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

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The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Friday, April 10, 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

S

omething strange happened in 
my class the other day. It was 
the standard Monday start to 

my first-year semi-
nar, with our pro-
fessor asking us 
about our weekend 
and then proceed-
ing to tell us a little 
bit about her own. 
There was a faint 
buzz 
of 
talking 

around our round 
table until the pro-
fessor announced 
that she was plan-
ning on getting rid of her fridge. For 
the first time all semester, our class 
was completely silent. We were in 
shock. Our professor, a seemingly 
sane woman, was getting rid of her 
fridge? Her explanation of being more 
sustainable, conserving energy and 
being forced to eat fresh local foods 
— because frozen foods are entirely 
pointless without their partner in 
crime — fell on deaf ears. Even I was 
horrified, and I have been writing this 
column all semester hoping for people 
to make changes like that.

We were not whipped into a state of 

complete frenzy because of some deep 
emotional connection to the fridges 
in our lives. It also wasn’t because we 
are against sustainable actions — my 
first-year seminar is about psychology 
and the environment! We have spent 

the entire semester talking about steps 
toward being more sustainable. And 
yet, when our professor suggested 
making a tangible, sustainable change, 
we acted like she told us she was plan-
ning on selling her oldest daughter 
into slavery.

So, why did we act this way? Why do 

people act this way all the time when 
anything seems new or different? I 
think it’s because somewhere deep 
inside of us, we are afraid of change. 
We cling to the status quo like it will 
save us from all the world’s problems, 
even when we know it won’t. And even 
when we know there are changes that 
we can make to live a more sustain-
able, eco-friendly life, we don’t always 
take them.

I know I am a huge culprit of this 

— and I always wonder why. Why 
do I leave my computer on all night 
even though I know it is sucking up 
ridiculous amounts of energy? Why 
don’t I tell the person at the check-
out counter that I actually don’t 
need that 1,000,000,000th plastic 
bag? Why did it take me two weeks 
to change my water bottle after I 
learned about the horrors of plastic 
(don’t get me started)?

Somehow, the Monday Fridge 

Debacle gave me an answer. People 
just don’t like change, even if that 
change will be positive and help us 
and the world. It is very difficult to 
step out of the deeply grooved path 

we cut for ourselves day in and day 
out. We tried to convince her to keep 
her fridge. “What about milk?!” we 
cried. “What about leftovers! What 
about ice cream!”

And even though our professor had 

explanations and answers for each 
and every one of our concerns — she 
assured us that adults don’t need milk, 
she would make smaller portions and 
she would walk to the ice cream shop 
— we still just couldn’t deal with the 
idea of not having a fridge. There are 
certain staples in our lives, like fridges, 
that we have intense connections to 
because of the sense of normalcy they 
add to our lives.

But maybe it is time for a new nor-

mal. If we push past our natural resis-
tance to change and take a step into the 
unknown, what was once deeply alien 
and horrifying will eventually become 
the thing we resist to change. I mean, 
I’m sure the first person that came 
up with the idea for a fridge came up 
against a mountain of opposition.

All change is opposed at first, and 

yet all change eventually does happen. 
So if you hear a new idea, after allow-
ing an acceptable amount of resistance 
and freak out time — for my seminar it 
was about 10 minutes — try to see how 
that change could fit into your life or 
even make your life better.

— Eliana Herman can be reached 

at eherman@umich.edu.

Refrigerator resistance

ELIANA
HERMAN

U

ntil this week, I had heard UMix dis-
cussed on campus probably twice. The 
first was from a member of Res Staff 

advertising the University’s 
program for substance-free 
Friday night fun to me and my 
freshmen peers. The second 
was from some friends who 
went in search of free food, 
only to find it had all been 
eaten up before they arrived.

This week, UMix was cata-

pulted out of arguable irrel-
evance and into the national 
media spotlight after becom-
ing central to a controversy 
that attracted national attention. I’m fairly confi-
dent that an alcohol-free college party has never 
generated so much buzz.

