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April 07, 2021 - Image 14

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2-News

14 — Wednesday, April 7, 2021
Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

Online Event: Wednesday, March 31st, 2021 | 4:00 p.m.

An online lecture. For more information, visit
events.umich.edu/event/81873 or call 734.615.6667

IF THEY
ONLY KNEW

VINCENT
HUTCHINGS

Hanes Walton Jr. Collegiate Professor of
Political Science and Afroamerican and
African Studies

Informing Blacks and
Whites about the
Racial Wealth Gap

JOHN TUMPOWSKY | COLUMNIST
Student debt is at ridiculous levels — we need help now
T

his past summer, while many students
had just wrapped up a difficult transition
to virtual education during their second

semester of the academic year, the University of
Michigan’s Board of Regents decided to approve a
tuition increase of 1.9% for the upcoming year. For
many, that increase — however small it may have
been — was a kick to the face. An increase in our
financial burden was an unnecessary edition to the
agenda during an already stressful pandemic.

As we are approaching the one year mark since the

Board approved that change, and because on March
18, the U.S. Department of Education announced
they will forgive $1 billion in student loan debt, let’s
consider the implications for the students — both
at the University and elsewhere — who have been
struggling with tuition costs and subsequent loans.

It is important to note that said announcement

is a bit deceiving — debt relief will be given to 72,000
students who attended institutions that closed
abruptly or were involved in cases of fraud, but not to
students at most reputable universities. For those of us
who are not in that category, a proposal is in the works
for $10,000 in student debt to be universally forgiven.
Student loan debt has skyrocketed in recent years and
we should be happy, to a certain extent, that President
Joe Biden is aware of the problem. U.S. student loan
debt is currently estimated to be around $1.7 trillion
dollars, distributed among a collective of 45 million
borrowers in 2021. It is now considered “the second-
highest consumer debt category,” according to Forbes.

So where has the problem come from? Demand for

college is higher than ever before, but instead of figuring
out ways to make college more affordable for students,
our country has adopted a rather prodigal loan policy
that simply lends money to students to make that
desired education affordable — even if it isn’t.

This mindset is the crux of the multi-billion

dollar crisis we are in. It is an economic injustice of
sorts — the government is distributing loans to fund
the belief that the investment of higher education
will eventually be worthwhile, while for millions of
Americans the only reality is simply debt.

This reality is why the University’s recent tuition

hike should not be unexpected. Theoretically, there
are no limits on what schools can charge. While
this culture of ever-increasing tuition is certainly
frustrating for the average student, at the moment,
it seems that this trend is only going to continue. In
the meantime, tangible solutions to forgiving student-
loan debt need to be pushed.

Thus, we need to be thinking critically about

our representatives’ currently proposed plans, as
Biden’s isn’t the only one up for debate. The current
plans are as follows: Biden’s $10,000 plan, a differing
Democratic plan to cancel $50,000 per borrower and
the rather radical plan to cancel all debt, as pushed
by progressive legislators, including Sen. Bernie
Sanders, I-Vt.

Biden’s current stance is that the $50,000 will not

happen, and thus neither will Sanders’s. After the
President’s short and to-the-point statement that
he would not consider such a plan, he followed it up
with some more explanation. He cited the private
versus public institutional difference in student-loan
debt that made a $50,000 minimum unjust for those
not attending Ivy League-like universities. But, it
seems as though some of Biden’s arguments may
be unfounded and congressional members, seeking
to push the $50,000, do not seem to be willing to
concede as a result.

Regardless, if we do not act swiftly, the severe

economic and racial disparities that have resulted
from student loan debt are only going to be

exacerbated . Due to already existing inequities, Black
families in the United States tend to take on student
loan debt at both higher rates and in riskier forms
compared to their white counterparts. Essentially,
debt is pushing Black borrowers into greater financial
risk. At this rate, various economists predict student
loan debt will total as much as $3 trillion by the end
of the next decade. That figure is guaranteed to be
riddled with significant racial and socioeconomic
inequities.

Thus, the argument I hope to make clear to both

legislators and university officials is two-fold. First,
for legislators: While short-term solutions such as
various degrees of debt-relief plans are definitely
going to make some impact, our thoughts need to be
oriented toward long-term action. The crisis is not
going to be halted by a $10,000 proposal or even a
$50,000 one; think critically about the problems we
face and how to redirect our current model.

Second, to the universities: Acknowledge the

tuition crisis and how our loan structure is only
serving to increase the problem. Start working on
ways to decrease tuition and make the investment in
higher education one that everyone can afford.

