T

oday, 
in 
many 
households 

throughout the Bay Area, football 
jerseys are being 

set aflame. This is not 
necessarily 
an 
earth-

shattering 
revelation 

for avid sports fans, as 
a 
good-ol’-fashioned 

jersey 
burning 
has 

become an off-season 
staple in recent years, 
a tradition akin to a 
bonfire in the fall. But 
this is a unique case. 
The 
passion 
of 
this 

situation 
runs 
even 

deeper than the vitriol that the city of 
Cleveland displayed in 2010 when Lebron 
James decided to take his talents to South 
Beach. This is not a city reacting to the 
scorn of a jilted lover; rather, this is an act 
that has transcended even the ironclad 
bonds of team loyalty and penetrated the 
core of our collective patriotism, leading 
many to question what it means to be an 
American.

On Aug. 26, San Francisco 49ers’ 

quarterback 
Colin 

Kaepernick 
refused 
to 

stand during the national 
anthem 
performed 
at 

a 
preseason 
football 

game against the Green 
Bay 
Packers. 
Instead, 

Kaepernick 
elected 
to 

sit as a peaceful protest 
to what he views as the 
unfair treatment of African 
Americans in this country. 
“I am not going to stand up 
to show pride in a flag for 
a country that oppresses 
Black people and people of 
color,” Kaepernick claimed 
after the game.

This statement immediately generated 

immense backlash and led to many people 
criticizing Kaepernick as un-American and 
ignorant. They insisted that the refusal 
to stand was an insult to members of the 
armed forces. While the quarterback did 
receive support from many of his fellow 
NFL players, some of whom have since 
adopted similar pregame gestures, he also 
took into consideration the opinions of his 
critics.

After 
speaking 
with 
former 
Staff 

Sgt. Green Beret and current NFL long 
snapper Nate Boyer, Kaepernick has since 
decided to kneel during the anthem as 
a show of respect to military tradition. 
Despite this compromise, the criticism has 
only intensified, as many groups like the 
Santa Clara Police Officers’ Association 
have expressed their displeasure with 
Kaepernick’s actions.

Both sides of this debate have had 

powerful reactions. There is no doubt that 
the men and women of our armed forces 
deserve more thanks and respect than we 
as a nation could ever give them, and I am 
aware of the fact that issues pertaining 
to patriotism and national pride are very 
emotional ones. At the same time, it’s hard 
not to see the irony in a peaceful protest 
being deemed as “un-American” or that 
the person participating in it should be 
considered ignorant for doing so.

The truth is that peaceful protests 

are every bit as American as apple pie. 
For generations they have served as a 
fundamental tool in the American citizen’s 

arsenal 
of 
democracy, 
bringing 
about 

change and sparking important national 
discussions on topics such as race, gender 
and the right to unionize.

In fact, the history of the state of 

Michigan is deeply intertwined with 
that of the peaceful protest. One of the 
first sit-down strikes in the history 
of America occurred in 1936, in Flint, 
when autoworkers peacefully protested 
against General Motors and eventually 
gained recognition of the United Auto 
Workers as bargainers for GM’s employees. 
Furthermore, here at the University of 
Michigan, the first teach-in in history was 
held in 1965 to protest the war in Vietnam. 
These events are two of the most important 
actions in the history of our state, and still 
only represent a fraction of our nation’s 
many great peaceful protests.

Despite the prominence of these protests 

throughout history, there has been a strange 
tendency by the media to treat this type of 
action as some unheard-of occurrence, 
when in reality this situation is not even 
entirely new to the sports world. From a 
historical perspective, Kaepernick has 

some very distinguished 
company. In his 1972 
autobiography “I Never 
Had It Made,” Jackie 
Robinson — one of the 
most iconic heroes in 
the history of American 
sports (and a former 
member of the armed 
forces himself ) — stated 
plainly, “I cannot stand 
and sing the anthem. I 
cannot salute the flag; 
I know that I am a black 
man in a white world.”

These 
words 
came 

from 
a 
man 
who 

experienced the evils of racism firsthand on 
his way to breaking baseball’s color barrier. 
While great strides have certainly been 
made since Robinson’s time, turning the 
news on just about any given day provides 
a sobering reminder that his statement still 
rings true today. There may be a Black man 
in the White House, but this is still a white 
world. With this in mind, it is important 
that we have a true, open discussion about 
the realities of racism in this country, and 
Kaepernick has helped to reenergize this 
conversation through the nonstop media 
coverage that has surrounded his protest.

While his actions have rubbed many 

people the wrong way, part of the beauty 
of being American citizens is that we have 
freedom of speech, and as a result we are 
often forced to deal with situations that 
make us uncomfortable. As individuals, we 
rarely grow in situations in which we are 
comfortable, and I believe that this goes the 
same for our society as a whole. In my eyes, 
the tensions and disagreements that our 
society is currently facing are signs that we 
are on the precipice of progress.

