By TYLER SCOTT

Columnist 2015

It’s all but impossible to 

calculate the finite value of 
an education. At my middle-
class high school in Michigan, 
one of the biggest pitches that 
teachers and administrators 
made to try and convince more 
of my peers to attend college 
relied purely on economics.

“College grads make more,” 

they said.

While that may typically be 

true, the fluctuating economy 
and subsequent job market 
doesn’t make attending a four-
year university a sure bet. 
Laying thousands of dollars on 
the table just to get a job can 
even seem paradoxical. Borrow 
money to pay for school, get a 
job, profit. Then pay the money 
back.

But universities shouldn’t 

be seen as manufacturers of 
employees. Students shouldn’t 
look back after graduation 
and weigh the cost of a college 
against the job prospects they 
were able to line up by their 
first month as an alum.

Education benefits society 

as a whole. No one’s chances 
of finding a job would improve 
if everyone in America held a 
bachelor’s degree, but the way 
our country would operate 
culturally 
and 
politically 

would transform and for the 
better.

For 
example, 
Pamela 

Brandwein, a political science 
professor here at the University, 
wrote a book on reinterpreting 
Reconstruction-era 
politics 

and history after the Civil War. 
Some of her work has been 
especially relevant this year.

After the Charleston church 

shooting in June, the nation 
entered a discussion about 
the Confederate flag. South 
Carolina lawmakers, and the 
nation, 
debated 
the 
flag’s 

meaning; one side claiming it as 
a symbol of Southern heritage, 
while 
others 
passionately 

bemoaned against the state’s 
use of a flag that stood for a 
nation founded upon acute 
racism and slavery.

In a resoundingly American 

fashion, we couldn’t even agree 
on what the ol’ stars and bars 
represent. The Civil War has 
been over for nearly one and a 

half centuries, but we haven’t 
been able to reach a consensus 
on what it was about. 

I remember being taught 

(shout 
out 
public 
school) 

that the Civil War was about 
slavery. I also remember being 
taught that this was too simple 
of a summation, that slavery 
was the big issue, but really 
state’s rights were what was on 
the line for the Confederacy.

And then I entered Brandwein’s 

class, and I re-learned two 
things. 
First, 
yes 
the 
Civil 

War was indeed fought over 
slavery, period. The prevailing 
sentiment in the South was that 
slavery was an institution of the 
utmost importance because the 
unlimited source of free labor was 
supposed to be the cornerstone 
upon which a Southern utopia 
(for white folks) was built.

Secondly, political forces have 

the power to reshape history and 
affect our cultural understanding 
of it for decades and generations 
to come. After the Civil War, the 
loudest and most boisterous pro-
slavery guys recognized a sinking 
ship when they were standing on 
it and began the line of rhetoric 
about states’ rights as the cause 
for 
the 
war. 
Unfortunately, 

they were successful, and this 
incorrect 
interpretation 
of 

history still exists around high 
school classrooms and water 
coolers today.

Thanks, professor, for clearing 

that up.

Brandwein 
isn’t 
the 
first 

scholar, historian or journalist to 
pin down the truth about slavery 
and the Civil War. But in the 
public, we still see its significance 
as something that’s up for debate. 
To drive a point home, anyone 
who believes the Civil War wasn’t 
a war about slavery is wrong. But 
the truth, though made relatively 
accessible 
to 
undergraduates 

here and at other universities, 
isn’t as easy to come across in the 
real world.

Society 
has 
entered 
full-

force into the information age, 
and everyone is surrounded by 
accessible data. While there’s a 
lot of good that comes from this, 
there are now more channels 
than ever to launch a marketing 
campaign to sway public opinion. 
The ability of self-interested 
actors to control what story gets 
told in the newspapers and on TV 
has made it incredibly difficult to 

find out what is really going on.

Pick an issue: Black Lives 

Matter, Occupy Wall Street, 
Detroit’s bankruptcy — it doesn’t 
matter. Each person and each 
news 
outlet 
frames 
things 

differently. And there have been 
countless cases where powerful 
people have lied to the public 
with their own motives in mind. 

“I am not a crook,” said 

Richard Nixon.

Even with the brightest minds 

examining an event, like with 
the Civil War example, lies 
and political spin can slip past 
American common sense and 
become, for better or, more often, 
worse, part of what we accept as 
fact. We then carry on with an 
incorrect understanding of what 
is true and what happened.

Knowing this, the high volume 

of lies and political pandering 
should 
cause 
anyone 
from 

Portland, Maine, to Portland, 
Ore., to think more critically 
about 
the 
information 
they 

consume.

In an educated society, we 

would all have the skills to at 
least do this. Making more 
people college graduates benefits 
the greater good. A college 
education exposes each person to 
perspectives, ideas and concepts 
they otherwise may not have 
stumbled upon. Students absorb 
all of this information and take 
it with them to parties, coffee 
shops and, eventually, society in 
some form or another.

In a time where privilege is 

defined by access to opportunity, 
being educated turns over a blank 
page for new ideas and ways of 
thinking. If more people had 
access to education, it could aid 
in turning the echo chamber of 
social media unoriginality, bias 
and uninformed public opinion 
into something more symphonic. 
And 
more 
importantly, 
it 

undercuts 
the 
ability 
of 

politicians and billionaires to 
sell their own versions of history 
and manipulate the masses into 
acting or believing certain ways.

