2021-09-15

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Wednesday, September 15, 2021

Ann Arbor, Michigan

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ACADEMICS

Lecturers’ union comes to tentative agreement with ‘U’

Contract has starting pay parity, longevity raises GEORGE WEYKAMP Daily Staff Reporter

DOMINICK SOKOTOFF/Daily Student organizers who intended to live at the new The One Ann Arbor apartment complex delivered an open letter to the University of Michigan dean of students.

The One student tenants ask UMich for assistance after move-in delays Organizers request support through meal swipes, virtual learning opportunities CHRISTIAN JULIANO & JUSTINE RA Daily Staff Reporters

Student organizers who intended to live at the new The One Ann Arbor apartment complex delivered an open letter to the University of Michigan dean of students on Sept. 10. The group is asking the University to help provide support for the more than 600 displaced students who planned to live at The One this school year.

The One is a newly constructed off-campus housing development located on Pontiac Trail in Ann Arbor, over two miles away from Central Campus. Most of its tenants are students, who were notified on Aug. 19 — five days prior to their expected movein date — of construction delays that would push back their move-in date to Sep. 9.

Ten days later on Aug. 29, tenants were again told that more delays have further pushed back their move-in

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Approval granted for 2% of vaccine exemption requests

date, leaving U-M student tenants still unable to live in the apartment complex one day before the first day of classes.

John Harris, principal at Trinitas Ventures, the parent company of The One, told The Michigan Daily in an email Wednesday that The One received nine temporary certificates of occupancy Sept.

8 and had 45 students move into the complex Sept. 9.

Harris didn’t immediately reply to request for comment when asked about the latest

tenant open letter to the U-M Dean of Students office or about former and current tenants’ continued concerns.

When speaking about the experience, LSA senior Krystal Webb, a former tenant who terminated her lease, said she felt stressed with the constant uncertainty of her temporary living situation. She also said she felt that the whole ordeal was taking a negative toll on her mental health.

See THE ONE, Page 2

Representatives from the Lecturers’ Employee Organization, the union representing lecturers, archivists and librarians across all three University of Michigan campuses, announced in a press release on Sept. 13 that they have reached a tentative agreement with the University’s administration after nine months of negotiations.

The tentative agreement includes a $51,000 starting salary for lecturers on all three University campuses starting in the 20232024 school year. The salary increase is a $10,000 jump for lecturers on the Flint and Dearborn campuses, fulfilling one of LEO’s demands for pay parity across all three campuses.

“In addition to the historic victory in minimum salaries, the contract would include longevity raises, increased job security provisions, enhanced sick pay, and teaching professor titles for longer serving lecturers,” the press release reads.

Contract negotiations between LEO and the University had up to this point been unsuccessful, primarily due to disagreements over LEO’s demands for pay parity across the three U-M campuses.

On Aug. 9, LEO members voted to quit their current contract with the University, meaning they were no longer contractually prohibited from going on strike 30 days after the vote.

In a march on campus shortly

after the union announced its decision to quit the contract, the organization’s members were joined by lecturers, students and community members in support of their demands.

Following further negotiations, LEO members voted to extend their contract with the University to Sept. 15 from Sept. 8, when it was originally set to expire, with hopes of reaching an agreement without a strike. The Sept. 13 announcement comes just two days before the deadline.

The Michigan Daily conducted a data analysis in April 2021 showing a historical trend of pay disparity between the Ann Arbor, Dearborn and Flint campuses over the last 19 years.

Dominick Fanelli, chief negotiator for the University, wrote in a statement obtained by The Daily that the tentative agreement represents a win for both LEO and the University’s administration.

“We are pleased to have reached an agreement that provides a fair salary and maintains the university’s goal of providing much needed flexibility in benefits, as well as continuing security for lecturers,” Fanelli wrote.

LEO president Kristen Herold wrote in the release that while all of LEO’s demands are not being met by the new contract, the contract signifies a historic gain for the union.

Read more at MichiganDaily.com

ANN ARBOR

Majority of exceptions are for religious reasons GEORGE WEYKAMP Daily Staff Reporter

The University of Michigan has approved 662 vaccine exemptions, less than 2% of the Ann Arbor campus’ student population, and denied an additional 95 exemptions, according to University spokesperson Rick Fitzgerald.

In an email to The Michigan Daily, Fitzgerald wrote that each exemption was evaluated on an individual basis.

