A

ll
over
our
social

media feeds, everyone
is dubbing 2016 the

worst year. But was it really?
Frankly, I think the
reasoning for why
it was the worst
is hyperbolic. The
statement is mainly
tongue-in-cheek,
citing the deaths of
famous
celebrities

such
as
Prince,

David Bowie and
Carrie Fisher as the
reason why the year
was
so
horrible.

The reactions to the
deaths of some of our favorite
stars are relatively harmless,
but reveal something about
the
country’s
favoritism

toward
the
famous
and

those
immediately
in
our

consciousness.

At the end of December,

Fisher, of “Star Wars” Princess
Leia fame, passed away at the
age of 60 from a heart attack.
The outpouring of support and
well-wishes has been extended
to her family, co-stars and even
her dog. There’s nothing wrong
with this. It may seem trivial
to some, but I couldn’t imagine
how I would feel if one of my
favorite
entertainers
passed

away. What may seem strange
or unimportant to some means
something dear to another. Some
of these people had a personal
relationship with Fisher, and
it
is
appropriate
to
grieve

immediately after her death.

The problem lies within the

discrepancy many have when
grieving over loss of life. This
isn’t a critique of political
correctness,
but
rather
an

observation. 2016 was a year
of multiple tragedies across
the globe, which made it
incredibly
saddening
from

many standpoints. The year
can’t be deemed as bad solely
because
beloved
celebrities

passed away. There may be a
lack of personal connection,
but there should be equal acts
of empathy for those who have

lost their lives in
Aleppo, for example,
as well as individuals
like Fisher.

As of right now, if

an alien came to our
planet, they would
probably
observe

that
the
masses

deem
celebrities

as more important
than others. There
are
far
more

stories
online

and
topics
of
discussion

surrounding celebrity deaths
and calamities than those of
regular people. It’s just odd
that tons of attention goes
toward one person for a while
when there are many other
groups of people that need
support as well.

I own up that I haven’t

shown
equal
amounts
of

concern and grief in these
situations, either. I text my
girlfriend
something
sad

about Fisher because we both
love “Star Wars,” but show no
sign of sadness or support for
those oppressed and in danger
overseas. Doing that made me
question why others and I do
this and what these actions
say about our Western society.

Examples
like
these
of

favoritism and apathy toward
others could be from a result
of lack of coverage, personal
connection or care toward
the affected. It’s important
that we continue to realize
that all lives matter (not in
the way that opposes Black
Lives Matter, but in a fashion
that
doesn’t
dismiss
the

oppression of any group of
people). I had friends point
out this discrepancy in news
coverage to me, citing how
there was constant coverage

and changing of Facebook
profile pictures when the
terrorist
attack
happened

at the Batalan Concert Hall
in France, but not as many
cameras or grieving statuses
in response to violence in
the Middle East. The United
States as a government —
and even its citizens — can
be prone to show more care
toward its allies and its own
than those it isn’t closely
connected to.

We must not forget about

the
disadvantaged
and

endangered both on U.S. soil
and abroad. We can show
our support and share our
grief for those people on
social media, by volunteering,
donating or reminding others
of what is going on outside
of
our
immediate
worlds.

Again, there’s nothing wrong
with being sad over the death
of our favorite celebrities,
and while they may have
touched our lives more than
an average citizen thousands
of miles away, every life is
equally important and should
be treated as such. It’s just
that many lives aren’t given
the same amount of limelight
or recognition.

We can still show our love

for the beautiful lyricism of
Bowie that we’ll never hear
live again, the spunk of Fisher,
and post memes of how Betty
White
and
other
elderly

celebrities should be protected
from death for the whole
year. But at the same rate, the
people of Flint who still don’t
have clean water, the citizens
of Aleppo who have seen their
homes crumble, and tragedies
that affect our friends and
family should be recognized
with at least the same amount
of effort.

Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Wednesday, January 4, 2017

A new kind of resolution

ANU ROY-CHAUDHURY | COLUMN

E

ight percent. That’s the
percentage of people
who actually achieve

their New Year’s
resolutions. Every
year,
millions

vow to change or
improve something
in their lives for
the coming year.
It’s a tradition that
endures even with
its low success rate
and
surrounding

skepticism.
But,

it makes sense. A
new year is a new
start, a clean slate and a hopeful
beginning. It’s a new year that
has the potential to be better
than the year before, so we
make resolutions to ensure the
potential. If you are one of the
few who can stick with it,
even better.

This year feels different.

