7-Opinion
Opinion
Wednesday, February 3, 2021 — 9
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
JESSIE MITCHELL | COLUMNIST
Michigan Law’s administration offers little
compassion in a pandemic
I
t’s safe to say that the fall
2020 semester was tough
for
many
undergraduate
students, but for many University
of Michigan Law students, it was
downright hellish. In addition
to eliminating Fall Break, the
Law School also added weekend
classes for the fall semester.
Unlike the rest of the University,
which held classes online after
Thanksgiving break, the law
school condensed its schedule
by holding its last class the
Wednesday before Thanksgiving.
The compressed schedule —
as explained in a Jul. 1 email
from the associate dean for
academic
programming,
Gil
Seinfeld, to the Law School
community — was made in
response to moving the school’s
Early Interview Week. EIW
typically occurs in the summer
and is when many second-year
law
students
interview
for
summer associateships at law
firms. Due to the pandemic,
EIW was pushed to January
2021. Compressing the Fall 2020
schedule was meant to allow
grades to come out before the
interviewing process.
Seinfeld
acknowledged
that the new schedule would
be
challenging.
“All
things
considered however, this seems
the best way to balance the
competing needs of our student
body,” he wrote.
Third-year
Law
School
student Julia Adams disagreed.
She argued that the school year
could have started a week earlier
— an approach adopted by the
University of North Carolina at
Chapel Hill and North Carolina
State. Or professors could have
been asked to grade a little bit
faster this year. The school
should have “put the onus on the
people being paid,” Adams said,
instead of putting students on
the “chopping block.” Certainly,
organizing a brutal schedule in
an already brutal year seems,
well, brutal.
The organization of the term
around EIW also showed Adams,
a public interest law student who
will not be joining a corporate
law firm, that the administration
did not care about “non-firm”
students.
The
interviewing
process for public interest jobs
is less regulated — Adams had
eleven interviews in one week.
Third-year Law School student
Sean Brennan was incensed by
the “lack of clear pathways for
student input” before the fall
term schedule was announced.
A student-produced survey,
garnering nearly 300 responses
and representing a wide swath
of the Law School student body,
found 89% of students agreed
with
the
statement,
“I
am
worried about my mental health.”
In addition, 90% agreed that “the
law school has not done enough to
support students this semester.”
Perhaps the Law School could
have eliminated some of the
student distress by allowing
students facing greater personal
or
mental
health
challenges
than normal to take a leave of
absence. Alas, third-year Law
School student Everett Secor
tried to do just that and felt led
to believe by Lindsey Stetson,
the associate dean for student
life, that he may risk losing not
only his scholarship, but also his
enrollment.
To Secor, it seemed that short
of a hospitalization, the school
would not allow him to take leave.
To him, that decision underscored
the school’s commitment to their
bottom line over student well-
being. Stetson wrote in an email
to The Daily that the decision to
take leave is “highly personal”
and that “we help students to
assess their options and make the
decision that is right for them.”
The school’s leave of absence
policy is vague, but does not
outline any circumstances in
which a leave would be denied
or students would be forced to
reapply after a one-year leave
period. The policy explicitly
states
that
students
must
complete their degree within
five years — the typical timeline
is three years, thus allowing
plenty of time for a leave.
Simultaneously
infantilizing
students by removing their ability
to make decisions based on their
own
personal
circumstances
whilst expecting them to endure
an even more arduous semester
than usual in the midst of a global
pandemic is cruel.
Law school is taxing on student
mental health in the best of times
— its singular embedded CAPS
counselor is not enough. Even
after a Law School student died
by suicide in 2019, there was
no meaningful action taken to
address mental health within the
Law School student body. To both
Adams and Brennan, repeated
suggestions from the school about
yoga and CAPS felt insulting in
the face of more structural issues
facing students.
After much student advocacy
in October 2020, the Law School
did make some small changes.
Students were given the option to
change one grade of a C or higher
in both the fall 2020 and winter
2021 term to a “P.” The exam
period was also extended, pushed
from ending on Dec. 11 to Dec.
14, with professors encouraged
to allow students to take their
exams at any time within that
period.
However, Brennan pointed out
that the changes only came about
after intense student advocacy
that seemed to him at times like
“trauma porn,” where students
felt they had to go into detail about
their personal mental health or
difficult family circumstances.
The Law School could have
mitigated a lot of the severe
distress felt by students this past
semester by simply listening.
Input should have been widely
solicited when redesigning the
fall term schedule. Students who
recognized that that law school
would not be their top priority in
the middle of a pandemic should
have been supported in taking a
leave of absence.
