you took for you.

—Maris Harmon can be reached 

at marhar@umich.edu.

My real education

MARIS 
HARMON

KATIE 
KOZIARA

