2020-04-01 by The Michigan Daily

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Wednesday, April 1, 2020

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Prospective students face difficult college decisions in light of national college closures Outbreak of COVID leaves matriculants unable to tour ‘U’ campus, Ann Arbor KRISTINA ZHENG Daily Staff Reporter

Prospective University of Michigan student David Chu was looking forward to touring the University’s campus for his first time before making a college decision — until the coronavirus outbreak changed his plans. Chu is from a suburb near Chicago, Illinois, and was accepted to the Ross School of Business. Because of campus event closures due to the COVID19 pandemic, however, he was unable to visit the University, which made his decision on which college to attend more difficult. “There are a lot of schools that I applied to that I wasn’t really sure, and even now, there are a lot of schools that I feel like I need to visit in order to make my decision, and Michigan is one of them,” Chu said. “Not being able to visit the

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schools does make it harder for me to decide.” The University canceled all in-person admissions events and is no longer conducting tours during the pandemic. The University’s admissions staff

remains fully available by phone and email. Betsy Brown, director of integrated marketing communications at the Office of Enrollment Management, wrote in an email to The Daily that

students should remain in contact with the University despite the distance. “We do want prospective and admitted students to stay in touch with us,” Brown wrote. “In many cases our admissions counselors

Michigan Medicine preps for virus peak

Indoor track facility on State Street to be made into field hospital to cope with influx of patients EMMA STEIN

Daily News Editor

Michigan Medicine presented projections on how social distancing will impact the number of patients hospitalized for COVID19 at its peak and noted plans to convert an indoor track facility into a field hospital during a virtual press conference on Tuesday afternoon. Vikas Parekh, associate chief for Medical, Emergency and Psychiatry Services at Michigan Medicine, said social distancing has beneficial long-term effects on the number of infected people. “The number of Michigan residents that will be infected with COVID-19 is likely to get worse before it gets better,” Parekh said. “There’s a high risk that it will overload our health care system.

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But this doesn’t mean that social distancing isn’t working — it just means we need to give it time to have impact.” Keith Dickey, chief strategy officer for Michigan Medicine, said they expect to reach capacity at their hospitals in the next two

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weeks. In order to account for this surge in patients, Dickey said they are looking to create field hospitals. He noted this would be a “Step Down Unit” for patients who are generally stable but cannot return home. “We are now assessing locations

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outside of the four walls of our hospitals, on our athletic campus, for the potential to create a field hospital of 500 beds or more,” Dickey said. “The initial location we are evaluating and prepping for is in the indoor track at the facility on State Street.” Dickey said they are aiming to have an initial field hospital up by April 9 or 10. Parekh noted the data and projections presented are based on worst-case scenario models where the most people possible become infected. The first model demonstrated that with “aggressive social distancing,” the peak would be on May 16 with 3,179 hospitalized, compared to a peak of 5,860 hospitalized on May 4 with less social distancing. See HOSPITAL, Page 3A

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are reaching out individually to students to address any of their questions or concerns. We also remain virtually open and available if students want to contact us.” See TOURS, Page 3A

GOVERNMENT

Sen. Peters talks federal relief effort Town hall highlights details of legislation CELENE PHILIP For The Daily

Tuesday afternoon, Sen. Gary Peters, D-Mich., held the first of two telephone town halls on the COVID-19 pandemic open to the public. On the call, Peters discussed Michigan’s expansion of unemployment benefits, ways residents can help health care workers access personal protective equipment, plans to minimize the pandemic’s impact on the economy and the direction of future legislative efforts. See SENATOR, Page 2A

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News

2A — Wednesday, April 1, 2020

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Donations of personal protective equipment are sorted by volunteers at the North Campus Research Complex for Michigan Medicine.

Newly elected members of CSG fill leadership positions

Following last week’s election, body convenes digitally to select Speaker of the Assembly, discuss nominations to head committees JULIA RUBIN

Daily Staff Reporter

The University of Michigan Central Student Government’s 10th Assembly was sworn in over BlueJeans by third year Law student Henry Zurn Tuesday night. The meeting was the first for the candidates for executive and representative positions elected in last week’s online voting. Public Policy junior Amanda Kaplan and LSA junior Sav Nandigama, the new president and vice president, spoke about their vision for CSG in the next year after being sworn into their roles. Kaplan and Nandigama called for the newly elected Assembly members to set aside party differences and unite to

serve the student body. “Parties are a great mechanism as far as providing some equity in the process and helping us achieve the goal of being elected, but at the end of the day, they’re not useful in the Assembly, because they get in the way of our individual decisionmaking,” Nandigama said. “We should never use parties as the deciding factor in how we vote or what we vote for, because that’s not what we were elected to do.” Kaplan introduced motions to reallocate funds the Ninth Assembly promised to both student organizations and the Dean of Students’ Emergency Fund. The money allocated to the Office of Multi-Ethnic Student Affairs and the Sexual Assault Prevention and Awareness Center from CSG’s account was not taken out before remaining funds were

allocated to support students during the COVID-19 outbreak. Kaplan said these motions would ensure the funds CSG had promised were properly allocated. “When COVID-19 happened, the previous president allocated all the money in the executive discretionary account to the Dean of Students’ Emergency Fund and forgot that we had previously allocated certain amounts of money to different student organizations, and those transactions never got made,” Kaplan said. “This is money that we owe to people that we can’t take out of the Dean of Students’ Fund because that’s unfair to students who are currently using that money.”

down during the crisis. On the state level, Peters explained the significant changes being made for Michiganders currently receiving unemployment benefits, including the influx of applicants coming in as the pandemic continues. Those currently receiving unemployment assistance will be eligible to receive an additional $600 per week through July 2020 from the federal government. New applicants will receive this bonus as well. Peters stressed the importance of supporting individuals and small business owners in order to make restarting the economy as painless as possible. “We’re taking measures similar to what is done during a natural disaster,” Peters said. “A pandemic is every bit a natural disaster as a hurricane, but this time it is blowing over the whole country, not just one region.” The call was later opened to questions from Michigan residents. One man from Clinton Township asked the senator what areas he thinks future bills will focus on. Peters said he wants to monitor what has already been passed and evaluate where additional resources would be necessary. However, Peters said some sort of assistance will be necessary for rural hospitals as well as educational institutions in the state as the number of

COVID-19 patients rises. Another resident from Burton asked if the virus would delay the November election. Peters said every effort would be made to make sure voting continues as planned and he imagines voting would be made possible for all Michiganders from home through absentee ballots. The call ended as one resident from Shelby Township asked about communal efforts to help provide personal protective equipment to health care workers. “I know a lot of us have sewing machines and 3D printers we are ready to use,” Justin said. “Are there any existing programs out there currently organizing efforts for people to help make and distribute PPE (personal protective equipment)?” Peters acknowledged the numerous high school robotics teams using their skills to make masks as well as the role of Michigan auto companies in producing ventilators. He said the Michigan Economic Development Corporation is working to organize people who will be able to help supply more personal protective equipment in the short-run. “Eventually, the manufacturing muscle of this economy will be able to work faster,” Peters said. “But it takes time.” Celene Philip can be reached at celenep@ umich.edu.

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SENATOR From Page 1A “I’d like to, first and foremost, recognize the heroes in our state,” Peters said. “What we have seen from our fellow Michiganders has been nothing short of remarkable.” Peters thanked the health care and grocery store workers in their efforts to maintain essential services. The senator addressed COVID-19 as both a public health crisis and an economic crisis. Peters elaborated on his efforts through communicating with the Federal Emergency Management Agency to ensure as much equipment as possible is coming into the state. Additionally, a large portion of the $2 trillion stimulus package passed in Washington, D.C. is slated to go toward health care systems around the country. Peters provided information about the state’s expansion of unemployment benefits to keep individuals and families protected while the economy has been put on pause. The Pandemic Unemployment Assistance, part of the CARES Act, is a part of the stimulus package which Peters worked on. This expands unemployment eligibility generally, including to small business owners who have had to close

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News

Wednesday, April 1, 2020 — 3A

Law enforcement says increase in crime unlikely despite vacant student homes As University of Michigan population clears out, Ann Arbor Police Department, Division of Public Safety and Security doubt empty campus will lead to rise in reported criminal activity around city CHERYN HONG For The Daily

The University of Michigan is mostly vacant now that the majority of students have gone home due to the push from University Housing to leave campus. Two weeks ago, local police were notified of an armed person in a home on the 400 block of North State Street in Ann Arbor. The situation was resolved as the suspect was taken into custody. Despite the armed person incident, Melissa Overton, chief of the Division of Public Safety and Security, said she does not expect the decreased number of people to result in increased crime or looting. For one, Overton said the number of workers who remain at the University, such as those working at Michigan Medicine along with other essential staff, is no different than during University breaks. “The vacant campus gives us the opportunity to get in the buildings more frequently, and if there are people who aren’t supposed to be around we get more calls as well,” Overton

TOURS From Page 1A Brown also detailed how the University is in the process of developing virtual resources for prospective students, which include a video narration of the information session, Campus Day presentations, alumni videos, social media interactions and a 360-degree video tour of the campus. “We have a number of opportunities in the works for prospective and admitted students to access information,” Brown wrote. “One exciting resource that we’ve been working closely with Michigan Creative

HOSPITAL From Page 1A Michigan Medicine is currently licensed for 1,000 beds, according to a press release. Aggressive social distancing could reduce the number of hospitalized COVID19 patients by 65 percent. Parekh explained social distancing works because it slows down what’s known as “doubling time.” He said Michigan’s doubling time right now is three days — meaning the number of cases doubles every three days. The second model shown depicts how social

said. “We don’t expect any inf lux of crime at all, and the quiet makes it easier for us to know who belongs and who doesn’t.” Sergeant Corey Mills, who is in charge of the community engagement unit for the Ann Arbor Police Department, also said calls for service have gone down. He said assault numbers, which include both simple and domestic assaults, have not changed and may have even decreased. “We attribute the decrease in calls from not many people being on the road, which lessens traffic crashes as well as minor offenses such as trespassing,” Mills said. “To be expected, we’re not getting many property claims either, simply because larceny and breaking into homes can’t happen when everyone is home and overall, general calls for service have been lowered.” Similarly, some students who chose to remain on campus, such as Taubman sophomore Madhumita Krishnan said she feels safer as Gov. Gretchen Whitmer’s Stay Home, Stay Safe Executive Order and other Centers for Disease Control and

