Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

March 16, 2020 4:00 pm

Gerald R. Ford School of Public Policy
Annenberg Auditorium, 1120 Weill Hall
735 S. State Street

Free and open to the public. Reception to follow. 

Info: fspp-events@umich.edu 
Livestream: fordschool.umich.edu 

 
Continuing Challenges to 
Suffrage in Michigan in 2020: 
Who Still Can’t Vote?

Co-sponsors: CEW+ Frances and Sydney Lewis Visiting Leaders Fund, and the Institute for Research on Women and Gender.

PANELISTS:

DANIELLE ATKINSON

STEPHANIE CHANG (MPP/MSW ‘14)

DESSA COSMA 

SHARON DOLENTE (MPP ’04)

MODER ATOR: 

MICHAEL STEINBERG

#UMSUFFR AGE2020

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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

4A— Wednesday, March 11, 2020

Alanna Berger
Zack Blumberg

Brittany Bowman
Emily Considine
Jess D’Agostino

Cheryn Hong
Krystal Hur
Ethan Kessler
Zoe Phillips
Mary Rolfes

Michael Russo

Timothy Spurlin
Miles Stephenson

Joel Weiner
Erin White 
Lola Yang

S

ince Hasan Minhaj’s release 
of his talk show “Patriot 
Act With Hasan Minhaj” 

in 2018, the former Daily Show 
correspondent was met with high 
praise for his perfect blend of catharsis 
and criticism. Every Sunday, Minhaj 
conquers a new pressing political issue, 
from his first episode on affirmative 
action 
to 
his 
internationally-

contested one on corruption in 
Saudi Arabia, all while maintaining 
a strong level of relatability with 
his predominantly young audience 
of first-generation millennials and 
members of Generation Z. Patriot 
Act is undoubtedly one of the most 
successful comedic talk shows on 
Netflix, but Minhaj’s humor isn’t the 
reason. Political comedy has wandered 
into an era of condescension and self-
righteousness that ultimately rewards 
anyone who fuels this attitude, 
showering them with endless views 
and retweets. In today’s age of cancel 
culture, rampant moral outrage and 
the never-ending need to “out-woke” 
the next person, political comedy is 
slowly losing its footing. A genre that 
once served as a form of catharsis from 
serious issues in political discourse 
has deviated into superficial post-
humor activism where each punchline 
searches for applause instead of laughs.

Transformative 
moments 
in 

American politics demand a method 
for coping, but that becomes more 
difficult when every joke seems to 
be followed by solemnity. This was 
first witnessed after the tragic 9/11 
attacks when The Daily Show host Jon 
Stewart delivered an overwhelmingly 
emotional monologue that was far 
from comedic, and again after the 2016 
presidential election where Late Show 
host Stephen Colbert confronted his 
own genre of entertainment saying, 
“I’m not sure if it’s a comedy show 
at this point” — and he’s right. Talk 
shows endure a grieving period to 
console viewers on recent devastating 
events. But apart from this collective 
recovery, what was once considered 
a method for coping has turned into 
mockery and overt contempt that 
further intensifies and reinforces 
extreme partisan views. As a 2017 
study might suggest, this genre’s 
current dry cynicism and induced 
confirmation bias creates and fortifies 
these attitudes.

While Minhaj’s show might have 

more informative content to pair 
with the entertaining ridicule of 
politicians, his and others’ preachy 
activism isn’t improving politics in 
any way — it’s just making comedy 
worse. It’s a noble goal for comedy 
to try and make up for where proper 
political representation and resolution 
is lacking, but effective activism is not 
going to be found in an industry where 
the first priority is comic relief. What 
should be two distinct professions has 
melded together into a new role: the 
cometician. The “cometician” serves 
as the middle ground for both the 
comedian and the politician, making 
up for where the other lacks in either 
seriousness or humor.

Minhaj played the “cometician” 

when he was asked to testify before 
Congress about the student debt crisis 
last September, but when his testimony 
is received as “cute” and disingenuous 
by some politicians on account of a 
few pop culture references, this role 
begins to fall apart. And comedians 
aren’t the only ones trying to dip their 
feet into two pools: Politicians are 
taking on a more comedic persona. 
During his two terms, former 
President Barack Obama gained a 
reputation for his exceptional humor 
in delivering the traditional joke-filled 
monologues at the annual White 
House Correspondents’ Dinner. But 
supporters adored his wit for more 
reasons than his self-aware and 
relevant punchlines. President Obama 
struck a skillful balance between the 
conventional self-deprecation that 
accompanies 
presidential 
humor 

and the more assertive subgenre of 
weaponized comedy. The latter is a 
strategy that comedians often use in 
order to further their own political 
sentiments by delivering punchlines 
that not-so-subtly strike a chord 
among a politically aligned audience.