It all started with a group of about 200 stu-

dents, who signed a letter saying that “Ameri-
can Sniper,” scheduled to be shown at the event, 
promotes damaging stereotypes about Middle 
Eastern and North African students. The Center 
for Campus Involvement — which hosts UMix — 
responded by cancelling the screening, and justi-
fied their decision in a Facebook statement that 
said, “Student reactions have clearly articulated 
that this is neither the venue nor the time to show 
this movie.” They also planned to hold a separate 
event to view and discuss the film.

The decision generated uproar from campus 

conservatives — and one particularly pissed-off 
Fox News pundit — who felt the decision lim-
ited students’ ability to freely discuss the topics 
portrayed in the film. They filed an ultimately-
successful counter-petition to reschedule the 
UMix showing.

I’m going to preface the rest of my column 

by saying that I firmly believe that Chris Kyle, 
the decorated Navy SEAL central to the film, is 
a hero. His work — both as a soldier fighting for 
the United States and as a philanthropist com-
mitted to helping veterans readjust to life after 
the war — was selfless, praiseworthy and brave. 
But I have never seen “American Sniper,” and this 
column is not about the film’s portrayal of Kyle or 
any cultural group.

It’s about the endemic debate about free 

speech on campus.

The debate intensified when the school failed 

to sanction a department head for writing a col-
umn stating that she hated Republicans. Some of 
the same students who called for the professor’s 
removal for this discriminatory speech later took 
to Twitter, Facebook, the blogosphere and of 
course, Fox News, to claim that the University’s 
Inclusive Language Campaign — which sim-
ply encouraged students to avoid tossing about 
words like “fag” and “retard” — was a freedom of 
speech violation.

Now, those same students have drawn even 

more negative attention to the University for 
rescheduling a controversial film, labeling it a 
transgression against their freedom of thought 
and expression, and an exercise of control by the 
University “thought police.” “Warning: Liberal 
Thought Police” also appeared on a sign advertis-
ing an event hosted by the Young Americans for 
Freedom earlier this semester.

Though the “American Sniper” dispute is 

resolved, it represents a great opportunity to 
explore what “thought police” really means, how 
it applies at our school and freedom of speech 
more generally.

The idea of university “thought police” prob-

ably comes from UWM Post v. Board of Regents 
of the University of Wisconsin System, a 1991 
Federal Court case. UWM Post struck down the 

University of Wisconsin-Madison’s ban on “rac-
ist or discriminatory” speech that was directed 
at an individual and created an “intimidating, 
hostile or demeaning environment,” according 
to the case. The majority opinion noted, “the sup-
pression of speech, even where the speech’s con-
tent appears to have little value and great costs, 
amounts to governmental thought control.”

I’d have to agree.
Most of the recent free speech controver-

sies have surrounded efforts (or lack of efforts) 
by the University to discourage speech that 
lessens the discomfort that minority students 
may feel on campus. In my view, that’s a wor-
thy goal. But limiting the content of speech to 
achieve it? I think that’s a pretty bad idea — 
plus it’s illegal anyway under the UWM Post 
decision, among others.

But that’s not what the school has been doing, 

and claims that it has are unfounded. The Inclu-
sive Language Campaign comes the closest to 
the “governmental thought control” described in 
the UWM Post case. The Campaign encouraged, 
not mandated, students to use more respectful 
words, effectually attempting to influence the 
content of speech, but not control it.

But rescheduling “American Sniper?” That 

doesn’t even come close. The University didn’t 
ban the film. They simply rescheduled its show-
ing for a time and place decidedly more appropri-
ate than UMix.

UMix is the University’s big Friday night 

event to help students “interact responsibly,” 
according to the CCI website. The other activi-
ties featured alongside “American Sniper” 
include making a Build-A-Bear, playing bingo 
and decorating picture frames.

