6 — Thursday, November 30, 2017
Michigan in Color
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Call to Action 4 Instructors
to say ‘no’ to Spencer’s visit
Marginalized identity in
‘The Shape of Water’
A home away from home
University
of
Michigan
faculty,
graduate
student
instructors,
research
assistants and staff:
We are writing this to
request that you to cancel
classes Nov. 30 to pressure
the administration to refuse
to allow Richard Spencer to
speak on campus, as well as
show leniency to marginalized
students
who
have
been
affected by our oppressive
campus
environment
throughout the rest of the
semester.
The recent decision to “begin
discussions
with
Richard
Spencer’s group to determine
whether he will be allowed to
rent space” on the University
of
Michigan’s
campus
demonstrates,
as
we
have
learned time and time again,
the administration’s refusal to
truly prioritize the needs and
safety of its students. Though
President
Mark
Schlissel
stated “if we cannot assure a
reasonably safe setting for the
event, we will not allow it to
go forward,” Spencer’s history
shows us there is no “safe”
setting possible when white
supremacists and neo-Nazis
are given permission to come
to college campuses.
On
this
campus
alone,
marginalized students are in
danger of hate crimes every
day, from white supremacist
flyers,
spray
paint
asking
to “Free Dylann Roof” and
the n-word written on door
signs.
The
University
has
not been able to catch any
of these perpetrators, nor to
prevent
such
attacks
from
happening. There is no history
or precedent of Schlissel being
able to “assure a reasonable
safe setting” within his own
campus, let alone if Spencer
chooses to come here. Howell,
only
33
minutes
away,
is
known as a base of the Ku
Klux Klan. Michigan has one
of the largest armed civilian
militias in the country, whose
members engage in violent
white
supremacist
rhetoric.
These groups, and numerous
others, will show up and harm
marginalized
students
on
campus. They have not failed
to do so in the past.
Students
come
to
the
University to attend classes
and learn. When individuals
like
Richard
Spencer
and
his followers are allowed to
convene on campus, there is
inherently a barrier created
for marginalized students just
trying to exist and receive
an education. The academic
integrity of this institution
will always be in question
when portions of students are
denied the right to safety on
campus –– this denial only
exacerbates the inequities that
already exist at the University
of Michigan.
At
the
very
root,
this
university should exist to serve
every one of its students, and
it is not doing so if students
are forced to skip class and
schoolwork in order to advocate
for their fundamental human
rights. In allowing Spencer to
come, students are forced to do
work (for free) that Schlissel
and administrators are paid to
do and continually fail to do.
This is not even including the
mental and physical toll that it
takes to have to face oppression
here every day.
These
are
simple
requests. We ask that you
stand in solidarity with us,
marginalized
folx
across
campus
and
the
broader
community,
by
canceling
class, discussions, labs and
any other academic obligations
on Thursday, Nov. 30, 2017.
Alongside this we ask that
students
get
the
leniency
needed to successfully finish
the term, given the reality that
our campus, classes, homes,
residence halls and community
have
continually
remained
unsafe. Students are unable
to academically succeed when
they are forced to fight to exist
on this campus.
Students4Justice and other
organizers
We
understand
that
leniency
for
marginalized
students can be interpreted
in many different ways. Our
overall goal in this ask is for
these students to be given a
fair chance to succeed in their
classes, because the current
campus climate places them
at a disadvantage. Below are
some potential ideas that we
have used our labor and time
to come up with:
• Waived class attendance
requirements or more
excused absences
• Extensions on assignments
• Create spaces in classes to
talk about events
• Make assignments more
relevant to campus/world
climate
• Provide alternate
assignments and
opportunities for students
to receive credit
• Ask students what they
need to be successful in the
course given everything
that has happened (do not
target students who you
feel like are “more” likely
to be affected. E.g., Black
students, brown students,
etc. Those assumptions
can cause more harm than
good)
• Make yourself available
and approachable for
students to ask for
assistance
• Read the news in order to
keep yourself updated, so
you can come into class
with prior knowledge
and not force students to
explain everything
STUDENTS4JUSTICE
and OTHER ORGANIZERS
MiC Contributor
When most people think
of home, they often think of
a warm and cozy place filled
with loved ones, light and
home cooked meals.
But
what
always
comes
to my mind are small rocks
and slabs of concrete painted
bright green and a dark, rusty
red. This is all that remains of
my father’s house in Jaffna,
Sri Lanka — the house that I
would have grown up in and
the house that I would have
called mine. What is left of
my father’s house has melded
with the soil, indistinguishable
from the earth it once stood
upon, as if it never existed in
the first place.