Prevention guidelines about coronavirus inf luences her to stay inside more. Because her apartment has proper security systems, Krishnan said she doesn’t feel any more in danger than before. Additionally, Krishnan said she thinks most empty apartments do not have what potential looters might want to take. “At this point, I don’t think that stealing things like furniture or electronics is useful because people aren’t out to buy it right now,” Krishnan said. “I’d think they’d want food, and because many people cleared out their apartments, and there’s probably no food, there’s nothing for them to steal.” Business senior Gabrielle de Coster said she hasn’t noticed a difference in crime levels due to social distancing, as she spends her time either walking in Nichols Arboretum or isolating herself in her apartment. De Coster said she believes staying indoors by herself helps keep her safe from possible crime in the area. “Honestly if it weren’t for the emergency alert on my

on is a 360 video tour of campus. We’ve done a lot of videotaping already in collaboration with our campus partners, but unfortunately, that work is stalled for the moment. We’ll get back to it just as soon as students and faculty are back on campus.” Due to the stalled production, Brown said the 360-degree campus tour will not be available for current high school seniors, but rather future prospective students, faculty and staff looking to get a sense of the University’s community. Brown also said the University will proceed as normal with the enrollment deposit deadline on May 1, while allowing those with extenuating circumstances

to request extensions. Some universities across the country have begun to move the deposit deadline to June 1, giving students additional time to commit. Options for summer events are still being discussed, and notifications of any cancellations will be sent out at least a month in advance, Brown said. LSA senior David Dorsky has been a Campus Day leader for four years and a tour guide for three years. He said touring the University allows prospective and incoming students to experience college life among other students. “A lot of people make their

distancing can significantly increase doubling time. At 50 percent social distancing, the doubling time is approximately 7.7 days, according to the chart. During a Q&A session, Parekh said these percentages could generally apply to hospitals all around the country, but the individual numbers would differ. Marschall Runge, executive vice president for medical affairs and chief executive officer of Michigan Medicine, said in the press release that Michigan Medicine is doing all they can to prepare, but he noted the importance of social

distancing as demonstrated by the projections. “I want to reassure the public that we are doing all we can to prepare to care for COVID19 positive patients as well as other patients who urgently require the highly-specialized, safe and reliable advanced medical care that Michigan Medicine delivers,” Runge said. “We have reached out for donations of medical equipment and received thousands of gloves, masks and more so we can better meet this challenge. We prepare constantly for emergencies like this and have some of the world’s top experts preparing for the problem. But

phone, I would have had no idea about the (armed person) because I was fully quarantined waiting for my tests results for COVID-19,” de Coster said. “I also live over by Tappan and Hill, so it doesn’t feel as desolate or more dangerous in comparison to areas with mostly undergraduate students, such as White Street.” Even though the incident with the armed individual happened just a block from where he lives, Engineering junior Sahil Saini said he feels safe. He said he has been taught to be wellprepared for any circumstances of looting or crime and doesn’t feel there is a need to move offcampus. “I mean this is the stuff I grew up with, but everything in my car is in my trunk, because I have a trunk cover, and even if I need to leave stuff in my car, it goes under a blanket or inside a bag or hidden somewhere,” Saini said. “I check the front door a couple times a day because I’m living with subletters now as all my roommates moved out, but I can honestly say I would walk around Kerrytown with my laptop and feel safe.” According to Overton, in any

decisions off of how it feels to actually be on campus amongst these students,” Dorsky said. “You can read about it so much in a brochure and watch videos about the University, but to actually be on campus is just a whole other feeling that really gives you a sense of the University and the culture and the vibe here for prospective students.” Prospective LSA student Stella McCabe-Soares is from New York City and said she was able to tour some schools near her home, but due to the distance, she was planning on touring the University after she was accepted. “I definitely would have

we need your help, and these projections prove it.” Parekh said they currently have enough personal protective equipment for Michigan Medicine staff but are testing ways to safely sanitize and reuse PPE if it becomes necessary. “The short answer is yes, right now we do feel that we have enough PPE,” Parekh said. “We have a robust system in place to track how much we use each day and what our inventory is. We are also taking aggressive measures to conserve and potentially reuse PPE when safe and effective.” Parekh concluded by asking

case of possible crime, DPSS covers security for housing, the museums and the hospital. She said everyone is working hard to ensure those who remain on campus are safe. She also urged community members to take precautions for their own safety as well. “Be aware of your surroundings, and make sure to lock your doors if you’re the only ones working in the office,” Overton said. “And make sure to call if you see anybody who doesn’t belong in the area.” Mills said everyone in the city should abide by the governor’s orders to stay home, including students. “Students often want to still congregate in four or five groups of people, and we’ve caught a couple kids playing beer pong and we have to remind them they are in violation ... in order to stop the spread and f latten the curve out,” Mills said. “To my knowledge, we have not issued any violations, but we have had to give out warnings and have ordered people to go home and disperse.” Contributor Cheryn Hong can be reached at cherynh@umich. edu.

wanted to do a tour,” McCabeSoares said. “I think touring is valuable. Although it’s not the most accurate way to see if you would like the school or anything, it’s nice to go there because you could be living there.” Faith Richardson, an incoming Ross student, is from Berrien Springs, Mich, and was able to visit the campus before classes were moved to remote learning. She said how the University has responded to the coronavirus outbreak is also a factor she is keeping in mind while making her decision.

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everyone to practice social distancing in order to reduce transmissions and stay healthy. “We want to reinforce our key takeaway messages here: the biggest takeaway is social distancing,” Parekh said. “So for everyone to do their part, stay at home, minimize contact with others, to not leave your home unless absolutely needed and obviously, at home and wherever you go — practice good hand-washing and maintain six feet of distance from others.” Daily News Editor Emma Stein can be reached at enstein@ umich.edu

Opinion

4A — Wednesday, April 1, 2020

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ISABELLE SCHINDLER | COLUMN

Let’s vote by mail now and in the future

arch 10 is a day I won’t soon forget. Classes had yet to be moved online, and I was clinging to the hope that I would get to finish my freshman year in Ann Arbor. Yet, that day, the coronavirus was not on my mind — voting was. It was primary day in Michigan and, like countless other students, I went to the polls and cast my vote, proudly sporting my sticker afterward. We were fortunate to have our election that day, as that very night Michigan was put under a state of emergency. However, many other states were not as lucky. As the threat of COVID-19 forces millions of Americans to stay home and practice social distancing, many states have postponed their presidential primaries. Given that we do not know how long the outbreak will last, there are many lingering questions about whether voting in this critical election year can take place as it normally does. One option being explored is voting by mail, a unique system that should be considered not only during this crisis but as a possible permanent step toward more accessible and equitable voting in the future. Although it has gained more attention due to coronavirus, voting by mail is not a new concept. Five states — Colorado, Hawaii, Oregon, Utah and Washington — virtually hold all their elections solely through the mail. In each state, a ballot is mailed to the address of every registered voter. The voter can then fill out their ballot and mail it in or drop it off at a certain location. While this system might sound strange to those of us who have only voted in person, the “vote by mail” system has benefits. One of the most tangible benefits is an increase in voter turnout. Voter turnout in this country is abysmal. One of the contributing factors to these low turnout numbers is the inaccessibility of the polls for many people. Many places have chronic issues of long lines, with one man waiting almost seven hours just to vote in the Texas primary. Even with

shorter wait times, getting to the polls can still be difficult for people. Not every person can find time on a Tuesday to go to the polls and cast their vote. This is especially true for those working hourly jobs. I was extremely privileged to have an accessible polling place minutes from my dorm and to have the time needed to cast my vote. The fact that the ballot box is not as accessible to others is unacceptable and is why we must reform our system. Voting by mail addresses these issues by allowing people to fill out and return their ballot when it is convenient for them. The impact of voting by mail on turnout can be seen in Washington, Colorado and Oregon: All these states had 2016 voter turnout levels over the national average of 60.2 percent. Voting by mail also allows people the time to think about who they want to vote for. Many people are not aware of every race on the ballot and may find themselves unsure of who to vote for when they get to the polls. Voting by mail helps solve this problem by allowing voters the time to research the candidates and mull over their options before deciding. I was reminded of this fact this past week while voting online for the University of Michigan Central Student Government election. Having access to my ballot for 48 hours allowed for me to research the CSG candidates, many of whom I did not know about previously. Some may worry about the issue of voter fraud with non-inperson voting. Firstly, voter fraud is not the widespread systemic issue that some politicians want you to believe it is. Studies have shown that the overall rate of voter fraud is negligible. In many ways, mail-in voting is safer than in-person voting. Yes, it is possible that some people could submit a ballot that does not belong to them; however, in doing so they would be committing a crime and risking jail time. It is doubtful that many people would take this risk, therefore making fraud in the “vote by mail” states unlikely.

Voting by mail is safer than other types of voting because instead of machines that can break or that are potentially vulnerable to hackers, everything is done on paper. Paper cannot be hacked and leaves a trail that makes it easy for discrepancies to be addressed, ensuring the integrity of the voting results. As a pragmatist, I realize that it is unlikely that even a pandemic will make us overhaul our entire voting system. Many people love casting their ballot in person and getting their stickers and are not ready to give that up. That is why we should look for a middle ground in regards to voting by mail by expanding the use of no-excuse absentee ballots. No-excuse absentee ballots allow for any voter to vote via absentee ballot without having to provide an excuse if they can’t or don’t want to go to the polls on election day. In 2018, through Proposal 3, Michigan implemented this system, which has made voting more accessible. We saw a huge increase in the number of absentee ballots cast by mail in the March 10 primary — a true testament to what happens when voting becomes more accessible. Our current voting system is simply not working for the majority of citizens. Too many Americans do not or cannot cast their votes. Voting by mail is one of our greatest resources to help try to solve this problem. By allowing people to submit their votes through the mail we can increase civic participation in this country and give voters the time to carefully consider who they vote for. Although the coronavirus has brought the issue of voting by mail to the forefront, I hope it is viewed as a longterm solution with the potential to be implemented beyond this election cycle. Whether it is instituting no-excuse absentee voting in every state or transitioning toward the highly successful systems in place in fully vote-by-mail states, these changes can help enfranchise more people. Isabelle Schindler can be reached at ischind@umich.edu.

