“

Bless this house, for we are 
all together. Bless us all, we 
may not meet again.”
If you and I are friends, there 
is no reason for you to read this 
column. Actually, if you’ve only 
met me in passing, you can move 
on, too. Basically, if you’ve ever 
spent more than five minutes with 
me you have heard more about 
the topic of this column than you 
had ever cared to hear, and I don’t 
want to put you through more 
than you can handle. That’s right 
folks, this column is all about the 
thing I never shut up about: camp.
For those of you who may be 
confused, I spent 10 summers at 
Camp Wise, a Jewish overnight 
camp in Chardon, Ohio. Yes, 
that’s 10 summers, or half the 
summers of my life spent at 
what can fairly be described as 
a cult, inspiring a level of rabid 
fanaticism about camp that can 
only be understood by those who 
were right there with me.
Camp 
isn’t 
for 
everyone, 
but if it is for you, it is the most 
wonderful experience of your 
life. Camp is singing and dancing 
for no reason and dressing in 
dumb costumes for the day just 
because you can. It’s making up 
interpretive dances to Disney 
songs, writing and performing 
recurring skits about deadly 
beans, and waking your friends 
up at midnight to force feed 
them Animal Crackers and dress 
them in adult diapers (an actual 
thing I did at camp, the context is 
unimportant).
I am a worrier by nature. 
I stress about school, life and 
relationships. I hate being with 
loud groups in public and I 
always follow the rules. But at 
camp, rules just aren’t the same 
as they are everywhere else. The 
weight on my shoulders, where 
all of those slightly neurotic 
concerns normally live, is lifted. 
Each summer since I was seven 
years old I was liberated from 
my self-imposed restraints, and 
I was a better version of myself 
on camp grounds than I could 
be anywhere else. I could be 
silly and adventurous and find 
the fun in every situation. It 
was just a month of my year, but 
every summer the campers, staff 
and place came together like a 
transient piece of theatre. One 

moment it was there, beautiful 
and outsized and poignant, and 
then it was gone, avoiding capture 
until the next summer solstice.
I always felt a sense of 
mourning when I had to leave 
camp and return to the real 
world, because I had to say 
goodbye to this person I loved 
being. I began this column with 
a lyric from the very last song we 
sing on the last night of camp. We 
gather in a circle with our cabin, 
looking at the faces of those 
we have come to love, and sing 
about how we may never see one 
another again. I would tear up in 
the dark, thinking of leaving and 
being so far away from my friends 
and, especially, my better self.

In this semester’s column, 
I am looking back to revisit 
the different people I have 
been throughout my life. I am 
separated from them by swaths 
of time, making them feel like 
historical 
figures. 
They 
are 
unreachable and unrecoverable, 
but there is a great deal to be 
learned from them. However, the 
person I am at camp is not frozen 
in time, 10 years back. She exists 
just three hours from here. She 
has a geographical home, not a 
chronological one, and for that 
reason it has been all the more 
difficult to say goodbye to her as 
I choose to spend my summers 
elsewhere. With every internship 
or study abroad application, I feel 
as though I am cutting ties with 
the best version of myself.
I do get glimpses of her, 
though, in my everyday life. 
She appears when I’m at a party 
and not having fun, and then 
“Everytime We Touch” comes 
on, and I break into the floor-
shaking crazy person dancing 
who is perfectly normal during 

Saturday dance parties at camp. 
She appears when a joke is so 
funny I forget how loud my 
laugh is, or when a friend is 
upset and instinct pulls me into 
energetic camp counselor mode 
to cheer them up, or when a 
little enthusiasm sneaks into the 
library and breaks up a boring 
night of studying.
The pang of grief I felt each 
year singing “Bless This House” 
on the last night of camp was 
always mitigated by the thought 
of coming back the next summer 
and picking up right where I left 
off, reclaiming my silly, carefree 
other self; now, though, I don’t 
know if I will ever go back. For 
10 summers I unwittingly sang 
along to Joni Mitchell’s “The 
Circle Game,” a camp favorite, 
at song sessions, and I so wish I 
had heeded her advice, “We’re 
captive on the carousel of time … 
take your time. It won’t be long 
now until you drag your feet to 
slow the circles down.”
Life moves on, despite our 
best efforts to delay it. I find 
myself asking how I can justify 
leaving behind this version of 
myself I love so much. I realized 
the answer to that question 
was divulged to me each year 
in that midnight cabin circle, 
tucked away in the lyrics of that 
melancholy tune: “Think of all 
the happiness we’ve found here, 
take it home and share it with a 
friend.”
We all have best versions 
of ourselves, though they may 
at times feel elusive or distant. 
But as long as I capture the 
happiness and freedom I found 
at camp, storing it carefully for 
safekeeping, I will always be 
capable of being my best self. 
When I smile wide and forget 
about the rules for a moment 
or two, I will know that my 
camp self is stepping out. So, 
unfortunately for my friends, I 
won’t stop talking about camp 
anytime soon, even as I spend 
more and more time away from 
Chardon, Ohio. In fact, there’s 
someone really wonderful I met 
there, and I’d like to introduce 
you.

Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Monday, October 8, 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

ERIK NESLER | COLUMN

Learning a thing or two from Patagonia
E

arly last week, nearly 
150 companies launched 
a 
collective 
campaign 
to 
increase 
voter 
turnout 
in 
the 
upcoming 
midterm 
elections. The effort, 
known as Time to 
Vote, is backed by 
some of the largest 
U.S. 
companies, 
including 
Walmart, 
Dick’s 
Sporting 
Goods and Levi’s.
According 
to 
a 
Pew Research Center 
study after the 2014 midterm 
elections, a plurality of eligible 
voters couldn’t find the time to 
vote, citing that work or school 
made it difficult. Because less 
than half of of the eligible 
population voted in the last 
midterm elections, companies 
decided to come together to give 
their employees (along with the 
general public) an opportunity to 
vote Nov. 6.
Levi’s, the company known 
for its quality jeans, is giving its 
corporate employees five hours 
and its retail employees three 
hours to vote on Election Day. 
Lyft chose to participate in the 
effort by giving its customers 
discounted 
rides 
to 
polling 
places. The ride-sharing app 
is also planning on providing 
free rides to people in the most 
underprivileged neighborhoods.
The company taking the 
boldest action to further improve 
voter turnout is Patagonia, which 
has committed to completely 
shutting down its corporate 
headquarters and all of its retail 
stores on Election Day.
Patagonia 
CEO 
Rose 
Marcario 
underscored 
the 
importance of getting people 
to vote, asserting “a vibrant 
democracy relies on engaged 
citizens voting” and “business 
can play a vital role by removing 
barriers.”
While the companies claim 
the effort is nonpartisan, their 
rationale 
is 
quite 
obvious 

given the decisive nature of 
this election season. Patagonia 
in particular has voiced its 
strong 
disapproval 
for 
the 
current 
administration.
When 
President 
Donald 
Trump 
abandoned 
the 
2015 Paris Climate 
Accord, 
Patagonia 
was one of hundreds 
of 
companies 
to 
condemn 
his 
decision. In addition, 
the company filed a 
lawsuit last year against Trump, 
Interior Secretary Ryan Zinke 
and other Trump administration 
officials. The company, along 
with several other parties, chose 
to fight the president’s decision 
to reduce the extent of two 
national monuments in Utah – 
Bears Ears and Grand Staircase-
Escalante – to less than half 
their original size.
Since its founding in 1973 by 
Yvon Chouinard, Patagonia has 
been unapologetically political. 
The company has devoted itself 
to positively impacting society—
particularly 
in 
regard 
to 
environmental stewardship. The 
company is well known for its 
corporate social responsibility 
efforts, which include its pledge 
to give 1 percent of its revenue 
to 
grassroots 
environmental 
organizations every year.
Beyond 
simply 
donating 
money, the company has proven 
to 
be 
radically 
transparent 
in regard to its production 
processes. On the company’s 
website, you can find “The 
Footprint 
Chronicles,” 
 
an 
interactive map that catalogues 
the 
complete 
environmental 
impact of its products. You 
can see the entire production 
process – from the farm to the 
mill to the factory. Patagonia 
continues 
its 
devotion 
to 
maintaining 
sustainable 
production processes with its 
selling of second-hand products 
on its website. The company 

