I

n December 2020, the COVID-19 
vaccine was first administered in 
the United States and people finally 

began to feel a sense of hope. Now that it 
is being provided more widely, people are 
beginning to wonder if a national COVID-
19 vaccine mandate is in store. If this were 
to become a reality, though, the majority of 
states may allow for religious exemptions 
from the vaccine, potentially threatening 
the widespread immunization necessary to 
put an end to this pandemic thus keeping 
many people at risk. In the case of a national 
COVID-19 
vaccine 
mandate, 
religious 

exemptions must not be tolerated, as the 
vast majority have no basis in scripture, and 
the health of the country must be prioritized 
above the unjustified beliefs of a few.

As evidenced by a 2013 study, most major 

world religions have no explicit scripture or 
laws implying any opposition to vaccinations, 
the major religions being Christianity, 
Islam, Judaism, Buddhism, Hinduism and 
Jainism. These religions along with atheism, 
agnosticism and a lack of religious affiliation, 

cover nearly 99% of the U.S. population, 
so it makes little sense that any religious 
exemptions to vaccines could be sustained 
when the health of the country is at stake. 
Furthermore, both the Catholic Church and 
world Islamic leaders have openly endorsed 
the administration of vaccines, noting the 
health of many is a higher priority than the 
beliefs of few. But, in a perceived disagreement 
between religion and scientific teachings, the 
distribution of support is concerning. About 
55% of those with religious affiliations would 
agree with their religious teachings over 
science — only 29% would agree with science 
instead. The fact that so many are willing to 
hold their beliefs above scientific evidence is, 
frankly, pretty scary.

If objections to vaccines on religious 

grounds are not generally rooted in 
religious scripture or promoted by 
leaders, where do they come from? Most 
are largely related to either the ethical 
dilemma of receiving vaccines made from 
human cell tissue or the belief that the 
body is sacred, should not absorb certain 

chemicals and should be healed by G-d or 
natural means. 

As far as the first objection goes, it 

primarily applies to vaccines that use the 
HEK-293 and HeLa cell lines. The former 
comes from the tissue of a fetus electively 
aborted in 1973, and the latter comes from 
the cervical tissue of Henrietta Lacks, a 
Black woman who was diagnosed with 
cervical cancer in the mid-twentieth 
century. Both cases create ethical dilemmas 
— vaccines using the HEK-293 cell line 
may be objectionable to those religiously 
opposed to abortion, and vaccines using 
the HeLa cell line are morally questionable 
because Henrietta Lacks’s tissue was taken 
and developed nonconsensually. 

However, these ethical concerns do not 

apply to the primary COVID-19 vaccines 
in circulation. The Pfizer and Moderna 
vaccines are both developed with chemical, 
not biological, synthesis so they do not 
contain any human cell tissue. While the 
moral concerns regarding the HEK-293 
and HeLa cell raise compelling points that 

should be explored and developed, they do 
not pertain to the COVID-19 vaccine, which 
must be administered widely and urgently.

As far as the objection relating to the 

sanctity of the human body goes, it has no 
grounds in scripture or religious laws, as 
previously stated. Suppose you’re standing 
in front of a crowd of 100 people, and you’re 
offered a mysterious liquid. You are told 
truthfully that the liquid is not dangerous 
to your health or well-being, but it doesn’t 
taste very good and you don’t know exactly 
what’s in it. If you do not drink the liquid, 
all 100 people will be forced to eat a cookie 
that could potentially kill them or cause 
them great harm. If you do drink the liquid, 
35 of the 100 people will be forced to eat the 
cookie. What do you do?

My assumption is that most would drink 

the liquid, despite it being unappetizing 
and unknown. Similarly, most do not 
know what goes into a vaccine, and some 
minimal negative consequences, such as 
chills, tiredness and joint pain, can result 
from receiving one. But, when drinking 

that metaphorical liquid has the potential 
to save a significant number of people 
(studies have shown that one dose of the 
main COVID-19 vaccines may offer 50-80% 
protection against symptomatic COVID-19), 
an individual’s own perceived sacredness of 
their body matters little. 

