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 4A — Thursday, February 25, 2016 E-mail anniE at asturpin@umich.Edu ANNIE TURPIN The best revenge is your paper As he entered the polished ware- house to raucous applause, Sen. Marco Rubio (R–Fla.) stepped up to the stage flanked by signs that read: “End the debt.” If only it was that simple. Curiously, he chose to hold this rally — the same night as the Nevada caucuses — at Lacks Enter- prises just outside of Grand Rapids, a seemingly indistinguishable cor- porate office on an average service road. Maybe because it was home to a private enterprise, a facet of our economy that Rubio described as “the only economic model in the world where you make poor people rich without making rich people poor.” This style of verbose rheto- ric made up almost the entirety of his speech. I struggled to tally the number of times he empha- sized how this election was “the most important one” of our time. He railed against Democratic can- didates Bernie Sanders — whom he described as a “nice guy, here’s the problem: He’s a socialist” — and Hillary Clinton — whom he said was “disqualified” from being president because she “lied to the families of American servicemen,” referencing the Benghazi scandal. He denounced President Obama, and the crowd roared. He detested the closing of the Guantanamo Bay detention center, and pandemo- nium ensued. Though Rubio has recently been criticized for sticking to a script, he did just that. Nevertheless, his message was clear and concise, though at times he subtly contradicted himself. If he went off track denouncing Democrats, he would immediately flip the script and espouse optimism in statements such as, “When I’m president, I will be the president for all Americans, not just those who voted for me.” In my mind, Rubio’s self-identi- fied pure conservatism is still up for debate. Though on some issues, it’s undeniable. A consistent war hawk in the Senate, Rubio broached the subject of national defense by stat- ing, “My number-one priority is to undertake a Reagan-style rebuild- ing of the military.” To a nation that, after over a decade of constant war, should be weary of military conflict, it’s hard to imagine this message would resonate with the American public at large. But to an increasing- ly far-right Republican voter base, it is music to frustrated ears. What remains to be seen is how exactly he would go about accom- plishing all of what he expresses in his lofty rhetoric. To close a segment on how student loans are extraor- dinarily burdensome for college graduates, he attempted to reassure the crowd: “We have a plan for that.” When he spoke of numerous foreign policy conundrums, he said current- ly we have a “symbolic war on terror. I will bring a real war.” What that meant exactly is of critical impor- tance, but at this juncture in the race, there’s no impetus for Rubio to provide specific policies, especially when his chief rival resorts to big- otry and self-aggrandizement as a way of garnering voters (seemingly a great tactic nowadays). Primaries are primaries; can- didates will always put on a guise of ideological consistency during this time, when party voters would rather listen to Obama-bashing than images of future compromise. Rubio has been extraordinarily successful to this end. Yet, he has apparently become the one person who can bridge the pragmatism of establishment Republicans with the brash ideologues of the Tea Party faction. Near the end of the rally, a gentle- man standing in front of me turned around and said, “He’s doing a great job, isn’t he?” In an effort to appear impartial, I shrugged. How- ever, in my mind I pondered why Rubio wasn’t leading the polls if he constantly performed as he did Tuesday night. He has tremendous appeal, even to more moderate voters. A fresh face, Cuban roots, compassionate conservative foun- dations, a successful legislative career; just switch out the race and ideology and you have a close copy of Barack Obama in 2008. The problem for Rubio seems to be an electorate that doesn’t fit with his message. The country is different now, and the current campaign cycle certainly illustrates this point. Gone are the days of “hope and change.” Now, at least in Republican circles, the message has become akin to: “Doom and gloom, but I can fix it.” Rubio’s fleeting optimistic enthu- siasm regarding the future may be too late. As Donald Trump’s ascen- dency becomes reality, it is evident that a candidate’s tone should match voters’ outlook: anger. Rubio has increased this form of bombast, but at this point, he needs to increase his delegate count. The road ahead for Rubio is riddled with obstacles. Upcoming primaries look favorable to Trump, who, with recent victories in New Hampshire, South Carolina and now Nevada, could virtually lock up the nomination with a sweep of South- ern states. Moreover, the remaining mainstream candidates continue to nab potential voters from Rubio, namely Gov. John Kasich of Ohio. Thus, don’t be surprised if we start hearing more and more desperation eek from Rubio’s stump speeches as the final hour draws nearer. For the sake of the Republican Party, Rubio should be the nominee. Obviously, he’s not the perfect can- didate. His aggressive foreign policy and ultra-conservatism regarding social issues certainly make him less palatable in a general election. It is also disconcerting to hear nothing substantive from him, but again, this isn’t a surprise in today’s Republi- can primary. But, juxtaposed with the option of Trump or Ted Cruz, there’s no deliberating. If Republi- cans want to win in November, they should start flocking behind Rubio. Ideally, his disposition will calm during a general election. For now, let’s just hope he gets there. — Ben Keller can be reached at benkeller@umich.edu The curious case of Marco Rubio B eauty, perseverance and possibility: three adjectives that embody the blend of attendees of the 21st annual Black Solidarity Conference. Over this past Valentine’s Day weekend, more than 400 Black college students representing 50 colleges and universities nation- wide networked with one another and participated in small group discussions at Yale University. The series of college uprisings regard- ing race relations over the past few years set the tone for the conference, titled “The Miseducation: Changing History as We Know It.” In anticipation of the conference, I was elat- ed