Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Thursday, December 5, 2019

Alanna Berger
Zack Blumberg
Emily Considine
Emma Chang
Joel Danilewitz

Cheryn Hong
Krystal Hur
Ethan Kessler
Magdalena Mihaylova
Mary Rolfes
Michael Russo

Timothy Spurlin
Miles Stephenson
Joel Weiner
Erin White 
Lola Yang

FINNTAN STORER
Managing Editor

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EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

MARY ROLFES | COLUMN

The im-Pact of the nuptial narrative

RILEY DEHR | COLUMN

No water, no air, no rights

A need for nostalgia

L

ike 
many 
students 
across 
the 
University 
of Michigan’s campus, 
on Monday, Nov. 11, I spent 
the evening distracted from 
my work in anticipation for a 
special inbox notification. It 
wasn’t related to an internship 
update, a grad school application 
or 
even 
a 
dreaded 
Canvas 
posting. On Monday night, I 
waited with bated breath for 
the results of an online dating 
survey — the Michigan Marriage 
Pact. Created by U-M students 
for U-M students, the survey 
originated as a project for a 
psychology class and quickly 
became so much more. Word of 
this matchmaking service spread 
across campus, and within a few 
weeks, it seemed like everyone 
had taken part — even those of 
us already in relationships. Soon 
after the results were sent out on 
Monday night, the U-M Facebook 
meme page was flooded with 
Pact-related content, including 
lamentations over large age 
differences, mismatched gender 
preferences and the algorithms’ 
failure to pair them with anyone 
at all. Unfortunately, after all 
the anticipation of the evening, 
I found myself among the 
unmatched. Despite my previous 
successes in online dating, the 
Marriage Pact left me loveless 
— well, within the boundaries of 
campus, at least.
My relationship journey with 
the Michigan Marriage Pact 
ended that Monday night. But 
for the survey takers who were 
properly paired up, the question 
changed from ‘So, who?’ to 
‘Well, what next?’ The project’s 
title implies a motive of tying the 
knot. Of course, this response 
would be a bit extreme — even the 
survey’s creators acknowledge 
this, 
disclaiming 
on 
their 
website that while ‘Marriage’ is 
in the name, they “never said it 
applied to your match.” And, yes, 
it does seem excessive to jump 
from an email notification to a 
nuptial celebration. But if a Pact 
match does happen to create a 
spark, shouldn’t the ultimate 
goal be to fan it into a lifelong 
flame and validate it with a 
legal ceremony? Whether one 
dates via swipe, soirée or online 
survey, there is an ever-present 
push towards the finish line 
of a marriage certificate. Any 
relationship that doesn’t achieve 
this end is regarded as not 
having worked out — as a failure. 
And every connection is, at some 
point, evaluated on its ability to 
be ‘the one’ leading to marriage. 
In the United States, the popular 

narrative of love is one of dating 
to marry. The domination of 
this single story normalizes 
an 
expected 
progression 
of 
relationships, leaving out the 
many alternative, equally valid 
pathways for lifelong love. The 
popularity 
of 
the 
Michigan 
Marriage 
Pact 
presents 
the 
perfect opportunity for us to 
reexamine and challenge the 
expectation of marriage and 
to promote the diversity of 
relationships and the expression 
of love in whatever form it may 
take. 
There is no questioning the 
prevalence of marriage in the 
United States. While it certainly 
has decreased since the mid-
20th century, the percentage 
of adults who are married has 
stayed about 50 percent for the 
past decade. According to a 2013 
Pew Research Center survey, 
love and lifelong commitment 
are cited as the two most 
important reasons for tying 
the knot. This sentiment may 
seem beautiful at first glance, 
but a deeper look at these high 
proportions naturally leads to 
the question of why so many 
people feel that marriage is such 
a crucial validation of love and 
commitment. There is nothing 
inherent about the relationship 
between love and marriage, 
yet through the domination of 
legal regulation in the realm 
of love, they have become 
inextricably intertwined. The 
same 2013 survey also pointed 
out the reality of the financial 
and legal benefits of marriage, 
which approximately a quarter 
of respondents claimed were 
important 
motivators 
for 
getting married. It’s difficult to 
deny these motivations when 
public and private institutions 
offer 
numerous 
advantages 
which can only be achieved 
through 
marriage, 
including 
tax deductions, Social Security 
benefits and health insurance 
savings. 
These 
benefits 
not 
only incentivize marriage, but 
also further normalize it as the 
ultimate form of a relationship 
when the same perks are not 
extended to other long-term 
commitments that don’t, or 
can’t, involve marriage.
Though 
the 
necessity 
of nuptials has remained a 
dominating idea in the U.S., the 
beginnings of a challenge to this 
norm are already underway, and 
millennials are the ones starting 
it. That’s right — the nation’s most 
vilified generation is back to kill 
yet another industry. And this 
time, they’re after the marriage 