While the Obama administration 

found success in aspects of this 
approach, other politicians are still 
figuring it out. Former Democratic 
presidential 
candidate 
Michael 

Bloomberg launched the Meme 2020 
project as part of his campaign in order 
to reach a wider, younger audience 
and to gain credibility online. For 
obvious reasons, Mayor Bloomberg’s 
publicly sponsored memes were ill-
received by online culture, and his 
attempt at self-aware humor left him 
at a disadvantage. And it doesn’t seem 

to help that he is arguably the spitting 
image of President Donald Trump 
in terms of public persona — but at 
least in Trump’s case, he’s not paying 
millions of dollars to be made fun of.

While 
politicians 
are 
having 

trouble 
navigating 
the 
field 
of 

comedy, comedians aren’t necessarily 
dominating politics either. It seems 
that outside of his Manhattan 
production studio and the cyber realm 
of Democratic Twitter, Minhaj’s 
content is met with scattered laughs 
and weak applause. And that’s because 
his content isn’t for everyone. Today’s 
political comedy is directed toward a 
closed-off audience of people who are 
either looking for their next opinion 
or for another way to fuel their self-
righteous moral outrage. Apart from 
this audience, no one really reaps 
any benefits from political comedy. 
Instead, the same jokes attacking the 
Trump administration or mocking 
the 2020 presidential candidates are 
recycled over and over again within 
the Comedy Central network. And it’s 
not funny anymore.

It’s time to reevaluate how comedy 

fits into politics, because let’s be real, 
it’s counterproductive and repetitive. 
Today more than ever, politics is 
constantly intertwined with everyday 
issues, and it’s important to advocate 
for what we believe in. But there’s 
a lot of noise and misinformation 
surrounding any real conversation 
for change, and part of that is our 
fault. We demand entertainment and 
drama while refusing to acknowledge 
the advantage of a more critically 
constructive approach to political 
activism. We’ve given comedians the 
opportunity to stand before Congress 
and crack jokes to politicians who 
refuse to take them seriously. We’ve 
allowed for moral anger to be the 
status quo — where the only views 
that exist are under extremism or 
ignorance. Although indifference is 
the enemy to progress, perhaps our 
woke factor needs the night off once 
in a while. And political comedy can 
once again become the biting but 
good-natured means of relief. our 
woke factor needs the night off once 
in a while. And political comedy can 
once again become the biting but 
good-natured means of relief.

Political Comedy is not a joke — but it should be

EASHETA SHAH | COLUMN

C

ontent warning: This piece 
contains graphic descriptions 
of sexual assault.

It’s not something I talk about. It’s 

not even something I think about if I 
can avoid it. But I think it’s time for 
that to change.

Last year, just a few months into 

my freshman year, I became a victim 
of sexual assault.

It was mid-November, and I was 

at a mixer my sorority had with a 
couple of fraternities we have events 
with. I won’t name the fraternity I 
was at, because the truth is it could’ve 
been any fraternity on this campus 
— and at some point, it probably has 
been.

A couple of weekends before, I had 

gotten set up for the date party of one 
of the fraternities we were mixing 
with. I really liked my date, but I 
hadn’t spoken to him since the night 
of the date party (more accurately, 
he hadn’t responded to my text or 
added me on social media), and the 
realization was dawning on me that 
he was just going to be someone I had 
been set up with once.

So, I decided I needed to move 

on. “I need to kiss a boy tonight,” 
I remember telling my friends. I 
remember putting on an outfit that 
was a little bold for me, a little more 
skin than I was used to showing, 
and I remember starting to feel the 
buzz from the pregame and the 
boxed wine I had upon arriving 
at the mixer. I remember feeling 
confident. Feeling like the night was 
going to be a success.

I remember looking around the 

fraternity’s basement, searching 
for my date, trying to see if he was 
there. Maybe he was just busy this 
week; maybe it wouldn’t have been 
just that one night with us.

Or maybe — and I’m not proud 

of this — he’d see me with someone 
else.