In hindsight, 2016 seems like
a terrible year. The past few
months have seen shocking
change after change around
the world: the enduring crises
in the Middle East, fatal
shootings and violence in the
United States and changing
political landscapes around
the world. Simply, change has
been frequent and unnerving
in 2016. Social media has
been
filled
with
statuses,

tweets and, of course, memes
commenting
on
just
how

bad 2016 was and a seeming
readiness to enter 2017. Yet,
this
type
of
commentary,

which
many
have
likely

seen on Twitter feeds and in
Instagram posts, is blaming
2016’s problems on 2016. But
aren’t we actually to blame?

More often than not, New

Year’s resolutions are based
more on our personal lives and
less on what’s going on in the
world. This is most evident
in the popular resolution to
exercise more, a resolution
that results in a massive gym
rush in the weeks following
New
Year’s.
Resolutions

always seem to be individual

and insular. They are about
improving our own lives and
are derived from sayings like

“New year, new me.”

With this type of

thinking, New Year’s
resolutions take on a
sense of selfishness,
a selfishness we are
all prone to. And
maybe, just maybe,
that’s why they fail.
As
the
8
percent

shows, these types of
personal resolutions
aren’t
typically

followed
through

on, which means the packed
gym
eventually
dwindles

down to its normal crowd. So,
if resolutions are supposed
to be about improving the
coming
year,
maybe
we

shouldn’t focus simply on
ourselves. Perhaps a new kind
of resolution is needed.

A few years back, my high

school English teacher showed
our class Chimamanda Ngozi
Adichie’s
TED
Talk
“The

Danger of a Single Story.” This
TED Talk eventually became
one of the most watched of its
kind. Over break, I decided to
re-watch it and was reminded
of just how powerful words are.
And just as most TED Talks
do, the speech made me really
think. Originally given in 2009,
its
message
of
assumption

and acceptance is one that,
in light of recent events, felt
more fitting than ever. Adichie,
who was born in Nigeria, talks
about
her
experience
with

stereotypes
throughout
her

life and how the single story
or stereotype is a mark and
perpetuation of a power which
disregards so much.

Adichie
explains
how

important
and
prominent

storytelling is in our lives,
whether we realize it or not.
We learn from talking to each
other,
from
hearing
about

different experiences, which
ultimately add to our own.
A
“single
story,”
however,

is
detrimental.
Instead
of

creating human connections, a
single story dissolves them.

With the recent election

and crises around the world,
division seems more apparent
than
ever.
On
our
own

campus, our own microcosm
of the world, we have felt
the
divisiveness.
Posters,

petitions and protests, along
with a rise in hate crimes
post-election,
have
formed

from stereotyping those who
don’t agree with us. It then
creates a division that at its
root comes from assumption,
stereotyping and ultimately
the “single story.”

After watching the TED

Talk last week, I got rid of
my original and admittedly
selfish resolution and instead
decided on a new one: Work
to prevent the single story and
stray from accepting it. After
all, stereotypes are almost
like a heuristic — it’s a short
cut and a defense mechanism
for many. Yet, its dangers
were exemplified by many
events in 2016 and as Adichie
so eloquently said, “When we
reject the single story, when
we realize that there is never
a single story about any place,
we regain a kind of paradise.”

Talk about how horrible

2016 was is warranted. But
blaming it on something as
intangible as four numbers
is not. It was a rough year,
it was a divisive year, but
if we make resolutions on
improving
ourselves
for

the next year, then why not
gear them toward improving
things around us? New Year’s
resolutions seem to be about
the individual, and they often
fail. So maybe, just maybe,
a resolution that is for more
than just ourselves can have
a better success rate. I know
my resolution is ambitious,
but maybe it will be easier and
more worthwhile than going
to the gym every day.

REBECCA LERNER

Managing Editor

420 Maynard St.

Ann Arbor, MI 48109

tothedaily@michigandaily.com

Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.

EMMA KINERY

Editor in Chief

ANNA POLUMBO-LEVY

and REBECCA TARNOPOL

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
Caitlin Heenan
Jeremy Kaplan

Max Lubell

Alexis Megdanoff

Madeline Nowicki
Anna Polumbo-Levy

Jason Rowland

Ali Safawi

Kevin Sweitzer

Rebecca Tarnopol

Ashley Tjhung

Stephanie Trierweiler

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

Anu Roy-Chaudhury can be reached

at anuroy@umich.edu.

Chris Crowder can be reached at

ccrowd@umich.edu.

