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, March 10, 2016

T

he winter of my freshman 
year, I met a boy in class 
who I liked. Let’s call him 

Greg. We got along well, held 
similar family values and both 
ran 
Instagram 

accounts 
for 

our pet dogs. It 
was a perfect 
match, 
right? 

Despite the fact 
that Greg and 
I spent endless 
time together in 
social 
settings 

and in the UGLi, 
our relationship 
never 
seemed 

to 
progress. 

Almost a full year later, deep 
into a serious relationship with 
a different boy, I decided to ask 
Greg why he had never seemed to 
reciprocate my obvious affection. 
“I liked hanging out with you, but 
I really didn’t want to commit to 
anything,” he casually wrote me 
over text. All this time I’d been 
thinking Greg never liked me 
when, in reality, Greg was scared 
I might hoodwink him into being 
my boyfriend.

In my experience, one of my 

generation’s 
favorite 
activities 

is 
complaining 
about 
hookup 

culture. Recently, however, I have 
noticed a common misconception 
about hookup culture: a gap 
between the genders. Women have 
come to believe that all men want 
is an easy lay and then to ignore 
them on the Diag. Meanwhile, 

men have come to believe that all 
a woman wants is an emotional 
connection and a bouquet of roses 
on Valentine’s Day.

Love is a complicated game and 

the dating scene at Michigan is 
extremely hard to navigate, but this 
strong set of beliefs often doesn’t 
hold true. I have heard stories: 
“Every time he takes someone to 
a date party, he takes them out 
to dinner beforehand — isn’t that 
weird?” That’s right ladies, there is 
a boy out there who wants to take 
you out on a date. Girls have grown 
accustomed to feelings of confusion 
and surprise when a boy shows 
genuine interest and even — gasp! 
— desire to get a meal with them. 
My personal favorite line used on a 
female friend recently: “Maybe we 
could do something sober together 
next week.”

Meanwhile, in “girl world” as 

they call it in Tina Fey’s “Mean 
Girls,” 
the 
complete 
opposite 

development 
is 
happening. 

Newsflash for the gentlemen: 
Not all women are trying to tie 
you down for life! College-aged 
“dudes” are afraid their friends 
might 
tease 
them 
for 
being 

“whipped,” meaning they’ll do 
anything for their girl, or “wifed-
up,” meaning they and their 
partners act like a married couple. 
I have watched countless boys lose 
their opportunities with great girls 
because they fear they are walking 
into a relationship. Just as much 
as guys sometimes want an “easy 
lay,” so do girls. I’d even argue a 

double standard exists. Boys are 
constantly judged for using girls 
for sex, but girls manage to avoid 
judgment when they do the same.

We 
have 
to 
stop 
making 

assumptions about someone of 
the opposite sex’s agenda because 
it might be completely different 
from what one may expect. I’ve 
been in situations where a boy 
is trying to tie me down and I 
am trying to be free, and vice 
versa. It is difficult not to make 
assumptions when getting to know 
someone, but these assumptions 
hurt our ability to progress. 
These 
assumptions 
cause 
us 

harm, as we lose opportunities 
on both sides. We are losing 
opportunities to form good, strong 
relationships, and opportunities 
to have expectations-free sex from 
someone we are attracted to, but 
not necessarily interested in for a 
relationship.

So men, I urge you to be open-

minded toward women’s affection, 
and to not assume she wants a 
relationship, because she may not. 
And women, I urge you to be open-
minded toward men’s affection. 
Don’t assume he wants sex and 
nothing else. People will surprise 
you. Until you talk through it, or 
not talk about it at all and instead 
focus on the physical, you can’t make 
decisions to start or end a relationship 
without the other person involved in 
those very decisions.

Alison Schalop can be reached 

at aschalop@umich.edu.

We don’t want relationships either

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

ALISON 

SCHALOP

Y

ou consider your family:

1. Upper class
2. Middle class

3. Lower class
Every 
time 

I 
encounter 
a 

question 
like 

the one above, 
I’m 
stupified. 

The distinction 
between classes 
is so ambiguous 
and 
my 

experiences 
so 

unquantifiable 
that 
I 
never 

quite know how 
to answer.

Like 47 percent of the U.S. 

population, 
I 
considered 
my 

family solidly “middle class” for 
most of my adolescent life — I 
hadn’t realized there are actually 
four distinct middle classes. I 
grew up in a small farm town that 
my dad had never left and that 
my mom had moved to from the 
outskirts of Jackson County. For 
the first 12 years of my life, my dad 
owned and operated a sheet metal 
fabrication business on the edge of 
the village limits. After marrying 
my dad, my mom worked as the 
shop secretary. It was the 1990s 
and the manufacturing industry 
was booming.

