G
rowing up in Midwest
Ohio, celebrities existed
only on movie screens.
They were enigmas, and I thought
of them more as the
characters they played
than who they actually
were. However, every
January, I got what
felt
like
an
inside
glimpse of Hollywood:
the Golden Globes. I
loved watching the
red-carpet entrances
on TV, complete with
awkward interviews,
extravagant
dresses
and a feeling that the people I
watched in my favorite movies
were real. But perhaps most of
all, I enjoyed the acceptance
speeches: the brief words each
actor, actress, director or other
member of the film industry
would share with the world.
Acceptance
speeches
always
tended
to
be
heartfelt
and
grateful and above all, defied the
stereotype of celebrities.
You could see it in their faces
and feel it in their words; these
people often thought of as rich
and
selfish
were
passionate
about what they did and grateful
for the opportunity. Maybe I’m
naïve or maybe these people are
just really good actors. Either
way,
acceptance
speeches
always felt real. Yet, after recent
awards shows — in particular,
last week’s Golden Globes — I
realize
acceptance
speeches
aren’t just demonstrations of
celebrities’ acting abilities but
rather conscious efforts to use
their fame for something greater.
When I sat down last Sunday
to watch the Golden Globes, I
was expecting the same glimpse
of Hollywood I got every year.
Instead, the trend of awareness-
raising
speeches
continued,
this time from one of the
most timeless actresses of our
generation: Meryl Streep. After
accepting the Cecil B. DeMille
lifetime
achievement
award,
Streep took the stage with the
same gratefulness most actors do.
But instead of thanking those in
her Hollywood community who
helped her along the way, she
turned to the camera and spoke to
us all, delivering moving words on
Donald Trump’s presidency and
the change all Americans know is
on the horizon — whether you are
a Trump supporter or not. Streep
took a platform — in this case
at an awards show stage at the
Beverly Hills Hilton
Hotel — to call out the
threatening nature of
a Trump presidency, a
presidency she openly
disagrees with.
While
Streep’s
speech took social
media by storm the
next day, she is not
the only celebrity to
use an acceptance
speech for political
purposes. At last year’s Oscars,
it seemed as though every
other
speech
was
used
to
raise awareness for something
the winner felt needed to be
addressed. The long-awaited win
for Leonardo DiCaprio for Best
Actor was met with a powerful
speech on the enduring effects
of climate change. But even
before that, political speeches
were common at award shows.
The Washington Post outlined
some
memorable
acceptance
speeches, including one from
1973 when Marlon Brando sent
a young Native American girl
in his place as to draw attention
to the discrimination of Native
Americans by the film industry.
Many may argue a celebrity’s
role in politics is ironic; they can
play characters that experience
injustices but they themselves
are
images
of
money
and
privilege. Yet, with speeches
like Streep’s and those before
her, I find myself comforted
by the fact these people of
wealth and privilege are using
their platforms to speak out.
After hearing an actress I have
admired for so long speak
about a presidency that brings
uncertainty and fear to the
institutions and ideals I believe
in — in particular, the press
— I was grateful. Whether or
not celebrities have a place in
politics isn’t the question; they
will always have a spotlight
and their use of it to shed light
on other issues is powerful,
possibly more powerful now
than ever.
Trump responded to Streep’s
eloquent and strong speech in
what we now can consider true
Trump fashion: The president-
elect tweeted, “Meryl Streep,
one of the most over-rated
actresses in Hollywood, doesn’t
know me but attacked last night
at the Golden Globes …” At this
point, I shouldn’t be surprised
by Trump’s tweets, yet they get
me every time. But perhaps most
ironic is Streep’s delivery of an
opposing view to our president-
elect’s. Here is a woman who
most of us have nothing in
common with, yet she was able
to use her Hollywood soapbox
to translate what many of us
have been feeling. But even
more, without once mentioning
the name of the person behind
those feelings. And ironically,
the man she stood up against
has more in common with her
than we do.