While Kaepernick’s critics may not agree 

with his actions, I certainly hope that they 
will respect his right to speak his mind and 
will make an earnest attempt to understand 
the position that he is coming from. 
Kaepernick is continuing a long tradition 
of peacefully pushing for much-needed 
changes in society, and there are few things 
more American than that. 

—Jeff Brooks can be reached 

at brooksjs@umich.edu. I 

live in an apartment in 
a 
subdivided 
house 
in 

Kerrytown — which is to say 

that 
despite 

the 
slanted 

floor and lead 
paint 
(I 
had 

to 
promise 

my 
mom 
I 

wouldn’t chew 
on the window 
sills), 
the 

amenities are 
surprisingly 
good.

The 
house 

must’ve 
been 

beautiful when it was first built in 
the late 1800s, and certain features 
remain, namely a spacious living 
room and a big kitchen. When 
my roommates and I first moved 
in a year ago, I decided I’d take 
advantage of the latter.

Part of this is a matter of personal 

preference. Eating in, on average, 
is less expensive than dining 
out. There’s the added benefit of 
dictating your own serving size and 
adjusting recipes to your own tastes. 
I also just happen to enjoy cooking. 
It’s fun and relaxing for me.

Enter: meatloaf.
I can’t tell you why, but making 

a meatloaf puts a smile on my 
face. There’s an unparalleled 
satisfaction 
that 
comes 

from 
mixing 
together 
eggs, 

breadcrumbs, 
ground 
meat 

(turkey, beef, pork … you name 
it), spices, herbs and sauces. It’s 
ingredient teamwork, and the 
result is hearty, juicy and filling.

Our apartment dynamic is 

also 
meatloaf-esque. 
Matt, 

Casey and I are indiscriminate 
ingredients that come together 
to make something great. The 
likelihood of a nursing student 
from Oakland, Calif., a pre-med 
kinesiology student from Grand 
Rapids, Mich., and a public 
policy student from Los Angeles 
who met during Welcome Week 
their freshman year becoming 
close friends and living together 
is just as crazy as someone, 
eons ago, realizing meat could 
somehow be more delicious in loaf 
form. But it just works.

Meaty 
analogies 
about 

friendship aside (there is more 
to me than a love of meatloaf ), 
cooking 
in 
our 
Kerrytown 

kitchen is important to me 
because it brings us together at 
the end of the day.

Our experiences are vastly 

different. 
Matt 
conducts 

clinicals in the hospital, Casey 
works in a lab on North Campus, 
and when I’m not doing policy 
reading, 
I’m 
writing 
these 

sentimental columns. But the 
few times a week when we are 
able to gather, cook a meal 
together, sit down at our kitchen 
table and talk about anything — 
from classes to politics to funny 
Facebook videos to existential 
crises — those times are among 
my most cherished.

Those are opportunities for 

us to decompress, to bond and to 
grow. The significance of home-
cooked meals in our lives is no 
anomaly. Eating dinner with 
family is associated with better 
dietary patterns, job and work 
productivity and psychological 
well-being.

My 
takeaway? 
Long 
live 

meatloaf.

—Michael Sugerman can be 

reached at mrsugs@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 — Friday, September 16, 2016

CONTRIBUTE TO THE CONVERSATION

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should be fewer than 300 words while op-eds should be 550 to 850 

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I found happiness in meatloaf 

Over the past year or so, and 

especially 
recently 
with 
the 

University of Chicago dean of 
students’ letter, trigger warnings 
and safe spaces have become a 
widely debated topic on campuses 
across the country. Like every 
issue these days, it too has become 
politicized 
along 
extremely 

polarized party lines. I’m here to 
argue that truth exists on both 
sides, and in these truths we can 
find a clear justification for trigger 
warnings and safe spaces that are 
so hotly contested.

Social 
conservatives 
argue 

that 
justifications 
for 
trigger 

warnings and safe spaces reflect 
a general coddling of college 
students, while liberals argue 
we should respect the traumatic 
experiences of people in general 
— 
especially 
those 
exhibiting 

symptoms of PTSD or who fall 
into marginalized social groups.

Though I don’t agree that 

college students are being coddled 
with safe spaces and trigger 
warnings, there’s something to 
be said for the argument that 
our generation is more openly 
emotional than generations past. 
Millennials are often described as 
sensitive, empathetic and open to 
change — some argue too much so.

Maybe this is true because of 

what Princeton professor and New 
York Times opinion writer Christy 
Wampole 
calls 
“the 
emotive 

spectacle” in her new book of 
essays, 
“The 
Other 
Serious: 

Essays for the New American 
Generation.” 
Wampole 
writes, 

“There seems to be an emphasis 
on showing people in the process 
of feeling strong emotions.”

Wampole suggests that maybe 

this emphasis “works in lieu of 
audience members experiencing 
real emotions themselves.” I’ll be 
the first person to tell you that 
my generation’s habit of assigning 
emotionally difficult interactions 
to the realms of texting (versus 
speaking face-to-face) has a dulling 
effect on emotions. But I’d like to 
offer a slightly different argument: 
With the media millennials have 
been faced with most of their 
lives — a large portion of which 
is likely to have been emotionally 
focused — it’s likely this generation 
is at least more aware of a wider 
sample of emotional experiences 
across demographic groups than 
generations past.

