Opinion
JENNIFER CALFAS
EDITOR IN CHIEF
AARICA MARSH
and DEREK WOLFE
EDITORIAL PAGE EDITORS
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MANAGING EDITOR
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Ann Arbor, MI 48109
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The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Friday, November 13, 2015
Claire Bryan, Regan Detwiler, Ben Keller, Payton Luokkala,
Aarica Marsh, Anna Polumbo-Levy, Melissa Scholke, Michael
Schramm, Stephanie Trierweiler, Mary Kate Winn, Derek Wolfe
EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS
The GOP’s Hillary complex
I
n every debate, there are winners and los-
ers. Tuesday night’s fourth GOP debate in
Milwaukee was no exception. Polls show
a bump for Marco Rubio,
Donald Trump dominated
in terms of new followers
and likes on social media,
and Ted Cruz worked the
audience like no other,
with 13 minutes of speak-
ing
time
littered
with
applause and laughter.
On the other side, Jeb
Bush failed to make any
significant
strides
back
into relevancy, and John
Kasich was booed during
his
answer
on
bailing
out banks. However, amid the fanfare and
platitudes about what America is “really about”
that typically accompany Republican debates,
one candidate should feel pretty good about her
position after this one: Hillary Clinton.
Billed as the debate about jobs and the
economy, moderators from the Fox Business
Network and The Wall Street Journal
broached a variety of topics, from Syria to
who on stage would have his or her tax plan
endorsed by God to which five departments
of government Ted Cruz would cut (spoiler
alert: two of them are the Department of
Commerce). Only one talking point, though,
made its way into everyone’s remarks, and
that was the Democratic frontrunner.
Hillary Clinton’s name was mentioned a
total of 24 times in the two-hour debate, and
at least once by each of the eight candidates
(issues that were never mentioned, by the
way, include race, making higher education
affordable and campaign finance reform).
She was called the worst secretary of state in
history and the embodiment of cronyism. She
was accused, along with Bernie Sanders, of
not telling the truth about what’s hurting the
middle class. She was challenged, in the third
person, by Carly Fiorina.
Clearly, a requirement for any candidate
during primary season should be electability
and the potential to win a general election
against an opposing party. But when was the
last time, without an incumbent president
running for re-election, that one person has had
such a permanent and unshakeable target on
his or her backs with the election a year away?
All of this made one thing clear: Republicans
have a major Hillary Clinton complex, and it’s
not going away any time soon.
Why, then, does this make Hillary Clinton
a winner? Simply put, constant attacks
make GOP candidates look small, especially
considering the fact that every charge leveled
has been shrugged off by its target. The
former secretary looks classier, more mature
and more presidential with every dismissal
of the clown car on the opposite side of the
ticket next November. Not to mention the
fact that in the long run, the American people
are bound to tire of negative campaigning,
if that is to be a central tenet of Republican
campaigns for the next 12 months. And
with articles titled “Who Can Beat Hillary
Clinton?” being written in the hours after the
debate, she seems like more and more of an
inevitability for the Democratic nomination
(likely to the chagrin of Sanders supporters).
Take how Fox moderator Maria Bartiromo
began her question to Marco Rubio about
whether anyone could compare to the
“impressive resumé” of Hillary Clinton: “She
was the first lady of the United States, a U.S.
senator from New York and secretary of state
under Barack Obama. She has arguably more
experience, certainly more time in government
than almost all of you on stage tonight.”
Seconds into the question, the entire
audience started booing loudly. There are two
explanations for this: One is that the audience
of likely Republican voters thought it to be a
bad question and that the former secretary
of state, senator and first lady’s resumé is not
impressive (which would be clearly biased
nonsense). Another is that they know the
opposite is true — that Hillary Clinton is
qualified to be president and the sheer mention
of her qualifications causes a knee-jerk
reaction of moaning and woe in conservatives.
The simple fact of the matter is that primary
season should be a time for candidates on both
sides to connect with voters and determine
the stances and issues that will resonate best
with the people they are determined to lead,
not a cage match to decide who gets to the
title fight. As someone who is not registered
with either political party and will not cast
a vote in the primaries, I value the chance
to see candidates get to know their base and
how they steer their campaigns in certain
directions based on the stories they hear
and the people they meet. During Tuesday’s
debate, though, it was difficult to see any of
that, considering the only direction I saw
from each campaign was straight to the
White House and through Hillary Clinton.
Instead, I saw what will be the most glaring
weakness of the Republican field thus far.
It’s not Jeb’s family name or Carly Fiorina’s
business record. It’s not Donald Trump’s
unpredictable aversion to political correctness
or Ben Carson thinking the pyramids were
built by Joseph to store grain, though all of
these come in a strong second place. It’s the
fact that they can’t stop talking about Hillary
Clinton and start talking about the issues. It’s
the fact that mentioning her name can change
a poor answer to an applause line. It’s the fact
that sooner or later, the parade of negative
campaign material is going to get old for the
independent middle, which doesn’t necessarily
hate the former secretary.
