A 

couple of months ago, I 
called my dad to complain. 
I don’t even 
remember 
what 
I 
was 
calling 
to 
complain 
about. 
Before jumping into 
my tirade, I asked 
him how his day was 
going. He said, with 
a big sigh, something 
along the lines of, 
“Well I showed up 
to the scene of an 
accident today where 
the victim was dead on arrival.” 
He wasn’t wearing his helmet on 
his motorcycle and according to 
my dad, “His brains were all over 
the street.” After telling me this, 
he tried to seamlessly transition 
into asking about my day. Suffice 
to say, I no longer had the heart to 
complain.
My 
dad 
is 
a 
federal 
law 
enforcement officer for the USDA 
Forest Service, former emergency 
medical technician, former SWAT 
team sniper and an army veteran. 
After we hung up the phone, I 
thought about what it would be 
like to show up to a scene like that 
even once in my life, nonetheless 
potentially multiple times as part 
of my job. I couldn’t imagine seeing 
somebody’s brains on the street, but 
I knew it wasn’t the first time my 
dad had. In the course of his career 
as a first responder and LEO, he 
has saved people from falling over 
waterfalls, hiked countless miles 
to find missing persons, dealt with 
domestic violence disputes and drug 
seizures, served warrants to violent 
felons and has put his life on the line 
for the sake of justice many times.
For most of my life, when my dad 
suited up and left the house in the 
morning, my family began to hold 
its breath, and nobody breathed a 
sigh of relief until he came home 
again at night. We rarely talked 
about it, but all felt it. When I was 
in middle school, we lived in Scioto 
County, Ohio, which was making 
a name for itself as a county at the 
center of the nation’s increasing 
opioid epidemic. We had the highest 
rates of prescription drug overdoses 
in the state and were fighting drug-
related crime in almost every level 
of society, from upscale doctors 

running pill mills all the way to 
the young addicts robbing houses 
and 
stores 
for 
drug 
money. The more my dad 
enforced the rules and 
cracked down on illegal 
activity, the more hostile 
our environment became. 
People would drive up 
our driveway to confront 
my dad and even threaten 
him. They would drive by 
our house and fire shots 
in the air or into our barn. 
I remember lying in bed 
many nights far past my bedtime 
waiting to hear the sound of his car 
coming up the driveway so I would 
know he had made it home one more 
night.
All of this tension took a toll on 
our whole family. When my dad 
was off work, he was often irritable 
and unsettled. We weren’t allowed 
to wear jerseys to sporting events 
that had our last names on the 
back because it could potentially 
put us in danger. We were never 
to tell anyone who our father was, 
and if anybody asked about him 
we were immediately to call one of 
our parents. We weren’t allowed 
to answer the door or the phone at 
home and we went over multiple 
times where to hide in our house if 
someone were to break in.
The violence and threats against 
our family seemed to be escalating 
for some time and it finally reached 
its boiling point in my eighth-grade 
year. Someone had apparently 
waited on the hill above my dad’s 
parking spot at home to “put some 
lead in him.” They failed to follow 
through on this threat due to 
nothing short of a miracle. That 
very night as he arrived home, my 
dad realized he left something he 
needed for the morning at his office 
40 minutes away. He turned around 
just a few minutes from home and 
because of this he didn’t make it 
home before dark. The next day a 
friend of the man who wished to 
commit the crime came in and told 
my dad of his friend’s plan saying 
the guilt had overwhelmed him 
and that my dad needed to watch 
his back from now on. Not very 
long after this incident, in one final 
attempt to commit violence against 
our family, this same man came onto 

our property and shot and killed our 
family dog, Pepper, just 10 feet from 
our front door.
After this, an investigation was 
finally launched and my dad was 
offered a “safety and security 
transfer” to another region. We 
moved to beautiful Ludington, 
Michigan at the beginning of my 
freshman year of high school 
in hopes of leaving the violence 
and hate behind us. We found 
the people in Ludington and 
the surrounding areas to be 
much more respectful of law 
enforcement in general, but just as 
the tides of fortune were turning 
in our direction, the politics 
surrounding the law enforcement 
community began to heat up. The 
cases of Eric Garner and Michael 
Brown put the law enforcement 
community under intense scrutiny 
as the narratives of police brutality 
and racial discrimination began to 
rise to the surface of the political 
media spotlight.
The 
conversation 
around 
police brutality was obviously an 
important one to have considering 
the grievances so much of our 
nation was voicing. Yet, in the 
wake of the threats and violence 
my family had just faced, hearing 
so much vitriol aimed at the police 
community as a whole was often 
very hard for us all. When friends 
and acquaintances began to tweet 
about police being “pigs” and 
protests against police became 
more violent — with some fringe 
groups of protests even touting 
phrases such as “What do we want? 
Dead cops! When do we want 
it? Now!” — it became apparent 
that the police community was 
undergoing a form of stereotyping 
that, as a police officer’s daughter, 
struck me as very counterintuitive 
in the movement for peace and 
justice. Instead of voicing general 
frustrations at the system, my 
father and other officers we knew 
began to face personal attacks that 
increased the tension of their work 
environments.