Grieving the loss of graduation

very time I open my closet, I glance up, look at my neatly hung cap and gown and look away in disappointment. The memories I had hoped to make wearing that outfit are only a dream now. There was something so deliriously exciting about buying that graduation attire — I remember it so clearly. But now, even looking at it makes me sigh. It’s been two and a half weeks since we seniors were told that not only are our last undergraduate classes turned remote, but our celebratory ceremony is canceled. Amid a climate of tension and the unknown, I have had to quickly say goodbye to my undergraduate career, scramble to give my last hugs and continue with my academics as if a huge rug hasn’t just been pulled out from under me. A college graduation ceremony is a rite of passage, an incredibly symbolic honor and a much-anticipated event. I now walk past a bleak and empty Law Quadrangle, wishing so desperately I had gotten my senior pictures taken earlier. I walk past my academic buildings where I had spent so many grudging moments — only to wish I had appreciated it more. I found out the news that in-person classes were canceled after having stepped out of my last one. I immediately wanted desperately to go

back and enjoy that experience one more time. There are a myriad of memories and experiences that are now unable to occur, an entire bucket list gone unchecked. With a reminder to be grateful for these past four years, I comfort myself with the opportunities I’ve been presented with at this university, the friends I’ve made and the knowledge I’ve gained. There is truly never a time that can echo this experience, and for me and thousands of others to be ripped from that closure is disheartening to say the least. I have been told repeatedly to look beyond this, beyond my own pain and see the world’s suffering. And while I am just as anxious for this trying time to pass for all of us, I would like to take a moment to grieve the loss of my graduation and all the memories that come with it. It is alright to feel heavy and disconcerted, but all the while reminding ourselves how lucky we truly are to have an experience so beautiful, which makes it hard to step away. To all my fellow graduates, I congratulate you, I mourn with you and I celebrate you. Forever, Go Blue! Dhriti Deb is a senior in the College of Literature, Science & the Arts and can be reached at dhritdeb@umich.edu.

MIN SOO KIM | COLUMN

Social media culture to the rescue?

lobal society is going through a rather confusing, and even depressing, time given the recent outbreak of COVID-19. Gov. Gretchen Whitmer recently issued a stay-at-home order for all residents of Michigan, and the University of Michigan has been strongly encouraging students to leave Ann Arbor to return to their homes. Self-quarantine has become an everyday vocabulary word. Not many of us have been through anything remotely close to what is currently happening in our lives and as we all try to understand and adapt to these circumstances, social media culture has been surprisingly helpful. TikTok and Instagram in particular are promoting self-quarantine in the most lighthearted — and therefore perhaps appropriate — way possible, and at least people are finding some entertainment while maintaining social distance. This trend of social media bringing people together in a virtual way is certainly worth our attention. TikTok is one of the fastest growing social media platforms to date, with more than 1.5 billion downloads worldwide. The Chinese video-sharing social media application is dominating the market and continuing to sweep the Generation-Z population globally off their feet with its unique filters and effects. As the pandemic stopped people from meeting their friends or reporting to work, TikTokers worldwide took advantage of this and started to create more content at home. There are more than 7 billion views on TikTok videos with “#quarantine” and the numbers are only expected to grow as the virus spreads. Most of such videos capture moments in the creators’ lives of self-quarantine and are aimed to be funny. Some videos poke fun at the online class format most universities have adopted; in one, a student presents a Barbie doll instead of their face as a form of attendance, while another has a computer graphic aurora in the background to make it look like he is in Antarctica. Another about a family enjoying creative dinners from one of their children also received millions of likes. More content like this is giving people who are actively practicing self-isolation something to laugh about in their now relatively less eventful lives. On the other hand, there are some TikToks that send a rather serious message. People from areas struck the hardest by the virus,

including Wuhan, China and various parts of Italy, created videos to let the rest of the world know how those areas were surviving and raised alarm to those who might not be taking the pandemic seriously enough. Instagram is a more familiar social media platform for many adults. Ever since the importance of self-quarantine had been emphasized by public health authorities like the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, Instagram has put forth a new trend of its own called “Stay Home.” Influencers and athletes with millions of followers started creating new at-home challenges, such as doing as many pushups as possible in one story. A good friend of mine from U-M’s club soccer team tagged me in a challenge to juggle a roll of toilet paper as if it were a soccer ball. These challenges might seem easy and simple, but as I tried multiple times to make the best “TP juggling” video, I soon realized it was one of the best workouts I had done for the past two weeks. I never went regularly to the gym during the semester but I love playing soccer and I tried my best to play for at least a couple of hours every week until the self-quarantine. Being on the verge of sweating for the first time in weeks trying to perfect the challenge reminded me how it felt to stay active. An Instagram challenge, which some might view as pointless, made me think about ways to not only stay safe but also stay healthy. It was also a good way to connect with some of my friends because I got to nominate the next five users to continue with the challenge. I never thought I would enjoy recording myself juggling toilet paper and posting it for the world to see, but I did. TikTok was created in China and Instagram is one of the most used apps worldwide. Though I have been exposed to mostly U.S.-made content, I think it is fair to assume that this trend is widespread across the entire world. Looking at people having, or at least trying to have, some fun during such confusing times was mesmerizing. Social media and its culture are not only effectively promoting self-quarantine through informative short videos and simple workout challenges, but also keeping us mentally alive with something to laugh about and friends to talk to — at least through our phones. Min Soo Kim can be reached at kiminsoo@umich.edu.

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

Arts

Wednesday, April 1, 2020 — 5A

MUSIC REVIEW

Knxwledge pushes the old school into modernity with ‘1988’ JIM WILSON

Daily Arts Writer

There’s a point in everyone’s life when they suddenly become an oldhead. Well, the act of becoming an oldhead isn’t sudden. It’s a years — even decades — long process, and its onset can be quite jarring. Say that in your younger days, you enjoyed 1990s and 2000s hip-hop a la 50 Cent, Notorious B.I.G., Missy Elliott, Jay-Z, Lil Wayne and Kanye West, but now in 2020, you find yourself repulsed by new schoolers like Lil Uzi Vert, YoungBoy Never Broke Again, Trippie Redd and Travis Scott. You only identify with new school revivalists like Dababy and YBN Cordae (BLEGH!), and you’re dying for another rapper like Kendrick Lamar (or even Kendrick himself) to show face. You might hate the new school’s maximalist, booming beats, but you hate their muddled and mumbled deliveries even more. You may even begin to find yourself looking forward to nice home-cooked breakfasts, waking up for blunted Sunday morning television sessions, and enjoying some good, old-fashioned peace and quiet. That’s when you know you’ve become an oldhead. It’s not a bad thing! It sucks, but at some point, everyone will metamorphose into the proverbial old man. This doesn’t mean you have to be a sour and jaded curmudgeon, though. The secret to gracefully becoming an oldhead is respecting, or even admiring, the sonic innovation of the new school even if you don’t necessarily enjoy it. Just take it all in stride and give it an honest try, like resident oldhead Glen Boothe. You see, Glen Boothe, better known as Knxwledge, is only 32 years old, but you wouldn’t guess it from his throwback beats. He’s a student of J Dilla and Madlib that crafts dusty yet highly nuanced loops using samples ripped from YouTube. He’s more than just a revivalist, though. In his mixtape series Wraptaypes, he lifts vocal samples from popular rap songs, processes and distorts them, then overlays the samples onto his beats to fuse the old school and the new school (these hastily-made remixes often have surprisingly good results, just listen to this charming rendition of Drake’s “God’s

Plan”). He’s truly a master of what he does, expertly and deftly placing every drum kick and sample burst. Each beat is fresh, even when his source material is anything but. He isn’t some reclusive artist who releases every once in a blue moon, either. He’s prolific. In fact, he’s released a total of I-can’t-even-count-how-many albums since 2009. His work has even landed him some impressive placements. He’s featured prominently on Kendrick Lamar’s “Momma” and has collaborated with superstars like Anderson .Paak and underground headscratchers like Mach-Hommy, Roc Marciano and Tha God Fahim. With friends like this, you’d expect his most recent major release to be a star-studded affair. Instead, Knxwledge places himself, a hermetic stoner with an affinity for Carhartt and sweatbands, at center stage on 1988, his follow-up to 2015’s outstanding Hud Dreems. He lets his off-kilter beats do the talking. He doesn’t need high-profile features to prove his talent to the world. All he needs is himself, and 1988 is proof of that. With only five of the 22 songs clocking in at over two minutes in length, 1988 is a brief affair, but it’s a deep one with plenty to dive into. Though the songs have few words, the tracklist itself tells a story and acts as a ciphered guide for listening. When decrypted, it roughly expresses: “Don’t be afraid because tomorrow’s not promised. Do you; that’s all we can do. Listen and learn how to cope with reality. You only get one, so live life. Be safe and watch who you call your homie; they come and they go. You don’t have to be gangsta all the time. Believe me, it can be so nice. Make use of the time. Make it live forever. A woman’s life is love. A man’s life is love. Keep on minding my business.” Each sentence is composed of one to three songs that are somehow related, whether it’s in the tone of the track or the style of the sample; they all culminate to form a reassuring, comforting collection of smudgy, crackling vignettes. Each segment of the album is absolutely stunning, but 1998 is truly at its best when ingested in its entirety. That’s not to say there aren’t highlights. Early standout “Do You” is a bouncy yet subdued tromp featuring countless layers of twinkling

