5
OPINION

Thursday, May 25, 2017

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

T 

he night of November 9, 
2016, Van Jones turned 
to the CNN cameras in 

the studio and remarked, “This 
[election] was a whitelash against 
a changing country.” After staring 
at the screen, I too was taken aback 
by the result. My perspective on 
the state of our country had been 
shattered, and I knew I wasn’t the 
only one. After the next few days, 
I remember hearing and reading 
about the abuse against Muslims, 
African-Americans, 
Asians, 

women, and so many people. 
Among all of this (continued) 
chaos, I would still come back to my 
apartment and look in the mirror, 
and see a white male staring back. 
It reminded me that I have never 
been approached on the sidewalk 
and had a racial slur thrown at me, 
nor have I been sexually assaulted. 
The lack of these acts, without one 
doubt, is due mostly because I am 
a white male. I am at a significant 
advantage. Nevertheless, when 
reading, listening and discussing 
the 
racial 
and 
ethnic 
issues 

stemming from the election, I have 
been asking myself, “Is a white man 
allowed to have a valid opinion on 
racial or gender relations?”

There is no doubt in my mind 

that I am privileged. How do 
I know? I rarely think about 
my race or my gender, and it is 
only in certain contexts where 
I am forced to reckon with my 
position. In my introspection, 
I realize there are two types 
of white men on the “privilege 
spectrum:” those who have no 
regard for their privilege, and 
those who often apologize for 
or demean themselves because 
of their privilege. I realize that 
the personal white shaming, 
especially on our own college 
campuses, is rather prevalent 
and overblown. Although there 
is no doubt that the white man 
is the most privileged gender 
and race in western history, 
I have struggled to recognize 
what is appropriate to say as a 
white man on our campus. To 

gain approval from my peers 
who are minorities, do I not 
speak about the things sexist and 
racial oppression I observe? Do 
I downplay my “whiteness” and 
“masculinity?” If I say something 
not in line with the identity 
politics today, am I a sexist or 
racist?

As 
stated 
previously, 
I 

understand I am privileged, and 
I am reminded when I work with 
refugees and hear news about 
the oppression of women and 
minorities. Nonetheless, I feel 
that because of my lack of personal 

experience 
with 
racism 
and 

sexism as a victim, my opinions 
from observation are viewed as 
unjustified. Whenever I voice an 
opinion about race relations in 
class, there seems to be a massive 
asterisk saying, “Here is a white 
male.” For example, I recently 
participated in a class for my 
race and ethnicity requirement. 
I appreciated that my discussion 
section was diverse and included 
many 
unique 
perspectives; 

however, 
whenever 
I 
spoke 

about race relations, there was 
this “asterisk.” My peers and my 
GSI told me that I “really didn’t 
understand,” and in turn, I was 
seemingly ignored by my GSI 
when I raised my hand. For me, 
this was somewhat concerning. I 
had “checked” my privilege, and I 
wasn’t about to downplay for my 
“whiteness” or “maleness” to gain 
support from my class. While I am 
a white male, I have tried to listen 
to minorities, but can I voice my 

perspective on what I’ve learned 
from their experiences?

When 
I 
read 
about 
the 

frustrations 
of 
many 
people 

with 
“political 
correctness 

culture” on college campuses, I 
think we are encroaching on a 
dangerous balance. Our college 
generation 
is 
more 
inclusive 

than any generation previously, 
and many people from white 
backgrounds 
understand 
their 

privilege and work to help race 
relations. Nevertheless, as John 
McWhorter, an African-American 
contributor to CNN, wrote, white 
people in PC culture are expected 
to “endlessly apologize,” and “they 
feel damned if they do, damned if 
they don’t.” As a white man, I am 
unsure if having immense “white 
guilt” and being quiet about race 
relations is constituted as being 
moral. For myself, I believe it 
is important to have education 
and historical awareness of the 
oppression of many minorities 
faced and continue to endure 
in this country. However, I am 
not sure if removing all people, 
regardless of skin tone or gender, 
helps continue the discussion.

People 
from 
all 
different 

backgrounds, regardless of gender 
or race should never stop fighting 
the 
racism 
that 
still 
exists. 

Nevertheless, if we want to be 
a wholly inclusive society, that 
means we need to listen to people 
from all different races, genders, 
and religions. The “asterisk” will 
always exist for me, but I hope 
that the intentions to improve race 
and gender relations of a white 
male are perceived with more 
value than the color of his skin or 
the gender to which he belongs. 
How can we as white men listen 
more to minorities but not shame 
ourselves for our identity? How do 
we voice our opinions? 

