L
ast week, I got my ear
pierced. I had wanted
to do it for several days
before, to change up my look — to
try something new.
There was, in other
words,
no
larger,
existential reasoning
behind this desire,
no deeper truth I
thought a piercing
would illuminate or
help me enact.
But I was wrong.
In the ensuing days,
I’ve begun to regard
my piercing as a sort
of imprint on my own body. I’d
never physically changed myself
in such a permanent way before.
After haircuts, sometimes I’d feel
like a new person, walking down
the street with a new swagger
— or, if things went badly, with a
new necessity to hide my face. But
regardless, hair would always grow
back and take its same afro-like
shape that is a consequence, I am
told, of my Jewish heritage.
I see myself in the mirror now
and I see a body on which I have
made my own imprint. I was
given my body and the life that
accompanies it by some existential
level of chance, seed and egg
meeting and floating off together.
But now, my body has become
my own. And I love this feeling,
that there are ways to increase
the amount of control I have over
my life. That I can become more
myself, more in touch with my
own predilections and identities,
and that as I do this, I get to better
know myself through spontaneous,
everyday actions. It did not require
some profound shift in my everyday
habits to feel this way.
I feel ready to find more ways
to manufacture this feeling. To
own my own life, in other words.
To seek out instances in which
my life can become more my own,
not just the predetermined default
setting that was given to me by
incomprehensible
coincidences
that I did nothing to bring about.
And in the days since I got my
piercing, this feeling has manifested
itself in other ways. I have begun
to write a play, which I hope can
be performed in Ann Arbor at the
end of next term, when I will also
be graduating. In the play, I see
an opportunity for a text that I
can forever look back on and say, I
wrote that there, during
that time. A text that
represents my time at the
University of Michigan.
I am studying abroad
this
semester,
but
before I came here, I
had planned to write a
traditional thesis — a
research essay guided
by a set of research
questions. But it has
been extremely difficult
to get in touch with advisers back
in Ann Arbor and to establish the
necessary consistent connection
to help overcome this distance
between me and familiar libraries,
professors and resources. Too
much work, I thought. Not worth
it, since it will distract from my
ability to be here. A feeling —
probably overstated — that these
advisers are too busy, or, at worst,
that they do not actually care
enough about my academic work
to engage with me, unless I am in
their office in person.
But the play I have now decided
to write demonstrates my taking
this wish to work into my own
hands. To occupy the space, left
vacant by both the silence from my
advisers and the physical distance
between me and Ann Arbor, in
creative ways that speak to my
own individuality.
I think this notion lies at the
center of what we call “growing
up.” That I, as a child, was cradled
and nourished and supported
by my upbringing — my family
and friends whom I love dearly.
That these relationships made
me entirely dependent on these
people, on these systems of
familiarity and comfort.
And these people and systems
are not constant. For example, Louis
C.K., a person whom I have described
to dozens of friends throughout my
childhood as the figure whose life I
would like to most closely emulate,
has just been exposed as a sexual
predator, creep and liar.
C.K.’s standup routines and
his Emmy-winning TV show
portray a certain honest humanity
that I always found powerfully
endearing
and
refreshing:
a
messy, smelly, morally ambiguous
portrayal of human life that I often
felt reflected my own everyday
experience grappling with my own
insecurities and incapabilities.
But C.K.’s honesty, as it turns
out, was merely a mask for his
systematic
manipulation
and
deceit of the women he assaulted.
As he told stories of his own
masturbatory fantasies onstage,
to an audience of millions, we can
only now begin to understand
the ways in which these fantasies
manifested
themselves.
It
is
sickening
to
imagine
C.K.’s
personal fetish being fulfilled
by his unknowing, relentlessly
laughing audience.
The social death of this personal
hero provides an opportunity for me
to emerge more singularly myself. It
allows me to define my own desires
and values, and not rely upon
somebody else, who, as it has turned
out, I did not know at all.
And of course, I’m still more
dependent on my upbringing than
the vast majority of people have the
privilege to be. My family allows
me to explore all my interests. They
fund my education, for which I
am endlessly grateful. My friends,
many of whom I have known my
entire life, know me better than I
know myself. And they can provide
me with indispensable reminders
of encouragement and love.
But this increasing sentiment
of self-ownership shifts how I
understand my background. I want
to approach it as a springboard
to leap into the world, to treat the
people and the world that raised
me as safety nets to fall back on if
and when the world treats me, as
my academic advisers did, with
silence; to trust in the power of
this love; to know that it exists,
regardless of physical distance;
and to use this trust as a tool
for empowerment, to ignite my
transformation into an individual
who continues to make imprints —
both physical and intellectual — on
my own life.
“T
hey treat me like
Cinderella
around
here,”
I
once
exaggerated when I was little. I was
never too interested
in the general idea of
princesses, but they’re
a staple in the media
diet of young girls.
They line the toy
aisles and are one
of the main focuses
of children’s movies
and TV shows, so
they’re easy for kids to
connect with.