“Exemption requests are reviewed by designated U-M staff members from a number of units, including University Health Service, Student Life, Human Resources and Occupational Health Services, as well as representatives from all three campuses and the health system, when appropriate,” Fitzgerald wrote.

On July 30, University President Mark Schlissel announced that faculty, staff and students across all three University campuses, as well as Michigan Medicine, were required to be fully vaccinated against COVID-19 by the first day of classes.

Schlissel’s announcement included “limited” religious and medical exemptions subject to University approval. Individuals with exemptions have to participate in mandatory weekly COVID-19 testing.

As of Sept. 8, 93% of students have reported their full vaccination sequence. According to Fitzgerald, the remaining 5% of students who have not self-reported a full vaccination nor been given an exemption are either partially vaccinated or in the process of requesting an exemption.

79% of staff and 92% of faculty on the Ann Arbor campus have also reported their full vaccination.

Students who have not reported their vaccination status and have not received an exemption or a deferment had an administrative hold placed on their account starting Aug. 30.

Fitzgerald wrote the majority of vaccine exemptions granted by the University were religious. In order to receive a religious exemption, students had to prove that getting the vaccine violated their sincerely-held religious view in a written statement and complete the COVID-19 safety module.

Engineering senior Brannon Kincaid said he applied for a religious exemption that has since been approved by the University. Kincaid said he spent time praying and decided now was not the right time to get a vaccine.

“Basically everything that you do (in Christianity) is to glorify God in a way, and to go to God and pray for most decisions,” Kincaid said. “And basically, for me personally, I had prayed about it, and at that point in time I just decided it wasn’t the right thing for me to do.”

Kincaid said the process of receiving an exemption was relatively straightforward, though he said there were some confusing aspects of applying for one. Kincaid said after applying on Aug. 4, he didn’t hear anything until Aug. 19, when he learned that his exemption had been approved on the condition that he complete a COVID-19 safety module.

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MADELINE HINKLEY/Daily Fans are encouraged, but not required, to wear masks in the outdoor stadium sections.

COVID-19 protocols in Big House concern some Ann Arbor residents

Community members say lack of masks, social distancing at games could increase virus spread VANESSA KIEFER Daily Staff Reporter

Michigan Stadium opened its gates on Sept. 4 to more than 100,000 fans eager to see the Wolverines take on Western Michigan University live and in action.

Some University of Michigan community members and Ann Arbor residents, though, have expressed concerns that the upcoming season and events associated with it will heighten the spread of COVID-19 as cases rise.

Following the 2020 season, which halted ticket sales to the general public and introduced a conference-only game schedule, the University released a comparatively lenient set of health protocols for the 2021 season.

According to the University’s Athletics Face Covering Policy, which was last updated on Aug. 18, capacities at home athletic events are not to be reduced.

Fans are also encouraged, but not required, to wear masks in the outdoor stadium sections.

Guests are required to wear face coverings when in any

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INDEX

indoor area, regardless of their vaccination status.

University spokesperson Kim Broekhuizen wrote in an email to The Michigan Daily that while the University’s academic missions continue to be their top priority, Michigan football is an important part of Ann Arbor’s community culture.

“We have worked with medical experts across the university and state and local governments to find a balance that allows events and gatherings to continue on campus while still providing a safe atmosphere,” Broekhuizen

Vol. CXXX, No. 50 ©2021 The Michigan Daily

wrote. “(Athletic Director Warde) Manuel has been a relentless advocate for the safety of our student-athletes.”

The University is keeping a close eye on the spread of COVID-19, Broekhuizen wrote, especially on cases stemming from community events.

“We will continue to monitor viral activity closely, especially in relation to games and other large events, and will not hesitate to adjust the policy as needed,” Broekhuizen said.

Read more at MichiganDaily.com

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ACADEMICS

Students face another semester outside the classroom with virtual, outdoor classes Concerns about the delta variant prompt instructors to change course formats EVAN DELORENZO Daily Staff Reporter

Though 91% of University of Michigan courses are being taught in-person this semester, some students are still learning in alternative formats — including online or outdoors — due to concerns over teaching in small classrooms as the more contagious delta variant continues to spread.

LSA freshman Sam Gomez, who is taking an outdoors class this semester, was among those most looking forward to getting as normal of a college experience as possible in the age of COVID-19.

