As a senior entering my last 
semester of undergrad, I’ve taken 
a lot of time to reflect on what 
experiences of mine have been the 
most memorable these past four 
years. Close to the top of my list 
has been my job since freshman 
year at the Conference and Event 
Services of the University Unions. 
It helped me discover one of my 
most important spaces on campus, 
one that many students pass by 
every day without a second thought. 
As both a student staff member 
and 
student 
representative 
to 
the Michigan League Board of 
Governors, the Michigan League is 
a place I consider a home.
Tucked 
among 
the 
many 
historical relics and steeped in the 
building’s history of the first space 
for women on the University of 
Michigan’s campus is the Blagdon 
Room — one of my favorites for its 
antique feel and beautiful stained 
glass windows. Another reason I 
feel so at peace in this room is the 
room’s historical purpose as a non-

denominational 
religious 
space. 
Among the stained glass windows 
are depictions of many world 
religions — including symbols such 
as the Star of David and the 
Christian Cross. A prominent figure 
at the League shared a powerful 
quote with me from the original 
architects of the building. Irving 
and Allen Pond noted: “The room is 
to appeal to individuals of all shades 
of belief, or non-belief; to anyone 
who 
desired 
in 
contemplative 
spirit, touched with humility, to 
place herself in harmony with the 
universe.”
It is with the Blagdon Room’s 
original purpose and meaning 
in mind that I take offense to a 
request to University President 
Mark Schlissel, made by a group 
of students in early November, to 
remove one of my religion’s most 
sacred symbols – which has since 
the 1920s occupied a pane on one of 
the stained glass windows.
As a Hindu, the Swastik (S-vas-
thik) or Swastika (S-vas-thik-a) 
is very important to me. This 
clockwise rotated cross with four 
dots in each quadrant is an essential 

sign of Hinduism. Celebrations and 
prayers are incomplete without the 
Swastik. It symbolizes the sun and 
is an auspicious symbol used as a 
good luck charm in many aspects of 
Hindu life. In my house, a Swastik 
along with a symbol that resembles 
the number 3 called Om or Aum – 
they’re also frequently seen on the 
sides of yoga studios and interfaith 
bumper stickers. These symbols 
greet visitors as a way of welcoming 
them into our home and are used 
to prevent negative energy and evil 
from entering my family’s space.
Historically, 
Om 
and 
the 
Swastika have been held as equally 
important spiritual relics necessary 
to mark occasions of happiness 
and allow for the influx of positive 
energy wherever they are placed. 
While the Om symbol is commonly 
tattooed on non-Hindus, viewed as 
a sign of peace and even a symbol 
of hippie culture, my family and 
other Hindus have been forced to 
decrease our use of the Swastik sign 
and feel ashamed and embarrassed 
by it because the symbol was 
culturally appropriated in the 1930s.
This symbol belongs to my 

people, but I’ve faced questions 
about its relation to Nazism my 
entire life. It’s important the general 
population knows the symbols have 
no relation to one another. The Nazi 
swastika (swas-tik-a) is black and 
turned on a 45-degree angle. This is 
different from the Hindu Swastika 
that is not turned on an angle and 
is typically made out of gold or is 
colored red. The Nazi swastika has 
been in use since the 1930s while 
the Hindu Swastika use has been 
documented as early as 500 B.C.!! 
However, like many other elements 
of Indian culture, the Swastik was 
stolen by white supremacists to 
erase our existence and culture and 
replace it with their own ideology.
My job on the Michigan League 
Board of Governors is to serve as an 
adviser to the director of the League 
and promote the heritage of the 
building. With this responsibility 
in mind, I think it would be a great 
shame to remove the window. 
While I understand the pain and 
violence that has been perpetuated 
under similar symbols, I urge 
University leadership to stop the 
stigmatization of the Hindu symbol 

by keeping the pane up alongside 
labels with explanations of all the 
religious symbols in the Blagdon 
Room and the significance of the 
room as a whole. It’s important that 
students on this campus understand 
the symbol has a huge cultural 
significance and positive meaning 

that represents a good proportion 
of students on this campus. It is not 
fair to those like myself that hold 
this symbol sacred to have it stolen 
away from us once again. Let us be 
represented on this campus and 
have it be an educational experience 
for all others.

