Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Wednesday, September 5, 2018
Emma Chang
Ben Charlson
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
DAYTON HARE
Managing Editor
420 Maynard St.
Ann Arbor, MI 48109
tothedaily@michigandaily.com
Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.
ALEXA ST. JOHN
Editor in Chief
ANU ROY-CHAUDHURY AND
ASHLEY ZHANG
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
ERIN WHITE | COLUMN
The Epitome of Hometown Hero
A
retha Franklin has
lovingly been coined
the Queen of Soul.
Her decades of music have
represented her roots through
powerhouse hits and beautiful
ballads, and her legacy as one
of the greatest vocalists of all
time is eternal. Her recent
death has left members of every
generation remembering the
impact of soul on the music
industry, but more importantly,
the communities that fostered
its growth. And no community
has
celebrated
this
impact
as extensively as Franklin’s
hometown: Detroit, Michigan.
As Franklin’s career began
to take off, there was never
a doubt about from where
her understanding of music
came. Her early years in the
considered “home of blues”
were
fundamental
to
her
musical elocution and ability.
Daughter to a Detroit pastor,
Franklin was raised on the
music
of
Baptist
churches
and quickly became a singer
for her father’s New Bethel
Baptist Church. These gospel
influences
are
what
made
Franklin’s voice so memorable
and improvisational, and both
gospel techniques and jazz
rhythms
were
discernible
throughout
her
six-decade
career. Just as these stylistic
choices
remained
based
in
Detroit, so did her heart and
life. While she spent time
touring,
Franklin
shuttled
between the various venues
across the country and her
hometown of Detroit, finally
moving back in 1982. Her time
spent in Detroit showed love
for a city that truly loved her
back. She was a philanthropist
who donated and gave back to
her father’s church, sending
$10,000 checks several times
a year. She organized annual
concerts and holiday meals.
She has been recognized for
supporting
other
churches
and local food banks in the
area. And she always made her
presence quiet and humble.
Detroit
is
the
home
of
the popular American music
movement known as Motown,
and it is also a center for gospel,
R&B, jazz and blues. These
musical influences are a staple
of Detroit culture and give the
city’s artistic world something to
look up to and of which be proud.
Despite this rich cultural
history
and
the
fact
that
Detroit
has
recently
been
regarded as “up and coming”
and “rebuilding,” the city has
not been immune to negative
coverage and opinion in the last
few decades, especially around
the time of the city’s well-
documented 2013 bankruptcy.
Articles
with
titles
like
“Detroit: a city in decline” and
“Anatomy of Detroit’s Decline”
in
well-read
publications
are
what
have
fueled
the
pessimistic national narrative
of Detroit.
Dangerous.
Inefficient.
Frightening.
These are only some of the
descriptors outsiders are used
to hearing about the Motor
City. People look in on Detroit
from far away and question
its livelihood. They look at
its missteps and make those
blunders its entire existence.
But a city is so much more
than
strictly
numbers
and
generalizations. A city is built
on people. And the culture
of Detroit is something that
shows these people to the
world. When you see that
culture, Detroit begins to mean
something to you. Living in
Metro Detroit my entire life, I
have always viewed the city in
a different light than the media
would like me to see.
Artistic. Resilient. Strong.
Detroit has a unique energy,
and it moves those who care
enough to search for it. Franklin
made people want to search. She
was a mouthpiece for everything
Detroit stands for, and a constant
reminder of what can come from
a place like Detroit. A city with
culture, history, heart. A city
that makes you work. A city that
has undergone hardship and still
managed to persevere. Franklin
was a perfect example of the
type of success a community
like Detroit can create. She loved
her city, contributed to her city
and,
most
importantly,
was
present in the community. Her
contributions are what make her
the epitome of a hometown hero.
She was an advertisement for
everything Detroit means to the
people who live there.
In her death, Detroit quickly
turned from a place of mourning
to a place of celebration. Her life is
being memorialized in every corner
of the city, and the Queen of Soul
is being treated as royalty. There
have been constant reminders of
her life, from billboards up and
down every Detroit highway to
hundreds gathering at her church
to have a gospel choir tribute. Her
two-day open casket viewing at
the Charles H. Wright Museum
of African American History
brought in thousands of fans and
citizens who wished to pay their
respects. What you give to life will
come back to you. Franklin gave
her community everything she
had, and made sure the rest of the
world knew it too. In doing so, she
will forever be remembered as a
symbol of Detroit.
Human Being versus Football Fan
HANNAH HARSHE | COLUMN
T
he Urban Meyer scandal
of 2018 is exactly what
our misogynistic, self-
absorbed culture desperately
needed. Unfortunately, faced
with the opportunity to make
a powerful statement about
the gravity of domestic abuse
and the need for systemic
cultural change, the Ohio State
University Football Program
fundamentally failed.
The Urban Meyer scandal
of 2018 is exactly what our
misogynistic,
self-absorbed
culture
desperately
needed.
Unfortunately, faced with the
opportunity to make a powerful
statement about the gravity of
domestic abuse and the need for
systemic cultural change, the
Ohio State University football
program fundamentally failed.