complex. Millennials are the 
first age cohort to drop below a 
50 percent marriage rate for 25 
to 37-year-olds. The progression 
of love, then marriage, then baby 
carriage is also beginning to 
break down — the proportion 
of 
unmarried 
parents 
who 
cohabit nearly doubled from 
1997 to 2017, and a recent study 
revealed 55 percent of millennial 
births are occurring before 
marriage. It’s nearly impossible 
to investigate this trend without 
running into discussions of 
its 
negative 
consequences, 
such as financial hardship, on 
parents and children. But what 
these fearful arguments fail to 
recognize is that marital status 
itself does not produce these 
negative consequences — it is 
the social institutions that prefer 
married parents to unmarried 
ones. As late Gen Y and early 
Gen Z babies move into phases of 
serious dating and relationships, 
it’s 
important 
to 
continue 
challenging and restructuring 
the oppressive social structures 
that uphold marriage as the most 
valid expression of love.
The institutional regulation 
of relationships and repression 
of love has been slowly but 
surely decreasing in the past 
few decades. In June 1967, 
the Supreme Court decided 
unanimously 
in 
Loving 
v. 
Virginia that laws prohibiting 
interracial 
marriage 
are 
unconstitutional. In June 2015, 
the court made a much closer 5-4 
decision in Obergefell v. Hodges 
declaring the right to same-sex 
marriage to be guaranteed by the 
Fourteenth Amendment. These 
decisions were, without a doubt, 
crucial steps in terms of both 
civil rights and the liberation 
of love. But if we hope to move 
further in these fights, we must 
move beyond legalization and 
begin to question the need for 
a legal regulation of love in the 
first place. Instead of pacts, 
certificates and ceremonies, let’s 
focus on partnership, consent 
and communication. Let’s make 
freedom of love accessible to all 
by freeing love from regulation. 
To those of you who caught a 
match through the Marriage 
Pact, 
consider 
what 
you’re 
ultimately looking for in this 
and any dating venture. And 
for those of you who didn’t, just 
remember there are plenty of 
flexible fish in the sea. Of course, 
you may not even want to go 
fishing — and that’s fine, too.

SAMANTHA SZUHAJ | COLUMN

Mary Rolfes can be reached at 

morolfes@umich.edu.

T

here 
is 
something 
comforting and cozy 
about watching a show 
or movie from your childhood. 
A 
familiarity 
envelops 
the 
experience. You may remember 
every line, the introductory 
song or one episode that you 
really loved from a decade 
previous.
Nostalgia is a beautiful thing 
at times.
It is not a new concept for 
me, but nostalgia is something I 
did not really appreciate until I 
gradually made my way through 
high school and college. When 
we are all home on break, my 
friends and I regale each other 
with times from elementary 
school, middle school and all 
the in-between. There is a 
sense of comfort in the shared 
experience that, despite the 
seeming insignificance at the 
time, holds weight as memory 
in the present.
I remember as a kid, my 
parents always played their 
classic rock CDs throughout 
the house, and as an elementary 
schooler, I did not understand 
the appeal of “old music.” As a 
lover of classic rock now, this 
lack of understanding feels 
out of place upon reflection, 
but in the moment, I was 
genuinely confused as to why 
they wouldn’t play the music 
popular on the radio and 
instead opted for their CDs. The 
ability to connect a memory or 
feeling associated with a period 
of time in one’s life is truly 
remarkable. Little did I know it 
then, but there was an element 
of nostalgia when my parents 
put The Beatles or Pink Floyd 
or U2 on. Television shows, 
movies, songs, pictures 
— they 

can hold tangible memories 
encapsulated within them, like 
accessible personal supercuts 
made from some point in our 
lives.
This sense of nostalgia is 
prominent 
within 
today’s 
popular culture. Whether it 
be the inception of Disney+ 
or the fact that “Victorious”, 
a popular Nickelodeon show 
from the 2000s, was just put 
on Netflix, there is accessibility 
and focus among many high 
school and college students 
to re-watch things from our 
childhood. In the grand scheme 
of things, shows and movies 
from a decade ago may not be 
considered “nostalgic,” given 
that not much time has passed, 
but there is a sense of comfort in 
familiarity.
As college students, we are 
always 
undergoing 
change. 
There is always something 
happening, 
something 
being shifted out of its place 
of normalcy to a place of 
obscurity,. I think the onslaught 
and accessibility of shows and 
movies from our childhoods 
reflects something similar to 
what my parents sought in 
their classic rock CDs — a sense 
of familiarity amongst a vast 
newness. Recognizing a line 
from a show or a movie or being 
able to sing along to the opening 
theme gives us comfort in 
knowing exactly what is coming 
next.
Personally, 
I 
find 
the 
excitement 
and 
chatter 
regarding 
the 
new 
Disney 
platform simply a manifestation 
of something that has always 
been there, and now, college 
students are finding it. Nostalgia 
is something that we all search 