This summer, LSA senior 
Zainab Bhindarwala interned 
at a congresswoman’s office 
and an advocacy-based legal 
nonprofit.
How did you hear about 
your internships?
I found both of my internships 
on Handshake. However, after 
submitting my application to 
the congresswoman’s office, 
I didn’t hear from them for a 
few weeks. I decided to “bump” 
my email in their inbox, and 
the 
internship 
coordinator 
replied to my follow-up saying 
he “likes my style” and wants 
to set up an interview. Lesson 
learned: If you know you want 
an internship, don’t be afraid 
to let them know you’re still 
interested! 
Finding 
interns 
isn’t every organization’s first 
priority, so if you don’t bug 
them about your application, 
you could lose a really great 
opportunity.
What made you want to 
apply?
I knew I wanted to have 
a 
meaningful 
internship 
experience this summer, but I 
didn’t want to go back to D.C. 
My motivation behind applying 
for the internship with the 
Congresswoman was to have 
a more “political” experience. 
I had a little bit of exposure to 
nonprofits already and I knew 
I needed to learn more about 
different 
sectors, 
especially 
since I want to be employed a 
year from now. My motivation 
for applying to the nonprofit 
was because I thought it was the 
perfect type of organization for 
me to work in post-graduation. I 
didn’t realize it when I applied, 
but their Michigan office is 
actually in my hometown and 
the congresswoman’s district 
office wasn’t too far away 
either, so it was easy for me to 
do both internships.
What are your favorite 

memories 
from 
your 
experience?
I didn’t intend on having 
two internships this summer 
– I really just wanted one. 
However, after accepting the 
position at the nonprofit, I was 
told they only wanted interns 
to come in two days a week. A 
couple days later I got a call from 
the congresswoman’s office and 
it seemed like fate for my top 
two internships to line up so 
perfectly. I worked three days 
a week at the congresswoman’s 

district office, and two days a 
week at the nonprofit. I even 
got a scholarship from U of 
M for my internship with the 
congresswoman, 
so 
things 
ended up working out pretty 
well.
My favorite memory from my 
summer internships is probably 
the connections I made with the 
other interns. This summer, the 
congresswoman had 14 interns! 
There were so many of us in the 
office and at times it got a little 
crowded, but I loved getting to 
know everyone and learning 
about what brought each of us 
there and where we intended 
to go in the future. We were all 
at different stages in our lives 
– some of us were in college, 
one intern was in law school 
and some were in high school! 
I loved talking to the younger 
interns 
about 
my 
college 
experiences, and offering a 
little bit of mentorship on what 
college is like.
What is the culture like 

where you interned?
The office culture at both 
of my internships was pretty 
laid-back. 
I 
expected 
the 
congresswoman’s office to be 
much more strict, but since 
it was a district office and 
the congresswoman was in 
D.C. most of the time anyway, 
people were pretty relaxed and 
interns were given plenty of 
time to get to know each other 
and collaborate on projects. 
It 
wasn’t 
the 
competitive 
and 
networking-oriented 
environment that I experienced 
in D.C., and it was a nice change.
The culture at the nonprofit 
was a huge surprise. It was 
perhaps even more laid-back 
than at the congresswoman’s 
office, and yet I was still always 
sitting on the edge of my seat. 
I realized that some of the 
elitist culture in social justice 
spaces on college campuses still 
remains in the workforce. The 
nonprofit does incredible work, 
and that’s what made me want 
to intern there in the first place, 
but 
the 
behind-the-scenes 
intern experience was a little 
different than what they posted 
on social media.
Any advice for prospective 
interns interested in public 
service?
When 
you’re 
working 
in 
an 
unpaid 
internship, 
it’s 
important to remember that 
while you want to maintain 
a professional attitude, you 
don’t owe the organization 
anything more than that. If 
you’re being asked to do work 
that’s outside of the internship 
that you applied for, speak 
up. If you are unhappy with 
the way you are being treated 
or 
uncomfortable 
with 
the 
workplace environment, bring 
up your concerns with your 
supervisor. 
If 
they 
aren’t 
responsive, then know that 
you don’t owe them your time. 
They aren’t paying you, and if 
interning there is doing you 
more harm than good, you 
shouldn’t feel obligated to stay.