KNXWLEDGE VIA YOUTUBE

pianos, shimmering chimes and oscillating the limited time, .Paak delivers a slick and boastful synthesizers, with a concluding sample that verse detailing his expensive lifestyle centered proclaims, “You creative like a broke bitch, man. around the line “I don’t even know how it feels [to That’s what it is, bro,” as if Knxwledge knows that be broke] anymore.” Where “Itkanbe[Sonice]” is he just cooked up something special and is giving it celebration of wealth, “Amanslifeislove_Keepon” is his seal of approval. On “Be Safe,” he starts with a both a celebration of life and a reminder to stay true brilliantly implemented sample that says, “Word up, to yourself even when it’s difficult, delivered by an you know what I’m sayin. I ain’t frontin with nobody instrumental that would be right at home on a ’90s else. You know what, Smitty gave me the word, you RnB album. Closing song “Minding_MyBusiness” know what I mean, I gotta let Knxwledge be heard” ends 1988 with a pacifying message to listeners: and then pushes into a gorgeous, reinvigorating “Why stress myself out about my life / My n*****, instrumental driven by what for? / What good is warped strings and a it gon’ do me / Ignore the trunk-rattling bassline. sunshine / I know it can He fills the track with the get ugly but you can find 1988 occasional “Yo, wassup?” the beauty in life.” or “What’s the deal, baby? So yeah, Knxwledge is Knxwledge It’s Knxwledge right an oldhead, but that doesn’t Stones Throw Record here,” seemingly from mean that he resists the Knxwledge himself. 1988 modern world. With 1988, is littered with little gems he forged 22 outstanding like these, and thanks to beats and arranged them their fleeting runtimes, in such a way that the you’ll want to listen to them again and again. project as a whole is far greater than its alreadyDespite how wonderful Knxwledge’s brief works great pieces. The project proves that Knxwledge, are, he shines brightest on full-length tracks. Take despite his music’s throwback nature, can still be “Itkanbe[Sonice],” for example. It is the only song an innovator in the game’s ultra-modern landscape. with a big-name feature on it, and it still doesn’t break Oldheads can still be on the cutting edge of music; the two-minute mark, even though the featured they don’t have to be dismissive, heckling cranks. artist is none other than Anderson .Paak. Despite Knxwledge is proof of that.

TV REVIEW

COMMUNITY CULTURE NOTEBOOK

Review: ‘Council of Dads’ My grandfather, out of coffee relationship with her old crush (shocker: they do). At the end of the episode, just months after her Daily Arts Writer father’s passing, she marries him. Any sort of tension which the episode painfully drew out was On the surface, a council of dads isn’t a bad idea. simply obliterated in the last few moments of the Reconciling with his terminal diagnosis, loving premiere. It also doesn’t help that the show itself father Scott Perry decides to form a council to is set in the absolutely gorgeous city of Savannah, guide and support his family after he’s gone. The Georgia, or that the family owns a picturesque series premiere serves as a prologue for the rest beachfront home. Or that all the friends of the of the show. “Council of Dads” is a familial tear- Perry’s are successful entrepreneurs or doctors. jerker in the same vein as “This is Us,” but where The world of “Council of Dads” and the people the latter succeeded in being a genuinely gripping who live in it are perfect, but perfection isn’t emotional rollercoaster, relatable. Shoehorning the former can’t even get a cancer diagnosis into off the ground. What’s a family isn’t going to do wrong with “Council of the dirty work of making ‘Council of Dads’ Dads” is precisely what them real people. The NBC works so well in “This show creates these is Us.” The characters. characters whose Series Premiere Namely, the characters virtues are endless, Thursdays @ 7 p.m. in “Council of Dads” are whose flaws are too just perfect, so perfect good to be true, whose in fact, that they are dilemmas are resolved unrelatable. in an instant and then Take for example, Robin (Sarah Wayne politely asks the audience to see themselves in Callies, “Prison Bream”), the matriarch of the these characters. By making these characters’ family. She’s hardworking and self-reliant. Even lives and virtues so lofty, it’s hard to see how at her husband Scott’s (Tom Everett Scott, “The anyone in the U.S. can honestly keep watching Healing Powers of Dude”) funeral, she’s bossing the show without hating themselves. Not only do people around. Her issue is, in the words of her the perfect characters make the show completely husband, she “doesn’t know how to ask for help.” disengaging, it also begs the question: Where Even her flaws sound like strengths. Another does the show go from here? example is Luly (Michelle Weaver, “Portals”), the Read more online at narrator of the first episode. Her main conflict michigandaily.com centers around dealing with her dad’s illness while engaging in a (boring) will-they-won’t-they JOSHUA THOMAS

ZOE PHILLIPS Senior Arts Editor

My grandfather has run out of coffee. Every morning, he mixes a blend of Colombian dark roast from Costco that he pours into a thermos to keep hot for the rest of the day. No milk, no cream and no sugar. Just coffee. He buys the grounds in three pound cans that will last him a few months, but right now he barely has enough for two more days. On March 17, the retirement community where he and my grandmother live locked its gates in response to the coronavirus pandemic. They cannot leave, and if they do they will not be allowed back in. Packages cannot be delivered and meals usually eaten in community spaces are dropped at residents’ doorsteps. Staff will take care of the grocery shopping. “They’ll shop tomorrow, or tomorrow afternoon,” my grandfather — I call him Granny — recently told me over the phone. “We turn our order in and I included coffee on that but it won’t be the kind of coffee that I like.” He paused. “But it’s coffee.” “Granny, how many years have you been drinking coffee?” I asked. He said it’s been since he was drafted to the Army. That was 1956 — a lot of cups of coffee ago. But it wasn’t until the 90s, when he started visiting my parents across the country in California that Granny discovered dark roast. “People here just drink weak coffee. It’s all Folgers coffee.” My grandparents live in North Carolina. They both speak with graceful

southern accents, and Granny’s voice hugs the “o” in “Folgers” as he describes his distaste for the brand: “I’d rather just have a glass of orange juice if I’m going to have weak coffee.” Regardless, my grandparents aren’t mad at the potential strong coffee shortage. They feel safe in their retirement community and respect the actions taken to protect them and their friends. The delivered meals and canceled game nights feel appropriate for the challenges at hand — both my grandparents are over 80 and neither of them can remember anything similar to COVID-19 in their lifetimes. This is what I had called them about. I can’t remember anything similar to coronavirus, but I also can’t remember 9/11, and I only have snippets of the 2008 economic crash. My database is limited — I thought Granny and Grandma might have something else to say. “The polio epidemic.” My grandparents jinxed each other, overlapping their words to answer my question. I figured they’d say that — Grandma recently told me a story about waving to her friend across the street during quarantine, unable to go out and play. The corner of my mouth had tipped into a smile; just last week I had also waved to a friend from across the street as we tried to maintain our friendship amid social distancing guidelines. Eighty years of distance between the same distancing behavior.

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michigandaily.com

Wednesday, April 1, 2020 — 6A

DAILY MIDWEST COLUMN

Midwestern tragedies and the new American ghost story MAXWELL SCHWARZ Daily Midwest Columnist

Farewell, our adopted Michiganders. Sudden virus has taken the Midwest, turned it upside down and shook the life out of it like an old piggy bank. Streets are empty. Human interaction has vanished from our lives. Memories of people hang like smoke in the room. Counting Crows once sang, “If dreams are like movies, then memories are films about ghosts.” The flat, gray expanse that is Ann Arbor is haunted by these ghosts. By you, by the Arborites holed up at home, by the gothic mythology woven into the fabric of this region. The true horror of the Midwest is the excessive generalities applied to

The true horror of the Midwest is the excessive generalities applied to it. Midwesterns are not one people.

it. Midwesterns are not one people. Michiganders and Kansans are no more Protestant and hardworking than New Englanders or Southerners. It is not all cornfields and folk tradition. The cornfields hide no monster other than the rising suicide rate among farmers. The folk traditions mask nothing besides our industrial fallout and the sharp segregation of our cities. The Midwestern identity is not one identity, but rather the quiet and torturous struggle between these competing identities. The western corners of the Midwest — Nebraska, the Dakotas, Kansas — know this pain. Take Prairie Madness: the deep isolation and torrential winds often caused prairie settlers to suffer, succumbing to depression, violence and even suicide. Some farmers still claim to hear voices in the fields. Similarly, the Midwest’s literary canon chronicles not the selfsufficient do-gooder of popular consciousness, but the trauma of isolation. Gene Wolfe’s “Peace” is one such example. Published in 1975, the novel tells the story of Andrew Weer, an elderly man in a small Midwestern town, through scattered memories and dreams. The narrator’s memories are often nonlinear, transcending both time and the traditional bounds in which memories exist. While its patience may at first seem gentle, this novel is truly harrowing.