I don’t know if the boy from the 

date party ever showed up that 
night. But about an hour into the 
mixer, I found the someone else.

He was standing on an elevated 

surface and noticed me dancing 
with my friends. He grabbed my 
hand, spun me around. It was fun. 
I felt pretty. I felt noticed. He pulled 
me up onto the elevated surface 
with him.

We started dancing, introduced 

ourselves. He was a year older, 
and I remember looking down at 
my friends and getting a look of 
approval back. “He’s cute,” one of 
them mouthed at me. We started 
making out. It was a normal 
fraternity party experience.

And then it wasn’t. Or maybe — 

unfortunately — it was.

I felt his hands on my chest, then 

inside the band of my underwear, 
and this was too far for a guy I had 
met 10 minutes ago. I tried to move 
his hands away, but he had a foot of 
height and probably 50 pounds or 
more on me, and he shook me off 
easily and kept going. He pulled me 
off the elevated surface and I tried 
to look for my friends, but couldn’t 
find them in the crowd.

He started pulling me toward 

the door, toward the nebulous 
“upstairs” where I knew enough 
to know his room was up there 
somewhere. I knew what he 
thought was going to happen.

Luckily — so, so luckily for me 

— I wasn’t as drunk as he thought I 
was. I dragged my feet as he pulled 
me along. I started with the typical 
excuses. “I have a 9 a.m. tomorrow.” 
I didn’t. “I have to be up early.” I 
didn’t. “My friend is so drunk, I 
have to make sure she’s okay.” The 
friends I was with that night had all 
had less to drink than I had, and we 
were all holding up just fine.

He didn’t buy it and kept pulling 

me upstairs. He stopped for a second 
in a corner, and I was relieved. 
Maybe I’d gotten out after all. And 
then his hands were back, inside my 
underwear again, inside of me, and I 
couldn’t get him to move his hands 
away.

“Stop,” I said. “No, stop, please, I 

just met you —” 

“Come on,” he said and started 

pulling me toward the door again.

Every single day, I’m thankful for 

what happened next. We ran into a 
girl who lived in my hall. She and I 
were friendly, and had even gotten 
a few meals at South Quad together, 
but we joined different sororities 
and had never been all that close. 
But she saw us, saw enough to guess 
what was going on. She came over 
to me and started talking. To his 
surprise, the boy let go of my hand, 
and that girl from my hall led me 
away from him and put me in an 
Uber back to West Quad.

We all know what would’ve 

happened if I hadn’t run into her 
right then.

The state of Michigan defines 

what happened to me that night as 
criminal sexual assault in the third 
degree, but I knew I wasn’t going 
to press charges or report it. The 
system is too broken. No matter 
what I did, nothing was going to 
happen. 

I knew what people would say. 

I had been drinking, had been 

wearing revealing clothes — never 
mind the fact that I was barely 
tipsy, just a couple drinks in, and 
while, what I was wearing was bold 
for me, it was still pretty standard 
fare for a fraternity party, and 
not at all revealing by my friends’ 
standards.

That 
night 
I 
had 
done 

everything I’d been taught. I didn’t 
get too drunk, I stayed within my 
limit, I came with friends. It was a 
fraternity I knew well, a fraternity I 
felt comfortable at.

It still happened.
What I wanted — what I still 

want — is to move on, not to let 
it affect me. I still go back to that 
fraternity, still have a drink or two 
(or more) on occasion, even still 
wear that outfit. That boy doesn’t 
get to take any of that away from 
me.

But not every girl is so lucky. 

Not every girl has the luxury, the 
luck of getting out like I did. Not 
every girl can move on as I’ve tried 
to.

And for all of us, the system is 

broken. So, so beyond broken that 
I knew from the moment that 
I walked out of that fraternity 
house that I wasn’t going to do 
anything about it — that I couldn’t 
do anything about it. Not when 
this University has a history if 
instutional sexual misconduct.

That’s how broken the system 

is. Not just generally, but at the 
University of Michigan.

So broken that I knew from 

the moment this happened to me 
that I knew there was nothing I 
could do about it but keep moving 
forward. So I did.

I don’t know what I expect 

to happen as a result of this 
article coming out. I certainly 
don’t 
expect 
anything 
from 

the University; I’ve learned I 
can’t expect anything from the 
University in this arena. 

But with all this going on, I 

need to speak up. Need someone 
— anyone — to hear me when I 
say: 

me too.
Editor’s note: The author’s 

name was omitted to protect their 
identity.

