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September 15, 2016 - Image 4

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The Michigan Daily

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M

y first visit to Ann Arbor
was on April 4, 2015.
Having recently been

accepted to the
University
of

Michigan,
my

family decided
to drive around
for a bit before checking into
our hotel room to familiarize
ourselves with the campus. As we
drove down State Street, we noted
how crowded the campus looked.
As we turned down South U, we
marveled at how beautiful, yet
dirty, the Law Quad was. It wasn’t
until we turned down Tappan
Avenue that it hit us. “What’s that
smell?” my grandma asked.

Unbeknownst to us, our blue

minivan was weaving its way
through the chaos of the 44th
annual Hash Bash.

I knew right away that Ann

Arbor,
and
consequently
the

University
of
Michigan,
was

different.
Choosing
to
attend

Michigan would mean I’d finally
be immersed in a progressive
and inviting environment full of
intellectually stimulating people
and ideas. What I didn’t realize
was
that
these
experiences

wouldn’t all be as accessible and
open as Hash Bash — most times,
these
eye-opening
experiences

would have to be sought.

Following the conclusion of

freshman convocation, I walked
over to the University’s welcome
picnic in front of Angell Hall.
As my cursory scan of the lawn
revealed what I’d already known
— I recognized no familiar faces
— a terrible thought crossed my
mind: I should’ve gone to Penn
State. If I did, I could’ve roomed
with high school friends and,
at the very least, I wouldn’t be
feeling so alone. But seeing as
I’d chose Michigan, I was stuck
in Ann Arbor for at least the
next year.

At this point, it would’ve been

easy for me to retire to my room,

call
some
hometown
friends

and count down the days until
Thanksgiving Break. But doing
so would ensure that I’d miss out
on the amazing opportunities
available
at
this
school.
As

unpleasant as it was not knowing
anyone, robbing myself of the
chance to grow by not spending
time outside of my comfort zone
would’ve been equally egregious.
So, apprehensively, I went out to
meet people.

The rest of Welcome Week

was spent exploring campus with
new acquaintances, bonding over
the mix of risible University-
sponsored
events
(such
as
a

“Party for Your Mind” in the
Shapiro Library) and not-quite-
sanctioned
festivities
around

campus. Welcome Week turned
into classes, and gradually, this
feeling of isolation began to
fade away. After a few weeks,
I’d learned the campus layout
and I was getting into the swing
of my courses. This was finally
the college of my high school
imagination, I naively thought to
myself. Yet again, I was wrong.

Soon
after
classes
started,

various
student
organizations

began
accepting
applications

for new membership. While the
University brags about the number
of clubs it has on campus, it never
says anything about how selective
many of them are. Wanting to
branch out and try new things, I
applied to many clubs. However,
it seemed every day I was opening
my email to find ones that started
with “Thank you for your interest
in … ” and not “Congratulations.”

This
constant
stream
of

rejections caused me to doubt
whether or not I had what it
took to thrive at this University.
Additionally,
I
began
feeling

like I’d never find a close group
of friends, only a loose group of
acquaintances
who
happened

to live near me. With everyone
hyping up college to be the

best time of your life — coupled
with looking at Snapchats and
Instagram posts of high school
friends who all seemed to be
having an easier transition than I
was — I thought I was the only one
feeling these emotions.

What I didn’t realize was that

these were all normal feelings
to have. However, I only came to
this realization after continuing
to push myself to socialize and
explore my interests, even in the
face of failure. One instance in
particular stands out. I was in West
Quadrangle’s game room chatting
with some new acquaintances
when one by one, people left to
retire for the night. By the end of
the evening, it was just me and
one of my now-closest friends (but
at the time, just a girl from my
dorm). Though we’d just met, she
went on about how she missed her
friends and family back home in
North Carolina. For the first time
since arriving on campus, I heard
someone else acknowledge how
hard the transition was. Every
other freshman, it seemed, was so
eager to forget the past 18 years of
their life. It was refreshing to hear
at least one other person who felt
the same as I did.

Looking back, I wish I could tell

my freshman year self to just keep
on trying, and that, eventually,
time would sort things out. I’d also
tell myself that if I keep on joining
clubs that seem interesting, I’d
eventually finally find some that
I love; and if I keep on trying to
meet new people and strengthen
the relationships I currently have,
I’d finally get a solid group of
friends. Most importantly, I’d tell
myself to focus on enjoying my
time at the University and in Ann
Arbor. But since I can’t go back to
tell myself these lessons, the best I
can do is tell them to you.