Public Policy senior Ashley 
Tjhung 
interned 
at 
Vital 
Voices Global Partnership, a 
global women’s empowerment 
organization, in Washington, 
D.C. last summer. While in D.C., 
she was also a Public Service 
Scholar 
at 
the 
Conference 
on 
Asian 
Pacific 
American 
Leadership, 
a 
nonprofit 
organization 
dedicated 
to 
creating a pipeline of Asian 
American, Native Hawaiians 
and Pacific Islanders in public 
service. As a CAPAL scholar, she 
received a $3,000 scholarship, 
professional 
development 
opportunities and completed a 

Community Action Project with 
members of her cohort.
How did you hear about 
your internship?
I found a posting for Vital 
Voices on the University of 
Michigan 
Handshake 
site. 
Handshake is … a lot and it can 
be easy to be overwhelmed by 
all the postings. However, I 
found it useful to find positions 
at 
organizations 
I 
wasn’t 
aware of before searching. For 
CAPAL, I was referred by the 
lovely Areeba Haider (former 
MiC senior editor). She had 
previously also been a CAPAL 
scholar and recommended the 
program as a great way for 
AANHPIs to afford to work at 
an unpaid internship.
What made you want to 
apply?

As a public policy major, I 
knew I wanted to be in D.C. for 
the summer, but wasn’t sure 
what I wanted to do. I applied 
to Vital Voices on a whim and 
luckily, I got it! For CAPAL, I 
knew I needed to find funding to 
afford D.C. and unfortunately, 
the Ford School does not offer 
great 
internship 
funds 
for 
undergrads. I also was interested 
in learning more about what 
issues and organizing AANHPIs 
were doing in D.C. and thought 
CAPAL would be a great way to 
meet peers and mentors.
What are your favorite 
memories 
from 
your 
experience?
During my internship, Sophie 
Otiende, one of the women in 
the Vital Voices network, came 
to speak with the staff members. 

She heads an organization that 
advocates against the trafficking 
of women and girls in Kenya. 
One of their initiatives included 
training journalists about how 
to report on trafficking and to 
empower survivors to claim 
their 
narratives. 
While 
the 
program functions in a different 
context, it was amazing to hear 
how similar the principles of 
that program are to Michigan 
in Color. Her parting wisdom to 
us was that women, particularly 
women of color, need to write 
ourselves into history, because 
if we don’t, no one will. It is 
my hope that Michigan in 
Color is one of those platforms 
that ensures women of color’s 
contributions are not forgotten.
What is the culture like 
where you interned?

As an intern, I appreciated 
the work culture at Vital Voices. 
The people that work there are 
incredibly passionate about the 
work that they were doing and 
that showed. Furthermore, the 
staff were highly conscious of 
trying to make the internship 
experience valuable for us. We 
had brown bags every week 
with different members of the 
staff to learn more about their 
jobs, how they got there and also 
some professional development 
opportunities.
I was also impressed by the 
culture at CAPAL. They had 
a great mentorship program 
where I met truly amazing 
AANHPIs who wanted to help 
others succeed. Furthermore, 
I loved my cohort and our 
program lead!

Any advice for prospective 
interns interested in public 
service?
The D.C. public service field 
is highly competitive. It was 
often hard for me to feel like 
I had a place there, especially 
as an Asian American. Luckily, 
through CAPAL, I met so 
many AANHPI mentors and 
peers who helped me figure 
out what I want to do in public 
service and were willing to 
make my next steps easier. 
Networking can feel really icky 
at first, but focus on making 
real connections with people 
instead of angling for a job 
posting. I really recommend 
getting involved in an affinity 
organization like CAPAL which 
makes finding mentors much 
easier.

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Michigan in Color
Monday, December 3, 2018— 3A

