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.