Before I go any further, let me
first clarify that I say this not as
a football fan and a Wolverine,
but as a human being. Second,
let me also clarify that I don’t
necessarily believe Meyer should
have been fired.
In fact, let me backtrack a
little and give a quick summary for
those of you who are unfamiliar
with the recent scandal within
OSU’s
football
program.
Up
until this August, Zach Smith
was an assistant coach for the
OSU football team. Smith is the
grandson of Earle Bruce, the
iconic former OSU football coach
who, in his lifetime, served as a
mentor for Meyer, OSU’s current
head football coach.
Ultimately, the gist of the
scandal is this: Courtney Smith,
Zach
Smith’s
now
ex-wife,
pressed charges against Smith
for domestic abuse in both 2009
and 2015. It is widely implicated
that Meyer was aware of these
abuse allegations and swept them
under the rug in order to keep
Smith on his coaching staff, and
that he lied about doing so at Big
Ten Media Day.
After a report implied that
Meyer had intentionally looked
the other way from Smith’s alleged
domestic abuse, OSU put Meyer
on paid administrative leave
and launched an investigation
into Meyer’s handlings of the
issue.At this point, all eyes were
on the OSU football program.
Why? Well, college football fans
were curious about the fate of
one of the country’s powerhouse
football programs. But this issue
extends far beyond the realms
of college football. One in every
three women will experience
domestic abuse in her lifetime.
During the investigation into
Meyer, OSU had a once-in-a-
lifetime stage, an opportunity to
send an invaluable message about
the gravity of domestic violence
and how much more important
of an issue it is than winning
football games. But, like I said
before, OSU failed. Completely,
utterly failed.
First off, certain OSU fans
partied at an “Urban Meyer
rally” and tailgated outside of
the Board of Trustees meeting
that determined the fate of
Meyer’s career. This is despicable
because it shows a desire to win
football games at all costs, even
if it means treating a sensitive
issue like domestic abuse with
carelessness
and
disrespect.
However, I refuse to condemn all
of Buckeye nation simply because
of a few disgusting fans. I’m sure
every program has some fans
who would do the same thing.
When
the
investigation
concluded,
OSU
announced
Meyer
made
“insufficient”
actions regarding Zach Smith.
Meyer was not fired, but he
will have to serve a three-game
suspension. As measly as that
punishment
may
sound,
I’m
not an investigator and I don’t
know what Meyer knew and
did when faced with such a
sensitive issue. I can speculate,
but I can’t determine whether
OSU’s punishment for Meyer
is appropriate. In my opinion,
OSU’s ultimate failure comes in
the form of Meyer’s statements
during the press conference.
It’s important to remember
that the OSU investigation this
August was not an investigation
into whether or not Zach Smith
abused his wife. Therefore, any
he-said-she-said surrounding the
abuse allegations is irrelevant.
The
OSU
investigation
this
August was about how the
football program handled a issue
as delicate as domestic violence.
It’s about whether Meyer took
the
allegation
seriously
and
went to every length he could to
ensure it was properly reported
and investigated, or whether he
swept it under the rug. It’s not
an investigation into whether
Zach abused Courtney. It’s an
investigation into whether, in
the case that abuse may have
occurred, the football program
cares
more
about
properly
reporting abuse than it does
about winning football games.
In
his
press
conference,
Meyer never once addressed the
issue of domestic violence or
mentioned Courtney Smith. He
talked only about what a pain this
“situation” was to him and his
fans. He began by apologizing to
Buckeye Nation: “I followed my
heart, not my head.” When asked
what he would say to Courtney
Smith, he said, “I have a message
for everyone in this, I’m sorry we
are in this situation.”
I know I said earlier that my
disdain for OSU’s recent actions
comes from me as a human being,
not me as a football fan, but if you
know me, then you know that I
live and breathe college football
every fall. It’s nearly impossible to
separate Hannah the football fan
from Hannah the person. I hope
that if a similar situation were
to arise at Michigan, I would be
significantly more heartbroken
that someone was abused than
I would be at the thought that
Harbaugh could be fired.
Ultimately,
though
OSU
significantly missed the mark
when it comes to showing the
seriousness of an issue like
domestic
violence,
this
past
August should be a lesson learned
for all of us. Do we care about
complex, sensitive issues like
domestic violence no matter
what, or only when it’s good PR?
After OSU showed how not to
handle such an issue, let’s all look
a little more deeply into ourselves
and see if we would’ve handled it
the same way.
Hannah Harshe can be
reached at hharshe@umich.
‘They Don’t Want Our Intelligence’
ABBIE BERRINGER | COLUMNW
T
hey don’t want our
intelligence,”
a
classmate
of
mine
confidently
proclaimed
to
our 75-person Late American
Political Thought class last
spring. The statement was
followed by many nods of
agreement from the class.
Surprisingly
enough,
he
wasn’t talking about some
form of extraterrestrial life,
but rather about people living
in rural America.
Our
discussion
was
on
America’s
invisible
poor
a
topic we had been reading
about in “The Other America:
Poverty in the United States,”
an acclaimed book by Michael
Harrington
published
in
1962.
