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 — Wednesday, October 21, 2015
T
ucked away in some of my favorite
in-between-class
hideaways,
I
recently devoted spare moments of
my time to reading “To
Kill
a
Mockingbird.”
Each time I began to
thumb through its pages,
the sight of me reading
this
particular
novel
seemed to spark multiple
renditions of the same
conversation. Roommates,
friends,
classmates
and
coworkers
—
usually
sporting
a
perplexed
look — approached me
asking some variation of
the question: “Haven’t you
read this before?” Most tended to be satisfied
(and some relieved) when I informed them that
I was, in fact, re-reading it for a class.
Considering
the
book’s
prominent,
solidified position among the litany of texts
students often read as a part of their high
school or middle school curriculum, I can
understand why some might find it odd if
I was reading it for the first time. However,
as my professor suggested, as continually
evolving individuals, we experience aspects
of a novel differently as time progresses and
views shift. There’s merit in re-examining a
world you originally believed you saw in its
entirety. Yes, the same characters may be
acting within the same plot, but just as it is
with the world, one glance doesn’t tell the
whole story.
To
fully
understand
a book, a situation, an
issue or even a person,
you
can’t
rely
solely
upon your initial vantage
point. A second, third or
fourth look is necessary
to
uncover
what
you
may
have
overlooked
before,
underscoring
the notion that learning
is a continuous process
and,
no
matter
how
much one may think they understand or see,
there’s probably something missing from
the conversation.
“To Kill a Mockingbird” is known for its
discussions of racism, injustice, prejudice and
empathy, and for capturing the atmosphere
of an entire period of U.S. history. This isn’t
what my class focused on. Instead, we talked
about visibility. Our conversation centered on
the interplay between who’s seen, who isn’t,
who deserves to be visible and why they are
or aren’t.
Sight
and
its
accompanying
array
of dimensions and dynamics foster a
prioritization of ideas and people. Visibility
is arguably often a determinant of worth
— what’s worth devoting attention to and
what ideas stimulate action, receive support
or are even publicly rejected. Who or
what is seen in our media landscape, or in
government, is a reflection of the balance of
power and control in society as a whole.
Recently, Elle UK released a video
online that plays with these dynamics of
visibility. The simple exercise in Photoshop
illustrates that what you don’t see is often
more important than what you do. The video
showcases photographic stills of governing
bodies, producers, creators and other groups,
and then it alters the image by removing all
of the men within the picture to reveal a
sparse scattering of women surrounded by
multitudes of empty space.
The short video certainly succeeds in
highlighting discrepancies with regard to
gender representation. On one hand, one look
at the unaltered images tells a viewer that
female representation is present in a number
of environments. However, when one looks
again from a different perspective, vast empty
spaces that a male majority usually occupies
overpower this now-seemingly miniscule
population of women.
While
women
are
visible,
the
disproportionate representation of men leads
to a problematic scenario in which a few
outnumbered individuals are responsible for
standing for their entire group. This scenario
can be seen across numerous groups and
communities. In the media landscape, the
inclusion of diverse representation often
results in another problematic scenario in
which the select number of visible individuals
in a group often falls within stereotypes that
aren’t reflective of the group at all.
Visibility is a complicated issue with a
variety of consequences. While making
one’s
presence
known
allows
for
the
acknowledgement of their accomplishments,
ideas and opinions, it likewise creates a space
where one is like an ant thrust beneath the
gaze
of
a
magnifying
glass.
Being noticed in the
public
eye
creates
an
atmosphere of exposure
that can invite scrutiny
and
make
individuals
susceptible to criticism.
Yet
without
this
recognition,
unequal
representation,
in
a
multitude
of
areas,
will continue to silence
voices that have been neglected for far too
long. Our perceptions of who “normally”
is seen and heard within the public sphere
inhibits
debates
and
discussions.
The
underrepresented never even have the chance
to exist. Even when representation exists and
there’s a space for these discussions, a lack of
diversity may lead to an absence of underlying
conversations and issues.
Simply altering or slightly modifying the
pictures of society that we see isn’t a sufficient
method that we should accept when re-shaping
society. Often in a book, the characters who
truly force readers to consider viewpoints and
ideas that deviate from the norm are those
who are barely visible in the text. In fact, these
characters are usually the ones readers don’t
notice the first time through. If we truly want
to address problematic issues and change
society, we need to re-examine the larger
narratives at play and increase the visibility of
overlooked voices.
— Melissa Scholke can be reached
at melikaye@umich.edu.
MELISSA
SCHOLKE
My interest in criminal justice
policies has taken me to a few talks
on the subject over the years. I’ve
listened to people tell their stories
of life behind bars and how those
years have inspired them to seek
change. All of these lectures have
been informative and fascinating.
