5
OPINION
Thursday, May 23, 2019
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
5
OPINION
M
y story always begins
with, “My grandfather, my
Zayde, was a Holocaust
survivor.” Sometimes I am embar-
rassed by how salient that fact is to my
identity. I have often pondered how
strange it is to have an identity rooted
in tragedy. My perception of myself
and the way I engage with the world is
inextricably shaped by the death and
suffering of so many others relatively
long ago. Trust me, it’s an awkward
icebreaker.
Last month, I walked across the
Diag on the way to the last class of
my undergraduate career. I paused to
wonder how many times I crossed the
Diag over the last four years. It must
have been in the hundreds. But what
about the times I have not crossed?
The times I entered the Diag without a
destination on the other side, but with
the intention to spend time at its cen-
ter?
The first memory that comes to
mind is the picture I took with my
sister at her graduation four years
ago. She had just finished her time at
the University of Michigan, and I was
about to begin mine. We took a cute
picture of her on the ‘M’ while I stood
behind it, as I had not yet earned the
right to step on it.
Besides that picture, there were the
days I spent hammocking in the lawns,
some occasional moments of doing
homework or waiting for friends on
the benches, and times like the morn-
ing of April 29, when I stood in the
Diag to hear names.
That day, it was Lori Kaye.
Throughout my time at the Universi-
ty, I have been part of the organization
Students for Holocaust Awareness,
Remembrance and Education. Every
year in April or May, around Yom
HaShoah — Holocaust Remembrance
Day — we organize a 24-hour Reading
of the Names vigil on the Diag. For 24
continuous hours, students and com-
munity members take half hour shifts
reading names of victims of the Holo-
caust from a stack of about ten thick
books — one name at a time.
In April 2016, I sat on the Diag to
read names, then again in April 2017
and again in April 2018.
In October 2018, my friend Zainab
accompanied me to the Diag to hear
names. Zainab and I have often bond-
ed over the similarities between her
Muslim and my Jewish identity. The
two of us are no strangers to histories
of marginalization and targeted vio-
lence toward these identities, and we
have mourned victims of that violence
together. That day, it was Cecil Rosen-
thal, and ten more names.
In March 2019, I accompanied Zain-
ab to the Diag to hear names. That day,
it was Mucaad Ibrahim and 49 more.
I did not linger too long to listen to
names that day, though, because we
had to run.
Zainab and I fled the Diag after
reports of an active shooter in a nearby
building. We huddled behind a bar-
ricaded door on the fourth floor of
Hatcher Graduate Library for upwards
of an hour-and-a-half, repeating, “this
doesn’t feel real.” Fortunately, it was
not real. It was a fear-fueled false
shooter alarm prompted by the sound
of popping balloons, which coincided
with a vigil for victims of yet another
instance of identity-based violence.
In April 2019, I sat on the Diag
to read names again. This year, we
rediscovered some old books from
past years of the vigil. It was in one
of these books that I was startled to
read aloud the name Israel Ringewirtz
from Nasielsk, Poland. My Zayde’s last
name was originally Ringewirtz, and
his father was from Nasielsk. After
four years of reading so many names
from so many books, I read the name of
a family member. The thing about the
vigil, about every vigil, is that I read
and hear too many names. They blur
together. They feel distant. Then sud-
denly, they are close to me again. They
feel like the attacker is right there on
the Diag with me, running towards a
group of Jews, or Muslims or whoever
has gathered to remember the latest
victims. Or they are the officer, run-
ning toward us, shouting at us to scat-
ter.
It didn’t feel real. What a privilege
that situation was not real. This was
not the case when my cousin in Cali-
fornia posted those words on Face-
book: “this doesn’t feel real.”
Zainab texted me. “I heard what
happened in San Diego. I hope you’re
doing okay!” I wish we did not have to
keep trading these words. This time,
I responded “it was my family’s syna-
gogue so I’m a little shocked.”
Two days later, I stood on the Diag
to hear a name. That day, it was Lori
Kaye. This time, there was only one
degree of separation.
I have read and heard possibly thou-
sands of names of victims of identity-
based violence in the Diag. It would
have been 253 more if I had not felt too
emotionally drained to attend the vigil
for the victims of the Sri Lanka bomb-
ings.
‘M’ stands for mourning
MELISSA BERLIN | OP-ED
Melissa Berlin graduated from LSA
in 2019 with degrees in sociology and
psychology.
Read more at MichiganDaily.com
AKAASH TUMULURI | OP-ED
I
’m an Art & Design student
in the Penny Stamps School
of,
yes,
Art
&
Design.
Specifically, I’m a Bachelor of Arts,
not a Bachelor of Fine Arts, in Art
& Design. As the italicization
indicates, for us Stampers, that’s a
big deal.
B.F.A. students take two-thirds
of
their
coursework
through
Stamps and can take IP (Integra-
tive Project) for their senior thesis
— three credits in the fall and six
in the winter of independent work
leading to an exhibition at the end
of winter semester. They are guar-
anteed their own studios, time to
work on their body of work from
September through March and are
advised by two faculty members
and one GSI while producing a cul-
minating senior project.
