100%

Scanned image of the page. Keyboard directions: use + to zoom in, - to zoom out, arrow keys to pan inside the viewer.

Page Options

Download this Issue

Share

Something wrong?

Something wrong with this page? Report problem.

Rights / Permissions

This collection, digitized in collaboration with the Michigan Daily and the Board for Student Publications, contains materials that are protected by copyright law. Access to these materials is provided for non-profit educational and research purposes. If you use an item from this collection, it is your responsibility to consider the work's copyright status and obtain any required permission.

January 27, 2021 - Image 9

Resource type:
Text
Publication:
The Michigan Daily

Disclaimer: Computer generated plain text may have errors. Read more about this.

7-Opinion

Opinion
Wednesday, January 27, 2021 — 9
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

ANYA SINGH | CONTACT CARTOONIST AT ANYAS@UMICH.EDU

MRINALINI IYER | COLUMNIST

Patriotism is overrated

D

uring a three-hour drive
through
the
disastrous

Bombay
highways,

my mom relayed the story of her
citizenship ceremony. My parents
became American citizens in 2005,
but it came at a cost: They had to
renounce their Indian citizenship. As
“The Star-Spangled Banner” played
in the courthouse, my mom grew
misty-eyed as an integral aspect of
her identity was replaced by that of
a post-9/11 country where she felt
uncomfortable wearing her cultural
clothing in public. My sister and I
exchanged glances of confusion as my
mom continued by explaining that the
Indian national anthem brought on a
wave of patriotism in her, even today.
Neither of us could imagine feeling
so tied to our home country, nor
the feeling of loss when unclasping
yourself from your roots.

I primarily think of myself as

American. I was born less than
20 minutes from the University of
Michigan campus and spent my
childhood in small towns across
Michigan. This is my home, and it
always will be.

Nevertheless, the feeling of

intense patriotism that my mom
feels for the place she was born
has never resonated with me. At
football games, I stand up out
of respect for others and fear of
retribution, not necessarily for the
flag or because I feel the loyalty that
sweeps the crowds. This country
was not made for or by myself or
my ancestors.

It’s possible that this lack of

patriotism is generational. Only
32% of millennials believe that the
United States is the greatest country
in the world — a 16% drop from
Generation X. Thus, it stands to
reason that Generation Z would be
even less patriotic than every previous
generation. However, in America,
Gen Z’s lack of patriotism may be
due to its greater racial and ethnic
diversity, as well as the higher number
of immigrant families.

Or, perhaps the growing criticism

of the U.S.’s policies and institutions
has contributed to a decreased sense of
national pride. Nevertheless, it seems
counterproductive to assimilation that
a first-generation American like myself
would feel such a deep disconnect with
this increasingly diverse, melting pot of
the world.

Many would consider a lack of

patriotism to be a fault of myself, my
parents or even my education. Patriots
are seen as the backbone of the
country, the lifeblood of government
and the basis for national pride.
Naturally, patriotic sentiment has
long been intertwined with wanting
a country to succeed. Since the Cold
War, patriotism has been considered
necessary to be a true American. It
was a tool to distinguish between
those who belong in America and
those who were threats.

However, this crude, outdated idea

of patriotism fails to recognize that it
is no longer a dichotomy, but rather a
spectrum of ideas about how people
interact with their country and with

their fellow citizens. Patriotism no
longer has any bearing on who does
or doesn’t belong in America and
shouldn’t be used as any measure of
worth for an American.

Over the past few years, members

of my generation have had their eyes
opened to the misdeeds of the U.S. It
has become increasingly apparent
that the financial freedom and
“family values” for which America
was once revered by its people were
actually tools of oppression, designed
to only uplift certain groups of people
— namely wealthy white people.

As people have come to these

realizations, there have been calls
for change across the country. But
political parties on both sides of the
aisle have co-opted patriotism as the
way to restore unity to the country,
which has only led to increased
polarization as Republicans and
Democrats alike believe that their
definition of patriotism is the correct
one. This tool of division is only
doing what it was intended to do, and
intense feelings of patriotism have not
helped in restoring any sense of unity.

Without
this
overwhelming

allegiance clouding our collective
vision, we would be able to look at
this country through a more objective
lens. Our love for this nation would
be defined only by virtue of this
being our home, the place where
we have chosen to build our lives
and not by some sense of American
exceptionalism. Criticism of U.S.
institutions and policies would be
more poignant, and sensible foreign
ideals might be able to permeate our
unnecessarily thick skin.

As a first-generation American, I

am somewhere in the middle of the
vast spectrum of patriotism. I see this
country for what it is, but moreover,
for what it can be. My parents came
to this country for a better life, for
education and for the promise of a
bright future.

And as an American, I am deeply

invested in helping this country
reach its full potential, regardless
of my apparent lack of patriotic
sentiment. I would not die for this
country as it is now; I probably
wouldn’t even mildly inconvenience
myself for it.