Neither task is an easy one to pursue, but

economists have warned us of the disaster on our
hands and the long-term implications of it. It seems, at
the moment, there is no perfect solution, but that does
not mean there is no solution at all. We must work
alongside legislators and fix the crisis permanently,
not just for the short-term. As a first step, tuition
hikes during the middle of a pandemic are likely not
a strategic solution to addressing this dilemma. This
summer, let’s avoid those.

John Tumpowsky is an Opinion Columnist and can

be reached at jgtump@umich.edu.

NYLA BOORAS | COLUMNIST
My beef with the vegan community

I

f you’ve clicked on this article, you’ve
likely done so for one of three reasons:
You’re a proud omnivore who gets

ticked off by the preachings of vegans; you’re
a dedicated vegan, or aspiring to be, who is
likely already a bit irritated by the title; or you
love a good debate and are simply curious as to
how this goes. To clear the air right away, I am
not here to egg on those meat and dairy-loving
people who continue to patronize veganism
and roll their eyes when vegans boast of all the
benefits of their way of eating (I’m talking to all
my Ron Swansons out there). I’m also not going
to engage in the typical points of opposition to
veganism. I won’t go on and on about how you
can’t get enough protein on a vegan diet or that
it’s not sustainable or filling enough.

Where I do take issue is with the religious

fanaticism that can be found in the vegan
community: when staunch supporters of the
philosophy believe this way of eating is best for
everyone. The unspoken (or outright spoken)
idea that those who eat animal products are
less than in some capacity is ignorant and
all too quickly dismisses one very real and
important truth: Veganism isn’t suitable for,
nor does it benefit, everybody. There are going
to be people who cannot and should not adopt
a vegan diet, because for them, it is likely to do

more harm than good to their mental and/or
physical health.

Veganism will very rarely be suitable to

people who have had restrictive eating disorders.
Moreover, “vegan eating disorder recovery”
is a dangerous game and there will be very
few who can successfully recover while being
vegan because the idea of vegan eating disorder
recovery is a self-contradictory statement.

Think about it: What would recovery

from a restrictive eating disorder entail? It
would mean dropping all restrictions and
challenging long-held food rules and beliefs
in an attempt to rewire established neural
pathways. To do this, one would have to
actively stimulate this fear response by facing
those foods they forbid until the presence
of that food or thought of consuming it is no
longer interpreted as a threat. Since a central
component to veganism is the avoidance of
animal products, one’s recovery, if attempted
vegan, would not allow them to address these
foods they are also restricting.

Of course, the reason for restricting animal

products can be more nuanced here. Maybe
they are not afraid, per se, of those foods
veganism requires they cut out. But they are
most certainly deterred from them.

Each person will have to get at the reason

why that is. Is it solely out of respect and
honor for animal rights? If so, then yes, there
is no reason to encourage one to eat animal
products if it crosses an ethical boundary they
intentionally maintain. But, I would also add,
you can always return to veganism because
of your ethical values in the future. It may be
worth at least taking a break from veganism if
and when you are feeling too restrictive and like
you may be slipping into the terrain of an eating
disorder. This might look like heightened fear
and anxiety around the thought of consuming
anything animal-based.

For the wing of veganism that truly

engages in it as a philosophy rooted in animal
rights, I commend you for having such a noble
intention. However, I believe there are many
who, caught up in our diet and thin-obsessed
society (now being obscured under the banner
of “health”), choose to become vegan in an
attempt to finally frame this restriction as
“right” or “healthy.”

Is your dedication to veganism rooted

in your belief that it is environmentally
friendly? Even this is being debated in
recent discourse. Ecologist Allan Savory put
forth his compelling argument for “holistic
management and planned grazing” in his Ted
Talk and his method calls for the use of more

livestock to re-green the Earth’s arid lands
and significantly reduce atmospheric carbon.
The Savory method is undoubtedly in need of
more studies to prove if the theory is applicable
across different contexts, but my main point
is, would you be willing to leave complete
veganism if it didn’t do the wonders for the
environment you believed it did?

If your dedication to veganism is neither

rooted in environmental and or ethical beliefs,
I am led to believe you may be clinging to it
out of fear and a belief that it is inherently the
healthiest way to eat. And if you have rigid
food rules forbidding all animal products
because you believe they are harmful to your
health, I’d encourage you to read more into the
diagnostic criteria of orthorexia. In fact, the
line separating veganism and orthorexia can
be easily blurred and one might go back and
forth between the two terrains unknowingly.
A study on this connection between
restrained eating behaviors and veganism
and vegetarianism found that vegans and
vegetarians exhibited more orthorexic eating
behaviors than those who eat red meat. A 2018
article from The Independent also highlights
numerous lived experiences where people
hide their eating disorders behind veganism.

