Particularly 
troubling 

for students, the GOP tax 
bill 
greatly 
undervalues 

education. For one, student 
loan repayment will no longer 
be tax deductible. Currently, 
44 million borrowers owe $1.3 
trillion in student loan debt in 
the U.S. As such, this legislation 
would make a college education 
much more unaffordable for the 
average American. 

Graduate 
education 
takes 

a 
much 
bigger 
hit. 
Under 

the Section 117 (d)(5) of the 
House 
tax 
plan, 
graduate 

school tuition waivers will be 
considered 
taxable 
income, 

rendering an already meager 
income 
unlivable. 
Given 

most 
graduate 
students 

receive 
funding 
primarily 

through teaching or research 
assistantships, 
taxing 
these 

waivers as income may make 
pursuing graduate education 
financially 
difficult 
for 

students, particularly students 
of lower socioeconomic status.

This legislation relies on 

a misunderstanding of what 
a graduate level education 
actually is. Graduate students 
do not get paid for sitting in 
classrooms all day; rather, 
teaching 
and 
contributing 

to 
research 
serve 
as 

indispensable parts of the 
graduate 
education. 
This 

work 
is 
notoriously 
time-

demanding 
and 
deserving 

of compensation. As such, 
the United States’s research 
productivity — particularly 

in the sciences — will likely 
take a big hit, because it isn’t 
unreasonable for prospective 
graduate 
students, 
who 

conduct much of the research 
done in the U.S., to look abroad 
for their graduate degrees or 
forgo earning one altogether. 

The economic justifications 

for the GOP tax plan reflect 
a flawed knowledge of the 
efficacy of economic policies. 
The tax plan will add anywhere 
between $1.5 trillion and $1.7 
trillion to the deficit and, 
while many senators argue 
the added economic activity 
will make up for the increase, 
most 
economists 
disagree. 

This, in conjunction with the 
prioritization of corporations 
in 
the 
plan, 
illustrates 

Republicans’ 
continued 

adherence 
to 
the 
concept 

of 
trickle-down 
economics. 

Their support of this economic 
idealogy signifies a disregard 
for the popular consensus in 
the economic community of 
the fallacies of the success of 
these policies.

Nevertheless, even if we 

assumed 
that 
trickle-down 

economics 
were 
a 
viable 

solution, the tax plan is still 
flawed. The writers of the 
bill justify treating graduate 
school 
tuition 
waivers 
as 

taxable income by saying it 
is 
non-spendable 
and 
will 

therefore not contribute to 
increasing economic activity. 
However, higher enrollment 
costs will likely cause graduate 

school enrollment rates to 
fall, stalling any potential for 
trickle down before it can even 
begin, as fewer people overall 
will have degrees that will give 
them more money to spend in 
the economy.

Additionally, 
this 
tax 

bill fails people outside of 
higher educational contexts. 
The reduction in corporate 
tax rates will prioritize the 
needs 
of 
large 
corporate 

interests over the needs of the 
most 
vulnerable, 
including 

students 
and 
people 
of 

lower socioeconomic status. 
Everyday workers will see less 
economic activity, and will 
be subject to higher costs in 
many areas.

For example, teachers and 

medical 
professionals 
will 

no longer be able to write off 
expenses 
for 
supplies 
and 

other 
expenses 
they 
incur 

at work. Furthermore, the 
removal 
of 
the 
Individual 

Health 
Insurance 
Mandate, 

a part of Obamacare, would 
likely lead to higher insurance 
prices across the board. This 
plan will strip Americans of 
needed health care coverage 
while funneling savings to the 
wealthiest corporate interests.

This is a bad tax plan 

overall 
and 
works 
against 

our country’s ideals. We urge 
the Senate to change these to 
protect not only the interests 
of 
graduate 
students, 
but 

also of the general American 
population.

A

s all new years begin, 
resolutions are created. 
So, as the fall semester 

approached this year, a few 
friends and I made a resolution 
to be more physically active this 
semester. Whether it was to walk 
more, bike, run or attend cycling 
and yoga classes, we planned to 
encourage each other to see this 
resolution through.

With the intention to be a 

more active human, when I heard 
the news that my housemates 
were 
deciding 
to 
form 
an 

intramural soccer team in the 
non-competitive league, I jumped 
at the chance to join. The last 
time I played soccer was in sixth 
grade when everyone made the 
team. I didn’t make the team the 
following year in seventh grade 
because I kept tripping over my 
feet during the scrimmage game 
in tryouts. This would be a great 
shot for my second try where I 
could be active and put myself 
outside of my comfort zone.

I have never called myself an 

athlete, but I have always tried 
my best because I love being a 
part of a team. Arriving at our first 
game, I could feel butterflies in my 
stomach walking toward the field 
of players. My team of housemates 
began warming up and passing 
the ball back and forth with skill 
and finesse. I was shocked by their 
abilities, energy and talent. I soon 
realized that most have played 
soccer competitively and our 
team of competitors shared these 
characteristics as well.