Survivors Speak: Me too

ANONYMOUS | SURVIVORS SPEAK

This piece is a part of the Survivors 

Speak series, which seeks to share 

the varied, first-person experiences of 

survivors of sexual assault. If you are 

a survivor and would like to submit to 

the series, please see our guidelines 

for submission ar https://tinyurl.com/

survivorsspeak2020.

T

he 
results 
are 
in: 

Former Vice President 
Joe Biden has taken 

Michigan. His strong support 
from populous counties like 
Wayne and Oakland, as well 
as an endorsement from Gov. 
Gretchen Whitmer, have no 
doubt contributed to this 
outcome.

On Feb. 23, before the 

Michigan 
Primary, 
The 

Michigan 
Daily 
Editorial 

Board endorsed Sen. Bernie 
Sanders, I-Vt., for Democratic 
presidential 
candidate. 

Following a long, in-depth 
discussion on the strengths 
and weaknesses of the possible 
candidates at the time, the 
Editorial Board came to the 
conclusion that Sanders best 
represented the interests of 
our student body and remained 
the only candidate who was 
uniquely equipped to defeat 
President 
Donald 
Trump’s 

incumbency. 
The 
senator’s 

policies 
regarding 
climate 

change, universal healthcare 
and forgiveness of student 
debt are the main factors that 
led to this conclusion. 

In the weeks following 

this 
endorsement, 
the 

Opinion 
Desk 
stands 
by 

the 
Editorial 
Board’s 

decision. Within Washtenaw 
County and especially the 
University of Michigan, it 
appears 
Sanders 
enjoys 
a 

great amount of support. As 
demonstrated by his heavily 
attended campaign rally on 
the Diag this past Sunday, 

the 
senator 
maintains 
a 

passionate stronghold among 
voters in the Ann Arbor 
area. The results of Super 
Tuesday, while undoubtedly 
disappointing for the Sanders 
campaign, greatly narrowed 
the playing field of potential 
nominees. With only Sanders 
and Biden emerging as viable 
contenders, it was clear that 
Sanders remained a strong 
option for Tuesday’s primary 
in Michigan. 

In 
a 
county 
that 
was 

comparatively 
supportive 

of Sanders last night, it is 
important to refrain from 
demonizing 
Biden 
moving 

into the general election. In 
endorsement 
discussions, 

no member of the Editorial 
Board ultimately put their 
support behind the former 
vice president. However, we 
were able to discuss as a group 
his strengths as a candidate, 
such as his long-standing 
experience in governmental 
affairs, history of reaching 
across the aisle to work with 
republicans, name familiarity 
and high polling numbers in 
the South and among racial 
minorities.

At this time, it appears 

as though Biden will be the 
Democratic Party’s nominee 
come the general election. 
With that in consideration, 
it is important for Democrats 
to rally behind Biden should 
he win the nomination and 
keep 
the 
characteristics 

that may allow him to win 

the presidency in mind. For 
example, Biden appears to be 
the most capable candidate 
to win in areas previously 
won by Trump in the 2016 
election. Additionally, former 
candidates including former 
Mayor of South Bend, Ind., 
Pete 
Buttigieg, 
Sen. 
Amy 

Klobuchar, 
D-Minn., 
Sen. 

Kamala 
Harris, 
D-Calif., 

Former 
Representative 

Beto 
O’Rourke, 
Andrew 

Yang and Sen. Cory Booker, 
D-N.J., have all endorsed Joe 
Biden. With the formation 
of such a coalition, Biden 
has strengthened his base 
of supporters going into the 
general election. 

While the Editorial Board’s 

endorsement did not match up 
with the results of the state 
of Michigan, they should not 
discourage all U-M and Ann 
Arbor voters from staying 
passionate about the election. 
Voter turnout is expected 
to rise in the 2020 elections 
compared to previous years, 
and 
we 
encourage 
our 

community 
to 
participate 

in the heightened political 
engagement. And even if you 
won’t be voting for your ideal 
candidate in November, the 
only thing worse than that is 
not voting at all.

Easheta Shah can be reached at 

shaheash@umich.edu.

From the Opinion Desk: Moving on from Michigan Primary

MICHIGAN DAILY OPINION DESK | OP-ED

Author’s note: This piece reflects 

the opinions of the Editorial Page 

Editors and Senior Opinion Editors of 

The Michigan Daily, not those of the 

Editorial Board.

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