“I was very optimistic — when you searched for in-person classes, most classes would pop up,” Gomez said. “I was really excited that I’d be able to walk the campus and be able to experience it more or less in the way that a student would on a normal year.”

To Gomez’s surprise, “in-person” for English 223 did not mean learning in Mason Hall, the class’s location on the LSA course guide. After first meeting in the confined space of a classroom, lecturer Molly Lynch decided to move the English class outside for both creativity and safety reasons, she told The Daily.

“For the most part, people would like to be outside in the nice weather, especially in a creative writing class,” Lynch said. “But the COVID safety aspect of it was my main motivation, because I don’t know how well ventilated each classroom is.”

Over the past two weeks,

THE ONE From Page 1 “I literally lost so much sleep those nights because I didn’t know if they were going to put me in a hotel,” Webb said. “They weren’t telling us. Just recently, I decided I couldn’t do it anymore.

It just felt like a game, because I’m sure that they know that the move-in dates couldn’t happen on those days. But they were still giving us false hope.”

Organizers are requesting that the University issue a statement to The One regarding its treatment of U-M students and that the University cut its advertising ties with The One by removing ads for the complex on the off-campus housing website Beyond the Diag.

Conrad Kosowsky, fourth year PhD student and one of the organizers of the letter, said he felt that the University shouldn’t be advertising housing that doesn’t exist.

“I think it’s really bad of the University to be providing a platform for an apartment complex when that complex is

Lynch has made use of spaces available throughout Central Campus, teaching her courses across from Hill Auditorium, outside the North University Building and even in the University Museum of Modern Art. “There’s plenty of opportunity for outdoor classrooms,” Lynch said. “Our campus has a lot of spaces where that can be done and done in a way in which teachers just kind of use what appears to be available.”

Learning in these unconventional locations has helped Gomez grow accustomed to campus while tapping into his creative side — something that is much more difficult in a windowless Mason Hall classroom, he said.

“I feel like I’m a lot more in touch with things,” Gomez said. “I know that for some situations, being outside can make a classroom environment more difficult, but in a creative class such as this one, it feels like you’re in your element a bit more.”

The only downside, Gomez said, is the occasional interruption, whether it be the bell tower’s quarter-hour chime or a friend unknowingly disrupting the class.

Though Gomez and his classmates are tackling school in a brand-new setting, others have returned to the alltoo-familiar Zoom calls for hybrid and virtual classes this semester.

Despite having the option to teach in person, Anna Edmonds, lecturer of philosophy, opted for virtual lectures with in-person

treating university students so incredibly poorly.”

They are also asking the University to provide tenants with meal swipes at dining halls. According to the letter, “a representative survey of tenants” showed that over 50% of respondents have skipped meals and/or school-related events to save money.

“It appears that hundreds of students have not yet received their promised stipends from The One and therefore cannot use that money to purchase food,” the letter reads.

Webb said that when she contacted the Dean of Students to obtain meal card swipes for tenants who were living in hotels, she was met with unreasonable options and little support, especially for students given hotels in farther cities. “‘The One is giving you $50 a day. You can use that,’” Webb said the Dean of Students told her.

“But for some people who were out in Canton and Livonia, that’s not really a viable option because they have to use that $50 a day to get to campus.”

discussions due to space limitations on campus.

“Given that it seemed like a pretty high possibility that we would end up with a much worse lecture time in possibly not a very good space, I elected to stay online,” Edmonds said.

Edmonds said the return to virtual instruction is not a setback but instead offers a variety of ways to keep students engaged during lectures.

Edmonds said the chat function has been especially helpful for facilitating participation during lectures.

“I really love being able to glance over at the chat and see the kind of comments and questions people are asking there,” Edmonds said. “It’s a pretty low bar for entry into class participation … I already know that the person who’s written in it has something to say, so there’s no sort of danger of scary cold-calling.”

Students have so far enjoyed the freedom that comes with recorded lectures, Edmonds said.

“It seemed fairly plausible that having the recorded lectures to be able to go back and watch, as well as taking exams in a setting where you were by yourself and not elbowto-elbow in the auditorium, were helpful,” Edmonds said.

Edmonds and Lynch emphasized the importance of continuing to prioritize students’ mental health.

