“M

y hair was long 
then. Long like 
the 
sighs 
of 
Loving Trees soaking in the still air 
before rain. I could hear their voices 
with the anticipation of thunder.”
Hello and welcome to my first 
novel! Well, the first line of my first 
novel. Actually, the first line of the first 
novel I tried to write. I was 14 when I 
scribbled this line into a notebook 
margin, and it eventually ended 
up in the notes section on my 
phone - a place where prose goes 
to die.
I titled this prose graveyard 
“Shower Thoughts,” though few 
of the lines collected there actually 
came to me in the shower. They fall, 
seemingly from nowhere, into my 
head. They dribble down into my 
hand where I can either write them 
down or feebly clutch them for a 
moment before they disintegrate 
back into vapor, waiting to condense 
once again into someone else’s brain. 
I rarely used these lines in any actual 
writing. I just wrote them down so no 
one else could have them.
I have kept “Shower Thoughts” 
since middle school. A kind of diary, it 
chronicles my thoughts and feelings 
throughout my teens. As I scroll back 
through, I am reminded of moments 
both momentous and insignificant. 
I can see through the emotional 
kaleidoscope of my 15-year-old eyes 
as I waited for something important 
to happen to me, like all the young 
adult novels said it would. It captures 
in amber my perspective at one 
particular moment in my life.
As a junior, I find myself sitting 
anxiously at one of life’s many 
thresholds. With childhood behind 
and adulthood ahead, I lie in wait, 
in between. I feel achingly far away 
from this young person who wrote 
and imagined all the time. I am not 
pursuing the dreams she had for 
me: I am not majoring in English, I 
am not yet a published author, and I 
won’t be studying abroad in the U.K. 
(where I won’t be falling in love with 
a beautiful Scotsman who wears 
cable knit sweaters and is in touch 
with his feelings). Despite all of this, 
I want to make sure I am somehow 
still me.

This column will be about 
that shifting of self and how one 
can reconcile who they were at an 
unformed 15 with who they are at 21, 
fighting for a place at the adults’ table. 
I will be rifling through my prose 
graveyard and exhuming bodies, 
breathing life back into the moments 
that birthed them and asking how 
they feel about where I am now with 
my life.

The line that opened this column 
was meant to be the first line of my 
first novel. I was fixated on the idea 
of being a child but writing for adults, 
amazing everyone with a beyond-
my-years maturity and complexity of 
thought. Once it became a bestseller, 
Anne Hathaway and Leonardo 
DiCaprio would star in the film 
adaptation. I had the whole thing 
sketched out in my head, but getting 
it onto paper proved more difficult. 
Not that I tried very hard. I was fairly 
certain that, when I decided to write 
it, the whole book would just pour 
out, standing there shocked and 
gawking like Adam moments after 
his creation. I trusted my future self 
to make this dream come true for the 
both of us.
Freshman year, I did so to a 
certain extent. I wrote a book, 250 
pages in six weeks. I took a class on 
children’s literature and our final 
project was to write and illustrate a 
children’s storybook. I decided this 
was my chance to fulfill my dream, 
so I swapped the storybook for a 
children’s novel. There would be 
no bowing to laziness or boredom 
if I had the threat of an academic 
deadline on my horizon. So, I wrote 

a plan. I wrote character descriptions 
and plot outlines, and did extensive 
research. When I set to actually 
writing, the pace was grueling. It was 
regimented and difficult, and some 
days the words just refused to come. 
To top it off, I was 19 and writing for 
11 and 12 year olds, something I would 
have considered an unthinkable 
embarrassment at 14.
Writing a book, it turns out, 
is really hard (Who knew?). My 
romantic delusions obscured the 
inconvenient reality that inevitably 
manages to seep in once we get to a 
certain age. The line with which I 
opened this column always evokes 
in me an all-consuming idealism. I 
can once again feel how it felt to have 
those words fall from the sky and into 
my churning mind. I can practically 
feel the weight of the imagined novel 
in my hands, knowing I would one 
day make this dream come true.
The reality was far worse and 
far better than how I had pictured it, 
both in the accomplishment and in its 
promise for the future. I accomplished 
something I had dreamt about since 
I was eight years old, proving that 
I am unstoppable if I choose to be. 
However, the experience also begged 
me to question in what other ways 
I am romanticizing my ideas of the 
future. I imagine going to law school 
and eventually becoming a living 
version of a character from “The 
West Wing.”
In theory, I know that path won’t 
be easy. I’m sure I will look back 
at my college years and chuckle at 
the idealism of my undergraduate 
kaleidoscope. Choosing to major in 
public policy instead of English is 
not the first time my ambitions will 
change. However, I hope I always 
manage to find things to look forward 
to in the most abstract of ways. And 
as I go, I will work to reconcile these 
different parts of myself—my past, 
present and future—and keep them 
all in balance. Make sure they learn 
from one another. And, eventually, get 
Anne and Leo to star in an adaptation 
of the book I trust my future self to 
write one day.

Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Monday, September 10, 2018

Emma Chang
Ben Charlson
Joel Danilewitz
Samantha Goldstein
Emily Huhman

Tara Jayaram
Jeremy Kaplan
Lucas Maiman
Magdalena Mihaylova
Ellery Rosenzweig
Jason Rowland

Anu Roy-Chaudhury
Alex Satola
Ali Safawi
Ashley Zhang
Sam Weinberger

DAYTON HARE
Managing Editor

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Ann Arbor, MI 48109
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Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.

ALEXA ST. JOHN
Editor in Chief
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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

MARISA WRIGHT | COLUMN

Let’s talk about women’s health
I

f you walk into almost any 
hospital or major health center 
in the United States, there will 
be some sort of Women’s Health 
Center on the directory. In some 
ways, these can be really good things. 
They allow women to access focused 
specialists in one convenient location, 
which is especially important since 
women often encounter doctors who 
doubt their pain or do not take their 
symptoms seriously. These kinds of 
areas can also be a refuge of privacy 
and healing for many women who are 
experiencing extremely traumatic 
medical problems or diagnoses.
However, setting aside a different 
part of the hospital specifically for 
women acts as a metaphor for the 
culture in which medical issues 
primarily faced by women are dealt 
with over there. They are dealt with 
in places that are not as visible or 
frankly, accessible, to everyone. When 
they are out of sight, and therefore out 
of mind, these illnesses, diseases and 
maladies are not acknowledged or 
grappled with as much as they should 
be in proportion to how many people 
they affect.
This past summer, I learned the 
implications of this dismissive culture 
the hard way. At the end of June, I was 
on a flight home from New York City 
when I began to have excruciating 
pain. While exiting the airplane, I 
collapsed in pain, and an ambulance 
eventually rushed me off the tarmac 
to the nearest hospital. After several 
uncomfortable 
ultrasounds, 
I 
was alerted that I needed to have 
emergency 
laparoscopic 
surgery 
around 2:00 AM. Once the anesthesia 
wore off later that day, my surgeon 
informed me they had diagnosed 
me with a chronic illness called 
stage IV endometriosis, as well as 
adenomyosis. If you’re like me or 
almost everyone else, you probably 
have no idea what endometriosis is, if 
you’ve even heard of it at all.
Endometriosis is a chronic illness 
in which endometrium, the tissue 
that lines the inside of the uterus, 
sheds but does not exit a woman’s 
body during menstruation. Inside 
of her body, it can grow outside of 
her uterus and spread to organs 
and nerves around the pelvic area 
(though endometrial tissue has been 
found as far away as the lungs). As a 
result, the woman may experience 
incapacitating pain so physically 

and emotionally insufferable that it 
dominates and controls almost every 
corner of her life: career, social life, 
sleep, relationships, sexual activity, 
diet and hobbies.
Though endo is incurable, it 
is highly treatable. The problem 
is that it is so rarely treated in a 
timely manner because it is so often 
ignored or misdiagnosed by doctors 
who lack the education about 
women’s health and endometriosis 
specifically. 
Because 
of 
endo’s 
variety of symptoms, women may be 
diagnosed with common maladies 
such as appendicitis, irritable bowel 
syndrome, 
sciatic 
nerve 
pain, 
ruptured ovarian cysts, depression, 
functional 
pain 
syndrome, 
etc. 
According to the Endometriosis 
Foundation of America, one in 10 
women and girls suffer from endo; 
however, the average woman is 27 
years old before she is diagnosed. 
I suffered through this disease 
untreated for seven years. And I 
was one of the lucky ones who was 
diagnosed earlier than most women.
And while I was lucky to be 
diagnosed earlier than many, I 
could have been diagnosed earlier. 
When I was 13, I was rushed to the 
hospital after collapsing in pain at 
home. Barely conscious, I endured 
several ultrasounds and eventually, 
an appendectomy (removal of my 
appendix). Out of curiosity, my mom 
recently requested and reviewed 
my records from that surgery. 
The notes and images indicate 
signs of endometriosis that were 
not heeded. Though it is almost 
impossible now to know if I truly 
had appendicitis or the doctors 
misdiagnosed my endometriosis, 
I know my body and I remember 
that pain. It was the same pain I 
have experienced for seven years, 
including the time I collapsed 
after exiting an airplane and had 
the emergency surgery that finally 
discovered my endometriosis.
I am not a person who wishes 
to share personal information, 
especially 
sensitive 
medical 
information, with people I do not 
know and trust deeply. But maybe if 
I had heard about this illness before, 
I could have brought my suspicions 
to my doctor. I might have been 
diagnosed earlier, and I might have 
been able to receive treatment and 
limited the amount of suffering and 