2016’s forgotten tragedies

CHRIS CROWDER | COLUMN

CHRIS

CROWDER

ANU

ROY-CHAUDHURY

T

his past year was a
bizarre ride. The Cubs
won the World Series,

“killer”
clowns
allegedly

roamed the land and the man
who invented the Kinder Egg
Surprise passed away, just to
name a few. I could go on.

For
me,
however,
the

strangest part of 2016 might
have been getting by on my
Franglish for 10 weeks to work
in Tours, France, at an event
management company. And,
more specifically, the most
surreal part had to be working
at the Tours American Festival.

Imagine Elvis impersonators

and trucks, country music and
Twinkies — everything that
apparently
spells
American

culture to a foreign nation.
I wasn’t sure what to expect
when I showed up at work
on the first day, but it wasn’t
really that. When I think of the
United States, I think of a lot of
things, but not necessarily swing
dancing and rodeos.

It
was
strange
to
walk

through the booths and find
small, eccentric elements of a
larger picture of my home, like
stumbling on a baffling puzzle
that was partially put together
with none of the missing pieces
present. When these pieces came
together, they didn’t make a map
of the states, but rather an odd
caricature of the old West with
some of the aesthetics of the 1950s
(which, now that I’ve written that
sentence, I feel needs to be the
basis of a horror film).

The main upsides for me

were that A) I got to enjoy some
cupcakes
there,
which
was

great because they’re not the
most common dessert to find in
France, and B) my conspicuous
American accent became an
attractive oddity to the people I
spoke with rather than a reason
to walk away quickly.

However, there was a strange

discomfort in existing in that

space and seeing my own culture
through
another
country’s

lens. There was no context for
anything that was on display,
including the cringier parts of
our history and cultural artifacts
that had been included. There
were women walking around
in attire that recalled 1950s
housewives,
complete
with

aprons (hmm...), teepees next
to
parked
covered
wagons

(yikes) and T-shirts with the
Confederate
flag
on
them

(yikes again).

Not for the first time, I

considered
the
incredibly

complex concept of cultural
appropriation, or, to grossly
oversimplify
it,
the
use
or

adoption of one culture’s elements
(fashion, slang, customs, etc.) by
another culture. Was this that?
Was American culture being
appropriated? I couldn’t help
but think that were this a Syrian
Festival or a Chinese Fair put on
by French natives in the way that
this American festival was being
produced, picking and choosing
bits and pieces of their aesthetic
and music and history to partake
in, there might have been issues
(to put it lightly). In this case
though, I couldn’t see any kind
of backlash coming from it, and
perhaps rightly so.

To be completely honest,

I was slightly uncomfortable
with the incongruous portrayal
of America that I was seeing. It
left out some of the best and the
worst aspects of the country,
from our weird school systems
to our ability to make a club or

organization for almost anything
to our worrisome race relations.

However,
I
didn’t
feel

particularly upset with what
I was experiencing. The fact
of the matter, since it was the
United
States
in
question,

is that American culture is
already one of, if not the most,
dominant
cultures
in
the

world. Our media is spread
worldwide,
and
American

tastes are often catered to or
treated as the default. While
there are plentiful issues with
imposing
American
culture

and ideals on a global scale,
it’s
already
happened.
It’s

out there and if others want
to respectfully play in the
sandbox that is our culture, I
would say, “Here’s a shovel —
I’m making a sandcastle.”

In short, while I would have

liked to have been sure that the
people around me understood
the context and history of what
they were engaging with, I really
didn’t mind others participating
in
it.
American
culture
in

particular isn’t one that can
solely be behind glass; at this
point in globalization, it’s in its
nature to be shared as others
see fit. We can’t own what we’ve
given away.

That said, I do have some

suggestions
for
the
next

American
Festival.
There

needs to be a rule that everyone
smile uncomfortably or give
a nod of acknowledgement to
everyone they pass — bonus
points if you show teeth when
you smile. When the vendors
sell something, they have to ask
how the customer is doing, even
if they don’t care or don’t know
them. Every kiosk needs a drive-
thru lane. All drinks need to
have free refills and ice cubes.
(Even coffee. It is law.)

Including these small changes

might add up to something closer
to what America really looks like.
That’s my America, at least.

Americana from the outside

SARAH LEESON | COLUMN

SARAH LEESON

Sarah Leeson can be reached at

sleeson@umich.edu.

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— President Barack Obama tweeted a New Years Day greeting on January 1st.
“

NOTABLE QUOTABLE

It’s been the privilege of my life
to serve as your President. I look

forward to standing with you
as a citizen. Happy New Year

everybody. ”

American culture
in particular isn’t
one that can solely

be behind glass.