Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Friday, February 23, 2018
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Ashley Zhang
Bridging human and animal rights
Keep guns away from abusers
T
he
routine
abuse
of
animals
across
several
major industries is well
documented, but the
vast majority of people
in the United States
continue to use animals
as
commodities
in
various aspects of their
life. This is especially
prominent in our diets;
the average American
man eats 6.9 ounces
of meat per day and,
according to a Tyson
spokesman, overall meat
consumption has steadily increased
over the past five years. While
plant-based eating is becoming
more culturally accepted, still only
about 3 percent of the population
adopts a totally vegan or vegetarian
diet.
One of the major rationales
for going vegan or vegetarian —
and arguably the most polarizing
— is the wish to advance animal
rights and welfare, the idea that
eating animal products is cruel
and unethical. In my eight years of
being vegetarian, I’ve had countless
conversations with meat-eating
friends, classmates and family
members about the ethics of meat.
Arguments against vegetarianism/
veganism have run the gamut from
hypothetical scenarios in which I’m
stuck on an island and, somehow,
only have animals available as
food to exasperated sighs of bacon
simply being too good to give up.
Eating meat has felt, at times,
like an even more delicate, difficult
discussion among my social circles
on campus, which are filled with
progressive
college
students
who often advocate for multiple
social causes. I’ve heard time
and time again a line of thinking
from progressive friends who eat
meat that revolves around how
vegans and vegetarians unfairly
ignore human issues. For example,
I’ve often heard that vegans and
vegatarians
are
hypocritical
because they need to care more
about underpaid immigrants who
pick their vegetables — despite
the fact that raising animals for
slaughter
requires
significant
crop production and workers in
slaughterhouses often face post-
traumatic stress disorder and other
health issues.
This kind of logic, depending
on
context,
implies
that
vegetarianism/veganism is either
directly at odds with human
interests or that it’s too trivial to
consider while we are battling
against so many other forms of
oppression. But growing up, my
feminism actually materialized
in part because of the mental
work I was doing by transitioning
away from meat — reevaluating
my
daily
choices,
examining
the violent power structures in
customs I had previously taken as
a given, realizing how the erasure
of a group’s voice can completely
erase consideration of its interests.
These thought processes, and the
more intentional relationship I
built with my food as a result of
them, catalyzed a more progressive
mindset as a whole in me.
Why are many of my peers
—
otherwise
committed
to
recognizing
the
experiences of those
with
marginalized
identities
—
quick
to dismiss work on
behalf
of
animals
that suffer for our
consumption? In an
environment
where
it’s considered critical
to raise awareness
of
discrimination
against
various
groups of humans, why treat
the oppression of animals and of
humans as incompatible worlds, as
being unconnected? Why is our gut
instinct to draw a line in the sand
when it comes to our relationship
with animals?
I believe the narrative of animal
activism being at odds with human
activism, or at least peripheral to
human activism, is misleading.
It likely stems from, at best,
defensiveness about the notion
of erasing habits so intricately
linked to our culture and lifestyle
or, at worst, a complete emotional
separation from species considered
edible or otherwise designated for
our use.
Several recent theories have
examined a kind of dominant
ideology that pervades our mental
understandings and institutional
treatment of animals, ultimately
guiding us to oppress them and
see our perceived supremacy over
them as normal and natural. For
example, social psychologist and
professor Melanie Joy argues
that carnism pervades our society
and convinces us eating certain
animals is a given, not a choice.
Professor and philosopher Peter
Singer has popularized the concept
of speciesism, or a prevalent
attitude among humans of bias
against non-human beings because
of their species.
There’s a more integrative way
to approach this issue, and I saw a
reflection of my own journey with
vegetarianism and feminism in my
Sociology of the Body course last
semester. Sociology lecturer Luis
Sfeir-Younis began the course by
illustrating societal conceptions and
treatment of animal bodies in the
first two sessions. Throughout the
semester, he teased out the distinct
experiences of other marginalized
groups such as women, people of
color or fat people. He often showed
how these groups are dehumanized
through being compared to — or
implicitly treated like — animals.