Despite
their
prevalence, children’s movies that
feature princesses fail to capture and
showcase a range of experiences and
backgrounds. While the princess
narrative usually brings to mind a
helpless maiden waiting for a man
to save her, like Snow White or
Sleeping Beauty, there is a chance
for the narrative to instead teach
young girls to learn important values
like determination, ambition and
bravery and feature characters from
diverse backgrounds.
Among the hordes of remakes
of Cinderella, only a select few
put women of color in the iconic
role. I recently watched one of
these, Rodgers & Hammerstein’s
“Cinderella” from 1997, for the
first time in over a decade. When
I was little, I remember going to
day camp and always asking to
watch that movie when we had to
stay inside. I’m sure this irritated
everyone, but this was my movie
when I was in elementary school
and rewatching it showed me why
I was so drawn to it. First of all,
there’s so much color. It makes it
easy to understand why I wanted
to watch it all the time — the
visuals are stunning. The ornate
fabrics that the characters wear
are beautiful and the color scheme
for the ball scene is mesmerizing.
I wanted to wear all the fancy,
funky dresses — especially the
one Cinderella, played by actress
and singer Brandy, wore at the
ball. The visuals pair brilliantly
with the music. The songs and
dance
numbers
are
the definition of extra:
they’re hilarious, over
the top and they stay in
your head for at least a
week. When you have
Whitney
Houston
singing in a movie, you
know the songs will
become
iconic.
The
song “Impossible” has
been stuck in my head
since I heard it in the
early 2000s.
What was most important for me
in elementary school was how diverse
the cast was. It featured Whoopi
Goldberg, Whitney Houston, Paolo
Montalbán and Brandy. It’s funny
how this movie had no problem
casting actors of colors while most
movies, including the more recent
2015 adaptation of “Cinderella,”
struggle to do this. Seeing a princess
that looked like me, Black with box
braids, and seeing a fairy godmother
with curly hair was rare and special.
Aside from the amazing score, scenes,
colors and hilarity of the movie, the
image of Brandy as Cinderella has
stuck with me since I was little. I,
like every child, looked to find myself
among the images on the screen and
in books. “Cinderella” gave me a
character to identify with, unlike most
media produced in the early 2000s.
The
1997
adaptation
of
“Cinderella”
went
against
the
standard of most Disney movies
and princess movies of the time —
but it was only one of a few movies
that starred a woman of color. After
seeing Disney’s animated renditions
of “Cinderella,” “Snow White,”
“Sleeping Beauty” and “The Little
Mermaid” too many times on ABC
Family, I felt that Disney was long
overdue to release a movie about a
Black princess.
Disney finally delivered in 2009
with the release of “The Princess
and the Frog.” I was too old to aspire
to be a princess; they didn’t hold as
important a part in my life as they
did when I was little. But Tiana
spoke to whom I hoped to become.
She was smart, worked hard and
was hopeful. In most narratives that
involve women, especially princess
narratives, the woman waits for a
man to save her. But Tiana used her
intelligence to save herself and that
knuckleheaded prince who turned
her into a frog.
You can say that princesses and
princess movies are silly and that they
are not worth paying attention to, but
they are part of a larger discussion
about what values we instill in
children, especially young girls
who make up the target audience.
Movies like the 1997 adaptation of
“Cinderella,” “The Princess and the
Frog” and “Mulan” incorporate the
stories of different cultures and areas
into media consumed by elementary
school children.
This gives them the opportunity
to see themselves reflected in
characters and also learn about
other cultures. Evaluating which
lessons these movies teach children
is just as important as ensuring
that the stories told are diverse and
include characters from different
racial or ethnic backgrounds. Are
these movies emphasizing the old-
school princess tropes of waiting for
“true love” or “Prince Charming”
to solve everything or do they focus
on the importance of standing up
for yourself and individuality like
in “The Princess and the Frog” and
“Brave”? I want the word “princess”
redefined; instead of the negative
connotation it has of a “fair maiden”
waiting for everything to be done
for her, it should come to mean an
independent, strong, courageous
person of any skin tone.
Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Wednesday, November 15, 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
Princess
COREY DULIN | COLUMN
Imprints of an individual
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
Election wins should embolden Democrats
NOAH HARRISON | COLUMN
S
ave for a special Senate
race in Alabama, the 2017
election cycle has come
and gone. With only a handful of
governorships and state legislature
seats up for election, the 2017 cycle
will ultimately have a minimal
immediate impact on the balance
of power. Yet, it nonetheless
provides a significant gauge of
current
political
sentiments
nearly a year into Donald Trump’s
presidency.
Furthermore,
it
validates
the
Democrats’
opposition to President Trump
and congressional Republicans as
a legitimate strategy.
The Democratic Party assuaged
many of the lingering concerns
from their string of special
election defeats earlier this year
with a dominant performance. In
the two most high-profile races
of the night, the party reclaimed
and retained the New Jersey and
Virginia governorships. Though
victory in New Jersey was widely
expected, in Virginia, Democrat
Ralph Northam won by nine
points despite polls projecting a
closer race.
