C
oming out of the Iowa
caucus
victorious,
Democratic
candidate
and Mayor of South Bend, Ind.,
Pete Buttigieg has seen a recent
surge in popularity. Because he
is the first openly gay person
to make a serious bid for the
presidency, Buttigieg’s success
is undoubtedly a big moment for
LGBTQ+ Americans, especially
in a state like Iowa that voted
for Donald Trump four years
ago.
However,
that
hasn’t
made him the community’s
champion. LGBTQ+ voters in
Iowa strongly favored Sen.
Bernie
Sanders,
I-Vt.,
and
even preferred Sen. Elizabeth
Warren, D-Mass., to Buttigieg.
This may seem strange from
an outside perspective, but
the truth is that Buttigieg has
fallen short on many of the
issues that impact everyday
LGBTQ+ Americans.
Perhaps
the
biggest
controversy
surrounding
Buttigieg is the poor relations
between
nonwhite
citizens
and the police force in South
Bend under his leadership. Just
months after becoming mayor,
he fired police chief Darryl
Boykins for allegations that he
had recorded white officers
using racist language, including
that in reference to Boykins
himself. Boykins was one of
three Black public leaders in
South Bend, all of whom were
gone within three months of
Buttigieg’s first day; meanwhile,
some of the recorded officers
have since moved into higher
positions
and
the
city’s
settlement awarded them 10
times as much money as it did
Boykins. That same year, a Black
teen was beaten and shot with a
stun gun in his own home (and
was awarded $18 in 2016 for his
troubles by the court), and last
year a Black man was shot dead
by a white SBPD officer with no
body cam turned on. In a city
with a 27 percent Black and 15
percent Latinx population, the
police department is 90 percent
white.
As mayor, it is crucial that
Buttigieg address his police
department’s mistreatment of
marginalized people, but he
has failed to do so. In the wake
of the fatal shooting, Mayor
Buttigieg
began
discussions
with activists in which he
denied requests to fire the police
chief over his subordinate’s
deadly misconduct — which is
especially poignant given his
swiftness in firing Chief Boykins
for audio recordings. As talks
with activists trickled down
the
bureaucratic
hierarchy
and more and more officials
ignored requests for comment,
SBPD officers brought firearms
to community meetings about
police brutality — meetings that
the mayor promised, and failed,
to attend.
As it so happens, LGBTQ+
Americans also have a history
fraught with police violence.
The catalyst for the modern gay
rights movement was a series
of riots against police raiding
gay-
and
trans-frequented
establishments like Compton’s
Cafeteria
in
1966
and
the
Stonewall Inn in 1969. There’s
a reason trans women of color
like Sylvia Rivera are credited
with starting the fight; trans
and nonwhite LGBTQ+ folk
were outcast from mainstream
society to the point that they
relied solely on their own found
families
of
other
LGBTQ+
people to survive, like the
houses
of
ballroom
culture
portrayed in “Paris is Burning.”
Trans people and queer people
of color had almost nothing to
lose. Police violence against
LGBTQ+
people
remains
pervasive to this day — 48
percent of LGBTQ+ survivors
of violence who have interacted
with police have experienced
police misconduct as of 2013
— and it’s just as disturbing as
the police brutality was half a
century ago at the time of the
riots. Some cases, like that of
the transgender women in the
Sacramento County Jail in the
early 2000s, are akin to mental
and physical torture, including
regularly being paraded around
shirtless before male inmates,
hearing threats and slurs from
officers and prisoners alike and
rape. Needless to say, queer
people are sensitive to issues
of police brutality such as
those frequently seen in South
Bend, and for the estimated 42
percent of LGBTQ+ Americans
who aren’t white, it is doubly-
important.
There
are
many
other
issues not directly related to
the community that have a
profound impact on LGBTQ+
individuals. Buttigieg has said
that he does not think felons
should have the right to vote, a
policy that disproportionately
disenfranchises
nonwhite
and LGBTQ+ people; this is
even more troubling when you
consider the sheer size of our
nation’s
prison
population.
He’s been criticized by the
community
for
volunteering
with the Salvation Army, which,
while
altruistic
in
nature,
displays just how far removed
he is from the realities of
LGBTQ+ people less fortunate
than himself. Salvation Army
has repeatedly tried to push
homophobic
legislation
and
deny
LGBTQ+
employees
benefits or even fire them, and
as recently as 2017 transgender
people have been denied help
by one of their substance abuse
centers. Buttigieg has even
spoken out against LGBTQ+
media
for
criticizing
him,
and while his complaints did
reflect legitimate issues within
the general community, the
articles in question were not
actually written by LGBTQ+
media outlets. These comments
also came at a time where
many LGBTQ+ outlets were
downsizing or shutting down,
as some in the industry pointed
out, and disparagement from a
national figure like Buttigieg
only causes further harm to
queer journalists and worsens
public
perception
of
the
community.