In short, that is why recovery from a

restrictive eating disorder will have to have
zero restraints on any food groups (allergies
and intolerances aside). More often than
not, allowing restriction to continue in any
capacity during recovery attempts, such as by
continuing to keep animal products off-limits,
will result in the eating disorder voice living
on, albeit a bit quieter.

Even when one is post-recovery and feels

far-removed from their eating disorder, any
restrictive way of eating could be triggering
and slowly send them back down a dangerous
path. Because it is hard to realize you’re back
on that path when already on it, you’re better
off not embarking on it in the first place. Those
who have recovered from a restrictive eating
disorder, are in the process of doing so or who
more generally have a tendency to engage in
disordered eating behaviors, are the perfect
example of a population who should not be
engaging in fully-fledged veganism.

Moving forward, let’s collectively be

mindful of the fact that, for some, veganism
can be a gateway into an eating disorder
and it should not be hailed as the all-curing,
omnipotent way of eating it currently is.

Nyla Booras is an Opinion Columnist and can

be reached at nbooras@umich.edu.

JESSIE MITCHELL | COLUMNIST

No sweaters in my oven

W

hen my parents were
dating during the 90s
in New York City, my

mom kept her sweaters in their
oven. My mom said the kitchen was
too small and gross and they needed
the storage space. They used to tell
that story from time to time when I
was growing up, often when my dad
commented on my mom’s cooking
(which frequently utilized an oven
during my childhood). He seemed
to be saying, “Look how far she’s
come.”

Recently, I’ve been thinking

about the sweaters in the oven. Our
poor oven, which is lucky if it gets
lunch off from roasting chickpeas
or brussels sprouts, would be
thrilled to have a couple of days
protecting some sweaters, I’m sure.
This semester, my pandemic fatigue
has taken the form of meal-time
existential dread, and every time I
start to chop my silly little brussels
sprouts, I try to imagine myself with
the kind of life where the oven is
most useful as a dresser. I can’t.

Perhaps, if the pandemic had not

made it so that I was less than five
steps from my oven 23 hours per
day, I would feel differently. In the
alternate pandemic-free reality, I’d
probably have a small meal plan. I’d
go to events with food advertised,
order out occasionally and throw
something quick together if I
could stop at home between 5-9
p.m. Instead, I cook all but one
meal a week, ordering takeout on
whichever night it is that Soylent
or starvation doesn’t feel like a
reasonable
alternative
to
food

preparation.

The sweaters, which I’ve been

thinking about lately when I go to
roast my veggies, are a symbol to me
of the small ways that the pandemic
has changed me. Cooking nearly
every meal, while both necessary

and mundane most of the time,
feels like a significant step toward
something resembling adulthood.
But as someone who grew up
hearing about the “20s in New York”
lifestyle, it also sometimes feels like
a regression from modernity. My
mental image of young adulthood
failed to include meals requiring
multiple pans and 45 minutes of
oven time.

The pandemic has forced a type

of domesticity on us all, but for me, it
has also rewired my priorities. I no
longer want the most competitive,
prestigious career at any cost. I
no longer want the type of job
that forces you to eat takeout six
nights per week. I want to be able
to cultivate my relationships in the
slow, careful way that I cook my
food and I want a job that allows me
to do that.

I think it’s likely that we will see

a sort of “roaring 20s” as people
are finally able to safely let loose.
My prevailing feeling, however,
is a desire to stay close to the
familiar. I’m not itching to travel
the world or to take a big job in a
place away from friends or family.
I’m not excited to become so busy
flitting from one thing to the next

that I don’t have time to make my
sprouts.

To
me,
the
pandemic
has

been one long “deserted island”
question. When shit really hits the
fan, who do you want to be stuck
with — physically or emotionally?
For now, for who knows how long,
surrounding myself with people I
would want to be stuck with on an
island is my driving force.

I’m not really sure what I want to

do after I graduate, but in the past
few weeks, I’ve watched so many
talented writers lose their jobs. I’m
watching my own talented friends
across many different fields struggle
to get paid employment of any kind.
I’ve watched the incredible dearth
of support given to working mothers
throughout
the
pandemic.
I’m

feeling my ambition shrivel behind
a computer screen as I fail to see
examples of hard work paying off.