In 1992, my parents bought a 

one-bathroom, 
two-bedroom, 

three-story house on Main Street 
in Parma, MI for around $30,000. 
By 1996, my parents had four kids, 
a house double its original size and 
a 
successful 
industry-centered 

business.

During my early elementary 

years, my family had a weekly 
housekeeper, two lots we rented 
at a campground an hour away, a 
large-sized boat (paid for in cash) 
and three gas-guzzling vehicles. 
Presents littered our backroom 
Christmas 
morning 
and 
our 

birthdays were lavishly celebrated.

Though I’ve never asked my 

parents about their annual income 
during the first years of my life, 
I know they made more than the 
people we acquainted ourselves 
with. My sister, brothers and I 
reminisce on this period of our 
lives as the glory days: In my naive, 
childish 
perception, 
we 
were 

Parma’s version of “upper class.” 
But really, it was the beginning of 
the end.

Less 
than 
10 
years 
later, 

a 
combination 
of 
mental 

illnesses, 
addiction, 
financial 

irresponsibility, 
ignorance 
and 

systematic influences led to a 
drastic change in our lives.

By 2006, my parents struggled 

to put food on our table. My dad 
lost his fabrication shop and 
was consumed by debt. Both my 
dad and my youngest brother, 
separately, spent a week in the 
hospital, resulting in astronomical 
medical bills. The campground 
we had once vacationed at nearly 
every weekend held our camper 
as collateral for the money my 
parents owed. Child Protective 
Services 
visited 
our 
house 

claiming our toilets didn’t work 
and that my parents had no food to 
feed us.

My mother dragged my brothers 

and I along as she picked up 
random custodial jobs in the area: 
the Vietnam veteran’s residence in 
the trailer park down the street; 
the giant Methodist church in 
the town north of ours; the fur-
covered, nearly-condemned trailer 
of the angry old man with shingles. 
Meanwhile, our own house looked 
like an animal shelter littered with 
remnants of junk food. The bank 
sent several foreclosure notices. 
My dad borrowed money to keep 
our home. 

However, in the second half of 

2008, our economic status shifted 
once again — this time for the better. 

My mom secured a stable job 

(that she still has to this day) and 
my dad controlled his drinking 
enough to hold a credible reputation 
with his employer. My parents were 
constantly fighting, but our family 
was able to retain some normalcy. 
Things seemed OK for the time being.

When I first applied to FAFSA 

during my senior year of high school 
in 2011, according to the numbers, 
my family was probably considered 
upper-middle class. Though physically 
separated, my parents were not legally 
separated, and so their combined 
income was about $100,000 — well 
above Michigan’s current median 
household income of $49,847. During 
my first semester of college, my family 
was expected to contribute over 
$4,000 to my education, an amount 
that’s easily attainable for most higher-
income families.

Yet, two days before moving 

into my dormitory, my dad was 
permanently “laid off” from his job 
of five years. My 21-year-old sister 

and her newly-wedded husband 
were struggling to support their 
two children. My youngest brother 
was constantly in legal trouble. I 
was the only one in my family who 
wanted to go to college; putting 
aside money for my education when 
we lived day-by-day was a joke.

Since 
then, 
my 
family’s 

economic struggles have been an 
uphill battle. In the 10 semesters 
I have been enrolled at the 
University, I have yet to pay the 
remaining balance on my account 
— my expected family contribution 
— on time. Each semester, I 
become more and more anxious, 
constantly calling my mom as the 
end of the semester approaches. 
In the second semester of my 
sophomore year, my mom couldn’t 
afford the $2,000 we still owed. I 
took out a personal loan through 
our local credit union and made 
monthly payments for two years 
until it was paid off.

Today, I don’t know what to call 

myself.

My dad works as a welder at a 

car-parts factory. My stepmom is a 
third-shift stocker at Meijer. Their 
combined income is part of the 
“working middle-class.”

My mom still works at the 

company she applied to in 2008. 
Her salary has only increased as 
the years have passed. Last year, 
she married my now-stepdad, who 
works in a top managerial position 
in his industry. Combined, they 
make more than 90 percent of 
what most U.S. households earn: 
definitely upper-class. 

For the past three years — before 

my 
stepmom 
started 
working 

again and before ever meeting my 
stepdad — I have worked 30+ hours 
a week to support myself. I pay for 
everything except my vehicle (the 
aforementioned loan was meant 
for a car, so after the semester was 
paid for, my mom bought me one). 
I’m incredibly lucky to have parents 
who are willing to try to help me 
when I need it.