extreme pain I experienced as a 
result of endo.
There 
are 
probably 
many 
reasons why I had never heard 
of this illness before, but I think 
that the disregard for and stigma 
surrounding issues primarily faced 
by women is chief among them. 
When we advise young girls to hide 
their sanitary pads and tampons in 
a bag or pouch in public or make 
noises and faces indicating feelings 
of being grossed out at the mention 
of her period, we are cultivating a 
culture of shame around her natural 
biological functions. When we tell 
women and girls that intense pain 
during their period is normal, we 
are reinforcing false narratives and 
information about women’s health 
and wellness. And when we chastise 
them for being overdramatic about 
their pain or any symptoms they are 
experiencing, we are delaying their 
access to an accurate diagnosis and 
effective treatment.
I am not making the case to 
eliminate designated areas of 
health centers dedicated to serving 
women’s medical needs. In fact, 
I think they should probably be 
expanded and given more funding 
and resources so that more women 
and children are able to have access 
to all of the wonderful services 
they provide.
I simply believe we—you and 
me— all need to start having more 
conversations about issues women 
deal with, especially those that are 
health-related. We need more men 
to lean in, instead of detach and stop 
listening, to conversations about 
women and their health. As women, 
we also need to be more open and 
louder about our health and how it 
affects not only us but also how we 
are able to interact with the world 
and how the world can and should 
be interacting with us.
I hope that by sharing my story 
and subsequent health journey, 
I am able to bring some light to 
a vast world filled with matters 
women have been dealing with 
in private that is desperate for 
some illumination. I invite and 
encourage you to share your health 
process, too. Share with your 
family. Share with your friends. 
Share with the world.

Reconciliation of a triad

KENDALL HECKER | COLUMN

Trump’s South Africa sophism

ELIAS KHOURY | COLUMN

T

he 
Donald 
Trump 
administration is a circus. 
Naturally, amid all the 
chaos, many important stories get 
buried. I would like to turn your 
attention to a statement Trump 
made Aug. 22 via his favorite 
medium — Twitter.
“I have asked Secretary of 
State 
@SecPompeo 
to 
closely 
study the South Africa land farm 
seizures and expropriations and 
the large scale killing of farmers. 
‘South African Government is now 
seizing land from white farmers.’ @
TuckerCarlson @FoxNews”
This 
half-baked 
tweet 
is 
problematic for a variety of 
reasons. Firstly, as is so often 
the case with Trump, the claim 
is dubious at best. To be fair, 
the first part of the statement 
is 
not 
explicitly 
false, 
just 
misleading. 
Though 
a 
policy 
of land expropriation is being 
carried out by the South African 
government, to simply point 
that out and treat it as a problem 
without 
providing 
necessary 
context is dishonest in practice.
The discriminatory policies of 
South Africa’s former apartheid 
government created huge levels of 
societal inequality between white 
and Black people. The legacy of 
this morally reprehensible regime 
still haunts the country to this day. 
One of the many racist policies 
enacted under apartheid was the 
uncompensated theft of Black-
owned land and the confinement 
of the Black majority to only 7 
percent of the nation’s arable land.
The current land expropriation 
policy is an attempt at redressing 
apartheid era grievances. A 
returning of stolen goods, if you 
will. And the government is well 
within their legal right to do this: 
South Africa’s constitution allows 
for such action on the grounds 
of trying to right the wrongs of 
the past.
There is also a justification 
for doing this on the grounds 
of enhancing national welfare. 
Too much land in too few 
hands naturally creates market 
inefficiencies. In the words of 
former South African President 
Nelson 
Mandela: 
“(Land 
expropriation) fosters national 
reconciliation and stability. It 
underpins economic growth and 
improves household welfare and 
food security.”
The expropriation vision laid 
out by current South African 
President Cyril Ramaphosa is 
an extremely moderate one. His 
government has made a concerted 