The students who petitioned the University to 

reschedule the film argued that removing it from 
UMix programming would stifle dialogue on the 
subject. I’ve never been to UMix, but I seriously 
question how much serious, thoughtful debate 
could be reasonably expected to occur at a Friday 
night arts-and-crafts party.

The University can limit when and where 

students speak — lecture would be a nightmare 
if they didn’t. But students limit each other’s 
speech far more often. Have you ever tried 
to talk politics at a party? At least one person 
probably told you to stop — or at least that has 
been my experience.

But few people would argue that constitutes 

a speech violation. In social situations, it’s just 
accepted that there’s a time and a place for heavy, 
controversial discussion … and that time or place 
isn’t a Friday night hangout.

The University has rescheduled “American 

Sniper,” and it will be shown at tonight’s UMix 
as originally scheduled. But that doesn’t mean 
we should stop discussing the issue. Foster-
ing a safe, happy educational environment for 
all students and respecting the value of free 
speech are often two conflicting aims. Deter-
mining which balance between those two 
goals will be reflected on campus is likely to 
provoke ongoing, contentious debate.

The University has made up its mind on the 

movie, but this issue was never really about the 
movie. Rather, it’s about determining the type 
of school we want to live and learn at. Hope-
fully, when this issue resurfaces, students will 
take time to define the roles they want inclu-
sivity and free speech to play in our campus 
community. It’s a decision that will take mean-
ingful, thoughtful discussion, and it’s one that 
we should make for ourselves.

— Victoria Noble can be reached 

at vjnoble@umich.edu.

More than the movie

A writer’s advice for the new generation

VICTORIA
NOBLE

R

enowned short story writer, 
novelist and essayist Cyn-
thia Ozick recently authored 

an article titled, 
“Writers 
Old 

and Young: Star-
ing 
Across 
the 

Moat” 
for 
The 

New York Times. 
Ozick’s 
piece 

itself 
embodies 

the argument she 
makes, 
dripping 

with literary ref-
erences that both 
color and convo-
lute her essay. Sifting through her 
allusions, I found myself eventually 
agreeing with her somewhat pomp-
ous, yet founded sentiments.

In a response for The New Repub-

lic, Phoebe Maltz Bovy wrote from the 
young writer perspective, “In what 
might be the most highbrow get-off-
my-lawn ever written … fiction writer 
and essayist Cynthia Ozick complains 
in The New York Times that today’s 
young writers aren’t content to wait 
their turn.” I disagree with the con-
tention that Ozick is complaining, and 
I instead read her piece as more of a 
poetic warning.

While Maltz Bovy accurately iden-

tifies that changes in infrastructure — 
namely technological and economic 
developments — have influenced the 
shift that Ozick discusses, in doing so 
she attests that Ozick’s cultural con-
tentions are moot. Ozick does fail to 
mention the role of technology and 
economic pressures, but her cultural 
perceptions are nevertheless both 
poignant and on point.

Ozick writes, “Aspiration is not the 

same as ambition. Ambition forgets 
mortality; old writers never do. Ambi-
tion wants a career; aspiration wants a 
room of one’s own. Ambition feeds on 
public attention; aspiration is impervi-
ous to crowds.” Ambition is the desire 
to be successful, powerful or famous; 

aspiration is a strong desire to achieve 
something high or great.

I clung to the idea of these char-

acterizations. Though the difference 
between the two may seem minute, 
Ozick’s implications are grand. Ambi-
tion is a desire for a type of success 
that is legitimized by the approval 
of others; aspiration is a desire to 
fulfill a personal conviction that is 
unconcerned with circulation num-
bers or page views. Young writers 
are consumed with careerism and 
 

self-advertisement, not ideas.

Ozick continues, “Old writers in 

their youth understood themselves to 
be apprentices to masters superior in 
seasoned experience, and were ready 
to wait their turn in the hierarchy of 
recognition. In their lone and hard-
ened way of sticking-to-it, they were 
unwaveringly industrious; network-
ing, the term and the scheme, was 
unknown to them.”