with the idea of being surrounded by young Black people uniting themselves in a space to learn and heal from the ongoing physical, political and economic violence administered against Black bodies. But by the time the con- ference concluded, I felt slightly underwhelmed by the conversations taking place. Instead of the conference serving as a place for sharing best practices for protesting, creating tangible demands and building cross-campus alliances, our comments largely centered around the growing pains of being Black at a predominate- ly white institution. The barriers to inclusion, diversity and equity of Black university students at predomi- nantly white institutions are obvious flaws in higher education institutions that students can easily rally around. However, the more obscure but ever-present symptom of systemic oppres- sion is the overlap of class and race. The con- sequences of systemic oppression on race and class have been conjoined as the thesis for Black mobilization, without critical examination of their intersectionality in contemporary Black movements. In consequence, some of the Black university students’ demands for racial justice can be narrow in scope. At the BSC, I could not help but notice that there were no community college students or nontraditional students in attendance. Stu- dents at the conference primarily attended elite institutions. In the workshop titled Why Class Matters, the majority of attendees were from professional middle-class families, and a few students were from working-class families. We were able to afford the time and money to spend a weekend at Yale discussing issues pertinent to the Black community. As much as I had anticipated learning pro- testing strategies from university students at this conference, I realized that the majority of Black social movements across the United States this year were grassroots-organized, and largely led and participated by working-class Black people. Where were their voices in this conversation? The voices of the working-class Black activists who protested in Chicago, Bal- timore, Cincinnati and Ferguson. The voices of Detroit community organizers who make time to enact social change in their neighborhoods. The students of BSC were a fusion of activ- ists and academics in the making. Both are necessary for collective movement building. Academics and activists come from a diversity of class statuses; their class backgrounds serve as examples for building mixed-class coali- tions for racial justice. The impact of class on the structural violence that takes place in Black communities underlies the overarch- ing goal of racial justice. Without directly addressing class, how can we accurately and authentically ensure all Black interests con- tribute to the movement? American historian Henry Louis Gates Jr. said, “The class divide is, in my opinion, one of the most important and overlooked factors in the rise of Black Lives Matter, led by a new generation of college graduates and students.” The Why Class Matters workshop facilitator used Gates’ statement to highlight that Afri- can Americans have primarily focused their efforts on fighting racial injustice, so much so that addressing class impacts has been on the peripheral of modern racial justice movements. In my opinion, the class divide within Black America is not overlooked, but collateral to cur- rent racial justice demands. After all, racism is inherently intertwined with economic, politi- cal and social injustice, and therefore cannot be completely untied to the struggle for racial justice and social equity. Throughout history, Blacks have consistently called for better hous- ing policies, living wage rates, and equal access to quality education and health care. Booker T. Washington beckoned African Americans to concentrate their energy on industrial education and accumulating wealth. The Black Panther Party’s Ten-Point Program demanded tangible policies that tackled eco- nomic inequality as a means to obtain racial equity. Today’s racial wealth gap is wider than it was in the 1960s. Economic mobility has always been a priority in Black liberation. Income and wealth divides within Black America have generated a secondary marginalization of low- income Black people that social movements indirectly address. The Black Lives Matter movement’s guiding principles do not explicitly state economic justice as a platform, but says it could be encompassed in the “Black families,” “Black villages” and “collective value” precepts. The assessment of class impacts on Black movements needs to be more intentional in order to mobilize direct action for racial jus- tice that is inclusive of all Black Americans. The lack of intentional reflection about class explains why class is not overtly included in the framework of current racial movements. How often do we ask ourselves what the strengths and limitations of our class back- grounds are, and examine how our backgrounds inform our approach to racial injustice? How can we be more inclusive in ensuring all class divisions — poor, working class, professional middle class, upper class and even a portion of the “1 percent” — have their voices and interests in conversations around social change? Discussing class is a messy topic. I left that workshop with more questions than answers, but I came to two realizations: 1. Cross-class alliance building is fundamental to securing Black liberation by helping the most mar- ginalized populations and 2. Beyoncé wisely noted that the best revenge is our paper, and Blacks need to ensure everyone has the paper to bring our material and political aspirations to actualization. — Alexis Farmer can be reached at akfarmer@umich.edu. I n Michael Moore’s newest film, “Where to Invade Next,” Moore goes on an international tour in order to “steal” the best aspects of other countries’ social politics. The film, which is an almost-two-hour critique of Amer- ica’s social fab- ric — its schools, its prisons, its eroding middle class — some- how conveys a profound sense of optimism. Moore ends the film by reminding us that other nations’ current bustling, successful systems derive from methods and notions first developed in the United States. In order for us to change our ways, he says, we must only look inward, to our past, to ourselves. In other words, the power lies within us to create the world that many so desperately seek: a world that, poetically, might