Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Tuesday, April 10, 2018
F
rom the ages of three
to 17, dance was my
“thing” — my
primary
after-
school activity, my
source of exercise,
my creative outlet.
Though
I
never
intended to dance
professionally,
my
experiences with the
discipline have had
an enormous impact
on me. I committed
hours upon hours each week
to ballet, tap, jazz and modern
styles as a child and teenager.
While
dance
gave
me
strength,
flexibility,
balance,
an artistic way to express
myself,
incredible
memories
and a powerful sense of focus,
it also reinforced a mentality of
perfectionism that I have since
found hard to shake. And while
dance isn’t completely to blame
for these thought patterns in
me, they have certainly gone
hand in hand.
In ballet — which is often
described as the foundation of
all dance — you aim essentially
to achieve perfection: perfect
posture, perfect body placement
and perfect lines. Dancers contort
themselves
into
unnatural
positions to create this illusion by
turning their hips, legs and feet
out, dancing “en pointe” (on their
toes), etc. Though ballet demands
an ideal nearly impossible to
achieve, dancer training can act
as a kind of journey to hover ever
closer to that perfect, seemingly
effortless performance.
Growing up, I would use
my
dance
studio’s
floor-to-
ceiling mirrors to examine the
technical and physical minutiae
of my positions and self-adjust
constantly.
Teachers
would
give
constructive
criticisms
of dancers’ movements every
few seconds and occasionally
comment
on
our
bodies.
We’d rehearse each piece of
choreography to death leading
up to end-of-year performances
and compete with one another
for coveted lead roles.
Since
coming
to
the
University of Michigan, I’ve
continued to pursue perfection,
which had felt so salient in my
years as a dancer. And I’ve noticed
similar
thought
patterns
of
perfectionism, overachievement
and competitiveness in many of
my classmates. It seems natural
in
the
environment
here.
Our
role
as
college students at a
top university asks
us to constantly work
toward high grades
in our classes and
involve ourselves in
the
“best”
possible
extracurricular
activities,
jobs
and
internships.
This
forward-looking,
overachieving approach is often
thought of as an important
component
to
developing
perseverance,
discipline
and
drive. The University implicitly
encourages
perfectionism
through deeming its students
the “Leaders and Best.” But
I’ve found it difficult to sever
my perfectionistic approach to
my work from other aspects of
my life — to put the cycles of
self-critique that come with
perfectionism on pause and
just be.
I stopped dancing when
I came to the University. I
explored
different
interests,
focused on academics and found
my place on campus. Unlike
in dance, I can’t measure my
success in college by the height
of my jumps or the precision of
my turns — seeing my progress
laid out in the mirror in front
of me — but I still began to
consistently judge my work in
other ways, striving toward
earning
typical
benchmarks
of achievement like As and
internships.
At the same time, in focusing
on other aspects of my life, I
wound up spending two years
lacking
a
regular
exercise
routine, trying to squeeze in
time for late-night visits to the
gym
and
feeling
completely
disconnected from my body. On
a whim the summer after my
sophomore year of college, I
bought an unlimited summer
package at a yoga studio a
few minutes away from my
Chicago apartment.
And though I didn’t enter
that studio intending to find
anything more than a regular
class schedule for workouts,
practicing
yoga
seriously
changed my relationship with
myself. It helped me begin to
unwind the years of conditioning
that motivated me to sacrifice
my well-being in pursuit of
achievement. Since taking it up,
I have not only been able to find
strength, flexibility and most
other benefits of dance, but I also
surprised myself by creating a
small space to shed my inclination
to yearn for perfection.
The rooms of the studios
where
I’ve
practiced
are
mirrorless.
There’s
no
performance at the end of the
year to look to. Movement
is appreciated for the sake
of movement and not for an
audience. No one competes with
you, and you don’t even compete
with
yourself.
Process
and
presence are valued. Teachers
correct you only to prevent
injury or suggest a deeper
expression of a pose. There’s no
such thing as a perfect pose. You
meet each class with what you
have, and it’s enough.