Anyone who uses their religion to get 

out of a COVID-19 vaccine when it becomes 
available has no solid grounds on which to 
argue. The majority of religions practiced 
in the U.S. have no indication of opposition 
to vaccines. There are no constitutional 
obligations to allow people to opt out 
of a vaccine if receiving it would have a 
significant positive impact on national 
health. Ethically, it makes the most sense 
to be administered the vaccine. So, in the 
case of a national COVID-19 vaccination 
mandate, religious exemptions must not be 
sustained because, by nature, they aren’t 
religious at all.

W

hen the United States 
Capitol was stormed 
during the certifying of 

the election, many of us in Michigan 
saw immediate parallels to the recent 
political extremism in our own 
state. Following the insurrection in 
Washington, D.C., it is imperative that 
we work to address political violence 
by banning all weapons from the 
Capitol building and holding elected 
officials accountable for their violent 
rhetoric.

In April of last year, a large group 

of armed protestors who were angry 
about the state’s COVID-19 lockdown 
entered the Michigan State Capitol in 
Lansing, Mich. The scene inside the 
Capitol showed many aggressive and 
agitated demonstrators harassing 
legislators and Capitol police while 
dressed in military fatigues and toting 
semi-automatic weapons. Some of 
the people at the demonstration were 
identified as being part of far-right 
militia groups. 

After this intimidation at the 

Michigan Capitol, many Democrats 
in Lansing pushed to change the 
rules that allowed for people to 
carry firearms into the Capitol. 
Unfortunately, there was no change in 
the gun rules because of obstruction 
by the Republican leadership which 

refused to ban weapons from the 
Capitol building. Months later, the 
world witnessed a similar attack on 
a larger and more dangerous scale at 
our nation’s capital. That riot led to 
the death of five people — including a 
Capitol police officer — and two more 
officers took their own lives afterward.

Following 
the 
armed 
protest 

at 
the 
Michigan 
State 
Capitol, 

representatives in Lansing eventually 
decided to take the small step of 
banning open carry of weapons inside 
the Michigan Capitol. While this is an 
important change, it does not go far 
enough. The change only applies to 
openly carried weapons, meaning that 
people with a concealed carry pistol 
permit can still legally carry a hidden 
weapon into the Michigan Capitol. 

The political violence that we have 

seen in Michigan has been furthered 
not only by lax gun laws but also by our 
very own elected officials. Michigan 
Senate Majority Leader Mike Shirkey, 
R-Jackson, has come under fire for 
his comments and actions that have 
lent credence to violent groups and 
movements in Michigan. 

Shirkey 
has 
long 
been 
an 

adversary of Gov. Gretchen Whitmer, 
consistently working to oppose her 
agenda. Recently, he has resorted to 
making many bizarre and misogynistic 

comments about the governor, such as 
his sexist comments about her looks 
and his discussion about “spanking 
her” on the state budget. His comments 
and actions sometimes threaten or 
promote violence, including when 
he said he would like to fist fight the 
governor on the Capitol lawn and was 
caught on a hot mic saying that the Jan. 
6 Capitol attack in Washington, D.C., 
was a hoax. 

Shirkey has not only promoted 

violence with his words but also 
with his actions. He has liaised with 
far-right militia leaders in Michigan 
and earlier this year, he met with the 
leaders of multiple militia groups to 
help them with their public perception.

His actions against the governor 

have been even more concerning due 
to the credible threats of violence 
against Whitmer. In October 2020, 
the FBI announced that it had 
arrested multiple members of a 
far-right militia who were actively 
planning to kidnap and harm the 
governor. Even after learning about 
the plot against the governor, Sen. 
Shirkey still made positive comments 
about militias and how “they are not 
uniquely different from you and me.”

