W
hile sitting in the hair
salon
attempting
a
“new look” for the
new school year, one of the stylists
mentioned a nasty Facebook post
about illegal immigrants. I froze,
waiting to see which side of the
debate my chatty new friends would
fall on. “Ridiculous!” she yelled.
“Time to unfriend this one.” I let out
a small breath and allowed myself
a grin. My hairdresser explained
that they never talk about politics
in the salon, but I laughed and told
her it was refreshing. We began
discussing the matter at hand, but
soon the conversation morphed into
other hot topics, from immigration
to religion to freedom of the press
to Trump’s politics. Despite the
generation gap and perspective on
religion, we agreed on many topics
plaguing the current news. But, the
most interesting part was how we
both viewed controversy.
I have always enjoyed open
conversations about politics. I’ll
never claim to be conservative, but
I can at least try to understand their
point of view. Even if I don’t agree
with the person I am talking to, I
try to understand and hopefully
respect their views. However, often
times we see people who get into
debates become more polarized in
their opinions by the time they are
done. Instead of listening to each
other and trying to find common
ground, they dig in their heels at the
slightest opposition — halting the
opportunity to grow.
But this conversation went
differently.
My
hairdresser
considered herself a moderate
liberal, but she told me how
important she thinks it is to talk to
people who don’t have the same
opinions. She encourages her
mother, a staunch liberal, to do
the same. In a country that doesn’t
take well to controversy, she is a
rare breed.
Some of our wisest and most
beloved
presidents
have
been
the ones to speak out against
this polarization. When George
Washington left office, he begged
America not to develop political
parties. Abraham Lincoln told us a
house divided cannot stand. So why
do we continually let our increasing
polarization tear our country apart?
According to a study done by
Pew Research Center, America is
becoming more and more polarized
by the year. While 20 years ago, your
views on racism had no relevance
to your views on the environment,
in today’s society, it is becoming
increasingly more likely that, if you
hold liberal or conservative views on
certain topics, it translates to other
topics as well, despite not having
anything to do with each other.
In the Pew Research Center
survey in 1994, only 3 percent of the
American population fell into the
consistently liberal category and 7
percent identified as consistently
conservative. However, in 2014,
12 percent of Americans were
consistently liberal and 9 percent
were
consistently
conservative.
Even
people
who
previously
considered themselves moderate
are moving further to the right and
left, with less little middle ground.
This in itself is not necessarily a
bad thing. However, this streamline
of ideals has been slowly leading
to more and more polarization
within parties, to the point where
one side cannot acknowledge the
other side’s good ideas simply
because they don’t come from their
own party. America is getting to
the point where people don’t just
disagree with the “other side,” but
they consider them bad people, and
occasionally a threat to the nation.
Pew Research Center found
that the percentage of Republicans
who had a very unfavorable
opinion of Democrats rose 26
percent between 1994 and 2014,
and the percentage of Democrats
who
had
very
unfavorable
opinions of Republicans rose
22 percent. With this dramatic
increase in animosity, it’s no wonder
Congress shuts down so often. It’s
hard enough to come to a consensus
on an issue no one agrees on. It’s
even harder when everyone actively
dislikes each other.
There are many factors involved
in the rise of polarization in politics.
David Blankenhorn, in his article in
The American Interest, highlights
the impact of growing diversity,
geographic and political sorting
and new political rules as some of
the ultimate causes of polarization
— some of which cannot and should
not be helped. However, some of
the more direct causes are ones for
which we ourselves are responsible:
the either/or mindset, thinking
uncertainty is a weakness and
looking for evidence that supports
a conclusion and ignoring facts, to
name a few. With simple answers
such as these, they should be simple
fixes. However, this polarization
runs deeper and is more prevalent
than we think.
The first and most important
step
for
depolarization
is
conversation.
Not
debate,
not
arguing — conversation. If we
can stop looking at each other
as Democrats and Republicans,
liberals and conservatives, and
start seeing each other as people
with different ideas, we might
start listening to each other. The
second step is to change our general
views on controversy. If we start
viewing it as challenging and
enlightening instead of frustrating
and polarizing, we can begin to
grow as individuals and as a society.
When we can start having civil,
controversial conversations with
our hairdressers, then maybe we’ll
finally understand each other.
Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Tuesday, September 11, 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
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
ALI SAFAWI | COLUMN
A call to action on substance use
A
ccording
to
a
story
published in The Michigan
Daily last spring, 25 percent
of students at the University use
Adderall
and
related
drugs,
despite only 9 percent of them
having a prescription.
Substance
use
disorder,
an
umbrella term for the harmful
use of psychoactive substances, is
increasingly being recognized as a
chronic brain disease. Therefore,
I use the term “substance use” as
opposed to “substance abuse” or
“addiction” because I do not want to
pass judgment on anyone’s behaviors
nor do I want to use words with
the weight of stigma attached.
Substance use rewires the brain’s
natural reward response, causing
the cravings so often associated with
these conditions. Despite this new
framework,
Alcoholics/Narcotics
Anonymous persists in promoting
the old dogma — that substance use
is a moral failing.