also 
recycles 
products 
for 
customers when they’re no 
longer wearable.
With its commitment to 
corporate social responsibility 
and its astounding level of 
transparency, 
Patagonia 
has 
surely fulfilled its mission to 
“use business to inspire and 
implement 
solutions 
to 
the 
environmental crisis.” 
While Patagonia may appear 
to function like a nonprofit, 
which 
would 
prioritize 
environmental 
sustainability 
over profits, the company has 
achieved impressive financial 
results over the years. The 
company rakes in hundreds of 
millions of dollars in revenue 
per year – making Chouinard a 
billionaire. It’s clear Patagonia’s 
commitment to environmental 
preservation 
has 
attracted 
a substantial (and growing) 
consumer 
base 
that 
values 
companies with a conscience.
Patagonia 
isn’t 
the 
only 
company that can achieve such 
favorable results. Private sector 
entities have been (and should 
be) involving themselves in the 
public sphere. In a piece for The 
New York Times, David Gelles 
writes of a survey’s results 
comprising more than 1,000 
Americans’ thoughts regarding 
CEO involvement in the public 
sector. He states more than 33 
percent of survey respondents 
view it favorably and almost 50 
percent believe CEO activism 
can 
influence 
government 
policy.
The private sector can learn 
a lot from Patagonia and a slew 
of other companies that are 
working to change the world. 
Society could benefit immensely 
from 
the 
private 
sector 
committing itself to furthering 
socially beneficial goals – goals 
that go beyond just maximizing 
shareholder value.

Bless this house

Brett Kavanaugh and the year of the woman

KENDALL HECKER | COLUMN

Erik Nesler can be reached at 

egnesler@umich.edu

W

hat 
is 
appropriate 
etiquette when invited 
to a local home for 
dinner in a foreign country? This 
question was the source of much 
anxiety during my recent trip to 
Kenya, as part of the C.K. Prahalad 
Fellowship at the Ross School of 
Business. Although I had previously 
lived in Kenya before returning to 
business school, this was a question 
that I never fully grasped the 
answer to. Growing up in the United 
States, it was not typically expected 
that you should bring a gift when 
visiting a friend. If invited to dinner, 
you may be asked to bring a dish to 
pass or provide desert, though it is 
by no means expected. However, 
U.S. culture is unique in this regard 
compared to much of the world.
I knew that in Kenyan culture it is 
inappropriate to visit a friend’s home 
empty-handed. However, what is 
an appropriate gift? A piece of art? 
Dessert? A quilt? During previous 
visits to the homes of Kenyan 
friends, I never seemed to find the 
perfect gift. I had tried cookies, 
fruit, local handcrafts, you name it. I 
could always tell from reactions that 
I had missed the mark.
This time, I was determined to 
get it right. During one weekend of 
my fellowship experience, I planned 
to visit the home of my good friend 
Robinson and his family. I met 

Robinson in 2009 during my first 
trip to Kenya. We were working 
together in a community-based 
program to develop clean water 
solutions for the arid lands of Kenya. 
We became instant friends and have 
remained in contact ever since. I 
remember when his children were 
born, who are now two and six years 
old. At my wedding, he flew from 
Kenya to Oklahoma to stand up as 
one of my groomsmen.
When the opportunity arose to 
return to Kenya, I was excited for 
the opportunity to apply what I 
was learning at the Ross School of 
Business to a real-world problem. 
Through 
the 
C.K. 
Prahalad 
Fellowship, I was going to be visiting 
hospitals in Kenya and examining 
the cause of infant mortality. I was 
also exploring business solutions 
to this global problem, particularly 
through the lens of a low-cost 
ventilator that had been developed 
by an Ann Arbor startup. Outside 
of my work, I was looking forward 
to catching up with my good friend 
Robinson and family.
When the day came to visit 
Robinson’s home, I wanted to ensure 
I got it right. Kenyans are incredibly 
welcoming people and would never 
look down on a foreigner for not 
bringing a gift to dinner. However, 
it was important to me that I would 
not be seen as a foreigner, especially 

to my close friend. I spoke with 
other Kenyans, trying to decipher 
what would be an appropriate gift. 
I was told that food is a good gift to 
bring, but I had tried that before and 
failed.
After 
much 
deliberation, 
I 
decided to take a risk. Knowing that 
many Kenyans raise animals as a 
source of livelihood, I discovered 
the perfect gift. But what live 
animal could I bring? It would be 
difficult to find a sheep or goat 
in Nairobi and a chicken was too 
cheap of a present. I drove outside 
the town until I came to a small 
village where I had previously seen 
animals along the road. There I 
parked the car and described my 
predicament to the owner of a small 
vegetable stand. She immediately 
began describing a large bird she 
had seen for the first time earlier 
that day. After perusing photos on 
her cell phone, I realized she was 
referring to a turkey. I followed 
her directions into the village until 
I found it. Unfortunately, I only 
had 4,000 Kenyan Shillings in my 
pocket and that particular turkey 
was worth far more.

TIM CARTER | WOLVERINES ABROAD

Cultural etiquette, learning from a fowl

Tim Carter is a University of 

Michigan alumnus.