Most people would not find
solace in a pile of ruins. But I
did. And I still do.
A seemingly trivial mass
of rocks, rubble and concrete
grounds me, reminding me
of my heritage. Each shard
represents my roots, my family,
my identity, my ethnicity. And
so, I refuse to look at them as
broken and meaningless.
Tupac once wrote about a
“rose that grew from a crack
in the concrete.” While I’m not
sure that I can ever be that rose,
I hope to be the roots growing
underneath the concrete that
supports
my
family
while
bringing awareness to some
of the experiences within the
Tamil diaspora.
I won’t ever know what it
would have been like to grow
up in Northern Sri Lanka and
I recognize that I have had the
immense privilege of not being
raised in a war-torn country.
But at the end of the day, a
mound of rocks and concrete
will always be my home away
from home.
SIVANTHY VASANTHAN
Senior MiC Editor
Guillermo
del
Toro,
a
Mexican-American
film
director
and
writer,
is
renowned
for
his
hybrid
genres, weaving fairy tales
with dark, haunting imagery
of the sexual, religious and
taboo.
From
his
award-
winning Spanish gothic films
like “Pan’s Labyrinth” to his
supernatural-robot-monster
stories like “Pacific Rim” and
“Hellboy,” del Toro has made
himself a household name
in an industry traditionally
dominated by The Whites. His
upcoming film, “The Shape of
Water,” is set to be released in
December. But unlike most of
his past works, he has made its
underlying messages clear. In
a Q&A session with Michigan
in Color, del Toro explained
his messages and intentions to
promote the upcoming film.
“The Shape of Water”
is set in the Cold War era
and
follows
government
laboratory cleaner Elisa (Sally
Hawkins,
“Paddington
2”)
as she encounters a captured
Amazonian,
an
amphibious
creature called “the Asset.” The
story details the two falling in
love. Her attempt to break the
Asset out of its imprisonment,
with co-worker Zelda (Octavia
Spencer,
“The
Help”)
and
next-door
neighbor
Giles
(Richard Jenkins, “Comrade
Detective”),
is
obstructed
by
the
violence
of
secret
Soviet spy Robert Hoffstetler
(Michael
Stuhlbarg,
“The
Looming
Tower”)
and
abusive
American
Colonel
Richard Strickland (Michael
Shannnon, “Pottersville”). Del
Toro expands on his choice for
the Cold War as a backdrop and
what details the setting offers.
“I think that movies that
happen
anywhere,
matter
nowhere; movies that happen
anytime, matter at no time.
Storytellers choose the place
they take place in, and the
time they take place in, very
carefully and very specifically,
del Toro said. “I think for me
is of course, the Cold War, and
the Space Race, of course, but
it is the last fairy tale time in
America — a time in which
America kind of dreams itself
into what we conceive as the
modern America. The media
is shaping the consciousness
and the identity of the country
and you have a candidate in
the White House be a damage
yet to escalate, and you have
suburban wealth everywhere:
cars in every garage, TV,
kitchens,
petticoats
and
hairspray. It’s really a time of
great hope for the future. In
fact, we become so obsessed
with the idea of the future,
and I thought that and the
Cold War were the perfect
settings to bring a creature
from the ancient past and a
love story in a time of difficult
communication.”
Del Toro’s plain political
commentary comes from the
treatment of the Asset, who
is tortured and abused by
high-status white men simply
because they are different.
He calls it a representation of
“The Other.”
“Also the movie is a movie
about our problems today and
about demonizing The Other
and about fearing or hating
The Other, and how that is
a
much
more
destructive
position than learning to love
and understand,” del Toro said.
“I thought, well, if I thought
about today, there are two
topics all over the news, we get
it in the news, in social media,
but if I say, ‘Once upon a time,
this language, we used it too’ —
this is a fairy tale for troubled
times, and people can lower
their guard a little bit more,
and listen to the story and
listen to the characters and
talk about the issues, and the
circumstance of the issues.”
Something less prominent,
but equally important, are the
identities of the characters.
Protagonist Elisa is mute, but
her disability does not render
her character flat. She is still
presented as a whole human
being, with adult sexual desires
and
emotional
capabilities.
The film manages to capture
her romance with the Asset in
its fullest sense without verbal
communication — a feat which
del Toro detailed in the Q&A.
