100%

Scanned image of the page. Keyboard directions: use + to zoom in, - to zoom out, arrow keys to pan inside the viewer.

Page Options

Download this Issue

Share

Something wrong?

Something wrong with this page? Report problem.

Rights / Permissions

This collection, digitized in collaboration with the Michigan Daily and the Board for Student Publications, contains materials that are protected by copyright law. Access to these materials is provided for non-profit educational and research purposes. If you use an item from this collection, it is your responsibility to consider the work's copyright status and obtain any required permission.

January 13, 2017 - Image 4

Resource type:
Text
Publication:
The Michigan Daily

Disclaimer: Computer generated plain text may have errors. Read more about this.

A

s our bodies change, so
do our perceptions of the
body types we consider

“normal.” As a young white girl
growing up in a small town,
surrounded by other young
white girls, it was easy to pick
out my own flaws in comparison
to theirs. In the classic coming-
of-age fashion, I came to realize
that the world of bodies was
incredibly diverse outside of my
community, yet in spite of this,
the representation of bodies in
media is still focused narrowly
on the same young, white,
feminine bodies with which I
was so familiar.

For centuries, there have

been women who have been
unhappy with the way they look.
Though trends have changed,
this commonality of a negative
body image has remained. This
critical self-perception is most
prominent through adolescence
and
typically
persists
into

adulthood. Various literature
suggests that perfectionism,
defined by Merriam-Webster
as “a disposition to regard
anything short of perfection as
unacceptable,” is a core factor
in body dissatisfaction and
eating disorders among women.

What I quickly learned was

that the University of Michigan
is home to an exceedingly large
population of perfectionists,
which
explained
both
the

intense
academic
standards

to
which
students
held

themselves and the consistent
physical regime which those
very same students follow.
I personally do not have the
necessary determination and
work ethic that is required for
a perfectionist personality, but
many of my friends and peers do.
While in various circumstances
such a personality is useful and
rewarding (by holding oneself
to high standards, one is more
apt to travel upward in terms of
career and success), in terms of
body image and the perfectibility

of the body — specifically among
women — perfectionism quickly
becomes dangerous.

The prevalence of thinness in

the media can explain the ideals
to which women so strictly
hold themselves. What various
studies (and common sense)
show us is most media outlets
portray women as thin, and
representation
matters.
This

topic has many branches, but
focusing specifically on body
type, ask yourself how many
female television characters you
can think of with body types that
would wear anywhere between
a size 16-18 (the sizes of the
average American woman as
reported by Psychology Today).

A dangerous mix is created

when women are told that
the admirable body type is
incredibly thin and toned, and
these same women are taught to
work rigorously to achieve their
goals by any means possible.
While it’s obviously healthy to
exercise and eat well, excessive
habits in any form become
problematic
quickly. This
is

occasionally apparent in the
young women who go to the
gym seven days a week without
fail, who’ve vowed to cut sugar
and carbohydrates entirely from
their diets. (I cannot and do not
wish to define what is or should
be considered “healthy” because
that term is purely subjective.
What is healthy for some may not
be for others. This subjectivity is
the kryptonite of dealing with
eating disorders.)

But when this behavior is

flaunted and praised, as it often
is on college campuses, we
come to consider it as the ideal.
While for many this lifestyle is
healthy and at times necessary
for mental well-being, this is
not universally the case. When
subjective methods are applied
objectively, problems arise. The
adoption of a strict diet and
exercise regimen may result in
significant bodily and mental
change for some, and not for
others,
thus
perpetuating

distress among young women

who are so desperately striving
for physical perfection.

Even
further,
there
is

certainly a class divide between
those who are and are not able
to afford gym memberships
and health foods, which are
considered necessary for these
idealistically healthy lifestyles.
The
distress
of
lacking

requisite resources to attain
this bodily ideal is greater than
is immediately visible, and the
various racial, cultural and
class-based setbacks to young
women attempting to achieve
this ideal are innumerable.

So we ask ourselves, “How

do
we
change
this?”
One

possible immediate response is
simply to call for more realistic
representation in media or to
advertise healthier, less extreme
lifestyles. But these solutions fail
to account for the damage that is
already done. What’s more, this
norm is already perpetuated by
the young women it affects and
those around them.