But, is the use of psychoactive
substances
at
the
University
of Michigan a problem worth
addressing? I think so. The Daily’s
survey
on
Adderall
brought
the misuse and trafficking of
prescription
drugs
on
campus
into the limelight for many people.
Putting aside the legal implications of
the Adderall trade on campus — it is
a federal crime to divert a controlled
substance to people without a
prescription — there are also serious
health risks associated with these
behaviors. Stimulants like Adderall
(as well as illicit ones like cocaine and
methamphetamine) can be deadly
to students with heart conditions,
and conditions that they might not
even know they have until it is too
late. Adderall, despite student beliefs,
is highly addictive and can cause
psychosis that can lead to suicide,
as in the tragic case of a Vanderbilt
University student in 2010.
Writing this column to my own
standards of evidence is proving
difficult because, well, we do not have
good data on substance use at the
University. Most of my evidence is,
admittedly, anecdotal. I have heard
from several sources that cocaine is
a frequent feature of Greek life and
co-op parties, as is the mixing of
prescription drugs Adderall and
Xanax with alcohol — a potentially
lethal combination.
Yes,
there
was
the
aforementioned
Adderall
survey
and several others focused on
marijuana and alcohol. However,
what about other substances like
opioids — you know, the drugs that
killed more Americans in one year
than the Vietnam War or the HIV/
AIDS epidemic during its peak?
A large, eight-year cohort study
out of the University of Maryland
found that prescription analgesics
— which includes opioids — are the
third most misused drug by college
students, following marijuana and
prescription
stimulants
(alcohol
and tobacco were not considered
in this study). According to that
study, 35 percent of college students
have used prescription stimulants
non-medically at least once. The
stereotype of an opioid user is
someone of the working class in
downtrodden areas in states like
Michigan and Ohio. However, it
only takes a prescription for Norco
or Oxycontin after a sports injury or
surgery for something to go wrong.
Anyone, including high-achieving
University students, is at risk for
opioid addiction.
Some university communities,
such as the University of Texas at
Austin, have acted on opioid use on
their campus. A student group at
the university has been educating
students and faculty there and at
two other Texas universities on how
to administer Narcan, the opioid
overdose reversal drug. To my
knowledge, nothing like this exists at
the University of Michigan.
While interning within the
realm
of
addiction
treatment,
I learned a lot about treatment
options for substance use disorder.
There
are
effective
therapies,
either psychological or medical, to
help people break an addiction to
psychoactive
substances.
While
the University does a good job of
educating students on the risk of
the three most abused substances
among our age group — tobacco,
alcohol and marijuana — not much
else is being done.
If you take a look at the “Alcohol
and Other Drugs” page of the
University Health Service website,
you can see their many educational
programs. This is all well and good,
however, educational programs only
help prevent people from getting
addicted in the first place. There are
many tools and programs for alcohol
listed on that page, such as the “Stay
in the Blue” app and the “Alcohol
e-CHECKUP TO GO.” None of these
programs help students break an
addiction to alcohol. Is the University
even offering treatment for alcohol
use disorder, such as cognitive
behavioral therapy and the anti-
cravings drug naltrexone to students
through CAPS and UHS? If so, they
need to do a better job of advertising
these services. I would like to see a new
UHS page or a new website made by
the University dedicated to presenting
comprehensive
information
on
substance use, including screening
and treatment options.
I
urge
the
University
administration to take a serious look
at substance use on campus. We need
a comprehensive survey looking at
all psychoactive substances to have
good data to act on. Furthermore,
we need dedicated divisions of UHS
and CAPS focused on addiction
treatment that offers evidence-
based counseling and medication-
assisted treatment for students. The
University community should look
to the University of Texas at Austin
as an example of how to proactively
address student substance use. We
cannot be reactive and wait until one
of our students dies from an overdose
because that would be a completely
avoidable tragedy.
Hair-raising controversy
DANA PIERANGELI | COLUMN
Love me in pieces
ALEX KUBIE | COLUMN
I
always pondered the idea
of love and what it looked
like: How would I know if I
truly felt it? Would I ever find it in
the first place? And, if so, what did
that love even look like? Yet, at 15
years old, the questions I had found
myself
mulling
over
almost
every night quickly took a turn
in a new direction.
Instead
of
the
innocuous
ruminating on the prospect of what
love would hold, I deliberated: Can
love be selective? Is it love when
we choose to only accept a part of
someone while disregarding the
whole? Or is love unconditional
— bound by no stipulation or
circumstance?
This
newfound
suspicion of love erupted from
something I had never second-
guessed before. It wasn’t from the
progression of a relationship or
even the fawning over a crush. In
fact, it wasn’t romantic at all. It
came from a form of love that is
inherent, marked upon us before
the day we are even born — or so
I thought.
In the face of my own
uncertainty — coupled with a
phone left open and my inability
to lie with any conviction — I had
“come out” to my parents. Erasing
the narrative they had written
for me, I had transformed from
their sensitive yet “normal” boy to
their vulnerable, gay son. While
it took some time for my parents
to adjust to this new “reality,”
they eventually came to one
simple conclusion: I was their
son. And that meant a love that
was unconditional.