“I acknowledge the kind of awkwardness, difficulty and challenges that we may potentially be facing,” Lynch said. “I put a huge amount of emphasis in my teaching on student mental health — it’s

Other requests included encouraging faculty to create virtual learning opportunities for students who are commuting to campus or staying in hotels due to their housing displacement, as well as providing alternative transportation resources for tenants. The One has provided a shuttle service to get to campus; however, organizers say the shuttle timing is unreliable.

“The One has offered inconsistent and poorly timed shuttle service to its current tenants, with long, unscheduled wait times and some routes taking well over an hour to arrive on campus,” the letter reads.

Given these and other difficulties, 70% of survey respondents reported that “the emotional distress from the delay will affect their academic performance,” according to the open letter.

“At this difficult time, we need you to advocate for us,” the letter reads. “University students were pressured (78% of respondents); given inadequate information or insufficient time (98% of respondents); and had days when

very prominent in my syllabi, so students are aware of the services that are available to them.”

Engineering junior Anna Kilts said virtual classes definitely have their advantages when it comes to freedom and time management.

“It’s really nice to take my class wherever,” Kilts said.

“I don’t actually have to go anywhere, so my Tuesdays are very relaxing.”

On other days when she has hybrid classes, Kilts said she loses this luxury of working wherever is convenient.

“The only difficulty with hybrid (classes) is scheduling,” Kilts said. “My discussion section is ten minutes after my lecture, so I have to do the online lecture somewhere on campus to get to my classroom time.”

Still, Kilts said she hopes students stay safe and follow the University COVID-19 protocols set in place so that next semester is more similar to a pre-pandemic college experience.

“I just hope that, as a whole, the student body continues to be safe and smart with the decisions that they’re making,” Kilts said. “Obviously, being in person is really exciting, but we’re only going to be able to continue to have in-person classes and in-person opportunities as long as people are making smart decisions.”

Daily Staff Reporter Evan DeLorenzo can be reached at evandelo@umich.edu.

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ANAMIKA KANNAN and GABRIJELA SKOKO

they didn’t know where they would stay (70% of respondents).”

Kosowsky said the University should provide transportation resources like Blue Buses or parking passes for the students who commute 20-30 miles away from campus. So far, Kosowsky said the University hasn’t been helpful with regards to parking.

“One of the students who helped deliver the letter today tried to get a parking pass,” Kosowsky said of a commuter who was ineligible for a parking pass and was unable to get special permission from the parking office. “So now he doesn’t have a great place to park his car when he drives to campus, which he needs to do because the shuttles don’t run frequently.”

The letter currently has 312 signatures, and organizers reported that around 250 tenants have contacted each other on social media to support each other.

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CAMPUS LIFE

Wednesday, September 15, 2021 — 3

GOVERNMENT

Freshman creates unofficial Biden extends student loan Blue Bus tracking app moratorium to Jan. 2022

Akinci programmed ‘M-Bus’after frustrations with ‘U’ app SARAH WILLIAMS Daily Staff Reporter

Engineering freshman Efe Akinci, an Ann Arbor native, struggled to navigate the University of Michigan’s Magic Bus application last year and decided to do something about it.

So this past summer, Akinci designed and programmed his own unofficial app — M-Bus — that tracks when buses arrive in real-time. “(The University-affiliated app Magic Bus) just loads their webpage, so it feels a little clunky because it’s basically a webpage in an app,” Akinci said. “I wanted to make my own so that when I came (to Michigan) I would be able to find bus stops and buses and have a better experience with it.”

Akinci said he spent two weeks creating the app and then made it available for download on the App Store and Google Play. Akinci then shared his app with close friends and posted to the U-M subreddit promoting his app.

Soon enough, downloads for the app began to increase.

“I was expecting like twenty or thirty people to download it,” Ackinci said. “And then the first day I launched it, I think about 650 people downloaded it, which I was not expecting. I hadn’t made the app to handle that, and the app crashed on its first day.”

Since then, Akinci has reworked the app to avoid crashes.

“It’s not a very intensive program, at least on the back end, so I don’t see any reason why it wouldn’t be able to support every single person here using it,” Akinci said.

The M-Bus app relies on Application Programming Interface data that the University acquired through its 2020 contract with Clever Devices, the supplier that facilitated the switch from the previous University-affiliated app Double Map to Magic Bus. Akinci said he uses the same data the University uses, ensuring the app’s accuracy.

