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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4A — Wednesday, November 25, 2015
I am the granddaughter of
refugees.
My grandmother, Mara Ilona
Grinbergs, was born in 1938 in
Riga, Latvia, on the eve of World
War II. Within a year, under
the terms of a secret pact signed
with Nazi Germany, the Soviet
Union would invade her country,
beginning a period of almost 50
years of oppressive occupation for
the small Baltic state. In the years
that followed, the Soviets and the
Nazis imposed successive regimes
of terror in the country, forcibly
deporting tens of thousands of
people
and
murdering
nearly
200,000
in
the
gulags
and
concentration camps. Among these
people were my grandmother’s
family, friends and neighbors.
It’s estimated that by the end of
World War II, almost one-third of
Latvia’s original population had
been killed, deported or had fled the
country to avoid such a fate. Similarly,
it’s estimated that 90 percent of
Latvia’s original Jewish population
had been systematically murdered
in one of the worst instances of
genocide in modern history.
My grandmother was among
those lucky enough to escape.
She ate grass to avoid starvation,
walked barefoot in the winter
because she had no shoes and
survived bombings that leveled the
cities in which she sought refuge.
After the war, and for the rest of her
childhood, my grandmother lived
in a refugee camp in Germany. She
came to the United States only after
immigration laws were enacted that
recognized refugees and set quotas
for their entry into the country.
Today, nearly 80 years later
and despite a completely different
political context, it’s difficult not to
draw parallels between the ongoing
humanitarian
crisis
affecting
Syrian refugees and the situation
my grandmother and so many
others faced at the beginning of
World War II.
Both politicians and society
at large in the United States (and
many other countries) have a long
history of deciding who the “other”
is in our nation. Who is defined as
“other” is constantly changing, but
the designation is often rooted in
fear, discrimination and a lack of
understanding; one that has always
been arbitrary at best, given that
the vast majority of Americans
descended from immigrants at
some point in their family lineage.
At various times in U.S. history, the
definition of “other” has included
people from Irish, Mexican, Japa-
nese, African, Italian, Arab and a
multitude of other backgrounds
who have been subject to discrimi-
nation, forced internment, deporta-
tion, xenophobia and rejection from
the communities in which they
lived and worked.
In 1939, the “other” included
German and Eastern European
refugees; at the beginning of World
War II, the majority of Americans
surveyed in Gallup polls opposed
allowing
German
and
Jewish
refugees, including children, into the
country. Today — as evidenced by
recent statements made by a number
of U.S. and international politicians
(including 31 state governors) that
their countries and states will
not accept Syrian refugees — this
definition of the “other” includes 3
million Syrians fleeing their homes
to escape the terror and violence
of ISIS.
From a political perspective
(at least in the United States),
these state-by-state declarations
barring Syrian refugees are legally
unenforceable, as the final say
on immigration matters falls to
the federal government. From a
humanitarian perspective, we still
have much to do to if, in the future,
we hope to say we were not implicit
in a human rights crisis of such
massive and horrific proportions.
If you ever have wondered what
you would have done to help during
the humanitarian crisis of World
War II, or of any other atrocity, the
time to find out is now. Good places
to start are:
1. Learn about the ongoing
situation in Syria and about who
the refugees are. Spread facts, not
fear, and foster support.
2. Contact your elected officials
and
demand
that
your
home
state and city publically support
accepting Syrian refugees.
3.
Through
your
state’s
Department of Social Services, find
out the name of your local contracted
refugee service provider and donate
and volunteer. For the Detroit area,
this provider is the U.S. Committee
for Refugees and Immigrants.
4. Support one of the well-
established
aid
organizations
currently assisting Syrian refugees
as we enter winter months. These
include: United Nations Human
Rights Council, Unicef, Medecins
Sans
Frontiers,
International
Rescue
Committee
and
Save
the Children.
Last year, in a lecture given at
Hill Auditorium, the acclaimed
author and activist Alice Walker
made a plea to thousands of
students, faculty and community
members hailing from around the
world that rings true to me today
more than ever: “Hope never to say
yes to another person’s suffering.
Hope never to make the mistake
that they are not you.”
Julia Milton-Zarina
is a 2014 alumnus.
Claire Bryan, Regan Detwiler, Ben Keller, Payton Luokkala, Aarica Marsh, Anna
Polumbo-Levy, Jason Rowland, Lauren Schandevel, Melissa Scholke, Rebecca
Tarnopol, Ashley Tjhung, Stephanie Trierweiler, Mary Kate Winn, Derek Wolfe
EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS
A
t least five of my friends shared or
posted about it. Apparently, when asked
about terrorists, Russian president
Vladimir Putin said, “To
forgive the terrorists is up
to God, but to send them to
him is up to me.”
