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September 12, 2019 - Image 4

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The Michigan Daily

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Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Thursday, September 12, 2019

Zack Blumberg
Emily Considine
Emma Chang
Joel Danilewitz
Emily Huhman

Krystal Hur
Ethan Kessler
Magdalena Mihaylova
Max Mittleman
Timothy Spurlin

Miles Stephenson
Finn Storer
Nicholas Tomaino
Joel Weiner
Erin White

FINNTAN STORER
Managing Editor

Stanford Lipsey Student Publications Building
420 Maynard St.
Ann Arbor, MI 48109
tothedaily@michigandaily.com

Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.

MAYA GOLDMAN
Editor in Chief
MAGDALENA MIHAYLOVA
AND JOEL DANILEWITZ
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

M

ore often than not,
the
line
between
knowledge
and
fact is blurry. Knowledge is
a
combination
of
fact
and
experience.
Facts
are
the
empirical orders of the world
and the social rules that shape
mindsets, and experiences are
personal
documentations
of
charting the unknown and the
unique perspectives that result
from those journeys. Both must
intertwine and support each
other to create knowledge, but
one cannot replace the other.
The unknown: we are told at
a young age to embrace, explore
and experience it. What we
aren’t told is that the burden of
expectations that accompanies
our identities can limit both the
beautiful potential and harmful
consequences of the unknown.
The unknown is filtered based
on race, sex, gender, sexuality,
nationality, ethnicity and other
divisions in society. Breaking
those barriers and gaining the
privilege to dissociate from the
stipulations of our identities and
fully experience the unknown is
easier for some than for others.
But it is important for everyone
to be able to try.
I grew up critically aware of
the color of my skin, and how it
outlined the expectations for me
as an Indian American. From
spending hours shuffling through
cheap, off-brand makeup to
find the perfect foundation, to
trying to create a playlist that
was not “too Indian” or “too
American,” the first 18 years
of my life were spent artfully
incorporating my Indian identity
into my American one. This
included exploring my heritage
through its art forms, literature,
language and pop culture while
concealing those interests under
an artificial persona – one of
which the Americans would
approve. I was presented with
a dichotomy of beliefs. “Indian”
meant traditional, beautifully
vibrant and ethnically distinct.
“American” meant the right
to free will, a plethora of
opportunities and change. What
resulted was an internalized
struggle to satisfy the two, as on
the one hand the unknown was
forbidden and on the other, it
was an entity to be discovered.
These empirical and social
facts served as the framework
for the rest of my life, and my
role within it seemed engraved
in stone. My Indian culture
presented a rulebook to foster

my mindset, and my American
culture paradoxically presented
me with an array of opportunities
without the freedom to pursue
them. As a result, my experiences
were limited to living up to the
textbook expectations of the
Indian American community
and beating myself up every time
I faltered.
The burden of expectations
began taking a toll. While I could
pretend to like math and tolerate
spice,
the
artificial
passion
for medicine, as I struggled to
mirror my peers and idealize
the dreams that were laid out
for me, withered away in the
competitiveness
of
the
real
world.
Everything about me, from
my career aspirations to my
opinions, were not my own.
They were reflections of the
stereotypes the members and
outsiders of my community
had for me. Identity, in any
capacity is what makes an
individual remarkably unique.

But often times we do ourselves
a disservice by limiting our
experiences to those of people
who have similar identities.
While there is a certain sense of
comfort and stability in holding
a shared set of beliefs and values,
these frameworks must serve as
reinforcement for a path to be
taken on one’s own accord, not
the path itself.
I eventually realized that
despite a massive immigrant
generational
gap

from
explaining to my parents that it
is normal to have a date to the
senior prom to convincing them
it is OK to change my field of
study half way through college,
and everything in between — in
principle, our journeys were the
same. At my age, my parents were
newlyweds in a foreign country
tasked with survival while I am
blessed with self-actualization.
For them, the United States was
the unknown, and they were to
embark on a journey that few

had before them. Surviving
meant sacrificing passions for
sustenance. For me, breaking
free from the shackles of
social rules and having the
opportunity
to
make
that
journey uniquely mine is the
unknown. It is up to me how
I define self-actualization –
lining up certain experiences
that force myself to wrestle
with my hyphenated identity
or maximizing my full potential
and embracing what it truly
means.
Circumstances,
and
the
subsequent
experiences
they
create,
vary
starkly
across cultures and societies.
It was my responsibility to
take ownership and advantage
over them, to allow them
to
complement
the
Indian
traditions so deeply rooted in
me, in order to build my own
knowledge and understanding
of the real world, just like my
parents did. Deviating from the
mindset my Indian community
cultivated in me for 18 years
and instead delving into the
unknown, even the parts the
social rule book prohibits me
from, has empowered me to
discover my passion and its
subsequent purpose.
As college signified a fresh
start, I knew that I had the
potential to gain four years’
worth
of
experiences
to
accompany my “Indianness”
and learn what my place in
society is, beyond that of the
typical
Indian
American.
From taking classes I never
expected to take before, to
experimenting with friendships
and relationships, I learned that
my community of Indians is my
strength but my passions and
purposes were two enigmas
that I needed to uncover and
etch for myself.
The
unknown
is
unfathomable. But it presents a
host of opportunities, ones that
cannot necessarily be defined by
what we were told or encouraged
to
believe.
Experiences
we
make for ourselves, ones that
challenge us and force us to
think critically may initially be
difficult or seem impossible.
Through charting the unknown,
however,
we
inadvertently
discover ourselves and establish
roles that expand and build on
our unique identities and offer a
unique perspective reflective of
our journeys.

