T

he day I told my mom that 
I was gay, she cried. 
The day I told my mom 
that I was gay, she cried. 
She wept not because of who 
I was, but because of what I was 
losing.
“Life is hard enough as it is, 
and I want things to be as easy 
as they can be for you.” she said. 
“I just don’t want you to lose that 
innocence any earlier than you 
have to.”
I 
nodded 
half-heartedly, 
trying to fully understand what 
she had meant. After seeing my 
younger sister diagnosed with 
cancer at the age of four, my 
mother had already witnessed 
first-hand how fragile the world 
that she had spent years molding 
for us can be. Thus, she did all that 
she could to keep that delicate 
refuge intact.
But at the age of 15, my 
innocence was stolen. It was a 
gradual exhaustion— a creeping 
yet steady depletion that grew 
stronger as the foundation below 
me began to cave. Each day, as 
I began to piece together the 
origins of that pervasive “off” 
feeling, I would watch as the 
once-childlike landscape of the 
world I had rested upon for so 
long became soiled.
My mother was right. Coming 
to terms with my sexuality also 
meant I could no longer view 
life through the narrowed lens 
carefully crafted for me — for 
a greater awareness of myself 
meant a fuller understanding of 
the world around me. Most of 
these things were innocuous — 
things most people don’t even 
think of. I couldn’t experience the 
showy, juvenile thrill of holding 
someone’s hand as I exited 
the school doors (an essential 
validation for any true high school 
relationship). Rather, I sat in a 
classroom as my basic rights and 
privileges were assigned at the 
class “debate of the day.” I didn’t 
get to spend my time ruminating 
over how to craft the perfectly-
extravagant “promposal” (one 
that looked like it had come 
straight from the dashboard of a 
teenage girl’s Pinterest). Rather, 
I had to worry if my school 
principal would permit me to 
attend prom with my date at all.
As a 15-year-old, I had to 
juggle the responsibilities that 
most people my age dealt with. 

High school in general is a 
confusing time for everyone. Yet, 
as someone who was aware of 
my identity and the additional 
questions that came along with 
it, I found myself having to also 
navigate another world without 
any map on which to rely.
While 
the 
realization 
of 
this lone perspective became 
increasingly evident in the years 
I spent discovering my own 
identity, it took one unanticipated 
development 
that 
occurred 
hundreds of miles away from me 
to truly grasp this reality.
It was the last week of 
April, and the issue of same-
sex marriage had reached the 
Supreme Court for the second 
time in three years (the first being 
United States v. Windsor, which 
invalidated the federal ban on 
such relationships). I anxiously 
awaited as the audio of the oral 
argument was released. It was a 
school night, and I had an exam 
in my statistics class the following 
morning. While I should have 
been spending my night mulling 
over confidence intervals, or even 
defiantly ignoring my academic 
responsibilities in the name of 
senior year, I instead found myself 
fixated on the words, the questions, 
the silence of these nine seemingly 
God-like figures who held the fate 
of me and millions of others in 
their hands. Now 16 years old, I 
was no constitutional scholar. The 
front page of the New York Times 
the next morning was sure to offer 
a sufficient prediction of what the 
outcome would be. Yet I needed 
to hear every word of the case, the 
way in which each meticulously 
crafted question was delivered. I 
yearned for some sense of control 
of this potentially life-changing 
decision.
Every now and then, as I sat in 
the confines of my room the soft, 
yet stern, delivery of the counsel’s 
voice would be interrupted by 
a piercing ring from my phone. 
While I was listening attentively 
to the case presented, as if I were 
there in the chambers myself, 
text messages from friends and 
classmates would appear on my 
screen.
“Do you think we need to 
remember 
the 
Central 
Limit 
Theorem?”, “Coffee before school 
tomorrow?” or the absolutely 
original “I’m done studying! It’s 
not like colleges are gonna take 

