A
t first glance, the University
(and only the University)
causes
the
stress
that
defines many parts of our college
lives. That stress has translated to
action many times over; it seems
that every other week, some
coalition of students expresses
its grievances toward University
of Michigan President Schlissel.
This academic year has been no
different. In September there
began more of a push to rename
the C.C. Little Science Building; in
October, Charles Murray; and this
month, perhaps as a chaser for the
acrimonious start to the year, East
Quad Residence Hall dining hours.
At the University, when students
detect so much as a drop of blood
shed by the University, you can say
goodbye to nuance. Outrage and
oppression take the wheel.
I
myself
am
not
entirely
blameless of this mindset. I
have been contemptuous of the
University in the past; a few of
my columns have even dealt
with problems that I believe the
University should address. Nor
do I believe students must always
acquiesce to the University. We pay
a premium to attend the University
of Michigan. There is something to
be said about ensuring we have the
best experiences here.
But is our university really so
broken that we must harp on its
small shortcomings, rather than its
years of triumph? Must the student
body so frequently drive a wedge
between itself and the University?
On both counts, I found myself
answering in the negative. I arrived
at this answer not out of disdain,
but from my Twitter feed. It was
on my Twitter feed where, proudly
displayed
on
the
University’s
Twitter account, I saw an homage
to Janaki Ammal, the first woman
to earn a U.S. doctorate in botany.
In the backdrop of our own
seemingly taxing lives at the
University, consider Ammal’s life.
Ammal, one of 19 children, was
born and raised in India. Although
she was arranged to marry her first
cousin, Ammal instead left for the
United States after she earned a
prestigious Barbour Scholarship
from the University of Michigan.
At the University, she first earned
her master’s degree in 1925 and
then her doctorate in botany in
1931.
She
then
returned
to
Coimbatore, India, where she
used her expertise in cytogenetics
to create a high-yielding strain of
sugarcane that thrived in Indian
conditions. Shortly thereafter in
1935, Ammal was invited to be
a research fellow at the Indian
Academy of Sciences, but her status
as a single woman of a low caste
forced her to move to London to
continue her research. Working
in London during World War II,
Ammal would describe to friends
how she would dive under her bed
during German night bombings
and continue with her research the
next day.
Stories of University alumni
like Ammal put our own lives
in
perspective.
Ammal
used
the University to explore and
to innovate. For Ammal, the
University was not an infringer,
an impediment or an institution
confining us to our daily routines.
The University was instead a
bridge, moving her from poverty
in India to international acclaim in
the sciences. For those of us today
who inevitably hail from more
fortunate backgrounds, Ammal’s
story still offers valuable lessons,
like the need to step back and
considers the University’s storied
history before embarking on our
own diatribes.
Lessons
like
these
hold
true in the stories of the other
impressive alumni emblazoning
the University’s Twitter feed.
There were the familiar names,
of course, like Desmond Howard,
the University’s stud wide receiver
who won the Heisman in 1991,
and Larry Page, the co-founder
of Google. But the University
predominantly celebrated some
of its less well-known, but equally
impressive alumni like Ammal.
There was William Mayo, who
co-founded the Mayo Clinic in
1889; Frances E. Allen, he first
woman to win the Turing Award
for her high-speed computing
innovations; and Robert Shiller,
who shared the 2013 Nobel Prize in
economics.
For the unaware, the surge in
alumni
acknowledgments
and
folklore comes as the University
celebrates its Bicentennial. The
University has used the hashtag
#umich200 to honor alumni like
Ammal, Howard and Mayo.
For the cynics on campus, the
Bicentennial is easy fodder. A
cursory look at the Bicentennial
celebration flatly reads as another
distraction to dodge on the walk
through the Diag. And, for that
matter, is this even the University’s
true Bicentennial?
A little research reveals that
yes, it is in fact the University’s
true Bicentennial, and, yes, the
Bicentennial celebration is more
than a Diag nuisance. If it were
not for the University’s prolonged
celebration of its Bicentennial,
perhaps the stories of Janaki
Ammal, William Mayo or Frances
E. Allen would have remained
sparsely told. If nothing else,
the
Bicentennial
celebration
has done a commendable job in
acknowledging our University’s
history.
Possessing
a
deeper
understanding
and
knowledge
of the University’s history helps
us when we feel tempted to lash
out at the University. For the
students who feel bogged down
by the stresses of University life
and for those who feel the need to
issue demands toward President
Schlissel, the Bicentennial reminds
us that our most notable alumni
worked with the University rather
than in opposition.
It does not invalidate our
rights as students on campus.
We deserve the best here, and
it is within our jurisdiction to
hold the University to the best
standards. But celebrations like
the Bicentennial that honor people
like Janaki Ammal should give us
perspective on how lucky we are
to be at this University. There is a
wealth of potential for us to seize
on campus.
