2-News

I

t’s incredibly odd to be a freshman 
right now. Instead of having animated 
discussions 
sitting 
on 
lawns 
and 

benches around campus, we occasionally 
send necessary texts through GroupMes and 
Discords. Instead of exploring and getting 
used to a new campus, we navigate our 
university online. 

Newcomers don’t have a place, a community 

or an understanding of the University of 
Michigan in its regular workings. Instead, we 
traverse through the “Zoom-Zone.”

 It’s a term I picked up from Connor Greer, 

the phenomenal ENG 223 writing instructor. 
“Zoom-Zone” (or “ZOOM-ZONE,” as he says) 
refers to the virtually built environment in 
which most of our interactions exist. The 
“Zoom-Zone” has replaced the University’s 
physical environment, i.e. walking around 
from class to class, attending social gatherings 
or exploring campus. Now, we meet people 
and visit places on a screen, often from inside 
our childhood bedrooms. When our campus 
shut down last semester, students transitioned 
from in-person to virtual learning. Now, we 
know the University in a different form— for 
many freshmen, the only way we’ve ever 
known the University is through emails, 
online classes and group chats.

Zoom itself is a wondrous thing — two 

people (from opposite corners of the planet, if 
need be) can reach out through space and time 
and see each other’s faces. However, centering 
all of one’s social interactions in Zoom can 
feel exhausting. Many experience Zoom 
fatigue. Online interaction isn’t the same as 
in-person interaction — without nonverbal 
cues, it’s more challenging to focus. Speaking 
through the “Zoom-Zone” can feel like a 
performance and a puzzle simultaneously. 

One is trying to deduce the other person’s 
feelings while attempting to appear friendly 
and in control, without nonverbal social cues. 
Because attending Zoom calls can often 
feel like charades, first-year students might 
not be as eager to participate in classes and 
organizations online as they are in person. 
Thus, no one knows each other, except vaguely, 
in a digital context. There’s barely a sense of 
togetherness for the freshman class, apart 
from our sparingly active Facebook group. 

Additionally, the “Zoom-Zone” has a 

funny way of flattening power structures — 
sometimes, almost inverting them. While 
Zoom discussions can feel more democratic 
(which can be a good thing), they lead to some 
chaotic situations. Often, in class, students 
are technology-adept, while instructors can 
sometimes struggle. With multiple people 
speaking at once, it’s more challenging to keep 
a class in order. 

The chat feature in Zoom, especially, 

completely changes the dynamic of classes, 
where people can send a text without being 
seen or heard. In one of my courses last semester 
(a large, 180-person class), the chat was so active 
that it was turned off every class, especially 
when students had complaints about the 
course. Students are given much more power 
in online classes. While sometimes beneficial, 
it can be odd for freshmen, who can be unsure 
how to act in their classes and otherwise. 

Like many others, I find myself reminiscing 

about life before COVID-19. In November 2018, 
I went to my first ever Michigan football game. 
Surrounded by more people than I could ever 
imagine now, I laughed, whooped, yelled 
and chanted. Periodically, the crowd would 
get up and perform the fight song, ending 
with 100,000 voices yelling out “Go Blue!” in 

unison. Completely enamored, I couldn’t 
stop fantasizing about my future college 
experience at the University: Ideas of freedom, 
parties and football games swirled together 
in my mind. I couldn’t wait to know the fight 
song, back-to-front, and chant “Go Blue!” 

Now, the only time freshmen come across 

the phrase is when we see a halfhearted “Go 
Blue” at the end of an email offering COVID-
19 updates. It’s important to note why campus 
life is changed — the relentless spread of 
COVID-19, especially spurred by those who 
go about their lives as if there’s no virus. 
People who choose to party are prolonging the 
situation. They’re making everyone’s lives — 

including their own — much harder and more 
dangerous. 

The lack of response from the institution 

and the introduction of new COVID-19 
variants in Ann Arbor only exacerbates the 
problem. While people continue to disregard 
their communities, it seems unlikely that the 
pandemic will slow down anytime soon.

What’s 
confusing 
is 
the 
different 

predictions of when society will return to 
“normal.” Sources contrast each other, with 
some claiming the pandemic will be around 
for the next few years, while some are 
claiming the situation will be better by July. 
Will we ever leave this purgatory and find our 

place in the community? Will we ever mature 
past our high school selves? Will we ever 
get the so-called college experience? More 
importantly, will we and our communities 
make it through the pandemic?

It’s overwhelming. The idea of the typical 

college experience feels too good to be true — 
hopefully, we’ll get to see it for ourselves in the 
future. Currently, it all feels unclear. As the 
freshmen’s connection to the university feels 
weak, we float around, alone, untethered in 
the “Zoom-Zone,” unsure of what comes next. 