Wednesday, March 3, 2021 — 9
Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

ISABELLE SCHINDLER | COLUMNIST

ILANA MERMELSTEIN | COLUMNIST

JULIA MALONEY | COLUMNIST

Isabelle Schindler can be reached at 

ischind@umich.edu.

Ilana Mermelstein can be reached at 

imerm@umich.edu.

Julia Maloney can be reached at 

jvmalo@umich.edu

W

hile Angell’s legacy 
is 
complex 
— 
and 

potentially problematic 

— it is unlikely that more than a small 
percentage of the students that walk 
through the doors of Angell Hall are 
aware of this legacy. 

Amid a nationwide reckoning with 

the memorialization of controversial 
historical figures, the University 
must also partake in increasing our 
efforts to thoroughly understand the 
leaders we choose to highlight on 
campus, including Angell. 

Angell 
served 
as 
University 

President from 1871 to 1909. During 
his 38 year tenure as president, 
the University’s enrollment more 
than tripled. He was adamant that 
education be accessible to all, not 
just for the elite. To this point, he 
emphasized the admission of first-
generation college students; in 1880, 
fewer than one in four students 
had parents with a college degree. 
Angell also oversaw the first female 
students to join the University at the 
beginning of his term in 1870 and 1871 
and later became a vocal supporter of 
co-education. 

Angell saw education as a public 

service 
and 
greatly 
expanded 

resources for faculty research to 
this end. Under his leadership, the 
number of departments on campus 
grew from three to seven and the 
number of professors went from 35 to 
250. Historian James Tobin asserted 
that it was Angell who supported the 
University in becoming the leading 
public university in the country.

These details make it clear 

why the University would want to 
honor Angell’s legacy — and they 
have done so through a myriad of 
memorialization, the Angell Scholars 
and Angell Hall being the most 
well-known. Notably, the University 
highlights much of this history in its 
descriptions of Angell online. 

But the full story of Angell’s work 

is more complex: In 1880, during his 
tenure as University President, he 
was a diplomat under Rutherford B. 
Hayes and renegotiated the United 
States’ ability to restrict immigration 
from China. The treaty produced, 

named after Angell himself, opened 
the door for one of the most racist 
immigration 
bills 
in 
American 

history: the Chinese Exclusion Act, 
the first and only major federal 
law suspending immigration for a 
specific nationality. 

The act, signed in 1882 by 

President 
Chester 
A. 
Arthur, 

prohibited all Chinese laborers from 
immigrating to the U.S., leaving 
only Chinese diplomats and their 
servants with the right to enter the 
country. Additionally, all non-citizen 
Chinese laborers who had previously 
immigrated to the country were 
barred from becoming citizens, and 
Chinese citizens who left the U.S. 
had to obtain special permission to 
re-enter.

While Angell himself was not 

directly involved in the creation or 
passage of the Chinese Exclusion Act, 
his negotiation of the Angell Treaty 
did pave the way for it. This treaty 
revoked the Burlingame Treaty of 
1868, which had previously granted 
special privileges to citizens of China 
and encouraged large-scale Chinese 
immigration. Shortly after revoking 
the Burlingame Treaty, the U.S. 
government chose to ban nearly all 
Chinese immigration, subsequently 
resulting in the passage of the 
Chinese Exclusion Act. 

Angell’s history is thus more 

complicated 
than 
often 
first 

presented and we, as a university, 
need to reckon with it. That being 
said, it is imperative that this 
reckoning extends past a debate over 
whether or not his name belongs on 
school buildings or honors titles — 
such a debate is inherently temporary 
and denies U-M students the ability 
to honestly discuss and understand 
our history. Moreover, the removal 
of a name from a building does little 
in creating a platform through which 
to discuss the positive and negative 
aspects of a figure’s legacy. 