In many ways, the refusal to
listen parallels so many of the
University’s mistakes in the past
year. How much illness could
have been avoided, for example,
if the administration had listened
to their own graduate students
when they went on strike? How
many women would have been
spared if the University took
sexual misconduct allegations
seriously?
When administrators fail to
listen to students, it is almost
always the students that get
hurt. Perhaps that is why they
never learn.
I
thought living in a sorority
house was going to be exactly
like the opening scene of
“Legally Blonde”: girls braiding each
other’s hair, sleepovers in the living
room and everyone helping a girl get
ready for a date. Obviously, because
of the pandemic we are currently
living through, things look a little
different in my house.
Masks are worn everywhere,
there are limits to when we can use
certain rooms and people tend to
keep their distance. Sometimes I do
miss playing pong in a basement that
has some strange liquid dripping
down the walls and making friends
with people in bathrooms lacking
toilet paper just as much as the next
girl. The pandemic has robbed all of
us of experiences that can never be
replaced, and the impulse to go out
and party is often very strong. But
I have a very good reason to resist
these impulses: I’m from Ann Arbor.
I was born and raised in this
quaint little town. I know it for
warm summers on the Huron
River and weekends spent at the
Hands-On Museum. I learned to
drive downtown, navigating the
perpetual construction and taking
back alleys and detours that led
nowhere. And yes, Ann Arbor is
primarily known for the University
of Michigan, but it has always been
so much more.
It’s a town where people are
unreasonably friendly, where nights
at Top of the Park are practically a
high school reunion, where liberal
soccer moms can always find a
gluten-free option, where there is a
tangible pride in the air on late July
nights.
Sorority rush this past weekend
has shown me that this pride truly
radiates throughout campus. These
freshmen, who have had the most
abnormal Michigan experience, still
talk of their pride in their school.
This isn’t because of the University.
With
no
in-person
classes,
a
shortened dorm experience and no
game days to revel in our renowned
school spirit, this pride in our school
must come from somewhere else:
the city itself.
Ann Arbor natives are proud of
this school and of their town, and it
shows. Over four-fifths of Michigan
football’s season ticket holders are
non-students, coming to campus
each gameday and flooding the
Big House. School spirit radiates
through campus and is echoed
throughout the streets of this small
town. Even now, my neighbors
gather on their patio every football
Saturday to tailgate and watch the
game as a community.
However,
students
at
the
University
have
been
harming
the Ann Arbor community this
year. Underground frat parties,
ill-conceived
social
gatherings
and oh-so-elusive Tinder hookups
have contributed to the rapidly
increasing number of COVID-19
cases in Washtenaw County. The
University’s cases represented 60%
of the county’s cases in mid-October,
despite representing less than 15%
of the county’s population. The
Starbucks baristas and bus drivers
that once smiled at our maize-
colored sweatshirts now roll their
eyes, wishing we weren’t around.
College students, you owe it to
Ann Arbor to be better. This town,
no matter how long you’ve been here,
has given you a place to call home.
The rent may be sky high and South
U may never be truly open again, but
Ann Arbor has given you friends,
pizza and far too many bubble tea
places for any one person to try. It is
a community of people passionate
about changing the world in their
own unique ways, which is what
drew so many students here in the
first place. It used to be our secret
pride.
Now, it’s honestly embarrassing
to tell family and friends about my
school. My stories are now met only
with worried glances and timid
questions of safety. I am ashamed of
the “Leaders and the Best” who want
so badly to get wasted on a Friday
night that they can’t help but do so and
risk other people’s lives. These are
the lives of my community members.
This is my home. Ann Arborites
have poured their unwavering love
and support into the University for
almost two centuries. The least we
can do is return the favor.
Thus, I end my letter with a simple
plea. Next Friday, when the Law
Quad crows are beginning their
nightly journey toward the medical
campus, put on your cutest outfit and
FaceTime your best friend. Watch
“Twilight” or “The Kissing Booth”
or any other absurdly bad teen movie
and invent your own drinking game.
While this may not compare to the
fun of pong on a porch, it might ensure
that one more grandparent can join
their family at the stadium next year.
MRINALINI IYER | COLUMNIST
What we owe to each other: an open letter to partiers
Design by Maggie Wiebe
Mrinalini Iyer can be reached at
iyermili@umich.edu.
Jessie Mitchell can be reached at
jessiemi@umich.edu.
A
t least 14 cases of the new
U.K. variant of COVID-19, or
the B.1.1.7 variant, have been
identified in Washtenaw County and
tied to the University of Michigan
campus. While there is conflicting
evidence on the mortality rate of this
new strain, we know definitively that
the B.1.1.7 variant is more contagious.