But I would die to make it better.

Mrinalini Iyer can be reached at

iyermili@umich.edu.

LYDIA STORELLA | COLUMNIST

Democrats should avoid sweeping

progressive policy changes

W

ith
the
victories

of
Democratic

candidates
Jon

Ossoff and Raphael Warnock
in the Georgia Senate runoff
elections on Jan. 5, the Senate
majority now belongs to the
Democrats. Since the Democrats
already
control
the
House

of
Representatives
and
the

presidency, the Democrats now
have a unified government for
the first time since 2011.

Naturally,
Democrats
are

excited about this prospect —
especially having a Senate with
a Democratic majority, which
makes legislating far easier.
They can bring bills to the Senate
floor that otherwise wouldn’t
have received a vote now that
Sen. Mitch McConnell, R-Ky., is
no longer the Senate Majority
Leader, and they also should have
the votes to pass such legislation.

However,
it’s
easy
for

Democrats to dream of the
policy that could be rather
than the policy that should be.
This election was a rejection of
Donald Trump, not a rejection of
conservatism or the traditional
values of the Republican Party.
By no means was it a vote for
sweeping progressive policies.

Although
the
Democrats

maintained their majority in the
House of Representatives, they
lost seats, making this majority
much slimmer than in the last
session of Congress. The fact
that Republicans gained seats in
the House but lost the presidency
is important because the House
is the body that more closely
represents individual voters.

Voters have not abandoned

conservatism or the Republican
Party;
they
abandoned

Trumpism. Individualism, limited
government and republicanism
are still valued by many American
voters,
especially
those
who

split their ticket, voting for Joe
Biden for president and for the
Republican candidate for their
congressional representative.

Similarly, in the Senate, the

Democrats lost seats that they
were expected to win, including
seats occupied by Sen. Susan
Collins, R-Maine, and Sen. Thom
Tillis, R-N.C., who both won their
reelection campaigns. While the
Democrats did successfully flip
four seats, gaining a net three
seats in the Senate, all of the
flipped seats came from senators
who were closely aligned with
Trump: Martha McSally, Cory
Gardner, Kelly Loeffler and
David
Perdue
all
embraced

Trump
in
their
campaigns,

and all lost to their Democratic
challengers. In the Senate, ties
to Trump in moderate or even
center-right
states
doomed

campaigns.

The Senate, like the House,

also has a small margin of
dominance,
the
smallest

possible: a 50-50 split with
Vice President Kamala Harris
as the tiebreaker. Should the
Republicans vote unanimously, a
single “no” from the Democratic
side would result in a “no” vote
for that bill in the Senate. Sen.
Joe
Manchin
III,
D-W.Va.,

would likely vote against any
progressive legislation, as he
comes from a deep red state and
has voted with Republicans on
consequential matters before.

Progressive
legislation

would harm House Democrats
who represent swing districts.
Because House representatives
are up for election every two
years, they face an electorate that
remembers their specific votes,
especially votes on controversial
bills and issues.

If
Democrats
embrace

far-left policies now, it will
be at their peril come 2022.
Representatives from moderate
districts will almost certainly
face strong challenges from more
conservative, that is, Republican,
candidates. Additionally, party
members don’t always vote with
their party — already this year,
five Democrats voted against

reelecting
U.S.
Rep.
Nancy

Pelosi, D-Calif., as Speaker of the
House.

This is not to say that

Democratic control of Congress
isn’t a major win for the party.
With McConnell out as Senate
Majority Leader, the Democrats
will be able to bring legislation to
the floor for a vote that a Senate
with McConnell would never
have brought up.

The most relevant example

of this is the stimulus package,
as McConnell refused to allow
the Senate to vote on the
Caring for Americans with
Supplemental
Help
Act
to

give a $2,000 stimulus check
to Americans, even though
the bill was passed by the
House. With a Democrat as
the Majority Leader, the CASH
Act will receive a vote in the
Senate and will likely pass.
Other actions a Democratic-
controlled Senate can take are
appointing liberal judges to
the courts, passing legislation
to fight climate change and
furthering former President
Barack Obama’s health care
law.

The elections of Ossoff and

Warnock are, without question,
excellent for the Democrats. A
Democrat-controlled
House,

Senate and presidency allow
Biden to set the policy agenda
and allow Congress to execute it.
But just because the Democrats
have the power to execute
sweeping legislative change does
not mean they should use it.

Progressives
in
Congress

will likely endorse major policy
proposals such as Medicare
for All and a Green New Deal,
but these policies cannot be
considered if Democrats want
to maintain their congressional
majorities in 2022 and keep a
Democrat in the White House
in 2024.

Design by Yassmine El-Rewini

Lydia Storella can be reached at

storella@umich.edu.

