Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A— Wednesday, September 13, 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.

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

Carolyn Ayaub
Megan Burns

Samantha Goldstein

Caitlin Heenan
Jeremy Kaplan

Sarah Khan

Anurima Kumar

Max Lubell

Lucas Maiman

Alexis Megdanoff
Madeline Nowicki
Anna Polumbo-Levy 

Jason Rowland

Anu Roy-Chaudhury

Ali Safawi

Sarah Salman
Kevin Sweitzer

Rebecca Tarnopol

Stephanie Trierweiler

Ashley Zhang

W

hen I was around 
13 
years 
old, 
I 

became absolutely 

desperate to be in my 20s. 
I was just old enough to 
desire independence but still 
too immature to handle it. 
I imagined my 20s as this 
glittering time in my life when I 
would have my own apartment, 
spend my evenings partying 
and eventually meet the love 
of my life. I envisioned my 20s 
as the best decade of my life; 
I wouldn’t be burdened with 
children yet, and I would still be 
young and in shape. I would also 
have a high-power, high-paying 
job. I would never be alone, and 
my life would be magical. 

Though I’m not too far into my 

20s, I have to say this experience 
hasn’t been what I expected. 
From what I’ve seen so far, 
adulthood actually consists of 
living with roommates in cheap 
apartments, praying to find a 
well-paying job after graduation 
and using mobile apps to hook 
up with people you hope aren’t 
weird. 
Overall, 
this 
decade 

will most likely consist of 
inconsistency, of never settling 
in one place long enough to 
establish a community.

Once you make friends in 

one place, you find yourself 
moving again to a different 
city. And from what I’ve been 
told by those in their late 20s, 
life won’t really settle down 
until long after college is over. 
You move out of your parents’ 
home, try to make friends 
wherever you go and get 
used to being alone. Instead 
of being called “the most 
exciting decade of your life,” 
maybe this decade should be 
labeled “the loneliest decade 
of your life.”

This year, I’ll be a senior. 

Since starting college, I have 
switched living arrangements 
five times and moved permanent 
residences once. I believe this 
living situation is pretty normal 
for a college student, but the 
process of constantly changing 
homes creates a real feeling of 
isolation. When the people you 
usually see on a day-to-day basis 
suddenly change, you have to find 
comfort and a feeling of home 
inside yourself instead of in those 
around you.

I’ve 
come 
to 
recognize 

many aspects of my life — my 
possessions, my goals, even my 
friendships — as temporary. 
Upon 
graduating, 
I 
won’t 

know when I’ll see my friends 
in person again. What I once 
considered 
to 
be 
perennial 

facets of my daily life have now 
become temporary situations I’ll 
need to prepare to live without.

Yet I’ve also discovered 

there are some benefits of 
being lonely for an extended 
period of time. Of course, 
when you’re living in that 
solitary moment, it’s hard to 

see what good can come out of 
a long period of solitude. But 
nothing helps two people get 
to know each other better than 
being forced to spend a lot of 
time together; the same works 
for getting to know yourself. 
When you are forced to be alone, 
you learn a lot more about how 
you function, what your likes 
and dislikes are and thus how 
you can better succeed.

Without the influence of 

outside 
voices, 
you 
really 

begin to know what makes 
you, you. And I have found 
that a place or a city is most 
accessible not when I have a 
lot of friends there, but when 
I’m not afraid of exploring it 
on my own. True confidence 
and 
self-assurance 
don’t 

come from being surrounded 
by friends and family, but 
from knowing yourself well 
enough to be able to spend an 
extended period of time alone.

It’s true that my 20s haven’t 

quite 
yet 
lived 
up 
to 
the 

expectations I held when I was 
13. I’m not super rich and I don’t 
have a bajillion friends and as 
clichéd as this sounds, I’ve come 
to the awful understanding that 
our lives are not at all like the 
young-people sitcoms we used 
to watch. But every day I learn 
something new about myself, and 
every day I’m a little bit stronger, 
a little bit more confident for it. 
And even though I can’t wait 
until I’m (hopefully) financially 
and personally settled in my 
30s, I’m trying to enjoy the 
freedom and independence I 
know I only get to experience 
when I’m on my own.

When adulthood gets lonely

ELENA HUBBELL | COLUMN

Elena Hubbell can be reached at 

elepearl@umich.edu.

W

hen school is finally 
out 
and 
summer 

arrives, I often find 

myself browsing the latest 
trends. 
However, 

this 
summer 
I 

got a “real world” 
office 
job 
and, 

instead of looking 
for 
high-waisted 

shorts and tanks, 
I 
found 
myself 

looking for blazers 
and dress pants. 
After spending a 
small fortune on 
clothes that made 
me feel uncomfortable and 
look like a box, I thought it 
would be worth it. I had to look 
professional, right?