Trump’s
presidency
is
juxtaposed with his ties to
Hollywood. A president usually
becomes a celebrity, but doesn’t
begin as one. Trump’s past of
wealth,
privilege
and
fame
make him more like the Meryl
Streeps of the world than college
students like me. But last Sunday
night proved how fame does
not always equal ignorance or
selfishness and that politics are
not subjected to one group but
affect us all. For me, Streep’s
speech was made with concerted
empathy and thoughtfulness.
She spoke for many, in particular
foreigners
and
the
press,
drawing attention to people
whose soapboxes may not be as
tall as her own. I can only wish
that Trump, whose own fame is
about to increase exponentially,
will do the same, except now as
the leader of our country.
We all have seen the remarkably
un-presidential
tweets
and
speeches from the president-
elect. Trump’s discourse has
taken away the elegance and
power of words in politics. The
excessive exclamation points
and defensiveness are a stark
change from what is expected
of
a
conventional
public
official. Yet, with speeches like
Streep’s, maybe the power of
the spoken word in politics will
now come from the places we
least expect it.
L
ately
I
have
been
thinking
about
race
more than usual. As
a
dark,
African-American
woman, it is difficult not
to think about my race. I
am constantly aware of my
complexion. I do not have the
privilege of being a lighter skin
tone, blending in or choosing
which community to belong to.
The choice had been made for
me long before I was even born.
Yet, I tried to convince
myself and the people around
me
that
I
was
different
from
others
with
similar
complexions.
I
so
strongly
believed that being African
American was different from
being Black. I was frustrated
and confused by people’s use
of African American as the
proper name for the Black race.
I considered African American
to be my race and my ethnicity.
Since I was born in Nigeria
before my family migrated
to America, I am a citizen of
both countries. That was what
African American meant to
me. I did not understand why
people who had lived their
entire lives in America but had
dark complexions were also
called African American.
I tried so hard to separate
myself
from
the
Black
community because I knew
the stereotypes that came with
embracing my Blackness. I was
determined to show everyone
that my African heritage was
different. I was firm in my
belief that my complexion did
not
symbolize
oppression,
but rather the richness of my
culture. However, my efforts
felt useless.
I grew increasingly aware
that the first thing people
saw was the color of my skin
and that was all they needed
to categorize me. I was never
given the chance to explain my
African heritage or disprove
the stereotypes. I started to
hate my complexion. I wished
I were lighter or that I could
blend in. I envied light-skin
girls who were praised for their
olive skin tones. It was not until
I sought out why my skin has
its color that I re-learned how
to love my complexion.
I learned that melanin is the
chemical substance responsible
for dark skin. Melanin protects
the
body
from
the
sun’s
harmful radiation. In places
near the equator, like Africa,
where there is more direct
sunlight for longer periods,
more melanin is needed. So my
beautiful, dark skin protects
me. In places like Antarctica,
where there is hardly any direct
sunlight, too much melanin is
dangerous and prevents the
body from absorbing adequate
sunlight. Some radiation from
the sun is needed to help the
body convert substances into
necessary vitamins, so in such
places, people adapted fair
complexions.
Studying
history
showed
me that my ancestors were not
responsible for the negative
connotations that come with
being labeled Black. In fact,
the idea of race was created to
rationalize the oppression of
people with dark complexions.
One drop of Black lineage was
enough to claim someone, no
matter how light their skin
was, as a slave. Fanshen Cox
DiGiovanni, an actor and a
writer, honed into this idea of
“one drop” in her one-woman
multimedia performance, “One
Drop of Love.” She takes her
audience through the history of
the U.S. census to discover the
perception of race over time.
My
anthropology
class
further
emphasized
the
creation of race and defined it
as a social construct. Race was
created to categorize members
of
society
and
vindicate
unequal treatment. Yet, the
negative history of race does
not mean we can ignore it
when claiming our identities.