BRITTANY BOWMAN

Managing Editor

Stanford Lipsey Student Publications Building

420 Maynard St.

Ann Arbor, MI 48109

tothedaily@michigandaily.com

CLAIRE HAO

Editor in Chief

ELIZABETH COOK
AND JOEL WEINER

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.

Ray Ajemian

Zack Blumberg

Brittany Bowman
Emily Considine
Elizabeth Cook

Jess D’Agostino
Jenny Gurung
Cheryn Hong
Krystal Hur
Min Soo Kim

Zoe Phillips
Mary Rolfes

Gabrijela Skoko

Joel Weiner
Erin White

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

JULIA MALONEY | COLUMNIST

How a pair of sneakers represents American identity

B

eing
the
first
to
do

something is a feat; it makes
the accomplishment that

much greater. For Vice President
Kamala Harris, being a “first” can be
considered one of her specialties.

She is the first South Asian

American senator in U.S. history, the
first African American and South
Asian American vice president in
U.S. history and the first female vice
president in U.S. history. Another
topic in the recent discourse,
however, is that she is the first
politician to wear Chuck Taylors in
the West Wing, boldly reinvigorating
traditional political dress.

To Harris, a sense of purpose

and the means to accomplish it is
epitomized by her Converse All Stars.
In October 2020, Harris famously
showcased her embellished white
high-tops with badges pinned to the
sides of her trainers. The messages
included “Black Joy,” “Stop Hate”
and “Love 2020,” nodding to the
feelings of those in attendance to
her Florida rally and the millions
back home suffering from the loss
of American lives as a result of the
COVID-19 pandemic, as well as acts
of racial injustice.

Throughout
her
grueling

campaign, Harris stood wearing
her self-titled “power pearls” and
sneakers, confident that her political
initiatives would soon take full stride.
Yet the critics fixating on her clothing
choices rather than policy proposals,
assailing her style as distracting and
trivial, make her Chuck Taylors all
the more meaningful. Talking about
her shoe choice is neither sexist nor
distracting; it is instead a recognition
of the sexism and judgment she
pledges to overcome.

Female politicians’ wardrobes have

been a frequent topic of discussion
and scrutiny, and are one thing that
their male counterparts usually avoid
press coverage about. While First
Lady Jackie Kennedy was idolized
for her iconic hats and colored sets,
Michelle
Obama
was
criticized

for her inexpensive gowns and
exposed arms. Whether praising or
condemning, there is an inescapable
gaze and assessment of women in
politics’ physical appearance.

Glass ceilings and the chains of

fashion expectations are there for
us to smash. Small acts of rebellion
recognized by our nation’s biggest
figures turn the initial fracture

into a successful breakage of these
confinements. Harris’s shoes do
matter, and what they represent
is why she was elected as another
“first.”

They are not the traditional high

heels common of a politician. They
are not meant for presentation or
special occasions. They are a new
symbol. They are meant for action,
productivity and doing. Although
a pair of sneakers does not seem
revolutionary at first glance, they are.

The beauty of Chuck Taylors is

that they evoke an authentic feel
because they’re affordable sneakers
etched in American history: a canvas
sole with a rubber base, worn from
the early 20th century until the
modern-day.
Converse
sneakers

were even exempt from the rubber
rationing during World War II, as the
American people viewed the iconic
shoes as a central component to the
American identity and protested
against the ration. The growing
influence of television and celebrity
endorsements beginning in the
1950s was responsible for creating
new sneaker archetypes: the athlete,
the celebrity and the rebel without a
cause.

Despite the famed sneaker’s shift in

audience, its origin remains rooted in
youth culture that has now moved to
the mainstream. When speaking in an
interview, Harris notes that “Chucks
— whatever your background is,
whatever language your grandmother
spoke — you know, we all at some point
or another had our Chucks.” Shedding
light on American culture, Kamala
Harris’s feet are firmly planted in our
nation’s history.

I myself own a pair of high-top

Chuck Taylors and wear them
frequently on campus. Prior to
this year, I had not been aware of
their history, nor that the shoes I
had bought as a fashion statement
would now be looked at as a part
of a political revolution. Their
significance is not limited to Election

Day but instead applies to anyone

seeking to be a “first” in their school,
community or country.

Adam Cohn, vice president of

global brand design for Converse,
shares, “The star chevron has
been in use since the ’70s and we
wanted to make it a major part of
our identity — that part of the brief
was clear: Let’s leverage an icon
that’s part of our heritage that’s

also representative of moving
forward.”

Moving forward is representative

of all genders, races, beliefs and
orientations,
of
which
Kamala

Harris is the exemplar. It is time to
lace up.

Julia Maloney can be reached at

jvmalo@umich.edu.

Design by Beatrice Miller

Back to Top

© 2024 Regents of the University of Michigan