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.