Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Monday, October 3, 2016

Open letter to the U of M community

THE BLACK LEADERSHIP COUNCIL | OP-ED

T

o the 
University 
of 

Michigan Community:

In light of recent 

events, both on and off campus, 
we are deeply disturbed by 
the hateful and blatant racism 
put forth by people who label 
themselves the alt-right. It 
troubles us that the individuals 
of the Black community at 
the University of Michigan 
targeted 
by 
these 
posters 

and flyers are not only being 
stereotyped by incorrect data, 
but are also being made to feel 
unvalued and unwelcomed on 
the University campus.

We 
acknowledge 
the 

statements 
and 
appreciate 

the actions made by both the 
University and student activists 
on campus. We understand the 
University has not yet found 
the individual or individuals 
responsible for this cowardly 
act. However, we wish to 
bring attention to the fact 
that there is an alt-right blog 
that has used the University’s 
name in its title. Not only does 
this blog use phrases such as 
“harass,” “viscously attack” 
and “humiliate and destroy,” 
it also states that there is a 
potential Alt-Right Club at the 
University.

While freedom of speech 

is 
important, 
all 
student 

organizations 
are 
required 

to adhere to the University’s 
Nondiscrimination 
Policy, 

which 
includes 
all 
online 

media, like blogs. We call 
upon the University to fulfill 
its obligations stated in the 
“Discrimination and Harassment 
Policy” and the University’s 
“Procedural 
Guidelines 
for 

Handling Discrimination and 
Harassment Complaints.” We 
request the University enforce 
its 
commitment 
to 
prevent 

and 
eliminate 
impermissible 

discrimination and harassment 
of students by conducting a 
formal 
investigation 
of 
the 

incident in accordance with 
the 
Procedural 
Guidelines; 

eliminating both the potential 
Alt-Right University of Michigan 
Club and corresponding online 
blog; monitoring posting walls, 
boards and other University 
advertising spaces daily; and 
formally condemning the alt-
right as a hate group. While 
taking these actions would 
help in the short term, it is 
imperative to long-term and 
sustainable success that all 
members of the University 
community, 
whether 
they 

are students or staff, act in 
a way that is conducive to 
realizing the vision for “a 
campus environment where 
all students, faculty, and staff 
feel welcomed and valued. ...” 
as outlined in the Diversity, 
Equity and Inclusion plan.

In order for this vision to be 

realized, our responses must 
transcend written statements 
and lead to concrete action. 

The 
issues 
and 
problems 

surrounding campus climate 
are too great for a single 
group to take on alone. As 
University 
President 
Mark 

Schlissel stated during the 
Black Student Union meeting 
on Sept. 29, it is necessary 
that we work together.

While we desire to solve the 

issues 
surrounding 
campus 

climate, we recognize that a 
solution to such a large problem 
will take time. We need time 
to heal. We need time to 
listen to and receive input 
from all members of the Black 
community to understand what 
they need, not just what we 
think they need. Above all, we 
need time to not only discuss 
how we can work together to 
bring about change, but to also 
discuss what unity in the Black 
community looks like outside 
of tragedy and pain.

Though 
we 
are 
leaders 

of 
various 
Black 
student 

organizations, we do not speak 
for the entire Black community; 
we speak so the members of the 
Black community know that 
their individual voices matter, 
that their individual lives matter.

The 
Black 
Leadership 

Council at the University of 
Michigan.

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.

SHOHAM GEVA

Editor in Chief

CLAIRE BRYAN 

and REGAN DETWILER 

Editorial Page Editors

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.

Carolyn Ayaub
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

Kevin Sweitzer

Rebecca Tarnopol

Ashley Tjhung

Stephanie Trierweiler

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

I

n perhaps one of the most 
memorable lines from the 
comical 
first 
presidential 

debate, candidate Hillary Clinton 
captured all of the qualms I have 
with Donald Trump: “Well, Donald, 
I know you live in your own reality, 
but that is not the facts.”

