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February 16, 2016 - Image 4

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Opinion

SHOHAM GEVA
EDITOR IN CHIEF

CLAIRE BRYAN

AND REGAN DETWILER
EDITORIAL PAGE EDITORS

LAURA SCHINAGLE
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 — Tuesday, February 16, 2016

L

ast Thursday, I attended
parts of the #UMBlackout:
Mobilizing Black Communi-

ties for Radical
Transformation
in
the
Digital

Age symposium,
organized
by

the UM Social
Work
Commu-

nity
Organiza-

tion
Learning

Committee and
campus-wide
partners. Among
the
dialogues

of race, social
networking and the #blacklives-
matter movement came one that
I found particularly challenging:
how to act as an ally.

I sat in on a workshop titled

The Promises and Pitfalls of Ally-
ship in the Digital Age in which
James Mohsin, who works for the
National Center for Institutional
Diversity, spoke on allyship, which
is taking actions to speak up for
people of a marginalized group
that you do not belong to. He spoke
on the importance of language,
particularly the differentiation
between using the word ally as a
verb versus a noun.

This
distinction
is
crucial

when evaluating the extent to
which we act as allies. As Mohsin
put it, “There’s a big difference
between being an ally and work-
ing as an ally or acting as an ally
or currently standing in solidarity
with.” He continued, “The truth
is if we are not actively speaking
always in that moment, we are
not being an ally in that moment.”
Through understanding this, we
can also more easily recognize
when self-proclaimed allies are
not acting as allies. For example,
a person who claims to be an ally
and thus justifies making racist
jokes because they “have a Black
friend” or “understand the joke”
are not, in that moment, acting as
an ally. Instead, they are perpetu-

ating ideas that have negative con-
sequences on real people’s lives,
which they justify because of their
“allied status.”

Thus, the importance of acting as

an ally is, when done right, meant to
be a humbling process. It should not
be about you. Now, of course there
will be times when we can try our
best to connect with other people
by using our own experiences. I
have found in my own experiences
as a Muslim woman who wears
hijab that I have a higher ability to
sympathize with members of other
marginalized communities, but I
do not, nor will I ever, fully under-
stand what it is like to be a member
of any group other than my own.
Striking the balance between act-
ing as an ally and overstepping the
line into ignorance of an experi-
ence of another group is something
I constantly struggle with.

When three Muslims — Deah,

Yusor, and Razzan — were mur-
dered in a hate crime written off in
many media sources as being on the
basis of a parking dispute, I began to
understand how communities have
to carry the burden of deaths, espe-
cially when they are hate crimes.
This tragedy also brought attention
to Abdisamad Sheikh-Hussein, a
15-year-old African American Mus-
lim boy who was killed in a hit-and-
run car crash, who received very
little media or community atten-
tion. Though the deaths of these
Muslims are not caused by police
brutality, nor do I wish to create a
comparison between the two, tak-
ing a step back and trying to under-
stand as best I can is something I
strive to do.

Thus, it is important to bear

in mind that allyship is not about
centering the voice of the ally, but
instead about amplifying marginal-
ized voices. This is why notions like
#AllLivesMatter are problematic,
as they diffuse attention from the
suffering of Black men and women
and undermines their voices. As
Mohsin said in his workshop, “You

do have to do this and you don’t get
a reward for it. You shouldn’t get
a prize for being an ally.” He later
continued, “It’s not the groups you
belong to that make you an ally, it’s
what you do in those moments.” No
social activist title or job, or even
political status, entitles people to
say slanderous things even behind
closed doors because if they do,
they are not being an ally.

I also attended a panel discus-

sion later in the day, where I got
the opportunity to ask a panel of
Black social activists about act-
ing as an ally. The answer that
resonated with me the most was
from Morgan (Mo) Man Wil-
lis, a consultant who has led the
Allied Media Conference since
2012, who said, “You should also
talk to your folks. Allyship is not
about inserting yourselves into
other
communities
and
being

like, ‘I’m here, put me to work!’
That’s great, we need that, too,
but allyship is really about when
nobody’s watching, you are still
standing for the things that you
declared allegiance to.” She later
continued, “How are you talking
to your folks who are embodying
their own forms and functions
of anti-Black racism or sexism
or other problematic oppressive
ideas.” This struck a chord with
me because when I reflect on my
own life, community and sphere
of influence, I can see how easy it
can sometimes be to forget that it
is in our personal lives or smaller
social media spheres where we
can have the greatest impact. We
know how our own communities
and friends sometimes view racial
and multiethnic groups in a nega-
tive light, and we are regularly
granted opportunities to change
that. It is the unglamourous work
of speaking up in these situations
that creates social change from
the ground up.