DIVYA GUMUDAVELLY | COLUMN

Overcoming “model minority” expectations

B

ees
are
often
seen
as one of mankind’s
most beloved animals.
Whether it be the buzz over
Honey Nut Cheerios or Jerry
Seinfeld’s sarcastic character
Barry from the “Bee Movie,”
we seem to have a greater
affinity
for
these
striped
insects than we do for their
six-legged
relatives.
Man-
made bee habitats scattered
throughout
campus,
most
notably in the East Quad
Residence Hall garden, reflect
this love. Even so, the bee
population is still struggling
to maintain its numbers due
to habitat loss and the often
avoidable use of pesticides.
On
a
sunny
Monday
morning in September 2016,
beekeepers in and around the
town of Smallville, N.C., found
their hives — and livelihoods
— in tatters. Millions of bees
littered the ground, clumped
together in mangled balls of
crooked legs and motionless
wings.

Areas
that
were
once filled with the hum of
thousands of honeybees were
now silent. Juanita Stanley,
one of the affected beekeepers,
recalled her initial reaction
to
The
New
York
Times:
“Honestly, I just fell to the
ground. I was crying, and I
couldn’t quit crying, and I was
throwing up.”
Beekeepers
immediately
set out to discover the culprit
behind the deaths of their
bees. They found that their
county
had
haphazardly
aerially sprayed a pesticide,
Naled, the day before in order
to
eradicate
mosquitoes,
inadvertently killing tens of
thousands of honeybees in the
process.
The county administrator,
Jason
Ward,
half-heartedly
apologized
for
the
issue,
saying “We’ve learned that
the
beekeeping
community
in Dorchester County, and
in that area in particular, is
larger than we were aware of.”

Pesticide sprays — targeted
at pests like mosquitoes —
are
becoming
increasingly
common throughout United
States, killing countless bees
and destroying hives. While
deaths of captive bees on
this scale due to pesticide
sprays are rare, the chemicals
are
known
to
devastate
populations of wild bees and
dozens of other insect species.
According to bee researcher
Dennis
vanEngelsdorp,
“if
you’re
killing
honeybees,
you’re killing a lot of other
non-honeybee pollinators, too,
and those populations could
take a long time to recover.”
Since the negative effects
of
pesticides
on
insect
populations
still
not
fully
known, one can only guess
how many insects and animals
— beloved or not — have
been killed in the crossfire
in the war against pests, like
zika-carrying
mosquitoes.
An
unexpected
alternative
brings hope to the situation,
however,
giving
the
bees
a chance to buzz on. The
unintentional slaughter from
pesticide
use
is
pushing
some Southern states to look
towards genetic modification
as a sustainable alternative,
altering
the
reproductive
systems of pests in order to
disrupt
their
populations.
Genetically
modified
mosquitoes have been released
in Africa and South America
to fight zika and malaria-
carrying
mosquito
species
with
considerable
success.
This is just one example in
which
genetic
modification
has worked towards fixing
an environmental issue. In
fact, many environmentalists
see
genetic
modification
as
an
answer
to
various
environmental
issues,
including feeding a burgeoning
human
population
on
less
land and helping endangered
species
adapt
to
climate
change.

While
many

environmentalists
see
the
process of genetic modification
as a sort of Frankenstein-
esque process, others support
its use. Even so, like thousands
of Ian Malcolms, many have
spoken out against the practice
of
genetic
modification,
warranting
their
fears
by
using information unfounded
in and often disproven by
modern science.
Genetic
modification
of
organisms has actually been
the norm for decades in the
agricultural industry due to
its wide variety of benefits.
Genetically
modified
food
sources result in a higher
yield, reducing deforestation
in the process, and often
requiring
less
pesticides
than organic crops. Even the
great Bill Nye, once a critic
of genetic modification, has
come to endorse its use, saying
on
Neil
deGrasse
Tyson’s
podcast,
“StarTalk,”
that
“genetically
modified
food
has no effect on us.” Genetic
modification is not without its
flaws, however. It contributes
to the worldwide loss in crop
diversity and the corporate
domination
of
the
world’s
food supply, with 53 percent
of the world’s food supply
being owned by just three
companies.
Whether
the
moral
dilemmas
outweigh
the
benefits has yet to be proven.
The FDA has declared the
practice safe and the nation
must start allowing facts to
drive the discussions around
genetic modification rather
than dystopian presumptions.
So if you go out there and
eat a beautiful, genetically
modified apple that shines so
bright it burns your eyes, or an
orange the size of a fat baby,
you might just be saving the
world.