Though less covered by the
media, Democrats made massive
gains
in
state
legislatures,
retaking the Washington state
Senate
and
possibly
gaining
control of the Virginia House
of Delegates, depending on the
final vote tallies in several still-
uncalled districts. This success
in state elections is of particular
interest
to
the
Democratic
National Committee, given the
Democratic Party’s loss of over
1,000
state
legislative
seats
nationwide since 2008.
Collectively,
these
victories
will potentially yield dividends
in 2020, when congressional
districts are redrawn. Perhaps a
more meaningful, if less tangible,
result is the validation of the
Democrats’ vigorous and unified
opposition
to
the
legislative
agenda of President Trump and
congressional Republicans.
This
strategy
most
visibly
manifested itself in the Democrats’
loud and bitter opposition to the
Republican Party’s many efforts
over the past year to “repeal and
replace” Obamacare. None of the
plans put forward by the GOP
garnered any Democratic support,
but rather prompted Democrats
to launch a massive publicity
campaign aimed at mobilizing
the populace against the bill and
securing the opposition of moderate
Republicans like Susan Collins,
John McCain and Lisa Murkowski.
Though it was the opposition
of these moderate Republicans
that ultimately doomed every
iteration of the GOP’s health care
bill to be put before the Senate, the
coordinated and unified opposition
of
congressional
Democrats
certainly contributed. In fact, Sen.
McCain, R-Ariz., whose eleventh-
hour opposition killed one of the
GOP’s most promising attempts,
the “skinny repeal,” cited the
universal opposition of Democrats
as a reason for his position. He
asserted that health care legislation
should not be passed on “a party-
line basis.”
Furthermore,
the
extended
battle over health care drew voters’
attention to the issue and sharply
increased public opposition to GOP
repeal-and-replace plans. Though
GOP efforts to repeal Obamacare
limped on into September, at this
point, Obamacare portends to
remain the law of the land for the
foreseeable future.
Trump’s
historically
low
approval ratings, coupled with the
GOP’s equally abysmal favorability
marks, had already lent credence to
the tactics employed by Democrats
during the health care debate.
However, the past week’s elections
further justified this strategy of
defiant opposition and should give
Democrats confidence in upcoming
political battles, including the
GOP’s proposed tax plan.
That tax plan, in which the
Congressional
Budget
Office
projects will add $1.7 trillion to the
national debt and primarily benefit
the wealthiest Americans, is ripe
for criticism. Since the House
and Senate have already passed
budgets for 2018, Republicans
do not seem poised to enact
conservative tax reform.
Though tax reform would
greatly please top Republican
donors, it likely will be less well-
received by the electorate as a
whole, especially given that the
bill could actually raise taxes on
many middle-class Americans.
Its potential passage portends
to develop into another political
liability
that
Democrats
can
exploit in 2018.
Though
the
notion
that
Democrats would be united
and resolute in their opposition
to Trump may seem obvious,
Democrats
often
splintered
during
contentious
debates
over Trump’s nominees — even
in the earlier months of the
Trump administration, when
Trump’s mandate was arguably
at its peak. Understandably,
red-state Democrats considered
vulnerable in 2018 — such as
Sens. Joe Manchin in West
Virginia, Heidi Heitkamp in
North Dakota and Joe Donnelly
of Indiana — felt a need to
protect themselves. They broke
themselves party ranks to vote
in favor of some of Trump’s more
controversial Cabinet nominees
like Jeff Sessions, Scott Pruitt
and Ben Carson. These three
senators were also the only
Democrats to vote to confirm
Neil Gorsuch’s nomination to
Supreme Court.
Since
these
confirmation
battles, Sens. Nancy Pelosi and
Chuck Schumer have successfully
kept the party united. This task
will presumably only get easier in
the wake of last week’s elections,
which should dispel notions about
the Democratic Party’s supposed
inability win elections.
The Democratic Party emerges
from the 2017 elections with
only marginally more political
power, but a clear blueprint for
the 2018 midterms and beyond.
The
Democrats
are
by
no
means guaranteed to perform
well in 2018 — continued party
infighting or unforeseen political
developments could easily derail
Democratic
momentum.
But
the party can move forward
emboldened with the knowledge
that appeasing President Trump
is unnecessary and perhaps even
counterproductive to achieving
electoral success.
These races were not direct
referendums
on
the
Trump
administration
or
the
GOP-
controlled
Congress,
yet
the
Democratic sweep still reflects
the President’s mandate to govern
is weakening. Those dissatisfied
with the current balance of power
appear motivated, representing
an ominous sign for Republicans.
The Democratic Party should
enter 2018 confident that their
unwavering
opposition
to
President Trump and his agenda
will yield both legislative and
electoral victories.
Corey Dulin can be reached at
cydulin@umich.edu.
ISAIAH ZEAVIN-MOSS | COLUMN
Isaiah Zeavin-Moss can be reached
at izeavinm@umich.edu.
Noah Harrison can be reached at
noahharr@umich.edu.
SARAH NEFF | CONTACT SARAH AT SANE@UMICH.EDU
ISAIAH
ZEAVIN-MOSS
COREY
DULIN