O

n a warm August afternoon in the 
Law Quadrangle, my boyfriend and 
I finally had the dreaded talk about 

our exes. Beaming with pride, he revealed 
that he was still friends with many of his exes, 
with some of them comprising his group of 
best friends. I suppressed an eye roll as I told 
him that I wasn’t in contact with most of mine, 
with a few even being blocked on social media. 
Eyebrows raised, he looked at me with the 
all-too-familiar smirk of superiority that 
I’ve become accustomed to receiving from 
those who take pride in staying friends 
with their exes.

My lack of contact with my exes isn’t 

necessarily due to bad relationships, messy 
breakups or even miscommunication. I simply 
believe that the period after a relationship ends 
is prime time for personal growth and that 
afterward, you shouldn’t be around somebody 

who reminds you of a past version of yourself. 

In addition, I think that more often than 

not, the decision to stay friends with an ex is 
precipitated by a desire to hold on to a person 
who was once a big part of your life. This is a 
completely natural impulse, but resisting it 
allows you to become the person you really 
want to be without being imprisoned by the 
shackles of your past.

I won’t stand on a soapbox and preach 

at you, though. Last year, after breaking up 
with my long-term high school boyfriend, I 
immediately launched myself into a series of 
flings and hookups, quickly finding myself 
entrapped in strange love triangles and 
awkward run-ins. A few weeks of backsliding 
with my ex eventually gave way to another 
period of no-contact, during which he blocked 
me on social media. Months later, I asked if we 
could be friends, but once we began talking 

again, I quickly realized that friendship with 
him was unnecessary for both of us — nothing 
more than a remnant of the past few years 
that was determined to linger forever if 
we allowed it.

Friendships with exes can also easily 

become toxic, be it for yourself, a new 
relationship or even mutual friends. Research 
suggests that friendships between exes 
generally have more negative aspects 
than other cross-sex platonic friendships. 
Additionally, exes are often used as emotional 
substitutions for a new partner when that 
new relationship takes a turn for the worse. 
Exes can cause feelings of jealousy and 
territorialism in a new partner, creating 
unnecessary tension and chaos in the early 
stages of a relationship. 

This is not to say that it’s impossible or even 

useless to be friends with an ex. My boyfriend 

has a successful, healthy friendship with one 
of his exes, where they are both assets to each 
other’s lives. That said, most other ventures 
at friendships with ex-significant others do 
not go as swimmingly, which can serve as a 
detriment to personal growth. Friendship 
with an ex isn’t inherently a sign of 
maturity and often can belie an inability to 
think critically about the people who are 
allowed in your life.

There is power in being able to know 

when to close a chapter of your life and 
move on without attachments. Studies 
show that adolescents who are able to 
reevaluate their friendships had stronger 
exploration, and therefore firmer identities 
compared to peers who didn’t frequently 
engage in this reassessment. 

Knowing when to leave someone behind 

gives you the power to decide which parts 

of yourself to leave behind with them.

I think about my exes still. Sometimes, 

when I see a funny Snapchat memory 
with my ex from senior year of high 
school or walk past their apartment 
complex on my way to class, I have the 
urge to text them just to let them know I 
was thinking about them. 

My exes have become a part of me in 

some way or another and I am grateful for 
the experiences I’ve had because of them, but 
there’s a reason that they’re memories. I’ve 
learned a lot from them, which allows me to 
cuddle up on the couch with my boyfriend 
this Valentine’s Day, watch “To All The 
Boys I’ve Loved Before 3” and revel in 
being in the present.

12 — Wednesday, February 17, 2021
Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

MRINALINI IYER | COLUMNIST

ILANA MERMELSTEIN | COLUMNIST

Meera Kumar can be reached at kmeera@

umich.edu. 

N

ot 
long 
ago, 
a 
2018 

Facebook post from U.S. 
Rep. 
Marjorie 
Taylor 

Greene, R-Ga., resurfaced. In it, she 
attributed the California wildfires to 
a space laser controlled by the Pacific 
Gas and Electric Company, which 
is owned by Rothschild Inc., and 
indicated that the land was burned 
in an elaborate scheme to construct 
a high-speed rail project. 

Her beliefs are unfortunately just 

another iteration of the “all-powerful 
Jews will do anything to make a buck” 
trope. Granted, it’s a pretty funny 
iteration. Many Jewish Twitter users 
posted about the theory, joking about 
the blatant anti-Semitism. After all, 
how could a secret Jewish space laser 
truly remain a secret with Jewish 
mothers everywhere wanting nothing 
more than to brag about their children?