I do believe that, over time,

bodily ideals can be modified
into
more
attainable
and

inclusive forms on a global
scale. However, change such as
this does not happen overnight,
and there are more personal
and individualistic efforts that
can be made in the meantime.
Instead, I argue, we should
utilize
mindfulness.
Do
not

discuss with your friends how
little or how much you’ve eaten
that day. Do not boast how much
weight you’ve lost or gained
in the past week. By focusing
less on physical aspects of
one another, we can end the
personal perpetuation of these
potentially harmful ideals and
simultaneously focus on aspects
of our peers that do not need to
be changed by diet restrictions
and
gym
memberships.
Be

mindful of how others might
perceive your words. What
seems harmless to you may not
seem so innocent to another.

O

ver
the
past
eight

years,
our
country

has gone through a

lot, from mass shootings and
arguments over gun control
to
human
rights

crises such as the
Flint water crisis
and
the
Dakota

Access
Pipeline

protests. Maybe it’s
just because of the
consistent flow of
media making us
aware of everything
wrong in the world,
but times have been
tough
lately.
But

when it comes to
the issues of racism and police
brutality, there was no better
president to be in office than
Barack Obama.

Obama’s
campaign
from

2008 seems like a distant
memory to some, but the slogan
“Change we can believe in” and
the chant “Yes We Can” still
ring loudly in my memory and
have remained applicable for
both his terms. I remember
watching his inauguration in
my seventh-grade science class
and feeling such an aura of
positivity and hope.

It personally meant so much

to me because someone like me
(mixed, born to a Black father
and a white mother) was the
most important man in the
country and perhaps the world.
Who knows when or if that
will happen again. He was a
president whom I felt I could
relate to, who made me laugh
and smile and cheer him on.

He
set
a
beautiful

example of a loving, devoted
husband, father and public
servant, combating the many
unfortunate
stereotypes

attributed to Black men. He
didn’t come from a privileged
background
and
faced

discrimination throughout his

life, whether he was going to
a predominately white high
school in Hawaii or becoming
the first Black president of the
Harvard Law Review. He rose

to the top position
in the country as a
Black man, giving
faith to many that
they
can
achieve

great things (though
that isn’t possible
for
all,
especially

with vast disparities
in the quality of
living
conditions

and education we’re
born into).

Obama
was
a

symbol of hope for many
Americans, especially Black
citizens,
and
certainly
for

myself when racial tensions
were high. No matter the result
of the most recent election,
a clear divide has emerged,
polarizing us to two sides:
whether
you
believe
race

relations and racism are still
prevalent in the country or not.

From my perspective, racism

can be covert but is still a large
issue in our country. There
has been a disproportionate
number
of
Black
people

shot by police compared to
whites, a clear mistreatment
of Black people all over the
news and a disregard of the
fears and feelings of people
who are afraid of what could
potentially happen to them or
their loved ones.

On the nights when I prayed

that my father or sister would
be safe and mourned for the
men and women who have lost
their lives because of profiling
or oppression, Obama was a
symbol of hope for me. I had
a
president
that
probably

was mourning over the same
issues. He shed a tear when
the Sandy Hook Elementary
School shooting happened and

displayed empathy whenever
a tragedy struck our country.
And he didn’t just mourn — he
used his words to bring us all
together and attempted to use
his position to pass laws, such
as the curbing of gun usage.

In the beginning of July, after

the wrongful death of Philando
Castile, Obama’s words hit the
nail on the head about why
everyone should care that there
are people dying in the streets
at the hands of police: “When
incidents
like
this
occur,

there is a big chunk of our
fellow citizenry that feels as
if because of the color of their
skin they are not being treated
the same. And that hurts. And
that should trouble all of us.”
This was a president who got it
and gave extensive statements
on the topic, not shying away
from it or dismissing it like
other politicians.

I smiled at pictures giving

us glimpses of Obama’s life
at the White House, such as
when he hysterically laughed
at a baby dressed as the pope. I
felt empowered listening to his
State of the Union addresses
as he used his gift of public
speaking to comfort the nation.
I know that there’s nearly half
the country that voted against
him and perhaps many view him
unfavorably, but I think there’s
an argument to be made that he
is one of the most personable
presidents we’ve ever had. And
that side of him is what we
needed at times. We needed a
president to make us laugh and
tell us the reality of situations
while guiding us through them
with poise and empathy.

All in all, I’m overjoyed that

my president looked like me.
It’s not just that — he cared like
me, too.

Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Friday, January 13, 2017

Resolutions for every year

ANTHONY COZART | OP-ED

I

n an episode of “Master of
None,” the Netflix comedy
produced by and starring

Aziz Ansari, there’s a scene
where a colleague of Ansari’s
character,
Dev,
introduces

himself to Dev’s friends at a New
York City bar. The colleague only
addresses the men at the table,
which Dev’s romantic partner
Rachel, played by Noël Wells,
reacts to immediately. She points
out the colleague had treated
her and the other women in the
group as if they were invisible.
Dev and his male friends brush
it off, making up excuses: Dev’s
colleague was in a hurry, people
aren’t so awful and they’re
overreacting.

Two things stand out in the

scene: the initial sexist, if subtle,
act by Dev’s colleague and the
men’s reactions. The men tell
Rachel and the other women,
who have just experienced the
sexist act, that they’re wrong.
They (and their excuses) reject
their female friends’ perceptions
of what just happened and how
they’re treated more generally.
Later, Rachel describes what
this is like: “When somebody,
especially my boyfriend, tells me
that I’m wrong without having
any way of knowing my personal
experience, it’s insulting.”

Watching the episode over

winter break made me think
more about the experiences of my
female friends and classmates.
In the fall, a close friend told
me that almost the same scene
and
treatment
happened
to

her. I’d also heard from others
about colleagues who regularly
“mansplain” and about similar
subtle sexist acts. Apart from
listening to and encouraging my
friends after the incidents, I’d
done little to help.

Like many people, during the

holidays I also began to consider
resolutions for the New Year.
How can I be happier, healthier
and more successful in 2017?
While I’ve adopted resolutions
with this question in mind, I’ve
also included several addressing
the
sexism
and
misogyny

displayed in the “Master of
None” scene. They’re resolutions
that we (men, on campus and
more generally) should keep:
to avoid these common sexist
acts, however small, subtle or
unintended,
to
support
our

peers, interjecting instead of
justifying the offense (as Dev did
in the episode) and to intervene
whenever possible.

The episode is powerful, in part,

because it demonstrates these
acts are ubiquitous and happen
even in progressive bubbles of
Manhattan (and Ann Arbor). Like
the characters in the episode, I’m a
feminist in principle, likely because
of my mother’s experiences as a
leading female lawyer. And while I
try to be conscious of what I say and
do toward others — for example,
by avoiding using stereotypes and
gendered terms — I’ve found and
seen how it can be easy to make
these mistakes. Last week, while
walking with a female colleague

to teach our first classes of the
semester, I made a quick comment
that,
while
well
intentioned,

may have sounded demeaning,
however slight.

How
can
we
keep
these

resolutions?

To start, we can stop and stand

up to “mansplaining,” the not-at-
all subtle or insignificant practice
of men explaining to others,
often women, a topic or idea in
a condescending or patronizing
way. According to research on
team building, listening to and
respecting
others
makes
us

more successful. (I also plan to
read more, including the book
“Men Explain Things to Me,” by
Rebecca Solnit.)

Another way is to cut out the

jokes — which are often online and
justified as “trolling.” At the end of
last semester, a female classmate
posted a reminder to Facebook
about using gendered language
in instructor evaluations. One of
my male peers commented “No.”
Whether joking or not, in doing
so he delegitimized her point.
Someone should have responded,
yet no one did. On the same
topic, we can abstain from using
gendered terms and slurs in our
conversations and messages.

We can stop talking over,

crowding
out,
discounting,

bulldozing and interrupting our
female classmates. We can reflect
on what we said, saw and heard
in 2016 and when we should
have stood up for others. We
can commit to holding our peers
more accountable, to act in ways
that reflect our beliefs. And we
can listen to, learn from, help and
support our female peers, this
year and in the future.

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
Megan Burns
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

Anthony Cozart is a Public Policy

graduate student.

Sincerely: Thanks, Obama

CHRIS CROWDER | COLUMN

CHRIS

CROWDER

Striving for perfection

MEGAN BURNS | COLUMN

Megan Burns can be reached at

megburns@umich.edu.

EMILY WOLFE | CONTACT CARTOONIST AT ELWOLFE@UMICH.EDU

Chris Crowder can be reached at

ccrowd@umich.edu.

MEGAN BURNS

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.

Avoid these

common sexist
acts, however
small, subtle or

unintended

Back to Top

© 2024 Regents of the University of Michigan