—Rabab Jafri can be reached

at rfjafri@umich.edu.

Social change from the ground up

Claire Bryan, Regan Detwiler, Caitlin Heenan, Jeremy Kaplan,

Ben Keller, Minsoo Kim, Payton Luokkala, Kit Maher, Madeline

Nowicki, Anna Polumbo-Levy, Jason Rowland, Lauren Schandevel,

Melissa Scholke, Kevin Sweitzer, Rebecca Tarnopol, Ashley

Tjhung, Stephanie Trierweiler, Hunter Zhao

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

J

on Bellion is set to release his debut
album under Capitol Records. On his
journey to a record deal, to comple-

ment the music he was
giving
away
for
free,

Bellion wrote songs for
larger
recording
art-

ists. Just for writing the
chorus to Eminem’s hit
single
“The
Monster,”

Bellion made six figures
in royalties. This market
for ghostwriters enables
musicians like Bellion to
fund their projects and
continue to release music
for free. In fact, it’s possi-
ble for songwriters uninterested in fame to
make a living only writing for other people.
Despite the financial gains that ghostwrit-
ing presents, this practice impedes creativi-
ty in the music industry.

The
idea
of
writ-

ing music for someone
else is strange. Music
is supposed to be per-
sonal. While collabora-
tion in the industry is
common, there is a fine
line between collabora-
tion and ghostwriting.
Though I disagree with
the practice of ghost-
writing, I can under-
stand
the
struggling

songwriter who needs the money. I can also
understand the talented songwriter who
doesn’t seek fame. But what about the plati-
num-selling recording artist that takes credit
for someone else’s work?

The reason artists who have already sold

out arenas, won Grammys and built platforms
for themselves still feel compelled to take
advantage of other songwriters is a simple
business decision. Hits pay the bills, which
is why some top-tier artists sacrifice origi-
nality for guaranteed cash cows. After a hit
song gets tirelessly run through Top 40 radio,
racks up millions of streams and downloads,
leads to sold-out shows and perhaps gets
licensed for use on a Taco Bell commercial, it
is amazing how much money it generates for
both the singer and original writer.

The idea that hits pay the bills has come

to dominate how the music industry oper-
ates — from the way record labels construct
rosters of artists to how albums are promot-
ed to the market for ghostwriters. Record
labels roll the dice by signing dozens of art-

ists in hopes that a few overachievers can
cover the costs of the rest of the company.
It sounds incredibly inefficient, but this
reflects the large disparity in earnings that
songs can generate.

Plenty of the biggest radio smash hits

of recent years had ghostwriters. Drake’s
“Hold On, We’re Going Home” was writ-
ten by Majid Jordan. Cee Lo Green’s “For-
get You” was written by a young Hawaiian
kid named Bruno Mars. Even Michael
Jackson’s “You Are Not Alone” was writ-
ten by future R&B star R. Kelly. Others
are easy to find because writing credits
are public and you can always find out
if your favorite song was ghostwritten
through a quick Wikipedia search.

Ghostwriting also occurs in another way

that’s equally bothersome. Record labels
will prop up their young and untested talent
by almost spoon-feeding them hit singles.

R&B singer Alessia Cara
is the perfect example. In
August, Cara released her
debut project under record
label Def Jam. Def Jam
took a risk on Cara, who
was first discovered as a
YouTube cover singer. To
minimize the risk of an
inexperienced songwriter,
Def Jam put Cara in the
studio with several more
experienced
songwrit-

ers and, just like that, her

chart-topping single “Here” was born. Jus-
tin Bieber’s “Baby” similarly helped kick off
his career, though Christina Milian was one
of many artists credited with writing the
hit. It’s a slightly different form of ghost-
writing, one initiated directly by the labels
themselves, but the consequences have the
same negative effects on creativity in the
music industry.

