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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Ann Arbor, MI 48109
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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