back my acceptance anyway.” Each 
message served as a reminder of 
the vastly different realities we 
lived in.
Two months later, the degree 
to which these two distinct worlds 
had diverged fully settled. It was 
the day after my high school 
graduation. The weather was 
perfect, and my friends were 
headed to the beach to celebrate the 
commencement of our last summer 
before college. What should have 
been a morning of excitement 
over the accomplishment of one 
of life’s greatest milestones was 
instead filled with dread. While no 
concrete schedule was disclosed, 
the decision on the Supreme Court’s 
case on same-sex marriage seemed 
poised to be released that morning. 
Wrapped in my covers, unable to 
remove myself from the comfort 
and safety of my bed, I frantically 
opened Twitter, wincing as each 
new tweet appeared on my feed. To 
my surprise, rather than finding an 
influx of messages on the incoming 
momentous decision, I instead 
found myself navigating through 
tweets that were simply “normal.” 
As my stomach knotted in fear and 
anticipation, my timeline filled 
with “we finally did it #Sen15rs” 
posts and retweeted images of cats. 
But 
eventually, 
those 
two 
worlds froze. There, alone on my 
bed, my life had transformed at 
the hands of five people. Now, I 
could one day legally marry the 
person whom I loved. In my room, 
an air of change became palpable. 
However, once I stepped out, that 
poignant feeling began to melt 
away. Outside, life proceeded in 
a seemingly unchanged manner. 
Most people were not even aware 
that the decision took place. In that 
moment, the reality of my position 
truly hit me.
But this time, I didn’t allow 
myself to be a victim to my situation. 
While I may have had to worry 
about things most others did not, it 
was through being gay I first learned 
my strength. It has pushed me to 
find the best qualities in myself and 
others. Though I thought at 15 years 
old I had figured out my life’s hardest 
decision and knew all I needed to 
know about myself, here I am, five 
years later, still cautious of many 

Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Wednesday, September 26, 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 
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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

REED ROSENBACHER | COLUMN

Boycott Israel? Why not boycott China and Western Europe?
E

arly last week, Prof. Cheney-
Lippold of the American 
Culture department sent an 
email to student Abigail Ingber letting 
Ingber know that for political reasons he 
did not feel comfortable writing Ingber 
a letter of recommendation to study 
abroad in Israel. Cheney-Lippold cited 
an “academic boycott against Israel in 
support of Palestinians living in Palestine” 
as his reason for “rescinding” the letter.
 This decision has been nothing but 
controversial among students and the 
broader University community. Cheney-
Lippold’s decision opens up a wide 
variety of questions about Israel, ethical 
responsibility and anti-Semitism. At a 
fundamental level, the refusal to write 
the letter comes from an admirable place, 
as Cheney-Lippold acted upon his beliefs. 
For Cheney-Lippold, studying abroad 
and traveling to Israel upholds and reifies 
a system that oppresses Palestinians 
living in Palestine. The most common 
and intuitive reaction among supporters 
of Israel is to bring these beliefs about 
the unethicality of the state of Israel into 
question, but there is a larger and more 
important theoretical question at hand 
about the nature of American discourse 
on Israel.
For the sake of argumentation, let’s 
assume the views of Cheney-Lippold and 
other boycotters on the state of Israel are 
true. The official Boycott Divest Sanctions 
movement website says study abroad 
programs are a form of “propaganda 
… 
designed 
to 
give 
international 
students a ‘positive experience’ of Israel, 
whitewashing its occupation and denial 
of Palestinian rights.” The BDS website 
also clearly outlines United Nations 
definitions of human rights violations 
ast the main standards for academically 
boycotting Israel. I would be shocked if 
any study abroad program was not 
designed to give students a “positive 
experience” of the country. Let’s also 
assume these are not just acceptable 
standards for denying to write a letter 
of recommendation but actually ethical 
guidelines. 
From this, should a professor in 
France deny a student’s request to study 
at the University of Michigan because 
the U.N. deemed Detroit water shutoffs 

to be a human rights violation? Should 
the French professor deny the request to 
study here because the professor believes 
the United States is founded upon a 
history of slavery and genocide? Isn’t 
one’s intuition to point out there are many 
people in the U.S. who have committed 
their lives to fighting against the many 
problems in our country? To say any visit 
to America necessarily supports these 
violent histories is not only reductive of 
American history but silences people in 
the U.S. who are working against these 
forces of domination.
Maybe you aren’t sold on the 
example of the French professor 
and the student who wants to 
study at the University. Currently 
in China, nearly a million people 
of the Uighur ethnic minority are 
being unlawfully detained and 
sent to “brainwashing” internment 
camps. The Chinese government 
refuses to give explanations for 
these actions and often denies 
the accounts of Uighurs who 
have escaped or been released 
from 
the 
internment 
camps. 
China is running an intentional 
campaign to arrest and eradicate 
an ethnic minority yet no one in 
the United States is talking about 
it or protesting against it. The 
Chinese government has also 
been criticized for its rampant 
use of censorship and general 
free speech suppression. Would 
Cheney-Lippold deny a student’s 
request to study in China? I doubt 
it. Furthermore, I would be hard-
pressed to learn of a country that 
does not have a history soaked in 
blood. England, Germany, France 
and Spain, the most common 
destinations for study abroad 
have 
histories 
of 
colonialism 
and/or genocide that have deep 
lasting negative effects on the 
world today. Why don’t we hear 
professors reject other nations 
on the basis of ethical premises? 
What is the theoretical threshold 
that makes a country so unethical 
that a professor shouldn’t support 
a student studying there?
I would imagine a supporter 