The Michigan Daily Editorial 

Board 
recommends 
that 
the 

University establish some variety of an 
official, transparent forum in which 
students and faculty may honestly 
discuss important and complicated 

issues of the University’s history, 
which include, but are not limited 
to, Angell’s legacy. This can take a 
number of forms: perhaps a one or 
two-credit mini-course that teaches 
about important figures and events of 
the University, or a section of student 
orientation with a similar focus. 

Angell’s history is a great case 

study given that his history, like 
many others, cannot be categorized 
binarily as good or bad. Forums 
like those we suggest would allow 
students to actually learn about 
these issues, engaging with history 
through a more holistic and critical-
thinking approach. 

It is difficult to predict whether 

such 
a 
course 
or 
orientation 

component would be accepted by 
faculty and students, or if it would 
be 
considered 
an 
inconvenient 

obligation. Nevertheless, a forum 
of some sort, regardless of if it 
manifests in this manner, should be 
implemented. 

Understanding the University’s 

history is important, especially 
when its prominent figures are 
so frequently celebrated without 
context. 
Angell’s 
history 
could 

therefore act as a springboard for 
implementing heightened University 
resources on other historical figures 
and influences that shape the 
community we know today. 

Ultimately, we need to collectively 

address the memorialization of those 
who came before us and, therefore, 
set the tone of the virtues and values 
the University aims to uphold. In 
these continued conversations of 
reckoning with our University’s 
past, we must also acknowledge 
the gray area that many of these 
historic figures fall into — James B. 
Angell was able to accomplish some 
admirable goals, yet his past is not 
just the positive narrative publicized 
and memorialized by the University. 

It is the responsibility of our 

institution 
and 
its 
community 

members to explore the foundations 
of this University and create a 
better scaffolding for navigating our 
understanding of such history going 
forward.

I

t is well known that the 
University of Michigan is one of 
the country’s most consistently 

left-leaning educational institutions. 
It is hoisted up by a predominantly 
liberal student body that spews 
progressive thought in the residence 
halls and holds hot debate in the 
lecture halls. The strong progressive 
foundation 
that 
the 
University 

upholds appears to be cemented in 
blue — with a pinch of maize of course 
— but it is important to recognize 
not being able to vote wasn’t the only 
thing women on campus weren’t able 
to do within the past century. 

With all of the controversial topics 

that remain unresolved from this past 
year — sexual misconduct scandals, 
weak COVID-19 plans, etc. — let us 
reflect on the past for insight on how 
to prevent history from repeating 
itself.

It was not until 1956 that women 

were permitted to enter the Michigan 
Union through the front door, a lifted 
restriction that was revolutionary for 
students at the time. With progress 
comes its stipulations; upon entering, 
female students were banned from 
using the Pendleton Library. Why? 
To “preserve some spark of the ‘for 
men only’ tradition,” according to 
a 1957 publication of The Michigan 
Daily. This spark has now fizzled, but 
the fires of the feminist movement 
have run their course through the 
University since its founding. 

Ann Arbor’s own Annie Smith 

Peck was one of the first women 
admitted to the University, most 
known for her refusal to let gender 
norms prevent her from scaling both 
the mountains of a patriarchal society 
and actual ones. In 1895, she dropped 
her skirt to scale the Matterhorn, 
famously 
photographed 
touting 

trousers as she made the climb. Upon 
descending 14,692 feet from the peak 
and back to campus, she faced major 
criticism over her slacks. 

“She provoked moral outrage 

with her daring and eccentric 
climbing outfit: a hip-length tunic, 
knickerbockers, stout boots and 

woolen hose, topped off by a stout 
felt hat with a veil,” writes Charles T. 
Robinson for Yankee. Such outrage 
even culminated in a public debate 
centering around whether or not Peck 
should be arrested for her crime of 
pants-wearing.