And while protest is a right
guaranteed to us all, something
I touched upon in a previous
column, we would do better
to remember the great people
and the storied history of our
University. We are a part of
the University, not a foil to
it. Consider the role of the
University in the life of alumni
that
the
Bicentennial
has
illuminated. Appreciate that we
go to a University that takes pride
in alumni like Janaki Ammal —
not all schools celebrate their
history. Ally with the University
and who knows, maybe when the
tricentennial comes along, you,
too, will be mentioned in kind.
W
hen I was about five
years old, I found
a picture book in
the children’s section of my
neighborhood library with an
illustration of a mass of KKK
members
in
white
sheets,
riding horses down a hill. I
don’t know whether the book
was about Reconstruction or
the civil rights movement, but
that image has been a visceral,
scarring memory ever since. I
had no idea what the KKK was,
but it was one of the first times
I instinctively felt utter fear.
My stomach still drops each
time I think about it.
With civil rights and public
interest lawyers as parents,
I had picture books about
Harriet
Tubman,
Frederick
Douglass and Ruby Bridges. In
my family’s annual Passover
seders, we talk about the
connection
between
the
enslavement and centuries-
long persecution of Jews, and
the enslavement of African
people and persecution Black
people throughout the world
deal with today. We talk about
the responsibility we feel to
work for equity and justice.
So when in my first semester
at the University of Michigan
I learned there was strong
presence of KKK sentiment
just 30 minutes away from
campus, I was naively but
seriously unnerved. I looked
more closely at hate group
maps
from
the
Southern
Poverty Law Center. I talked
with folks about the way that
chapter’s existence impacts
the
movement
of
people
throughout
the
state
and
its psychological effect on
residents near the chapter.
Of course, in my time at the
University we have seen white
supremacy surface above its
daily institutional and cultural
presence
to
interpersonal
violence, pseudoscience fliers,
a
student-organized
debate
and more.
On Aug. 11 and 12, white
supremacists
converged
in
Charlottesville. They brought
with
them
anti-Blackness,
antisemitism,
xenophobia,
Islamophobia and hatred for
anyone who “isn’t a member of
their respective communities.”
If that were my campus, I
probably would have been
in the crowd of counter-
protesters. While swastikas
are triggering for me, I think
I would mostly not have felt
threatened as a Jew because
white
privilege
allows
me
to pass as Christian. But I
would have been terrified as
an unarmed young person
standing up to a mob in military
gear. I would have been a
target with a masked identity,
a complex positionality I often
feel in this political moment.
I don’t want to have to make
that choice of whether or not
to show up to protest against a
mob of white supremacists, but
if University President Mark
Schlissel and the Board of
Regents allow Richard Spencer
to come to campus, I will have
to. Let’s make it so that none of
us have to make this decision.
Join me in demanding the
University
deny
Spencer’s
request to speak on campus.
Sign the petition, write a letter
and ask alumni, friends and
family to do the same.
As a student organizer, I
think a lot about who feels like
they belong on this campus and
how I can help make it so that
more and more people feel that
way. The white supremacists
who
marched
through
University
of
Virginia’s
campus took a space away from
students, professors and staff
who cultivate it, but the reality
is that many marginalized
students have likely never felt
that space totally belonged to
them.
At our predominantly white,
higher-income
institution,
we white people — especially
those
of
us
from
higher-
income backgrounds — need to
lean into the things that help
our fellow Wolverines feel
welcome and safe. Michigan
is a battleground. We need to
call out bigotry. We sometimes
need to put our bodies on the
line. We need to check-in with
and check our friends. We need
to report bias incidents in class
instead of worrying about our
grades and recommendation
letters. We need to be in spaces
where we are the minority
(if we’re welcome) and listen.
We need to set goals for self-
education. We need to actively
acknowledge
that
this
is
America and this is real, but
this is not us.
Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Tuesday, November 14, 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
This is America, but this is not us
LEAH SCHNECK | OP-ED
Yes, our bicentennial matters
Carolyn Ayaub
Megan Burns
Samantha Goldstein
Emily Huhman
Jeremy Kaplan
Sarah Khan
Max Lubell
Lucas Maiman
Madeline Nowicki
Anna Polumbo-Levy
Jason Rowland
Anu Roy-Chaudhury
Ali Safawi
Sarah Salman
Kevin Sweitzer
Rebecca Tarnopol
Stephanie Trierweiler
Ashley Zhang
Prioritize language study
MICHAEL MORDARSKI| COLUMN
“
I never use the word very.
It is a very weak word.”
That quote from former
Secretary of Defense Donald
Rumsfeld
is
written
on
a
whiteboard above my desk.
