D

ue to a pandemic-that-

must-not-be-named,

many people have found

themselves quarantined in their

homes. This new window of free

time can be looked at as a unique

opportunity to try new things.

Perhaps, you can finally read

all of those untouched books on

your shelf, start exercising, learn

to bake, watch that show you’ve

been meaning to get to on Netflix.

While I am a big proponent of

trying new things, I also strongly

recommend
revisiting
things

you’ve experienced in the past.

Re-reading,
re-watching
or

even re-listening to something is

often looked upon as a complete

waste of time. Why give up time

that could be spent discovering the

millions of untouched materials the

cybersphere or your dust-collecting

bookshelf can doubtlessly provide?

To me, however, there is something

uniquely peculiar about revisiting

old work; it’s because we never

experience the same thing twice.

When I reopen a book, which I

regularly do, I am never reading it

exactly the same way. I’m a new

me with new experiences, new

memories and quite possibly, a new

perspective which will reshape my

views of the work. This same idea

applies to movies, television and

music.

It goes without saying that

our current predicament forces

us to reconsider parts of life that

we’d previously taken for granted.

Many of us have been faced with

new questions and begun to look

at life differently. These lenses —

quite possibly glazed with fear,

apprehension and hope — can

offer us the irrefutably magical

opportunity of revisiting fictitious

worlds with a new point of view.

Why, however, should you spend

your time re-entering a world when

you could instead be somewhere

completely new? In times of

stress, revisiting a work can be less

overwhelming or daunting a task

than tackling something completely

different. The words seem familiar

or comforting, like a weighted

blanket, and the characters feel

like old friends. With each piece of

dialogue, description or downbeat,

you may just feel a little more OK

than you did before. I, of course,

am not a doctor, psychologist or

person qualified to assess anxiety or

frustration.
Instead,
I
speak
from
my

own personal experience. However,

there have been studies that support

my claims about the benefit of

repeat experiences. In his study,

“Enjoy it again: Repeat experiences

are
less
repetitive
than
people
think,”

psychologist Ed O’Brien discusses

measured enjoyment levels of

repeat experiencers. “Repetition,”

he claims, “could add an unforeseen

spice to life.”

Harry Potter and Hermione

Granger were there to comfort

me
when
the
ACT
seemed

unconquerable. John, Paul, George

and Ringo serenaded me

through college acceptance and

rejection letters. Now, through this

uncertain and inexplicable time,

Lorelai Gilmore has helped me keep

calm and attack this new reality,

clever quip by clever quip.

We revisit the same songs again

and again — they become a huge

part of our identity. The same should

be said for the longer works in our

lives; books, movies and television

define our interests and can speak

to our perspectives, ideologies or

priorities in an even greater way.

Through
this
process
of
rediscovery,

we find new ways to connect with

people.

Even in isolation, we can

revisit, expand and reinforce old

connections made the first time

we experienced a certain book or

movie. Who were you dating? Who

were your friends? What were your

priorities?
How
has
that
all
changed?

Maybe a connection you’ve made

in this past year has forever altered

the way you feel during “To Kill a

Mockingbird” or how you pity “The

Godfather.” There are so many new

entrances
and
hallways
and
windows

within the doors you have opened in

the past. Find them, walk or climb

through and open them. In addition

to all of the new tasks and books and

shows in your queue, try applying all

of this newness to something your

brain
will
remember.
It
may
surprise

you how new it may seem.

I

n deeply embedded systems of

oppression, the most basic elements

of human rights are stripped

away. The right to plan your family size.

The right to drink water without being

poisoned. The right to get life-saving

medication without bankrupting yourself.

These issues are obvious in unstable and

undemocratic developing countries. But,

they also hit extremely close to home.

In
political
systems
marked
by

corruption, high violence and extremism,

there is a festering wound that is often

overlooked. The rights of the affluent are

prioritized above all else; elections are

blatantly rigged, the wealthy can bribe

the police and afford exemplary lawyers

to further benefit themselves in the legal

system. Challenges to the status quo of

government are “extreme” or “too radical,”

even when the statement is as harmless

as a social media post. Those who are not

prioritized by the state must be silenced,

or at the very least, disempowered in

order to maintain an unchecked system

that protects a small number of specific

people (tied by class, family ties, religion or

race). This can be executed by the state in

multiple ways.

In authoritarian regimes, freedom

of the press and freedom of speech are

typically the first things to be eliminated,

like in China, where the infectious and

potentially fatal COVID-19 originated

before spreading across the globe. The

restrictive policies that prevent people

from speaking about their experiences,

fears and challenges directly contributed

to the slow spread of information about the

virus, highlighting how domestic human

rights policy abroad impacts our domestic

well-being.
Governments
sometimes

progress from illegitimate (dictatorships

and extreme citizen suppression) to

legitimate (a government with some

available representation of citizens). In

this process, the powerful politicians and

entrepreneurs have to earn some respect

from those that work for (and are always

beneath) them, in order to keep their

power.

