T

oday, many people say 
America is more divided 
than ever. We see it in 

our discourse, the slurs thrown 
at one another, the struggle for 
moral high ground and even 
the violence in our streets. 
When I see this, I lament the 
lack of interest in nuanced 
conversation and appreciation 
for context in every discussion. 
I welcome and continue to 
engage with truly different 
perspectives from my own. 

Though, when I do try to 

reach across the aisle to my more 
conservative friends, the complex 
personalization of our discourse 
and reliance on platitudes has 
made me realize that why we 
have 
different 
viewpoints, 

particularly in how we view the 
role of government, is unclear. 
There lie the age-old questions 
we saw during the Constitutional 
Convention: How large should 
the federal government be and, 
more importantly, how should 
one define its role? Through my 
conversations, I began to think a 
lot about what our government’s 
role should be, and I think the 
answer might lie in how we should 
approach issues like abortion.

As 
I 
have 
written 
about 

previously, I am a practicing 
Catholic. Many of my family 
friends are consistently single-
issue voters on a pro-life view. 
Though I am a moderate liberal, I 
have come to the conclusion that I 
am both pro-life and pro-choice. 
Now don’t be confused: This isn’t, 
and shouldn’t be, perceived as a 
black-and-white issue.

If I were sitting at an abortion 

clinic, discussing with my partner 
if we should consider getting an 
abortion, I would strongly lobby 
against doing so. This is because 
my decision would be based on my 
personal beliefs as a Catholic and 
someone who sees life separate 
from consciousness. Now this is 
all predicated on the notion that 
I was given the choice between 
moving forward in the procedure 
or stopping it.

However, when approaching 

policy, matters of reproduction 
and intimacy are, as Tim Kaine 
(a “traditional Catholic”) explains 
“moral decisions for individuals to 
make for themselves.” And this is 
just it: I should not develop policy 
simply based on my personal 
identities and issues. If I were a 
politician, I would approach my 

issues through logic and rationale, 
entirely separate from my identity 
as a Catholic or any other personal 
identity. Since we work as a 
society dependent on common 
ground, my identities should not 
be the entire basis for rationale in 
a political sphere, and nor should 
the id be a guiding principle in 
policy development.

Therefore, I arrive at this 

question: Is abortion a right or 
is the right based on the choice 
between receiving or not receiving 
an abortion? I would think it 
is the latter. This is where, I 
posit, we arrive at this notion 
of government: Its defining role 
(other than protecting the public) 
is to offer the easiest access of 
choice to the general population, 
which upon given a range of 
options, can then incorporate their 
personal identities and beliefs. 
This isn’t just for abortions; it 
should be for guns, health care 
and a variety of other issues. This 
is why pro-choice should exist: 
so that there is an even playing 
field and the decision for the best 
course of action can be left up to 
the couple or individual.

However, is the playing field 

actually even? Well, as abortion 
clinics are increasingly closing 
their doors, one can easily make 
the case that in some states, the 
playing field is not equal. Though 
much of this can be attributed 
to pro-life movements within 
state legislatures, I do question 
the general role of government in 
funding. One comment I hear my 
conservative friends (men and 
women) say is that they shouldn’t 
have to pay taxes that subsidize 
abortions.

Though I might disagree on 

the notion that their personal 
identities as a part of a particular 
religious group should influence 
their decision, I recognize, in a 
light similar to Citizens United, 
that their money is “donated” 
against their free speech to support 
a procedure they vehemently 
oppose. They should not have to 
give money to an organization 
that directly contradicts their very 
sense of self, as if they are “forced” 
to “donate” to such an effort.

Say ideally, then, these abortion 

clinics weren’t closing. The next 
question we should ask is: since it 
is the government’s responsibility 
to offer an ease of options to the 
individual, whether, if some tax 
dollars were removed from the 

funding of such programs, the 
ease of options for the individual 
would significantly decrease. It is 
well-documented that 49 percent 
of people who seek abortions are 
below the poverty level, obviously 
unable to pay up to $1,500 for an 
abortion. But how do you confound 
the fact that these individuals who 
are pro-life are paying taxes to 
subsidize abortions?

