Wednesday, January 16, 2019 // The Statement
7B
Wednesday, February 5, 2020 // The Statement
7B
I
finished the book “Make Trouble”
by Planned Parenthood president
Cecile Richards on a flight back to
Ann Arbor from my hometown in New
Jersey. As I closed the back cover of a
memoir following Richards’s rise in the
ranks from seven-year-old daughter of
politician Ann Richards to president of
Planned Parenthood, I began to cry.
I was overwhelmingly fervent about
women’s reproductive rights prior to
stumbling upon the memoir, but with the
closing remarks of the book, I felt tears
prick suddenly at my eyes. I equated the
emotion to being moved fiercely by a
woman who is dedicating her whole life
to fighting for equality and choice. I was
met with an incredible awareness of my
potential place in the fight — perhaps like
Richards once experienced. Her story of
working from young, punchy activist to
president of an esteemed nonprofit ignit-
ed a hunger in me. If one woman could
have such a relevant stake in
fighting for what she believes
in and stimulating progress,
there must be a way I could do
the same for my own beliefs.
Advocating for reproduc-
tive rights, gender equality
and women’s empowerment
is intrinsic to me in a way
that I feel in my bones. I
want to share that message,
and explore its implications.
For me, this amounts to my
words — my writing. It has
become important to me that
I can explore these topics in
the lines of my articles, plays
and poetry in order to open a
dialogue between myself and,
hopefully, my readers and
peers.
Surrounding myself with
friends
and
acquaintances
who share my views on wom-
en’s rights and other hotbed
social-political policies is not
difficult on a campus like the
University of Michigan. In
2017, after the divisive election
season and Trump’s inaugura-
tion, the Freshman Survey, a
survey run by UCLA’s Higher
Education
Research
Insti-
tute, stratified and released
results on students’ political
affiliation per University. They
found that 34.1 percent of U-M
students identified as middle
of the road politically, 43.7
percent identified as liberals
and 15.4 percent identified as
conservative. In comparison
to previous years, the number
of left-leaning students on campus in 2017
had grown.
I never thought much about the polar-
ity between political parties until I was a
freshman. The climate in my hometown,
Rumson, New Jersey, is relatively even
split and slightly right leaning. I did not
witness much animosity between parties
growing up: 52.5 percent of Rumson resi-
dents voted Republican in the last elec-
tion and 43.2 percent voted Democrat.
On Michigan’s campus, and specifically
in 2016 when I arrived as a freshman, I
realized that politics are divisive and
significant, being a consistently popular,
important topic of conversation. Some-
thing that was never immediately relevant
to me — bipartisanship, animosity over
political affiliation and alignment — sud-
denly became meaningful in my life. Upon
President Trump’s inauguration, the crip-
pling political polarity both on campus
and nationally showed its face. Amiable
bipartisanism seemed further away from
us than ever.
When I began to date someone I quickly
learned was Republican, I initially didn’t
give much importance to the probable dif-
ferences in our political values. In fact,
we didn’t talk politics often — almost as
if to avoid confrontation. It’s easier to be
agreeable in conversation and avoid antip-
athy than to challenge someone, especial-
ly in the early stages of a relationship. We
dated for a year, edging on political debate
a few times, only to extinguish the conver-
sations if they neared argumentative, as if
we both feared we’d squander the chance
at our happy relationship if we revealed
our startling polarity on social-political
policy and news bites.
Finally, near nine months into our rela-
tionship, I wanted to hear out loud what I
already knew was true: I asked if he was
pro-life or pro-choice — a simple ques-
tion. I knew what he’d say before he said
it, and he was aware of my zeal regarding
reproductive rights. We’d been awkward-
ly shielding the truth of our viewpoints
instead of allowing the other to see what
the other believed.
I don’t care for his opinion, and I do not
agree with it, but that doesn’t make his
having it invalid. His contrasting view-
point, or his being pro-life, doesn’t make
him a bad person. It doesn’t make him a
monster, it doesn’t make him cruel, or hor-
rible. It makes him a human being with
an opinion, just as I am. We were simply
two mutually respectful individuals with
deeply different moral values.
We both had our feet firmly planted
on either side of so many issues: gun con-
trol, abortion and the Colorado baker who
refused a wedding cake to a gay couple.
Political polarity couldn’t break us up — or
could it?
Our political affiliation wasn’t the rea-
son for the relationship’s demise. But what
did end the relationship was a stark differ-
ence in moral values and personal ethics
— something closely tied to the heart and
at core of the aforementioned issues. Since
handling the disagreement on the basis
of so many political issues with a serious
significant other, I’ve been wondering
about bipartisan relationships in 2020. As
we near another intense election season,
I kept asking myself: Can millennials/Gen
Zers date over party lines? Do we even
want to?
I never personally anticipated some-
one’s political affiliation would influence
my relationship with them, either roman-
tic or otherwise, unless their opinions
were severe or hateful. Upon explicitly
conversing about politics with the ex-boy-
friend who stood on the complete opposite
end as I do on social issues, I recognized
perhaps I have a threshold of tolerance, in
regards to social politics, when it comes
to the political ideology of my significant
others.
I put out a poll on my Instagram
story –– a quick, efficient way to gauge
ideas on the topics from acquaintances,
friends and strangers who fall in the 16
to 24 age range — and was impressed by
the 300 responses I received. Most of the
respondents were middle-class, Cauca-
sian females, leaving about 33 percent of
the respondents as male.
I am aware that the results of this poll
cannot be fully relied on as any concrete
data, as it is a biased sample from only my
Instagram followers who participated. I
am aware that different communities may
have varied reactions to the same ques-
tions asked, therefore, it is necessary to
keep in mind that the survey merely dis-
closed the opinion of the group of peers I
have myself. That being said, the results
provide an interesting look into the minds
of my peers.
I asked a series of questions, all with the
intention of uncovering my peers’ dating
experience among party lines. The first
“would you date someone with extreme,
absolute opposing political views from
your own?” received 244 answers for no,
and 69 answers for yes. This means about
80 percent of the participants stated
they wouldn’t be interested in involve-
ment with someone romantically of their
opposing political opinion.
When asked if they would be open to
dating someone with extremely different
social-political values, 235 people said no,
and 78 people said yes. Conversely, to the
question “would you date someone with
extremely different fiscal political val-
ues?” 106 people said no, and 207 people
said yes. The overwhelming majority are
willing to write off fiscal political differ-
ences, yet would be uninterested on the
basis of social-political differences.
One of my final questions asked if poli-
tics are a relationship dealbreaker, broad-
ly, to which 217 said no, and 96 said yes.
The results confirmed what I’d already
anticipated: My peers valued social-polit-
ical values to a point of unwillingness to
pursue someone intimately and valued
having similar political values to a signifi-
cant other. That being said, politics aren’t
a relationship dealbreaker to those who
took the poll, meaning there is a happy
medium of space where we can coexist
and even have the chance to enjoy those
with differing political beliefs.
Dating along partisan lines
BY ELI RALLO, STATEMENT COLUMNIST
Read more at
MichiganDaily.com
ILLUSTRATION BY DORY TUNG