Through yoga, I’ve sought
a sense of daily presence and
acceptance of things as they
are. And while I get this feeling
through
exercise,
I
truly
believe exploring any space
and taking any regular time
to cultivate acceptance of our
present
selves
is
absolutely
paramount to success in college.
Various facets of our lives may
take unexpected twists and
turns, and perfection doesn’t
truly exist. In an environment
where
overachieving
is
the
norm and where individual
accomplishment is idealized,
we must take time to separate
our worth from our résumé and
from our work.
Shedding perfectionism
STEPHANIE TRIERWEILER | COLUMN
Stephanie Trierweiler can be
reached at strier@umich.edu.
Emma Chang
Joel Danilewitz
Samantha Goldstein
Elena Hubbell
Emily Huhman
Tara Jayaram
Jeremy Kaplan
Sarah Khan
Lucas Maiman
Magdalena Mihaylova
Ellery Rosenzweig
Jason Rowland
Anu Roy-Chaudhury
Alex Satola
Ali Safawi
Ashley Zhang
Sam Weinberger
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The truth behind your sandwich
CARLI COSENZA | COLUMN
I
magine this. It’s lunchtime.
You’ve just had a busy
morning of class and now
have an hour before
your
next
lecture.
Since you’re feeling
hungry, you decide to
walk to the Michigan
Union
to
grab
a
bite to eat. Stomach
grumbling, you head
downstairs
to
the
basement, which has
a variety of fast-food
options. You’re in the
mood
for
chicken,
which is perfect because there’s
a Wendy’s right past the bottom
of the stairs. You walk up to
the register and place your
order: a spicy chicken sandwich
($4.69),
medium-sized
fries
($1.99) and a small soft drink
($1.69). The total amount that
you pay for your meal adds up to
approximately $8.37. Pleased by
the low price and quick service,
you walk away excited to eat,
oblivious to the fact that the
price you just paid for your meal
is more than a worker’s daily
wage at the farm where Wendy’s
gets its tomatoes.
Two
weeks
ago,
nearly
100
farmworkers
and
their
allies held a protest in New
York City outside the office of
Trian Partners. Nelson Peltz is
the chairman of the Wendy’s
Board of Directors and CEO of
Trian Partners, Wendy’s largest
shareholder.
The
protesters
stood outside Peltz’s office for
five days, during which they
fasted to call attention to the
human rights abuses toward
farmworkers that have been
occurring for decades in the
Wendy’s
supply
chain
and
protested the fact that Wendy’s
hasn’t signed a binding Fair
Food Agreement.
Wendy’s is one of the five
major
food
corporations
in
the United States, along with
fast
food
forerunners
like
McDonald’s and Burger King.
On its website, the company
boasts about its workers: “From
our headquarters to the amazing
employees in every location,
we like to think of Wendy’s
as a big family.” However, the
reality of how Wendy’s treats
its employees — specifically
the farmworkers who produce
the
company’s
supply
of
“hand-chopped tomatoes” — is
astonishingly different. It is time
that consumers boycott Wendy’s.
Now,
imagine
something
different. You’re 14 years old,
living in one of the poorest
regions of southwestern Mexico.
According
to
Mexican
law,
you’re too young to be employed.
But the law doesn’t apply to
you because the only thing
that matters is that you are
meeting quota. Who are you?
You’re a farmworker in a labor
camp for a company called
Bioparques
de
Occidente,
which
is
a
major
tomato
grower. It produces as many as
6 million boxes of tomatoes for
the U.S. market each year and
is also a supplier of tomatoes
for Wendy’s. That’s right, the
same tomatoes that are found
on a spicy chicken sandwich.
As a farmworker
in the labor camp,
you
sleep
head-
to-toe with other
workers on concrete
floors. You’re forced
to protect yourself
from
scorpions
and bedbugs. Each
morning,
you
receive a stack of
tortillas
that
is
supposed
to
last
you throughout the day, which
will be spent picking, sorting
and carrying heavy buckets of
tomatoes in 90-degree heat.
