7-Opinion

I am a sorority girl, but not in 

the way they are typically por-
trayed: skinny, blonde and white. 
I am none of those, yet I am still 
in a sorority. This type of sorority 
often gets lost in the great umbrel-
la of Fraternity and Sorority Life; 
I myself didn’t realize a space like 
this existed until later into my 
freshman year, eventually joining 
during the first semester of my 
sophomore year.

 
South Asian Fraternity 

and Sorority Life has been around 
since the late twentieth century. 
Spanning multiple fraternities and 
sororities all across the country, 
this community is niche in that 
you usually don’t know about it 
until you stumble across it. In this 
sense, I truly believe that South 
Asian sorority life has gone under-
appreciated, particularly on our 
campus.

 
Dec. 7, 2020 will mark 

one year since I crossed into 
Sigma Sigma Rho Sorority, Inc., a 

South Asian values-based soror-
ity founded on the principles of 
Sisterhood, Society and Remem-
brance and committed to its 
national philanthropy of Domestic 
Violence Awareness and Preven-
tion. As I get closer and closer to 
my first “Sigmaversary,” I’ve been 
reflecting on just how integral 
this organization has been to my 
college life in such a short span 
of time. Organizations like ours 
that are a part of the Multicultural 
Greek Council are rooted in tradi-
tion, yet innovative and evolving 
with the times. We commit our-
selves to our philanthropy and 
service initiatives, and present a 
united front to represent not just 
our organization but our cultural 
values in the context of an ever-
changing world.

 
Joining Sigma Sigma 

Rho pushed me to my limits. It has 
challenged me in ways my other 
organizations have not, and the 
rewards have been like no other. 
As a solo (the only member of my 
class), I’ve gained a newfound 
appreciation for my ability to inde-
pendently tackle challenges and 

follow through with my commit-
ments. Joining this organization 
instilled in me the values of dedi-
cation and loyalty not only to the 
sisterhood but to myself as well.

 My journey throughout the 

past year, though significantly 
impacted by the pandemic, has 
been rewarding nonetheless. In 
January, I had my new member 
presentation, which is one’s official 
reveal to the rest of the communi-
ty. That day, I displayed the skills 
I had learned throughout the past 
semester and showed the commu-
nity that I truly did earn my let-
ters. A new member presentation 
involves the new class standing at 
the front of a room with their faces 
masked, presenting the history of 
their organization and greeting 
the other organizations that are 
present. At the end, the members’ 
identities are revealed to the audi-
ence, cementing their place in the 
multicultural Greek community. 
This meant that I, a person who’s 
always shied away from any form 
of public speaking, stood alone 
in front of around seventy people 
and spoke from memory for about 

half an hour. The event culmi-
nated in my Big unmasking me, 
thus “revealing” me as the newest 
member of the sorority. I moved 
through this entire evening on a 
rush of adrenaline, knowing that 
I was doing something completely 
out of my comfort zone but still 
enjoying it, even excelling at it. 

From that day on, I’ve found 

a home within my chapter that 
has been full of nothing but love, 
acceptance 
and 
growth. 
I’ve 

learned that having a sister means 
more than being tied by blood; a 
true sister is one who is loyal yet 
leaves room for growth, someone 
who has your best interests at 
heart and shares both your joys 
and your struggles. Having this 
sisterhood has been the greatest 
motivation for me in the past year 
to aim high and make my visions 
become reality. I spend a lot of time 
dreaming about what I want to do, 
but that dreaming often comes 
with the feeling that maybe I can’t 
accomplish everything I want. 
Throughout the past year, vari-
ous opportunities have popped up 
that piqued my interest, including 
writing for Michigan in Color. In 
the face of all of the talent I saw 
around me, I sometimes felt like 

maybe I wouldn’t be good enough 
to share that same platform. My 
sisters are also some of my closest 
friends, and sharing these wor-
ries led to meaningful words of 
encouragement to remind me that 
I have tangible skills to contribute 
anywhere I want. Interactions like 
these have been the extra push 
I need to pursue opportunities, 
eventually boosting my own belief 
in myself. 