Being an intern in Washington, D.C. as an Asian American

ASHLEY TJHUNG
Managing MiC Editor

Controversy in the League: Reclaiming our Swastik

RIYA KUMAR
MiC Contributor

Here’s 
the 
thing 
about 
identities and labels: in some 
instances, they’re placed upon 
your shoulders even if you have 
a hard time relating to them. 
It’s not anyone’s fault; it’s just 
how society works nowadays. 
When you remotely resemble or 
align with a certain group, that 
label and identity is painted 
bright red on your forehead 
because the idea of a “middle 
ground” (of being a hybrid of 
sorts, a melting pot of different 
identities 
that 
combine 
to 
form another different and 
unique one) is still not entirely 
accepted as an actual identity.
Let me explain a little more. 
The other day, I was studying in 
the aptly labeled “Sky Lounge” 
of my apartment building. I 
have a pair of noise-canceling 
headphones I like to wear while 
I work, so I can focus better 
and 
drown 
out 
unwanted 
distractions. 
Unfortunately, 
after wearing them for a while 
they start hurting my ears, so I 
take them off from time to time. 
During one of these breaks, 
I 
accidentally 
overheard 
a 
conversation 
between 
two 
girls a few feet away from me. 
One of the girls was talking 
about how, even though her 
entire 
family 
is 
from 
the 
Philippines, she doesn’t feel 
comfortable 
identifying 
as 
such. She’s lived her entire 
life in the United States, only 
speaks English, never visited 
the Philippines and her parents 
never taught her about the 
culture. In essence, she just 
feels American, but everyone 
calls her Filipino because of her 
roots and because of her looks. 
Is that right? Is that wrong? 
Should she accept she’s both or 
that she’s only one?
It’s a very complicated topic 

that hasn’t been discussed as 
much as it should. I don’t think 
I know what the correct answer 
is, but I do understand where 
she’s coming from, in a way, 
because I feel the same.
At 
first 
glance, 
I 
look 
American. 
I’ve 
got 
white, 
slightly tanned skin, and I 
speak English perfectly. Back 
home people confuse me for 
a “gringa” (Spanish slang for 
mainland American) all the 
time. 

And I hate it, completely 
despise it. It irritates me to no 
end having to say, “No, no, I’m 
Puerto Rican, not American,” 
which is kind of absurd because 
in reality I’m both. Puerto Rico 
is a colony of the United States; 
I have an American passport; 
I am American, right? But I’m 
an American who was born in 
Puerto Rico. 
So why the discomfort? Why 
shouldn’t I just accept it?
Because, unlike the girl I 
mentioned above, I grew up and 
still live in Puerto Rico. My first 
language is Spanish; my music 
is reguetón, salsa y merengue; 
my sport is soccer, not football; 
my national anthem is “La 
Borinqueña”; and my flag has 
one 
single, 
bright, 
shining 

star in it. Because I grew up 
in a place that many mainland 
Americans are unaware of — 
that many don’t even realize 
is actually national, and not 
classified 
as 
international. 
Because I’ve been asked if I 
need sponsorship for a work 
visa, if I have a student visa; 
because, even though it has a 
spot in Congress, Puerto Rico 
doesn’t have a voice or a vote. 
Because I saw how the United 
States treated Puerto Rico after 
hurricanes Maria and Irma; 
because I witnessed how the 
media failed to account for 
the actual death toll of the 
hurricanes until a year after the 
disaster; how they completely 
stopped reporting on the state 
of the island a little less than 
a week after the storms had 
struck; 
how 
the 
president 
of the United States (and of 
Puerto Rico — it’s a colony of 
the United States, therefore 
under 
the 
same 
governing 
body) threw paper towels in 
an absurd attempt to aid the 
islanders after the disasters.
Why should I feel American 
if all that I have witnessed 
recently and for my entire life is 
how terribly the United States 
has treated Puerto Rico?
Are my feelings right? Are 
they unjustifiable? Are they 
wrong?
I’m not going to pretend 
that I know what the correct 
answer is because I honestly 
don’t. I just hope that you 
finish reading this and are 
willing to speak up more on the 
idea surrounding the identities 
people are born into and the 
ones they align with, because 
in some cases, they’re different. 
Given all the conversations and 
discussions that have surfaced 
in the past two years or so 
around the topic of immigrants 
and immigration, it should be 
taken into consideration.

Unpaid internships in MI
Why I don’t feel American, 
even though I’m Puerto Rican

NATALIA SANCHEZ
MiC Columnist

ZAINAB BHINDARWALA
Senior MiC Editor

It irritates me to 
no end having to 
say, “No, no, I’m 
Puerto Rican, not 
American,” which 
is absurd because 
... I’m both

SADHANA RAMASESHADRI/Daily

I realized that some 
of the elitist culture 
in social justice 
spaces on college 
campuses remains in 
the workforce