These problems inevitably arise when

music, or any art form for that matter,
becomes a profitable enterprise. The solu-
tion involves a world where there is less
demand for ghostwriters and more integrity
for the music. The burden is on the super-
stars. Don’t rush an artist like Frank Ocean
to put out his next album even though it’s
been four years since his last. If it takes
Ocean another four years, so be it. At least
it’s his own.

—Zach Brown can be reached

at zmbrown@umich.edu.

The market for ghostwriters

A

s I boarded the Ethiopian
Airlines plane last sum-
mer, prepared to embark

on
a
10-week

research
proj-

ect
examining

family
plan-

ning
policy

and messaging
among a small
subset of Ethio-
pian women, I
noticed a sur-
prising amount
of
passengers

wearing a cre-
ative array of
T-shirts supporting orphanages,
medical clinics and various other
honorable causes. Due to our prox-
imity, I could not help but over-
hear their conversations.

They talked at length about

their excitement at the prospect
of bettering the lives of Ethiopi-
ans. They extolled the perceived
benefits of their trip, providing
humanitarian assistance to Ethio-
pians, but neglected to mention
anything about what would hap-
pen after their departure.

Their conversation touched on an

interesting internal dialogue about
international
development
work

that continues to fascinate me.

To start, there is nothing wrong

with wanting to help people less
fortunate than you, and I am by no
means suggesting that any of the
people on my plane had nefarious
intentions. That being said, the
notion that we can fly somewhere
for a few days or weeks, partake in
some feel-good project and actu-
ally make substantive change is
rather perplexing.

This was not the first time I con-

fronted the issue of how to appro-
priately conduct work abroad. After
emigrating from South Africa at
age 8, I returned as a 12-year-old
and had the opportunity to visit an
HIV/AIDS orphanage in Soweto, a
township outside of Johannesburg.
While there, I met an 11-year-old
taking care of her younger siblings

following their parents’ deaths, who
shattered my illusions about the
Rainbow Nation. Collecting soccer
cleats for the orphans as my Bar
Mitzvah project certainly made me
feel better.

A few years later, during my

freshman year, I participated in
an Alternative Spring Break trip to
Nicaragua, where we bumbled our
way through diabetes awareness
meetings and clinic maintenance
tasks. In the process, my Spanish
improved (marginally) and I gained
a new perspective on how inconse-
quential short-term work can be.

Neither of these experiences

seemed to have a lasting, sustain-
able impact on the people I was sup-
posedly helping. Surely there is a
better way?

William Easterly, co-director

of the New York University Devel-
opment Research Institute, has
written on the tendency of aid
work to look for the “Next Big
Idea” to save the world, when no
such idea exists. His book “The
White Man’s Burden” discredits
the propensity of well-meaning
people to pursue grand gestures of
assistance that, in reality, struggle
to change anything. He advocates
tapping into the entrepreneurial
spirit endemic to areas lacking
institutional support in an effort
to empower locals to incremental-
ly better their communities.

This
approach,
however,
is

not particularly helpful for an
undergraduate student who lacks
the resources to undertake such
a project. How, then, can we as
students make a lasting impact,
despite the fact that we don’t have
the option to actually embed our-
selves in a community and allocate
the necessary time and resources
to enable its people?

Listening to my fellow travel-

ers, the cliché “first, do no harm”
came to mind. When we go abroad,
we must be sure to mitigate any
inadvertent negative effects on
those we intend to help. This prin-
ciple appears to apply when we are

undertaking short-term work and
should shape community service
work in any context.

However, if we have greater

ambitions while traveling than
having a new experience, we must
accept the responsibility to do some
research. A quick Google search
yields at least 74 non-governmental
organizations and 41 associations
working in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia’s
capital. There are likely more dis-
persed throughout the country.

This suggests that we should

hone our focus on a project or an
organization, particularly if it’s
based abroad, that heavily involves
local actors and focuses on building
a bilateral partnership, such that
its involvement means that foreign
intervention is no longer needed
down the road. This works to miti-
gate the fact that, as expressed in
Easterly’s book, international work
is grounded in a history of ulterior
and often unsavory motives.

One route, which I took in Ethio-

pia, is to work with an institution
that focuses on capacity building
and partnership through reciprocal
educational experiences, and train-
ing and retention of local expertise.
Michigan, for example, has impres-
sive programs, one of which I’ve
worked with, in Ghana and Ethiopia
for students to do just that.