“I

t’s a dangerous time to 
be a journalist.” NPR’s 
“Up First” podcast 
ended the discussion of Saudi 
journalist Jamal Khashoggi’s 
alleged 
murder 
with 
this 
remark. All around the world, 
journalists have been dealing 
with physical attacks, as well 
as attacks on their journalistic 
integrity. According to the U.S. 
Press Freedom Tracker, 41 
journalists have faced physical 
attacks in 2018, and five have 
been killed. With Khashoggi’s 
murder headlining the news, 
and President Donald Trump’s 
steady stream of insults aimed 
at the free press while on his 
midterm tours, this attack on 
journalistic integrity and the 
free press is gaining ground and 
making life more dangerous for 
journalists and civilians alike.
Since Trump took office in 2016, 
the idea of “fake news” has become 
a prevalent topic in politics. While 
the term fake news is not one of 
Trump’s own invention, nor is he 
even the first politician to use it in 
such a way as to attack the press, 
it has taken on almost a second 
definition. According to a study by 
researchers Rasmus Kleis Nielsen 
and Lucas Graves, most scholars 
and professionals agree that fake 
news should be, “Associated with 
misinformation 
from 
different 
sources, 
including 
journalists. 
Seen as distinguishable from news 
primarily by degree,” usually in 
relation to perceptions of satire, poor 
journalism, propaganda, advertising 
and false news. However, it is now 
being “weaponized by critics of the 
news media as well as by critics of 
platform companies” to invalidate 
certain news sources, the current 
instigator being Trump.
Time and time again, Trump 
makes remarks about the press 
falsely attacking him, naming them 
a danger to society. Feeling attacked 
due to being under the constant 
microscope of the press, Trump 
chose to return fire to one of the 
most important aspects of a free 
democracy. He has decided that 
he doesn’t like journalists telling 
the public the facts about what his 
administration is doing and that he 
will do his best to invalidate these 

facts by preaching to his followers 
that it is all fake.
“The 
media 
also 
has 
a 
responsibility to set a civil tone and 
to stop the endless hostility and 
constant negative and oftentimes 
false attacks and stories,” Trump 
said at a rally in Wisconsin while 
he was on the midterm tour. What 
Trump is failing to grasp is that the 
press has absolutely no obligation 
to the government. They have an 
obligation to report the truth, no 
matter how it may portray the 
president, 
government 
officials 
or any other figure. Just because 
Trump doesn’t like what the media 
is saying about him doesn’t make it 
false, and it certainly doesn’t mean 
he should be encouraging hateful 
acts toward journalists who are just 
doing their job.
The press is one of the 
most important checks on the 
government. Its role in society is 
to report the truth, and with that, 
hold the government accountable. 
Instead of understanding the 
importance of free press and 
taking their criticisms as an 
opportunity 
to 
improve 
his 
presidency, Trump has instead 
attempted 
to 
undermine 
the 
importance of a driving force of 
American democracy, which poses 
a danger to society. Labeling the 
press as “the enemy of the people” 
is a fear-mongering tactic used 
by an unpopular president who 
wants to hide any unflattering 
portrayals of his presidency and 
personality from the public. And 
yet, it’s kind of working.
According to a survey published 
by CBS, 91 percent of strong Trump 
supporters consider the information 
he delivers to be accurate, but 
only 11 percent trust the media. 
So when Trump spews hate about 
The New York Times and other 
mainstream, historically reliable 
media, unfortunately, people listen. 
This is certainly evident in the 
abusive treatment of journalists 
that has been spreading all over 
the world. Khashoggi is only one 
example of how dangerous it is to be 
a journalist in this current climate. 
Leaders everywhere and in all 
types of government, from Syria to 
Venezuela and from authoritarian to 
populist, are following Trump’s lead 