I know what it’s like to be rich, 

but I didn’t grow up wealthy. I know 
what it’s like to be poor, but I didn’t 
grow up in poverty. I don’t know what 
socioeconomic class I’m supposed to 
consider myself anymore, but there 
is one thing I do know: there are 
nuances in the numbers.

Aarica Marsh can be reached 

at aaricama@umich.edu.

Nuances in the numbers

AARICA 

MARSH

E-mail JoE at Jiovino@umich.Edu
JOE IOVINO

FROM THE DAILY

Budget fails to help schools in need 

Higher-ed funding increased, but evaluations remain unfair
G

ov. Rick Snyder cut 15 percent of higher-education funding 
at the beginning of his first term as governor of Michigan 
in 2011, heavily affecting 15 public universities and colleges, 

including the University of Michigan. Snyder has since incrementally 
increased state funding for higher education, and the increase 
proposed for the 2017 budget will allow funding levels to return to 
those of 2011. Funding allocated to higher education will increase 
by $61.2 million, with a cap on public university tuition hikes at 
4.8 percent as a condition for receiving some of the funds. This is 
uncharacteristically generous compared to last year’s $28 million in 
funding and a 3.2-percent cap on tuition increases.

However, it is important to note that not all 

schools benefit equally from this increase in 
funding. Instead, schools are evaluated and 
deemed deserving of different levels of funding 
based on criteria that deceivingly slights some 
schools. While it is encouraging to Michigan 
residents that stronger efforts are being made 
to support the state’s higher education system, 
measurement of each university’s performance 
should correspond to each university’s specific 
goals and demographic composition.

Schools receive funding for two different 

purposes: costs of everyday operation and 
performance-based spending. Operational 
funding is tied to university activities and 
helps 
run 
schools, 
while 
performance 

funding is incentivized by a standardized 
performance evaluation — and performance 
funding is the type Snyder is increasing with 
his new budget proposal.

This 
type 
of 
funding 
takes 
three 

categories into consideration for each school: 
undergraduate degree completions in critical 
skills 
areas, 
research 
and 
development 

expenses and national rankings to Carnegie 
peers. National rankings depend upon six-year 
graduation rates, total degree completions, 
institutional support and number of Pell 
Grant recipients from each school. The 
highest-performing schools in all categories 
subsequently receive the highest percentage 
increase in funding, but this trend punishes 
schools that perform poorly by denying them 
the appropriate funds to succeed in the future.

Students at such schools are suffering as 

well. Schools such as Wayne State University 
and Grand Valley State University, which tend 
to perform the worst on the standardized 
criteria for funding evaluation — including 
graduation and retention rates — are the same 
schools dedicated to admitting students from 
urban areas. The goal of increased funding is 
to better support universities and colleges, but 
the current system ultimately benefits those 
already doing well and harms those who need 
more assistance.

Wayne State University is expecting 

this year to be the fifth consecutive year 
yielding the statewide lowest percentage 
of funding increase. Wayne State follows a 

mission statement rooted in helping at-risk 
students, and therefore cannot compete 
with 
the 
schools 
receiving 
the 
most 

funding. It is slated to receive a 3.5-percent 
increase. This is contrary to the schools 
receiving the most funding, such as Grand 
Valley State University, which is planned to 
receive 6.8-percent increase. These schools 
are intentionally designed to do well on 
evaluations such as the performance funding 
model.

In addition to hurting schools who have 

fewer resources but also have goals to aid 
students of lower socioeconomic status, the 
current evaluation system rewards schools that 
have previously disregarded the tuition cap set 
by the state. Oakland University, for example, is 
scheduled for a 6.1-percent increase in funding, 
despite raising tuition last year above the 
maximum 3.2-percent increase.

The current system used to evaluate schools’ 

performances is too standardized. It does 
not account for the unique needs of certain 
institutions that cater to students who simply 
cannot compete with students from other 
institutions. Ultimately, the current metrics 
funding model does not adequately meet 
the needs of all students. Rather, it gives the 
biggest benefit through a large sum of money to 
students who already attend colleges capable of 
offering superb education.

It is refreshing to see Snyder acting to benefit 

Michigan residents, but the execution of this 
funding plan prevents those in most dire need 
of funding from getting the appropriate and fair 
amount. Though the idea of doling out funds 
based on meritocracy does not need to change, 
the value of such funds given to schools cannot 
be determined by a standardized test that 
cannot possibly take the school’s personal goals 
and situation into consideration.

The manner in which schools are evaluated 

for increased funding should instead be more 
individualized. A new evaluation system 
should be adopted to allow schools to be 
judged based on how well they are meeting 
their own goals given their individual 
circumstances, rather than how well they fit 
into the current mold.