Harrington
described
the
ever-growing
economic
divide in the country during
the era of affluence, talking
about how as the middle class
grew, it was becoming farther
removed from the realities of
the impoverished, often rural
or deeply urban, American
communities. He used the
Appalachian region as one
example of a community that
was not seeing the increase
in wealth that other parts of
America were. In a very brief
summary that does not do the
book any justice, he talked
about how this inequality was
affecting the psyches of the
people in these communities
and those who were blind
to their struggles. He called
these
people
“The
Other
America” and described the
effect of being forgotten on
the residents and society as a
whole.
The student in my class’s
response was in answer to
the question “Why is there
a cycle of poverty in these
communities?” His answer
was that these people simply
don’t want our intelligence.
His
definition
of
“our”
referred to the people who
have been able to move up the
socioeconomic ladder— those
in the suburbs and cities who,
in his view, made it due to
their heightened intelligence.
What was surprising was how
much of our class seemed to
agree with his statement.
If this had been the only
time I had heard a student at the
University of Michigan voice
such a negative opinion about
America’s rural class, maybe I
would have chalked it up to one
case of ignorance, but, on the
contrary, I have heard many
similar statements among my
peers. In another conversation
in an earlier class, I overheard
two people discussing what
it was like to live in a small
town. A girl said, “I grew up in
a small town and it was awful.”
The boy she was talking to, in
an attempt to connect with her,
said, “Yeah I can imagine you
must have wanted to get out of a
place where people’s minds are
so small.”
After
the
election
of
President Donald Trump in
2016, I found myself shocked by
some of the statements made by
my peers describing what they
thought anyone who voted for
Trump must be like. Adjectives
that I’ve heard used include but
are not limited to: ignorant,
stupid, bigoted, racist, evil and
abhorrent. I felt an immense
amount of duty to defend the
people from rural America as
these were my people. I grew
up in rural communities and
have a deep respect for the
people in our country who
work our farms, fix our cars,
build our houses and keep our
streets safe from crime.
By now, many sociologists,
psychologists and journalists
have taken on the task of
looking
into
what
caused
so much of working class
America, particularly regions
such as the Rust Belt, which
have
historically
voted
Democrat for almost 20 years,
to make such a drastic switch
by voting overwhelmingly for
Trump. Every source from
Newsweek to CNN to USA
Today has published articles
citing
various
studies
and
proposing a myriad of theories.
One thing I know, however,
is that there has been very little
empathy in these articles for
the people they are analyzing,
as if they are nothing more
than animals in a zoo to be
evaluated and yet not truly
with whom to be related. Often
times these people’s feelings,
whether they are said to be
based on economic hardships,
cultural concerns or some form
of paranoia, are portrayed to be
inherently false, not grounded
in rational logic and out of
touch with reality.
Yet, it is not very often
that the people writing these
articles have truly seemed to
step into the shoes of these
individuals.
They
draw
a
very hard line based on what
they deem to be unacceptable
political
affiliations.
They
protest all over the country
in cities like Ann Arbor that
are touted as some of the most
“inclusive” places to live in
America, and yet they seem
to have little concern with
actually
empathizing
with
a portion of the population
large enough to come together
and vote Trump into office as
the president of the United
States.
What I see on our campus
is a deeply rooted classism
and elitism that breeds a
superiority complex that has
enabled our student body to
create an “us” and a “them”. We
see ourselves as the educated,
and therefore the superior
minds. Yet, and maybe as a
symptom of arrogant youth,
we lack an understanding of
how the environment and
livelihoods
of
the
people
in these communities have
shaped the way they think.
I have intentionally avoided
delving into the myriad of
theories as to why people in
rural
America
believe
the
things they do because that
is not the point of my article.
Rather, my point is this: On a
campus that preaches so much
“tolerance,” it is undoubtedly
hypocritical to hear people
talk so disgracefully about
rural
communities
the
way they do. Is it okay to
generalize
and
stereotype
them because we see them as
majority white? I certainly
don’t think so. Is it okay to call
them “stupid” or “ignorant”
because they don’t have what
we perceive as a high standard
of education? The average
liberal student may not say
so considering they’d never
make such statements about
people from other cultures or
of differing education systems
because this would be seen as
racist and culturally arrogant.
Yet we catch ourselves saying
these things about those in
rural America. It is time we
evaluate our own “tolerance”
as well as our own perceptions
of ourselves. If we truly are
“the leaders and the best,” it
is time that we realize that
the best leaders listen to those
who are struggling and truly
Aretha Franklin
was a constant
reminder of what
can come from a
place like Detroit.
JOIN OUR EDITORIAL BOARD
Our Editorial Board meets Mondays and Wednesdays 7:15-8:45 PM at
our newsroom at 420 Maynard Street. All are welcome to come discuss
national, state and campus affairs.
What I see on
our campus is
a deeply rooted
classism and
elitism
Abbie Berringer can be reached at
abbiebr@umich.edu
Erin White can be reached at
ekwhite@mich.edu
MICHIGAN DAILY MASS MEETINGS
Attend a mass meeting to learn more about The Daily and our various
sections!
September 11, 13, 17 and 19th at 7pm in The Michigan Daily newsroom at
420 Maynard