If you didn’t watch the debate 

because 
of 
time 
constraints, 

I suggest finding an abridged 
version on YouTube and ramping 
up the speed to 1.5x (it actually 
helps Hillary’s incessant pausing). 
A word of advice: Try not to get 
frustrated by Trump’s repeated 
mansplaining. A PBS article cites 
51 interruptions by Donald Trump, 
as opposed to 17 interruptions by 
Hillary Clinton.

Watching the debate, I tried to 

not get distracted by the constant 
interruptions, the incessant raising 
of voices and the unprofessional 
digs. As a junior in the Ford School, 
I focused my attention to all 
mentions of policy. But something 
about the way Donald Trump 
speaks occupied my brainpower. 
Trump’s speech is so unverifiable 
that he has complete liberty to say 
whatever he wants.

And that kind of explains his 

rhetoric, right? By using words 
such as “perhaps,” “probably,” 
“private,” 
“maybe,” 
etc., 
etc., 

Trump is able to say practically 
whatever fits the moment without 
anyone proving him wrong.

Take, for example, the moment 

when Clinton pointed out the 
architect in the audience who was 
stiffed by Trump after designing a 
clubhouse. Trump’s only response 
was, “Maybe he didn’t do a good 
job and I was unsatisfied with his 
work.” See that? It’s not that Donald 
Trump admits he was unsatisfied 
and didn’t pay the man, it’s that 
there’s a possibility he maybe wasn’t 
satisfied. In other words, he shifts 
the accountability from himself to 
no one. And that’s a dangerous trait 
for a presidential nominee.

Another example of Trump-

talk occurs when he’s asked about 
birtherism and healing the racial 

divide. “I think I’ve developed very, 
very good relationships over the 
last little while with the African-
American community,” he said. “I 
think you can see that.” The content 
of this quote perfectly captures 
Donald Trump’s dismal engagement 
with African-American voters and 
communities “over the last little 
while.” But let’s look at his style of 
delivery of these so-called facts: “I 
think I’ve developed,” “I think you 
can see that.” Once again, we hear 
Trump abstractly state a pseudo-
fact. It’s not that he’s saying, “I have 
developed X and Y relationships, 
as a matter of fact.” Rather, he’s 
playing with minds of voters with 
his unverifiable Trump-talk.

But why does this matter? I argue 

that speech and rhetoric forecast 
the nation we will live in for the 
next four or more years. So we, 
the American electorate, must ask 
ourselves: What kind of nation do 
we want to live in?

Do we want to live in fear for 

the next four years, forced to hide 
behind walls, scared of foreign 
ideas and enemies? Do we want to 
monopolize on freedom, liberty 
and equality while erecting borders 
and barriers? Or would we rather 
break down walls, lend a helping 
hand to our neighbors and work 
together toward a brighter, more 
tolerant future? Until we stop 
pointing fingers at the “Others,” and 
realize that we are the Others, we 
will continue to divide ourselves. A 
wall works both ways, and so does 
divisive rhetoric.

Let’s work as a nation to turn our 

pointed fingers into extended hands 
to help those around us. Secretary 
Clinton put it best in her Democratic 
National Convention speech when 
she said, “No one gets through life 
alone. We have to look out for each 
other and lift each other up.”

With 
job-searching 
in 
full 

swing, I look to the future with one 
particular goal in mind. My goal is 
to establish and strengthen empathy 
in governments at home and abroad. 
Empathy, once nourished and grown 
in the hearts of people, has the power 

to mitigate conflict, cast away hate 
and establish love. Empathy gives us 
the ability to see ourselves in the eyes 
of our opponents and realize that 
we’re all not so different. We stand on 
a common ground, albeit sometimes 
opposite sides of that ground. But we 
learn to walk from birth so we can 
meet in the middle and compromise 
with our fellow humans. Empathy 
helps us, as President Obama said at 
the DNC, conduct a “contest of ideas 
that pushes our country forward.” 
In fact, empathy is at the heart of 
democracy.