We Jewish people tend to joke 

about 
widespread 
anti-Semitic 

conspiracy theories because, frankly, 
if we don’t laugh, we’ll cry. Greene’s 
theory is just one of many that draw 
on age-old stereotypes about Jewish 
people to villainize them. While quite 
laughable, it isn’t much crazier than 
the anti-Semitic beliefs of many other 
holders of public office. We shouldn’t 
be surprised by politicians’ rampant 
bigotry, but we should be fighting it.

Anti-Semitism has a long and dark 

history in the United States, primarily 
beginning in the late 19th century. 
Many Jews immigrated from Europe 
to the U.S. at the end of the 1800s 
and at the beginning of the 1900s, 
arriving in America as propertyless 
immigrants. However, they quickly 
adjusted and advanced professionally, 
angering many Americans who were 
less successful. 

At this point, the stereotype was 

born in America that Jews controlled 
all 
the 
money 
and 
exploited 

government systems for their own 
financial gain. Needless to say, this 
belief pervaded American society 
and it continues to rear its ugly head, 
even today.

Unfortunately, 
the 
American 

political system is not immune to 

the widespread anti-Semitism in 
the U.S. Government officials on 
both the right and left have targeted, 
and continue to target, Jewish 
people, using the money-controlling 
stereotype to redirect the blame for 
economic and governmental failures. 

Sen. 
Mitch 
McConnell, 

R-Ky., 
released 
a 
YouTube 

advertisement 
during 
his 

reelection campaign in which he 
claimed that the Democrats “have 
liberal billionaires like George 
Soros and Mike Bloomberg,” two 
individuals who happen to be 
Jewish. In doing so, he furthered 
the previously discussed trope 
that Jews control the money 
and use their financial power to 
control the government. Similarly, 
former Sen. David Perdue, R-Ga., 
published 
an 
advertisement 

featuring 
his 
Democratic 

opponent, Jewish Sen. Jon Ossoff, 
D-Ga., with an enlarged nose. In 
the video, Ossoff appeared with 
Sen. Chuck Schumer, D-N.Y., also 
Jewish, while a voiceover claimed 
that the Jews were planning to 
“buy Georgia.” 

Of course, one cannot discuss 

anti-Semitism in American politics 
without referencing QAnon, a 
conspiracy theory in which Rep. 
Taylor Greene is a believer. One 
element of the QAnon theory is the 
Great Replacement. 

Supposedly, Jewish people are 

organizing a mass migration of 
people of color into predominantly 
white 
countries 
to 
eliminate 

and 
replace 
primarily 
white 

populations. 
Ironically, 
Pew 

Research Center’s 2013 study 
found that 90% of American Jews 
identify as non-Hispanic white. 
While this finding does not speak 
to the racial identity of Jews 
around the world, it is interesting 
that a presumably largely white 
ethnic group would orchestrate the 
elimination of white populations. 
But hey, Jews have all the power, 
right? If they want it, they’ll find a 
way to make it happen.

At the end of the day, it’s all 

the same. Jewish people are 
scapegoated 
for 
the 
country’s 

troubles, the reasoning being that 
they control the money and thus 
the world. This same anti-Semitic 
trope appears over and over again 
in American politics, so why is 
anyone surprised by Rep. Taylor 
Greene’s outlandish space laser 
theory? What is it, if not a more 
creative way of saying the same 
thing similar politicians have been 
saying for years: Jewish people 
control the money, and they use 
their wealth to make anything they 
want to happen?

While 
conspiracy 
theories 

like this are humorous, they are 
indicative of a much bigger issue. 
Anti-Semitic attacks are on the rise 
in the U.S. Non-violent acts of anti-
Semitism are becoming acceptable 
in 
the 
American 
political 

system: 
anti-Semitic 
campaign 

advertisements, social media posts 
and conspiracy theories. We as 
American people are normalizing 
anti-Semitism, and as an American 
Jew, it’s scary.

Fortunately, there are things 

we can do to put an end to the 
rampant anti-Semitism in the U.S. 
When voting, we must focus not 
only on policy but on candidates’ 
character. Have they made bigoted 
posts on social media? Have 
they supported other bigoted 
candidates? These are questions 
we must ask before voting. We 
must also call out anti-Semitism 
when we see it and educate our 
peers on the dangers associated 
with anti-Semitism. 

Taylor 
Greene’s 
“Jewish 

space lasers” conspiracy theory 
is not itself the problem, but is 
rather a symptom of the bigger 
issue of anti-Semitism. We, as 
Americans, have allowed for its 
spread, but we, as Americans, 
can promote its end.

Floating through the Zoom-Zone

The reality of the ‘Jewish space lasers’

We can still be friends, but should we?

Design by Melissa Lee

Ilana Mermelstein can be reached 

at imerm@umich.edu.

Mrinalini Iyer can be reached at 

iyermili@umich.edu.