Given
what
I
know
about
Putin
(which
is
limited
to
the
popular
image of him riding a horse
shirtless, various hunting
expeditions and general
male bravado), it seemed
plausible, so I shrugged
and moved on. Here’s the
problem, and this is not a
joke: Putin never said that, and the line is from
a Denzel Washington film from 2004.
Originally tweeted by Russia Today news
anchor Remi Maalouf, this false quote was
shared millions of times by Americans, loving its
boldness and action-hero feel. With comments
like “This guy is the man” and “Oh no he didn’t!”
a handful of my Facebook friends reveled in the
news. Similar posts (and from similar friends)
have claimed that the same “crisis actor” can
be shown in photos in the wake of the Paris
attacks, shootings at Aurora and Newtown,
pumping out fodder for conspiracy theorists
(several sources have confirmed that these are
three
different
people).
Take your pick of posts
that make you the least bit
suspicious, run a Google
search and, more often
than not, it will turn out to
be ridiculous or nonsense.
What stands out isn’t the
fact that misinformation
runs rampant in the world
of social media — this is,
unfortunately,
a
given.
What stands out is, as
Charles Spurgeon said, “A lie can travel halfway
round the world while the truth is putting on its
shoes.” (Not Mark Twain, I looked it up.)
Corrections and fact checks will never
spread like wildfire.
So why does this scare me? Facebook has
already become the social media platform
most prone to isolating one’s point of
view, with volatile comment sections and
questionable sources. In one study about
political polarization, social scientists found
that “roughly speaking a Facebook user has
five politically like-minded friends for every
one friend on the other side of the spectrum.”
People become more daring behind a
keyboard. Facebook users are more liable to
scroll past posts with which they disagree with
or unfriend the person altogether. Twitter and
Instagram seem to escape this seriousness,
likely due to the youthfulness of its audience
(less chance for serious argument among
teenagers sharing vines than adults sharing
politicized statuses). Combine all of this
potential for hostility with misinformation and
a general disregard for fact-checking; now, add
in the fact that 2016 is an election year. That’s
why Facebook is starting to scare me.
Having said this, social media remains an
incredible outlet for political engagement.
The introduction of candidates to younger
audiences, with greater activity through apps
like Snapchat and Instagram, will do wonders
for millennial voter turnout. Candidates may
live-tweet debates, but where’s the account
live fact-checking, and why isn’t it the most
important? Social media cannot be a haven
for inaccuracies and false statements on issues
of importance — a Vladimir Putin quote is
relatively harmless in the grand scheme of
things, but imagine the havoc a well-placed
Hillary Clinton misquote could wreak.
This past January, Facebook announced it
would label suspected hoaxes and fake news
with a warning and reduce the frequency of
posts with misinformation in the news feed.
If this is happening on a regular basis, either
my settings are messed up or the plan of attack
isn’t working. The questionable material I see
posted every day is as prevalent as ever. And
simply put, change on this front cannot come
from the organization itself — it has to come
from responsible Facebook users who question
sources, who share corrections and who refuse
to allow friends with whom they disagree to
disappear into a bubble of falsities and dema-
goguery. I’ve seen it happen and it’s not pretty.
One reason this strikes me now more
than ever is the ongoing
discussion
about
coddling that I have seen
shared on my timeline
by Facebook friends of
other generations. The
Washington Post asked,
“Are
colleges
coddling
students or just leveling
the playing field?” and
the Atlantic bemoaned,
“The Coddling of the
American Mind.”
In a recent Wall Street Journal editorial
titled “The Rise of the College Crybullies” by
Roger Kimball, my generation is accused of
hiding behind trigger warnings, and is said to
be overly sensitive and politically correct. As
a student at a large, liberal, public university,
let me say that instances of racism and sexism,
even in its subtlest forms that I may not
understand, take a toll on my peers. Students
and their ability to learn are affected.
I’m proud to be a part of the generation
ensuring that during these formative years of
education, people have a safe space to live and
learn. This isn’t coddling, it’s just decent.
Every
generation,
political
base
and
ideological faction walls themselves in, on
Facebook and otherwise, from people with
whom they disagree. Millennials, instead of
walling ourselves in with false sources and
Facebook posts — the kind that paint the world
in black and white, beget conspiracy theories
and refuse to be corrected — have chosen
inclusive language and tolerance.
— Brett Graham can be reached
at btgraham@umich.edu.
Facebook is starting to scare me
The rent is in fact too damn high
F
irst off, happy Thanksgiving!
In my last column, I
discussed growing economic
disparity
right
here
in
Ann
Arbor.