Despite having the potential
to guarantee votes from much of
the LGBTQ+ voting bloc, he has
been quiet about LGBTQ+ civil
rights issues — so quiet, in fact,
some voters don’t even know
he’s gay himself, like an Iowa
woman who wanted to change
her vote after finding out.
Buttigieg has been quiet enough
on LGBTQ+ issues to draw the
support of homophobes and
moderate enough in his politics
to push away less rich, less
white LGBTQ+ voters. There’s a
reason these voters are flocking
to Sanders specifically, and
it’s because he has succeeded
with
these
communities
while
Buttigieg
has
failed.
Sanders has a long history of
supporting gay rights, decades
before it was as popular as it
is today, sharply contrasting
Buttigieg’s quietness and less
divisive,
more
“respectable”
centrism. And, perhaps more
importantly,
Sanders
has
become the champion for the
poor and the working class,
to which LGBTQ+ Americans
are more likely to belong. So
long as Pete Buttigieg runs
on policies that put LGBTQ+
people on the backburner at a
time when our civil rights are in
direct jeopardy, he will not find
support from his gay, lesbian,
bisexual and trans siblings.
4A — Monday, February 17, 2020
Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
A
s kids, we idolize our
favorite
athletes
like
literal
superheroes.
The analogy is obvious as these
physical specimens not only look
the part, but have superhuman
powers, whether they’re jumping
50 inches in the air to dunk a
basketball or trucking through
three men into an end zone. As
we age, we start to identify less
with the powers, and more with
the individuals themselves — for
instance, in the Avengers movies,
the conflicting ideals of Iron Man
and Captain America about how
they should use their powers
are what make the movie so
compelling, even to adults.
Early on in my life I realized I
wasn’t cut out to be a professional
athlete. I lacked the athleticism
and talent, but still had a passion
for sports, and as long as the sun
was out I could be found playing
pick-up
football
or
shooting
hoops. Even outside of sports,
people enjoy things they may not
have a natural talent for, and may
often feel deterred from pursuing
that passion because they fear
failure.
Growing
up,
my
favorite
superhero was Batman — from
the tech he possessed to his cool,
measured demeanor, he was the
ultimate threat to all villains of
Gotham City. Oddly enough, a
major appeal of Batman is that
he actually doesn’t have any
super powers. He is driven by his
mentality, which stems from the
memory of his late parents and
provides fuel to eradicate crime
and help humanity. Bruce Wayne
could be any man with fire and
drive for a cause, and that persona
could inspire any average person
to do amazing things.
As an athlete, Kobe Bryant
was the Batman of basketball,
a 6-foot-6-inch, lanky shooting
guard drafted into the NBA at
the ripe age of 17. Bryant was no
doubt talented, getting drafted
as the 13th pick of the first round.
However, in his first two years,
Bryant was far from perceived as
destined for stardom. He came
off the bench and appeared to
be headed down the track of a
solid, steady guard who could
contribute as a good role player
for a team. What separated
Bryant from his peers couldn’t
be seen in games, or even in
practice. His passion for the
game of basketball allowed him
to transcend the sport itself, and
become the legend that he is
known as now.
Many people view Bryant as
a personification of persistence,
dedication and discipline, and
assume that his success is due to
some sort of iron will. The truth
is that the 4 a.m. weight room
sessions, 1,000 shots a game,
tactical film sessions to get any
edge on his match-up that night
and blood, sweat and tears Kobe
Bryant put into basketball could
not be fueled by dutiful willpower.
He, like any other human, would
have inevitably given up. To
consistently be amongst the best
in the league over his 20-year
career, he was fueled by the same
intense passion for the sport that
existed from the day he picked
up a basketball. In his own words
from his letter “Dear Basketball”
written after his retirement from
the sport, “I played through the
sweat and hurt / Not because
challenge called me / But because
YOU called me.”
After the tragic passing of the
Black Mamba, I can’t help but
reflect on the values that being a
fan of his instilled in me, and how
much they have impacted my life
both now and for the future. There
are many talented people in the
world, and it is easy for people to
get deterred from pursuing their
passion due to the worry of not
having what it takes, not having
the God-given gift someone else
may. Kobe Bryant is a reminder
that people should never give
up on their interest, because the
only true superpower is that of
loving something.