Now, empathy doesn’t call on 

people to hold hands, dance around 
the proverbial campfire and sing 
“Kumbaya.” Empathy helps us 
communicate our concerns in a 
productive manner so that the 
women and men we electcan find 
solutions. How can we expect our 
communities to stay safe, and our 
friends and families to be content in 
a supposed Union, if we can’t hear 
each other out long enough to come 
to a compromise?

To quote The Rolling Stones, 

“You can’t always get what you 
want. But if you try sometimes, well 
you just might find, you get what 
you need.”

So what do we need, America? 

Well, as I examine the two 
nominees, I conclude that they’re 
not running for the same position. 
No, in fact we have two offices up 
for grabs. While Secretary Clinton 
is running for the traditional office 
of the president of the United 
States of America, I believe Donald 
Trump has his eyes set on a new 
position: president of the Divided 
States of America. 

I call upon my fellow Americans 

to work toward union, not division. 
Exercise your right to vote and vote 
with empathy in mind. Remember, 
we are the Others. Come Nov. 
8, I’ll be voting with my Muslim 
community’s slogan in mind: Love 
for All, Hatred for None.

For a complete list of 24 student 

organization signees and additional 

references, visit michigandaily.com.

CLARISSA 

DONELLY-

DEROVEN

I

’ve always had a morbid 
curiosity with stalking dead 
strangers on the internet. 

The first dead stranger I remember 
stalking was Anna 
Svidersky. 
Svidersky 

was 
a 
17-year-old 

girl 
who 
lived 
in 

Vancouver, 
Wash., 

and 
was 
originally 

from a small town in 
Russia. She worked 
at a McDonald’s and 
was stabbed to death 
at work less than a 
week before her 18th 
birthday by a random 
schizophrenic 
man 

who 
was 
also 
a 

convicted sex offender.

I found out about Svidersky’s 

murder during the summer of 
2008 when I was 12 and had made 
a habit out of watching sad videos 
on YouTube, specifically videos 
set to Avril Lavigne background 
music — I was very moody. I 
watched as many slideshows of 
Svidersky set to pop-emo music 
as I could find. After that, I 
scoured her MySpace page and 
consumed unhealthy amounts of 
news stories about her murder.

I don’t know why I still know 

so much about Anna Svidersky. 
It’s really weird, and it actually 
makes me feel sort of gross. But 
what’s even more unsettling is that 
I still do things like this: I have an 
informal list of dead people I don’t 
know whose Facebooks I go to 
when I’ve run out of live people to 
stalk. Looking at dead strangers’ 
Facebook pages feels like a kind 
of pseudo-coping: I use others’ 
tragedies in order to simulate my 
own sadness. But I don’t actually 
know the people, so I don’t actually 
care. It’s like poverty porn, only 
it’s others’-pain-and-suffering-in-
order-to-give-myself-an-artificial-
and-controlled-emotional-
response-and-also-assuage-my-
distasteful-curiosity porn.

This strange (and potentially 

offensive) habit of mine probably 
has 
something 
to 
do 
with 

the 
strangeness 
of 
internet 

immortality. But it likely has more 
to do with me as a person and with 
my socialization in a culture that’s 
incredibly 
uncomfortable 
with 

non-ironic emotional expression.

Emotional expressions make 

me feel awkward: crying in front 
of people, grieving, expressing 

gratitude, 
admiring 
beauty, 

admitting love, etc. Sometimes 
when I’m about to cry in public, 
in order to avoid it or to deflect 

attention 
away 
from 

myself I say — ironically, 
of course — that I’ve built 
a reputation for myself 
as someone who doesn’t 
outwardly express her 
emotions. 
Emotional 

expressions make me 
uncomfortable because I 
have a hard time “doing” 
my emotions in a way 
that feels honest. Usually 
it feels like an “Am I 
actually 
feeling 
this? 

Or am I just doing this 

because we have a greeting card 
industry and I watch a lot of TV and 
when everyone else performs this 
emotion it always looks like this?” 
sort of way.