and attacking the free press. When 
other leaders see the president of 
the land of the free attack one of the 
fundamental aspects of its freedom, 
it seems to give them permission to 
do the same.
Even other U.S. government 
officials are jumping on the anti-
press bandwagon. Trump actually 
praised U.S. Rep. Greg Gianforte, 
R-Mont., 
for 
bodyslamming 
a 
reporter. I’m no lawyer, but I’m 
pretty sure that would be considered 
civil abuse, which is illegal. While 
this is terrible, considering our 
President’s track record, it’s not 
surprising. What is more terrifying 
is the audience’s response. After his 
statement, they cheered and began 
jeering at other reporters in the 
audience, one man even re-enacting 
a body slam and making threatening 
hand gestures. Some of us try to 
give ourselves peace of mind by 
convincing ourselves that Trump 
is only one heretic and that most 
rational people don’t actually believe 
the absurdities he constantly spouts. 
This attack and response, however, 
reveals the terrifying truth that 
Trump is not alone in his hatred, and 
that we are all in grave danger.
Journalism is absolutely essential 
to a free country and an accountable 
government. We are incredibly lucky 
to live in a country where the freedom 
of the press is a constitutional right 
no matter who is in power or what 
they say about it. But a president who 
constantly threatens and degrades 
the media is not only misguided but 
also dangerous. Unfortunately, we 
live in a world where it is dangerous 
to be a journalist. But that is why 
it’s important. Journalists have the 
power to generate change and have 
been using this power since the 
founding of this country. From high 
school newspapers to The New York 
Times, every level of journalism 
plays a role in making change, 
whether it be at a high school or in 
the White House. We cannot allow 
one asinine blip on this country’s 
timeline destroy a fundamental part 
of our democracy. We cannot be 
considered the land of the free if we 
are not free to speak our minds.

Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
6A — Wednesday, November 7, 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

ABBIE BERRINGER | COLUMN

A police officer’s daughter

It’s a dangerous time to be a journalist

DANA PIERANGELI | COLUMN

Abbie Berringer can be reached at 

abbierbe@umich.edu

Dana Pierangeli can be reached at 

dmpier@umich.edu

I 

spent this past Saturday 
morning holding back tears. 
For 
my 
Judaic 
Studies 
class, I went to a conservative 
Shabbat service at a conservative 
synagogue in Ann Arbor. When 
I first saw the assignment on my 
syllabus back in September, I 
didn’t think much of it. I thought 
the conservative service would 
be akin to the services at the 
Reform synagogue I grew up 
going to, but longer and more 
formal. The only difference was 
that it just so happened that the 
Shabbat service was a week after 
the Pittsburgh shooting.
Jews and non-Jews of all 
ages filled the room in a show of 
support. There was a mourners’ 
Kaddish — a prayer for lost loved 
ones — dedicated to the victims. 
After, three rabbis gave eloquent 
sermons about what happened in 
Pittsburgh. And, though it was 
overall a solemn and, at times, 
melancholic two hours in the 
synagogue, I left feeling much 
better, mostly because of the 
head rabbi’s exceptional sermon. 
 
The head rabbi’s sermon was 
delivered at the very end of the 
service. First, he argued that his 
interpretation of Jewish values 
supports tolerance and inclusion 
and that Jews should support 
globalization, 
immigration, 
refugees and diversity because 
of the moral teachings in the 
Torah. He told the congregation 
that Abraham, who was thought 
of as the first patriarch of the 
Jewish people, was a refugee. 
Abraham sought refuge in both 
the promised land of Canaan and 
later in Egypt. His wife Sarah, 
the first matriarch of the Jewish 
people, should be revered for 
her strength because she was 
welcoming of Abraham, even 
though he was born in a different 
land and had different customs. 
 
He concluded that ultimately, 
tolerance and love will defeat 
intolerance and hate.
Continuing with the theme of 
tolerance and diversity, the head 
rabbi argued that adherence 
to the moral and religious 
precepts of Judaism trumps 
having Jewish ancestry as a 
determinant of Jewish identity. 
The rabbi was arguing for a 
more universalist conception of 
Jewish identity, rather than a 
particularist conception where 
shared 
ancestry 
through 
a 
Jewish mother defined Jewish 
identity. The more universalist 
conception of Jewish identity the 
rabbi argued for was primarily 
about 
adherence 
to 
Jewish 
moral and religious values. The 
rabbi 
told 
the 
congregation 
that like America itself, Jewish 
communities 
all 
across 
the 
country were becoming more 
diverse. He contested the view 

retained in parts of the Jewish 
and 
rabbinical 
community 
that 
lament 
intermarriage 
and the loss of a particular 
Jewish ethnic peoplehood. He 
predicted proudly that in 40 
years, the congregation of the 
synagogue we were all sitting in 
would be much more ethnically 
and racially diverse, as would 
America. As a half-Filipino Jew, 
I found this comforting.