In my interview with him last
week, he explained his intentions
with the course structure: “Because
we are human beings, it is sometimes
hard to be critical of our own
experiences. The conversation on
animals gives us the kind of distance
that allows us to go more in-depth
in understanding the concepts of
the course. There is no living being
that has been objectified as much as
animals, to the point that the legal
system in most countries considers
animals to be things, to be property.”
Sfeir-Younis’s
teachings
demonstrate how oppression of
marginalized groups is achieved
through common mental processes
such as homogenization, which
removes individual identities and
consequent empathy for members of
a given group. If we think of certain
groups as a category, rather than a
set of individuals with sentience,
consciousness or personalities, it’s
much easier to ignore their interests
and justify poor treatment of them.
“Animals are homogenized into
one category even though they are
billions of unique beings,” he said.
“We use language that makes them
distant from ourselves, apart from
ourselves, as being instruments for
our own satisfaction and pleasure
… When we talk about the bodies of
women being fragmented, it’s hard
for people to understand that. But
when we talk about animals, people
can see how a body is divided into
parts we’ll be using or consuming in
the future.”
He’s careful not to make
judgments
on
the
relative
importance of different groups’
suffering.
But,
he
emphasizes
how certain common elements
thread through the mechanisms
of injustice against many groups:
“In my opinion, when you work for
animals or for any other cause, you
are actually trying to dismantle
the same matrix that causes the
suffering of different kinds of
humans and non-human animals.”
His course ultimately bridges the
gap in the two supposed worlds
of oppression of animals and
oppression of humans. It doesn’t
ignore animal issues, but instead
utilizes them as a key framework for
understanding oppressive processes
as a whole.
Empathizing and advocating
for one group can help us, in turn,
develop more empathy for others.
Learning about animal issues and
adopting a vegetarian or veganism
diet
can
especially
reinforce
progressive action in other areas
because it’s one of the simplest,
most practical ways to embody
personal values and truly live one’s
convictions. It’s the kind of activism
that tangibly plays out multiple
times a day, each time we sit down
to eat.
My journey with vegetarianism
has
profoundly
changed
my
understanding of my own potential
to impact lives and fight for a cause.
I implore readers to think critically
about the oppression of all beings
and what they can do on a day-to-
day basis to fight these systems.
Stephanie Trierweiler can be
reached at strier@umich.edu..
STEPHANIE TRIERWEILER | COLUMN
MARGOT LIBERTINI | COLUMN
O
n Feb. 14, much of the world
celebrated
Valentine’s
Day and Ash Wednesday:
holidays that honor love
and peace. In the U.S., we
mourned the deaths of 17
high school students and
faculty who were brutally
murdered in the 30th
mass shooting this year. Of
course, a school shooting
that resulted in 17 deaths
is much different than
other
mass
shootings,
some of which resulted
in no fatalities. But in no
way was this unprecedented — only
five months ago, a shooting in Las
Vegas resulted in the highest death
toll from a mass shooting yet.
(An aside: Mass shootings are
a uniquely American phenomenon.
Thirty-one
percent
of
mass
shootings in the world happen here,
and yet we continue to respond by
calling for more guns. Our Congress
continues
to
respond
by
not
responding. We — ignorantly — call
it a mental health problem, then cut
mental health funding. Don’t forget
that this is insane).
The shooter in Parkland, Fla.,
was
19-year-old
Nikolas
Cruz.
Cruz had a history of abusive and
misogynistic
behavior
toward
women. His teacher reported that
he was stalking a female peer, his
ex-girlfriend broke up with him
because of his violent and abusive
behavior and he was ultimately
expelled for getting into a fight with
his ex-girlfriend’s new boyfriend.
Why do I find this so significant?
Because 54 percent of mass shootings
have roots in domestic violence.
Because the Orlando shooter who
murdered 49 people June 12, 2016
physically abused his wife. Because
the Texas shooter who murdered
people in their place of worship
on Nov. 5 horrifically assaulted
his ex-wife, who says she lived in
“constant fear” of him. Because the
Las Vegas shooter who killed 58
people Oct. 1 acted abusively toward
his girlfriend as well. There is a
significant and obvious link between
abuse of women and mass shootings,
but we ignore this and blame it on
mental illness.
Mental illness is not the cause
of abusive, possessive and criminal
behavior toward women. Stop
stigmatizing non-violent Americans
and recognize that the problem is a
pervasive misogynistic culture that
normalizes violence against women.