I’m thinking about all this 

because last Friday my really good 
friend had a stroke, and I’m having 
a hard time “processing.” Among 
other things, this friend and I 
have oddly built our relationship 
around this distaste for emotional 
expression. Neither of us are 
“huggers,” and usually instead of 
saying that someone hurt or upset us 
we say they’re “being a fuckhead.” 
We have an almost pathological 
aversion to sentiment, and I don’t 
think that makes us unique. In fact, 
I think an aversion to sentiment is 
actually a uniting factor for people 
our age in this specific cultural 
moment, and I think meme culture 
best exemplifies this.

Memes are about heavy stuff: 

racism, sexism, breaking up with 
partners, feeling like you’re wasting 
your 
life, 
being 
overworked, 

underpaid and exhausted, etc. 
These are serious things that we 
have serious feelings about. But 
memes are also ironic. There’s no 
such thing as a serious meme — I 
mean there is, but it’s ironic about 
the fact that it’s serious. Memes take 
our emotions about heavy things, 
which at times can feel debilitating 
and all-encompassing and even 
embarrassing, and pairs them with 
a silly photo in order to make us 
laugh about our pain, in order to 
make the emotion digestible.

The use of irony as a coping 

mechanism is nothing new, and 
it’s 
nothing 
that’s 
necessarily 

problematic. I like irony a lot of the 
time, but I worry that our use of 

irony has become too layered, that 
it’s become a totality: And by that 
I mean that we literally can’t say 
anything serious anymore. (Also, 
I’m not the first person to worry 
about this. Check out David Foster 
Wallace’s essay E Unibus Pluram: 
Television and U.S. Fiction.)

When people say serious things, 

they (we) worry about sounding 
cliché. This is a hard thing to worry 
about because it’s mostly true: 
Almost everything that isn’t ironic 
can sound cliché. We have too many 
behavioral referents, too many 
cultural examples of people acting 
out this emotion and this situation 
for us to feel like we actually 
decided how we wanted to have 
and feel and show this emotion. 
So it feels phony and dishonest to 
say anything serious, even if you 
mean it, because you’re unable to 
articulate if you really feel this way 
and want to do this thing to express 
this emotion, or if you’re just doing 
it because that’s how you’ve seen it 
done before and how you feel like 
you’re supposed to do it.

It’s a crisis of authenticity. It’s 

an alienation from the self where 
we don’t see ourselves as human 
individuals with agency, but rather 
subjects within an ideology that 
says feelings and sentiment are 
lame, and there’s no way to not be 
cliché except by being ironic. We see 
no other way out, so we oblige. 

Consuming 
dead 
strangers’ 

Facebook pages doesn’t require me 
to have serious emotions; in fact, 
I can list it off as an ironic activity 
I do when I’m asked about that 
sort of thing. But I think I use it as 
a way to prove to myself that I can 
do emotional expression, that I can 
privately, genuinely feel a thing and 
that it’s not all just a performance. 
But when an actual sad thing 
happens in my life, I don’t know 
what to do with all my feelings. I 
get stuck in a cycle of wondering 
if I actually feel this way or if I’m 
just performing my sadness this 
way because this is what it looks 
like when other people do it. So I 
don’t cry and I try to avoid talking 
about the fragility of human life. 
I say stupid things about meme 
culture and stalk dead strangers on 
Facebook. I get stuck in irony.

My problem with emotional expression

CLARISSA DONELLY-DEROVEN | COLUMN

Clarissa Donnelly-DeRoven can be 

reached at cedon@umich.edu.

Divided states of America

IBRAHIM IJAZ | OP-ED

Ibrahim Ijaz is a public policy junior.

A

s someone who firmly 
believes in the value of 
aid work and service 

to others, and providing I 
spent last summer working at 
a Buddhist nunnery where I 
performed intensive community-
based 
inquiry 
to 
create 

comprehensive 
examples 
of 

good communication with local 
people as a means of improving 
the conduct of foreign aid 
groups, I have a few important 
words to share in response to 
one of my classmate’s critical 
remarks on the matter.

