T
he line “If voting could
change
anything
it
would be made illegal!”
is
often
misattributed
to
Mark Twain, and disputably
attributed to anarchist Emma
Goldman. The first confirmed
appearance, if it matters, was
from The Lowell Sun in 1974.
Regardless of who said it, the
phrase
carries
a
sentiment
shared by many Americans: Why
bother voting if it doesn’t seem
to affect anything?
Of course, one vote does have
some effect — collect enough of
them for one candidate or one
party and a number of things
change on the surface. In reality,
however, policy is implemented
differently, stalled or walked
back; judges are confirmed or
blocked; districts (in census
years) are drawn to increase or
diminish the power of certain
voting blocs. These things feel
less and less like the sort of
change Americans across the
political spectrum are seeking.
It seems Americans increasingly
identify with Julius Nyerere’s
quip: “The United States is also a
one-party state but, with typical
American extravagance, they
have two of them.”
I’d point out that in a lot of
ways, “they” are making voting
illegal — especially in Michigan.
Laws requiring addresses on
photo identification to match
voter
registration
addresses
specifically
target
college
students.
Laws
revoking
franchise from felons prevent
citizens — disproportionately
nonwhite — from reintegrating
with and participating in society
and the closure of polling stations
allow precise suppression of
specific demographics. Straight-
ticket voting — choosing a
party’s entire slate of candidates
with
a
single
notation
—
can
furthermore
increase
participation in down ballot
races; unsurprisingly, it’s only
legal in eight states.
On an individual level, voting
doesn’t actually matter — hence
all of the ink spilled over the
paradox of voting. It’s also
surprisingly controversial to say
nonvoting is a valid affirmative
choice as a statement of lack of
faith in the electoral process,
the party system and the people
who make it onto the ballot.
I do recognize, however, that
many nonvoters aren’t choosing
to protest, but rather are being
intentionally alienated from the
process.
The
view
that
voter
suppression — not voter apathy —
is an issue seems to be catching
on, surprisingly. There was a
significant amount of petulant
backlash in the aftermath of
Hillary Clinton’s 2016 loss, as
liberals vented frustration at
nonvoters, saying, “If only they’d
voted with us, we’d have won.”
In the intervening years, this
vague outrage has coalesced into
a project that might have some
genuine effect and target an
actual problem.
Corporations
are
signing
on to voter turnout projects:
everything
from
registration
to transport and time off. It’s
been hard to miss the online
promotions, too, especially on
Voter Registration Day (Sept.
25). It seemed as if every social
media site — Reddit, Twitter,
Discord, Tumblr — was running
a banner ad reminding their users
to vote or providing information
about how to register. This level
of interest from the business
world is hard to understate — for
whatever reason, corporations
from Patagonia to Uber agree
on the desirability of turning
people out for the November
2018 midterms and are willing to
spend money making it happen.
Many
appeals
to
student
voters especially rely on outrage:
voice your distaste for Donald
Trump, support marginalized
people and enjoy the twilight
years of democracy. I’ve been
slowly convinced, despite deeply
held assumptions to the contrary,
that these negative appeals work
— most people don’t actually
need a revolution, and they
don’t need a charismatic leader
to rally around. A (debated) rise
in negative polarization means
for many partisans, spite is
sufficient.
Voter registration drives and
mobilization efforts, therefore,
could just be a response to
this shift; instead of inspiring
people to vote against all odds,
concerned parties are guiding
frustration. Once nudged in the
right direction, social media and
news outlets provide momentum
—
a
party
or
politician’s
responsibility is then simply
to ensure fewer people hate
them than their opponent. The
interesting part is, whether out
of love or spite, we’re voting.
Innumerable column inches
have been wasted wringing our
hands over whether people are
going to vote for the “right” or
“wrong” reasons, missing the
fact that suddenly more of them
are voting, exactly as people
have been hoping for so many
years. It’s strange to yearn for
the masses to have their say
when they refuse to participate
and then suddenly recoil when
they step forward.
The GOP understands this
dynamic (as usual) much more
intuitively than Democrats do
— suppress the other party’s
voters, tailor registration laws
to your constituency and reap
the
electoral
reward.
The
Democratic mistake is looking at
this as if it’s somehow distasteful
— the Republicans are winning,
but they’re doing it “the wrong
way.” The GOP understands,
though, that whether they lose
out of incompetence or out of
principle the outcome is the
same, and they’d prefer to win.
Encouraging
electoral
participation is a worthwhile
project, even if the motives of
certain actors are questionable.
That said, increasing turnout
isn’t
a
long-term
strategy.
Harnessing frustration at Trump
works right now, but it won’t
work forever. Legislators with
sufficient motivation will move
to cement their institutional
advantages, and those pining
for a mythical era of civility and
pure intentions will continue to
endure losing elections.
F
or the most part, my two
best friends and I are just
like any ordinary group of
American girlfriends.