As to say, there are no shortcuts 

— or there shouldn’t be. Do not rub 
elbows with old writers in an attempt 
to receive a handout or leg up, but rath-
er do so in order to learn from their 
breadth of experience. There is honor 
and importance in being an appren-
tice, and it is not a step that we should 
offhandedly aspire to forego.

The world of online journalism has 

become as convoluted as Ozick’s lit-
erary references, saturated with end-
less content and information. There is 
a constant flurry to churn out “news,” 
relevance (and sometimes accuracy) 
aside. Although Ozick refrained 
from pointing fingers, the example of 
Rolling Stone’s “A Rape on Campus” 
 

supports her allegations.

Seduced by the dramatic narra-

tive and potential impact of the story, 
Rolling Stone failed to surface and 
debate problems with Sabrina Erde-
ley’s reporting and the subsequent fact 
checking, and the mistakes that were 
made were entirely avoidable. The 
Columbia University Graduate School 

of Journalism Report on Rolling Stone 
and the UVA story reads, “The maga-
zine set aside or rationalized as unnec-
essary essential practices of reporting 
that, if pursued, would likely have led 
the magazine’s editors to reconsider 
publishing Jackie’s narrative so prom-
inently, if at all. The published story 
glossed over the gaps in the maga-
zine’s reporting by using pseudonyms 
and by failing to state where impor-
tant information had come from.”

The report also outright suggests, 

“The story’s blowup comes as another 
shock to journalism’s credibility amid 
head-swiveling change in the media 
industry. The particulars of Rolling 
Stone’s failure make clear the need for 
a revitalized consensus in newsrooms 
old and new about what best journal-
istic practices entail, at an operating-
manual-level of detail.”

While Rolling Stone’s UVA article 

is only one example, it points to an 
increasingly larger trend of producing 
sensationalized journalism despite the 
potential costs. I believe Ozick might 
argue that Rolling Stone subscribed to 
the new writer ideology; they aspired 
to make waves and in doing so, sacri-
ficed integrity and disserviced to the 
survivors of sexual assault, the publi-
cation itself and the industry at large.

Ozick wrote, “In the bottomless 

force of their seeming immortality, 
young writers are mercifully lent these 
blindfolds and ear muffs, and why? To 
shield them from what old writers 
have come to know: how things turn 
out.” Ozick is not telling young writ-
ers to “get off her lawn,” she’s warn-
ing them of the consequences of this 
new media environment. New writers 
can get swept away in the idea of fast-
tracking their careers and personal 
brand, risking or even forgetting the 
fundamentals of the craft that inspired 
us to become writers in the first place.

—Lauren McCarthy can be 

reached at laurmc@umich.edu.

LAUREN 
MCCARTHY

I gave up eating animals five years ago. Chick-

en, beef, fish, gelatin, lard — you name it — were 
instantly cut from my life. Admittedly, my deci-
sion to make the dietary switch had been mostly 
influenced by basic considerations of ethics at 
the time. I had been watching videos of common 
behaviors in the meat industry until I could no 
longer bear the image of mistreated animals in 
my stomach. I hadn’t fully evaluated the broader 
implications or nuances of vegetarianism when I 
made this intuitive choice.

With an impassioned meat-free month under 

my belt, I had anticipated reevaluating myself as 
a more energetic, empowered and maybe even 
progressive person. After all, I was eating an 
increasingly faddish plant-based diet, and feeling 
better seemed to follow as a given. Weeks passed, 
and as I stared down at my large nightly bowl of 
macaroni and cheese, I realized that I still felt 
heavy, and that science classes continued to flag 
my high carbon footprint, due to my near-con-
stant consumption of dairy and eggs.