Above all else, receiving an 

education may not get you a 
job, but it can provide some 
direction amid all the chaos and 
half the production of lemmings 
(the video game people, not the 
animals). Because as the late, 
great Yogi Berra said, “If you 
don’t know where you are going, 
you’ll wind up someplace else.”

By SUNDAI JOHNSON

MiC Contributor 2014

This 
piece 
was 
originally 

posted on Facebook in reaction 
to the grand jury’s decision that 
Ferguson police officer Darren 
Wilson would not be indicted in 
the death of teenager Michael 
Brown. It has since been revised 
for publication in The Michigan 
Daily.

I am usually not one to use 

Facebook as a platform to 
share my own voice. I might 
repost things I find funny or 
exciting, artistic and beautiful, 
reassuring. Repost about issues 
that are relevant and important 
that reflect my thinking and 
beliefs, but when it comes to 
my own voice on this particular 
platform, I have been silent.

But tonight, on this grave 

night, when my hands and 

heart tremble, there is no other 
time that might merit a greater 
reason to speak out than this.

We all know what happened 

months ago. We all know what 
happened tonight. We are all 
reacting in some capacity.

I’m thankful for the voices 

that resonate with my own, the 
words I can snap to. It reminds 
me that I am not alone, that we 
are not alone. That we matter.

And while I am hurt and 

angered by those voices that are 
dead set that this man is innocent, 
that this circumstance is not 
about race, these arguments are 
irrelevant to the matter and not 
only is there no room to discuss 
this, there is negative room to 
discuss this. 

Then there are those who 

believe they are not reacting at 
all. Those who have the power 
and privilege to look away. I 

would just like to say that your 
passivity might be the biggest 
reaction of them all. Neutrality is 
the greatest threat to a world that 
might one day be just and free 
to all. This silence perpetuates a 

system in which accountability 
and 
responsibility 
are 
not 

required and tells those who 
believe that this is anything less 
than a tragedy that they are right.

There is no more room for 

passivity 
and 
complacency. 

There is no ‘neutral’ where 
human rights are concerned, only 
responsibility. 

This is not the time to police 

and criticize the reactions of a 
people beaten and broken down 
by a system in a country and 
society built on their backs and 
their blood. And please spare me 
arguments about how slavery 
is irrelevant. The institution 
of 
slavery 
helped 
create 
a 

system where Black bodies are 
seen as subhuman and where 
unlawful Black death is justified, 
rewarded and upheld socially, 
institutionally and politically. 
This is the mess slavery — and 
the violent distorted thinking 
and bloody actions that produced 
it — made. We’ll stop talking 
about it when its residual effects 
are cleaned up.

Tonight I am ill with sadness 

and trauma. I believed that 
maybe we might have made it 
a little farther than we’d come 
before.

I am pained to admit that I 

was sorely mistaken and am 
now perplexed by this massive 
question of where we go from 
here. What do we do now?

I may — we may — have been 

wrong in thinking our justice 
system would move away from 
its haunting history and surprise 
us with hope for the future, but 
I believe I am right about one 
thing: This time is different. The 
difference not being in a system 
that consistently fails us — but 
the difference being in a people 
tired of being failed. We have 
changed; we are the difference; 
we have the power to be the 
change. 

This cannot be put to bed. 

They wanted us to forget but 

we cannot allow them to bury 
us, to bury this. We must keep 
organizing, 
keep 
speaking, 

yelling, screaming, until we are 
heard. 
Marching, 
stomping, 

pounding, shaking the ground 
until the system has no choice 
but to break.

And by we I mean all. This is 

not a Black issue; this is a human 
issue, as all violations of human 
rights are. We did not enslave 
ourselves. We need just as many 
bodies that helped get us here to 
help us get free.

I live by this always and I will 

say it a dozen times over:

“The only way to deal with 

an unfree world is to become so 
absolutely free that your very 
existence is an act of rebellion” —
Albert Camus

I will be a rebellion. I will be 

a revolution.

I hope y’all will join me.

The value of an education

Letter to the revolutionaries

Saturday, April 29, 2017 — 5
Opinion & Arts

Michigan in Color

michigandaily.com — The Michigan Daily 

BOOKS

‘Cooking for Jeffery:’ An 
iconic American love story 

By KATHLEEN DAVIS

Managing Arts Editor 2016

Ina Garten is a powerhouse.
When the Food Network 

train 
hit 
new 
heights 
of 

popularity in the mid-aughts, 
Garten reached a new level of 
celebrity status attained by 
only a few other chefs on the 
network. 
Her 
long-running 

series, 
“Barefoot 
Contessa,” 

has been on air since 2002, 
making it one of the longest 
running series on the network.

In each episode, Garten is 

effortlessly charming as she 
cooks a meal for a special guest 
— be it friends, a celebrity or 
her longtime husband, Jeffrey. 
Ina and Jeffrey’s relationship 
has reached an almost cult 
status, as the pair (who have 
been married since 1968) have 
a chemistry that would make 
any cynic a believer in true 
love. When so many marriages 
end in divorce these days, 
how can we not rally around a 
couple who has made it work 
for almost 50 years?