Wampole mentions, “All of this 

is staged to toy with our mirror 
neurons. 
Somebody 
wants 
to 

use empathy against us.” Here 
Wampole suggests that mass media 
outlets know we’ll feel affected by 
these accounts and images of the 
affected person. They’re using 
people’s emotional experiences 
to draw the consumer in, to get as 
many clicks as possible.

Perhaps 
millennials, 
to 
a 

greater extent than any preceding 
generation, 
have 
been 
made 

the commodities of mass media 
outlets owned by big corporations 
and 
media 
conglomerates. 

But maybe there’s something 
redeemable in this kidnapping of 
our mirror neurons. Maybe the 
influx of emotional images has 
made us, at least in part, more 
empathetic in very real, very 
deep ways that can allow us to 
better understand one another 
across demographic groups.

I say this all only to highlight 

that, yes, our generation is more 
openly or outwardly emotional 
than 
prior 
generations. 
The 

origins of this could be in mass 
media’s 
emotive 
spectacle, 
it 

could be in Facebook or it could 
be a revolt against less emotional 
previous generations that are seen 
as oppressive (of such emotions, 
of 
marginalized 
populations). 

An effect could be that we’re too 
sensitive of each other’s emotions 
at times. But I argue these 
occasions are the exceptions and 
not the rules.

So when it comes to trigger 

warnings, one may ask: What is 
it people are asking to be warned 
about, exactly? What is it people 
are asking to be kept safe from? 
Groups that come to mind, which 
can intersect with one another, 
are 
the 
LGBTQ 
community, 

people of color, Muslims who walk 
to class in the morning only to find 
the words “stop Islam” written 
on the Diag. These are all groups 
that face different but interwoven 
systems of oppression that often 
manifest themselves in distinct 
events that can be traumatic for 
some. To claim trigger warnings 
and safe spaces are unwarranted 
delegitimizes these experiences 
for marginalized groups. To 
borrow from a recent piece 
by 
Daily 
columnist 
Clarissa 

Donnelly-DeRoven, if someone 
says they’re hurt, you don’t get 

to tell them they’re not.

It is also crucial to consider 

who, exactly, is speaking out 
against 
trigger 
warnings 
and 

safe spaces. At the University 
of 
Michigan’s 
2016 
Spring 

Commencement 
ceremony, 

Michael Bloomberg spoke out 
against 
safe 
spaces, 
trigger 

warnings and code words, saying, 
“Microaggressions 
are 
exactly 

that: micro.” It’s worth noting 
that Bloomberg is a white male 
who grew up in a middle-class 
Boston suburb which was more 
than 75 percent white. During 
Bloomberg’s time as mayor of New 
York City, he ran an administration 
that was, according to Federal 
District Judge Shira Scheindlin, 
“deliberately indifferent” toward 
discriminatory 
stop-and-frisk 

policing. Today, Bloomberg is 
worth more than $48 billion. 
I’d say it’s clear that Bloomberg 
is hardly one to talk about how 
universities 
might 
approach 

creating a welcoming and inclusive 
campus for marginalized groups.

Another recent example whom 

I mentioned previously is the 
University of Chicago’s dean of 
students, 
John 
“Jay” 
Ellison. 

Ellison, also a white male, is the 
son of an epidemiologist and 
spent most of his childhood in 
Georgia (and some of it in a small 
community in Minnesota that 
is more than 80 percent white). 
Here he eventually served as 
a police officer for four years 
before finishing his education 
at 
Southeastern 
University, 

which 
the 
Harvard 
Crimson 

describes as a “Bible college in 
rural Florida.” While I’d like 
to avoid stereotyping, Ellison’s 
background makes me doubt the 
validity of his criticisms of safe 
spaces and trigger warnings.

Yes, 
millennials 
are 
too 

sensitive, but we are a generation 
that is considerate of others. 
Because of globalization, we 
are more connected than ever. 
Many of these sensitivities aim 
to respect experiences of our 
friends 
across 
demographic 

groups 
who’ve 
experienced 

hardship 
at 
the 
hands 
of 

systematic oppression built over 
centuries. And that is something 
honorable.

Regan Detwiler is a co-editorial 

page editor of The Michigan Daily.

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, JasonRowland, 

Kevin Sweitzer, Rebecca Tarnopol, 

Ashley Tjhung, Stephanie Trierweiler

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

“The truth 

is that 

peaceful 

protests are 
every bit as 
American as 
apple pie.”

MICHAEL

SUGERMAN

REGAN DETWILER | OP-ED
Justifying our compassionate generation

The land of the free 

IN CHAN LEE 
email in chan at tokg@umich.edu

JEFF 
BROOKS

MICHAEL
SUGERMAN