Eliminating meat from my diet had only been 

the first step. I needed to branch out of my com-
fort zone, find new and healthier options and ease 
away from my reliance on non-slaughter animal 
products as major food sources. I began experi-

menting with new seeds and herbs, pumpkins and 
squashes and the seemingly endless variations of 
soy, until I had formed a well balanced diet that 
worked for my nutritional needs. Over the past 
few years, I have focused on vegetarianism as a 
powerful tool for reducing greenhouse gas emis-
sions and needless water usage, and ultimately as 
a method of achieving environmental justice.

The University offers educational programs, 

conducts research and engages in regular sus-
tainability efforts under the umbrella move-
ment Planet Blue. East Quad Residence Hall 
recently opted to participate in a specific oper-
ation, by implementing three dates of Meat-
less Mondays throughout this semester. The 
concept of Meatless Monday dates back to con-
servation efforts during World War I and has 
since transformed into an international health 
and environmental campaign.

As a current resident of East Quad, I thorough-

ly enjoyed the accomplishment and promotion 
of the two Meatless Mondays that have already 
taken place. Our dining hall had noticeably less 
traffic on these days, due to the availability of 
meat options at nearby dining halls, but staff 
enthusiastically served delicious alternatives 
for vegetarians and venturing meat-eaters alike. 

STEPHANIE TRIERWEILER | VIEWPOINT

Revamp Meatless Mondays

Breakfast on Feb. 23 featured frittata 
and French toast, and lunch and din-
ner had fried vegetable po’boy, risotto 
and portobello sliders. March 9 pro-
vided grilled cheese, pierogies, stir fry 
and black bean burgers, among other 
main courses.

I commend East Quad for its dedi-

cation to a highly varied and appetiz-
ing menu. Dishes hailing from diverse 
geographical regions were prominent-
ly featured, and food quality exceeded 
Michigan dining’s standards on both 
Meatless Mondays. Residents com-
mitted to vegetarianism or otherwise 
sustainable eating found an easier 
time navigating choices that catered to 
their lifestyles.

At the same time, I do not believe 

that the food reflected our poten-
tial to design healthy and entirely 
plant-based meals. Meatless Monday 
served many fried options, and most 
main courses involved dairy or eggs. 
Although vegetarian diets may include 
the consumption of certain animal 
products, East Quad should consider 

reducing its reliance on them as well 
as fried foods to represent the usual 
meals of vegetarians.

Plenty of healthy and tasty alter-

natives exist that don’t exclude vegan 
diets or mindful eaters. For example, 
the dining hall could reintroduce 
its oatmeal bar, offer whole-grain 
pasta instead of white and include a 
broader selection of nuts, seeds and 
fruits. It also could grill or bake items 
as opposed to frying them and offer 
hearty courses like root vegetable 
soup, avocado salads, couscous dishes 
and curried lentils.

Walking toward the dining hall 

on the first vegetarian day, students 
passed several large posters that 
prompted, “I LOVE Meatless Monday 
because … ” and “I HATE Meatless 
Monday because … ” with available 
markers for their personal input. The 
typical dining hall feedback cards had 
been removed from tables for a more 
public display of student opinions.

While I admire the availability of a 

platform for conversation, East Quad 

could take this a step further by remov-
ing the adversarial format and setting 
up spaces for dialogues about vegetari-
anism and other sustainability topics. 
Most student comments on the posters 
pointed to rational concerns on either 
end of the debate and could be expand-
ed to engage in a truly comprehensive 
discussion in the future.

East Quad has already done an 

excellent job of branching out of tra-
ditional meals, raising awareness and 
participating in a respectable cam-
paign. But I encourage my residence 
hall to foster real conversations during 
our third and final Meatless Monday 
of the semester, which takes place on 
April 13. New projects involve growing 
pains. Just as many individuals learn 
and adapt to their new lifestyles, we 
also have the capacity to present the 
most healthful versions of a vegetar-
ian diet at Michigan, and extend our 
collective comfort zone in the process.

Stephanie Trierweiler is an Editorial 

Board member and LSA freshman.