Last year, Planned Parenthood 

made a net income of $77.5 million, 
with 41 percent of its revenue (the 
largest amount) coming from the 
government: mostly through Title 
X and Medicare. It is important 
to recognize that only about 3 
percent of the budget goes to 
abortion 
services. 
Complete 

removal of federal funding would 
significantly skew the playing 
field, since private donations only 
constitute 33 percent. The choice 
would be forced by lack of access: 
It should be entirely based on 
one’s personal beliefs, context and 
ideology.

While this means there might be 

issues leveling the “playing field,” 
it certainly seeks to balance that 
with not having those staunchly 
against abortions pay taxes to 
that go toward these services. 
Obviously, abortion clinics could 
work simply based on donation 
and external affiliates; I would 
suggest that government stay 
entirely out of the debate entirely. 
Nevertheless, the solution, in my 
mind, can be only two-fold: that 
government remove itself entirely 
or we have to accept that the 
ability to choose is part of a social 
contract everyone has to accept.

I would argue, given the 

former is certainly more difficult 
in maintaining this balance, the 
latter is the only solution at this 
moment. Moreover, when taking 
into account only 3 percent of 
Planned 
Parenthood’s 
work 

(328,348 total) is abortion services, 
I can better reconcile this notion. 
I recognize my decision is based 
only in the event of such an issue. 
My intent isn’t, and shouldn’t be, 
to impose personal identity on the 
decision process of others. The 
foremost priority is to maintain 
the balance of choice, then in a 
predicament where an abortion is 
contemplated, personal identity 
may enter.

E

very Friday for as long 
as I can remember, I’ve 
concluded my day with 

a phone call to my Ammamma. 
While drinking her Madras coffee, 
she fills me in on the latest family 
gossip, and I reassure her that 
I’m well-fed and well-read, and 
update her on my newest futile 
attempt at preparing an Indian 
meal. This week, however, our 
routine spiels were interrupted 
by the incessant drilling outside 
her home in the HITEC city 
neighborhood of Hyderabad. Upon 
my inquiry, she revealed to me 
that the construction was due to 
preparations for Ivanka Trump’s 
upcoming visit to the city. 

A couple of hours of Googling 

later, 
I 
learned 
that 
the 
first 
daughter 

would be visiting India toward the 
end of November to speak at the 
Global Entrepreneurship Summit. 
The summit, which will be hosted 
in South Asia for the first time, is 
set to host 1,500 entrepreneurs and 
world leaders from 150 countries. 

Preliminary efforts for the event 

have included extensive renovation 
to the city’s pothole-ridden roads, 
the hasty construction of an 
extravagant pedestrian shopping 
mall 
and, 
most 
significantly, 

the extraction of thousands of 
homeless civilians from public 
view.

Hyderabad, known as the IT 

hub and economic powerhouse of 
South India, is the fourth-most-
populated city in the country, 
with an estimated 13 percent of 
its population living below the 
national poverty line. The city’s 
attempt to rebrand itself as the 
Silicon Valley of India in recent 
years has brought in companies 
such 
as 
Apple, 
Google 
and 

Microsoft; nevertheless, economic 
inequality has increased. For many 
living in slum neighborhoods, 
begging serves as the predominant 
means for survival. 

In one week alone, over 400 

individuals caught begging were 
transported to separate male and 
female housing facilities, located 
on the grounds of two city prisons. 
Begging is listed as a criminal 
offense in the region; however, 
the law is rarely, if ever, enforced. 
When asked about the correlation 
of Trump’s visit and the sudden 
relocation initiative, V.K Singh, 

the director of Hyderabad’s prison 
system, insisted that this has 
been a mission of the government 
for several years due to the 
“annoyance and awkwardness” 
of begging in Indian cities. An 
estimated 
6,000 
people 
are 

expected to be taken into these 
“rehabilitation facilities” prior 
to the summit, and city officials 
have stated that individuals will 
be offered a shower, bed and pair 
of clean clothes.

While this may sound altruistic, 

many of these individuals are 
separated 
from 
their 
family 

members prior to being taken to 
a respective shelter. Moreover, 
everyone 
brought 
into 
a 

temporary housing facility will 
be fingerprinted under police 
supervision prior to their release 
with the threat of incarceration, 
should they be caught asking for 
money again. 