Analyzing
race
in
Brazil
changed my perception even
more. In Brazil, I learned in
class, race is flexible. Your race
is based on your personality,
your family and how you self-
identify. I thought Brazil’s
notions of race were superior
to America’s, but then I took
yet another look at race.
I learned that public health
acknowledges the importance
of race categories and considers
race to be a social determinant
of
health.
Then
I
started
looking at the statistics. The
facts are unnerving: Blacks face
more adverse health effects
in almost every category. I
was enraged when I found out
that a college-educated, Black
woman of high social class
is three times more likely to
have a preterm birth than an
uneducated,
white
woman.
Then I realized the problem is
so much bigger than how we
self-identify. The fact is, Blacks
are subject to health disparities
before they are even born.
Up until that point, I aspired to
be a physician so I could tackle the
problems sickle cell patients face.
I thought finding a cure would
solve all of their problems. Now I
realize that a cure is not enough. I
have to address the fact that sickle
cell anemia is considered a “Black
disease.” As a minority, I must
tackle the racial disparities that
accompany the disease before I
can focus on a cure.
I realized that my skin, just
like that of many sickle cell
patients,
would
forever
be
perceived as dark and therefore
I would be categorized as Black.
I cannot see my racial typology
negatively, however. I have to
understand and acknowledge
the history of my race. Black is
not just a self-identifier, but a
political identity that has had
systemic
ramifications.
My
choice in identifying as Black
has allowed me to reclaim that
identity on my own terms.
I
finally
came
to
the
conclusion that I am Black and
African American. Accepting
both identities has allowed me
to open myself up to the Black
community. I began to reach
out to the Black communities
on
campus
and
actively
participating in events. I made
it my mission to find a home
for myself within the Black
community
and
convinced
myself that I had finally come
full circle with my perception
of my race.
Attending
DiGiovanni’s
performance
showed
me,
however, that I had still been
trying to distinguish myself
from the community I was
seeking acceptance from. Last
year, I began to call myself a
Nigerian American because I
was sick of explaining what I
meant by African American.
Fanshen’s
show
helped
me
realize what I was doing. Her
performance takes the audience
through her life struggles to find
out what race she belongs to as a
mixed woman. Growing up she
was constantly asked: “what are
you?” The question often made
her feel excluded, but upon
reflection she realized a certain
privilege that comes with being
able to answer that question.
Fanshen made me realize
that I, too, have a certain
privilege
as
an
African
American. Although I belong
to a minority race, I have
the ability to define African
American as it relates to who
I am. I can trace my lineage
back to Nigeria and I know,
without a doubt, that hundreds
of generations of my family
were born in the same nation as
I was. I am privileged that my
family came to America on its
own terms.
We are so often engulfed
by our adversities that we do
not recognize where we have
an advantage. Acknowledging
my fortunes as well as my
hardships
has
helped
me
embrace my identities and
better understand who I am. I
am not merely one thing. I am
a Black, Nigerian, American
woman with sickle cell anemia.
Still, I am much more than that.
I will continue to share my
story no matter how hard it is
in hopes of educating, inspiring
or touching at least one person
because, like Fanshen says, all
it takes is “one drop of love.”
Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Tuesday, January 17, 2017
Finding your partner in the Tinder Era
ZACHARY COX | COLUMN
T
echnology
has
revolutionized the manner
in which people pursue
romantic
and
sexual
partners,
particularly for college
students.
Many
on
campus
choose
to
utilize Tinder, a dating
application that displays
photos of the individual
and a brief description to
a user, who then chooses
whether or not they are
interested. This creates
a unique space, free
of competition from
others, where a person
can privately view prospective
dates or sexual partners without
having to feel the pressure or sense
of competition that exists at parties
or in bars.
However, Tinder also creates
a
space
that
provides
new
opportunities for people to be
objectified and rude, often in a
sexual context. With this new
space comes a new responsibility
for us to extend the same kindness
and polite nature online as we
would in person. Moreover, this
new space, while an excellent
tool
to
generate
face-to-face
interaction, should not entirely
replace the old-fashioned effort of
approaching someone in person.
