Conyers, 
who 
was 
first 

elected to Congress in 1964, 
co-founded the Congressional 
Black Caucus and sponsored 
legislation to make Martin 
Luther King Jr. Day a federal 
holiday. Conyers also served 
as ranking Democrat on the 
House Judiciary Committee 
for many years and has been a 
principal supporter of single-
payer health care legislation. 
He has built a robust legacy 
as a champion of civil rights. 
The day before his retirement 
announcement, a rally in Detroit 
attended by local politicians, 
faith leaders and activists was 
held in support of Conyers and 
his status as an icon of the civil 
rights movement.

Despite his achievements, 

Conyers still abused his power 
as a government official and 
employer — actions we cannot 
condone. 
As 
his 
egregious 

actions have come to light, he 
can no longer be trusted to 
uphold important standards 
of conduct that we expect of 
any politician. Furthermore, 
in 2015, Conyers used $27,000 
of taxpayer money to settle a 
wrongful dismissal suit against 
a former employee who alleged 
she had been fired for resisting 
his sexual advances. While the 

use of taxpayer money for the 
settlement was entirely legal, 
we find this deeply unsettling.

While 
we 
live 
in 
an 

increasingly polarized political 
climate, party politics should 
not make a difference when 
addressing sexual harassment 
on Capitol Hill. We understand 
that seats in Congress can make 
or break important legislative 
initiatives, like we saw with the 
Republicans’ multiple failed 
attempts to reform health care. 
This issue, however, should not 
pose concern in Conyers’s case. 
Michigan’s 13th Congressional 
District, which he represented 
prior to his retirement, has 
historically voted democratic. 
Nonetheless, 
the 
issue 
of 

sexual misconduct in Congress 
is not one of politics, but of 
ethics. If the Democratic Party 
wishes to be the party that 
champions 
women’s 
rights, 

they must condemn sexual 
misconduct within their ranks 
— even with elected positions 
with tighter races.

This expectation goes beyond 

Conyers and includes Sen. Al 
Franken, D-Minn., who has been 
accused of sexual misconduct 
by eight women. There has been 
valid criticism concerning a dual 
standard shown by democratic 
leadership, 
one 
that 
favors 

Franken over Conyers. We would 
expect the same zero-tolerance 
policy 
from 
the 
Republican 

Party, 
particularly 
when 
it 

comes to Alabama senatorial 
candidate Roy Moore. Implicitly 
or explicitly supporting certain 
people 
accused 
of 
sexual 

misconduct while condemning 
others must stop.

With these allegations and 

his abrupt retirement, Conyers 
will now have a complex 
legacy. We must recognize and 
accept that people and their 
legacies can be complex. By 
looking past this complexity, 
we lose the accountability we 
need within our institutions. G

rowing 
up, 
we’re 

told that we can be 
anything. We’re taught 

to dream and imagine; we’re 
told that optimism beats realism 
every single time. Then we get 
older, and we start to lose sight 
of this idea. When we’re kids, 
we dream of being president. 
Yet when we inch closer to 
graduating from college and 
entering true adulthood, our 
most 
profound 
dreams 
are 

just that some company, any 
company, will hire us. 

This 
column 
isn’t 
about 

holding fast to dreams; it is 
more about how growing up, 
unfortunately, means realism and 
practicality overtake imagination 
and hopefulness. It’s not all bad, 
because I think most of us still 
hold a sense of optimism — it’s 
just less unbridled.

But 
isn’t 
this 
kind 
of 

peculiar? 
Societal 
norms 

seem to extinguish in adults 
the childhood idea that if you 
believe in yourself, you can do 
almost anything, and if enough 
people believe in something, it 
can be done.

I don’t plan to preach the 

benefits of dreaming big and 
never giving up. This isn’t 
a “hope-y, change-y” call to 
action. But it’s interesting that 
realism grows stronger as we 
grow up, because it is apparent 
that so many of the important 
things in the world function 
not because of anything real.

Let’s look at an example that 

we all know and love: money. 
Money in the United States is 
green paper. Again, it is paper. 
Paper that is colored green. So 
are the physical properties of 
this green paper what make 

it so valuable? Not at all. If I 
took a green colored pencil to a 
piece of loose leaf and handed 
it to you, you wouldn’t care.

Why? Money is valuable 

because everyone says it is. 
More 
accurately, 
everyone 

believes it is. It has no intrinsic 
worth 
in 
its 
chemical 
or 

physical structure.

So belief drives money, yet 

society tends to push people 
to be realistic, and, while not 
rejecting the benefits of belief, 
to focus more on action and 
pragmatism as life gets more 
complicated. My thinking is 
that we shouldn’t allow our 
kids to relinquish that youthful 
sense of belief.