Last Tuesday, however, was the
first time I’ve seen hordes of people
wait hours outside an auditorium
for the chance to hear an advocate
for criminal justice reform speak.
In fact, it was probably the only edu-
cational talk I have seen that filled
a large auditorium so quickly and
with such an enthusiastic crowd.
But such is the power of Piper Ker-
man, the writer of the memoir that
inspired the hit TV show “Orange is
the New Black.”
Kerman is a vocal prison reform
activist who uses her experience
behind bars, through the TV show
and her memoir that depict it, to
shine a light on the fundamental
flaws of our nation’s criminal jus-
tice system. She’s also undoubt-
edly a celebrity; the show (loosely)
based on Kerman’s life experience
is a massive hit, and she has 112,000
followers on Twitter. It’s hard for
me to reconcile these two identities,
especially given that Kerman was
not the typical U.S. prisoner, and
her experience as a prisoner doesn’t
reflect the pain and suffering felt by
many of those incarcerated.
Mass incarceration, after all, is
a problem that disproportionately
affects communities of color and
poor communities. Kerman, on
the other hand, is white, wealthy
and college-educated. People like
Kerman (and me) are less likely
to end up in jail or prison because
our privilege makes us unlikely to
be caught committing a crime and,
if we are caught, less likely to be
punished for it.
When rich white people commit
crimes, it’s often viewed as a fool-
ish mistake or some kind of fluke.
The same cannot be said for people
of other backgrounds. And, if the
wealthy do end up being charged,
they can afford effective repre-
sentation. Kerman’s sentence was
short because she could afford an
attorney who could fight to get her
the minimum sentence. Few people
who end up in prison are that lucky,
and her view of the prison system is
undeniably a privileged one.
But the story of a white woman
from a good family who ends up in
prison is a story that people will
listen to. In her interview with The
Michigan Daily, Kerman acknowl-
edged that the reason people are
interested in her story is because it’s
a “fish-out-of-water story.” Every-
body knows that people like Ker-
man don’t go to jail. So, when they
do, we’re interested. Her whiteness
and wealth may make her ill-suited
to be the face for prison reform, but
these are the reasons that people
are listening in the first place.
Kerman is well aware of her
privilege, and uses it as a tool. She
says she wrote “Orange is the New
Black: My Year in a Women’s Pris-
on” so that somebody who usually
wouldn’t pick up a book about pris-
on would be curious and find them-
selves empathizing with prisoners
and caring about criminal justice
reform. It did just that.
The popularity of “Orange is the
New Black,” the book and show,
brought
complex,
sympathetic
prisoners of different races and
backgrounds into the hearts of
millions of Americans. The show
is groundbreaking because it por-
trays prisoners as humans who
made mistakes, not evil, danger-
ous people. The show continues to
reveal the depth of humanity that
these prisoners are capable of, and
Kerman continues to advocate for
prison justice reform. And people
will keep watching and listening.
Even if it’s hard to stomach that
a wealthy, white woman is prob-
ably the most famous prison reform
advocate in the United States, it’s
hard to deny that her activism has
helped prison reform make huge
strides. Kerman’s somewhat con-
flicting roles of celebrity and activ-
ist have helped the issue reach new
ears. Her show is part of the reason
that the topic is widely understood
as a pressing national issue.
So maybe it’s best not to look a
gift horse in the mouth.
As someone who cares a lot about
changing the criminal justice sys-
tem, I will continue to be grateful
for the work that Kerman does. But
perhaps it’s time to bring additional
voices to the forefront.
Kerman does her part by high-
lighting the stories of other former
prisoners who are more representa-
tive of our nation’s prison popula-
tion. Now it’s our turn to make sure
the conversation doesn’t end here.
Listen to the voices of other people
who have experienced the crimi-
nal justice system, not just because
their stories are interesting, but also
because they are important. Listen to
a TEDxUofM Talk by Mary Heinen
and support the Prison Arts Coali-
tion, the project she co-founded that
supports and provides resources for
those creating art in and around the
prison system. Be a part of the Prison
Creative Arts Project, a similar pro-
gram that is housed in the Universi-
ty’s Residential College. Do your own
research to find out how you can best
help prisoners or reform prisons.
Don’t be content to take “Orange
is the New Black” at face value:
The plotlines on the show may be
fictional, but the pain felt by the
characters as a result of their incar-
ceration is far from make-believe.
Mary Kate Winn is a Public
Policy junior and an assistant
editorial page editor.