Weer’s narration is contradictory and ambiguous. Scattered like breadcrumbs are hints of murder. It is a meditation on the danger of religiosity and the inevitability of sin. Perhaps most terrifying of all, Weer is likely dead, his narrative told by his ghost. But it is worth wondering whether he’s truly dead, or if he has always been a ghost — another Midwesterner floating through his conflicting, claustrophobic landscape. “Universal Harvester” by John Darnielle is a novel with similar disturbances. This novel tells the story of a video store clerk in 1990s Iowa. When some video tapes come back with strange clips spliced into the tape, so begins an unusual and patient tale of obsession and terror, set against the backdrop of the isolating rural landscape. People might cry out for help in cornfields, “but nobody usually hears them. A few rows of corn will muffle the human voice so effectively that, even a few insignificant rows away, all is silence,” Darnielle writes. It is, at the same time, both a reflection of belonging and grief, and a realization that the true horror of life is scattered among the daily banalities. The narrative shifts, splits, mutates. The ghost and the narrative are one and the same. While not Midwestern — it takes place in Dallas — I cannot help but return to the 2017 film, “A Ghost Story.” Starring Casey Affleck (“Manchester by the Sea”) and Rooney Mara (“The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo”), this film is heartbreaking, quiet and caustic. Affleck’s character passes away, but returns as a ghost, draped in a sheet like a child. He watches the life he knew — and his wife — slip away from him. Shots in this film are long, dragging like Affleck’s white sheet along the ground. But Affleck’s pain — one of confinement, of dormancy, of helplessness — feels pertinent and relatable for both the identityconflicted Midwestern and the quarantined alike. Affleck’s struggle to communicate and his longing for affection are poignant and understood best in this era of agonizing torpidity. The world is quieter now, hollow and overcast. Like a decrepit house come nighttime, the ghosts have come out. But they were always here. The isolation, the claustrophobia, the loneliness. Once you exit the once-crowded Ann Arbor streets, everything goes flat. Pickup trucks sag rusty in fields. Gas station lights are the only evidence of life for miles. The cornfields are alive with whispers. For those of us left in the Midwest, we again become the ghosts from which we once hid, trapped with nowhere to run in our enforced confinement. We have all become, like the Midwest, full of ghosts. So have our memories.`

statement T H E M I CH I GA N DAI LY | A PR I L 1 , 2020

ILLUSTRATION BY MICHELLE FAN

2B Wednesday, April 1, 2020 // The Statement

statement T H E M I CH I GA N DAI LY | A PR I L 1 , 2020

Managing Statement Editor Magdalena Mihaylova Deputy Editors Emily Stillman Marisa Wright Associate Editor Reece Meyhoefer

Designers Liz Bigham Kate Glad Copy Editors Madison Gagne Sadia Jiban

Photo Editor Keemya Esmael Editor in Chief Elizabeth Lawrence Managing Editor Erin White

Journaling in a crisis

y the Thursday of our first week of remote classes, I was already bored out of my mind. Time seemed no longer relevant; My days weren’t broken up by things like club meetings, office hours and trips to the dining hall. My classes were still being held at their original times, but everything else had abruptly ended. At first, I found myself filling the empty space with Netflix and YouTube videos, but they too lost their color quickly. One afternoon, out of sheer boredom, I decided to go through the bookshelf in my bedroom to see if I could find anything interesting to read. I started from the bottom shelf, which had collected a slight amount of dust since I left for college last fall. It was mostly full of books I’d read when I was younger, a large majority of them either The Boxcar Children or Magic Tree House. For some time, I sat there, studying the remnants of my childhood until I came across a stack of brightly colored spiralbound notebooks — my old journals. I first started journaling when I was little. My parents had encouraged me to write so I could improve my handwriting. One of my first notebooks dates as early as 2005, which means I would have been around age five. I wrote very simply — I listed how I was feeling at the time of writing and why, like “Today is Monday and I feel happy!” — accompanied by a self-drawn “Sketch of the Day.” In other entries, I decided not to write about myself; In a rainbow-colored notebook from 2008, I’d chosen to write about a cool glitter pen I’d found. A couple pages later, I told a story about a made-up princess. My journal entries varied in length, too. For example, one simply reads, “In a few days it will be my birthday!” while an entry a few pages before it reads, “Dear Diary, I am bored!” and then details exactly why for three whole pages. Regardless of the length or simplicity of the entries in my journals, it was clear that journaling was something I enjoyed doing. In many of the notebooks, there seemed to be an entry for nearly every day. Without fail, I had taken the time out of my day to write, reflect or say whatever else I wanted. By the sixth grade, with tennis and orchestra keeping me busy, I was starting

BY CHELSEA PADILLA, STATEMENT COLUMNIST

to fall out of practice, and by high school, I’d dropped it entirely, with most of my time devoted to academics and extracurriculars. While my life was certainly full of more things I could’ve written about or worked through — crushes, failed assignments, disagreements with friends — it felt like there was just no time. My social life filled the gaps when I might’ve had time to write, and without my journals, I found myself feeling overwhelmed at times. Not only did I yearn for the ability to write down and reflect on my thoughts but I also missed the sheer art of journaling. To me, there had always been something relaxing in the act: It was comforting to write with a nice pen and see my thoughts unfolded before me in ink. Toward the latter half of high school, I attempted to restart my habit, a big motivator being the rise of the self-care movement. Journaling, thanks to its potential ment al and physical health benefits, became a staple of self-care — and in the midst of it all, the bullet journal surged to popularity. It’s very easy to see the appeal of bullet journaling, a practice in which one numbers their journal pages, creates an index and organizes their tasks, calendars and weekly logs from there. With one quick search on Google Images, you’re faced with a plethora of notebook pages covered in beautiful cursive letters, neatly written to-do lists and weekly schedules. In my eyes, the sheer amount of organization that went into a single bullet journal was both aesthetically pleasing and something to be envied. But, even after I did some research, which basically consisted of me skimming through articles and watching bullet journal setup videos on YouTube, I never successfully started my own bullet journal. While I definitely wanted to, I couldn’t bring myself

ILLUSTRATION BY NOAH FINER

to actually plan a whole notebook out. To be honest, I think I found the “aesthetic” part of bullet journaling too intimidating, too much of a commitment. Instead, I tried another method: digital journaling. After typing those two words into my search bar, I came upon an article titled, “Think you’re too busy to journal? These apps let you do it on the go,” which detailed a list of five journal apps for iOS and Android. Journaling apps seemed like the perfect solution to everything I wanted — I wouldn’t have to set anything up if an app already did it for me. It seemed more efficient. An app on a phone, after all, is the epitome of efficiency. I could already see myself writing entries as I waited for orchestra practice to start. After trying several of the apps suggested in the article, I still wasn’t satisfied. Typing away on a phone, while quick and easy, didn’t feel the same as journaling. Not only was it a bit strange to not have a physical journal to write in, but it completely lacked the intimacy of handwriting. As far as I know, there is no digital way of accurately recreating the feeling of pressing pen to paper.

Until I came across my old notebooks, I hadn’t thought about journaling in a while. As I sat in my bedroom flipping through pages, home from college two months early because of a global pandemic, I realized that now more than ever would be the best opportunity for me to start again. In the middle of this sudden, chaotic crisis, writing down my feelings and thoughts could be one of the best ways to mentally process the situation we’re all experiencing. Now, a new notebook sits on my bedside table. It’s a far cry from the colorful notebooks of my childhood: It’s a pale cream color with an exposed spine and softcover. I started it very recently. Its organization is practically nothing compared to a bullet journal. Instead, most of its entries are a stream of consciousness — all of my joys and sorrows bundled together in threaded binding. Each time I pick up the notebook, its pages still mostly empty, I feel no pressure to draw in colorful headers or write in neat, organized lines. I just write, with a simple black pen, and let the thoughts tumble from my brain and onto the page.

Lessons from a whiteboard

Wednesday, April 1, 2020 // The Statement 3B 3B

BY SOLOMON MEDINTZ AND MATT HARMON, STATEMENT CONTRIBUTORS Solomon and Matt are roommates. As roommates, they typically only see each other in the morning, maybe in between classes and before bed. However, COVID-19 said “LOL” and they have been shut together in their apartment for three weeks. These pieces, one by each roommate, were written in whatever fraction of isolation they could find on opposite sides of their shared living room.

olomon: My biggest pet peeve is people using the idiom “It’s a small world.” It is often used to describe how privileged worlds overlap with one another (in my experience, the intersection of coastal Jews and the University of Michigan), rather than the actual size of the world. I have delivered PowerPoint presentations on the subject many times. But since we began social distancing, I have begun using the phrase unironically. Matt and I were randomly assigned as roommates in South Quad Residence Hall. Though our beds were four feet apart then, we have never lived as close together as we do now. Our world has literally become the size of our apartment, our rooms separated only by the staple room [EDIT: Clarify? What does “separated only by the staple room” mean?] of college houses — where one lives, dines and exists — and the kitchen whose full sink greets us every morning. As a result, we have perhaps learned more about one another in the past three weeks than we ever had, and are figuring out how to exist in a non-stop friendship. Three weeks ago, on the first day of social distancing, I brought a 2x4 whiteboard (formerly for our other roommate’s physics homework and personal account balance) out to the living room and nailed it to the wall. I was excited about it because I like making elaborate plans, and wanted to have agency over our future routines. Matt seemed skeptical, sitting on the couch as I divided up the board into the sections that would define our life. However, since then, it has become a mainstay of our life. I titled the boxes on the upper-right corner “What are you?”, initially as a joke, but I quickly realized it was actually fitting. Our boxes show how we want to spend quarantine, our idealized vision for this unexpected time in our lives. Matt has continuously redone his box to reflect his biggest projects, including GarageBand exploration, Minecraft time limits for the day and to “finish the fucking play.” I have not erased anything from my section, which has progressively gotten fuller, explicitly laying out my aspirational basic daily plan (meditation, working out, journaling, etc.) and the long-term projects I have not started (clearing space off of my iPhone 5, research ideas and cooking adventures). It’s not just “What are you?” that uncovers our internal desires. We have

connected more with every new communal section. Matt has taken ownership over the “Intellectual Flexing” section, where we write down the titles of the books we have read since we began isolating. Two weeks in, and he is already at five. (Buoyed by his rapid reading rate, he has since launched a bookstagram to literally no one’s surprise.) My favorite section is “Principles,” where we lay out a mini-constitution to guide how we are supposed to share the space. To little surprise, the principles have not been followed, either because they were impossible to accomplish (“Give space”) or because they risk unsettling the equilibrium we have established (“Air grievances”). Our other, notably not Jewish, roommate has taken to chronicling the time we spend here by creating a new calendar system oriented around Shabbat dinner. Even in communal spaces, we have charted our own territories. I thought quarantine would strain our friendship by revealing all the ways in which our personalities are incompatible and how our interests do not overlap. To some extent, that has been true: I am not going to play Minecraft or Mario Kart, our band practice sessions have not really gotten off the ground and our sleep schedules remain out of sync. Yet, instead of just emphasizing how we are different, we are learning to coexist only as the most honest versions of ourselves. Quarantine has shown a more confident version of Matt than I have ever experienced before. He has been able to take our lifestyle change in stride, still waking up early to read, abiding by his whiteboard goals and remaining deliberate. I have not had the same smooth transition. Without my usual stimuli of meetings and events, I anxiously await new full-length soccer games getting posted on YouTube and continue to cook without any big-picture vision — just assembling vegetables, carbs and some flavor in any combination. It has made me think about the difference between quarantine friendships and those we are used to. In most friendships, I have an escape route, but not here. I cannot take a break from Matt or my other roommate for a day. It has forced me to reveal the parts of my personality I usually reserve for myself, like my addiction to soccer media and inability to stay focused or fix broken items around the apartment. These details that may fall under the radar during the hectic pace of our everyday now are seen and felt. Our situation’s inescapability has also forced a level of honesty that is often hard to reach in masc friendships (friendships between masculine-identifying people). We are working on being more consistently honest with one another, airing out our grievances and asking for feedback. Without the ability to get the kind of

emotional support we get from other parts of our lives in our normal lives, we have had to do more for one another than we used to. I don’t want to think about how COVID19 will impact my future, be it from worse job prospects or loved ones lost, so instead I am looking for quarantine’s silver linings. I know how lucky I am to be able to stay in Ann Arbor with Matt and my other roommates, and together we are learning how to share ourselves with minimal presentation or performance. Even after living together for almost two years, we are just now learning to coexist.