Why genetic modification is the bee’s knees

Divya Gumudavelly can be reached at

gumudadi@umich.edu.

MARY ROLFES | COLUMN

Finding love? There’s an app for that

RILEY DEHR | COLUMN



So...how
did
you
two
meet?” was a question I
dreaded hearing, and one
I typically answered with half-
truths. Sometimes I would say we
met at the coffee shop where we
had our first official date. Other
times I would respond vaguely
with the city where we’d met and
hope for no further questions.
Occasionally I would claim it was
a rogue LinkedIn message that
brought us together. Every one
of these partial truths concealed
the honest beginning of our
relationship, because we met in a
way I was convinced no great love
story could possibly begin. We
met online.
More specifically, we met on
a dating app, one making the
seemingly counterintuitive claim
that it’s “designed to be deleted.”
While Hinge has been around
for about as long as Tinder has,
its rise in popularity has been
more recent. Marketing itself as a
dating app for people who want to
get off dating apps, it differs from
many of its dating app siblings
both
in
profile
appearance
and
liking
mechanism.
The
app features answers to short
prompts and personal interests
alongside profile pictures, and
“likes” are meant to be tailored to
each profile instead of a recurrent
right swipe. These choices do
seem designed with relationships
in mind, focusing on personality
compatibility
and
customized
first interactions rather than
superficial attraction and copy-
and-paste icebreakers.
Still, it’s easy to be skeptical
about the ability to form a true
connection via Wi-Fi connection.
Topping the App Store’s Lifestyle
category chart, Tinder has played
a significant role in the growth
of online dating, which means it
has a huge impact on how online
dating is perceived. And whether
through design or through user
experience, Tinder has gained
a reputation as a “hook-up” app,
which has impacted the wider
perception of online dating – to
many, its utility is limited to short-
term partnerships and casual
flings. This reputation, along with
an assortment of other reasons,

stigmatizes meeting online as
unnatural and even desperate.
But as online dating becomes
more and more prevalent, it’s
important to question the reason
for the swiping game shame and
change attitudes about starting a
relationship online.
Part of the stigma surrounding
meeting online may come from
the remnants of the internet’s
beginnings. From the Craigslist
Killer to Chris Hansen’s “To
Catch a Predator,” the media’s
portrayal of those seeking a
digital connection was defined by
outsiders and people with ulterior
motives, and stranger danger

was expanded to the entire web.
However, with the expansion of
social media, it’s much easier to
verify a Tinder match’s identity.
By
following
a
few
simple
guidelines, online dating can be
a perfectly safe way of meeting
someone. To many people, it can
feel even safer than traditional
dating. Getting to know someone
from a distance presents a unique
relationship phase that removes
the pressure and immediacy of
face-to-face interaction. It can
make it easier to notice red flags
and judge a situation rationally.
In
addition,
bringing
the
relationship offline for the first
time can be carefully planned
so both parties feel safe and in
control. Of course, we should still
be diligent about letting trusted
sources know about our plans for
the first time we meet someone
offline. But this isn’t a caution
unique to online dating; it is the
same as letting a friend know
who we are leaving a party with
or alerting a parent about an early
morning run at the Arb. It is a
fairly standard measure we take

in many parts of our lives, not
just for Bumble dates.
Yet for many, the hesitation
surrounding dating apps isn’t
about fear; it’s about following
the rules. Isn’t using a dating
app sort of cheating? Winning
a game by cheating isn’t really
winning at all. Love is meant
to
happen
spontaneously,
not
through
swipes,
and
every great love story begins
with some sort of meet-cute.
According to Insider senior
reporter Lindsay Dodgson, the
convenience provided by dating
apps might even be destroying
love.
But
classifying
dating
apps as the easy way out leads
to questions about many of the
more traditional, “valid” ways
to potentially meet significant
others. For some, going out
to parties, bars and clubs is
almost exclusively about finding
a match. People join certain
activities and enroll in certain
courses in hopes of capturing
a certain type of person. A true
connection is expected to be
unexpected, but in reality, many
people are actively looking to
date to a certain extent, whether
through swiping, socializing or
their sociology course. Dating
online
doesn’t
remove
the
possibility of spontaneity, either.
What could be more unexpected
than
an
algorithm
creating
an opportunity for a perfect
match out of thousands or even
millions of possible pairings? A
well-crafted first message can
certainly make for a wonderful
meet-cute story.
Modern
technology
has
significantly changed how we
do
pretty
much
everything,
including
communicating,
applying to college, ordering a cab
and, yes, dating. Embracing these
changes breaks down stigmas
and creates a society more open
to non-traditional ways of finding
the one. Plus, couples with online
origins will no longer need to
sweat the question, “So... how
did you two meet?” That might
actually be a pretty cute story.

Mary Rolfes can be reached at

morolfes@umich.edu.

Riley Dehr can be reached at

rdehr@umich.edu.

It is up to me
how I define self-
actualization

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A true connection
is expected to be
unexpected

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