As women, we are sent 

many mixed signals on what 
it means to look professional. 
I remember standing in the 
bathroom between meetings 
at 
the 
beginning 
of 
my 

internship, disgusted by the 
middle-aged woman I looked 
like I had become. I had never 
worn anything of this nature in 
my life, and this sudden change 
made me uncomfortable.

Through my experience as a 

young woman in a professional 
workplace, I found that having 
a lot of options regarding ways 
to dress myself can serve as 
a positive opportunity for 
personal expression. But upon 
further analysis I have come 
to realize all the ways this 
freedom 
puts 
unnecessary 

burdens on women in the 
workplace.

On my first day, I quickly 

noticed that men did not go 
through the same stress of 
getting dressed for work as 
women do. Growing up, boys 
are dressed by their parents 
in button-downs and khakis 
from the age of 3. By the time 
they enter the workplace, they 
know exactly how to present 
themselves to the professional 
world. They have been dressing 
the same way their entire lives. 
The same attire they wear to a 
wedding or celebration could 
be worn to the office as well.

As a woman, I have found 

liberation in my outfit choices, 

but I also have encountered 
mixed signals when deciding 
what is appropriate to wear 
to a certain gathering. When 

reading 
the 
words 

“business 
casual” 

in an email from a 
potential 
employer, 

my mind floods with 
outfit 
possibilities. 

Should I wear a blazer 
and 
pants? 
Dress 

pants or casual jeans? 
Flats or heels? Will 
they think I am a 
tramp if my heels are 
too high? What about 

the length of my skirt? Will 
they be offended if I show my 
shoulders?

I guarantee my boyfriend 

does not ask himself that many 
questions when he gets ready 
for an interview. The fashion 
industry 
makes 
a 
fortune 

off marketing each season’s 
“hot new look” to the female 
consumer, so they provide 
her 
with 
endless 
options. 

Thank you, Macy’s, I really do 
appreciate it, but the pressure 
I feel to “dress my best” cannot 
be eliminated by shopping at 
your semi-annual sale.

Women 
must 
constantly 

decide what outfit will best suit 
the situation. The way women 
are traditionally represented in 
fashion advertisements is often 
what one would expect to see in 
the bedroom, not the cubicle. 
Despite the stereotypes and 
implications women have in 
society, many women strive for 
equality between the sexes in 
the workplace.

In the ’70s, fashion designers 

recognized what these women 
were missing, and thus, the 
pantsuit rose to popularity. 
Pantsuits 
allowed 
women 

to dress just like their male 
counterparts in a demand for 
equal respect in the workplace. 
For centuries, it was frowned 
upon 
for 
women 
to 
wear 

pants, let alone a masculine-
looking suit. The pantsuit led 
the way for women to dress in 
a professional style that was 
similar to men’s, and it made 
headway in the fight for equal 
rights. However, as time went 

on and fashion evolved after 
the pantsuit hit stores, women 
were bombarded with mixed 
signals about what it meant 
to dress “business casual.” 
Blazers and skirts became a 
smashing combo for the office, 
and loafers became acceptable 
for women to wear to work.

I have found that, depending 

on the office environment, 
the norms for what women 
wear can be vastly different. 
Working at a tech startup 
versus 
working 
for 
the 

government calls for women to 
dress in vastly different ways. 
However, no matter the office 
environment, most of what 
men wear remains the same. 
Formal or casual, he will most 
likely to be pressured to wear a 
shirt with a collar.

I have found that one’s 

comfort 
should 
not 
be 

compromised by what one 
might 
be 
pressured 
into 

wearing to work. Out of all 
the boxy clothes I bought for 
my summer job, I ended up 
wearing dark pants and a white 
blouse nearly every day. It 
became my summer uniform.

Strangely, I found freedom 

in not having to think about 
what to wear to work every 
day. That is probably the way 
men feel, too. I could go to 
work focused on what I needed 
to accomplish that day, rather 
than worrying if my necklace 
matched my shoes.

As women, we have more 

freedom than men in deciding 
what 
to 
wear. 
The 
ever-

evolving 
fashion 
industry 

leaves it up to us to choose 
which pieces best fit our 
style and the occasion. This 
summer, 
without 
intending 

to, I ended up taking comfort 
in wearing basically the same 
outfit to work every day, and 
it was strangely liberating. 
Perhaps all the choices women 
encounter in selecting just the 
right outfit, while fun, ignore 
the fact that we are also in the 
office to work.

 

The importance of admitting ignorance

JOSEPH FRALEY | OP-ED

FRANNIE MILLER | CONTACT FRANNIE AT FRMILLER@UMICH.