My classmate described her 

thoughts about “two realms of 
protecting human rights” like 
this: On one hand, you have 
the people who are tending to 
the injuries that the system 
inflicts 
on 
disadvantaged 

groups. On the other, you 
have the real heroes that are 
actively working to dismantle 
the roots of oppression and 
suffering inlaid in the system. 
She continued saying if we 
want to end injustice, we must 
go straight to the root; all other 
ventures only serve to detract 
from this overall goal, and play 
a major role in perpetuating 
human suffering.

But what I think is even more 

“harmful” than attending to the 
damage inflicted by systematic 
abuse is attempting to fragment 
the solidarity of social justice 
workers by asserting that one 
category of social justice work 
is fundamentally more valuable 
than another. The point is not 
to victimize aid workers for 
“ignoring the roots of suffering,” 
nor is it to create a moral chasm 
between two groups that are 
fighting for the same purpose, 
the same humanity.

Systematic 
change 
is, 
of 

course, our main priority on the 
path to ending human suffering 

in all shapes and forms. I do not 
refute this fact. I dream of a 
world in which the systematic 
factors that cause voices to 
cry out for help are destroyed 
so there are no reasons to cry 
out for help in the first place. 
Unfortunately, it will be a 
long and arduous process to 
arrive at a political, economic 
and legal infrastructure that 
flawlessly eradicates all of the 
internal factors that fuel this 
endless stream of injustices 
against humanity. Let alone a 
system that functions within all 
worldly borders.

My 
point: 
We 
must 
all 

cooperate on a united front. 
We need the whole range of 
social justice workers to drive 
the movement forward. As we 
actively work to disassemble 
the overarching structures that 
are the root causes of suffering, 
we must simultaneously serve 
and pay active attention to 
the victims of these structural 
abuses. What’s more, we must 
ensure this aid is lasting and 
effective. We cannot simply 
ignore the human suffering of 
today in the name of completely 
eradicating human suffering in 
the future.

Instead 
of 
victimizing 

aid 
workers 
and 
charity 

organizations 
for 
providing 

pseudo-aid, we should focus on 
improving the framework of the 
humanitarian aid sector so its 
overall impact is quantifiably 
beneficial. Most importantly, we 
must scrap the aged method of 
self-directed, imperialistic-style 
foreign-aid projects and instead 
dive deep into perspectives of 
the actual victims of systematic 
injustice. The problem is not 
humanitarian 
aid 
by 
itself, 

but rather the rampant lack 
of diligence that plagues this 
sector.

A significant example of this 

is what has been occurring in 
the Democratic Republic of 
the Congo. For more than a 
century, the country has been 
overwhelmed 
by 
regional 

conflict and a deadly struggle for 
its vast mineral resources. The 
hunger for Congo’s abundant 
natural resources has been a 
chief driver of brutalities and 
conflict throughout the country’s 
history. In eastern Congo today, 
these mineral resources are 
funding several armed groups, 
and these groups use mass gang 
rape as a methodical tactic to 
control local populations, thus 
securing control of mines and 
trading routes.

Dr. 
Denis 
Mukwege, 
a 

renowned 
gynecological 

surgeon in Congo who has helped 
perform more than 30,000 free 
operations for women who have 
experienced gang rape and 
sexual violence, and Michael 
Ramsdell, 
a 
filmmaker 
and 

devoted advocate of ending the 
conflict mineral crisis in Congo, 
encompass 
exactly 
what 
it 

means to cooperate on a united 
front 
against 
gross 
human 

rights violations.

Mukwege 
and 
Ramsdell 

have formed a publicly visible 
coalition, one that unites the 
treatment 
of 
abuse 
victims 

and the gradual dismantling of 
the contemporary structures 
that inflicted these injuries. 
This coalition furthers their 
common goal infinitely more 
than 
working 
against 
each 

other could ever achieve. This 
coalition attends to suffering in 
the present and the future. 

Seeking what connects us

HANNA DOUGHERTY | OP-ED

Hanna Dougherty is an LSA junior.

michigandaily.com

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