include ele- mentary school students — regard- less of socioeconomic status — being fed gourmet lunches by real chefs, or prisoners — no matter how severe their crimes — being placed in pris- ons where rehabilitation and re- entrance are actually possible, or teenagers attending world-class uni- versities for free. This message — turning inward to drive us forward — represents democratic empowerment. No mat- ter who you are, inherently, as an American, you have the right, and thus, potentially, the power to cre- ate the change you seek. This idea rests at the heart of “equality,” the core principal of our founding docu- ments. And yet today, in our political discourse, this kind of empower- ment is derided as overly “optimis- tic,” as far too “ideal” of a wish. Despite the film’s relentless, empirical critique of how we con- duct ourselves today, it is a classically American text. The very idea of open- ing a dialogue that allows for criticism is an extension of this idea of “equal- ity”: Together, by honestly examining what our brothers and sisters around the world are doing best, we can bet- ter ourselves, we can learn, we can become equally egalitarian. In the film’s final scene, Moore walks next to what remains of the Berlin Wall, a divide that, as Moore remarks, was once built to stand for eternity, but was actually torn down in just a matter of years. One can imagine the minds of those people who fought for its destruction — despite every societal force stacking up against them, they had a vision for the world within them, and that vision drove their actions. Moore, who by the film’s end dubs himself an “idealist,” has created a pro- foundly optimistic text: By looking inward to our pasts as Americans as well as to our comrades’ efforts from across the oceans, we can real- ize even our wildest ideals. And this classically American film, furthermore, ought to inform how we locate ourselves along the political spectrum during this ongoing election season. Over the past several weeks, my friends have often asked me to give my pitch about why I wholeheartedly sup- port Bernie Sanders. After I dis- cuss his policies, his integrity and his boldness, my friends will often say something to the effect of: “Oh yeah, that would all be nice, but it’s just too idealistic of a vision.” Moore’s film speaks volumes about the numbness and insensibil- ity of this notion that we ought not strive toward idealism and instead settle for the system under which we currently live. It seems these friends of mine do not believe that the type of radical social change that Moore directly observes has taken place in the world. These friends of mine do not believe that this kind of change can happen here, nor that we ought to vote for a system whose leader is proposing that it might. I don’t want to use this as a plat- form to advocate for my political beliefs — by all means, support whomever you wish. I just cannot fathom why or how we have, some- where along the line, lowered our expectations for what is possible by such a great margin to the point that the world that we all wish to one day inhabit — which, for a moment at least, comes alive through bits and pieces from throughout the world in Moore’s masterpiece — is unrealizable, a fantasy. As a heterosexual white man, soci- ety has never institutionally tried to shut me up. I understand that mil- lions of people, because of identi- ties out of their control, have been and will continue to be kicked to the curb and silenced by our world that prefers and judges people based on their given identities. This becomes an opportunity for the rest of us — the privileged rest of us, who are not societally and institutionally targeted for certain identities and circumstances beyond our control — to fight. Everyone, then, from those people who society has institution- ally marginalized to those it has left untouched, has an opportunity to fight together. Those who dismiss these con- cepts as too idealistic need only to examine the United States’ his- tory to find a long-lasting, deeply impactful social movement whose core philosophy was one of mutual respect and love. In “The Power of Non-violence,” Martin Luther King Jr. describes a kind of “agape love,” one that is neither aesthetic nor reciprocated. Yet he believes agape love to be a catalyzing idea that all Americans must adopt: “And when you come to love on this level you begin to love men not because they are likeable … but because God loves them and here we love the person who does the evil deed while hating the deed the person does.” Instead of giving up, we ought to fight, and within this activism lies the truest form of love: the belief that we are all divine, we all con- tain the potential for divinity. As Moore’s film argues, egalitarian generosity lies deeply within the fabric of American society. I would characterize this rejection of idealism both as cowardly and self- ish. If you believe this world is good enough, that our country is living up to its standards, then you are ignoring the realities of millions of your broth- ers and sisters, millions of your fellow Americans, who did just as little to arrive in their circumstances as you did to arrive in yours. Acknowledge your privilege as someone the world has, for no real reason at all, selected to spare, and then use your place in soci- ety to advocate for the basic liberties of the rest of our populus. The optimism of Moore’s film comes from its belief that change, inherently, lies within us. It preaches a message of empowerment. This “ideal” vision should not be castigat- ed, because it is a vision that includes a people who are ideal toward each other, a people who fight for each other. And we are that people. To dismiss the ideal is to say that you are not capable of such generosity, of such strength. And I think that’s a tragedy. When did it become so outlandish to believe that you can be whatever you wish? Moore’s film advocates for gener- osity on a national scale among citi- zens. We must collectively believe we are capable of this kind of inter- mingling. Otherwise, who are we? An acceptingly, admittedly cruel people? I reject that. — Isaiah Zeavin-Moss can be reached at izeavinm@umich.edu. Invasion of our idealism ISAIAH ZEAVIN-MOSS BEN KELLER | OP-ED 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 ALEXIS FARMER Landmark resident uses blank loading screen to ease social discomfort.