A 
 

thought popped into my 
head as I walked out of 
Hill 
Auditorium 
after 

a live Q&A with a 
politician 
I 
deeply 

respect, 
Hillary 

Clinton. I realized that, 
to 
my 
recollection, 

Clinton didn’t mention 
a single word about 
the 
mistakes 
her 

campaign 
made 
in 

2016. 
To 
be 
sure, 

Russian interference, 
voter 
suppression 

and 
former 
FBI 

director Jim Comey’s 
statements had an enormous 
impact on the ultimate outcome. 
However, 
surely 
the 
Clinton 

campaign would change some 
aspects of their strategy if they 
could run all over again. 

I worry my blindness in the 

moment to Clinton’s mistakes is 
indicative of a larger, problematic 
trend 
in 
the 
United 
States. 

The American voter tends to 
mythologize the political figures 
we support, transforming them 
into heroes whom we project our 
hopes and dreams onto. Idolizing 
politicians in this way can only 
lead 
to 
disappointment 
and 

political fragmentation.

The 
realities 
of 
modern 

campaigning 
exacerbate 
the 

American tendency to herald 
our chosen candidates as heroes. 
Campaigns run relentless ads 
exalting their candidate as a 
pillar of American exceptionalism 
and 
ruthlessly 
demonizing 

their opponent. For example, 
Ed Gillespie, Republican and 
Virginia gubernatorial candidate, 
ran 
a 
commercial 
about 
a 

month ago tying his opponent 
to the notoriously violent MS-13 
gang. The words “Kill, Rape, 
Control” flash across the screen 
a split second before Gillespie’s 
opponent’s 
face 
appears. 
By 

contrast, the ad paints Gillespie 
as a conquering hero ready to 
vanquish the dangers of gang 
violence. Ads like these exploit 
primal human emotions like fear 
to convince voters that politicians 
exist as either evil villains or 
virtuous heroes.

Viral marketing and social 

media further distort American 
perceptions of politicians. When 
we circulate memes of politicians 
online, when we watch politicians 
in funny late night TV bits and 
when we unquestioningly retweet 
politicians, we imbue our elected 
officials with celebrity status. 
This social media content and 

the short attention span of the 
internet reward charisma over 
policy substance.

Additionally, 

the 
current 

extreme 
political 

polarization 
within 

the U.S. encourages 
unquestioned loyalty 
to 
and 
admiration 

for party candidates. 
Polls 
from 
2014 

indicate 
Americans 

are 
more 
likely 

than ever before to 
consistently express a 
liberal or conservative 

viewpoint. 
This 
ideological 

consistency 
carries 
over 
to 

people’s friend groups and social 
media; over a third of Americans 
only see one ideological viewpoint 
represented on their social media 
feeds. These sort of echo chambers 
encourage political groupthink 
by expressing the same opinions 
over and over again. If a voter 
observes near constant praise for 
their party’s preferred candidate 
online, they may be more likely 
to observe that politician as an 
infallible hero.

The idolization of politicians 

carries 
troubling 
implications 

for American democracy. First, 
viewing politicians as heroes 
blinds voters to their candidate’s 
flaws. A perfect example lies in 
the Democratic opinion of Barack 
Obama’s economic policies. A 
Reuters poll from 2015 indicated 
64 percent of Democrats believed 
Obama’s policies improved the 
economy. 
However, 
economic 

data indicates the economy has 
improved mostly for the rich, not 
for those of lower socioeconomic 
status, 
thus 
exacerbating 

economic inequality. Evidence 
indicates 
Obama’s 
policies 

directly contributed to the rise of 
the rich and stagnation of middle 
American incomes; when the 
economy collapsed, the Dodd-
Frank Wall Street Reform Act 
left giant loopholes for financiers 
to jump through, instead of 
tightening regulations on big 
banks and Wall Street. 

Of course, this sort of blindness 

extends to the other side of the 
aisle. How else could 81 percent 
of white Evangelical Christians 
vote for Donald Trump (a man 
who brags openly about sexual 
assault and was pro-choice until 
2011)? Though Trump’s behavior 
arguably 
violates 
Christian 

morals, Evangelicals voted for 
him because they believed the 
Republican party would advance 

important 
goals 
like 
pro-life 

legislation and curbing illegal 
immigration. Political idolization 
prevents voters from holding 
officials accountable for their 
policy and moral failures.