EVAN STERN | COLUMNIST
Biden’s executive orders break his promise 

of unity in first weeks of presidency

T

ime and again on the 
campaign trail, President 
Joe 
Biden 
pledged 
to 

Americans that despite running as a 
“proud Democrat,” he would “govern 
as an American president.” In a 
time where political divisiveness 
has reached unprecedented levels, 
millions of Americans who voted for 
Biden entrusted him with healing 
our wounded nation.

But after only a few days in the 

Oval Office, Biden seemed to put his 
plans for unity on the back burner by 
issuing executive orders at a record 
pace. Before the end of January alone 
— in the first two weeks of his term — 
Biden signed a startling 25 executive 
orders. 
By 
comparison, 
former 

President Donald Trump signed only 
seven orders in the same time frame 
during his first term; former President 
Barack Obama signed only nine.

Allies of the Biden administration 

rushed to defend the 46th president, 
noting the orders have fulfilled 
a myriad of Democratic policy 
priorities, 
including 
action 
on 

the 
environment, 
immigration 

and 
health 
care. 
Nevertheless, 

Biden’s executive actions stand in 
stark contrast to his own words 
throughout a hard-fought campaign 
that seemed to signal he would work 
across the aisle with legislators, not 
unilaterally with just the stroke of a 
pen. At an ABC News town hall event 
in October, Biden said that instead of 
issuing executive orders, “I’ve gotta 
get the votes (in Congress). We are a 
democracy. We need consensus.” 

He also stated some specific 

policy proposals can’t be passed 
“by executive order unless you’re a 
dictator,” such as raising taxes on 
corporations and wealthy people. 

To be fair, that town hall 

appearance has been misconstrued 
by some — namely, conservatives 
who 
have 
accused 
Biden 
of 

neglecting his own unity claims. But 
at the end of the day, Biden’s flurry of 

executive orders clearly contradicts 
his promise to see not “blue or red 
states but United States.” Even the 
New York Times Editorial Board 
sounded the alarm.

From the moment Biden entered 

the White House, I hoped he would 
immediately begin reaching across 
the aisle to solve some of the most 
pressing issues facing our nation. 
But the incoming president has 
wasted a precious opportunity to 
begin the process of healing our 
nation so desperately needs. The 
current occupant of the White 
House is undoubtedly a welcome 
departure from the divisive Trump 
administration, but he needs to do 
more to bring together our fractured 
country.

Take his executive actions on the 

environment, for instance. On the 
first day of his administration, Biden 
wasted no time canceling the permit 
for the controversial Keystone XL 
pipeline. If completed, the pipeline 
would have transported oil from 
Canada to the Gulf of Mexico. This 
project increases our reliance on 
fossil fuels for energy and has been 
attacked by environmentalists for 
years. However, simply eliminating 
the 
Keystone 
pipeline 
without 

working with state or federal 
lawmakers disregards the system of 
government our founders outlined 
more than 200 years ago, which calls 
for checks and balances.

While canceling the permit for 

the Keystone pipeline has removed 
an environmental hazard and the 
encroachment on the indigenous 
communities that inhabit the area, it 
is detrimental to the local economy 
surrounding the proposed pipeline 
and the thousands of people who 
depended on the project to put 
food on the table. Shutting down 
the pipeline isn’t necessarily a bad 
move, but Biden should have worked 
with elected representatives before 
eliminating it on his own.

In the end, what distinguishes 

the U.S. from countries around the 
globe is that no one figure holds too 
much power. After the American 
Revolution, our founders put forth 
the Constitution in order to give equal 
influence to the legislative, executive 
and judicial branches. There’s no 
problem with executive actions for 
small matters, but Biden’s executive 
orders are equivalent to legislating 
from the White House, which is not 
what Americans elected the current 
president to do. At the same time, 
allowing a president to unilaterally 
implement sweeping policy changes 
sets a dangerous precedent for future 
administrations.

From 
the 
moment 
Biden 

secured 
the 
presidency 
in 

November, there was renewed 
hope across America that our 
country could finally turn the page 
on this bitter and divisive time. 
This only became more urgent 
after the attempted insurrection 
on the U.S. Capitol building last 
month. But the prospects of this 
actually happening have grown 
smaller in light of Biden’s far-
reaching executive actions. 

As the president of the United 

States, Biden must resort to 
executive orders sparingly and 
only when that type of action 
is warranted. It’s clear that 
with a narrowly-split House of 
Representatives and an even closer 
Senate, Biden’s policy proposals 
will encounter more resistance in 
Congress. But the 46th president 
took an oath to defend our 
Constitution — and promised 
millions of Americans he would be 
the unifier we all need. That starts 
with putting his pen down and 
working with the legislature, the 
body our founders actually tasked 
with creating the laws.

Evan Stern can be reached at 

erstern@umich.edu.

MEERA KUMAR | COLUMNIST