“As far as I can tell, (the contract) comes with a standard package that includes a developer API, so that’s what I’m using. It’s all standardized and very well documented,” Akinci said. “It comes from the same data that U of M uses.”

Moving forward, Akinci said he plans to change the app so that each time the University updates its bus routes, the app automatically adds the new routes without requiring users to update their app to the newest version.

Since launching in August, Akinci’s M-Bus has garnered 57 ratings on the Apple App Store, with an average rating of 4.9 stars as of Sept. 8.

Akinci’s frustrations with the University’s official bus app, Magic Bus, are shared among many of its users. When the University first launched Magic Bus in early 2020, students said the app’s features were not intuitive and bus positions were not always updated.

LSA sophomore Jack Sweeting uses the U-M bus system a couple of times a week and switched from Magic Bus to M-Bus. “I don’t use the (Michigan) Magic Bus app; I use the M-Bus app, which I’ve found is a bit more accurate than the official one by the school,” Sweeting said. “Even then sometimes the (M-Bus) app can be a little inaccurate on the

timing. But it’s usually pretty helpful for knowing when a bus is going to be there.”

Sweeting also said he thinks the M-Bus app uses a more “userfriendly interface,” compared to Magic Bus, which shows users more maps and screens.

Music, Theatre & Dance sophomore Carlos Pirela Romero regularly commutes from North to Central Campus and said he prefers to use Google Maps over the Magic Bus app because of its simplicity. Pirela Romero said he had not yet used M-Bus. “I think Google Maps is more user-friendly than Magic (Bus),” Pirela Romera said. “Magic Bus has a lot of stats, a lot of dropdown menus. It gets a little complicated.”

Currently, the app is run entirely by Akinci, who said he doesn’t earn profit from the app.

Akinci said before launching, he received permission from the University’s Logistics, Transportation & Parking department to create the app.

“I did ask if they were okay with the app existing, and they said they were fine with it as long as it had no U of M branding and I didn’t make money … from it,” Akinci said. “They know the app exists and they’re fine with it existing, which is really all that I can ask for.”

The University Logistics, Transportation & Parking department did not respond to requests for comment.

For the time being, Akinci said he plans to continue running the app but said he would not be opposed to handing the app over to other students in the future.

Read more at MichiganDaily.com

Program was initially supposed to end Sept. 2021 JUSTINE RA

Daily Staff Reporter

On Aug. 6, President Joe Biden announced his administration would be extending the student loan moratorium from the original end date in September 2021, allowing borrowers to pause repayment until Jan. 31, 2022.

The loan moratorium initially began on March 13, 2020 and is a period of suspended federal loan payments, frozen interest rates for loans accruing interest and a pause on defaulted loan collection for borrowers across the country.

The relief measures are selective and determined by the ownership of the loan, meaning only a subset of loans are “eligible” for this suspension.

While defaulted and nondefaulted loans owned by the U.S Department of Education, defaulted HEAL loans and non-defaulted Federal Family Education Loan (FFEL) Program loans all qualify for relief, commercially-owned lender loans, school-owned loans and private loans do not.

When asked about the targeted eligibility of student loan relief, CSG President Nithya Arun, a Public Health senior, questioned the selectivity.

“This is a demonstrated need,” Arun said. “I think it’s the government’s duty to cover that, especially because at the end of the day, you’d be investing in our economy in the long run. And I really don’t think there’s a need to be selective because we can cover the cost of it. It’s just that we choose not to.”

In an email to The Michigan Daily, LSA junior and founder of

U-M’s Students for Biden Andrew Schaeffler said he believes Biden’s plan is a great start in giving aid to those who need it most, especially considering the challenge of broadly canceling student debt.

“More broad-based student loan forgiveness could run into more legal problems, require legislative action or could be reduced by future Republican administrations, and taking it in a more nuanced and specific way is more important,” Schaeffler wrote. “In essence, this structure allows for those truly wronged by predatory lenders or other more urgent situations to be targeted and have their loans forgiven, a much more succinct process.”

In his statement from The White House, Biden said the current extension would be the final one. After Jan. 31, borrowers would have to be prepared to start repaying their loan payments.

Schaeffler said he believes the Biden administration’s timing and forgiveness measures of the extension was greatly needed given the pandemic.

“As job numbers continue to grow and the impacts of COVID19 continue to slowly subside, I believe that this extension is fair,” Schaeffler wrote.