You have to work quickly. If
you don’t fill a minimum of
60 buckets with tomatoes,
then you will not receive
your pay for the day, which is
100 pesos, or the equivalent
of approximately eight U.S.
dollars.
Conditions
are
miserable. You just want to
be at home playing with your
siblings. But you cannot stop
working or attempt escape
from the labor camp because
you’re afraid of what your
bosses will do to you. Last
week, another field worker
asked for extra tortillas for her
children and was threatened
with a slap from her boss.
The memory — and fear from
witnessing the threat — is still
fresh in your mind.
These are the conditions
that hundreds of farmworkers
have been forced to live
under for decades, as major
American corporations like
Wendy’s
have
outsourced
their labor costs to camps
like Bioparques de Occidente
in other countries. In 2014,
a federal investigation was
launched against Bioparques
de
Occidente
after
a
successful escapee reported
the abusive conditions to
authorities.
The
company
was found to have violated
health and labor laws and was
ordered to pay a $700,000
fine.
Once information from the
investigation reached other
field workers and farmers
across North America, they
decided to take action and
form the Fair Foods Program,
which is composed of farmers,
farmworkers and retail food
companies.
The
widely-
acclaimed, uniquely successful
organization seeks to raise
awareness about and provide
humane wages and working
conditions for farmworkers,
along with giving them a
representative voice. The FFP
has received recognition from
major organizations and its
efforts were even recognized
by the White House in 2013.
Today,
the
FFP
has
partnered with almost all
of the major food retailers
and fast food restaurants,
including
Chipotle,
Burger
King, Trader Joe’s, Subway
and
McDonalds.
But
not
Wendy’s. In fact, in response
to
pressure
to
join
the
FFP, Wendy’s retaliated. It
abandoned its longtime Florida
tomato supplier and shifted its
purchases to Bioparques in
Mexico in support of a work
environment
derived
from
fear, violence and corruption.
Furthermore,
Wendy’s
released a modified supplier
code of conduct that contains
“no
effective
mechanisms
for
worker
participation
or
enforcement,”
despite
Bioparques’s proven history of
human rights violations.
In October 2016, Wendy’s
released
a
statement
regarding
its
relationship
with Bioparques: “We are
quite happy with the quality
and taste of the tomatoes we
are sourcing from Mexico.”
But what about the quality of
life for the workers who picked
the tomatoes with their bare
hands so that consumers across
the continent can enjoy a spicy
chicken sandwich that costs the
equivalent of a day’s salary?
Personally, I can’t eat a
sandwich knowing that the
process to make it consciously
violates human rights law. I
cannot eat tomatoes that were
picked by the hands of an
underage child in a labor camp
that doesn’t even provide beds
for its workers. Furthermore,
I cannot support a company
that knowingly perpetuates
human rights abuses in order
to have a cost advantage over
its competitors. And I cannot
support
a
company
that’s
board of directors has the
information and power to end
the violent conditions forced
upon its farmworkers but
refuses to take meaningful
action to end it even though
a viable solution (the FFP) is
right at its fingertips.
The
five-day
fast
in
Manhattan was only a small
fraction of the hunger pains
felt by Wendy’s farmworkers
at Bioparques de Occidente
labor camp. But as consumers,
we can make an impact too. If
enough informed consumers
boycott Wendy’s, then maybe
the Board of Directors will
be forced to acknowledge the
inhumanity of their behavior.
It is time for Wendy’s to
follow through with its “big
family” ideals. Until then, I
boycott Wendy’s, and I think
that the rest of us should too.
Carli Cosenza can be reached at
carlic@umich.edu.
I can’t eat a sandwich
knowing that the
process to make it
consciously violates
human rights law.
I can’t measure
my success in
college by the
height of my
jumps or the
precision of my
turns.
KARUNA NANDKUMAR | OP-ED
O
n March 24, University
of Michigan students
marched for their lives.
In January 2017 and 2018,
thousands of college students
marched for the protection
of their rights and diversity.
Now, imagine if those 4 million
citizens gathered throughout
the country in protest had been
gunned down.
