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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

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