“However, as we get closer to January 2022, we will see how appropriate another extension would be; there is probably not a specific time that would be ‘good’ to restart payments, so this timing, being a few months from now, is as good a time as possible.”

On this point, Arun said she disagrees with putting a cap on the moratorium. She said she believes decisions shouldn’t be

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f o t s o M o D ?

What Is It ? y h W d n a , t I Us Need Thursday

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made when the trajectory and full impact of the pandemic is unknown. Because loans are a significant burden even without the impacts of a pandemic, Arun said considering post-grad education in a time of COVID19 uncertainty is unknown and anxiety-inducing.

“I’m scared for myself in terms of post-grad,” Arun said. “I will not have the financial capability to just pay that in full without a loan.

So that is something that provokes fear in me.”

Considering the Biden administration’s student debt forgiveness has topped $9.5 billion so far, Schaeffler said he believes Biden is ‘fully committed’ to achieving students’ loan relief and fighting for their education.

“Biden supports and has proposed a legislative package that would include free undergraduate tuition for students from families who make less than $125,000,” Schaeffler wrote.

“He has proposed nearly $800 billion of spending pertaining to education, including $450 billion for child care and universal prekindergarten programs, as well as funding for school infrastructure and free community college.”

Arun said given the Biden campaign’s support for immediate $10,000 forgiveness per student borrower, she believes Biden has still not delivered enough on forgiving student loans.

“That was one of his promises and he still hasn’t followed through on that campaign promise,” Arun said. “I think there is room in the budget to cover the cost of education, especially higher education.”

Daily Staff Reporter Justine Ra can be reached at rjustine@umich.edu.

Arts

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BRENNA GOSS, ELIZABETH YOON, KAITLYN FOX, DARBY WILLIAMS, GIGI GUIDA, ROSS LONDON, KARI ANDERSON

Daily Arts Editors & Writers

In 2021, like in years before, the writers of The Michigan Daily Arts are stretching out their hammies to participate in a grueling challenge of mental fortitude and physical fitness: the Ann Arbor Probility Marathon. A little pretentious, a little weird, The Daily team is a mix of seasoned athletes and … less seasoned athletes. For the sake of journalism and prestige, The Daily’s tenacious review-writing gremlins are closing their laptops, tying up their Brooks and hitting the Ann Arbor pavement. Non-gremlin but marathon-interested University of Michigan students can join the marathon with the discount code “Goblue25.”

Brenna “I hate running, but I’ll die before I’m bad at it” Goss I’ve wanted to learn how to run ever since I was forced to run a mile in sixth grade gym class. I knew it was coming weeks ahead of time, but I didn’t bother to prepare for it.

After all, I was spending 20 hours per week in my dance studio, training for competitions and a potential future career — how much harder could running be? Unfortunately, I didn’t get the answer I was looking for. I made it one lap around the field before I gave up and just started walking. Unable to stand being terrible at anything, I started training in fits and spurts. But although my mile times gradually got shorter, I never made it more than a month before giving up on the whole idea, only to have to start all over again when I got my motivation back. The problem was, I just hated running. I hated the feeling of my heart constricting painfully in my chest, my throat dry and scraping. I hated the cramps that would wedge themselves down through my shoulder and up under my ribs. In the end, my desire to improve was never stronger than my desire to just avoid it all.

But, for better or for worse, I’m a stubborn person. I’ve never been one to let things go easily. And no matter how much my body shouts at me that it’s just not meant for cardio, I am determined to prove it wrong. Even if I nearly passed out while forcing myself to the peak of a 14,265-foot mountain. Even if my heart was beating 195 bpm while climbing up Colorado’s sand dunes. Even if running makes me feel like I’m always just a couple of steps away from a heart attack. If my body is the instrument through which I experience the world, then it better be well prepared to do everything I’m going to ask of it.

I made up my mind in sixth grade, and even a decade later, I haven’t forgotten it: I’m going to learn how to run.

Elizabeth “I have asthma, but I’m not asthmatic” Yoon Within our lives, we live out little loops, becoming certain kinds of people defined for a moment by our fascinations. Soccer player, high school debater, school doer. Our pet obsessions and interests memorialize and drive our outward presentation. It is, in part, subconscious while also a sustained performance. Who we are (how we are perceived and how we envision ourselves) is tied to our own baked-in idiosyncrasies. They are the result of compounded habits and tics.