att: Dressed in presentable tops and less-presentable bottoms for virtual class, Solomon and I stare up at the whiteboard hanging in our living room. Our daily to-do lists, goals for the week, list of movies to watch and an elaborate time-keeping system revolving around communal meals and our aloe plant photoshoot schedule adorn its scuffed canvas. Meant to give our quarantined lives order, the whiteboard has since become another roommate, a projection of our cramped, hectic thoughts in this apartment. “So what’s the order this week?” Solomon asks with an Expo marker bouncing between his fingers. The recycled air that has been hanging in our living room since March 11 is filled with a mix of serious contemplation and nihilism. “I think I did well. Read some books, started an essay,” I offer in the silence. Solomon acquiesces and writes my name at the top of the “Who’s Winning Quarantine” list. Part of me is ashamed of trying too hard. Another is proud of my powering through the anxiety surrounding the state of the world and actually maintaining a semblance of my past schedule. I don’t quite remember when the list appeared. It should be easy to recall a moment like this from the past two weeks. However, two weeks can feel like years when you spend every waking moment — and sometimes sleeping ones, if our nap times align — with the same person. Before the United States began taking COVID-19 as seriously as it should have been months ago, we would share the highs and lows of our days if our paths happened to cross. Now, our daily highs, lows and the many shades in between are on full display without the need for a nightly debrief. Even in our rooms, I know if Solomon is on one of his many daily BlueJeans calls or if he’s doing laundry just from the small noises that leak throughout our apartment. Our to-do lists are under a microscope in quarantine. Our new, two-dimensional roommate, looming over our living room, was supposed to maintain a sense of balance in our day-to-day. Instead, the

ILLUSTRATION BY LAUREN KUZEE

whiteboard has become hell-bent on pitting our schedules against one another to see who is making the most of what everyone considers to be a shitty situation. Luckily, Solomon and I have been able to resist the temptation to compare our whiteboard schedules. During quarantine, I’ve embodied the full spectrum — from barely getting out of bed to planning my schedule minute-by-minute. Each day begins with a roll of the dice: Would crossing tasks off the whiteboard or making cup after cup of coffee and curling up with a book make me fulfilled today? I’m so thankful to have a roommate that greets me with a “I’m so proud of you” no matter what decision I make. I try to do the same. I do this to be a supportive partner in this quarantine dream but also to show our whiteboard roommate it’s our quarantine and we get to choose the coping mechanisms. Solomon once wrote an opinion piece for this fine journalistic establishment about “The Grind” and our tendency to valorize being busy. Since our world is our living room for the foreseeable future, I’m learning to live über-communally without comparing myself to Solomon’s levels of productivity. Everyone and their cousins are writing think-pieces on what they think the world is going to look like when we reach the end of the COVID-19 tunnel. I will not add to this cacophony. However, I do hope that when social distancing is a by-gone practice, I take my personal wants instead of outward expectations into account when planning my day. I have a long way to go, but if there’s one thing we both share the most, it’s time.

Solomon Medintz is a senior studying Philosophy, Politics and Economics and is a former Opinion Columnist on the Daily. He can be reached at smedintz@umich.edu. Matt Harmon is a senior studying International Studies and Playwriting and is a former Statement Deputy Editor. He can be reached at mcharm@umich.edu.

The quiet revolution: introverts at U-M 4B Wednesday, April 1, 2020 // The Statement

Wednesday, April 1, 2020 // The Statement 5B

BY HANNAH BRAUER, STATEMENT COLUMNIST

hink about the last time you interrupted someone during class. I won’t judge. Was it because they were taking too long to finish their thought? Did you think of a better argument and decide to jump in? Were you simply asking them to speak louder? Now, think about the last time someone interrupted you. Did it bother you? Did you want to call them out, but were too afraid to speak up? When you tried to speak again, did you forget what you were going to say? If the first set of questions resonated with you more, it’s possible you’re an extrovert. If the second set of questions felt truer to you, it’s possible you’re an introvert. Though you might think you’re fully an “ambivert,” a mixture of these two traits, you probably do lean toward one side or another. It depends on if you get your energy from alone time or social interaction. For me, I’ve always been more introverted. My parents caught onto this early in my childhood, though I admit it was pretty obvious — while my brother’s biggest fear was the dark, mine was talking to adults. But who could blame me? Every distant relative and family friend would tower over me, ask how old I was and expect me to say something cute or witty. I usually gave one-word answers and avoided eye contact. During holidays and dinner parties, I always had to escape to my room for a few minutes alone after every hour of socializing. Growing up, I spent most of my time in my bedroom. Knowing this, my parents wouldn’t send me to my room as a punishment and instead told me to sit on the stairs as a “time-out.” It was agony, so close to the safety of my room yet completely vulnerable to interacting with anyone who decided to walk past me. It was forced social interaction. Maybe the possibility of this punishment was why I was so wellbehaved. As I’ve gotten older, the amount of forced interactions has grown exponentially. I can’t live peacefully in my room anymore: I have to finish my extracurriculars, group projects and presentations before I can have my alone time. Adulthood is beginning to feel like one big networking event. Like most introverts, I find myself deciding if I should over-exert myself at social events or stay at home and disappoint people by canceling on them.

It’s a fine line because, even when I do socialize, I’m often interrupted or not taken seriously because I don’t speak much. When I stay in my bedroom for the night, my friends think I don’t want to spend time with them. There seems to be no right answer. In her book, “Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can’t Stop Talking,” author and psychologist Susan Cain traces our extrovert-centric culture to the early 20th century, when Dale Carnegie and other businessmen began their ascent to success through public speaking and sales. As consumerism grew, the more our culture shifted toward selling the appearance of a product, which quickly translated into personality as well. While smaller businessmen and farmers once valued “inner quality” over “outer quality,” when louder personalities entered the scene with bigger voices and bigger ideas, they took hold and became mainstream. As companies grew, the American ideal for success matched their faces: it doesn’t matter what you’re selling, it’s how you sell it — and if you sell yourself well, you’ll be successful. Today, our society is centered around this ideal, so identifying as one of the quiet ones isn’t exactly something to call attention to. Many introverts find themselves “pretending” to be extroverts, as I have done in my time working in corporate America, waiting for the release of alone time in the bathroom between meetings or on my commute home. Though this extrovert norm may feel natural in the United States, other cultures don’t all function like ours — other nations have more introverted norms like independence, while the United States is among the most extrovert-centric. Open floor plans, required participation grades and large social circles fuel our capitalist society, equating sociability and stage presence with success. In her book, Cain goes on to cite the University of Michigan Ross School of Business and its push toward group projects and constant collaboration to promote extrovert tendencies. She calls this idea the “New GroupThink,” or the mainstream preference of collaborative work over individual work. She goes on to mention that solitude can be the clearest path to efficiency and innovation, particularly pointing to the top computer scientists, musicians and

college students who always prioritize working individually. Still, business schools are weaving social skills into their degree requirements, taking a cue from Carnegie and other businesspeople of his time. (For the record, I’ve been searching for years and still have never met an introvert in Ross. Let me know if you find one. I want to talk.) Though it may not be to the same extent, the rest of the University sets itself up as an extroverted school where the “Leaders and the Best” — or maybe “loudest and the best” is more fitting — are constantly connecting. Students are heavily encouraged to go to office hours and may find themselves without letters of recommendation if they are too socially anxious to do so. Grades will suffer if students do not speak up frequently during class. As I’ve written about before in The Daily, career fairs are often framed as mandatory and the only way to find a job post-grad. In a place where many students feel like they’re not doing enough, introverts face the same pressures but often have less social energy to keep up with everyone else. To an extrovert, the introvert’s dilemma may be a simple fix. “Can’t you just go up to someone and start talking to them?” they might ask, or “Shouldn’t everyone get a rush from going to a party?” This might be a good time to point out that people don’t “choose” to be an introvert; as Cain cites in her book, it’s been psychologically proven that acetylcholine is more active in introverts’ brains, which gives them pleasure from remaining calm and focusing on one thing for a long time. To contrast, dopamine is more active in extroverts’ brains which provides the motivation to seek external rewards like earning money and climbing the social ladder. Cain also points out the contrasting effects of these neurotransmitters on the brain: Introverts are more likely to share private information online because of the removed social cues. Extroverts are often more impulsive. Introverted babies are often the ones that cry, not extroverts, because they’re more reactive and have a lower threshold for stimuli. Other species have introverts

and extroverts that find specific habitats to suit their personality, such as “sitter” fruit flies that tend to stay in one place and “rover” fruit flies that tend to explore more. Curious about the effects of this personality difference on the University community, I met with four students who identify as introverts, each at various points in their college careers, and asked about how they’re managing to thrive despite the pressures of hustle culture.

