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.