W

ith the election of 
Donald 
Trump, 

students 
have 

been getting more involved 
in 
activism. 
From 
the 

Women’s 
March 
the 
day 

after the election, to A Day 
Without Immigrants, to the 
March for Science in the 
spring, to the marches and 
phone 
banking 
following 

the president’s decision to 
rescind 
Deferred 
Action 

for 
Childhood 
Arrivals, 

students have been partaking 
in 
activism 
at 
campuses 

across the United States. In 
the 2011-12 school year, 11.1 
percent 
of 
undergraduate 

students in the United States 
had some type of disability. 
With such a large percentage 
of students dealing with a 
disability, 
it 
is 
important 

that activist groups make 
their events accessible to 
disabled students by creating 
a respectful and welcoming 
environment and improving 
infrastructure at events.

The 
biggest 
issue 
with 

mainstream activism is not a 
lack of representation; rather, 
it is misrepresentation. Even 
if intentions are good, the 
way those with disabilities 
are portrayed in activism 
can 
be 
problematic. 
A 

common form of this type of 
misrepresentation 
is 
from 

the “hero and pity” narrative. 
For 
example, 
we 
often 

see the story of “the hero 
who, despite their hideous 
impairment, was able to get 
into the Paralympics.” This 
“hero and pity” narrative 
creates a negative sentiment 
that suggests that having a 
disability is the worst thing 
that could happen to a person.

Halimat 
Olaniyan, 
the 

president of Disability Studies 
and Other Identity Politics at 
the University of Michigan, 
a 
student 
organization 

aimed 
toward 
representing 

disability 
narratives 
and 

facilitating 
discussions 
on 

intersectionality 
within 
the 

disabled 
community, 
echoes 

this 
sentiment. 
“Oftentimes 

people glorify successful people 
with disabilities, and that’s 
problematic,” Olaniyan said.

When this narrative appears 

in activism, it not only does 

a disservice to those activist 
groups, but makes their groups 
less accessible to those with 
disabilities 
by 
pushing 
a 

narrative in which the disabled 
don’t feel respected.

Problematic allyship is also 

an issue within mainstream 
activism. While the intentions 
of allies are usually good, it 
is important that they stay 
in the background — to be as 
supportive as possible without 
it becoming patronizing — 
rather than try to speak for 
the 
disabled 
community. 

This way, disabled folks can 
advocate for themselves and 
can feel more comfortable at 
activist events.

Social 
media 
showcase 

problematic 
activism. 
“It’s 

really hard, with Facebook 
and 
sites 
like 
that 
just 

being a big part of our lives. 
Oftentimes you have — not 
fake allies, that’s not the 
correct way to say it — but you 
have people going out of their 
way to, say, take a picture 
with someone who is disabled 
or take a picture that makes it 
look like they’re helping this 
person and turning the issue 
into something about them,” 
Olaniyan said.

It 
is 
possible 
to 
make 

activism 
more 
accessible 

to those with disabilities. 
Bettering infrastructure at 
events is the most concrete 
way 
of 
making 
activism 

accessible. Infrastructure can 
mean making sure there are 
adequate ways for those with 
disabilities to get to the event 
venue and attend the event 
comfortably. An example of 
improving 
infrastructure 

is having an American Sign 
Language 
interpreter 
to 

translate any speakers the 
event has for those who are 

deaf or hard of hearing and 
know ASL.

Activists 
can 
also 
take 

advantage of the internet 
to make their events more 
accessible 
to 
those 
with 

disabilities by livestreaming 
their events on social media. 
In 
January, 
the 
Women’s 

March on Washington paired 
up with the Disability March. 
The Disability March was an 
online-only march for those 
who could not make it to 
the Women’s March because 
of a disability or chronic 
illness. On its website, the 
Disability 
March 
allowed 

marchers 
to 
enter 
their 

stories surrounding disability 
or chronic illness, either from 
themselves or from someone 
they love. By including these 
types of services, activist 
groups can make their events 
more accessible.

Accessibility 
also 
means 

inclusivity. Arranging for more 
disabled speakers is key to 
making events more inclusive. 
This 
doesn’t 
just 
include 

disabled speakers at disability 
rights events but at events for 
LGBTQ rights events, events 
for racial justice and other 
issues. 
“It’s 
really 
moving 

to the affected communities 
(to see a disabled speaker),” 
Olaniyan affirmed. “It’s like, 
wow, I can do that too.”