—Jason Rowland can be

reached at jerow@umich.edu.

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, September 15, 2016



—Rayouf Alhumedhi and Jennifer 8. Lee, in a proposal to the Unicode Consortium sug-

gesting the inclusion of a hijab-wearing emoji character



NOTABLE QUOTABLE

Roughly 550 million Muslim women on

this earth pride themselves on wearing

the hijab. With this enormous number of

people, not a single space on the keyboard

is reserved for them.

CONTRIBUTE TO THE CONVERSATION

Readers are encouraged to submit letters to the editor and

op-eds. Letters should be fewer than 300 words while op-eds
should be 550 to 850 words. Send the writer’s full name and

University affiliation to tothedaily@michigandaily.com.

FROM THE DAILY

It gets better

O

n Aug. 4, Ann Arbor became the first city in Michigan
to raise the minimum age to purchase tobacco from 18
to 21. This change was an effort by the Ann Arbor City

Council to lower the rate of tobacco-related illnesses, combat
rising smoking rates among adults and prevent access to tobacco
among 15- to 17-year-olds. The ordinance states individuals
under 21 won’t be punished for smoking tobacco products, but
those who sell or give tobacco products or electronic smoking
devices to underage individuals will face penalties. While the
dangers of smoking are important to combat, this ordinance,
because it contravenes a state law and didn’t fully consider
public opinion, is flawed.

Raising
the
minimum
age
for

purchasing tobacco products is beneficial
from a public health perspective, but
City Council should not have passed an
ordinance that obviously contradicts the
Tobacco Product Tax Act of 1993, a state
law pertaining to the sale of tobacco
products, which states 18-year-olds can
legally purchase tobacco. What’s more,
the council passed the ordinance without
ever putting it on the ballot, and though
voter turnout rates for city elections are
traditionally low, failing to put this issue
to the ballot likely resulted in reduced
input from Ann Arbor residents.

The city’s attempt to curb underage

smoking
does
demonstrate
a
well-

intentioned effort to improve public
health,
with
some
council
members

claiming the public health benefits of
passing the ordinance outweigh the costs
of infringing on individual liberties. Public
health officials, who strongly supported
the ordinance, charged that tobacco is
the leading cause of preventable death in
the United States, making increasing the
minimum age to 21 necessary on moral
and
financial
grounds.
Furthermore,

tobacco is a social drug — young teens
obtain access to these substances from
older teens who they associate with. A
lower minimum age on the purchase of
tobacco creates a buffer between 15- to
17-year-olds and older teens who can
legally purchase tobacco products.

However,
intentions
aside,
under

the Tobacco Product Tax Act, local
governments “shall not impose any new

requirement or prohibition pertaining to
the sale or licensure of tobacco products
for distribution purposes.” The city
clearly acted outside its jurisdiction by
passing this ordinance, demonstrating an
overstep of municipal power.

In addition, the council’s deliberate

refusal to listen the voice of Ann Arbor’s
community warrants criticism. Despite
holding an open hearing on the issue —
during which many Ann Arbor residents
voiced their concerns with the issue —
the city refused to include the ordinance
on a public ballot. The hearing was also
held in the summer, which may have
been why most college students — the age
group most affected by the law — were
not present to speak on the bill. Though
voter turnout in local elections tends
to be very low, it serves as no excuse to
bypass the democratic process. In passing
this ordinance during the summer and
without putting it on the ballot, the
city government reneged on its duty as
representatives of the public will.

Though it’s beneficial from a public

health standpoint to raise the age one can
purchase tobacco, City Council should not
have passed an ordinance that contradicts
state law, and especially should not have
done so without putting the issue to a vote.
That being said, passing the ordinance
has started an important conversation
about the issue. If the ordinance produces
the desired outcomes, it will signal to the
state government that change is needed.

Over the summer, the Michigan

House
of
Representatives

approved a bill that would allow
Michigan high school students to
take computer science courses in
lieu of foreign language courses.
Michigan is not the first state
to
consider
such
legislation:

Students in Florida and Texas can
already elect to take a computer
science course instead of a foreign
language, and a handful of other
states have considered adopting
similar legislation.