We frequent Chipotle,
binge episodes of “Curb
Your Enthusiasm” and
endlessly
trash-talk
people from our high
school. But aside from
providing me company
when I spontaneously
feel like going to Petco
to look at the hamsters,
Anjali and Nithya have
also
broadened
my
mind in ways atypical of most
friendships.
My two best friends and I are
all people of color. I am Chinese-
American, and Anj and Nith are
both Indian-American, but our
identities manifest themselves in
very different ways. I, like many
people of color, tend to tuck
my cultural identity away. For
most of my life, I have lived by
the philosophy that chopsticks
were only for family dinner and
Chinese was only to be spoken
at home. Whether it was out of
shame or fear of ostracization,
I did everything in my power
to appear as acclimated to
American society as possible.
Anj and Nith, on the other
hand, are shamelessly proud
Brown girls. They are outwardly
obsessed with Indian comedian
Hasan Minhaj and regularly
listen
to
Bollywood
Spotify
playlists in the car. It is because
of their unabashed pride that
I have a better understanding
of Indian culture than I ever
thought possible.
When I walk into Anjali’s
house, one of the first things I
lay eyes on is an elderly woman
dressed in a sari speaking
Gujarati.
This
is
Anjali’s
grandmother. Naturally, I was a
little jarred the first time I saw
her sitting on the living room
couch browsing on her iPad. It
wasn’t every day I witnessed
people
casually
wearing
traditional Indian garb, but I
very quickly realized for many
people, including Anj, it was.
This initial recognition of my
own biases was paramount to
my eventual recognition of the
beauty in foreign cultures. It is
easy to claim open-mindedness,
but
the
truth
is
everyone is subject
to
some
form
of
internalized
racism. We are all
accustomed to our
own ways of life, so
when we encounter
something unusual
we naturally react
in shock. But the
sooner
we
can
acknowledge
this
human tendency, the sooner we
can learn to appreciate cultures
and livelihoods unlike our own.
Anj and Nith have since
exposed me to countless facets
of Indian culture, perhaps most
notably the region’s extensive
and delicious cuisine. As a 1 a.m.
snack, we feast on Pop-Tarts
and cold pav bhaji. When we
want to eat out but don’t feel
like paying, we head to Nithya’s
family restaurant for roti and
lamb biryani and wash it down
with some rich mango lassi. I
don’t always like everything,
and, admittedly, sometimes my
spice tolerance proves to be
a limiting factor, but because
of my friends’ willingness to
share their culture with me, I
have discovered Indian cuisine
stretches miles past just naan
and curry.
Apart from the food, my
friends have also been a window
to various Indian traditions
and customs. For Navaratri,
a 10-day long Indian festival,
we attended a local gathering
where I learned the basics of
garba, a dance native to the
Gujarat state. The event was a
spectacle. We dressed in vibrant
southeast
Asian
attire
and
repeated intricate steps around
a
decorative
centerpiece.
Amid a crowd of Indians all
moving
in
synchronization,
my uncoordinated bare feet
and lack of rhythm stood out
like a sore thumb. Despite the
clumsiness,
my
experience
with garba was a fascinating
cultural
immersion
only
made possible by my friends’
eagerness to share their own
customs and traditions with an
outsider.
My friends’ pride in their
own
heritage
is
radiating.
Because of them, I find myself
excited to see an Indian playing
a
traditionally
white
role
on television. I find myself
frustrated at the sight of subtle
Indian cultural appropriation
and
microaggression.
But
beyond that, I also find myself
recognizing these same things
within my own culture.
Anjali and Nithya’s lively
backgrounds have reminded
me that my own background
is fascinating and worth my
attention. While it is easy to
simply acclimate to American
society, my experiences as a
Chinese girl have left me with a
unique and nuanced worldview.
To allow this identity to simply
fade away is to diminish the
valuable and oftentimes hard-
earned perspective that came
with it. I used to brush my
Chinese identity under the
carpet, and to some extent I still
do, but today I feel honored to
be a part of a culture with such
vibrant history and tradition.
Cultural exchange is a two-
sided
matter.
It
obviously
requires open-mindedness to
work, but it is also not possible
without
people
like
Anjali
and Nithya — people who take
personal pride in where they
come from and want others
to know about it. For many of
us, our cultural identities are
not salient when they really
should be. We acclimate so
staunchly to our surroundings
that we end up sacrificing
some of our most interesting
qualities in the process. This
trend is counterproductive. We
should take pride in where we
come from not only because
it makes our own lives more
interesting, but also because
the resulting cultural exchange
and
subsequent
acceptance
that makes us all better people.
Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Thursday, October 18, 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
HANK MINOR | COLUMN
If voting mattered they’d make it illegal
My friends are Brown and proud
AMANDA ZHANG | COLUMN
Hank Minor can be reached at
hminor@umich.edu.
Amanda Zhang can be reached at
amanzhan@umich.edu.