Moving 
toward 

intersectionality 
in 
activism 

is 
an 
important 
step 
in 

incorporating diverse narratives 
in modern activism. Activists 
with disabilities fight for more 
than just disability issues. Many 
disabled activists are also queer, 
people of color or transgender, 
and 
they 
have 
important 

contributions to conversations 
surrounding those topics.

Nonviolent activism is an 

effective method of protest 
that can generate positive 
change in the United States. 
To have the largest impact 
possible, activist groups need 
to consider all people who 
want to partake in activism 
when planning their events. It 
is possible to create activism 
that includes all, regardless 
of ability or health.

Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Thursday, September 28, 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

I 

have not yet read Hillary 
Clinton’s 
book 
“What 

Happened.” I’m sure I’ll 

get around to it eventually, 
and I trust I’m not 
missing 
anything 

earth-shattering 
in 
the 
meantime. 

Some of it will be 
thought-provoking, 
other parts mind-
numbing. Of the bits 
and pieces that have 
made headlines to 
this point, though, 
one 
passage 
has 

already managed to 
make my blood boil.

The 
former 
presidential 

candidate 
wrote: 
“Crowds 

at Trump rallies called for 
my 
imprisonment 
more 

times than I can count. They 
shouted, 
‘Guilty! 
Guilty!’ 

like the religious zealots in 
‘Game of Thrones’ chanting 
‘Shame! Shame!’ while Cersei 
Lannister walked back to the 
Red Keep.”

To be clear, my displeasure 

with this passage has nothing 
to do with my obsession with 
“Game of Thrones,” nor does 
it have anything to do with my 
opinion of Hillary Clinton. It 
has everything to do with my 
disgust for a habit in which 
too many of my fellow campus 
liberals 
have 
indulged, 
a 

kind of storybook politics 
that flattens political figures 
into fictional characters and 
attempts to remove all nuance 
from 
current 
events. 
It 

recasts political opponents as 
supervillains or evil dragons 
to be slain, simultaneously 
elevating a selected pantheon 
of like-minded politicians to 
the status of beloved heroes, 
equipped with a shiny set 
of armor and a sword. You’d 
think Hillary Clinton would 
be familiar with it by now.

A certain degree of this 

manner of political positioning 
is to be expected, of course. 
Often 
the 
easiest 
way 
to 

appear 
principled, 
caring 

and thoughtful is to paint the 
opposition 
as 
thoughtless, 

apathetic hypocrites. But what 
sets this framing aside is its 
blatant immaturity.

On Nov. 9, 2016, hundreds 

of disappointed Clinton voters 
flocked to Twitter and began 
a 
barrage 
of 
comparisons 

between Donald Trump and 
Voldemort, the fictional villain 
of the Harry Potter universe. 
Putting aside the fact that this 
comparison 
trivializes 
the 

very real effect his election has 
had on immigrants, Muslims, 
women, LGBTQ communities 
and the uninsured (not a 
fictional population of witches 
and wizards), it broadcasts 
to 
the 
lowest 
common 

denominator. 
“Politics 
are 

complicated,” it seems to say. 
“We prefer a straightforward 
narrative structure with a good 

guy and a bad guy.”

This was far from 

an isolated incident. 
In the two years since 
Trump 
announced 

his 
candidacy 
for 

the 
Republican 

nomination, he has 
been 
compared 
to 

Voldemort, 
Dolores 

Umbridge, 
Darth 

Vader, the Penguin 
from 
Batman, 

Dr. 
Evil, 
Joffrey 

Baratheon, 
a 
James 
Bond 

villain and Jabba the Hutt. 
Hillary Clinton benefited in 
part from purported likenesses 
to characters like Hermione 
Granger, Leslie Knope and 
Princess 
Leia. 
Too 
many 

Democratic 
primary 
voters 

got caught up online last year 
debating a contrived analogy 
in which Bernie Sanders was 
the kindly old wizard Gandalf, 
Hillary Clinton was Saruman 
and Donald Trump was Sauron. 
Some of these comparisons 
may be fairer than others; I 
personally couldn’t care less.