of the boycott would respond 
to this point by highlighting 
Israel-Palestine is an undeniably 
more vibrant issue in American 
political discourse than human 
rights violations in China or even 
the ongoing violence caused by 
western Europe’s colonial history. 
In a non-academic context, I think 
this 
argument 
is 
compelling: 
There are a limited number of 
political issues worldwide of which 
someone can keep track and at 
some level political prioritization 
is arbitrary and/or dictated by 
media. However, I don’t think 
Cheney-Lippold, an academic in 
the humanities, should be able to 
access this argument. Academics 
and 
humanitarians 
are 
the 
people who should be thinking 
through 
political 
orientations 
on 
larger, 
more 
theoretically 
consistent levels. If there is anyone 
who should theorize about the 
ethicality of political orientations 
and the ways that media narratives 
shape our understanding of those 
issues, it is academics like Cheney-
Lippold.
My contempt for Cheney-
Lippold’s decision does not stem 
from Cheney-Lippold’s political 
views on Israel or the fact that 
he was willing to act. In fact, I 
respect Cheney-Lippold for boldly 
standing up for what he believes. 
What frustrates me is Cheney-
Lippold did not place his decision 
within a larger framework for 
understanding which countries 
have acceptable enough politics 
and which ones do not. For 
Cheney-Lippold 
and 
fellow 
boycotters, I request a thorough 
explanation 
of 
what 
makes 
a 
country 
worthy 
of 
academic 
boycotting and which countries 
do or do not meet those standards, 
because without an explanation, I 
can’t help but wonder if there is a 
double standard for Israel.

Losing my innocence, finding myself

ALEX KUBIE | COLUMN

 Reed Rosenbacher can be reached 

at rrosen@umich.edu.

DANA PIERANGELI | COLUMN
Sick of victim shaming? Yeah, #MeToo
I

t’s 
been 
almost 
a 
year since the fateful 
Harvey Weinstein story 
broke, 
upending 
Hollywood 
and most of the world. It 
seems like every day people 
are coming forward with their 
own tales of sexual harassment. 
Obviously not every predator 
has been dealt with, not every 
assault has been exposed and 
not every victim has come 
forth, but we are beginning 
to 
recognize 
this 
problem 
and deal with it accordingly. 
With every #MeToo, we seem 
to rid ourselves of another 
sexual predator infesting our 
movies, offices and even our 
government. This cleansing of 
the legislative branch, as well as 
many other areas of our society, 
is an encouraging prospect. 
After this era of silence, we now 
can rid society of this plague 
once and for all. Right?
Wrong. 
Just 
when 
we 
thought 
we 
wouldn’t 
have 
to put up with this anymore, 
prospective 
Supreme 
Court 
Justice Brett Kavanaugh done 
gets 
#MeToo’d. 
Christine 
Blasey 
Ford, 
a 
Northern 
California a psychologist and 
professor of statistics at Palo 
Alto University, recently came 
forward claiming Kavanaugh 
attempted to rape her at a party 
in high school. Kavanaugh 
claims it never happened and 
that he doesn’t even remember 
the incident detailed, but Ford 
remains strong in her story. 
She and the Democrats want 
an FBI investigation to provide 
credibility to her story, but 
Republicans are resisting. 
Another allegation released 
in a recent article from The 
New Yorker reveals Deborah 
Ramirez, a Yale classmate of 
Kavanaugh’s, has recently come 
forth with a sexual harassment 
claim 
from 
an 
experience 
she had while at college. This 
claim is extremely new and 
investigations still must be 
made, but many have backed 
up her story and Ramirez 
is also asking for a full FBI 
investigation. She decided to go 
public only because she didn’t 
want others to do it for her.
“I didn’t want any of this,” 
Ramirez said to The New 
Yorker. “But now I have to 
speak.” She hoped her story 
would add credibility to Ford’s 
claims as well.
In 
the 
race 
to 
get 
a 
conservative Supreme Court 
justice sworn in before the 
possible turnover during the 
midterm elections, Kavanaugh 
is a key player in the Republican 
agenda, 
to 
which 
these 
allegations pose a monumental 
threat. Some are even implying 
this is all just a political ploy 
created by Democrats to get rid 
of a possible conservative judge.
The main question these 
Republicans 
are 
asking 
is 

