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
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The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Tuesday, March 29, 2016
I
am not a fan of socially awkward
situations. I turn away from people
breaking
up
in
public
to
avoid
any
semblance
of
confrontation.
Telling
a student government
candidate I don’t want to
vote for them on the Diag
makes my skin crawl.
Waving
at
somebody
that I had class with
freshman year only to
have them not remember
me
is
my
real-life
manifestation of hell.
One of the first things
I learned when I arrived
at the University of Michigan was that
headphones block out most of these socially
awkward situations. Headphones, as a social
signaling device, tell passing individuals that
I don’t want to talk to them (and couldn’t hear
them if they tried to ignore this sign). So far,
the efficacy of this method is pretty solid;
it is rare for somebody to come up to me in
public while I’m blaring Justin Bieber’s new
single through my massive SOL Republic
headphones. Headphone use in public, it
seems, is one of the most impactful habits I
have developed in my time at the University.
Back in high school, when I didn’t have the
freedom to use my phone or other devices
in school, I used to talk to pretty much
anybody I walked past. I prided myself on
knowing almost all of my peers by name,
though my school’s relatively miniscule
population helped. This trend seemed to be
indicative of the social situation put forth by
the school environment: Nobody had phones
or headphones, so our social interaction was
more public and interconnected.
As a result of my social fluidity, my distaste
for socially awkward situations seemed to
mellow. Like how lifting weights makes a
person stronger, engaging with people made
me less socially apprehensive. Over time, I
developed a social strength that made me
feel confident, happy and, most importantly,
engaged with the world around me. This
derivation of the social learning theory
allowed me to grow with my everyday social
interactions.
Though the social dynamics of a huge
public institution like the University — and,
consequently, a bustling Midwestern city
like Ann Arbor — are notably different than
those of my rural high school, translating
my high school sociability doesn’t seem
impossible to me.
Over the past few months, I have made
a concerted effort to not wear headphones
while walking to class all the time. Though
I don’t talk to every person I pass, I feel that
my social anxiety has lessened with each
passing awkward-esque interaction. Talking
to solicitors while waiting for a crosswalk to
open doesn’t make me want to sprint in the
opposite direction. I can make eye contact
with a fellow human being without wanting
to curl up in a ball and hide me forever. In
essence, I am regaining the strength I once
had in high school.
There are still days when I wear
headphones in public. Sometimes I just need
to get hyped up for an exam (that I know,
deep down, I’m doomed to fail). Other times,
it is nice to just have a soundtrack for a
beautiful Michigan spring afternoon. Finally,
there are just some days when I don’t want to
talk to anybody while walking to my 8 a.m.
discussion section. There is nothing wrong
with these desires and my intent is not to
demonize headphones, cell phones or any
individual that displays social myopia.
However,
these
instances
cannot
overtake our lives. With the advent of new
technologies like the Internet, smartphones
and other devices, some have envisioned
future societies that simply do not interact
with one another in public. The 2013 movie
“Her” featured a man falling in love with the
computer that lived in his wireless earbud.
“WALL-E,” the futuristic animated movie,
showed the world as a mass of screen-
connected amorphous blobs that didn’t look
at one another, let alone talk to one another.
These are worse-case scenarios facilitated by
new technologies.
With the mass introduction of “Her”-esque
Bragi Dash earbuds that rest wirelessly in our
ear canals (with similar moves by companies like
Apple), it is easy to get cynical. However, these
new technologies do nothing to force people into
sound bubbles. Nothing about new headphones,
or even our existing corded earbuds, force us into
avoiding social interaction.
It is human nature to avoid things that
make us uncomfortable. New technologies
do facilitate our ability to focus on things that
make us feel comfortable. But, as any college
professor can tell you, comfortable isn’t
always the best state of being, nor one that will
be infinitely achievable.
We will not be able to ignore breakups in
public when we are involved, so maybe we
should learn how to deal with them when
we’re not involved. It’s inevitable that we will
have to greet somebody that maybe doesn’t
remember our names, so maybe we should
practice the awkward task sooner rather than
later. By practicing with the trials of everyday
public social interaction, we can better
prepare ourselves for the instances in which
we care to interact, as even these voluntary
situations can be awkward.
It is human nature for awkward situations
to arise. But maybe instead of running away
from these situations or enclosing ourselves in
our headphones, we should just be awkward
sometimes. We just might learn how to be less
awkward in the future.
— Elliott Rains can be reached
at erains@umich.edu
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
— The New York Times Editorial Board, on the Flint water crisis.
“
NOTABLE QUOTABLE
Congress, which has refused to invest
sufficiently in the nation’s public
works and has been antagonistic to
environmental protection, must also
learn from the crisis.