What’s 
exceedingly 

problematic, however, is that 
a fundamental change takes 
place when this association 
comes into play. No one sits 
down and considers why they 
root against the Joker; you root 
against him simply because 
he’s evil. By the same token, 
when “Saturday Night Live” 
portrays 
Steve 
Bannon 
as 

the Grim Reaper, one doesn’t 
think much further than the 
dark hood and the sickle.

Furthermore, 
these 

narratives tend to elevate a 
hero, some likable protagonist 
who comes along to act as the 
champion of the downtrodden 
and slay the beast. Politicians, 
though, make bad heroes, and 
our relationship with them 
is 
constantly 
questioned. 

Barack 
Obama 
enjoyed 
a 

semi-immediate canonization 
from 
millions 
of 
liberal 

Americans as he left office, 
and they cried out for four 
more years without a second 
thought about how they may 
disagree with his policies 
on 
immigration 
(deporting 

more people than any other 
president 
in 
history) 
and 

the Middle East (furthering 
American imperialism with 
an egregious expansion of 
U.S. drone programs). But 
such liberal sins are absolved, 
out of sight and out of mind, 
a small price to pay for the 
peace of mind that is waking 
up in the morning knowing 
there’s 
a 
hero 
out 
there 

somewhere.

The 
clear 
danger 
this 

phenomenon 
presents 
is 

a kind of infantile hyper-
partisanship, allowing people 
to shirk their responsibilities 
as voters to be skeptical, 
to 
constantly 
interrogate 

their support of this or that 
candidate. 
Being 
a 
well-

informed 
and 
thoughtful 

political 
observer 
takes 

exponentially more research, 
consideration 
and 
self-

reflection than it does to 
choose which character you 
want to see sitting on the 
Iron Throne or winning the 
Hunger Games.

When we see the opposition 

as morally deficient or wholly 
corrupt and the candidate we 
voted for in the last election 
as a hero in any sense of 
the word, our allegiances 
become dangerously blurred, 
associated 
more 
so 
with 

personalities rather than a set 
of values. It seems, though, as 
if the majority of Americans 
currently prefer to continue 
self-identifying with Bernie 
or Hillary (meanwhile the 
intra-party 
divisions 
have 

been far more complicated 
than 
this 
false 
binary), 

with Trump or against him. 
Identifying 
our 
personal 

position on health care falls 
behind the need to call a win 
for our heroes.

Ultimately, the effect is not 

isolated to the individual but 
bleeds into their supporters. 
Not only is the opposition the 
enemy, but so is anyone who 
has ever supported the enemy. 
How could they ever vote for 
such a villain and how are we 
supposed to respond to such 
an unforgivable sin? Once a 
Death Eater, always a Death 
Eater, no?

For a sizable cohort of young 

Twitter users (and whoever 
helped Hillary Clinton write 
her book), it seems like the 
world 
has 
shed 
its 
third 

dimension. A political climate 
that 
is 
frequently 
taxing, 

often invalidating and always 
unpredictable 
has 
become 

manageable, at the cost of 
nuance. Enough. Your political 
opponents aren’t fictional and 
the person you voted for isn’t 
a savior. These comparisons to 
pop culture, though sometimes 
amusing, are a colossal waste 
of 
time 
and 
cheapen 
the 

political process. Resist the 
temptation to engage with 
them, to debate them, to 
introduce them yourself. The 
mild chuckle you might get 
from comparing senators to 
the cast of “Stranger Things” 
isn’t worth it.

Make activism accessible

 EMILY HUHMAN | COLUMN

Storybook politics

BRETT GRAHAM | COLUMN

Brett Graham can be reached at 

btgraham@umich.edu.

Emily Huhman can be reached at 

huhmanem@umich.edu.

I 

knew long before this 
weekend how I felt about 
kneeling 
during 
the 

national anthem. Whether I 
like it or not, it’s a right and 
a privilege of living in this 
nation to protest peacefully. I 
was lucky enough to be born 
in the United States, and I can 
say without a doubt that there 
is no other place I would 
rather call home.

