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
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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.