Computer
science
education

is one of the most burning topics
in academia today as the global
economy
becomes
more
and

more dependent on computer-
literate workers. Some of the
nation’s largest school districts
already have plans in place to
implement
computer
science

programs into their curricula in
an effort to equip their students
with highly valuable computer
skills. However, computer science
curricula should not supplant
traditional
foreign
language

curricula; in fact, this interchange
would ultimately come to the
detriment
to
the
students’

learning experience, as computer
science
and
foreign
language

teach
students
two
different,

albeit important, skill sets.

The difference stems from the

fact that computer languages are
not natural languages. Unlike
natural languages, no one innately
picks up a computer language, nor
does anyone speak it or use it to
communicate with others. This
is because languages like Java
and CSS were not designed for
this purpose; they were designed
so humans can teach computers
to think, instruct computers on
what to do. Therefore, if someone
learns to code, they learn a
technical skill.

Due to its nature as a technical

skill, rather than a communicative
skill, it’s much easier to achieve
fluency in a computer language
than it is to achieve fluency
in a natural language. Unlike
computer languages, which are

designed to be simple and precise,
natural
languages
are
chock

full of ambiguity and nuance.
Learners of a natural language
must become familiar with things
like
synonyms,
idioms,
verb

conjugations, tone and context
clues — all of which are difficult to
learn in a first language, let alone
a second. Becoming competent
in a foreign language therefore
requires an immense amount of
time, effort and critical thinking
skills;
fluency
in
a
natural

language can take years.

Part of the reason fluency in

natural languages is so hard to
achieve is that language requires
immersion — constantly engaging
in conversation. Such a task is
incredibly difficult for students
to do on their own. (On the other
hand, it’s not uncommon to hear
about people teaching themselves
to code.) Of course, there are
resources
available
to
learn

foreign languages on your own,
such as Duolingo or Rosetta Stone.
However, these courses are either
costly (Rosetta Stone costs $199
for a 2-year subscription) or do not
facilitate the type of interaction
necessary to truly get a firm
grasp on the language. Classroom
environments, especially those
where the foreign language is
the only language spoken during
class, might be the only place a
student can experience the type
of interaction needed to acquire a
second language.

Whereas learning a computer

language requires a student to
learn
the
language’s
syntax,

foreign
language
courses

encompass much more than some
vocabulary words and a set of
grammatical
rules.
Any
good

language course will weave in
aspects of life in the countries
where the language is spoken,
giving
students
insight
into

cultures other than their own.
Some of my best memories of the
Hebrew courses I have taken were
days where we cooked Israeli
foods, watched Israeli films or
discussed controversial topics that

were pertinent to the country’s
social and political climate. Such
subject matter allows students to
gain awareness of what matters to
people in other parts of the world,
breeding empathy and a better
understanding of how to approach
conversation with others.

Society
often
brushes

aside interpersonal skills like
communication
and
empathy,

marking them as innate and
therefore easy to acquire. But
anyone who has taken a foreign
language
course
knows
how

hard it is to become proficient
in a second language, and these
interpersonal
skills
make
a

working knowledge of a language
other than your own just as, or
even more, advantageous in the
global economy. After all, every
job requires human interaction,
and as society becomes more
globalized, understanding not
only the language but also the
sensitivities of other cultures
becomes much more important
in industry.

To condemn the role that

computer science plays in our
world today would be ignorant,
as it has applications in nearly
every field, if not all fields. Should
students be encouraged to take
a programming course at some
point in their academic career?
Of course. Should high schools, or
even the University of Michigan,
require a programming course as a
graduation prerequisite? Perhaps.

But to offer or even encourage

computer science courses as an
alternative to foreign language
courses would ultimately do a
disservice to students. Technical
skills can only get a student so far
in their academic and professional
careers. It is the interpersonal
and critical thinking skills that
are honed through courses like
foreign language courses that will
truly allow students to succeed in
their professional life.

Rebecca Tarnopol is a

Senior Opinion Editor.

Carolyn Ayaub, Claire Bryan, Roland Davidson,

Regan Detwiler, Caitlin Heenan,

Jeremy Kaplan, Ben Keller, Minsoo Kim,

Payton Luokkala, Kit Maher, Madeline Nowicki,

Anna Polumbo-Levy, Jason Rowland,

Kevin Sweitzer, Rebecca Tarnopol,

Ashley Tjhung, Stephanie Trierweiler

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

JASON

ROWLAND

REBECCA TARNOPOL | OP-ED

A different kind of language barrier

Tobacco ordinance good in theory

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