But protest is an integral 

part of our nation’s character, 
and 
often 
how 
we 
set 

ourselves as a country onto 
a better moral path. After 
all, it’s hard to fix something 
unless you acknowledge that 
it’s broken. Even if this is the 
best country in the world, it 
would be wholly un-American 
not to want to make it better.

That’s not to say that I don’t 

understand why some people 
are upset when players kneel. 
I do, especially when the 
debate is framed as a matter 
of respect for our veterans. It 
seems that, somewhere along 
the line, the flag and the 
national anthem transformed 
from symbols of something 
into that something. Some 
of my friends and my fellow 
citizens are insistent that 
you cannot be a patriot, a 
supporter of veterans or 
even an American unless you 
stand during the national 
anthem. 
(Don’t 
like 
this 

country? Leave.)

I would agree with them 

if 
this 
were 
truly 
about 

veterans. If Colin Kaepernick, 
the man responsible for first 
kneeling in protest during the 
national anthem, started this 
controversy by saying that he 
was protesting our veterans, 
I doubt this would be such a 
nuanced issue. Saying “I hate 
veterans” isn’t going to get 
you very far in a debate.

However, it should be noted 

that saying “I like people 
who weren’t captured” will 
land you in the Oval Office. 
So, if you’re not ready for 
the responsibility of being 
president 
of 
the 
United 

States, don’t come out against 
prisoners of war. And if 
respect for veterans is of the 
utmost importance to you, 
perhaps voting for such a man 
isn’t in line with your values. 
But neither of those quotes can 
be attributed to Kaepernick. In 
fact, the issue at hand in these 
protests is police brutality, 
specifically, 
and 
systemic 

racism in general.

No matter which side you 

stand 
on 
regarding 
these 

issues — whether you believe 
those are things of the past 
or problems to this day — 
discourse is only ever helpful 
to a nation’s progress. A lack 
of discourse, a desire not to 
talk about something, is often 
a sign of weakness.

Part of what makes this 

issue so baffling to me is that 
this was one of the first issues 
addressed by Kaepernick to 
the press when asked about 
his feelings toward veterans:

“I have great respect for 

the men and women that 
have fought for this country,” 
Kaepernick 
said. 
“I 
have 

family, I have friends that 
have gone and fought for this 
country. And they fight for 
freedom, they fight for the 
people, they fight for liberty 
and justice, for everyone. 
That’s not happening. People 
are dying in vain because this 
country isn’t holding their 
end of the bargain up, as far 
as giving freedom and justice, 
liberty to everybody.”

Whether 
you 
kneel 
or 

stand, 
let’s 
choose 
this 

as a departing point: Our 

veterans deserve respect, and 
our citizens deserve better. 
Yes? I hope that my fellow 
countrymen who voted to 
“Make America Great Again” 
can get behind that second 
clause as something other 
than misguided, snowflake, 
liberal propaganda.

I titled this piece “Should 

I kneel?” for a reason. I am 
not telling you to kneel. 
Kaepernick is not asking you 
to kneel, even if many people 
are demanding you stand. 
I ask myself this because 
I feel a responsibility to 
contribute to my community 
in some way.

Nobody 
cares, 
frankly, 

whether I stand or kneel. 
I’m a college student. I’m 
not a professional athlete, I 
don’t make millions. What 
I say and what I do does not 
make headlines. So how do 
I 
participate? 
Hopefully, 

by writing this article, by 
sparking 
conversations 

about this issue in a way 
that doesn’t spark fights. I’m 
not looking for a fight, but I 
can’t shy away from a chance 
to talk about something that 
matters very much to the 
quality of life for many here 
in our country.

I refuse to believe that 

being critical of my country 
is incompatible with loving 
it. That’s not a choice I have 
to make. I can respect our 
veterans, stand for change 
and celebrate what is already 
great all at the same time. 
Let’s get rid of the idea that 
you have to choose. This wall 
is not insurmountable. We 
have enough in common as 
Americans to get past this.

ANDREW MEKHAIL | OP-ED

Should I kneel?

Andrew Mekhail is an LSA 

sophomore.

ERIN WAKELAND | CONTACT ERIN AT ERINRAY@UMICH.EDU

BRETT 

GRAHAM

Activists with 
disabilities fight 
for more than just 
disability issues.

