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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