It was no surprise, then, 

that Garten’s 10th cookbook, 
released last month, is titled 
“Cooking for Jeffrey.” The 
glossy hardcover is two parts 
cookbook, one part love story. 
The introduction traces the 
history of Garten’s relationship 
with 
cooking 
and 
her 

relationship with Jeffrey. The 
two things are inextricably 
interconnected, Garten says. 
According to her, Jeffrey was 
the one who encouraged her 
to work in the food industry 
and pursue her dreams in the 
public sphere.

Jeffrey is no stranger to 

attaining lofty goals himself; 
he’s Dean Emeritus at the Yale 
School of Management, and has 
worked in several presidential 
administrations. Not to be 
outdone 
by 
her 
husband, 

Garten 
has 
an 
extremely 

impressive resume from before 
her venture into the food world. 
She worked in the White House 
during the Ford and Carter 
administrations writing policy 
papers on nuclear energy. In 
the words of Garten herself, 
“how great is that?”

On first glance, I joked to 

my friends that the title of 
the cookbook seemed bad for 
feminism. 
I 
never 
thought 

badly about Ina for it — 
Garten is old enough to be my 
grandmother, and I am well 
aware of how gender roles 
have shifted since she was 
in college. However, I was 
surprised to see her actually 
tackle the topic of feminism in 
her introduction: “I often say 
[Jeffrey] was the first feminist 
I ever knew; he believed that I 
could do anything I wanted to 
do.”

The 
couple’s 
mutually 

beneficial 
relationship 
is 

highlighted several times in 
“Cooking for Jeffrey.” It’s one 
thing to see their relationship 
on television, where Ina is 
queen of the kitchen and 
Jeffrey seems happy just to 
be on the receiving end of her 
production. It’s a completely 
different thing to read Garten’s 
heartfelt gratitude for finding 
a relationship that allows both 
people to follow their goals 
while loving each other deeply.

While 
flipping 
through 

“Cooking with Jeffrey,” I was 
fascinated that not only did 
every recipe sound delicious, 
but 
they 
all 
looked 
like 

something I, an amateur home 
cook, could whip up without 
too much trouble. One of the 
reasons Ina Garten has become 
a Food Network icon is her 
penchant for simple meals 
that require ingredients you 
probably have in your fridge. 
While there are recipes that 
require a thoughtfully planned 
grocery run (“Fried Oysters 
with Lemon Saffron Aioli,” for 
instance), most of the recipes 
are 
something 
you 
could 

easily make with a few hours 
notice. In Ina’s recount of her 
culinary history, she explains 
that she finds the best meals 
are often the simplest, coming 
from perfected classic recipes. 
This explains the prevalence 
of meals with humble names 
like 
“Roast 
Chicken 
with 

Radishes,” 
“Parmeasan 

Roasted 
Zucchini,” 
and 

“Roasted Italian Meatballs.”

For a television personality, 

Garten has done a wonderful 

job making her audience feel 
like they share an intimate 
connection with her. Skimming 
through the blurbs written at 
the top of each recipe, I found 
myself reading some of her 
iconic phrases in her voice, 
like I was watching the recipe 
unfold on her show (“How 
smart is that?”). It’s hard to 
tell if you want her to be your 
grandmother, or your mother, 
or your Hampton neighbor. 
But the overwhelming reaction 
is that her fans do want her 
in their life in some capacity 
becauseshe seems like such a 
fun and friendly person. Her 
voice translates nicely from 
“Barefoot Contessa” to her 
cookbooks, a hard-to-achieve 
skill that has certainly been 
perfected from years in the 
business.

Sitting down with “Cooking 

for Jeffrey” is the reading 
equivalent of curling up in 
a blanket next to a fire — 
the warmth Ina has for her 
husband and her love for 
cooking 
radiates 
off 
every 

page. Even for the biggest 
skeptic, there is something 
beautiful about hearing how 
two people fell (and stayed) 
in love. “Cooking for Jeffrey” 
not only offers a glimpse into 
the first few years of Ina and 
Jeffrey’s relationship, but you 
can rest easy knowing the story 
has a happy ending almost five 
decades later.

As Garten reminds us in her 

“Planning a Party” chapter, 
food is no fun unless you’re 
sharing it with the people you 
love, be it friends, family or 
Jeffrey. Cooking for others 
is a selfless act that can be 
deeply 
personal, 
and 
the 

ritual of sharing a meal is only 
productive if we’re building 
on our relationship with that 
person through conversation 
and 
laughter. 
Though 

especially important in this 
political climate, this lesson is 
something that each and every 
one of us should hold deeply. 
Besides, if we learn anything 
about sustaining a marriage 
from 
Ina 
and 
Jeffrey’s 

relationship, 
it’s 
undeniable 

that sharing lots of delicious 
meals has only helped.

There is no ‘neutral’ 
where human rights 
are concerned, only 

responsibility. 

PHOTO COURTESY OF TYRELL COLLIER