 
On a campus where 

South 
Asian 
student 
life 
is 

extremely vibrant, consisting of 
multiple types of dance teams 
and social organizations, find-
ing Sigma Sigma Rho was like 
unearthing a hidden gem. I 
thought I had everything I wanted 
in my other organizations; I found 
friends and leadership opportuni-
ties, so I thought I was set. Adding 
a sorority onto my already precari-
ously high list of commitments 
hardly ever crossed my mind. 
However, meeting the sisters of 
SSR made me realize that one 
thing I was lacking, something 
that I had overlooked throughout 
my freshman year, was a constant 
stream of unconditional love and 
support from a group of resil-
ient women. I needed that set of 

females constantly pushing me to 
be the best I could be and remind-
ing me just how much I am capa-
ble of to truly start believing that 
myself.

 
Fraternity and Sorority 

Life has always had an interesting 
reputation throughout the coun-
try. I came into college adamantly 
against any form of it, but that was 
before I understood that a soror-
ity can be more than just parties 
and drama. Meeting some of the 
sisters instilled in me a desire to 
be a part of this organization and 
have these people in my corner. 
When you find the right group of 
people who lift you up and become 
your family on campus, you finally 
have the space to explore your 
own definition of what it means 
to be a strong woman and begin 
growing into that. Finding my 
Distinguished Sisterhood was the 
defining moment of my first half 
of college. As I reach my one year 
milestone as a sister, I’m apprecia-
tive of the growth and confidence 
I’ve gained as a result of my expe-
riences. My greatest hope is that 
this organization continues to 
thrive across the nation as one that 
is redefining what society knows a 
sorority to be.

On Nov. 20, the president-elect 

of the United States asked the 
American people for spare change.

Over half a million people in 

this country experience homeless-
ness. The national consumer debt 
has reached $13.86 trillion. Last 
year, 35.2 million people lived in 
food-insecure households. 32.8 
million Americans under the age 
of 65 do not have health insurance, 
and that does not even include 
folks that are underinsured. But 
Joe Biden is asking us for more 
money. 

The audacity of politicians 

asking the people they represent 
for money isn’t new. They raise 
money for campaigns, in the name 
of ‘fighting’ Trump, to ‘defend’ 
the election and more ambiguous 
efforts. On the other hand, when 
thousands of Americans lost their 
jobs due to the COVID-19 pan-
demic, only some of us were lucky 
enough to receive a $1200 check 
and the chance to apply for unem-
ployment benefits. This left many 
Americans struggling more than 

they ever had. And while I’m not 
saying that is a single politician’s 
fault (because the entire political 
and economic system of the Unit-
ed States has failed us), the inabil-
ity of Joe Biden, Donald Trump 
and their teams to read the room 
is astonishing.

Up until Oct. 22, both Joe Biden 

and Donald Trump’s campaigns 
have raised over $1.5 billion. Over 
$3 billion could have helped mil-
lions of people struggling around 
the country, especially during this 
pandemic that has affected us so 
intensely. Throughout past Repub-
lican and Democratic administra-
tions, the lack of financial stability 
of citizens has resulted in the loss 
of housing, transportation, health 
care, food, water and many more 
essentials. History shows us that 
one change in an administration 
does not result in resources over-
night, which is why giving money 
and supplies directly to those in 
need makes the biggest difference. 

Yet, the custom of giving poli-

ticians more money and power 
instead of providing community 
members with basic items is sup-
ported by many politically vocal 
people. On Nov. 12, Mark Cuban, 

a billionaire and judge on the real-
ity television show Shark Tank 
tweeted that folks should direct 
their money to community mem-
bers instead of political races.

This prompted responses from 

many Democrats, as the Georgia 
run-off election would help create 
a Democratic majority in the Sen-
ate. Those who responded claimed 
that winning the Senate would be 
more help than directly aiding 
under-resourced folks. Among 
the responders, John Legend, 
award-winning artist and self-
proclaimed activist summed up 
what most were saying.

While this is a simplistic way of 

thinking about the way the world 
works, no, John Legend. Politi-
cians do not help the people more 
than the people help themselves.

Politics are not simply “annoy-

ing”; they are often violent and 
destructive 
to 
no/low-income 

Black and Brown folks that they 
claim to be representing. There is 
no way to completely end home-
lessness, end food insecurity, end 
debt and so on without completely 
altering the way the government 
runs, which thrives on capital-
ism. Therefore, the best way to 

help people in need right now is to 
actually help them.

That means donating to small, 

local mutual aid funds and dis-
placement shelters. Spending your 
free time walking through neigh-
borhoods and delivering fresh 
food and water to folks. Setting up 
handwashing stations and passing 

out hand sanitizer and masks dur-
ing a global pandemic.