This is essentially what
occurred six years ago in
Syria. The violent response to
a peaceful 2011 uprising against
President
Bashar
al-Assad
spiraled into a civil war that
has
killed
and
displaced
millions. The situation is not
improving. On March 27, the
U.N. Emergency Coordinator
Mark Lowcock reported that
“the last few months have
been some of the worst yet
for
many
civilians
inside
Syria.” The Syrian conflict
displays a detrimental failure
of international cooperation.
However, the innovative use
of international law will be
necessary to achieve peace
and reconciliation.
The past six years make
it easy to become a cynic.
Negotiations
have
been
unsuccessful,
because
the
rebels will not stop fighting
until the seemingly impossible
abdication
of
the
Syrian
government. To complicate the
situation, major world powers
have become involved. Russian
interference has shifted the
balance of power in favor of
the government. The Syrian
opposition, trained by the U.S.
and Turkey, maintains faith
that international law lies in
their favor. The U.N. has,
in fact, passed resolutions
that “reiterate the need for
political
transition.”
The
question is whether we can
overcome the bureaucracy of
international law.
Both sides have committed
war crimes and crimes against
humanity, including torture,
use of chemical weapons and
violence
against
civilians.
Human
Rights
Watch
has
collected enough evidence to
ensure the delivery of justice in
international tribunals. First,
however, we must create these
tribunals. In a perfect world,
the U.S. or another power
could submit the case to the
International Criminal Court,
but Syria is not a member of
the ICC, and would probably
not be willing to join anytime
soon. The only body with the
power to authorize the use of
the ICC for a non-member state
or create an ad hoc tribunal
is the U.N. Security Council.
When the UNSC referred the
case to the ICC in 2014, the
resolution was vetoed by Russia
and China.
Though the situation seems
hopeless,
International
Law
Specialist Nicholas Koumjian
would disagree. In his recent
lecture
at
the
University,
Koumjian
insisted
upon
the
value
of
international
justice, even if it comes at a
slow pace and high economic
cost.
International
justice
has tangible benefits, such as
satisfaction for the victims
and
deterrence
of
future
crimes. Victims of the Bosnian
genocide confirmed that the
punishment of even a few guilty
persons can restore a sense of
the righteousness of the world.
We
must
renew
the
search for an international
solution to the Syrian crisis.
Every additional hour of war
indicates
increased
human
rights violations, U.S. dollars
spent on airstrikes and refugees
flooding the shores of Europe.
Universal jurisdiction or the
prosecution of Russia could
provide short-term relief.
The principle of universal
jurisdiction upholds the ideal
that national courts charge
individuals
with
crimes
against international law. An
uninvolved
state,
therefore,
could
potentially
convict
criminals fleeing the Syrian
conflict. If the United States
or another power was truly
determined, it could also charge
Russia, an ICC member, with
involvement in international
crimes. Russia recently lost its
seat on the U.N. Human Rights
Council. While these are both
feasible options, realistically
immense
exterior
pressure
would be required to convince
states to take actions that could
jeopardize relationships with
Russia and China.
No matter what occurs,
it is imperative that a peace
agreement outlines a framework
for judicial proceedings that
address perpetrators on both
sides of the conflict. Bilateral
tribunals will inevitably result
in the removal of the Assad
regime.
Syrian
survivors
insist that peace cannot come
without justice. The crimes
of the regime are too broad
to be ignored. International
or
hybrid
courts
should
also
operate
close
to
the
community to assist in the
restorative process.
In the long-term, the UNSC
should be reformed to prevent
abuses of veto powers that
impede the protection of human
rights.
The
international
legal system is still a work
in
progress.
As
Koumjian
concluded,
international
justice is not perfect, but it’s
better than nothing. In the
case of Syria, it can make
the difference between the
continuation of a catastrophic
conflict and the transition to a
brighter future.
Stuck in Syria
Karuna Nandkumar is an LSA
freshman.
CARLI
COSENZA
STEPHANIE
TRIERWEILER
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