It’s there alongside other
quotes from an almost comically
diverse group of writers and
public
figures,
which
the
warmongering
Rumsfeld
is
a part of. Quotes from Ruth
Bader Ginsburg, George Carlin,
Khaled Hosseini and Aaron
Sorkin overfill this whiteboard
in fading dry-erase colors.
And as an avid reader and
writer, I like to think they
serve as reminders about how
effective written and verbal
communication can be within
our world.
No matter how poorly others
may think of my writing, I
take pride in my efforts when
attempting to thread together
words and thoughts in order to
inspire emotion and motivation
within my readers (see my
article “We smug liberals”).
And if I could do anything in
the world, it would be writing
speeches for a future president
of the United States.
Yet, this passion I have
for writing is restricted to a
single language. I have not
truly expanded these skills
and talents into anything other
than English.
Sure, as LSA students here,
we are required to develop
proficiency
in
a
foreign
language. And most likely,
many of us, after years of
tepid practice in elementary
and high school, develop a
beginner’s
fluency
in
our
language of study. But in the
overall spectrum of our higher
education, the courses are not
properly
stressed
as
being
equal to the core requirements
for our degrees — but they
should be.
The importance of another
language
is
paramount
in
the rapidly changing world.
Physical distance no longer
matters as the instantaneous
connection between countries
continues to expose us to
new
people,
cultures
and
economies.
Participating in this new
hyper-connected
world
requires
learning
new
languages in order to break
down the final barriers holding
us
back
from
connections
across the globe.
America has a language skills
problem.
My
self-absorbed
story at this university is not
even remotely exclusive. Across
the country, foreign language
is viewed as secondary to the
more emphasized core courses
within education.
The Atlantic published a
piece last year that highlighted
the ineffective way in which
our education system teaches
foreign languages throughout
the
country.
The
author,
Amelia Friedman, argued that
foreign language courses are
not prioritized, which has a
massive impact on students
early on. The secondary level at
which we value these courses
prevents the proper funding,
emphasis and applicability of
learning a new language within
schools early on.
This lack of prioritization
creates low enrollment levels
in which a cycle emerges where
fewer students study a foreign
language, and less work is put
in to promote such courses.
And
even
the
languages
that
are
studied
are
still
primarily European and not
applicable of the emerging
global markets. According to
Friedman’s article, “In 2013,
roughly 198,000 U.S. college
students were taking a French
course; just 64, on the other
hand, were studying Bengali.
Yet, globally, 193 million people
speak Bengali, while 75 million
speak French.”
Mandarin, Arabic, Bengali
and Hindi — all languages on
which we place less emphasis,
despite them being some of
the most widely spoken in the
world. All these languages
of peoples and markets are
ready to be connected to, but
only if these communication
barriers
could
be
more
effectively broken.
In totality, the academic
culture we learn in can make
people feel intimidated when
they attempt to learn a foreign
language. According to Richard
Brecht, the founding executive
director and founder of the
Center for Advanced Study of
Language at the University of
Maryland, “It isn’t that people
don’t think language education
important. It’s that they don’t
think it’s possible.” Learning
a new language is challenging,
and maintaining it is even more
difficult within the United
States, as there is often a lack
of opportunities to practice
and maintain such skills.
But the world has shrunk; the
globalized economies we live in
can provide such connections.
Prioritizing foreign languages
would further encourage us to
study these courses and be able
to transfer such skills to the
professional world.
To be clear, the teachers
and instructors are not the
ones at fault here. Personally
speaking,
here
at
the
University of Michigan, I have
had some of the most hard-
working, passionate and caring
instructors who deeply cared
about students gaining this
immensely resourceful skill,
and I know fellow students
who have felt the same way
about other instructors.
I
just
wish
there
was
greater emphasis placed on
this
requirement,
not
only
in college and high school,
but far earlier on within our
elementary classrooms as well.
I take pride in my writing
and communication, but I have,
in the most underachieving
way, restricted myself from
billions of others in our world.
There is another quote on
my
whiteboard
that
comes
from George Carlin. He was
once said: “Language is the
most
elementary
aspect
to
our
humanness,
probably.
In addition to that, it’s the
embodiment, it’s the apotheosis
of the human experience, it’s the
way we summarize ourselves.”
Learn another language; the
world is a small place.
Leah Schneck is a Senior in the
Residential College
Join me in
demnading the
University deny
Spencer’s request
LUCAS MAIMAN | COLUMN
The importance
of another
language is
paramount
There is a wealth
of potential for
us to seize on
campus
— Sen. John McCain, R-Ariz., after recent sexual assault
allegations against Senate candidate Roy Moore
“
NOTABLE QUOTABLE
“He should immediately
step aside and allow the
people of Alabama to elect a
candidate they can be proud
of. ”
”
Lucas Maiman can be reached at
lmaiman@umich.edu.
Michael Mordarski can be reached
at mmordars@umich.edu.