We’ve had Democrats and 

Republicans in leadership giving 
us less than the bare minimum 
while they allow landlords to raise 
rents and evict families and multi-
billion dollar industries to exploit 
people’s labor for minimum wage. 

As the iconic Black poet, Gil Scott-
Heron, says in his performance of 
“Whitey on the Moon,” a white 
man’s 
achievements, 
whether 

they be making it to the moon or 
the White House, does not change 
anything for Black people. The 
only real change comes from our-
selves. 

Wednesday, December 2, 2020 — 5
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Michigan in Color

My friend Grace was the first 

person to ever make me a playl-
ist. She sent me a painstakingly 
crafted 16 track ensemble full of 
SZA, Kendrick Lamar, Outkast, 
Amy Winehouse and Ariana 
Grande among others. It took her 
days to complete, and I still con-
tinue to listen to in its entirety 
years later. What truly makes 
receiving a playlist like Grace’s 
such an honor is that whoever 
makes it for you assembles every 
song with bits and pieces of your 
very being in mind. Like the fact 
that you prefer Cherry Cola over 
any other fountain drink, or that 
you bunny ear your shoelaces 
when tying them, or that cilan-
tro on your tongue tastes like 
soap, or that you wholeheartedly 
believe that The Atlantic is sig-
nificantly better than The New 
Yorker when it comes to the rat 
race that is the literary magazine 
industry. But more so, music is an 
extension of the soul, it’s every 
dream, ambition and fear and by 
that virtue sharing music comes 
to present itself as the most 
sacred form of friendship. In the 
midst of a pandemic and an age 
in which everything has increas-
ingly gone virtual, the sharing 
of music has asserted itself as an 
even more profound way of ini-
tiating and maintaining friend-
ships. 

For the first few weeks of the 

semester, I had become accus-
tomed to the sweaty palms, heart 
thumping, heavy stomach sort 
of sickly feeling that comes with 
the introduction of the dreaded 
breakout room. And while there 
are many things I have come 

to hate about them, more than 
anything else, I hate the lack of 
human and personal connec-
tion, the black screens, the large 
swaths of awkward silence punc-
tuated by sighs and wait-what-
are-we-supposed-to-dos. 
In 
a 

breakout room I was unable to 
read a person’s body language, 
unable to see how they grip their 
pencil or whether they tilt their 
chins up or down, and to observe 
the tiniest of details that ulti-
mately allowed me to tailor our 
communication into a meaning-
ful one, and most importantly 
served for efficient and stream-
lined group work. With the 
advent of online interpersonal 
communication, I found that my 
social skills had reduced to that 
of, dare I say, my middle school 
self. My jokes flopped, either fol-
lowed by forced laughs or none at 
all. Failed attempts at relatability 
with my peers left me question-
ing whether I was really that 
unlikeable. After a lengthy pro-
cess of trial and error, I learned 
that the greatest weapon of all, in 
the battleground of discomfort 
that is the modern day breakout 
room, was meaningful conver-
sation. Much more deeply, con-
versation that didn’t surround 
intended majors or future plans 
or hometowns, but rather, music. 
I found that people loved to talk 
about themselves, particularly 
the more nuanced parts. In a vir-
tual setting that has only exac-
erbated the need to satisfy every 
facet of the human condition 
and more inherently, the essen-
tial need to be perceived and 
understood, opening the floor 
to dialogue about something as 
intimate as the music one listens 
to, became the ultimate antidote 
to breakout room dysphoria. 

Perhaps the most gratifying vic-
tory of all besides completing our 
assigned class work, was coaxing 
a peer out of black-screen-name-
display-only-mic-off anonymity 
as they raved about the hidden 
genius of Kanye West, or 
even watching their thumbnail 
sized zoom box swell with sort 
of prideful acknowledgement as 
I furiously scribbled down the 
songs they told me I absolutely 
had to listen to. And I listened to 
every single one, some of which 
I’ve played on repeat until their 
novelty wore off into absolute 
sickening oblivion. 