Toxic
masculinity
and
guns
are
a
lethal
combination,
and it is one I am
so tired of trying to
convince people to
recognize. I’m tired
of searching every
mass shooter’s name
and finding exactly
what I’m looking for:
a history of abuse
toward women. I’m
so, so tired of remembering how
little this country cares about the
welfare and safety of its women,
despite its constant attempts to
downplay our agency.
It is illegal for convicted abusers
to buy guns in this country. They do,
though, as we see too often when it
results in abusive husbands killing
their wives, their kids and their
community members. How? When
an abuser is convicted, only 15 states
actually require they turn in their
guns. In 35 states, a domestic abuser
can be proven to be a violent person,
legally recognized as an abuser
and continue to have a house full of
firearms. The Texas shooter was a
convicted domestic abuser, but the
U.S. Air Force failed to report his
conviction to the FBI. So, he was able
to buy a gun that he used to commit
mass murder. In all but 19 states,
it wouldn’t have even mattered if
the FBI was aware, because only
19 states require a full background
check when buying a gun online or
in a gun show.
We
are
allowing
innocent
people to be in the presence of armed
violent criminals every day. Women
are leaving abusive relationships,
bravely take the steps to report
the abuse, and our laws are failing
them horribly. Our laws are failing
all of us horribly, because not only
are the women, children and family
members linked to these men at risk,
but all of us are. We are all threatened
by the reality of violent individuals
possessing weapons of murder.
Beyond
mass
shootings,
American women are killed every
day by guns in an epidemic that
lawmakers ignore. Every month,
about 50 American women are
fatally shot by an intimate partner.
Silently, women are being gunned
down in their homes and in their
workplaces — the places they feel
safest. Some suggest women should
arm themselves, just as they suggest
teachers should be armed, grocery
shoppers should be armed, and so on.
Americans really like the idea that
further militarizing our society will
somehow bring us peace. It won’t,
but unfortunately the National Rifle
Association will always be more
sacred than our lives. Anyway,
when women do arm themselves,
they increase the potential of being
murdered by more than 50 percent.
The statistics are dark and
disheartening. The cycle of mass
shootings, the prevalence of gun
deaths each day, the power of
lobbying groups, the apathy of
those in power, it all feels as though
we are powerless in the fight for
our lives. There are solutions
though: solutions that work in
other countries and solutions that
have worked in our own country.
In states that simply require
background checks on all gun
purchases,
including
online
and at gun shows, 47 percent
fewer women are fatally shot by
intimate partners.
Treating
domestic
abuse
like a private family matter is
unacceptable. It is unacceptable
because it puts victims in danger
and leaves them living in fear. This
has historically not been reason
enough to act, though. So, ignoring
the serious criminality of domestic
abuse also puts all Americans in
danger. We claim to want guns out
of the hands of violent individuals,
so let’s start here. Let’s enforce the
laws we already have on the table,
enact comprehensive background
checks for all purchases and
require that all weapons are
taken from convicted domestic
abusers — in every state. Let’s treat
domestic abuse like the pervasive
and criminal problem that it is, not
a personal matter to be left up to
personal mediation.
Let’s protect and empower
women.
“Men are afraid that women
will laugh at them. Women are
afraid that men will kill them.” -
Margaret Atwood
Margot Libertini can be reached at
mlibertini@umich.edu.
T
he 2018 Academy Awards,
otherwise
known
as
the Oscars, will be held
on March 4th, and as the awards
ceremony
approaches,
I
have
been trying to see all of the highly-
anticipated nominees, since they are
generally considered to be the most
important films of the year. And
according to the numbers, the most
important of these important films
is Guillermo Del Toro’s The Shape
of Water. It’s the most-nominated
film this year, with a total of 13
nominations, including Best Picture
and Best Director. The critical
appeal of this was intriguing to me,
so I was really excited when I finally
got the chance to see it. However,
my excitement was very, very
short-lived.
Actually, a better word to
describe what I felt sitting in the
movie
theater
was:
confusion.
I asked myself: Am I missing
something? I kept waiting for
something remarkable to happen.
