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