More so, my short time at 

The Michigan Daily has been 
particularly gratifying. I am 
unaccustomed to being a part of 
something bigger than myself, 
and yet I find it pleasantly enjoy-
able. I appreciate the literary lib-
eration afforded to me here and 
for the very first time in a long 
time, I feel as if the words I write 
have been bestowed a special sort 
of weight. Regardless, not being 
physically present in the news-
room, or personally meeting my 

editors and fellow columnists 
presents a disorienting chal-
lenge. In particular, though my 
editors engage in the extremely 
inward and intimate process of 
reading my work, I’ve realized 
that I know next to nothing about 
them. With the emergence of a 
shared Michigan in Color playlist 
amongst the staff, I found it was 
more of an opportunity to learn 
about them all as human beings 
that lead very complex lives. I 
could glean bits and pieces of 
their temperaments and charac-
ters from the songs they chose 
to add, like how my editor Devak 
had the most varied and out of 
bounds music taste of all, or that 
while Maya had only contrib-
uted three songs, they were tear 
wrenching and mighty in their 
own right. And most important-
ly, the beautiful and delightful 
realization that my music taste 
was shared with some of the 
most eclectic and dynamic peo-
ple I had ever had the privilege of 
meeting. It should be noted that 
they have excellent music tastes 
by the way. 

We’re doing the most. Even 

in the midst of a deadly global 
pandemic and turbulent civil 
unrest, we are still doing the 
most … if not more than we 
were doing before any of this 
started. Our current reality 
is one characterized by Zoom 
fatigue, news and social media 
overload, financial stress and 
social isolation. Yet during 
these 
extremely 
exhausting 

times, almost none of us are 
getting the rest we truly need. 

This reluctance to rest isn’t 

new. “Grinding” aka this obses-
sion with working ourselves to 
death has been a characteris-
tic of American culture since 
its conception. At an academic 
level, we glorify not getting 
enough sleep at night, taking 
more credits than we can han-
dle, and putting way too many 
extracurricular commitments 
on our plate in order to stay 
“booked and busy.” 

If being busy is a flex, no 

wonder we all feel so weak. 
If we’re always “working to 
death,” when will we get a 
chance to enjoy our life? If 
we’re always “on the grind,” 
when do we get to get off?

The toxic effects of grind-

and-hustle culture are further 
exacerbated by racial injustice, 
especially in this time where 
conversations on race are in 
the spotlight. For Black stu-
dents, beyond the academic, 
occupational, extra-curricular 
duties we have, there’s often 
the expectation that we take 
place in a higher civic duty. 
Especially in these turbulent 
times Black students often 
feel pressured to overextend 
themselves, 
exerting 
extra 

emotional labor time advocat-
ing for social causes, speaking 

about their injustice, and doing 
“the work” on top of everything 
else. 

With all these exhausting 

endeavors, many Black activists 
are recognizing sleep depriva-
tion as a racial justice issue, 
and calling for a divestment in 
grind culture. In other words, 
we need to stop grinding. Black 
community activist and healer, 
Tricia Hersey talks often about 
how we’ve ingrained in our-
selves a machine-like sense of 
constantly working, much like 
robots as a result of a grind cul-
ture that very much literally 
treats humans as machines. In 
a Q&A with her and Black Lives 
Matter 
co-founder 
Patrisse 

Cullors, she details the ways 
in which capitalism and colo-
nization have influenced our 
rest, discusses the necessity for 
“rest as resistance,” and identi-
fies the relationship between 
rest and abolition.

In order for us to solve the 

problems of today, we have to 
be able to be the best versions 
of ourselves. We have to take 
the time to rest … to recover … 
to recoup … to relax. 

When we divest from grind 

culture, we also divest from 
the beck-and-call of consumer 
culture that drives us to place 
profit over people.

We 
divest 
from 
white 

supremacist culture that plots 
to over-work, over-extend and 
over-bear people of color rob-
bing them of their right to rest. 

We divest from the individ-

ualist, self-centered mindset 
that drives competition and 
capital gain and prohibits us 
from recognizing the humanity 
in others.

More importantly, we invest 

in a healthier version of our-
selves that is centered around 
joy, restoration and healing. 
Most importantly, we get the 
most out of doing the least. 

 CAMILLE MOORE

MiC “Off the Record” Blogger

Sharing music is the most 
sacred form of friendship

Stop grinding

Screenshot by the author

KARIS CLARK

MiC Columnist

 SARAH AKAABOUNE

MiC Columnist

Community solidarity over political idolization

Photo by Joel Muniz via Unsplash

The hidden world of South Asian sorority life

 SUBARNA BHATTACHARYA

MiC Columnist