When we put our politicians 

on 
pedastals, 
we 
imbue 

them with more power than 
they actually have to make 
change; this inevitably leads to 
disappointment. The U.S. political 
system was designed to preserve 
the status quo. Politicians aiming 
to make change must confront 
three branches of government, a 
bicameral legislature, federalism, 
factional and partisan politics and 
hostile special interests every step 
of the way. In recent years, 
about only three percent of 
bills considered in Congress 
became laws.

The enormous gap between 

voter 
expectations 
and 

the legislative reality only 
breeds 
disappointment 
and 

resentment, as demonstrated 
by 
Congress’s 
current 
13 

percent approval rating. This 
sort of frustration may be a 
significant cause of America’s 
embarrassingly 
low 
voter 

turnout rate. Tempering our 
expectations may ultimately 
reduce our collective cynicism 
about the democratic process.

Lastly, worshipping a single 

politician can blind voters to the 
merits of other candidates who 
may advance their interests. 
The phenomenon of the small 
amount 
of 
Bernie 
Sanders 

supporters 
who 
voted 
for 

Donald Trump demonstrates 
this danger. The proportion 
may seem insignificant at an 
estimated 12 percent. However, 
Trump’s 
margin 
of 
victory 

was very small in states like 
Michigan; 
perhaps 
those 

lost votes could have made 
a difference if they went to 
Hillary Clinton. Though Bernie 
falls ideologically left of Clinton, 
surely a President Clinton would 
have advanced policies more 
favorable to Bernie supporters 
than President Trump has.

I’m not advocating adopting 

a jaded stance toward all 
politicians. 
Elected 
officials 

can be great role models, and I 
believe most are true patriots. 
I only ask we hold our favorite 
politicians 
accountable 
for 

their actions and not fall into 
blind devotion. 

I

n discourse about politics, I 
see increased divisiveness, 
cynicism and an averseness 

to 
perspective 
and 

debate. In laying out 
the problematic ideas 
and beliefs I see coming 
from 
“democratic 

socialists,” 
I 
can 

confidently 
say 
(as 

someone who defines 
himself as a moderate/
centrist liberal) the 
terms 
“liberal” 
and 

“democratic socialists” 
are not synonymous.

Political 
commentator 

David Sirota, a self-professed 
progressive 
liberal, 
states 

that “there is a fundamental 
difference” between a centrist 
liberal 
and 
a 
“progressive.” 

The 
term 
“progressive” 
or 

“democratic socialist,” which 
I find to mean the same, is 
normally 
a 
politically 
fiscal 

concept. According to Sirota, 
“‘liberals’ ... are those who focus 
on using taxpayer money to help 
better society.” He continues, 
“‘progressive’(s) are those who 
focus on using government power 
to make large institutions play by 
a set of rules.” In addition to this 
definition, I find “democratic 
socialism/progressivism” 
has 
developed 
an 
ideology 

where self-referentiality is the 
foundation of morality.

Let me be clear: There are issues 

our country needs to fix. I certainly 
want and work for women to be 
treated respectfully, and that 
everyone, regardless of gender, 
race or religion, should receive 
equal opportunities. To me, this 
is simply being a good human. 
But when these morally sound 
baselines are hyper-contorted to 
fit ideology, not policy, the issues 
become misconstrued. There isn’t 
actually a push for progress, but 
rather a tit-for-tat competition of 
who can be the most “progressive.”

One of the larger issues I’ve 

noticed 
is 
the 
“democratic 

socialist” mindset — a blind faith 
in some policies not because they 
are understood, but because they 
sound nice. This leads to easily-
repeated phrases and slogans 
(“resist, resist, resist”) that, I 
guarantee you, most of their users 
do not understand. It’s just the 

“right thing” to say — and people 
retweet, like and pat them on the 
back for doing so.

For example, some 

cite Bernie Sanders 
on the importance of 
free college education. 
A common solution 
provided 
is 
taxing 

more of the wealthy 
corporations so that 
our education could 
be paid. But do you 
understand 
the 
tax 

systems 
involved? 