Alanna Berger
Zack Blumberg
Brittany Bowman
Emily Considine
Jenny Gurung
Cheryn Hong
Krystal Hur
Ethan Kessler
Zoe Phillips
Mary Rolfes
Michael Russo
Timothy Spurlin
Miles Stephenson
Joel Weiner
Erin White
ERIN WHITE
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.
ELIZABETH LAWRENCE
Editor in Chief
EMILY CONSIDINE AND
MILES STEPHENSON
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
ARJUN LAMA | COLUMN
The Batman of Basketball
MIN SOO KIM | COLUMN
Fight the virus, not the people
A
good friend of mine
was
walking
back
home from her class.
For
whatever
reason,
she
coughed lightly. As soon as
she did, however, she could
feel someone looking at her,
almost giving her a glare, from
across the street. My friend is
Korean American.
I live in an apartment where
other international students
from a number of different
countries reside. I have run
into neighbors who come from
India, France, China and more
places. One day, as I let out a
big breath of relief the long day
was over while waiting for the
elevator up to the eighth floor,
three of my neighbors joined
me. One was from China.
He was talking on the phone
before getting in the elevator,
and I could make out some of
what he was saying, thanks to
my Chinese minor. The other
two were English-speaking
male friends. The four of us
boarded the elevator. By the
time we reached the third
floor, my Chinese neighbor let
out a sneeze. Unfortunately, it
was loosely covered as it may
have caught him somewhat
off guard. The two English-
speaking friends immediately
looked at each other as one
whispered, “Is he …?”
Novel
coronavirus
originated from Wuhan, a
city in Hubei province of
mainland
China.
The
city
has a population of nearly
20 million and is the sixth
biggest in China. According
to the BBC, there are more
than
17,000
confirmed
coronavirus cases and some
361 deaths in China. Experts
are saying it is still too early
to
determine
exactly
how
fatal the disease is due to the
possibility of undocumented
cases. However, most infected
people are expected to fully
recover in a week, like from
a normal flu. Following the
breakout of this epidemic,
economists
and
financial
experts
are
anticipating
a disruption in the global
economy,
given
China’s
emergence
in
the
global
market as a superpower.
Despite
the
severity
of
the disease, it is not an
excuse to overreact against
Asians in general. The World
Health Organization (WHO)
has
officially
declared
a
global
health
emergency.
Officials
and
governing
bodies,
including
the
Chinese government and the
University of Michigan, have
taken measures to prevent
the disease from spreading
— though they may differ in
extent. However, this does
not give anyone the right to
bring race or ethnicity into
the discussion. We see cases
of
xenophobia
and
racism
brought
on
by
diseases
elsewhere. President Trump
has banned foreign nationals
from reentering the United
States if they have traveled
to China in the past 14 days,
even though this goes against
the WHO guidance. It seems
as if panic about the disease
is spreading fast. But the
recent trend of anti-Asian
racism is not limited to the
U.S. Some Italian businesses
are
not
allowing
Chinese
people entry, and London’s
Chinatown has turned into a
ghost town.
As important as it is to be
conscious about our personal
hygiene in order to prevent
the disease from spreading,
it is equally important to be
aware that Asians are not
to blame. There was racial
backlash with the 2003 severe
acute respiratory syndrome,
or
SARS,
outbreak.
Some
Chinatowns were shunned,
and similar forms of racism
arose.
The
coronavirus
epidemic cannot repeat the
rhetoric of blindly blaming
Asians,
especially
Chinese
people.
The
disease
may
have no correlation to its
alleged origin — a market in
Wuhan — which means the
Chinese food the anti-Asian
racists label as “dirty” or
“unusual” will be free from
blame. We must stay away
from offensive speculation.
We must understand that we
are all different in distinct
ways, including our diet. In
the end, uninformed bias
and blind hatred may be
more
dangerous
than
the
coronavirus itself.
Min Soo Kim can be reached at
kiminsoo@umich.edu.
RAY AJEMIAN | COLUMN
Pete Buttigieg is not the candidate for LGBTQ+ Americans
KAAVYA RAMACHANDHRAN | CONTACT CARTOONIST AT KAAVYAR@UMICH.EDU
Arjun Lama can be reached at
arjunl@umich.edu.
The coronavirus
epidemic cannot
repeat the rhetoric
of blindly blaming
Asians.
Ray Ajemian can be reached at
rajemian@umich.edu.