For today — in a way that feels very

not-21 of me — it’s the vision of the
people that I love around the dinner
table that is keeping me going. The
oven will need to remain sweater-free.

A

mid the recent onslaught of mass shootings,
financial market instability and attacks on
our democracy, I have increasingly found

myself retreating to the comfort of my television
for an escape. As events have worsened, my show
selection has circled the drain from “Normal People”
and “Master of None” down to the depths of “Big
Mouth” and “Glee” (say what you will, but Marley
and Jake made season four watchable). However,
things began looking up a couple of weeks ago, when
I accidentally stumbled upon a work of genius that I
never adequately appreciated in my youth: “Phineas
and Ferb.”

I, like many others born between 1998 and 2002, saw

the show’s campy first few episodes and quickly aged
out of the target demographic, leaving it behind for teen
shows like “iCarly” and “Victorious.” Sadly, that left me
with a bad taste in my mouth, having viewed it as boring
and formulaic. However, when I revisited the show as
an adult, I finally saw its true vision.

Even though they get a lot of screen time, I saw that

the titular Phineas and Ferb really aren’t the main
characters. See, they are both too “good” in the boring
Captain America sense, whereas both Candace and
Dr. Doofenshmirtz provide the show with conflict,
compromise, excitement, tragedy and — through their
human flaws — relatability. While I could go on for
pages about the genius of Candace’s character, I will
save that for a future column. Instead, I want to talk
about Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz, a comically inept
villain on first look. I mean, his corporation is literally
called “Doofenshmirtz Evil Inc.,” so he has to be the
bad guy, right?

Not necessarily. While he inexplicably wants to

rule the Tri-State Area — despite never showing an
inclination to run for public office — his only real goal
is to make his daughter happy. I mean, it’s kind of
incredible to have a character who spends his tragic
childhood abandoned and isolated, yet when he
becomes a parent himself, and despite a divorce, he is
not only a caring father but a truly good man. He never
kills and rarely seeks to harm anyone, besides Perry
the Platypus, who, in all honesty, kind of has it coming.
He shows no resentment toward his ex-wife. He even
befriends his mortal enemy at the end of the series and
begins fighting for the “good” guys.

Doofenshmirtz does this because he wears his

heart on his sleeve and broadcasts his emotions,

which is an almost-Herculean feat for such a
fundamentally stunted man. He is precisely the kind
of complex, flawed and three-dimensional character
that our culture has come to appreciate in recent
years. However, he subverts the antihero archetype
by having a comedic moral gray area as opposed to
the objective darkness embodied by Walter White
of “Breaking Bad” and Rick Sanchez of “Rick
and Morty,” two of the most ubiquitous fictional
characters of the last decade.

In the #MeToo era, many have falsely claimed that

men are under attack, but that isn’t really accurate.
Instead, this era presents a unique opportunity for
us to redefine manhood from the outdated toxic
definition that uplifts the likes of Brett Kavanaugh,
Harvey Weinstein and every Brad and Chad on Greek
Row. It is a horrific culture that leads women to cover
their drinks, never walk home alone and feel unsafe in
their own communities. That kind of environment was
created, cultivated and perpetuated by men, and we
cannot allow the inherent sexism within that predatory
culture to exist.

Instead, we need to replace our heroes with paragons

of non-toxic masculinity like Anthony Mackie, Harry
Styles and, yes, Heinz Doofenshmirtz who embrace
their emotions and express their individuality,
displaying courage in the face of potential societal
backlash. These men inspire me to improve myself
every day and to be an ally to the women and LGBTQ+
people who face unspeakable injustices.

Together, we as men can follow in their footsteps

by being allies and extending a helping hand to get
informed about what we can do. That yearning for
understanding coupled with an embrace of facts that
might be uncomfortable for us to face is exactly what a
real man does. A real man fights for the downtrodden;
he doesn’t trample. A real man expresses emotion; he
doesn’t hide beneath alcohol and anger. A real man is
proud of being a man, but he doesn’t demean those who
aren’t.

Generation Z has the opportunity to walk away

from toxic masculinity and embrace a gentler,
friendlier and more Doofenshmirtz-ian form of
manhood. That is our greatest challenge — and my
most ardent hope.

KEITH JOHNSTONE | COLUMNIST
Dr. Doofenshmirtz taught me how

to be a real man

Jessie Mitchell is an Opinion

Columnist and can be reached at

jessiemi@umich.edu.

Keith Johnstone is an Opinion Columnist and can be

reached at keithja@umich.edu.

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