Money and a variety of other 

things — the Federal Reserve, 
the U.S. government, human 
rights — are fictive constructs, 
not material truths. Of course 
there 
are 
Federal 
Reserve 

Bank buildings made of brick 
and mortar, and money is 
real paper that you can hold. 
These things do exist in the 
most 
elementary, 
physical 

forms. But their inherent value 
subsists only in our collective 

consciousness. Isn’t this naive 
and child-like?

So let’s not act like adults 

are so mature and perfectly 
realistic: They trade green slips 
of paper that they all agreed 
should have value. Then they 
use some of this paper to pay 
the government, because, well, 
everyone seems to think that’s 
how it should be. Some of them 
go to church every Sunday and 
worship things they have no 
idea actually exist. And nearly 
all of them, at least in the United 
States, preach that everyone 
has human rights, even though 
no doctor has ever performed 
surgery in which he cut open 
his patient and found the heart, 
blood vessels, large intestine, 
liver and … human rights.

It’s about time we regain 

a little bit of that childhood 
naivety — the kind that pushes 
you first to imagine, then to 
believe in yourself and in the 
notion that common beliefs are 
all we really need. Again, this 
isn’t all that much of a call to 
action. It is simply a plea to 
realize our hypocrisy: There is 
no reason we shouldn’t dream 
big and use our imaginations 
like children, throughout life. 
After all, we do it with money, 
government, religion and the 
economy.

So let’s try to always remember 

the power of collective beliefs. 
Let’s never encourage anyone to 
“grow up,” if all growing up means 
is relinquishing dreams because 
adulthood “realism” says they’re 
too imaginative and ambitious.

Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Friday, December 8, 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 case for being a believer

BILLY STAMPFL | 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

Billy Stampfl can be reached at 

bstampfl@umich.edu. 

FROM THE DAILY

Hold harassers accountable
O

ver the past few weeks, U.S. Rep. John Conyers, D-Mich, 
has been accused of sexual harassment by multiple former 
employees. On Tuesday, Conyers sent a letter to Speaker of 

the House Paul Ryan, R-Wis., House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi, 
D-Calif., and Gov. Rick Snyder announcing his retirement effective 
immediately. He made the same announcement in a radio interview 
while also denying the accusations against him. His retirement 
came after multiple politicians on both sides of the aisle called for 
him to step down. The Michigan Daily Editorial Board believes our 
government officials must be held accountable for their actions 
regardless of the standing of their character and career.

I will fight for you

EMILY WOLFE | CONTACT EMILY AT ELWOLFE@UMICH.EDU

 
 
 

Editor’s note: The author’s name 
was omitted to protect their 
identity.
I

t happened on a Thursday. 
It 
was 
the 
day 
before 

Halloween. I was dressed 

as the devil. I remember walking 
outside and feeling the cold air on 
my face. I remember walking into 
the house. I remember him on top 
of me. Everything else is black. 
Those three memories are seared 
into my brain, permanently I think. 
No matter how hard I try to forget, 
I don’t know if I ever will.

In the years since it happened, 

when I find myself gripped with 
panic and unable to catch my 
breath, I calm down by reasoning 
with myself. Mine wasn’t that bad 
because, thank God, I can’t even 
remember most of it. Some women 
have more violent memories. I’m 
one of the lucky ones, really. But 
how could I ever forget the part I 
did remember? It flashes into my 
mind at random times, and always 
before I go to sleep.

It’s been three years since I was 

raped. Those three years have been 
some of the longest of my life. It 
took me a year to admit to myself 
that what happened that night was 
actually rape. It took even longer 
for me to tell my parents. I can 
count on one hand the number of 
my friends I have told. To this day, 
I keep it to myself out of shame and 
fear of how I will be perceived.

We all know how people react 

when a woman seeks justice, or 
even solace, following a rape. What 
was she wearing? She has no proof. 
Why would she want to ruin a 
man’s life like that? Questions like 
these had me convinced for a long 
time that what happened to me was 
my fault. I did go to his house, after 
all. I was even wearing a dress. So, 
I allowed the shame I felt to take 
hold of my body. It gripped me 
so tightly it made it impossible to 
speak, even when I wanted to tell 
people what happened to me.

Everyone who knows me 

knows 
I’m 
an 
outspoken 

feminist — I’m never afraid to 
address the injustices that exist 
in our society. I have supported 
many of my friends who have 
experienced the same injustice 
as I have. I assure them that 
what happened to them was 
not a result of their actions or 
words; the horrific denial of 
their autonomy and disregard 
for their humanity was not 
their fault. And I believe that 

wholeheartedly. I would fight 
for any victim. So why couldn’t 
I fight for myself?