Face-to-face interaction is the best
way to build interpersonal skills
that will serve us in all areas of life,
be it in the professional context, in
romance or in friendship.
Many
can
relate
to
the
experience of having to compete
to speak to someone whom they
find attractive. Matching with
someone on Tinder allows one to
approach unimpeded by others.
Furthermore, they are able to
rehearse their first line to an
infinite degree. However, it also
takes away the ability to read
the verbal or bodily response
to what is first said, making
the clarity of communication
all the more important. Still,
with the somewhat anonymous
nature of the Tinder interface,
communicative mistakes are not
permanent. That “Hey cutie how
are you doing?” message that you
sent two months ago
to your first match
likely
won’t
follow
you anywhere, though
your first match may
not
have
thought
much of you with such
a message.
Once
you
match
with
someone,
the
next
step
in
the
process is to send the
first message. Regardless
of your end goal, be it a one-night
stand, relationship or something in
between, you must show interest
in a polite manner, steering clear
of commentary that is overtly
sexual in nature. Everyone wants
and deserves respect, so sending a
message detailing what you would
like to “do” with your match right
off the bat may not be the best way
to get your desired response.
You must not drop the chivalry
of the well-mannered man who
holds the door open for others
simply because you are hidden
behind a screen. Look through
the bio of your match and try to
find something interesting, or
something you have in common.
Perhaps you realize you have the
same major or are from the same
town. That may be a better place
to start the conversation, even if
your goal is to end with sex. People
appreciate others who care to get
to know and learn a little bit about
them, even if they aren’t interested
in a long-term relationship.
Once you become skilled at
connecting with people virtually,
doing so in person may become
vastly
less
appealing.
Why
bother to approach that person
at the party when you can invite
the one you matched with on
Tinder? If we depend solely
on pictures and 500-character
descriptions to get to know
people, are we really developing
our interpersonal skills? When
you have a conversation with
someone in person, you can’t
pause and consult the internet
to find information about the
person’s interests to come up with
a subject to talk about, or how to
respond to a remark they make.
For us to be capable of
successfully building stronger
relationships
with
others,
it
is vital that we extend our
vocabulary of words, actions and
emotions beyond the cell phone.
These skills extend beyond the
realm of romance and dating.
In a job interview, you cannot
consult
Google
when
asked
about sales strategy or how you
would approach a management
consulting case. You need to
build your skills in learning how
to respond in real time in an
effective manner.
And
in
the
context
of
relationships,
you
truly
get
to
know
a
person
through
spending physical time with
them, not by studying some of
their interests on a social media
profile. Spending physical time
with people reveals the little
behavioral tendencies and their
peculiarities, such as the way
they set a table to eat or how they
fold laundry. These are not things
that you can learn by perusing
what they’ve liked on Facebook.
While we may have our own
personal motives for approaching
people, be it friendship, romance
or sex, it is unlikely we will
have this desire reciprocated
by the other person if we do not
demonstrate a genuine interest
in them. When you find yourself
at a party or bar and see someone
you would like to talk to, do
it. Don’t hesitate and don’t be
afraid. If you fail, it is unlikely
that
you’ll
be
remembered.
You have nothing to lose, and
everything to gain.
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
Samantha Goldstein
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
Zachary Cox can be reached at
coxz@umich.edu.
ZACHARY
COX
The Hollywood soapbox
ANU ROY-CHAUDHURY | COLUMN
Anu Roy-Chaudhury can be reached
at anuroy@umich.edu.
ANU ROY-
CHAUDHURY
— Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. speaking about the Vietnam War in
New York City on April 4th, 1967.
“
NOTABLE QUOTABLE
The world now demands a
maturity of America that we may
not be able to achieve. ”
What is Race?
MICHIGAN IN COLOR
Halimat Olaniyan is a Michigan in
Color Senior Editor. Michigan in Color
is a section of The Michigan Daily by
and for people of color.