W
hen I look back on my past
three years of college,
I have a lot of mixed
feelings. I grew up in Ann Arbor
and was inevitably a Birkenstock-
wearing tomboy who wasn’t too
excited about life in college because
this was already my home. The Big
House was just “the stadium,” and I
hated the drunken college students
who would yell at us when we would
drive by like they owned the town,
when it was actually mine.
I bought my first pair of heels
about two weeks into college because
I was told that I should have a pair
of wedges for sorority recruitment.
I looked like a chicken walking
uncomfortably in thick tan heels
from house to house and had no
desire to pretend I was anything but
an Ann Arbor girl who really just
wanted to find a new place within my
home. I went to mixers, date parties
and late nights and had a blast. I had
a really fun time doing fun things,
mindless things.
I had a really fun time until I
realized I had no idea who I had
become or what I wanted. I was in
a place, unaware of how I’d gotten
there, and at a loss as to how to move
forward. I thought I was the only
one in this school who was scared
shitless about the future. However,
I soon realized that I was actually
in the majority of students on this
campus who have no idea what they
really want and are just finding their
way one step at a time.
I relied on people more than I
wanted to, but soon learned that it
was OK and normal to do so. I hated
the fact that I wasn’t perfect and
couldn’t control everything. No one
told me that college isn’t all just one
big party, late-night study session,
exam or paper; it’s just four years of
your life. I had this idea that I needed
to be a certain person, make regular
appearances at Skeeps or Rick’s and
prioritize my wardrobe, and it took
me three years to finally ignore those
and just do what I wanted. It took me
three years to prioritize myself.
I tried to talk myself out of my
major for two years. People told me
that English was just a lot of reading
and talking. Well, it is. It’s a lot of
reading and even more writing. But
it’s also a lot of work. I’ve gotten
to write about the perspective of
flowers, the female perspective of
dominant male figures in Greek
mythology, the relationship between
magical realism and surrealism and
the character development in Charles
Dickens novels. I really couldn’t be
happier. I’ll graduate with a double
major in English and political science
on April 30.
This school is huge. I’ve had my
fair share of challenges navigating
it even though I grew up here. I’ve
had to sacrifice friendships, make
hard decisions and push through
some really challenging times. But
the thing that no one tells you is
that so does everyone. I’ve realized
that more people on this campus
fight battles every day than anyone
ever tells you. Yes, we can all go to
Skeeps and Rick’s and pretend like
we’re fine even if we aren’t. We can
hug and complement each other’s
lipstick color or necklace, vineyard
vines shirt or Bean boots. Or we can
start having real conversations about
the hard things. I’ve done both, and
I’ll probably continue to do both.
I’ve just realized that I care a lot
more about the hard stuff, because
it’s usually the most important and
eventually can lead to some of the
best stuff. I’ve had more tear-filled
conversations,
stomach-churning
anxiety and tense walks than some
people on this campus, but I’m fine
with that.
If I could go back in time, I’d
have a lot to tell myself. To my
freshman self, relax. It’s OK to
care. To my sophomore self, it’s OK
to have hard times. You can’t fix
everyone else’s problems, but you
can take care of yourself, in fact
you should. Junior me, take a deep
breath. You’re human. And now, I
hope those of you who have some
time left at this school will take
the time to grow as an individual.
Learn what you like, what you
value, what you want, what you
have, and enjoy it. Be kind to
yourself and trust that you’re not
the only one who has felt what
you feel. Voice your opinions and
concerns, your insecurities, your
fears, your values, and learn.
Learn a lot. Be respectful and
appreciative. College has been
a humbling experience in many
ways, hardly easy, never boring,
always
weird
—
and
getting
weirder. I’ve made a family and a
new home within my home of Ann
Arbor. I’ve made best friends, a
lot of mistakes and memories that
will last me forever.
Ann Arbor will always be my
home. I will probably always honk
at drunk students on Saturday
mornings, get frustrated when
they walk in front of my car for five
minutes without looking up from
their cellphones and shake my head
when I see sorority girls chanting
out of windows. But I get it now. I’ve
found a new appreciation for my
home and feel so lucky to have been
able to spend four years with some
of the most amazing professors,
GSIs, peers and administrators
in the country. In April, I’ll be
graduating college. I’m terrified,
but at least I can admit it.
— Rebecca Gott is an LSA senior.
Discovering what matters
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ELLIOTT
RAINS
REBECCA GOTT | OP-ED
Be awkward
S
hining vividly against the
darkening night sky and
bathed
in
the
colors
of
the
Belgian
flag,
the
Eiffel
Tower stood tall
Tuesday night as
a remarkable symbol of European
brotherhood — resiliency in the face
of terror and shared democratic
values. Yet, the support for Belgium
after this week’s horrific terrorist
attacks in the very heart of Western
Europe did not stop there. Scrolling
through various social media feeds
and websites, I was overwhelmed
by the statements and beautiful
drawings of “Je Suis Bruxelles” by
people of all nationalities, echoing
the cries of “Je Suis Charlie” that
became viral after the attacks in
Paris this past November.