I
mentioned
that we’re the
eighth
most
economically
segregated
city
in the nation. I
mentioned that
the
incomes
of the top 10
percent of our
residents
are
growing, and growing fast, while
the exact opposite is true of our
bottom 10 percent. And I mentioned
that a couple working two full-time
jobs at minimum wage can’t afford
to live here, nor can a public school
teacher. What I didn’t mention was
a solution.
So what can we do?
Well most immediately, we can
try to lower our housing costs. For
all the ways Ann Arbor is unique,
there’s one specific way that’s
very relevant to this particular
conversation. And that is that we’re
a hot real estate market. So hot, in
fact, that back in July, Ann Arbor
was ranked the ninth hottest market
in the United States — a ranking
that matches us with some of the
largest cities in the country. To put
that ranking in perspective, in Ann
Arbor, the average house will only
spend 61 days on the market before
sale. In Manhattan, that number is
73 days. We’re moving faster than
a real estate market that doesn’t
sleep. And that means Big Apple
prices in a small Midwestern city.
Now, as students, we probably
have a good five to 10 years before
we start to use the word “buy.” For
now, most of us are renters. But we
exist in that same world — demand
for housing is demand for housing.
A Harvard study shows that, after
the last recession, homeownership
is steadily falling while rental
demand is surging nationally. In
Ann Arbor, homes are being bought
up at higher prices and middle-class
residents are being pushed into the
rental market. That means students
and professionals are competing
for the same type of apartments.
That also means the average one-
bedroom unit will cost $1,244 per
month, almost double the monthly
rate of East Lansing.
It’s clear people want to live
here. But are we really giving them
or ourselves a chance?
The short answer is no, or not
yet. This huge demand for housing
doesn’t have the supply to match it.
Common sense, Economics 101 and
that same Harvard study all say that
if supply increases to match demand,
price will lower. Here in Ann Arbor,
we can’t legally grow our city limits
outward. We’re
about 29 square
miles, and that
number
won’t
ever
change
much.
That
means we need
to
invest
in
denser housing —
townhouses over
McMansions and
some high-rises
downtown. That said, I believe all
things should be done in moderation
— saturation is good, oversaturation
is bad. After all, it was a real estate
bubble that caused our last financial
crisis. But at the end of the day, we
work in a market and so we have to
work with the market.
Now, the laws of supply and
demand have been around for more
than 300 years. But Ann Arbor is
a hub of technological and social
innovation. Our response to a
crisis in affordability should be
innovative, too.
So a question: What do a young
tech entrepreneur, public school
teacher, artist and retiree all have
in common?
The answer is they all have pretty
similar incomes. Right now, Ann
Arbor’s housing market works great
for the wealthy. And the Ann Arbor
Housing Commission provides pub-
lic housing for our neighbors most in
need. But there’s a missing middle to
the housing market — a middle that
would satisfy the needs of young tech
entrepreneurs, public school teach-
ers, artists and retirees alike.
Luckily, we have some options.
The most straightforward is to sell
or lease public land — parking lots or
old facilities — to private developers
at below market rate. This lowers
the cost of construction to such a
degree that the new landlords can,
in turn, rent the new units at below
market rate. Potential partners
are already itching to get going.
These public-private partnerships
spread
responsibility
for
the
community
across
government
and business while hedging both
sides’ investments.
Want to spread the responsi-
bility
further?
We can put the
power right in
the
hands
of
the
residents
themselves.
Neighborhood
cooperatives
have the power
to regulate sale
price,
ensur-
ing prices only
increase at a set rate. In fact, we
already have thriving townhouse
cooperatives here in Ann Arbor.
These issues are by no means
isolated to Ann Arbor. These
are issues facing every cool and
desirable city across the United
States. But the solutions will
never come naturally. They will
come as a result of dedication and
commitment. And they will succeed
as a result of thoughtful design.
It’s an uphill battle and it will
take time. But it’s the change we
need. Because you should graduate
and feel like you can afford to stay
here. You should live a full life and
feel like you can afford to retire
here. And for all those years in
between, you and all your neighbors
should live comfortably, free from
the undue burden of high rents
and high mortgages created by an
overburdened housing market.
— Zachary Ackerman can be
reached at zdack@umich.edu.
ZACHARY
ACKERMAN
BRETT
GRAHAM
The ever-changing “other”
JULIA MILTON-ZARINA | VIEWPOINT
What do a young
tech entrepreneur,
public school teacher,
artist and retiree all
have in common?
The questionable
material I see
posted every day is
as prevalent as ever.
— The family of Laquan McDonald said in a statement issued through their lawyers
before a video of McDonald’s death in Chicago was released yesterday.
“
NOTABLE QUOTABLE
No one understands
the anger more than
us, but if you choose to
speak out, we urge you
to be peaceful.”
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Have a happy and safe
Thanksgiving break!