However, this understanding
of what being family means was
not a universally-held belief. For
some, in fact, it didn’t mean this
at all. Aunts. Cousins. People I
had spent weekends and holidays
with. People that shared my blood.
They couldn’t — or didn’t want to
— accept me for all of who I was.
I heard varying explanations,
some stinging more than the
others. “A sickness.” “It was for
attention.” “An immoral choice.”
But, there was one phrase in
particular uttered by everyone that
had accompanied each of these
diagnoses — words that stung the
most. “But we still love him.”
So, there I found myself,
my face warm with frustration,
offsetting the cold chill that
lingered in the winter air, asking
myself a question I didn’t want to
know the answer to: Can someone
only love a part of you? “Maybe,”
I
told
myself
half-heartedly.
Love came in all different forms,
after all, and maybe this was just
another version of that seemingly
undefinable four-letter word.
That biting winter drew to
a close, and the coming spring
months began to thaw its lingering
chill. Each day, I began to warm
to the idea of this new aspect of
my identity and what embracing
it could entail. Eventually, that
waiting worked. More and more,
I became comfortable with who
I was. No longer did I view my
future as something devastated
— fractured by the reality of my
sexuality. Rather, I simply viewed
it with a new lens: a life filled
with possibilities different than
previously conceived, but still
possibilities nonetheless
Then, I met Eric. We went
out for ice cream. I treated him
to a meal at our local diner. He
surprised me with tickets to a
movie (one that I had already seen,
but I kept that part to myself). It
didn’t matter. We were dating, and
that was something I had imagined
could only come to fruition within
the private quarters of my mind.
Our relationship grew quickly
— faster than I had anticipated.
With each passing day, I opened
up about things tucked away so
deeply that I had almost forgotten
they still remained: the confusion,
the shame, the acceptance. Our
mangled skin shed with each
breath of understanding. With it
came a new shell built from shared
experience and new questions
that extended beyond the visceral:
“Who can we share this with?”
“When can we tell our friends?”
And
most
importantly:
“Can
we introduce each other to our
families?”
My mind began to race. “I
know there are holidays coming
up, and this way we could share
them together,” he remarked.
I
thought
about
what
my
relationship meant — how I could
show them the person who had
such a profound impact on my path
toward self-acceptance. I could
finally bridge the gap between
these two significant pieces of my
life. However, the grin marked on
my face began to sink as the reality
that I had dug away began to break
the surface.
“I would love to, but we can’t,”
I conceded. The gaping divide
between my two worlds began to
grow even further. The prospect
of bringing someone home to my
family had been discussed before
with great enthusiasm. It had been
met with an excitement that knew
no reservations. “How could we
not want to meet the person who
makes you happy?” I knew those
words, however, came with a
condition. Yet, the assurance that
I was loved began to reverberate in
my mind. Maybe, I thought, those
words still rung true.
A solemn discussion with my
parents quickly dispelled this
fleeting hope. They had affirmed
that I would always have a place
to go see my family, but that Eric,
regrettably, would probably not
receive the same warm welcome
from our relatives. I understood
their convictions — the way they
were raised, what they were taught.
But the affirmation of their love for
me could not escape my mind. I
experienced what love had brought
— the way it shaped my own father
and his own perspective. It was
that understanding that left a
part of me in despair. I grappled
with how my family could turn
away someone whose words of
clarity and acceptance had become
ingrained as a part of my being.
That
night,
the
air
felt
especially cold. With the lights
off, I nestled into bed as my mind
began to drift to questions I did not
want to face. The darkness of the
room was interrupted by a single
light. I glanced over to see my
phone displaying a new message.
“They still love you,” it read. It was
from my father.
Maybe he was right. Maybe
there was a love there. But that
love was for someone who did not
exist. I could not leave Eric — and
all that he had meant to me — at the
door. It went beyond the refusal to
acknowledge him. Eric was a part
of my life that I had grappled with
for so long. Those nights of hurting
had forged the understanding that
I had to accept every part of me
to reach the love in myself that I
needed to go on each day. To claim
a love in only one of these parts
was like ignoring a deep red stain
of wine on your favorite shirt. No
matter how many times you wash
it to a shade that is light enough
for you to ignore, it is still there.
While my family tried to focus on
anything but the stain that they
could not erase, I chose to simply
embrace the new colors.
A greater clarity set in my mind.
Finally, I let the question in that I
had tried so exhaustively to ignore.
Can someone only love a part
of you? In that now-illuminated
room, I had my answer.
Alex Kubie can be reached at
akubie@umich.edu.
The first and most
important step for
depolarization is
conversation.
Ali Safawi can be reached at
asafawi@umich.edu.
Dana Pierangeli can be reached at
dmpier@umich.edu.
Anyone, including
high-achieving
University
students, is at
risk for opioid
addiction.
MAECY LIGHTHALL | CONTACT MAECY AT MAECYL@UMICH.EDU