The summit, ironically titled, 

“Women 
First, 
Prosperity 

for All,” is not the first time 
impoverished locals have been 
characterized as blemishes and 
concealed 
from 
international 

visitors. Hyderabad took similar 
measures in 2000 in preparation 
for former then-President Bill 
Clinton’s visit. Ten years later, 
before the 2010 Commonwealth 
games in New Delhi, bulldozers 
tore through Delhi’s expansive 
blue-tent 
neighborhoods 
that 

served as homes for the city’s 
millions of homeless families 
with no relocation plan set 
in 
motion. 
Comparably, 
in 

China, 
government 
officials 

pushed thousands of migrant 
workers caught seeking work 
opportunities in the city center to 
the outskirts of Beijing to present 
a more sanitized and affluent 
metroplex for the 2008 Olympics.

Trump spoke on a world stage 

about the importance of changing 
government policies in ways that 
empower 
women 
to 
produce 

healthier economies; meanwhile, 
her visit prompted the temporary 
lockdown of these very women 
with no sustainable plans for 
when they are asked to leave the 
rehabilitation facilities. 

Uprooting 
impoverished 

citizens and criminalizing poverty 
is not only ethically unsettling, 
it’s insufficient in moving toward 

any kind of attempt at poverty 
eradication. Many of Hyderabad’s 
homeless have been stuck in the 
vicious cycle of impoverishment 
for generations. The challenge 
becomes even more convoluted 
when you consider the multitude 
of circumstances that lead to 
homelessness in the first place. 
Pervasiveness of the caste system, 
lack of education opportunities 
for women and the overwhelming 
stigma associated with physical 
disablements 
and 
mental 

illnesses all play a role in pushing 
individuals to begging.

It is imperative to emphasize 

that this crisis isn’t isolated to 
the Western Hemisphere. New 
York City’s notoriously strained 
relationship with homelessness 
is evident by the 60,000-plus 
individuals shifting in between 
temporary 
housing 
clusters. 

Correspondingly, in Los Angeles, 
the number of individuals living on 
the streets jumped by 23 percent in 
the last year alone. In these cities, 
a combination of factors, most 
significantly skyrocketing rents, 
has exacerbated the issue.

What’s even more daunting is 

that, similarly to India, the threat 
of incarceration looms over these 
vulnerable populations. Though 
many urban hubs, like New 
York City and Los Angeles, have 
attempted to increase the number 
of distributable resources for the 
homeless, a study found that 53 
percent of these cities continue to 
ban sitting or lying in public places.

Closer to home, in Detroit, 

homelessness 
has 
actually 

decreased 
by 
20 
percent. 

Michigan’s “housing first” policy, 
implemented in 2015, is largely 
attributed for this accomplishment, 
as the policy called for funding in 
permanent housing and social work 
initiatives to enable individuals to 
live sustainably. Detroit’s numbers 
support the abundance of evidence 
that indicates investments in long-
term subsidized housing, alongside 
mental health and other social 
service initiatives, are needed 
to benefit those facing the harsh 
reality of homelessness.

Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Tuesday, December 5, 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

Hyderabad or hide-our-bad?

LEKHA PATHAPATI | OP-ED

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

Lekha Pathapati is an

LSA senior.

Government and abortion

Power in a platform

NATALIE BROWN | NATALIE CAN BE REACHED AT NGBROWN@UMICH.EDU

I

’ve never been good at lasts. 
They’re hard to process in 
the moment, pulling me to 

either the most emotional end of 
the reaction spectrum or leaving 
me to stew in my own fabricated 
indifference. 
Balance 
clearly 

isn’t a strong suit of mine, either.

It makes sense then, that as 

I sat down to write this article 
— my last for the semester — I 
had absolutely no idea where 
to begin. There’s so much to 
say about the current campus 
climate — white supremacist 
Richard 
Spencer’s 
possible 

future 
appearance 
at 
the 

University 
of 
Michigan, 

dialogues 
surrounding 

divestment, the Middle Eastern 
and North African community’s 
campaign to create a ME/
NA demographic category on 
campus forms. These are things 
I’ve been thinking long and 
hard about, things that matter 
with a magnitude of pressing 
urgency. Things that affect 
the day-to-day mental states 
of others to an extent I can’t 
possibly fathom as an upper-
middle-class white woman.