Piper the privileged prisoner
The overlooked voices
Claire Bryan, Regan Detwiler, Ben Keller, Payton Luokkala,
Aarica Marsh, Adam Morton, Victoria Noble, Anna
Polumbo-Levy, Melissa Scholke, Michael Schramm,
Stephanie Trierweiler, Mary Kate Winn, Derek Wolfe
EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS
MARY KATE WINN | VIEWPOINT
“I
think I have seen your
article in the Daily. You
write for Michigan in
Color right?”
I have heard
this
comment
too many times
for it to be a
coincidence.
As
I calmly explain
that I was not
hired to write
for Michigan in
Color — which is
a section of the
Daily devoted to
people of color
— and that instead I’m an opinion
columnist, I wonder what would
lead so many people to the same
conclusion. It may be because I write
about my religious and cultural
backgrounds, but to think that the
subject matter of my articles would
take people to that conclusion so
often is still off-putting to me.
Maybe it’s the mere fact that I’m
a person of color and a writer, and
they saw my writing in the Opinion
section.
Please do not misunderstand me.
I respect MiC and highly encourage
people to submit articles to the
section. It’s a great space for people
to write about their backgrounds
and genuine experiences within
their
ethnicities
and
cultural
backgrounds
—
I
have
even
considered contributing to it before.
However, what I do not like is
the idea that MiC is the only place
that people of color are expected
to talk about their backgrounds,
or that people of color at The
Michigan Daily seem confined to
writing only for MiC. Discussion
of culture shouldn’t be limited to
one section of the paper, nor is it in
actuality. People write about their
backgrounds in other sections of
the paper, and when I do the same,
it’s because it’s my preference.
When
one
expresses
their
religion in a way that’s as visible
as a hijab, it “colors” everything
that person does. Any time I
speak, I unwillingly become the
spokesperson for all 1.57 billion
Muslims. Any time my column
shows up in the Daily, or someone
adds me on social media, before
they hit that follow button, the first
thing they see is my hijab.
In most ways, I love my hijab,
what it represents to me and the
satisfaction of getting through
to someone who had negative
misconceptions about it previously.
At the same time, it can get tiring
being the “token Muslim girl” in
class discussions, or even in the
Daily’s Opinion section. The weight
of it can be overwhelming, but it
proves more flaws on society’s part
than my own.
Imagine what this might feel like
for a moment. Chances are that you
can relate to that feeling in some way
— being discredited just because of
your appearance. Yes, I’m a Muslim.
Yes, I often write about my culture
and
my
background,
breaking
misconceptions surrounding them
because it’s important to me. No,
I do not see that as an excuse for
you to confine me to the ideas that
you have about
Muslims
or
people of color in
general.
When
you
are
the
token
Muslim girl you
also become the
token “Arab girl”
even if, as in
my case, you’re
not
Arab.
My
roots in India go back about three
generations, but even before that
generation, I’m still Persian before
reaching my Arab roots.
Ethnicity and culture are not just
skin deep. To begin understanding
the
complexity
of
ethnicity
and culture is important when
approaching people of different
backgrounds
than
one’s
own.
Truthfully, unless you can trace
your ancestors to the very home you
live in right now, the chances are
that your roots begin somewhere
else. This is important to think
about before painting somebody
else with a large brush just for what
they look like on the surface.
Sometimes when I do not fit the
label people already precomputed
for me, they stare at me in awe: “No,
you cannot be Indian!”
If I say I’m not Middle Eastern,
people often argue, “Pakistan is
considered part of the Middle East
to some people” (which is false,
unless you want to consider the
Indian subcontinent a part of the
Middle East).
Though it isn’t plausible for you to
know the roots of every person that
you meet before inquiring about their
culture, it’s critically important to be
respectfully unassuming. Listen to
people with an open mind, and if they
tell you what their background is,
believe them — don’t question them
with skepticism.
I have been told to write less
about my background. I have
been asked why I feel the need
to self-victimize. Time and time
again, people have written off my
accomplishments after one look
at me, but I’m empowered just
the same, and
continue
to
hope that my
writing inspires
people
in
a
multitude
of
ways.
Explaining
that
just
because
I
write about my
religion
and
ethnicity does not mean that I write
for MiC is just another hurdle to get
through as I try to reach people
through writing quality columns
spanning a variety of subjects.
True, this might be another
column
about
my
background
and it may have fit well in MiC’s
section, but it fits just as well here:
the 1,000-word space I was hired
to write for every two weeks in the
Opinion section at a 125-year-old,
editorially independent newspaper.
— Rabab Jafri can be reached
at rfjafri@umich.edu.
Not just Michigan in Color
RABAB
JAFRI
The
underrepresented
never even have the
chance to exist.
True, this column
may have fit well in
MiC’s section, but it
fits just as well here.
E-mail in Chan at tokg@umiCh.Edu
IN CHAN LEE