In general, competitive sports 

have an ability to bond people. 
People could have nothing in 
common, but with a ball and a 
net, individuals from drastically 
different 
lives 
can 
share 
a 

common goal wanting their team 
to win. To me, framing sports in 
this light makes athleticism sound 

quite beautiful. And there I see the 
greatness in this team camaraderie 
and lessons individuals can learn 
from group cooperation. But this 
doesn’t mean competitive sports 
are for everyone.

The game began and I was on 

the sidelines, anxiously hoping 
there was some way I didn’t have 
to sub for someone who was in. But 
with time, one of my teammates 
wanted some time to rest, and I 
tied up my borrowed cleats and 
ran in. My time on the field was a 
blur. My heart beat out of my chest 
as I ran up and down the field. I 
think I may have made contact 
with the ball once or twice. When 
the half was over, I was happy to 
go back on the sidelines.

When the game ended, I 

honestly felt traumatized by this 
small experience. I know that may 
sound dramatic. Looking around 
at my smiling teammates who 
gained so much joy from their 
time on the field, I reflected on my 
own feelings of panic and anxiety. 
At this point, I knew this wasn’t 
the right activity for me.

I spent the next week after 

the game hoping there was a 
way I didn’t have to play again. 
Luckily enough, I found myself 
with a horrible ingrown toenail 
from wearing borrowed cleats 
that were just too tight. With this 
strong excuse, I knew I would be 
able to sit out and not play. Sharing 
this news with my teammates, 
I felt a rush of embarrassment. 
I felt like I failed myself and the 
team. I didn’t want to leave my 
team at a disadvantage, but I 
knew playing again would only 
make me feel worse.

Normally, I find I’m a group-

oriented thinker, but in this case, I 
found that I needed to do what was 
best for myself. And I think overall 
this was better for the team. I 
still showed up to our games and 

drove a car full of teammates to 
the field. I even had a friend fill in 
for me and play very last minute. 
This way, I wasn’t putting myself 
in a situation that made me feel 
too uncomfortable because in that 
space one cannot grow.

In an effort to try new things 

and be active, I ended up feeling 
embarrassed and ashamed. I don’t 
think this feeling is necessary to 
be an active, social person. Since 
this event, I have been throwing 
myself 
into 
non-competitive 

physical activities like yoga and 
bike rides. Here I can still hold 
up my resolution and do it on my 
own terms.

It is important to remember 

we all have different skills that 
we bring into our group and team 
dynamics. I have found myself in 
similar settings in course group 
projects as well. A group relies 
on the strength of its individuals 
who are there for each other. 
In my projects where my group 
members cared for and valued 
each others’ ideas, skills and time, 
the group performed better and 
had better outcomes. If everyone 
makes an effort to think about the 
group first, the group will have a 
good outcome.

This indicates that we are 

only as strong as the strength 
of the individuals who make up 
our groups and teams. When we 
form this trust with our group 
members, we must do this with 
ourselves as well. When we 
know everyone is looking out 
for one another, the team trusts 
that you will take the time and 
energy 
for 
self-care. 
These 

group dynamics are complex, 
but with folks who care, it 
can truly make an impact for 
everyone involved.

Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Wednesday, November 22, 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

The team, the team, the team

ELLERY ROSENZWEIG | COLUMN

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

Ellery Rosenzweig can be reached at 

erosenz@umich.edu.

FROM THE DAILY

A bad tax plan overall

O

n Nov. 16, the House of Representatives passed their version 
of a tax bill. The bill aims to overhaul many Obama-era tax 
legislations, including the Obamacare health care mandate 

aimed at reducing overall health care costs, in order to facilitate tax 
breaks for the wealthiest Americans. Furthermore, the bill hurts 
those in higher education by implementing higher taxes on students. 
This tax bill is incredibly detrimental to students, the general U.S. 
population and the economy, and we urge the Senate to revise it entirely.

In my shoes

EMILY WOLFE | CONTACT EMILY AT ELWOLFE@UMICH.EDU

 
 
 

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

ast year, I was sitting in 
class and out of nowhere 
our 
graduate 
student 

instructor started talking about 
a case where football players 
sexually 
assaulted 
a 
female 

student at a Texas university. As I 
sat digesting what I was hearing, 
I could feel my face get hot, my 
heartbeat quicken. I could feel 
my eyes start to water. I knew 
I was about to cry but I held it 
in. Finally, we broke into small 
group discussions and I excused 
myself to go to the bathroom.

I had barely stepped into 

the hallway when I began to 
sob uncontrollably. My brain 
was simultaneously numb and 
overstimulated with a thousand 
different thoughts, and they 
were overwhelming me to the 
point that I had no idea what to 
do with myself. So, I paced. In 
those few moments, all of what 
had happened to me freshman 
year was made worse by the fact 
I had become visibly upset in 
public and in front of my peers.