As I scroll through The 

Daily’s fiery op-eds and the 
eloquently worded columns of 
my fellow opinionators, I’m hit 
with an overwhelming feeling of 
gratitude. I’m grateful that this 
school is home to such a well-
run student publication that 
strives to give voices to many, 
maintaining self-awareness in 
its shortcomings. I’m grateful 
for the power journalism can 
have when its very existence 
rests on the cultivation of social 
responsibility, the discourse it 
can encourage in these select 
scenarios. And here’s a really 
broad sentiment: I’m grateful for 
words, for the people who use 
them to initiate positive social 
change 
and 
to 
demonstrate 

vulnerability. 
I’m 
grateful 

for language that empowers, 
that 
interrogates 
and 
that 

re-interrogates societal norms 
while exploring the stories of 
both individuals and the masses.

Simultaneously, I’m hit with a 

thought about what it means to 
write for a student publication 
like this one. Have I deserved 
the platform that I’ve been 
given, an inexperienced writer 
with 
semi-minimal 
campus 

involvement and no experiences 
of marginalization? It seems I 
may have shirked some of my 
own social responsibilities as 
a columnist with the privilege 
of white skin and a public 
platform. A self-titled “health 
and wellness” columnist for the 
semester, I’ve limited myself 
to columns that veer from the 
rigorous risk-taking and opinion-
stating of many of my peers.

Maybe I was afraid of my 

own inexperience, that I might 
not know how to navigate these 
more complex issues in a totally 
productive way. My failure to 
use this platform to do so over 
the course of the semester is, 
essentially, the definition of 
privilege. I’m not proud of this in 
the slightest, but it’s something 
for which I’m accountable.

However, I will say I don’t 

think this platform should be 
grounds 
for 
experimentation 

with discussions around such 
tough topics either. If I did 
approach these more socially 
charged issues in my columns, 
I wanted to be sure that my 
responses demonstrated 750 to 
1,000 words of intellectual rigor, 
of consciously chosen language 
and moral responsibility.

But regardless, the fact is that 

I didn’t really use this platform 
to create careful meditations on 
polarizing issues. I pretty much 
stayed within my comfort zone 
and rested on the more classical 
definitions of the “health and 
wellness” label I’d originally 
adopted at the beginning of the 
semester, without weaving this 
topic into the context of current 
events on campus.

Upon reflection, this seems 

irresponsible. Especially in light 
of this country’s era of Donald 
Trump, the combination of 
privilege and a platform should 

be enough to hold myself to a 
high standard of accountability 
for discussing these pressing 
issues, no matter the level of 
publicity my articles might be 
receiving.

And what of the gratitude I feel 

for the power of the University’s 
student publications, anyway? I 
mean, it’s an easy gratitude for 
me to personally feel. I have the 
ability to sit back and watch as 
productive discourse unfolds, 
catalyzed by articles I more than 
likely did not write. The content 
addressed by the more socially 
responsible articles will not 
affect my own safety on campus. 
It will not affect the ease with 
which I can get my voice heard at 
the University the way it might 
affect that of some of my friends 
and classmates.

Contemplating 
my 
own 

reasons for applying to be a 
columnist this semester, I do 
wonder: “Were they valid ones?” 
I’ve never been great at sharing 
my writing or expressing my 
opinions, and I guess I wanted to 
“challenge” myself — of course, 
I should’ve moved further past 
this original comfort zone and 
into some more commentary 
on timely campus occurrences. 
I think I was given a platform, 
and I don’t think I utilized it in a 
totally productive way.

I think about laziness and 

poor planning, how some of 
my columns were written to 
meet deadlines rather than to 
commit to a standard of social 
responsibility. I think about 
privilege and the power of 
a platform, how I’m a white 
person 
who 
gets 
to 
self-

interrogate on this page while 
many important voices and 
stories remain unheard.

I have a long way to go until 

I can say that I’m standing as 
tall as possible on the platform 
I’ve been given.

Josie Tolin can be reached at 

jostolin@umich.edu.

DAVID KAMPER | COLUMN

David Kamper can be reached at 

dgkamper@umich.edu.

JOSIE TOLIN | COLUMN

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