This means that even if the new
variant has the same mortality rate
as the original COVID-19 virus,
more people will die, simply because
it spreads faster. Because of this, the
B.1.1.7 variant being present at the
University poses a major threat to
the Ann Arbor community. It is vital
that we see the reality and gravity of
the COVID-19 pandemic and remain
hypervigilant to protect ourselves
and those around us.
The B.1.1.7 variant of the COVID-19
virus was first identified in the U.K. in
December 2020 and quickly became
the primary variant of the virus present
in England. Since then, multiple cases
have been discovered in Washtenaw
County. The Washtenaw County
Health Department encouraged those
who visited either the Meijer on Ann
Arbor-Saline Road between 9 a.m. and
10 a.m. or Briarwood Mall between
1 p.m. and 2 p.m. on Jan. 17 to get
tested for COVID-19 due to possible
exposure.
Most recently, the University
paused athletics as a result of multiple
student-athletes testing positive for
the B.1.1.7 variant. Already, we have
seen the impa scts of the higher level of
contagion found in this version of the
virus, and this is only the beginning.
Even more concerning, the Food
and Drug Administration indicates
that the B.1.1.7 variant can trigger
false negatives in test results more
frequently than the original virus,
so, while getting tested frequently is
important, test results cannot be used
to excuse unsafe behavior.
This variant demands more from
us in terms of safety precautions than
the original version of the COVID-
19 virus. Greater precautions are
necessary now, with the B.1.1.7 variant
present on campus, but it is no secret
that greater precautions have also
been necessary at the University since
the beginning of the fall term. The
University’s response to the COVID-
19 pandemic was notoriously lacking
last semester, prompting pushback
from
the
Graduate
Employees’
Organization, many students and
members of the greater Ann Arbor
community.
In announcing the fall 2020 plan,
Michigan’s administration promised
symptom screening and testing.
While symptom screening was
available in the form of ResponsiBlue,
an app that asked users if they had
any symptoms, students were rarely
required to present the screen
indicating they had completed the
survey when they entered campus
buildings, rendering the program
mostly ineffective. Though available
at the University, testing was offered
mainly to symptomatic individuals
and those who had been contact-
traced, leaving the asymptomatic
population high and dry.
They
only
allowed
all
asymptomatic individuals to get
tested before returning home for
Thanksgiving.
The
University
introduced the voluntary Community
Sampling and Tracking Program at
the beginning of September 2020
to allow for more asymptomatic
testing, but only a limited number of
participants were chosen to be tested
each week, and not all who registered
were guaranteed to be tested at any
point in the semester.
The underwhelming response to
the COVID-19 pandemic was tied
to multiple outbreaks in residence
halls, and the University accordingly
canceled
most
undergraduate
students’
housing
contracts
for
the winter semester. It seems as
though the negative feedback about
the University’s proceedings last
term was finally received, as the
precautions in place this semester
are much more appropriate given the
state of the pandemic.
The University now requires
students living in residence halls,
working at the University or using
campus facilities to be tested weekly,
and the revamped Community
Testing and Sampling Program
also provides students with the
opportunity to be tested more
frequently if they choose to do so.
Residence halls are now operating at
reduced capacity, with all students
living in single rooms. However, the
University can only do so much.
Many students living off-campus
disregarded
the
pandemic
last
semester,
continuing
to
attend
large gatherings and interact with
people outside their homes, many
times without masks. As of now,
it seems that this behavior has not
changed. With Fraternity & Sorority
Life organizations recruiting and
initiating new members, students
have been seen in large groups,
unmasked, at various off-campus
houses. Though the University has
responded to the increased threat of
the new variant with more rigorous
precautions,
the
student
body
seemingly has not, giving rise to
greater concern.
It was always important for us to
take COVID-19 seriously, but now
more than ever, we need to buckle
down and do the right thing. With
the new variant being present in our
community and being significantly
more transmissible as the original
COVID-19 virus strain, we must
finally wake up to the reality of this
pandemic and act accordingly.
ILANA MERMELSTEIN | COLUMNIST
Ilana Mermelstein can be reached
at imerm@umich.edu.
Read more at
MichiganDaily.com
Alex Cohen/Daily
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.
Zack Blumberg
Brittany Bowman
Emily Considine
Elizabeth Cook
Jess D’Agostino
Jack Grieve
Krystal Hur
Min Soo Kim
Zoe Phillips
Mary Rolfes
Gabrijela Skoko
Joel Weiner
Erin White
EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS
The B.1.1.7 variant is no joke