—David Kamper can be reached 

at dgkamper@umich.edu.

My asterisk
Assessing Jeff Sessions’ drug policy
A

nn Arbor is a city defined by 
its university, football, food 
and great culture. Locals 

and students will quickly praise 
and boast these features; however, 
a huge part of Ann Arbor less likely 
to headline brochures has been its 
progressive stance and cultural 
acceptance of marijuana. In fact, 
just this past April, Ann Arbor 
hosted its 46th annual Hash Bash, a 
clear celebration of marijuana.

Additionally, the city was at the 

forefront of medical marijuana 
legalization, making an initiative in 
2004, four years prior to the state of 
Michigan as a whole in 2008. The 
city has been progressive in its drug 
policy, and now more than ever it is 
critical that the city continues to be.

On May 12, Attorney General 

Jeff Sessions issued a memo that 
instructs federal prosecutors to 
pursue the harshest sentences 
on 
drug-related 
crimes. 
This 

effectively 
works 
to 
reverse 

Obama-era 
policies 
looking 
to 

mitigate punishments for low-
level, 
nonviolent 
drug 
crimes. 

Instead of prosecutors avoiding 
charging defendants for offenses 
that trigger mandatory minimum 
sentences, prosecutors will now 
have to seek the strongest charges 
possible for the crime. This will 
inevitably 
increase 
mandatory 

minimum 
sentencing 
and 
add 

nonviolent 
offenders 
to 
our 

already 
overcrowded 
prisons. 

Mandatory minimums require that 
specific offenses have inflexible 
prison terms. This is infamously 
problematic because it not only 
requires drug offenders to serve 
needlessly long sentences, but also 
more severely punishes drugs that 
traditionally target the lower-class. 
This is exemplified through the 
disparity between crack cocaine 
and powder cocaine: it requires 
eighteen times as much powder 
cocaine as crack cocaine to receive 
the same mandatory minimum 
term. This is only the beginning 
of stronger stances against crime 
from this administration. Sessions 
is undoing Obama’s progress on 
drug policy by reverting to laws 
set in place by Congress years ago. 
This is a memo aimed to rejuvenate 
the War on Drugs — a war slowed 
significantly by Obama’s policies.

This being said, now is not the 

time to rejuvenate the War on 
Drugs. Crime rates are near an all-
time low, and even recent increases 
in violent crimes in cities like 
Chicago are not solved through 
tougher drug policies. However, the 

U.S. prison population remains the 
largest in the world, and 52 percent 
of federally-sentenced offenders 
were drug-related in 2012. This 
doesn’t even touch on the many who 
are not incarcerated but harassed 
and even arrested by police over 
drug possession, such as the man 
raided and arrested over a gram 
and a half of marijuana in Richland 
County, S.C., as documented in the 
film “Do Not Resist.”

The War on Drugs was and will 

continue to be an ineffective way 
to combat the drug problem in our 
country. It needlessly increased 
the incarcerated population while 
not taking any aims to rehabilitate 
users or remedy the poverty 
that 
births 
drug 
trafficking. 

Additionally, there is plenty of 
research published that shows that 
it has disproportionately affected 
minorities in America. One in 
three Black men ages 20 to 29 
are incarcerated, and mandatory 
minimums on drug possession and 
trafficking will not help improve 
those numbers.

If you don’t believe the statistics 

that prove it, the fact that Ann 
Arbor residents and students at the 
prestigious University of Michigan 
can participate in a Hash Bash 
— glorifying the consumption of 
marijuana — without consequence, 
while Black South Carolinians 
are raided by police teams over 
marijuana proves there is a level of 
privilege in the matter.

Now that our Attorney General 

is reinforcing antiquated federal 
laws on drug punishment, it is 
important that cities and states 
pass initiatives to make more 
sensible drug policies. Supporting 
organizations such as the Drug 
Policy Alliance is critical to those 
initiatives. And when the state 
of Michigan proposes marijuana 
legalization in 2018, I urge those 
who can to vote in favor. It is only 
a step to more comprehensive 
drug policy reform but a huge one 
nonetheless.

Residents of Ann Arbor have 

benefited from lenient marijuana 
laws and have had the privilege of 
celebrating a Hash Bash festival 
free from penalty while much of 
the nation cannot. It is the duty of 
those of us with the freedom from 
draconian drug policy to support 
progress for those without that 
privilege.

— Brennan Pope can be reached 

at popeb@umich.edu.

BRENNAN POPE| COLUMN
DAVID KAMPER| COLUMN

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I have struggled to 
recognize what is 
appropriate to say 
as a white man on 

campus