With all of this in mind, per-

haps the ultimate goal should be to
avoid the paralysis that occasion-
ally accompanies nuanced think-
ing
surrounding
international

development — which may work to
dilute and potentially undermine
progress — and instead focus on
doing work that has been shown to
succeed in the specific context of
what we want to accomplish and
where we want to accomplish it.

If you’re more confused about

the impact of international work
than when you started reading,
though, don’t worry; as per usual,
so am I.

—Danny Sack can be reached

at sackd@umich.edu.

Approaching international work

DANNY
SACK

ZACH
BROWN

RABAB
JAFRI

“Hits pay the bills,
which is why some

top-tier artists

sacrifice originality

for guaranteed

cash cows.”

SANDERS From Page 1

This distinction, though, results in an odd
willingness among liberals to forsake the
ideas they support, from health care as a
human right to tuition-free higher educa-
tion, as fantasies. People who align idealis-
tically with Sanders will find themselves
hailing pragmatism and drifting toward
Hillaryland, saying, “In a perfect world, I’d
vote for him, but I just don’t think he can
pull it off,” or “Programs like that may work
in Sweden, but I can’t see them being imple-
mented in the United States.”

David
Brooks’
column
“Livin’
Ber-

nie Sanders’s Danish Dream” bemoans
the naiveté of millennials, supporting “a
guy who fundamentally wants to reshape
the American economic system, and thus
reshape American culture and values.” He
points out to Sanders’ supporters the litany
of horrible problems that plague European
countries operating under this brand of
socialism, including long wait times at the
doctor’s office and universities, as he puts it
articulately, becoming “less good.”

Allow me to rebut. Sanders’ idealism is

attempting to reshape the economic system
not to alter American values, but rather to
produce a system more compatible with our
values of equality and economic liberty. Liv-
ing in poverty and debt due to hospital bills,
a minimum wage below the poverty line or
tuition spikes should not be commonplace
in the wealthiest country on the planet.
When Democrats read articles like Brooks’
and make concessions about the principles
driving Sanders’ campaign, for the sake of
“realism” or of winning the general election
in November, they lose the touch with the
very basis of American liberalism, the idea
that the pursuit of equality and respect for
the rights of the individual result in a better
society for all.

Critics are not wrong when they point

out, as they frequently do, that Sanders
repeats himself a lot. He recycles riffs about
income inequality, campaign finance and
the criminal justice system. But why is this
a problem? What better indication could
there be for Democrats that he will not sub-

scribe to the custom in presidential elec-
tions of “running to the center of the road”
in hopes of attracting moderates and inde-
pendents when November comes?

As his remarks came to an end, the

74-year-old senator from Vermont remind-
ed his faithful that “thinking small” is part
of the status quo. He then called on them
to “think big,” but the crowd was unsatis-
fied. Hearing the impression of his thick
New York accent rippling through the
crowd, Sanders obliged and corrected him-
self —think “yuuuuuuge.” And why not?
The best campaigns are composed of ideas,
like Obama’s in 2008 preaching “Hope” and
“Yes We Can.”

Of course, pragmatism is important in

the public discourse. But in campaign sea-
son, with four years of governing ahead of
the 45th president to iron out the kinks and
navigate the legislative challenges, pragma-
tism cannot define your vote. That is mis-
placed caution, casting a ballot based on
what others tell you, rather than what you
believe, is possible. If you do not believe that
health care is a human right, that higher
education should be debt-free or that the
minimum wage should be $15 per hour, do
not vote for Bernie Sanders. However, if you
support those ideas but will vote for Hillary
Clinton because she’s more realistic, take a
minute to consider whether that vote would
truly represent you.

Idealism is not a vice. Idealism drives the

Sanders campaign. Idealism made thou-
sands upon thousands of feet stomp and
shake the arena Monday afternoon. Ideal-
ism attracts voters from every generation to
the same, singular man. Idealism won the
New Hampshire primary and nearly tied
the Iowa caucus.

Bernie Sanders is a 21st century Don

Quixote, tilting at windmills to undo
wrongs and bring justice to the world. So,
instead of running scared or clinging to a
fabricated definition of pragmatism, liber-
als should recognize Sanders for what he is:
their very own knight.

—Brett Graham can be reached

at btgraham@umich.edu.

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