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

