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.