Do you understand 

the necessary restructuring of 
existing policy? Do you reckon 
that some privileges might be 
taken away? I reckon that almost 
all these individuals who abide by 
such beliefs don’t know; rather, 
they faithfully follow the leader. 
This is highly problematic. Though 
reduced college fees certainly 
aren’t unreasonable, it is still our 
duty as citizens to understand 
policy and logically develop our 
own ideas, not base our logic in 
niceties and emotional rhetoric.

In addition, the “progressive” 

movement has begun to use 
tactics scarily similar to the Tea 
Party’s, much of which includes 
their 
response 
to 
President 

Obama’s stimulus bailout package 
in 2009. What started as an issue 
on fiscal policy quickly became 
an organization that popularized 
and 
espoused 
some 
deeply 

questionable ideas, such as the 
birther movement, and welcomed 
problematic 
people, 
such 
as 

Donald Trump. In addition, people 
in the Tea Party had a sense of 
disdain for dialogue and believed 
the system doesn’t need to be 
improved, but destroyed. From my 
perspective, eerily similar notions 
from the “democratic socialists” 
are being espoused. The biggest 
difference is that the baseline 
notions of progressivism are good, 
but their intents are taken far out 
of proportion.

An issue in “progressivism” is 

an aversion to introspection on the 
morality of the movement, since 
many of the underlying values 
are moral and just. Therefore, 
whenever there is a “screaming 
match” against a campus speaker, 
there’s a sense of a moral “high 
ground” because it is “in the name 

of” equality. Therefore, any action 
(though possibly uncouth and 
quite morally dubious) that defeats 
the “perpetrator” is acceptable. 
There’s no actual dialogue to 
question, to think about their own 
ideas and to debunk questionable 
notions. It’s just a mob looking for 
a person or group to blame and 
demolish. “Democratic socialism” 
now isn’t about change — it’s about 
getting even. 

I find that, in the name of 

increased 
dialogue, 
equality, 

justice and other good things, 
the “progressive” movement has 
played a bit of mental gymnastics 
with the semantics of these words. 
These words push politics into a 
competition, not actually hoping 
for true progress, but a sense of 
camaraderie among only certain 
individuals and a personal need 
for acceptance. The movement has 
become a contest of who can be 
more “progressive” and who needs 
to be done away with — rather than 
persuaded and reformed.

Furthermore, 
the 
sense 
of 

morality is almost entirely based 
on 
self-referentiality. 
If 
only 

one person has qualms about a 
certain phrase, word or minute 
action, 
everything 
associated 

with that deed is regarded as 
morally problematic. Though this 
sometimes is fine, my problem is 
that “progressives” today deem 
this the end of the discussion. 
There are no follow-up questions, 
or only some social group can 
comment. Otherwise, any remarks 
are seen as unethical and an 
egregious act against a particular 
group of people.

I hope that the Democratic 

Party, which I usually support, 
takes a step back and doesn’t adopt 
this ideology into its platforms. 
If the Democrats want to win in 
2018, they must begin to distance 
themselves from this mindset. 
Though the baselines for this 
movement are things I work 
and advocate for, the aggressive, 
exclusionary, 
hyper-partisan 

rhetoric the “democratic socialists” 
push will only create more divide, 
which then creates more tumult to 
the chagrin of more retweets, more 
likes and smugger political sport.

Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Friday, November 3, 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

I’m not a “democratic socialist.”

DAVID KAMPER | COLUMN

Kill your political darlings

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

Tom Aiello can be reached at 

thomaiel@umich.edu.

Two months after

 Editor’s note: The writer’s name 
has been changed to protect their 
identity.
12

:47 
p.m.: 
My 

appointment 
is 
at 

1:00 p.m., so I decide 

to take an Uber to the clinic, 
wondering if the driver can sense 
my discomfort.

The worst day of my life 

was not the night of my rape. 
It wasn’t printing out a coupon 
for Plan B the next day. It also 
wasn’t when I wrote my suicide 
note seven months later and 
went to bed hoping I wouldn’t 
wake up in the morning. It is 
this day, two months after my 
assault, sobbing in a strange 
bathroom for 45 minutes, that is 
seared into my memory.

