L
ast week, I was walking
to class when I scrolled
past a picture of Hillary
Clinton on Twitter. I suddenly
remembered
the
period
of
hopefulness
and
confidence
before
the
election
that
was
so
prevalent
among
my
peers
and on social media.
The realization of
how different things
would be had she
won the election hit
me hard, and I was
struck by the intense difference
in pervading mood between
then and now.
Hopefulness
tainted
my
every move, from my posts on
Facebook to my interactions
with students and discussions
with friends. I was naively
optimistic, making jokes about
what life would be like in Donald
Trump’s America. Got a C on an
exam? Hey, it could be worse, we
could have a divisive reality star
in charge of the nuclear codes!
And so on, and so forth.
Before
the
election,
individual political
concerns
were purely personal, while
after the election, many feel
they have a moral obligation
to speak or act politically. It
certainly
seems
as
though
moral and personal priorities
have shifted significantly since
the new administration was
inaugurated. Yet, how have fear
and hope influenced the mood
and emotions we experience
now? How do we move forward
using what little power we
have to influence politics in the
future and make change?
Interestingly,
hope
and
fear were tied deeply into
both campaigns of the most
recent political season. Hillary
undoubtedly played off the
fear of Trump, and many who
voted for her voted not out of
hope for the change she would
bring, but rather out of the fear
of a Trump presidency.
After
the
election,
an
informal
campaign
began
reminding people to keep in
mind that this presidency is not
normal. Many predicted that,
as time went on, the bigotry
and hate expressed by Trump
would begin to feel like familiar
rhetoric. The importance of
remaining vigilant was stressed.
It seems that the hatefulness
of his rhetoric and
policy has not been
lost yet on people,
and he’s not become
a normal politician in
their eyes.
Many
have
accepted that Trump
is the president, as
painful as it may
be for some to say
aloud. But instead of
letting their guard
down
and
relaxing,
many
have remained skeptical and
vigilant. Fear is not a great
motivator to act, though it does
inspire values of personal safety
and protection, of watchfulness
and wariness.
Instead of accommodating
their identities to his presidency,
many have accommodated his
presidency to their identities.
Many
identify
themselves
through
his
presidency,
voluntarily or not. Instead of
preparing themselves for the
chaos of the next four years by
ignoring the news and avoiding
politics, they’ve chosen instead
to
hold
the
administration
accountable, to remind each
other that this is not normal.
It was widely discussed at the
time of the election that Trump’s
successful campaign ran on fear
alone. The campaign fed off
the worries and qualms of the
people who felt themselves to
be disenfranchised, forgotten.
Yet I don’t believe their fear
took them to their polling place
last November; I believe it was
their hope. They hoped for a
country in which they felt they
could prosper, and Trump’s
campaign
slogan,
“Make
America Great Again,” was
appealingly hopeful.
Hope, unlike fear, motivates
people greatly. In 2008, the
“Hope” poster came to be
a
major
aspect
of
former
President
Barack
Obama’s
campaign,
which
was
ultimately
successful.
Since
the 2016 election, new social
justice student groups, like
Progressives at University of
Michigan, have popped up
on campus, and others, like
Students4Justice, have become
more
active.
These
groups
seek to inspire and encourage
greater
individual
political
change. While for many the
Trump presidency is far less
than ideal, the sense of hope
for change has not disappeared
entirely. Fear may drive many to
hold Trump accountable for his
actions during his presidency,
but hope will elect the future
leaders of our country. If there’s
anything we learned from this
election, it’s of the slow and
steady power of hope to lift a
campaign and push individuals
into positions of power.
If this tactic is recognized
and utilized, the outcome of the
next few elections will reflect
this. The recent Women’s March
(on Washington and around the
globe) empirically exemplifies
the power of collective hope. Yet
hope doesn’t have to take its form
in the gathering of hundreds of
thousands of protesters. Hope
can
also
be
individualistic,
familial, a partnership; hope
takes infinitely many forms.
As clichéd and outdated as
the hope and fear dichotomy
may be, it is nonetheless evident
that these themes permeate
U.S. politics. Hopefulness in
the wake of fear may seem
unlikely, but while fear spreads,
hope grows. Strip yourself of
cynicism, but remain vigilant.
Be hopeful, but take care not
to cross into naivety. When left
unchecked
and
unbalanced,
fear controls. Yet, when fear
is controlled, the passion and
energy inspired by it can be
channeled
into
something
productive. Hope and fear may
walk along different paths, but
that’s not to say they can’t work
in tandem.
Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Friday, March 24, 2017
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
Samantha Goldstein
Caitlin Heenan
Ibrahim Ijaz
Jeremy Kaplan
Sarah Khan
Max Lubell
Alexis Megdanoff
Madeline Nowicki
Anna Polumbo-Levy
Jason Rowland
Ali Safawi
Kevin Sweitzer
Rebecca Tarnopol
Stephanie Trierweiler
EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS
Hope, fear and political motivation
Megan Burns can be reached at
megburns@umich.edu.
“Y
ou can’t put sleep on
a resume.”
I had a visceral,
almost dejected, reaction to this
statement by a student because it
keenly nailed why a majority of
University of Michigan students
don’t
prioritize
sleep.
As
a
health educator with Wolverine
Wellness at University Health
Service, I am often asked to talk
about sleep and well-being in
the college environment. I love
talking about sleep. And what I’m
finding out is that students love
talking about it, too.
Why?
For one, it’s an area of student
well-being that tends to be less
controversial than some of the
other topics we frequently discuss
with college students, including
substance use, body image and
sexual health. Sleep is a more
benign topic, generally. However,
sleep is not completely absent of
stigma, as some may view those
who nap as lazy or less motivated.
In
my
experience,
most
students love to sleep. Most
students want to sleep more,
and
they
understand
the
downfalls of lack of sleep.
When I ask students about
the negative consequences of
sleep
deprivation,
they
can
easily rattle off the following:
moodiness,
headaches,
increased anxiety, drowsiness
and decreased focus to even
more concerning complications,
like heart palpitations, lowered
immune response and overuse
of stimulants.
One morning, I had a student
in my office comment, “Sleep
deprivation is an affirmation
of busyness.” This makes sense
in a competitive culture where
“busy” is often worn as a badge
of honor. Somehow busyness
and
sleep
deprivation
have
become untenably entangled
with success.
Students often say there’s just
not enough time to sleep. They
relay feelings of guilt — sometimes
self-inflicted, sometimes cultural
— when tempted to sleep more,
figuring they could be using
their time “better” by working
harder, doing more, being more.
And what is the unanticipated
cost? According to 2016 National
College
Health
Assessment
data, 73 percent of University of
Michigan students (75 percent
of undergraduate students, 68
percent of graduate students) did
not sleep enough to feel rested for
more than five days per week.
I believe this is an unintended
consequence of the “Leaders and
the Best” mentality. And I wonder
if we can start to challenge it a
bit. What if students could find
a way to integrate sleep a little
bit more as part of their overall
well-being, in varying ways?
What if there is a way to have it
all, instead of the myth that you
have to pick two: academics,
social life or sleep? Sleep is
connected to so many other
dimensions of well-being, and a
slight positive shift in one area
can have a direct effect on other
areas. For starters, improving
the quality and quantity of sleep,
and discouraging the use of sleep
medication, is an effective, simple
and cheap method of raising
health and well-being.
One way to increase sleep
for chronically sleep-deprived
individuals is a nap. A short
nap (think power nap!) has the
potential to increase energy,
alertness and improve mental
performance. One study showed
that a six-minute nap increased
memorization by 11 percent!
Yet, it’s not that simple. Some of
the barriers to napping are being
away from a bed most of the day,
accidentally turning a power nap
into a three-hour sleep session
and
concerns
that
napping
may signal laziness. Increasing
students’ sleep and restfulness
in practical ways is a complex
problem, and I invite us all to
dialogue more about it. While it
may seem that students can’t put
sleep on a resume, perhaps well-
being is reflected on one’s resume
more than we think. How can
students prioritize sleep so that
they can be more productive and
well overall?
How can we begin to shift
the culture of well-being at the
University? Let’s start with sleep.
Check out the University Health
Service sleep page for more
tips and techniques to improve
sleep, and to take an online sleep
assessment to learn more about
your sleep personality profile.
Why sleep matters
JOY PEHLKE | OP-ED
Joy Pehlke is a health educator at
Wolverine Wellness.
MEGAN BURNS | COLUMN
Y
ou didn’t have to follow
the
Students4Justice
sit-in or listen to LSA
junior Evan Rosen, who ran
for Central Student
Government president
with the Movement
party,
completely
dismiss people who
were
offended
by
his
controversial
campaign
video
to
know
that
this
campus has a problem
when
it
comes
to
empathizing
with
students of color. Both
deliberately
and
unknowingly
pushing marginalized students
further into the periphery is a
theme that runs deep among the
University of Michigan’s cautious
administration and 65 percent
white population. It was therefore
not surprising when this theme
manifested itself more recently
in an unlikely place: a collegiate
meme page.