As the film continued, I grew more
and more disappointed. I thought,
maybe this is it. Maybe one of 2018’s
most groundbreaking films really
is an unoriginal, perverted sexual
fantasy that is not groundbreaking at
all. Rather, it relies on the excessive
sexualization of a female protagonist
that is portrayed through the eyes of
a male director and an undercredited
supporting role of a black colleague
and gay best friend; it reflects age-old
patterns in Hollywood that reflect
the problematic way our society
functions in terms of sexism, racism
and phallic worship.
As I processed the film, my
confusion turned to anger and
frustration. In fact, I was so
frustrated that I abandoned what
I was originally planning to write
about this week to talk about it.
Let’s start my complaints with
the protagonist: Elisa Esposito, a
janitor working in a secret military
laboratory. Elisa has been mute
since birth and she expresses herself
through sign language and facial
expressions. The audience gets to
know Elisa pretty quickly; within
the first five minutes of the film, we
see Elisa’s naked body in its entirety
when she masturbates in her bathtub.
Some critics consider this scene as a
display of Elisa’s sexual liberty, even
calling Del Torro a feminist for it. To
me, this is not feminism. It shows
nothing more but the male gaze of
a straight male director. Why do
we need to see Elisa’s naked body
multiple times throughout the film,
but her amphibian lover doesn’t
even have genitalia? Sure, he might
technically be “naked” throughout
the film, but he is a fish: with
scales covering his entire body and
webbed hands, he’s not so sexy.
Why is her body objectified when
he gets his privacy?
Another
appalling
theme
that seems to have slipped by The
Academy is the fetishization of
Elisa’s muteness, a fact which is
unbelievably offensive, gross and
twisted. Throughout the movie,
the main antagonist, Colonel
Richard Strickland, expresses a
boorish sexual desire towards
Elisa based solely on the fact that
she is mute. In Matt Lauer fashion,
Strickland locks Elisa in his office
and proceeds to tell her how he
would like to have sex with her
because she would not be able to
verbally refuse.
How is this “feminism”? In
light of the #MeToo movement,
this is what the The Academy
picked?
This
isn’t
sexual
liberation;
it’s
just
another
reinforcement of the backwards
construction of gender in our
society: the domineering man and
his submissive female subordinate.
As
the
director,
Del
Torro
could have been so much more
groundbreaking with the way
he utilized a female protagonist.
Instead, he chose to focus on her
sex appeal and the fetishization of
her disability.
I think this has something to do
with the fact that so many movies
in Hollywood continue to be
directed by men. For example, even
after the publicity of the #MeToo
Movement, only one out of every
22 directors is a female — that’s
only 4 percent! Furthermore, the
trend is reflected during awards
season: Not a single woman was
nominated for best director award
at this year’s Golden Globe awards.
And this year, Rachel Morrison
became the very first woman to
be nominated for the award for
Best Cinematography for her work
on the film Mudbound. I’m not
jumping to any conclusions, but
I can’t help but wonder about the
correlation between a constant
need to sexualize women and
the looming presence of male
directors. Perhaps if we had
more female directors, then the
ubiquitous male eye would dissolve
and allow female characters to be
presented in something other than
a sensual manner.
When I learned that Octavia
Spencer had a role in The Shape
of Water, I was excited. After all,
she is the first black woman in
Hollywood history to have three
Oscar nominations (one of which
became a win). However, much to
my disappointment, it became very
clear within the first few scenes
exactly what type of role Octavia
would be playing: a supporting
character. Her character, Zelda,
is so overlooked that I barely even
noticed she was there. I am so
tired of seeing black actors being
represented as secondary to an
all-white cast. I understand this
movie is supposed to take place
during the 1960s, a period marked
by racial segregation, but if the
main character’s love interest is
an amphibian, would it really be so
crazy to have a black heroine too?
How have we gotten to the point
where a non-human creature has a
bigger role in a movie than Octavia
Spencer? How can a movie that is
nominated for 13 Academy Awards
operate on such a primitive model
of racial representation?
The Shape of Water isn’t groundbreaking
CARLI COSENZA | COLUMN
MARGOT
LIBERTINI
Read more at
MichiganDaily.com
Carli Cosenza can be reached at
carlic@umich.edu.
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Why treat the
oppression of
animals and
humans as being
unconnected?
STEPHANIE
TRIERWEILER