B.A. students take approximate-
ly two-thirds of their coursework
outside of Stamps, electives we use
to inform our art practice. The B.A.
curriculum exists because, accord-
ing to the Stamps website:
“As a part of a tier one research
university, we understand the syn-
ergies that are only possible when
making and research work togeth-
er as key components of creative
practice. With over 100 top ranked
university programs, we can offer
unparalleled academic opportu-
nities that enrich and deepen our
students’ creative work.”
Interdisciplinary studies is one
of the highlights of Stamps — in
fact, our dean, Guna Nadarajan,
gave a speech in April on the ben-
efits of arts and humanities inte-
gration with STEM fields. For B.A.
students, our senior thesis project
is supposed to be the culmination
of that interdisciplinary approach,
which we chose when we applied
to the school. This senior thesis
represents the moment when we
finally bridge the gap between all
the LSA and Stamps classes we’ve
taken for three years.
Now, possible changes to Senior
Studio, the revised B.A. Senior
Capstone, threaten to marginalize
the opportunity for B.A. students
to showcase the crossover between
the skills they’ve learned in Stamps
and the knowledge they’ve gained
outside of it. To put it bluntly, B.A.
students have a problem: we’re
caught between the ideals of an
interdisciplinary curriculum and
the pragmatics of tuition dollars.
First, I would like to preface that
some quotes are used anonymous-
ly. This is to protect the faculty and
students who were so generous in
providing their input to this essay
and to acknowledge the past prec-
edent of professional consequences
in giving this type of input. Second,
there is no one “to blame.” I’m
writing this so that students, fac-
ulty and administration can get a
glimpse into a student’s mind and
realize that maybe — just maybe —
students should have a say in stu-
dent matters. At the end of the day,
this essay is a call for accountabil-
ity more than anything else.
Let’s start at the end of Win-
ter semester — Monday, April 15.
Stamps Administration called a
meeting, open to students, to dis-
cuss the B.A. senior thesis curricu-
lum — B.A. Capstone, as it has been
referred to in the past, and Senior
Studio, as was renamed last year by
the associate dean and dean. This
coming fall, Senior Studio will be
an optional, three-credit course
taught by one professor with no
GSI support — as opposed to the
previous four credit, two semester
program that was offered from
2015-2018. Our exhibition would
occur at the end of fall semester
in December, shortening the work
year from seven months to three.
We would have the opportunity
to be selected for a juried exhibi-
tion in the spring, chosen from the
senior projects of B.A. and B.F.A.
students. There is yet no guarantee
we will get our own studios.
While the B.F.A.’s senior thesis,
IP, is referred to as a “program,”
or part of the curriculum, Senior
Studio has been classified by the
Stamps administration as an elec-
tive, which they assert makes it
possible for them to remove it from
the curriculum at any moment and
without faculty consent.
For B.A. students, this feels like
a marginalization. We are just as
dedicated to our studio craft as our
peers. We want the same opportu-
nity to produce the best work pos-
sible, which means being given the
time and resources to be able to
produce work of the highest cali-
ber we can.
In a survey conducted last year
asking B.A. and B.F.A. alumni what
changes they’d like to see in the
senior thesis program, many B.A.
alumni expressed hope that in the
future, “B.A. Capstone thesis is not
treated as a second-class citizen to
IP.” The alumni also recommend-
ed more credit hours dedicated to
Capstone and that Capstone stu-
dents be guaranteed studio space.
The program warrants it. It has
had full enrollment (17-19 students
in a course capped at 18) each year
it has been offered, and is viewed
as necessary by many faculty
members. As one faculty member
explained, “A senior year of IP or
B.A. Capstone with the senior exhi-
bition as the culminating moment
— a very public moment — is what
gives our program teeth and holds
both our students and ourselves as
educators accountable. In particu-
lar, I am bothered by the number
of senior B.A. students who were
not in the senior exhibition this
year due to the fact that they were
not supported properly to have the
time and space to create work as
their peers did.”
Dean Nadarajang appointed an
IP/Capstone Task Force in 2018-
19 to determine what the senior
thesis year should be for B.A. and
B.F.A. students, and this group of
four Stamps faculty concluded that
“IP continues as a two-semester
sequence — 3 credit hours in Fall,
6 in Winter. BA Capstone contin-
ues as a two-semester sequence
— 1 credit hour in Fall, 3 in Win-
ter,” and that “All IP and Capstone
students will be assigned a studio
space in the fall and shall be part
of the exhibitions in the Spring.”
Why, if there was overwhelming
faculty and student support for
Capstone, was it downgraded from
a two semester, four-credit class
to a one semester, three credit-
class with considerable resources
revoked? Well, money complicates
matters.
The budget model for the Uni-
versity states that, as of fiscal year
2008-09, student tuition, based on
classes taken, would be distrib-
uted as “an even split (50% - 50%)
between the unit of enrollment
and the unit of instruction.” That
means that if I, a Stamps student,
take a Stamps class, the Stamps
School receives 100 percent of the
portion of my tuition that goes
toward the credits of that class.
If I take a class in LSA, 50 per-
cent of that portion of my tuition
goes toward LSA, and the other
50 percent goes toward Stamps.
When your major requires you to
take more classes outside of your
school, you can see how the school
would be economically disincen-
tivized to prioritize your major.
Don’t BS our B.A.
Akaash Tumuluri is a senior in
the Penny Stamps School of Art and
Design.
Read more at MichiganDaily.com