I was lucky (or maybe unlucky)
enough to witness the chaos
firsthand. Some context: Last
month, I received a message from
my friend, who had created a page
called “UMich Memes for Edgy
Teens” (inspired by the smash-
hit, “UC Berkeley Memes for Edgy
Teens”). He asked me to moderate
it and, reluctantly, I agreed.
The content started slow — a
Diag squirrel meme here, a post
about Canvas there. Students
poked fun at Greek life, dining hall
food and their own binge-drinking
habits. For a week or so, it was
a tight-knit community of close
friends and acquaintances bonding
over shared experiences. It served
primarily as a place to laugh, vent
and seek validation from peers.
Then it started to pick up. Soon,
I was receiving requests to join
every five minutes, and I even
noticed students browsing the
page in lecture and tagging each
other in posts. The content was
evolving as well, from broad and
simple to niche and creative. My
friend had seemingly developed
quite the phenomenon, and the
group was on a trajectory to
grow exponentially — until out
of nowhere, just weeks after its
inception, the page crashed and
burned with greater intensity
than it began.
The conflict arose when some
members began posting memes
about
University
President
Mark Schlissel — some of which
appropriated African
American Vernacular
English
—
that
glorified him in a
way that made me a
little uneasy. While
there did not appear
to be any malicious
intent,
students
of
color on the page were
uncomfortable
with
their fellow students
jokingly
praising
someone they felt had failed to
advocate on their behalf time
and time again. It appeared as
though their concerns were being
trivialized. The tension reached
a breaking point when those
students spoke up about their
frustration in a post and were met
with resistance — specifically, over
100 comments of resistance.
Frankly, it was cringe-worthy
and alarming to watch people
who were supposedly just there to
have fun get so worked up when
confronted with the possibility
that their definition of fun was
exclusive and even offensive. Even
the more nuanced and sensitive
arguments
of
the
opposition
seemed to admonish people they
felt were ruining the lighthearted
nature of the page.
As students continued to make
exasperated pleas for the memes
to stop, some members were quick
to comply (one tried to divert the
attention to another University
icon: the Cube), while others
were not so willing to bury the
hatchet. Meanwhile, moderators
(myself included) were in a frenzy,
debating whether or not to archive
the page in a private group chat.
We worried that there were only
a few of us and too many members
to moderate properly. After all, we
weren’t really edgy teens; we were
sensitive adults, at best.
The group folded in on itself
because most of the members
who clashed with students of
color on the page did not seem to
grasp the notion that they were
actively contributing to a system
of oppression that reaches so
far beyond the realm of comedy.
What they did not understand
is, in cases such as this, the “fun”
we are having is at the expense
of marginalized groups, and it is
rooted in our ability to poke fun at
things that they understandably
cannot dissociate from enough to
find humorous.
To some, a meme glorifying
the president of the University
may have been hilarious, but to
others, it is a reminder of their
constant struggle to be heard by
an administration that doesn’t
always prioritize their safety and
inclusion. The conflict on the page
could be chalked up to people
refusing to sacrifice their sense
of humor for other people’s well-
beings — the conflict on campus
more broadly can be chalked up to
people refusing to inconvenience
themselves for the sake of helping
people of color feel comfortable
and secure at their own school.
Eventually,
the
mod
team
decided to delete the group
following the conflict. From the
page came two main offshoots:
“UMich
Memes
For
Edgy
Teens
who
are
ACTUALLY
Edgy” (a group that claims in its
description that it is “not a safe
space”) and “Now THAT’S What
I Call ‘Edgy Memes for UMich
Teens’ VOLUME 2.” The former
continues to post Schlissel memes,
while the latter has banned them.
Obviously,
something
as
trivial as a meme page doesn’t
really matter in the big picture.
However, the more I analyze the
situation, the more I realize that
the implosion of “UMich Memes
for Edgy Teens” is representative
of students more broadly brushing
off the very real concerns raised
by people of color because they
“ruin the fun” or “take things
too seriously.” When you don’t
suffer at the hands of pervasive
systems of oppression every day,
of course you find it easier to
turn those systems or symbols
of those systems into something
humorous. It’s easy to separate
yourself from that thing, to laugh at
it. However, not everyone has that
luxury. To listen and empathize
with those who may feel excluded
or offended by your humor is not a
buzzkill: It’s just a decent thing to
do. Go back to posting about Diag
squirrels, please.
Death of a meme page
LAUREN SCHANDEVEL | COLUMN
Lauren Schandevel can be reached
at schandla@umich.edu.
MEGAN
BURNS
Hope, unlike
fear, motivates
people greatly.
LAUREN
SCHANDEVEL
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