Over the past month or so, I have 

read hundreds of posts associated 
with the #MeToo campaign. I’m 
encouraged by survivors who 
speak out about what was done 
to them. I admire their bravery. 
Reading other women recount 
their stories and their recoveries 
gives me hope that I, too, will be 
able to recover one day.

However, campaigns like these, 

which are designed to increase 
awareness, feel empty at best 
and insulting at worst. I was not 
surprised by any of the posts I 
read or even the sheer number 
of my friends alone who have 
experienced sexual assault. This is 
common knowledge to me and to 
every woman I know.

What surprised me was how 

men reacted: I had no idea sexual 
assault was this widespread! What 
can we, as men, do to stop this?! 
Women of the world, help us be 
better! As if women don’t have 
enough to deal with already, now 
we must fix the problem of sexual 
assault, too? To me, “the problem 
of sexual assault” is really “the 
problem of men who do not know 
women deserve respect and dignity 
just like everybody else.” It’s “the 
problem of toxic masculinity and 
the patriarchy” or, more simply, 
“the problem of power.”

I realized this long before I 

was raped, and my understanding 
certainly didn’t require having 
a daughter or a wife first. Like 
many women I know, I’m tired of 
facilitating the conversation on 
sexual assault. But, for the sake of 
change, I will. Men reading this, 
listen up.

I implore you to understand 

that even if you have not sexually 
assaulted 
someone, 
you 
are 

complicit in sexual assault in 
your silence. You are complicit 
in the rape jokes you make with 
your friends. You are complicit 
when you willingly participate in 
organizations where sexual assault 
rates are highest, like fraternities. 
Please understand how destructive 
your behavior is to women, to men, 
to yourself and to society.

If you are offended by my claims, 

all you need to do is tune into the 
conversation women have been 
having for decades. For too long, 
the blame and responsibility have 
been placed on women. It is not our 
job to stop what is being done to 
us. We do not need to be less naive, 
more careful or more accepting of 
the “reality” of our world. Men, you 

need to step up. This is not on me. 
This is on you.

Beyond 
ensuring 
that 
it 

never happens again, men can 
help fix “the problem of sexual 
assault” by addressing the role 
they play in its perpetuation. 
Chris Brown, abuser, has a 
new documentary on Netflix. 
Kodak Black, rapist, continues 
to be a widely streamed artist. 
Woody Allen, pedophile and 
rapist, decorates the walls of 
our “progressive” town of Ann 
Arbor. Donald Trump, alleged 
rapist, is the president of the 
United States. The list goes 
on. Stop celebrating, glorifying 
and rewarding these men and, 
instead, hold them accountable.

You can also help by being 

supportive of the people in your 
life who have been raped. When I 
told my dad what happened to me, 
he listened to me. He allowed me 
to share my experience without 
interrupting or interjecting his 
own thoughts. Most importantly, 
he did not doubt me for a second. 
The positive impact of having a 
man like my dad in my life during 
my recovery process has been 
immeasurable. I encourage you to 
be that man for someone. Listen, 
actually listen, to the women, and 
men, in your life who want to share 
their experiences.

For a long time after I was raped, 

I felt helpless. I still have days when 
I feel things will never change. 
But my helplessness no longer 
consumes me. I’m inspired and 
comforted by the resilient, brave 
women in my life. To the women 
in my classes who excel despite 
their trauma, to my friends and 
family who carry on despite what 
was done to them, to survivors 
everywhere: I see you, I believe you 
and I believe in you.

Women are strong as hell. But 

we shouldn’t have to be. No, the 
solution to “the problem of sexual 
assault” is not women becoming 
stronger and less sensitive. The 
solution is for men to stop. Stop. 
Raping. Us. Though I’m tired 
of being held responsible, I will 
continue to fight for justice until 
men no longer feel they possess the 
right to my body. I will fight for me. 
I will fight for you.

ANONYMOUS

The author is an LSA senior.

This is the eighth piece in the 
Survivors Speak series, which 

seeks to share the varied, 

first-person experiences of survivors 

of sexual assault. 

JOIN THE DAILY

The Michigan Daily Opinion Section is currently accepting applications 

to join our team. We are currently hiring columnists, cartoonists, 
and editors for the winter semester. Applications can be found at 

https://tinyurl.com/W18opinion

CONTRIBUTE TO THE CONVERSATION

Readers are encouraged to submit letters to the editor and op-eds. 
Letters should be fewer than 300 words while op-eds should be 550 
to 850 words. Send the writer’s full name and University affiliation to 

tothedaily@michigandaily.com.

Money is valuable 
because everyone 

says it is. More 

accurately, 

everyone believes 

it is

Despite his legacy, 

Conyers still 

abused his power 
as a government 

official