For some, it may be hard to 

believe that the streets of Ann Arbor, 
now home to its own category of 
“hipster” fashion, once restricted 
women to skirts and dresses and 
that debates held on the steps of the 
Union or bricks on the Diag were 
for a right-wing cause rather than 
left. However, there is a reason why 
female trousers were left tucked away 
in wardrobes and entrance to the 
Union was restricted, and that reason, 
put simply, is men. Where there is an 
intermingling of the sexes, the male 
gaze that we women either dread or 
relish emerges. This inescapable gaze 
is relevant in any time period, creating 
a socialized uniform. 

Back in the 1940s, the minds 

of Michigan men were not only 
consumed with fears of being drafted, 
but apparently the potential of soon 
viewing the outlined legs of women. 
Articles upon articles of The Michigan 
Daily during the early 1900s detail the 
dress code of the proper and rational 
Ann Arbor woman. One 1941 story 
details different dress combinations 
for 
every 
Michigan 
freshman, 

describing a skirt as a “necessity” in 
order to follow with the University’s 
lean towards conservatism and the 
standards of being desirable. The 
campus that was once considered one 
of the more right-leaning campuses 
of the east must surely be a different 
campus than the one we walk through 
today. It is not the same campus it was 
60 years ago, but that is thanks to the 
women who changed it.

It wasn’t until the 1960s, roughly 65 

years after Peck’s climb, that counter-
culture had finally hit its peak and 
enacted change in dress reform. 
Something practical in nature, meant 
to provide protection and flexibility 
all while promoting productivity, 
takes form in pants. An everyday 

clothing item that nowadays is stuffed 
in our drawers once represented 
equality, power and freedom. 

Fast forward to present society, 

the great legging debate continues 
to upset the nation and college 
campuses. It was just three short years 
ago United Airlines sparked outrage 
when an employee denied two young 
girls from boarding a flight due to 
their infamous tight pants. It was only 
one year ago when a woman named 
Maryann White published a letter 
in Notre Dame’s student newspaper 
asking girls to eliminate leggings from 
their wardrobe under the belief that 
leggings “make it difficult to ignore 
young women’s bodies.” 

These instances of the lack of male 

accountability rekindle the fire that 
women have fiercely sought to snuff. 
That mother (and other mothers) 
argue that there’s a generational gap 
that justifies their views, but this holds 
no avail on our campus. Growing 
up in a different generation is not an 
excuse for policing women’s clothing 
choices nor for the lack of male 
self-control. This issue is not a new 
concept with the advent of leggings 
but is in fact generational, making us 
only hope that Peck would be proud of 
a new kind of pants that has scaled yet 
another sexist mountain.

The progressive roots that the 

University appears to be grounded in 
do not run as deep as one may think. 
Recognizing 
these 
shortcomings 

in modern history is important to 
achieve further progress. 

Entering the Union takes on a 

whole new meaning knowing that, 
at one point, I — and the now 14,432 
women that call this campus home 
— would not have been able to open 
the ornate wooden doors at the main 
entrance. As I am writing this article, 
I have my feet perched on a chair 
in the skylit courtyard, sporting my 
leggings. Something as simple as this 
is a small victory that we are not to 

Fighting extremism in Michigan

Religious beliefs aside, get the damn vaccine 

Vintage feminism will never go out of 

style, just look at my pants

BRITTANY BOWMAN

Managing Editor

Stanford Lipsey Student Publications Building

420 Maynard St. 

Ann Arbor, MI 48109

 tothedaily@michigandaily.com

Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.

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.

Julian Barnard
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Mary Rolfes

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EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

Acknowledging Angell — we need a 
comprehensive U-M history lesson

FROM THE DAILY

I

n the coming weeks, select students in the College of Literature, 
Science & the Arts will receive an email congratulating them for 
being named James B. Angell Scholars. The award, named for the 

University of Michigan’s third president, celebrates any LSA student who 
receives an “A” record for two consecutive terms at the University. While 
we wish to offer congratulations for these students’ diligent dedication 
to their studies, it is also critical to learn about the award’s namesake.