After
the
American
Revolution,

the founders had to reckon with a few

challenges.
These
challenges
came

primarily from non-land-owning white

men. In order to stop violent uprisings (like

Shay’s Rebellion), the powerful threw the

disgruntled a bone 80 years later — giving

them the right to vote. Despite what we

know and understand as an obvious flaw

in democratic liberty, at the time, these

white men were depicted as radical. While

their concerns were included in political

discourse, other disenfranchised groups

(African Americans, immigrants, women

and the intersections of these identities)

were still forced into cultural silence

through subordinating and dehumanizing

systems like race-based chattel slavery and

disenfranchisement through strict voting

laws.

Over time, as states become stronger,

the affluent and powerful have to mitigate

more challenges. When abolitionists (and

other grassroots movements) had clawed

their way into political discourse, forming

voting blocs dedicated to the end of slavery,

the issue many faced had to be reckoned

with. When white women and working-

class white men came to personal terms

with the atrocities of slavery — which

African Americans had been traumatized

by since the 1500s — the affluent and

powerful were forced to find a solution,

nearly tearing the country in two. In 2020,

the impact of slavery on generations of

African Americans is easily understood

as a horrific human rights violation. But

before slavery was abolished, abolitionists

were depicted as radical. The barriers

that exist today, upheld by past race-based

chattel slavery, are swept aside.

As mobility, progress and change begin

to occur and restrictions are lifted — for

example, the fight for gay rights demanding

media representation — and as individuals

who are hurt by the political, economic

and social limitations enforced by the

government finally gain a say, they see a

glimpse of what the affluent and powerful

have always had. This movement led to the

majority’s basic tolerance of their humanity,

which then led to the acceptance of their

legal ability to marry who they love. Now,

the adoration of a handful of white gay icons

(Ellen Degeneres and Pete Buttigieg) have

worked for their recognition. Once these

political, economic and social freedoms are

actualized for some, they justifiably want

to keep their sense of autonomy, affluence

and power. Sadly, the legal restrictions

and oppressive policies that they have

progressed from still have a firm grasp on

non-white LGBTQ+ members who face

disproportionately higher rates of violence.

Despite the expection of marriage as a

human right, for centuries, any display of

LGBTQ+ affection was depicted as radical.

Today, the legacy of those barriers that

many still encounter today is ignored.

Human rights issues are prevalent in

every country. In China, the suppression

of free speech contributes to the spread

of a complicated and deadly virus across

the globe, while the continued lockdown

and persecution of the Uigher Muslims

renders them specifically vulnerable to

COVID-19. In the United States today,

racialized
immigration
policies
are

leaving children in cages without their

parents or basic supplies to support

themselves. In the U.S. today, polling

places with high amounts of minority

voters are closed despite massive lines. In

the workplace, LGBTQ+ Americans are

fired because of their sexual orientation

or gender identity. Any state-enforced

policy that strips people of their basic

humanity, from their right to live to their

right to critique the government on social

media, isn’t an attack on one group alone.

It’s an attack on everyone, whether it is

immediately apparent or not.

It is unfair to argue that fighting for

fundamental human rights is radical, and

the fear of social ostracization should

not prevent privileged citizens from

advocating for a progressive candidate.

Those of us who are lucky enough to

be able to vote because of the resilient

and heroic actions of those before us —

those deemed radical, unreasonable and

idealistic — need to vote. Rather than

pointing fingers at international human

rights limitations, American voters must

first reconcile with the historic and

present-day oppression, discrimination

and dehumanization in their own country.

Not just for ourselves, but for everyone.

While the freedom of speech, political

participation and financial security may

finally be in our grasp despite centuries

of discrimination, we must use what we

have fought for to help our neighbors, not

just ourselves. And this applies to those

currently in power, too — continue to

silence and dehumanize others, and you

will have serious moral and pragmatic

fissures to mend. In 2020, vote from a

place of hope for humanity versus the fear

of its failures, and with the understanding

that human rights are not, and have never

been, radical.

4 — Thursday, March 26, 2020
Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

Alanna Berger
Zack Blumberg

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Emily Considine
Jess D’Agostino

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Cheryn Hong
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Ethan Kessler
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Mary Rolfes

Michael Russo
Timothy Spurlin
Miles Stephenson

Joel Weiner
Erin White

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ELIZABETH COOK | COLUMN

The “right” side of history

The unique experience of re-reading and re-watching

JESSICA D’AGOSTINO | COLUMN

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