In case it wasn’t obvious, the constant
demonization of one personality is not enough
to base a winning presidential campaign on.
Or at least it shouldn’t be.
— Brett Graham can be reached
at btgraham@umich.edu.
BRETT
GRAHAM
F
reshman year, I joked to my
younger brother, “You can
be my roommate.” I wasn’t
moving
into
a dorm, and I
felt 100 percent
OK
with
that
decision. I didn’t
have to worry
about
laptop
theft,
doing
my laundry in
coin-operated
machines
or
sharing
a
communal
bathroom. Now,
three years later, I’m happy that
I can still live with my family —
the way I did during my first fall
semester at the University.
My home is only about a mile
away from Central Campus, and
I’ve lived there for my entire college
career so far. If anything, I believe
it’s added to my personal experience
of college and has made my time
mean more by providing me with a
calm, private place to go back to at
the end of each day.
Kelsey Murphy, a junior in the
School of Music, Theatre and Dance,
lived at home for her first two years
of college and feels similarly.
“The idea of living in a dorm just
didn’t appeal to me at all,” she said.
Though her home was a little
farther from campus than mine, she
still found it worth the trip back and
forth each day.
She continued: “I’m a very
private, independent person, and I
like having my own space to come
home to at the end of the day and
not having to share a space with
someone I don’t know.”
Living at home also means that
I have neighbors — neighbors who
aren’t
all
20-somethings
going
to college or university. Actually,
many of my neighbors teach at the
University or at other colleges in the
area, and they never fail to remind me
that I should be doing my homework
right now. In a neighborhood that’s
home to people of many ages, I also
find that my schedule has more of
a regulated structure than when
I spend my whole day on campus.
Without my family members and
their activities to provide me with
perspective, the day tends to float by,
divided up between classes, study
sessions and meals, either from a
lunchbox or a take-out box, often
eaten over a piece of reading due for
something later that afternoon.
Maybe the single most defining
and important aspect of living at
home is the cost — that is, the lack
thereof. While Murphy was living at
home, she was able to set aside money
for the apartment she has now, which
she finds a more desirable living
situation than one that requires a
long daily commute.
“I want to be more involved on
campus and take part in more social
events,” she said. “So it’s great living
so close to everything. It makes my
classes a lot easier, too, because the
time I would have spent driving
back and forth between campus and
home I can now use for homework or
catching up on sleep.”
That’s one of the drawbacks
I’ve come up against as well —
living somewhat far from campus
makes it difficult to participate in
extracurricular or late-night events. I
don’t have my own car, so I’m reliant
on the city bus system to get me to
and from campus each day unless
I arrange for a ride. It can also be
difficult to meet up with friends or to
plan spontaneously. But I don’t think
that living at home has detracted
from my “college experience” one
bit — if anything, I believe it’s added
deeper meaning to my time here.
Most importantly, it hasn’t left
me coddled, which I think some
people assume when I tell them
about my living situation. If I use the
kitchen, I have to wash my dishes.
I do my laundry and help with
vacuuming and other household
chores, such as walking the dog
(more of a highlight than a chore,
in my opinion). I get to help haul
groceries every weekend and also
get to choose some of what food we
have available during the coming
week. When I’m home alone, I can
play my music as loudly (or quietly)
as I’d like, and on weekends and
even during game days, I don’t need
to worry about noisy partygoers.
Of course, living at home just
doesn’t make sense for students
coming to the University from other
states or internationally. I can also
understand the interest in getting
your very own apartment, dorm or
room in a house during your college
years. But it makes sense to me, in my
own personal situation, to live this
way, and it’s worked well for me so
far. I stay up to date on what my fam-
ily’s doing, have access to a familiar
kitchen and food that I’m used to and
get to raid my brother’s video game
collection from time to time.
Maybe best of all, I can study
without having to trek to the library.
(Actually, scratch that. Best of all is
getting to pet my dog.)
I’m on campus enough as it is; it’s
nice to have a place to retreat to that’s
far enough away to provide a big
distance between my home life and
school life. Murphy and I both agreed
that for us, living at home for a year or
two, or perhaps more than that, was
the best decision we could make.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to
go wash my lunch dishes!
— Susan LaMoreaux can be
reached at susanpl@umich.edu.
Living at home
SUSAN
LAMOREAUX
The Weight of Your Words
I became exposed to the realities
of racism during the relatively
conflict-free and halcyon days of
my childhood. Each year, I spent
the months between September
and June in Montgomery County,
Pennsylvania
—
a
supposedly
progressive bastion in an increasingly
regressive state. It was here where I
learned about the Mayflower, Amelia
Earhart and Eleanor Roosevelt, but
not Benjamin Banneker, Sojourner
Truth and Marcus Garvey.
My summers, though, were spent
on the shores of the Chesapeake Bay,
at the site of what my grandparents
told me was once Travellers Rest
Plantation — a sprawling estate
supposedly fueled by slave labor
that produced wheat, corn and
other staple crops. This land is
where my grandparents settled
down during retirement.