I realized during the walk back 
to my apartment that the rabbi’s 
argument about Jewish identity, 
of values versus genealogy, is 
also applicable to American 
identity. In this country, we are 
facing a fundamental choice of 
what it means to be an American. 
Like Judaism, American identity 
has had a tension between 
universalism and particularism. 
The 
U.S. 
Declaration 
of 
Independence 
and 
the 
Constitution speak of ostensibly 
universal values, in the form of 
“unalienable” rights, liberties 
and equality. These values are 
central to the American identity 
and what it means to be part of 
“We the people.” But, for much 
of American history, the ability 
to benefit from these values have 
been particular to white men, 
rather than universal. Racism 
and sexism, in the form of 
slavery, segregation and barriers 
to citizenship and other rights 
is omnipresent in our history. 
Some would argue this history 
of particularism is still similarly 
impinging today as it was in the 
past, while others, like myself, 
would argue vast progress has 
been made. But there is still work 
that needs to be done.
As 
Americans, 
we 
have 
a choice. Will we live up to 
the promise of America that 
Martin Luther King Jr. spoke 
of, 
where 
American 
values 
and thus identity are truly 
universal, or will we continue 
the disappointments of the past? 
Fulfilling America’s promise is 
not only a legal matter. Equal 
application of laws and rights 
are an integral part of achieving 
equality. But, fulfilling America’s 
promise is also an extralegal, 
social matter. All Americans 
should be able to reasonably 
feel that they are equal rights-

bearing individuals, free and 
able to pursue their happiness, 
without being limited by race, 
gender, 
sexuality, 
religion, 
among other things.
Yet, 
President 
Trump’s 
Republican 
party 
peddles 
toxic 
rhetoric 
that 
exploits 
prejudicial sentiment embedded 
in our national discourse. This 
type of hateful speech enabled 
the Pittsburgh shooting, the 
Kentucky shooting, the mail 
bombs and the rise in anti-
Semitic hate crimes. Every week 
it’s something new, adding to 
the already extensive annals of 
Trump’s racism.
This 
week, 
the 
Trump 
administration 
is 
fomenting 
paranoia 
about 
a 
migrant 
caravan seeking asylum. Instead 
of portraying the caravan as 
they are — desperate asylum 
seekers who could be accepted 
or turned away at the border — 
the Trump administration has 
turned them into an invasion 
of “gang members.” President 
Trump has said, falsely, that 
there are Middle Easterners in 
the caravan. It wasn’t enough to 
demonize asylum seekers using 
prejudicial tropes about Latin 
Americans, but Trump also had 
to use the stereotype of Middle 
Easterners as terrorists as well. 
A commercial his campaign 
launched about the caravan 
and illegal immigration more 
broadly has been pulled from 
NBC, Facebook and Fox News 
because it was deemed racist. On 
the one hand, the use of racial or 
ethnic stereotypes to demonize 
a group of people by our 
president is an overt example 
of the continuity of racism 
and the failure of American 
values to be truly universal 
— and it presents a very clear 
choice. Trump’s administration 
is moving us away from the 
promise of America Martin 
Luther King Jr. spoke of. Like 
the rabbi I wrote about earlier, 
we can embrace diversity and 
affirm the strength of the values 
that define American identity. 
Or we can do the opposite. We 
can build walls, use divisive 
language and demonize people 
who 
are 
seen 
as 
different 
both inside and outside of our 
country. But as we’ve recently 
seen, doing so comes at a cost. 
So though this will be published 
after the midterms, I hope you 
have voted wisely. The future of 
our country and its communities 
depend on it.

AARON BAKER | COLUMN

After Pittsburgh, lessons from a Rabbi

Aaron Baker can be reached at 

aaronbak@umich.edu

We can embrace 
diversity and the 
values that define 
American identity

ABBIE 
BERRINGER

Read more at MichiganDaily.com

CONTRIBUTE TO THE CONVERSATION

Readers are encouraged to submit letters to the editor and op-eds. 
Letters should be fewer than 300 words while op-eds should be 550 
to 850 words. Send the writer’s full name and University affiliation to 
tothedaily@michigandaily.com.

JOIN OUR EDITORIAL BOARD

Our Editorial Board meets Mondays and Wednesdays 7:15-8:45 PM at 
our newsroom at 420 Maynard Street. All are welcome to come discuss 
national, state and campus affairs.