I

f the past few weeks 
have taught us anything, 
except how misogyny is 
still swiftly flowing 
through the veins of 
America, it is that 
2018 is not the year 
of the woman.
A 
year 
after 
Anita Hill testified 
before the all-male 
Senate 
Judiciary 
Committee alleging 
Clarence 
Thomas 
sexually 
assaulted 
her, 1992 was dubbed 
the “Year of the Woman.” More 
women than ever before ran for 
elected office, many of whom 
credited the injustice of the 
Thomas hearings as a primary 
motivating 
factor. 
Current 
Sens. Dianne Feinstein and 
Patty Murray, as well as former 
Sens. Carol Moseley Braun and 
Barbara Boxer, chose to run 
for the U.S. Senate specifically 
because they were appalled at 
the treatment of Hill by the all-
male committee panel. They 
wondered what could have 
been different had there been a 
woman, or two or three, on the 
committee questioning Hill 
and Thomas.
While the strides women 
made in 1992 are important 
for the history of increasingly 
equal representation in the 
U.S. government, the year of 
the woman did not ultimately 
succeed as it ended with the 
election of a man whose sexual 
improprieties were more than 
problematic.
Almost 30 years later, many 
pundits 
and 
commentators 
have haphazardly designated 
2018 another “Year of the 
Woman” after a record number 
of women have filed to run for 
elected office and, in many 
cases, won their primaries 
and are predicted to win in 
November.
Many bad men, including 
former CBS CEO Les Moonves, 
former 
Texas 
Rep. 
Blake 
Farenthold and former news 
anchor Charlie Rose, have been 

cast down from their towers 
of power following excellent 
reporting on how each used 
their societal power 
and male privilege 
to sexually harass 
and assault women. 
For the cherry on 
top, female physicist 
Donna 
Strickland 
just won the Nobel 
Prize in physics.
At the same time, 
Brett 
Kavanaugh 
was just confirmed 
to the highest court 
in the country despite being 
credibly accused of sexual 
assault 
and 
demonstrating 
what can almost certainly be 
considered the exact opposite 
of judicial temperance.

Kavanaugh and Mark Judge, 
a 
friend 
of 
Kavanaugh’s, 
allegedly shoved Christine 
Blasey Ford into a bedroom, 
played loud music to drown out 
her cries for help, repeatedly 
and 
violently 
groped 
her 
and 
drunkenly 
attempted 
to 
remove 
her 
clothing. 
Since Ford so courageously 
shared her story of the most 
traumatic night of her life, 
several other women have 
also accused Kavanaugh of 
sexual misconduct, including 
exposing himself, forcing a 
woman to touch him without 
consent and being present 
during a gang rape.
A 
year 
of 
the 
woman 
does not include a man like 
Kavanaugh being nominated 
to the Supreme Court. It 
does not even include the 

nomination of a man who 
has 
the 
ability 
to 
strip 
the reproductive rights of 
millions of American women, 
in 
addition 
to 
stripping 
other 
individual 
freedoms 
such 
as 
voting 
rights 
or 
queer women’s right to legal 
marriage. It also does not 
include a Republican-sided 
all-male 
Senate 
Judiciary 
Committee 
that 
forces 
a 
woman to testify about the 
most traumatic moment of her 
life over several days without 
allowing other witnesses to 
testify. It does not include 
hiring a female prosecutor 
to 
question 
and 
attempt 
to discredit the woman to 
avoid bad optics — all while 
throwing 
tantrums 
about 
how this man’s life is ruined 
because he might not get the 
job he wanted. 
In a year of the woman, 
there is most certainly not a 
president of the United States 
who brags about sexually 
assaulting women, has dozens 
of sexual assault allegations 
against 
him, 
mocks 
the 
brave woman standing up 
to Kavanaugh or bemoans 
how terrible the world is to 
men while saying women are 
doing great.
The 
next 
presidential 
election will take place in 
the year marking the 100th 
anniversary of the ratification 
of 
the 
19th 
Amendment, 
which constitutionally gave 
women the right to vote; 
however, it is important to 
note it only guaranteed white 
women suffrage and it took 
another 45 years before all 
women could vote. Though 
2020 will already be symbolic 
of this anniversary, it has the 
chance to finally fulfill the 
promise of being a year for 
women through the election 
of the first female President 
of the United States.

Marisa White can be reached at 

marisadw@umich.edu

MARISA WRIGHT | COLUMN

Kendall Hecker can be reached at 

kfhecker@umich.edu

Read more at MichiganDaily.com

Life moves on, 
despite our best 
efforts to delay it.

MARISA
WRIGHT

A year of the 
woman does not 
include a man like 
Kavanaugh being 
nominated

ERIK
NESLER