If one thing is for sure, our world
certainly knows how to come
together in times of tragedy, and
I will proudly retweet any image
supporting the survivors of the
bombings in Brussels or change
my Facebook profile picture to
match the colors of the French
flag. However, when six gunmen,
members
of
Al-Qaeda’s
North
African branch, opened fire at
an Ivory Coast beach resort on
March 14 and left 16 dead bloodied
bodies on the beach, where were
our proclamations of “Je Suis Côte
d’Ivoire?”
Though Brussels certainly saw
the most violent acts of terrorism
since the attacks in Paris, there
have still been dozens of terrorist
attacks, most widely unreported,
since Nov. 13. In just the past month,
bombings in Ankara and Istanbul
have killed more than 40 people and
left another 162 injured. Many of the
injured were foreign tourists and
civilians — the same type of victims
in the various terrorist attacks on
African countries in the past year.
In relation to countries such as
the Ivory Coast and Turkey, media
coverage can portray the United
States as existing in an entirely
different world. Yet, when Paris, the
very bastion of liberty and equality,
was attacked, it terrified us so much
because it showed how easily such a
tragedy could have happened here in
our own country. We are reminded
of Boston on April 15, 2013; we are
reminded of New York on Sept. 11,
2001. We see pieces of ourselves
in the frightened faces of Belgians
fleeing through darkened subway
tunnels and hear our own voices
in the cries of a little French child
crying outside the bombed soccer
stadium. The world is a rapidly
changing place, full of horrible
people and events that we can only
hope will never be repeated again,
and we are scared. Thus, whenever
one of our fellow democratic nations
is attacked by forces that seem so
different from us, we speak out to
everyone that will listen, often in
the form of social media, to assure
both ourselves and our country that
freedom, democracy and love will
ultimately overcome all.
However, this method of thinking
also contributes to the dangerous
divide that still exists between
wealthy Western countries and the
rest of the world, or, in the example
of what happened in the Ivory
Coast, Muslim and non-Muslim
countries. We must work to expand
the media coverage of the tragedies
that occur across all continents,
as they are committed by the
same kinds of terrorist groups
that the United States is working
toward exterminating. Rather than
presenting all acts of terrorism,
all horrible tragedies, on equal
footing, the media sensationalizes
any terrorist attack committed
against a Western nation by a
Muslim group because it fits into
the narrative it wants to use to gain
viewers and garner an extreme
emotional response.
The
same
week
Paris
was
attacked, stories about Boko Haram
militants marching into the village
of
Baga,
Nigeria,
slaughtering
more than 2,000 civilians and
seizing control of the nation-
state
resurfaced
because
they
hadn’t gotten the same amount of
attention previously. Here in the
United States, Africa is portrayed as
a land where these types of killings
are common, yet that aspect alone
should amass even more scrutiny
from the Western world. In terms
of mass murder, how can one life
be deemed more important than
another?
In order to strengthen our
understanding of groups such as
Al-Qaeda, Boko Haram and ISIS,
we must realize that the Western-
dominated media only present a
miniscule number of the atrocities
they commit. Yet, the human heart
has no limit on the amount of love
it can express. We don’t have to
choose which tragedies to mourn,
we can show solidarity with people
of all countries. Because when there
is a terrorist group slaughtering
innocent
civilians,
choosing
to
uphold
our
stereotypical
distinctions
between
Western
countries and the rest of the world is
harmful to both our duties as human
beings and our national security.
We must not only show support
for countries far away, but to our
fellow citizens inside U.S. borders as
well. The manner in which Western
media
covers
terrorism
only
augments ignorance. Today, only 27
percent of Americans have a positive
view of Muslim Americans, which
is absolutely terrifying — seeing as
Muslim Americans have absolutely
nothing to do with the attacks
committed by radical groups such as
ISIS. Ignorance such as this leads to
hatred and violence, which, judging
by the state of the world right now,
we don’t need any more of.
I wholeheartedly support “Je Suis
Bruxelles” and “Je Suis Charlie,”
but I also call for the inclusion of
support for terrorism-torn countries
that are cut off from the rest of the
world due to lack of resources and
corrupt governments. By educating
ourselves on the horrible acts being
committed
beyond
our
bubble
of Western capitalism, we can
better aid and raise awareness for
nations that are under risk of being
completely taken over by dangerous
radical groups.
— Kaela Theut can be reached
at ktheut@umich.edu
KAELA
THEUT
Going beyond “Je suis Bruxelles”
“In terms of mass
murder, how can
one life be deemed
more important than
another?”
“I had a really fun
time until I had
no idea who I had
become or what I
wanted.”