for in some capacity. For some, 
it may be the Disney movies of 
their childhoods, for others it 
is music. Feeling nostalgic can 
be brought upon by something 
as simple as a three-minute 
song or a 21-minute episode of a 
television show.
It is both good and bad to look 
back on things. Heavy reliance 
on looking back or attempting 
to relive parts of the past is not a 
healthy practice. Overindulging 
or fixating on things that have 
happened inhibit an individual’s 
ability to continue on in the 
present. There is a level of 
nostalgic indulgence that is 
appropriate but surpassing such 
fails to allow people to live in 
the moment.
Not all songs bring good 
memories, and not all television 
show episodes remind me of 
happy times, but that is the 
humanity of nostalgia. Not 
all moments are inherently 
joyful or upsetting, but that is 
what makes each individual 
who they are: The past shapes 
the present which builds the 
future. With that I think there 
is a human aspect surrounding 
the 
excitement 
of 
Disney’s 
new 
streaming 
service 
or 
Netflix’s 
newest 
additions. 
There is comfort as we move 
into adulthood, with so many 
question 
marks 
regarding 
differing parts of our lives, in 
reliving the familiar. As my 
parents did with their music, 
and I do with mine, we use 
nostalgia as a necessary means 
of comfort and warmth when 
so many things are changing 
around us.

Samantha Szuhaj can be reached 

at szuhaj@umich.edu.

A

s I explored campus 
those first few daunting 
and lonely weeks of 
college, I discovered the Nichols 
Arboretum. A patch of historic 
forests and prairies sitting in the 
center of Ann Arbor, it’s arguably 
the most beautiful part of the city 
and a rare peek at what the area 
may have looked like 300 years 
ago. I’ve spent many of my days 
watching the wildlife scamper 
through the grass and fly about 
the trees and underbrush as I do 
my homework.
While each part of the Arb 
is beautiful, the stretch of the 
Huron River that gently runs 
along its northern border and 
throughout the rest of Ann Arbor 
is particularly spectacular. I 
have countless fond memories 
of dipping my toes into the cold 
water or watching the stars with 
friends to the sound of its gentle 
babbling. What I didn’t know 
about this beautiful river is that 
it hides a toxic secret. 
From 
the 
‘60s 
through 
the ‘80s, 850,000 pounds of 
the 
chemical 
dioxane 
was 
improperly dumped by Gelman 
Sciences on their property in 
the outskirts of town. Long-
term exposure to dioxane can 
lead to liver and kidney damage 
and can cause cancer. This toxic 
pool, now known as “the plume,” 
threatens Ann Arbor’s access to 
clean drinking water. 
Floating under Ann Arbor in 
its groundwater, the plume has 
pushed the city to shut down 
more than 100 private drinking 
wells. The city has also become 
increasingly worried that the 
plume will reach Barton Pond, 
where the city gets its water and 
where trace amounts of dioxane 
were detected earlier this year. 
There are currently “virtually 
undetectable levels” of dioxane 
in Ann Arbor’s drinking water 
(which is why I now steal water 
from my roommate’s Brita). The 
problem will be one the city 
grapples with for decades. 
Gelman, now Pall-Gelman, 
is undertaking a process to 
minimize the spread of the 
pollution, with their level of 
effectiveness being described 
as “the least amount possible” 
by former Ann Arbor City 
Councilmember 
Chuck 
Warpehoski, D-Ward 5. The 
city has filed for the plume to be 
designated as a Superfund site in 
order to acquire more funds for 
the cleanup, a lengthy process to 
say the least.
When I learned of this vagrant 
threat to the Huron, I was 
shocked by not only how little 
was being done to stop it but also 
by how little punishment had 
been doled out to the polluter. 
It was unfair for the city having 
to beg for a company’s illegally 
disposed mess to be cleaned up. 
What seemed fair to me was to 
make Pall-Gelman pay to restore 
the groundwater to the way it 
was before they ruined it for 
everybody. We teach children 
to clean up after themselves, so 
why aren’t corporations held to 
the same standard? 
While Ann Arbor is forced to 