effort to target unused land and 
abandoned buildings first and 
foremost to inconvenience as 
few people as possible. What 
Ramaphosa 
and 
the 
African 
National Congress are doing is a 
logical step forward for the South 
African nation and ought to be 
treated as such.
As for Trump’s second claim, 
there is no well-documented 
“large scale killing of farmers” 
taking place in South Africa right 
now. National police records 
show the financial year of 2017-
18 saw the lowest number of farm 
murders since 1991.
Factual inaccuracies aside, 
the casual observer may be left 
a bit confused by Trump’s tweet 
concerning South Africa. What 
do they have to do with us? The 
whole thing seems out of left 
field. South Africa—and all of 
Africa, for that matter—is all 
but nonexistent in everyday 

American political discourse.
However, the alleged plight of 
white South African farmers has 
become a hot-button issue with 
a rather unsavory crowd. The 
“alt-right” has, unsurprisingly, 
embraced the false narrative 
of white oppression and Black 
brutality 
wholesale. 
The 
promotion of this conspiracy 
theory seems to be a concerted 
effort by the movement to raise 
the racial consciousness of whites 
and incite a fear of Black people. 
Simply put, it’s a propaganda 
campaign meant to draw people to 
their cause of hatred and racism.
Naturally, the big names on 
the “alt-right” have been at the 
forefront of propagating this 
lie. Former Ku Klux Klan leader 
David Duke has spoken out 
extensively on the topic, referring 
to the land expropriation efforts as 
“white genocide.” Breitbart News 
Network, 
the 
self-proclaimed 
“platform for the alt right,” has 
published 
countless 
articles 
painting white farmers as helpless 
victims of their violent Black 

overlords.
“Alt-right” 
darling 
and 
popular 
YouTuber 
Lauren 
Southern 
recently 
came 
out 
with a documentary peddling 
the 
conspiracy 
theory 
called 
“Farmlands.” The film has been 
met with much-deserved backlash 
largely due to the fact that it’s 
little more than a collection of 
unverified anecdotes about white 
farmers who were victims of 
violence. Sad? Yes, but the film’s 
assertion that these instances are 
indicative of a broader trend is 
simply not true.
It’s worth noting Southern’s 
far-right activism has gotten 
her into trouble in the past. 
Back in 2017, she was detained 
by the Italian Coast Guard for 
attempting to block a refugee boat 
in the Mediterranean. She then 
was subsequently banned from 
entering the UK while on a trip to 
meet with Generation Identity—a 
neo-Nazi terrorist organization 
that has set up military—style 
training camps across Europe.
Trump’s propagation of this 
racist conspiracy theory is just the 
latest in a long line of instances in 
which he has marched in lockstep 
with these bad actors. In the past 
he called “alt right” protestors at 
Charlottesville “very fine people,” 
retweeted 
Islamophobic 
posts 
by the deputy leader of fascist 
political 
organization 
Britain 
First and retweeted a fake crime 
statistic published originally by 
a neo-Nazi group exaggerating 
Black on white murder rates. I 
could go on, but I won’t.
Trump no longer has the 
benefit of plausible deniability. 
Richard Spencer is not the face of 
the “alt-right”—Trump is. With 
the infiltration of such an ideology 
into the highest political office in 
our country, what were once the 
worst elements of the fringe have 
become the new mainstream. A 
serious swing of the pendulum 
will be needed, and fast, if we 
want to restore order.
Moreover, with Trump stating 
he ordered Secretary of State 
Mike 
Pompeo 
to 
investigate, 
our foreign policy is openly 
functioning off of a foundation 
of lies and propaganda. Though 
not unprecedented, this is an 
abject disgrace and beneath us as 
a country. Everything about this 
situation screams “DANGER!,” 
yet the story largely flew under 
the radar.

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Elias Khoury can be reached at 

ekhoury@umich.edu

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420 Maynard

Trump no longer 
has the benefit 
of plausible 
deniability. 

The experience 
also begged me 
to quesion in 
what ways I am 
romanticizing 
my ideas of the 
future.

Marisa Wright can be reached at 

marisadw@umich.edu

Kendall Hecker can be reached at 

kfhecker@umich.edu