n early March, just a week before classes were moved online, I met with LSA senior Alexandra Niforos (she/her) at the Michigan League. She was sitting by herself doing work in Maizie’s Kitchen & Market before I arrived. As an executive producer for MUSKET, the largest student-run musical theatre organization on campus, she had been working nonstop for the past few

weeks preparing for their upcoming production. I imagine her Google Calendar was completely filled with meetings and rehearsals. Based on her schedule, you might not have guessed Niforos is an introvert. In fact, she even chose her major, English, based on its level of introversion, recognizing that her need for alone time conflicted with her love for musical theatre. “I actually wanted to apply to SMTD, but decided not to because I don’t thrive in performance,” she said. “That world

is too extroverted for me, so I like dictating things from the administrative side (through MUSKET).” Though Niforos is often energized by spending time with friends or producing a show, she always reaches a limit with these interactions. Some situations may be quicker to exhaust her than others, but she always hits a point when she needs to go home. “Ideally, I would spend 50 percent of

my time alone,” she said. “But I never get that.” When I asked why not, she scoffed, “Because I do a million and one things!” Niforos lamented the pressure of being successful in college, which includes going to classes (although she has purposefully never taken a course that includes the phrase “group project” in the description) and having an impressive resume. She does enjoy being productive and made clear that she only involves herself in what she’s passionate about, but even her passions

To cope with the pressure, Niforos said she does spend equal time recovering after intense social interaction. For example, by taking a week off after an intensive week finishing a MUSKET production. Sanjay Das (he/him), a U-M alumnus with a degree in biomolecular science and current medical student at Central Michigan University, expressed a similar sentiment to Niforos in needing equal recovery time to interaction time. “If I go through a period of extrovertedness, I then have to go through a phase of introvertedness,” Das told The ILLUSTRATION BY MICHELLE FAN Daily in a phone interview. “I do prefer to be more in an introverted zone, because every day I feel like I have only a certain amount of social battery charge.” As a freshman at the University, Das did what many introverts would probably avoid — he joined Beta Theta Pi, a social fraternity. Rather than being burned out by constant social interaction, however, Das noted that the fraternity helped him make friends as an introvert. “Actually, the only thing that made the University bearable was Beta Theta Pi,” he said. Throughout his time as a pre-med student, Das constantly felt the need to be productive, which conflicted with his introversion and left him feeling burned out. “I just thought, ‘I have to take this extra class or stay extra hours in the lab just to put myself in a more advantageous place for when I apply to medical school,’” he said. Now in medical school, he’s hoping to become a surgeon or incorporate research into his leave her in desperate need of alone career to make more time for solitude time. Yet, it’s difficult to clear the time within his work. in her day for it. Though Das has found great success “I don’t know, it just seems selfish through his introversion, he also to prioritize (solitude),” she said. “It’s believes extroversion is necessary hard to say that I need an hour at home for the medical field and often finds because that’s not socially acceptable. himself assuming those who are social I just feel this pressure all the time to are the most successful. He noted his adapt to a world that doesn’t fit (my) University experience would have been personality style and the way of being easier had he not been introverted. my best self.” “If I were an extrovert, I wouldn’t

have avoided stuff because it was too far out of my comfort zone,” he said. “I think I would have gotten more out of U-M, since I felt shell-shocked with everything that was going on.” Parker Kehrig (they/them), an LSA sophomore studying sociology and women’s studies, is also dealing with a University culture that values productivity and extroversion. Kehrig and I are from the same competitive hometown, Grosse Pointe, so I related to a lot of their points. Our interview in the Shapiro Undergraduate Library ended up being a lot louder than one would expect from two introverts. “I just think there’s a certain amount of extroversion that’s expected here, with an emphasis on networking and party culture,” they said. “There’s this idea at ‘top-tier’ universities that everyone has to be running all the time and if you’re not running, you’re failing ... If you don’t pass out, you’re not working hard enough.” Kehrig pointed out the relationship between this productivity mindset and capitalism, which leads one to think that missing out on anything is turning down a valuable opportunity. Because Kehrig wants to get into graduate school and make a living wage, they said they have to buy into this mindset somewhat and load up their schedule. When asked about their schedule this semester, they responded, “I’m taking 16 credits, working at Spectrum Center, helping with a UROP project about criminalization confinement, and participating in the Telluride House.” As a result, there are times when the fear of missing out, or FOMO, keeps Kehrig from getting enough alone time to recharge. They also experience anxiety, which exacerbates their introverted tendencies and often makes it difficult to focus in public spaces. “If I wasn’t so anxious, maybe I would be more extroverted,” they said. “Sometimes I do have to leave a function when I’m not in the right headspace, but I also can’t cancel … (because) I have FOMO.” Kehrig still made it clear that they love spending time with people and making new friends, they just need to balance their social life with their alone time to avoid becoming overwhelmed. Trevor McCarty (he/him), a graduate student in the School for Environment and Sustainability (SEAS) who received his bachelor’s in Biopsychology, Cognition and Neuroscience, mirrored

similar feelings as Kehrig in his sociability. McCarty reached out to me a few months ago to respond to my first Daily article about introversion, recognizing the similarities between us, and I was intrigued by his confidence in cold-emailing a stranger. We met at Amer’s Delicatessen for an interview in early March. McCarty reiterated that introversion doesn’t mean you don’t like being around people, it means you need a recuperation period afterward because it takes energy. “People think introversion is synonymous with shyness and there are probably correlations, but it’s not the same thing,” he said. “I’m very expressive with my friends. And I actually do really well in both collaborative and individual learning spaces, I think learning with people is better.” McCarty compared the introversion and extroversion of his undergraduate program with his graduate program, which offered him different outlets for socializing. “BCN is so big that you can just be a fly on the wall — I just went to class then came home and did my homework,” he said. “SEAS is much smaller than most undergrad programs and lends itself to people socializing outside of class. Being an extrovert is definitely better there because you can connect easier with a wider variety of people.” McCarty is studying climate adaptation and resilience, focusing on a framework that will allow communities to adapt in the face of climate change. Because McCarty is so passionate about his work, he said that it’s easy to talk to people who are interested in the same thing as him, even though big program events can be draining. McCarty has never been ashamed of his introversion and rather sees it as a way to find “the spaces that make (him) feel the most (himself).” Because of his positive outlook on introversion, McCarty wishes others valued it more. “As a child, I felt like I had to get out of my shyness, like I was thrown into the water and couldn’t swim,” he said. “That seems wrong … We need to have a society where extroversion is not seen as the default, where we cultivate the kind of value that can be gained from introverts.”

Read more at MichiganDaily.com

Wednesday, April 1, 2020 // The Statement

Finding peace in the Mitsubishi BY ELI RALLO, STATEMENT COLUMNIST

n March of 2019, my younger brother Jack and I found ourselves shoulder to shoulder on an itchy cot in the lemon-scented, linoleum-tiled hallway of the University of Michigan emergency room. He assured me for the umpteenth time that I was fine, but the sharp pain in my chest told me otherwise. Jack’s pragmatic mind knew enough about my history of anxiety and hypochondria to know that I was suffering from a panic attack, and not heart failure, but he sat patiently beside me for the five enduring hours. He stayed there, empathetic, until my vitals were declared perfect, my chest clear and I was handed a blue-grey inhaler for “exercise-induced asthma” and a bubblegum pink discharge slip. There’s one word to describe my brother, a first-year pre-med student: sensible. He acts with realism and quietude. He’s easygoing, down-to-earth and erudite. Going to school on the same campus as my brother Jack is uncomplicated and bright; he has an inherent impulse to put others at ease.

PHOTO COURTESY OF ELI RALLO

This is why Jack didn’t object to the 10-and-a-half hour drive we had to endure together from Ann Arbor, Michigan to Fair Haven, New Jersey, when University President Mark Schlissel urged students to go home to avoid further exposure to the rapidly spreading COVID-19. For all of college, we had never driven to or from New Jersey: It was too long of a drive, mostly on open highways, which triggered my anxiety. There was, then, a sentimentality to the departure, and its intangible ironies. The last time leaving Ann Arbor as an undergraduate student would be nestled among a first. After bartering with my parents to stay in Ann Arbor for a few more days before leaving, so I could give my goodbyes to hulking buildings and people who have impacted my journey in immeasurable ways, we rented a 2018 silver Mitsubishi. As it drew closer to when I had to leave town, I treated every goodbye as a “see you soon” and pushed sentimentality from my mind as if it had no place there. Pathetic

fallacy welcomed sorrow to the array of emotions I was feeling as it poured rain my entire last day in Ann Arbor. I packed the backseat of the car with trash bags of greypurple bedding, boxes of faded The Michigan Daily newspapers and suitcases bursting with heavy sweaters and rainbow scarves. In my chest lived an unnerving cocktail of isolation and desolation. I’d never felt so without a home before, as I did now, being uprooted from Michigan, a place where I had learned, lost and grown: I started college with long hair, pink bedding and dreams of sorority houses and fraternity boys, and I ended with short, chin-length hair, a lack of Greek life affiliation and a deep-seated passion for writing poems and telling stories. I knew it would never truly feel like the right time to leave Michigan, but there definitely is a wrong time. There I was, standing in front of a rental car packed with my entire life, seven weeks before the closure that was supposed to make a semi-sweet goodbye feel, at the very least, conventional. That’s why, as I got into the driver’s seat of that same overpacked Mitsubishi the next morning, a road trip playlist titled “It is 100% Coronatime” playing softly in the background, I focused on our drive and destination — not the departure. The plan was for Jack and me to split the drive in half. We spent the first five hours of the drive on a road trip euphoria. We laughed and reminisced, telling one another stories about the questions smartass kids asked in humid lecture halls, roommates that go to Chipotle for brunch every Sunday, sweaty parties full of theater majors where something ironically dramatic happened and the idiosyncratic people we’d left behind. We listened through the Camp Rock 1 and 2 soundtracks and sang along to Bruce Springsteen songs. There was strange tranquility as I drove down Ohio’s stretch of I-80, sipping on a Dunkin’ Donuts coffee. After a while, we just drove quietly, both lost in thought. ack began begging me to drive once it hit noon. At 1:30 p.m., I pulled into the nearest gas station. Jack filled the gas while I got into the passenger seat, both glad he was to drive the rest of the way. We ate yogurt-covered pretzels and sang along to the Hamilton soundtrack for the first half-hour that he sat behind the wheel. The Pennsylvania highway began to empty of cars and fill with thick, foggy air. At 2 p.m., an aunt of ours who we hadn’t spoken to in a while called. She wanted to see how the drive was, and perhaps, subliminally, make us feel some strain of guilt for not leaving Ann Arbor five days earlier. She went on for 20 minutes about what her family had been doing to quarantine, referencing terrible stories of people in New Jersey who’d passed away due to the virus.