1:15 p.m.: I am sitting in 

the waiting room of Planned 
Parenthood, slightly shaking as I 
fill out paperwork.

Post-traumatic stress disorder 

is strange and unpredictable. 
It had my brain inputting my 
assaulter’s face on nearly all 
men in my life, avoiding walking 
anywhere from my usual routes 
and forgetting important details 
of that night only for them to 
come back in jarring flashbacks. 
I avoided intentionally thinking 
or 
talking 
about 
anything 

relating to my assault, which is 
why I waited to get tested for 
STIs and HIV until two months 
after I was raped.

1:43 p.m.: The results of my 

rapid HIV test are negative. We 
just need a urine sample for the 
STI test, the nurse says, adding 
that they won’t call me unless it’s 
proven positive.

To 
say 
I 
am 
cautious 

regarding sex would be a huge 
understatement. I had always 
been so careful with condoms 

and birth control in order to 
minimize any risk of pregnancy 
and disease. The night I was 
raped, I was unsure of anything 
that occurred; I had no control 
in the situation. I remembered 
few details, and I didn’t trust 
his account. I felt so stupid. This 
never should have happened. 
How could I have let this happen 
to me?

2:28 p.m.: I have been sitting 

on the toilet for 30 minutes now, 
with the water running to garner 
a urine sample of any sort. The 
sooner I get this done, the sooner 
I can leave, I think, with tears 
streaming down my cheeks.

Why me? I couldn’t look 

at 
myself 
anymore, 
feeling 

disgusted and betrayed by my 
own body. I remember looking 
in 
the 
mirror 
10 
minutes 

after my assault and telling 
myself that I was a whore. 
A 
controlling, 
long-distance 

ex-boyfriend would get angry 
when I partied and said that 
one day I would get raped. He 
was right.

2:41 p.m.: I shut the bathroom 

door behind me and tell the 
nurse I couldn’t do the urine 
sample between sobs. She takes 
me aside, and I tell her I was 
assaulted. She asks if I am 
seeing a therapist, I tell her I am 
currently seeing two.

The first close friend I told 

said to not make a big deal 
about it. The first therapist 
I told said I needed to take 
responsibility for my drinking. 
I became more guarded than 
I ever had been. For months, I 
would stay up until early hours 
in the morning, searching the 
internet for resources to tell me 
if I was right or if they were.

2:52 p.m.: I finish the cup of 

water the nurse gave me and 
compose myself enough to walk 
out of the office. I schedule an 
appointment for 4:00 p.m. later 

that day in hopes my bladder 
will comply.

Saying 
the 
word 
“rape” 

wasn’t something I could do 
until nearly a year later. Rape 
was violent and I never fought 
back that night; I just laid there 
and tried to get it over with as 
soon as possible. I remember 
thinking, “No I don’t want this 
and I don’t like him holding my 
head down, but I’m too drunk to 
fend him off and I said no earlier 
so why would he listen now and 
it will be over soon enough.” It 
wasn’t sex, I was just a body to 
masturbate into. What worth 
do I have now? Who would ever 
love a damaged girl?

4:12 p.m.: I return to the clinic 

in fresh makeup and finally 
complete the urine test. I don’t 
receive a call from the clinic, 
meaning I am clean. I breathe 
for what seems like the first time 
in months.

I ache for all those girls who 

were before me, as I am sure 
I was not the only one. I ache 
for my friends who all say they 
have had something similar 
happen to them before. I ache 
for my parents who learned 
months later and never wanted 
to believe something like this 
could happen to their baby girl. 
But I don’t ache for myself. For 
months, I went into survival 
mode and did the absolute 
minimum to go on to the next 
day. I haven’t felt anything since 
the night where my body, trust 
and innocence were taken from 
me. As if under anesthesia, I 
feel pressure but no pain — just 
absolute numbness.

MADISON

Madison is an LSA student. 

David Kamper can be reached at 

dgkamper@umich.edu. 

This is the third piece in the 

Survivors Speak series, which 

seeks to share the varied, 

first-person experiences of survivors 

of sexual assault. 

TOM AIELLO | COLUMN

FRANNIE MILLER | CONTACT FRANNIE AT FRMILLER@UMICH.EDU

TOM 

AIELLO

DAVID

KAMPER