Redefining business casual

MICHELLE PHILLIPS| COLUMN

I 

am fortunate enough to 
surround 
myself 
with 

people who are generally 

politically 
motivated, 
left-

leaning individuals. I live in 
a co-op filled with murals 
praising liberal and socialist 
views. I frequently visit Metal 
Frat, a place where it often 
seems difficult to visit without 
having a political conversation. 
I write for The Michigan Daily, 
a clearly liberal-leaning college 
newspaper. I’m majoring in Arts 
and Ideas, a major where my 
class conversations about art 
often lead to discussions about 
the art’s impact on the political 
climate during its conception. 

Through 
all 
of 
this, 
I 

have talked to many people 
who I view as being both 
intellectually superior to me 
and much more informed on 
the current political climate 
than I am. I like to pride myself 
on staying fairly well-informed 
and educated, yet I do often 
find myself in circumstances 
where I cannot keep with the 
conversation. Here is where I 
try to admit my ignorance and 
attempt to learn.

If there’s one thing I’m 

passionate about when it comes 
to politics, it’s caring. You have 
to care about something. No 
matter what specific issues 
you’re passionate about, as long 
as you have that passion, that’s 
what matters. Apathy is the 
enemy of progress and dialogue.

I can accept disagreeing 

with someone, but I cannot 
accept 
them 
not 
being 

involved in the conversation. 
I 
have 
talked 
to 
several 

friends who try to stay out 
of politics. When I asked 
them why they don’t have 
opinions, the answer I hear 
time and time again is that 
they are afraid of not knowing 
information during a debate 
or conversation.

This is quite understandable. 

In a world where we are in 

constant contact with others, 
losing face is a scary thing. 
Yet however understandable it 
may be, it does not excuse the 
action. One way to help cure 
this phenomenon would be 
to normalize the admittance 
of ignorance.

I 
remember 
a 
specific 

moment not too long ago when 
rumors first started spreading 
that President Donald Trump 
was going to end Deferred 
Action for Childhood Arrivals. 
I admittedly had no idea what 
DACA was at the time, but 
two of my classmates were 
very fired up about the issue. 

I think that even only a 
year ago, I would have kept 
quiet, alienating myself from 
these two people and fearing 
judgement, but this time I 
spoke up and inquired about 
DACA. This simple action 
made me feel like I was part 
of the conversation and less 
intimidated from intellectual 
political discourse.

The only way anyone can 

learn about economic and 
social issues is if they are 
taught, whether that’s through 
academia 
or 
their 
peers. 

Knowledge does not magically 
appear into someone’s head. 
If people become less afraid 
of not knowing, then maybe 
they will become more eager 
to learn.

This is particularly hard 

on our campus here at the 
University of Michigan, where 

most of us pride ourselves 
on 
our 
intelligence 
and 

individuality. If someone feels 
that either of those things has 
the potential of being taken 
away from them, they would 
more likely not speak than 
risk the loss.

As a community, we need 

to make people feel more 
comfortable with admitting 
their ignorance on a topic 
without 
feeling 
like 
their 

intelligence is being insulted. 
Hopefully, this will encourage 
people to participate more in 
current political dialogue. 

If there ever was a time 

to participate, it’s now. The 
current 
political 
climate 

almost doesn’t feel like real 
life at this point. Often when I 
read the news I have to remind 
myself that this isn’t a movie 
and we can’t just take the film 
out of the projector.

Trump blazed a trail of 

unrealistic promises and hate 
across the campaign trail. 
Now, over 200 days into his 
presidency, 
our 
country’s 

reality is worse than most of 
us could have even imagined. 
I know a lot of people who 
didn’t vote during the 2016 
presidential election because 
they were still sucked into 
their own apathy. Now is the 
time to come together, to 
learn and to make our country 
a better place. We can’t do 
that without votes.

Decisions 
on 
every 

level of government affect 
our 
community, 
whether 

transparent or not. I am still 
very uninformed on local and 
state politics. I hope to learn a 
lot more about the lower levels 
of 
government 
during 
my 

junior year at the University. 
I hope to take that knowledge 
and share it with anyone that 
is willing to listen.

Joseph Fraley is an LSA junior and a 

Daily Arts writer

MICHELLE 

PHILLIPS

Michelle Phillips can be reached at 

mphi@umich.edu.

CONTRIBUTE TO THE CONVERSATION

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Letters should be fewer than 300 words while op-eds should be 600 
to 850 words. Send the writer’s full name and University affiliation to 

tothedaily@michigandaily.com.

“Apathy is the 

enemy of 

progress and 

dialogue.”

Without the 
influence of 

outside voices, 

you really begin to 
know what makes 

you, you.