“The first thing is that I
think that words can lie but
looks cannot. I wanted to have
characters that were able to
communicate to the audience
their emotions and their love
through
looks,
touch,
and
body language and essence,
because it’s impossible to talk
about love,” del Toro said. “You
can sing about love but you
cannot talk. And the idea is
that Sally, the main character
Elisa, and the creature have
this in common: They are not
looked at as complete beings,
and yet they are. They are
reduced to ideologies or ideas
that are more reductive in
complexity, to the point that
the creature is actually read
by different people as different
things throughout the film.
For the antagonist Strickland,
he is read as a filthy thing that
came from South America;
for the Russian scientist, he
is seen as the magic of nature
and science; to Elisa, he is
part of her essence, that she
recognizes.
And
for
Elisa,
she is read as different things
for
different
characters.
For Octavia Spencer, she is
basically a listener to her in
her monologue; for Giles, she
is almost like a daughter; and
for Strickland, she is a woman
that he wants to dominate, or
he thinks he controls because
she is under his employment.
And she is much more than
that. The only one that sees
Elisa exactly as she is, without
seeing her incomplete, is the
creature, is this elemental god
from the Amazon that is as
much a singularity as she is.
“There is also a monologue
in the movie, that Elisa has;
it is a gesture monologue, a
sign-language
monologue,
that
plays
much
stronger
with her emotions than being
channeled
by
words.
Her
eyes are more hungry, there’s
more emotion, her body — her
sentiment vibrates through her
body — and it is really quite a
powerful scene because she
cannot talk.”
Between
amphibian
sex,
shoot-outs in the rain and
deep spiritual poetry, del Toro
does
what
many
big-name
Hollywood
directors
have
not: He manages to represent
marginalized
identities
without making it the crutch
of the whole plot. Elisa might
be mute, but her disability
does not affect the voice she
has in the film; Zelda is a
Black woman, without being
the Black woman the film
depends on to make a political
statement; Giles is closeted as
gay, but his sexuality does not
define his entire presence on
screen. The characters own
their identities rather than
the other way around, and
the subtle change stands out.
And when that is all stated
and acknowledged, there is
still so much more to take
apart and analyze — from the
color choices of the sets and
costumes to the production
techniques and inclusion of
monologues and spoken word.
When the misrepresentation
of marginalized communities
in film are widespread, “The
Shape of Water” proves one
very important thing: You can
still be inclusive and make a
good movie. Period.
STEFFI CAO
MiC Columnist
Courtsey of Sivanthy Vasanthan
Sivanthy and her family standing on what remains of her father’s house.
Andrea Sahouri: I Am
I am Palestinian.
Scratch that
Ana Falastinieh
Yeah — that’s better
It’s more than just a word
I am the olive trees that
flourish in Palestinian soil
The soul of our country
I am the mish mish my Teta
grows in Bethlehem
She knows they are my favorite
I
am
the
Tutreez
min
Filasteen
Beautifully embroidered into
our culture
I am the jewelry from the old
city of Jerusalem
History made by Palestinians
Both pain and pride
Worn
by
the
bodies
of
Palestinian women
I am the stomps of the dabkeh
We exist
And the patterns of the
kuffiyeh
We will resist
We sing the song of revolution
To exist is to resist
Ana Falastinieh
Ana Falastinieh
Ana Falastinieh
I am a Palestinian woman.
Scratch that
Ana bint Falastinieh
Yeah — much better
God’s
glory
on
Earth
encompassed within women
Abused
during
war
and
exploited by greed
The strongest fight hard
And suffer the hardest
Today’s news:
Yet another mother in Palestine
Buries yet another father, son,
brother
Tomorrow’s news:
Yet another mother in Palestine
denied access to travel
Gave birth at a checkpoint
Yet again, no survivors
I suffer with my people. My
women.
My mother.
I am haunted by the image of
my mother being stripped
By the hands of a man who
was not my father
Ignoring the wet from the
tears that fell onto his hands
I remember the voice of the
man telling her she cannot enter
Filasteen
She cannot go home
The anger behind his voice …
It still rings in my head
I learned at a young age
The strength of Palestinian
women
I am angry
Scratch that
Ana ghadbaneh
Do you understand me now?
I am told I cannot be angry
My people are being killed by
the thousands
Displaced by the millions
I
am
told
my
existence
requires dialogue —
As if dialogue has solved
anything
As if dialogue was not just a
scapegoat to keep those in power
Stay in power
Dialogue
masks
our
oppression
It does not liberate us
But we are strong.
We are the stomps of the
dabkeh,
We are the patterns of the
kuffiyeh,
Our women sing the song of
revolution
Ana ghadbaneh.
To exist is to resist
Ana bint Falastinieh
No one can take that away
from me.
No one can take that away
from us.
ANDREA SAHOURI
MiC Columnist
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