To make matters worse, in 

an effort to hide my distress 
from my peers, I now had to try 
to conceal my meltdown from 
strangers in the hallway. I was 
trying to do the impossible: shut 
down memories that had a habit 
of reemerging up like the moles 
in that Whack-A-Mole game — 
erratically, suddenly and in the 
worst moments.

A few moments later, my GSI 

stepped out of the classroom to 
find me. For a little while, we sat 
together on the stairs silently.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. 

“I’m so, so sorry.” 

That was all she could say. I 

could tell she knew what had 
made me so upset, but because 
of her obligation as a GSI to 
report sexual violence, she 
didn’t say much more. And I 
thank her for that.

After some time, she had to 

go back to class before other 
students could wonder why she 
had disappeared for so long. I 
stayed put in the hallway.

She came back a little later 

with the belongings I’d left 
behind. She was kind and caring. 
I am grateful every day that I had 

a GSI as understanding as she 
was. But in that moment, I felt 
like a bug under a microscope 
— like every move I made was 
being watched.

When I finally started to head 

home, I walked at lightning speed 
to avoid human interaction at all 
costs. I had a meeting in less than 
an hour, but there was no way I 
was going to make it. Not in one 
piece, at least. So, after sending a 
vague and potentially alarming 
email to my professor, I crawled 
into bed. That’s where I stayed 
for a better part of the afternoon, 
feeling uncontrollably upset, as if 
what happened three years ago 
had happened yesterday.

***

My freshman year, I got a 

boy’s number at a party. A few 
months later, I went to his house. 
I hadn’t put everything together 
as I made my way over, but when 
I stepped into his room, I almost 
immediately 
started 
feeling 

scared and uneasy. I realized 
what was about to happen. But he 
was bigger in size, intimidatingly 
so. I didn’t know anyone in his 
house, and I knew I wouldn’t 
be able to figure out how to get 
home. I was trapped. So that’s 
where I stayed. Trapped.

This night turned my world 

completely upside down. For a 
while, I was almost always on 
edge, always looking around me 
to make sure he wasn’t there. 
I was startled by people who 
resembled him; I would begin to 
breath heavily, my face would get 
hot, my throat would constrict. 
I would hear my heartbeat in 
my ears. Now it’s gotten a little 
easier, but I still shudder when 
something reminds me of what 
happened or when a random 
thought of that night intrudes 
my headspace. And there are still 
moments when I think I’ve seen 
him and I panic.

“You look like you’ve seen a 

ghost,” one of my friends said 
to me one day after I could have 
sworn I saw him on the street. I 
smiled awkwardly.

“I’ve just had a day,” I told her.
The summer between my 

freshman and sophomore years 
was the hardest. I had only 
told one person about what 
happened, 
and, 
more 
than 

anything, I hated myself. I felt 
stupid and ashamed that I’d been 
in that situation, because I felt 
responsible. To this day, I still 

often question whether I could 
have done something differently.

That summer, I was very 

quiet and I stayed in bed a lot. 
There were times when I just 
felt overcome with sadness. I 
looked sad, too, and my mom 
would ask me if everything was 
alright. It wasn’t, but I told her it 
was. She and I are best friends, 
and I could tell she knew 
something was wrong, but just 
the thought of telling her sends 
me into a panic.

***

I can never be 100 percent 

sure what would have changed 
had I known beforehand what 
we were going to talk about 
that day in my discussion. But I 
do know I was not prepared. As 
a result, I couldn’t participate 
in the conversation. We should 
never shy away from talking 
about sexual assault because 
it’s important, but it’s equally 
important to give survivors 
the tools to allow them to 
comfortably talk about these 
things. Just a simple email or a 
note in the syllabus when a class 
is talking about a topic that could 
elicit a very emotional reaction 
would help immensely.

So, no. I don’t want trigger 

warnings so I can skip out on 
class. They aren’t so I can shelter 
myself. I’m not asking that we 
water down these important 
conversations to accommodate 
survivors. 
Trigger 
warnings 

would allow me to participate 
in these tough discussions with 
my peers because I would know 
what to expect.

When I found myself in this 

situation last semester, I had 
no time to stop for a moment 
and breathe. It was all hitting 
me like a train that I couldn’t 
stop. I was glued to the tracks 
and couldn’t step off. So, the 
next time you question the 
importance of trigger warnings 
or roll your eyes because you 
think that it’s politically correct 
culture “back at it again,” think 
about if you were me. What 
would you want?

ALEXIS

Alexis is an LSA senior.

This is the fifth piece in the 

Survivors Speak series, which 

seeks to share the varied, 

first-person experiences of survivors 

of sexual assault. 