struggle with the pollution of 
its water, natives of Southwest 
Detroit’s 
Mexicantown 
can’t 
escape the reeking air pollution 
that fills their homes. Residents 
of this tourist and transportation 
hotspot, with the Ambassador 
Bridge right around the corner, 
have their air contaminated by 
toxic pollutants released from 
150 sites. It is the most polluted 
section of the most polluted ZIP 
code in the U.S.
The sky over Mexicantown is 
filled with chemicals released 
from coal and gas-powered 
power plants, the Marathon 
oil refinery, a steel mill and a 
wastewater 
treatment 
plant. 
The 
toxic 
chemicals 
being 
dumped into their community 
has decreased the air quality 
so severely that natives are 
three times more likely to be 
hospitalized with asthma than 
the average Michigander and 
face 
significantly 
increased 
rates of cancer and respiratory 
diseases. 
Instead 
of 
investing 
in 
cleaning 
the 
community, 
Detroit’s 
government 
has 
chosen to add another source 

of pollution to the mix. After 
destroying major parts of the 
historic neighborhood to build 
the new, six-lane Gordie Howe 
International Bridge, even more 
light, sound and air pollution 
will stream into the community. 
Detroiters, like Ann Arborites, 
are left with almost no recourse 
to fight the dumping of toxic 
chemicals into the resources 
they need to survive. This lack 
of rights is caused by the basic 
legal document that should 
ensure them: the United States 
Constitution.
While 
the 
Constitution 
promnises the right to life, it 
gives people no rights to the 
elements needed to live: clean 
air and water. It is a nonsensical 
legal 
paradox 
that 
keeps 
marginalized 
and 
prominent 
communities alike from using 
the courts to assert their basic 
human rights. With a Congress 
that 
has 
passed 
no 
major 
environmental 
legislation 
in 
decades, the Constitution might 
offer the only viable solution 
to a problem that is costing 
thousands of Americans their 
lives. 
America’s Constitution is one 
of the most important documents 
in human history, but even 
so, it seems like the Founding 

Fathers were in a hurry to get 
it done. It is one of the shortest 
national constitutions and is 
riddled with spelling errors, 
like 
“Pensylvania”. 
Written 
hundreds 
of 
years 
before 
conservation and ecology were 
concrete concepts, the writers 
also neglect to mention the 
environment, with all the power 
the government has to regulate 
it coming indirectly from the 
Commerce Clause. This is in 
stark contrast to almost any 
other nation, with 177 of the 193 
United Nations member states 
giving their people the right 
to the environment in their 
constitutions.
The effects of a constitutional 
right to the environment are far-
reaching, forcing governments 
to 
more 
tightly 
regulate 
polluters and more strongly 
protect 
communities 
from 
pollution. 
Most 
importantly, 
a constitutional right to the 
environment gives people the 
power and standing in court to 
fight back against polluters. 
In 
Argentina, 
the 
once-
heavily polluted Matanza River 
once ran red with the blood 
from the slaughterhouses that 
lined its banks, along with 
everything from mercury to oil. 
The millions of people that live 
along its shores saw decades 
of pollution take a toll on their 
health. In 2004, citizens from 
“Villa Inflamable”, a city deeply 
affected by the overwhelming 
pollution, filed a lawsuit against 
the governments of Argentina 
and 
Buenos 
Aires 
and 
44 
businesses for damage to their 
health caused by the pollution 
of the river, and won. Once 
named one of the most polluted 
places on Earth, the Matanza is 
still an industrial river, but the 
government of Argentina now 
works to ensure it gets a little 
cleaner every day.
People from The Netherlands, 
where the right to a survivable 
climate was secured in court, to 
the Ecuadorian Amazon, where 
communities are suing Chevron 
for over $9 billion for polluting 
the rainforest, have used their 
constitutional rights to protect 
themselves from corporations 
and their own governments. 
A 
constitutional 
right 
may 
very well be the solution to 
environmental 
injustice 
that 
runs 
rampant 
through 
our 
nation and especially our state. 
This would make courts the 
level playing field on which 
all 
Michiganders 
– 
from 
Ann Arborites, to Southwest 
Detroiters to those affected 
in Flint – could fight back 
against the state and federal 
governments on issues from 
the Line 5 pipeline to the 
constant corruption impeding 
justice for wrongfully poisoned 
communities. A constitutional 
amendment for the environment 
is the best chance Americans 
have at ensuring their lives are 
not sacrificed for profit.

Riley Dehr can be reached at 

rdehr@umich.edu.

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We teach children 
to clean up after 
themselves, so why 
aren’t corporations 
held to the same 