“Have you been social distancing at school?” She asked, poking around for information about Ann Arbor, where the first few cases had begun to pop up just as we pulled away from campus. “Uh … sort of, I mean, things were just starting to close when we left. We said goodbye to our friends,” I said, trying to understand why it was important to her. I didn’t know what to say, feeling suddenly guilty, even though every goodbye was from a distance — light taps of our sweatshirt-covered elbows. “Well, what’s your plan when you get home? What have your parents been doing?” My brother and I shared a muddled glance. When we finally hung up, dread and apprehension hung in the air-conditioned car that hadn’t before. s we continued driving, I noticed that Jack had been coughing and yawning for the bulk of the drive. I knew this wasn’t abnormal for him, as he’d been on allergy medication since he was a toddler and sometimes his symptoms come back when he forgets to take it. “Have you been taking your meds?” I asked. “No,” he answered, yawning and focusing on the road. “Do you think you should tell mom and dad you’re coughing then? So they can refill your meds or something — you don’t want them to freak out,” I said cautiously, noticing him yawn again. “Maybe,” he said, yawning and coughing again. He’d told me he went to bed at 2:30 a.m. the morning before we left, and I figured his impending exhaustion and the intermittent bursts of coughing would distract him from the road, which was growing foggier as we found ourselves deeper in Pennsylvania. “Pull over,” I said, referencing a wide shoulder off the highway. “I think I should drive. You’re tired and you seem distracted.” Without any sort of argument or rebuttal, he pulled over onto the shoulder. That’s when I sensed something could be wrong — an edge of anxiety rising in my chest. Though I normally worry relentlessly about everyone I care about, this time I suppressed the urge and focused on being responsible, nurturing and cautious. Jack went relatively silent for the next 90 minutes and I tried to keep my leg from cramping to drive with ease. I figured he was tired. I glanced in the mirror, eventually, and met his eyes. I know my brother, and I can see it in his face when something is wrong.

Read more at MichiganDaily.com

I hate the word “hate”

Wednesday, April 2020////The The Statement 7B 7B Wednesday, January 16,1,2019 Statement

BY MAXWELL BARNES, STATEMENT CONTRIBUTOR

spend enough time with someone, you eventually realize they’re not really so terrible, and it’s harder to full-heartedly hate them. But if you actively choose not to encounter them, it’s easier to let your mind run wild, creating feelings and ideas and memories that might make it easier to hate the person. Despite all these experiences, I can’t honestly say I’ve ever “hated” anyone. But it would be unfair to myself and my experienced emotions to move these people from the “dislike” side of my brain to the “like” side as if it were nothing. I’m fighting against a human instinct to want to separate individuals into mental boxes of good and bad. I definitely have friends who have no problem separating individuals into categories with varying degrees of hate: This person is on my side, but this person did me wrong. This friend from graduate school can come to the wedding. This family member can’t see ILLUSTRATION BY MAGGIE WIEBE my baby. When we initially see someone as different than us, the ave you ever hated someone? If so, did you feel it consume or distract you? Did it eat away at your amygdala region of the brain affiliated with fear begins to thoughts in the hours before falling asleep or spike. Our emotions can be unknowingly validated by our as you daydreamed in class? Did you avoid going to certain brain if those fears are substantiated by a negative interaction. places or partaking in certain activities because you knew As negative feelings toward someone increase, our fight-orflight instincts become the only way to deal with such a large that person would be present? Most of us have or will hate someone else in our lives. Hate irritant. But people’s actions are more gray and less two-sided appears in many forms, from hating entire groups of people than what our primal social instincts want to let on. Everyone down to individuals. It is an intense and raw emotional has someone who loves them, but everyone has their own state that requires focus, energy and dedication. If you faults. Most people claim to be for civil rights, but nobody is actively choose to say you hate someone, you have to really born woke. People contain multitudes. Whether you’re an ideological extremist or just a normal concentrate on how and where your hate is being directed. The strange, fluid nature of human hatred leads me to person learning how to navigate the world, learning how frequently wonder if anyone out in the world is brooding to un-hate — or recognize hate in the first place — can be a around, hating me. It’s an unhealthy concept to dwell upon, difficult process. I feel the bumps of this journey myself: I know I have to learn to accept that no matter how hard I but I’m a curious person by nature. The only story of substance I ever received about being might try to appease everyone, some people in my own life truly hated by someone was told to me from a friend in will just dislike me. But what about the people who claim to middle school. In the seventh grade, her friend started hating hate me? What about my actions caused them to cross the line me because I did not apologize after letting a loose basketball between general distaste to focused, meaningful hate? Was it hit her in the face. I distinctly remember asking if she was a moment of carelessness that they chose to remember? Was it a habit that I didn’t have the perspective to correct? Was I OK, but I guess I didn’t say “sorry.” Hindsight is 20/20, and I definitely should’ve been smarter sexist? Too political? Flat-out annoying? Learning to let go of those worries is a difficult and apologized. Children can be petty, but was that one moment of being unapologetic enough for me to be perceived commitment. In time, you may begin to realize how letting as the villain in another’s eyes? Can a single moment of neglect go of anger makes it easier to embrace love; not necessarily forever define how you can be viewed by someone? Surely, the romantic kind of love, but the fraternal kind as well. There’s a similar relationship with hate that exists with there are countless times where I was painfully singled out in middle school dodgeball, but I can’t claim that those who the concept of love. The two emotional states, love and hate, threw those rubber balls at my own head were my enemies. rest on placing people, objects and ideas into subjective Though childhood hatred is a natural aspect of growing up, categories — black and white binaries of good and bad. Both hate and love requires care and some sort of reasoning for feelings of contempt can permeate into adulthood. Looking back, I’ve definitely disliked people before. A why you choose to treat that person, thing or abstract thought physics teacher who never called me by my full first name. differently than others. Does the sight of your grandmother’s An ex-girlfriend who didn’t like it when I danced in public. empty rocking chair bring up intense, confusing emotions? Some colleagues after a fallout about work. A family member, Even if your feelings are mixed, you might have to resort to maybe for a day or two. Individuals in college with whom I either “loving” it or “hating” it due to colloquial constraints. desperately wanted to be friends, only they didn’t give me In the end, the only difference in how strongly one feels the time of day only because I didn’t go to the same church regarding their love versus their hate is that hatred is much easier to practice. as them. Another aspect that links love and hate is how their usage Over time, I questioned whether outright avoiding confrontation with those whom I dislike would eventually in the English language has evolved superficially. From just lead me down a deep road to truly hating them. If you an idiomatic standpoint, “hate” is a word that is thrown

around pretty loosely among young people. It has become so entrenched in our hyperbolic descriptions of the world that after a while, it kind of loses its meaning. I hate kale. I hate going to the gym. I hate Donald Trump. The word’s own substance dissipates when it’s used to equally describe one’s feelings toward a bitter salad base and the leader of the free world. The blurred lines of defining our distaste for petty misdeeds come in tandem with the limitations of the English language. There are very few ways to express a strong dislike without coming across as explicit or serious. If you look up the word “hate” on thesaurus.com, chances are you’ll find that the synonyms that come up come across as far too pompous and bombastic for daily usage. Hate becomes one of the softest words in its own category. You could mention that you dislike something. You dislike school. You dislike a particular restaurant. But if you dislike something more than normal, how do you articulate that feeling? You’d prefer not to eat at Quiznos? That sounds even weirder. Your resentment has to come across as stronger if you want to make a point. Would you tell others that you loathe hummus? Do you hold hummus in animosity? No, you simply resort to telling people you hate hummus out of the simplicity that we’ve associated with the word. There will never be a time in life where you won’t have to deal with difficult people. It’s a truth most will have to learn the hard way by virtue of simply growing up, through first heartbreaks, being on the e-board of a club or trying to start out at a job. However, there lies trouble with how we use the word “hate” in our vernacular and usage: If we use such a powerful word so frequently, it will only diminish its meaning where it’s needed most. In addition to lessening our fundamental understandings of hate speech and hate crimes, we numb ourselves to the emotional weight that a word like “hate” carries. If our perception of hate becomes so skewed, we’ll be unable to recognize the truly perverse and evil kinds of hate that seek to pull us apart. The most important concept to grasp in learning to let go of anger is learning to acknowledge your ego. Hatred often arises when we have been wronged in a way that lowers our self-esteem. We want to protect ourselves by projecting emotions on others. What steps can I take to ensure there are no “me versus them” mentalities lingering along in my subconscious? I don’t intend to proclaim I’ve figured out how to stop hating; nobody has. Even though I’m able to boast about not personally hating anyone, I desperately crave the mental capacity to open up and become aware of what I may still be overlooking. I think we can all take small steps forward to improve our understanding of hatred and how our casualization of language might end up hurting it. We come to college to challenge our ideas and assumptions, and more importantly, to grow through thought. But how do we begin to recognize when we might find ourselves putting groups into boxes? How can I work harder to extend myself beyond the communities in which I’ve been brought up and confined to? What clubs haven’t I explored? What events might help me meet new people? Through consistent engagement with social settings that we might individually deem uncomfortable, the hard path to letting go of hate just might become easier. Maxwell Barnes is studying Communication and Media in LSA and is a Daily Staff Writer for Arts. He can be reached at mxwell@umich.edu.

Wednesday, April 1, 2020 // The Statement

VISUAL STATEMENT: FIRENZE PHOTOS BY ALEX ANDRIA POMPEI