E
very
year,
the
University of Michigan
proudly welcomes in
close to 6,000 young
new students, full of
hope and excitement
about
this
new
chapter
of
their
lives. It is true that
college is a great
time for so many
young people, and
some
will
always
remember it as the
“best years of their
life,” yet college is
undoubtedly a hard time when
it comes to learning the big
lessons of life. For so many
of us, it is our first taste of
true independence. We must
learn to function on our own
as
adults.
The
University
tries to incorporate teaching
moments on the macro level
through first year seminars
on diversity and inclusion,
and on the micro level in the
classroom, as students get
their first real taste of having
to be accountable on their own
for class attendance and time
management.
However, there are still
some big areas of adult life
that take many freshmen much
longer to grasp. It is striking to
see how many students don’t
say “excuse me” when they
run past you on the street,
don’t hold the door for you
on the way into a coffee shop
and don’t clean up their mess
at restaurants or in the dining
halls, especially in the first few
months of a new school year. It
seems many students of this
generation, upon coming to
college for the first time, lack
an awareness of those around
them and therefore an ability
to be kind and empathetic.
I see this most prevalently
as a dining hall worker. For the
past three years, I have worked
at Mary Markley Residence
Hall’s dining hall, used mostly
by freshmen. It is shocking
how many students will simply
throw used napkins on the
ground, spill drinks on tables
and floors without cleaning
them up or ignore signs asking
them not to remove dishes from
the dining hall. Additionally,
many treat the dining hall
employees
with
a
“Regina
George” sort of mockery; as if
we are all Cinderella and they
are the step-sisters. They wait
impatiently for food, engage in
pointing and laughter as you
walk by carrying a
cleaning bucket and
rag and often leave
plates and cups on
the tables assuming
it is your job to clean
them up.
While
this
can
often seem blatantly
rude and sometimes
malicious,
what
I
have learned is most
of these freshmen
just simply aren’t aware of
how their actions affect, not
only the dining hall employees
,but the overall dining hall
environment. It seems they
truly
don’t
consider
the
students who will be coming
in after them to eat or the
employees — fellow students
— who will end up staying late
to clean up their unnecessary
messes.
It is important to note not
all students are like this. There
are many kind and courteous
students I meet every day, yet
the proportion of students
who are not is still too large. I
have thought a lot about what
contributing factors may have
led to this cluelessness and one
thing stands out to me: There
is no one here to clean up after
them anymore.
It’s true some of us did our
fair share of chores and cleaned
up after ourselves in high
school, but a harsh reality is
there are many very privileged
students on this campus who
may never have had to do such
things. While some of us had
jobs since we were 16, others
have yet to work. This leaves
them with a disconnect when
it comes to understanding the
frustrations of being a public
service worker.
While I know some people
who view the more privileged
on this campus with a sort of
contempt or bitterness, that
is not how I feel. Instead, I
feel some of us, due to life’s
circumstances, simply learn
some adult lessons earlier. As
a waitress in high school, I
learned to gather up my dishes
and mess into one spot on a
table to make it easier for the
busser cleaning it up. My dad is
50 years old but never worked
as a waiter. If it weren’t for
my mother and me, I doubt
he’d ever collect his dishes in
such a way. The truth is that
learning these lessons often
has very little to do with
age by itself, but more to do
with an openness to learning
and finding compassion for
people and places one doesn’t
understand as well. It is never
too late to start taking into
consideration how to be kind
toward those serving us.
One simple thing to keep
in mind is most of the people
serving you here in the dining
halls, restaurants and cafes
are other students! We are
students who have to work one
or maybe even two jobs to pay
for rent and groceries in order
to be able to afford attending
school here. If that is not the
reality for you, there is no need
to feel ashamed, but maybe
you do need to consider how
you could be more courteous
toward these other students.
Something as simple as picking
up a napkin and throwing it in
the correct trash bin can go a
long way. While you may not
think your one napkin makes
that much of a mess, if one
hundred other students think
the same thing this becomes a
10- to 15-minute extra closing
task for a dining hall worker
who still has to go home and
do homework like you.
The simple truth is, as a
freshman, it is very mature to
understand and be OK with
the knowledge that you have
a lot to learn about being a
courteous adult. You are going
to overlook some things in the
struggle to acclimate to your
new
environment,
but
the
more time you take to notice
the people around you each
day, the more you will find
yourself willing and able to
take the extra step of kindness
and courtesy toward a stranger
— whether it is holding the
door, cleaning up your mess
or simply saying “excuse me”
when you pass someone on
the sidewalk. These are all big
steps toward becoming a fully
functioning and aware adult
in today’s busy world because,
the truth is, you are not a child
anymore.
ABBIE BERRINGER | COLUMN
You are not a child anymore
ABBIE
BERRINGER
Abbie Berringer can be reached at
abbierbe@umich.edu.
Christine Jegarl/The Michigan Daily
AMANDA
ZHANG