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 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.