why now? Why did Ford, the 
first 
allegation, 
wait 
until 
Kavanaugh was about to be 
confirmed into the Supreme 
Court to come forward with 
her allegations (though there 
is proof that she told Rep. 
Anna Eshoo, D-Calif., and Sen. 
Dianne 
Feinstein, 
D-Calif., 
about the issue in July). Even 
President 
Donald 
Trump 
tweeted “I have no doubt that, 
if the attack on Dr. Ford was as 
bad as she says, charges would 
have been immediately filed 
with local Law Enforcement 
Authorities by either her or her 
loving parents. I ask that she 
bring those filings forward so 
that we can learn date, time, 
and place!”
Here’s the thing: There’s 
so much complexity in when 

and why victims come forward. 
After the beginning of the 
#MeToo movement and women 
from all different careers and 
income levels were exposing 
their abusers, it seemed like the 
taboos that came with this issue 
were beginning to dissolve. 
But there are still so many 
reasons women do not step 
forward about sexual assault, 
or why they do it long after the 
assault. In response to Trump’s 
tweet, 
many 
are 
tweeting 
#WhyIDidntReport, detailing 
their own experiences with 
sexual assault and why they 
were not able to come forward 
at the time, writing they were 
too young to be taken seriously, 
it was a friend or husband, it 
was a police officer or no one 
would believe them. This isn’t 
just an issue with Ford — it’s an 
issue for thousands of women 
all over the world.
While 
talking 
to 
The 
Washington 
Post, 
Ford 
personally grappled with what 
coming forward publicly would 
mean for her and her family, a 
common issue for many victims, 
especially if their predator is 
someone powerful or well-
known. Eventually, through a 
series of events that led to her 
name being exposed against 
her will, Ford decided it was 
her duty as a citizen to reveal 
this disturbing story about a 
possible Supreme Court justice. 
Ramirez 
detailed 
similar 
feelings in her interviews.
According to the Maryland 
Coalition 
Against 
Sexual 

Assault, victims often don’t 
report sexual assault incidences 
for a number of reasons: they 
are afraid of repercussions 
from the predator, think the 
police won’t do anything, don’t 
want their family and friends 
to find out, are afraid to be 
attacked as liars, among many 
other reasons. Sexual assault is 
a complicated issue, so coming 
forward about it is naturally 
just as, if not more, complicated.
For those who do decide 
to come forward, the fear 
and doubt don’t end there. 
Often times these victims are 
shamed and their experiences 
are minimalized by outsiders. 
Especially if the perpetrator 
is a popular, well-liked figure, 
they are even more likely to 
receive hate and discrimination 
because of their experiences.
Like many victims, Ford 
suffered 
extreme 
trauma 
because of this event. She has 
experienced long-term anxiety 
and 
post-traumatic 
stress 
disorder symptoms from this 
event, as many other survivors 
face; that is, coming forward 
can be practically impossible 
because of all the painful 
memories it drags up. According 
to The Washington Post, Ford 
has been unable to form healthy 
relationships with men, and 
her friend, Jim Gensheimer, 
revealed she resisted buying a 
house without a second exit in 
the master bedroom. However, 
despite her struggles, she has 
given other women courage 
to stand up against predators 
and finally come forth about 
their experiences, as it did with 
Ramirez.
Ford wasn’t lucky enough to 
have her complete say in how and 
when her story was revealed. 
Though she eventually decided 
coming forward was crucial 
in preserving the integrity of 
our government, her life and 
the lives of her family will 
forever be changed because of 
these events. How, when and 
if she and any other victims 
of sexual assault reveal their 
stories should always be their 
choice. 
Throughout 
these 
trials, we see much debate 
about 
whether 
Ford 
and 
Ramirez’s claims are real and 
why they are emerging now; 
yet, rarely are these women 
being granted the respect they 
deserve for putting themselves 
on the line to stand up against 
corruption in the government. 
We have gained incredible 
ground over the past year 
in 
listening 
to 
women’s 
stories and respecting their 
experiences 
— 
Ford 
and 
Ramirez should be treated 
no differently. Victims are 
not always able to come forth 
about their abuses. But when 

Dana Pierangeli can be reached at 

dmpier@umich.edu.

Alex Kubie can be reached at 

akubie@umich.edu.

 How, when and if 
 
victims of sexual 
assault reveal 
their stories 
should always be 
their choice

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