Afternoon walks in Travellers
Rest yielded the discovery of many
vestiges of a bygone age. I vividly
remember walking by long-defunct
train tracks, now covered in tall
grass, and asking my grandfather
why no trains seemed to pass. It was
then that I learned how Southern
plantations grew the food that fed
the rest of the country.
On other walks, we would stroll
past a long, willow-lined driveway.
The driveway was so expansive,
in fact, that the great distance hid
whatever sat at the other side of it.
Time after time, I would wonder
what could possibly be at the end of
that driveway. Eventually, I asked
my grandmother. It was then that
I learned about the elegant homes
of slave masters and the depraved
conditions the slaves lived in (I
refrain from saying “the homes the
slaves lived in” because that would
be an insult to houses).
Another time, we passed a memo-
rial sign honoring Frederick Doug-
lass, who, according to local legend,
was born as a slave in the next town
over before escaping and attaining
his freedom. At the time, the name
meant nothing to me, and my grand-
parents could tell. So there I stood, on
an old plantation in the summer heat,
receiving a history lesson about the
abolitionist movement.
However, when I returned to
elementary school every fall, my
classmates and I went right back to
learning about the Mayflower, Ame-
lia Earhart and Eleanor Roosevelt,
but not Benjamin Banneker, Sojourn-
er Truth and Marcus Garvey.
It wasn’t until around seventh
grade that we began to seriously
talk about events like the slave trade,
the Civil War and the Civil Rights
Movement. But by then it was too late;
my classmates had already developed
their view of different races. Even
though, thankfully, the vast majority
turned out not to be hateful racists,
they still lacked the history to
understand the implications and
repercussions of things as simple as
the jokes they made toward me and
other minority students.
In 10th grade, we read a short
story in literature class about the
Klu Klux Klan burning down Afri-
can American churches. After the
teacher referred to the churchgoers
as “Black” and “African American,”
a classmate of mine raised her hand
to inform the class that “they prefer
to be called colored.” Obviously she
meant no harm, but this just high-
lights the dangers of not informing
children of the history behind racial-
ly loaded terms.
In 11th grade, when an Indian
friend and I were both on the com-
puters in study hall, the substitute
teacher approached us. “What grade
are you guys in?” she asked. After
finding out we were juniors, she
asked my friend which colleges she
planned on applying to. The teacher
then turned to me and asked what
I was planning on doing with my
future. She then went on to describe
the wonderful career her nephew
made for himself in the army. She
assumed that because I was a Black
male, I was not qualified to move on
in academia. I understand that she
was trying to be helpful, but in doing
so she made me feel as if I wasn’t tal-
ented or smart enough to be pursuing
higher education, an unintentional
side effect of her ignorance
— of the
weight of her comments.
In 12th grade, I received my accep-
tance to the University of Michigan.
Out of the more than 1,000 students
of North Penn High School’s class
of 2015, to my knowledge, I was the
only one to receive an acceptance let-
ter. This achievement gained me the
nickname “Mr. Affirmative Action,”
a superlative that still angers me to
this day. My classmates belittled the
work I put in over the past four years,
attributing the fruits of my labor to
nothing more than winning a ran-
dom outcome in a genetic lottery.
It was just earlier this year when
my sister proudly told one of her
school’s faculty members where
I was going to college. “Oh! What
sport does he play?” the woman
asked. Dumbfounded, my sister
pressed for some context. It turned
out that the woman assumed I was
admitted to the University for some
athletic ability and not for my aca-
demic achievements.
“How is it possible for a 6’4”
Black kid to not be good at sports?”
she must have wondered. But in
doing this, she was inadvertently
asking, “How is it possible for a
6’4” Black kid to be good enough to
get into Michigan? There must be
another explanation.”
Racism is like water; it seeps and
thrives in every unguarded action
and word. You may not know the
water is in your ceilings until mold
starts growing, and by then it is often
too late. The ceiling must be torn
down and a new one must take its
place. More importantly, while the
ceiling is down and the insides of the
house are exposed, it’s essential to
tackle the water leakage problem that
caused the issue in the first place.
This must be done with racism.
We can’t deny the problem that rac-
ism exists because, just like mold, the
situation will continue to build up
and create an increasingly danger-
ous environment. Likewise, we can’t
only offer solutions that replace the
ceiling — designating areas as safe
spaces or banning this word and that
phrase — because it’s only a matter of
time before our efforts are proven to
be wasted and the problem returns.
Instead, we must tackle the root of
the problem by educating young child
about the history of race relations.
This can be done in many ways, from
teaching children about race issues
earlier in their lives to encouraging
parents to have these hard conversa-
tions in an open environment with
their young children — like the ones I
received from my grandparents.
While these measures may seem
like a drop in the bucket compared
to tackling the policies that allow for
the proliferation of institutional rac-
ism, at the very least it will inform
people so they will think about the
consequences and implications of
what they say before they say it.
Jason Rowland is an LSA freshman.
JASON ROWLAND | MICHIGAN IN COLOR
E-mail JoE at Jiovino@umich.Edu
JOE IOVINO
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