The graphic novel “Habibi” by Craig Thompson illustrates this well. Toward the end of the novel, Thompson has a visual spread of the many different lives the main characters have lived. You see the characters as children, teenagers and young adults. Each iteration is drastically different, adapted to changing circumstances and lifestyles. Their lives were trying yet expansive and different: constantly changing, evolving, devolving and mobile. I want the same. I want to look back and see my life segmented into vibrant and distinct phases.

Thus, I run the marathon to reboot myself post COVID-19.

I want to build new habits and successfully merge the athlete I was in high school with the more sedentary co-ed I am now. I want to make use of my many sports bras and evolve myself into two things: a person who rises early and a person who can gleefully run seven miles. The first goal is already in the process of coming true. My summer morning commute had me very begrudgingly trudging out of bed at 6:30 a.m. While I am not yet gleeful (and have also not started running more than two miles), I am very hopeful that

by October, I will have enough lung capacity to laugh while running my leg of the marathon relay. And if not laughing, armed with my inhaler, I will definitely be making some kind of laugh-adjacent, strangled wheezing noise.

Kaitlyn “Retired middle school track star” Fox The start of my running career dates back to sixth grade when my ex-Marine officer gym coach approached me after the infamous PACER test and said, “Fox, I’m recruiting you for the 4×100 relay.” I didn’t particularly enjoy running at the time, but I was terrified of saying no to the coach that ordered burpees left

and right and had scrawny middle schoolers flipping tires across the school soccer field.

I quickly discovered that I was actually a decent runner after our relay team wound up winning the local conference championship.

My middle school running career was shortlived, however, when I came down with pneumonia in the seventh grade, putting me on the sidelines for nearly two years as my lungs recovered.

While running never became my main sport (I ended up dedicating myself to tennis in high school), I continued racing on my own time, even logging a few miles before tennis practices and running my first half marathon before my senior season.

Nowadays, finding the time and energy to maintain my fitness is a challenge, and I’m not always eager as I was in high school to lace up my shoes and hit the road. But I’ve stuck with it because running is a constant challenge, and I want to conquer it.

Design by Erin Shi

As a type 3 on the Enneagram (aka the “achiever”), running presents an amazing opportunity to strive for more and work on bettering myself. I love the prospect of adding extra miles to my weekly mileage, beating my personal records and watching my body adapt to the challenges of running. Even when my legs feel stiff and lungs burn, I know that pain is turning me into a better, stronger athlete.

To put it plainly, I love the “running aesthetic.” I love waking up before the rest of the world to go for a long run. I live for the adrenaline rush before a race. I’m secretly proud when someone tells me I’m crazy for enjoying running. I chuckle at running memes, and I love the wholesomeness of the running community.

Darby “Inclement weather be damned” Williams I took up running out of necessity.

My senior year of high school was a disaster of tempestuous proportions. Literally. Two months into the school year my school and home in the U.S. Virgin Islands were hit by two Category 5 hurricanes. I was forced to evacuate and live in Utah with my two little sisters for the remainder of my senior year.

All in all, I spent eight months sleeping on a deflated air mattress in the living room of my grandparents’ basement.

That year brought with it six college rejections, a string of chronic migraines and the worst heartbreak of my life. Senior year was as much an exercise in resilience as it was an exercise in rejection. At its culmination, I was left completely directionless.

I took up running because I needed something to reach for. I signed up for a half marathon, despite only having run eight miles before. I trained and trained and trained. I spent hours in the summer sun, sometimes leaving the track at 10 p.m. Looking back, my first race time was nothing to write home about. Nevertheless, it left me with a small pink medal, copious blisters and the gift of something I thought I had lost long ago: purpose.

I signed up for another race. And another. During my gap year, I ran five half marathons. Running afforded me the luxury of losing myself in the act of progress for progress’s sake.

The beauty of running, for me, was in the sheer joy of moving forward. Speed and direction became secondary as I lost myself in the thrill of the race.

Running taught me the power of being present. In past years, I had defined myself through past failures and future anxieties.

In the time I trained, I was able to focus on the things that brought me joy and fulfillment.

I taught at an elementary school, I acted in Shakespearean plays, I sang. I left the heartbreak, the rejection letters and that shitty deflated mattress in my wake.

Amid the storm-stricken debris of my past aspirations, I finally found my footing, and having done so, I did what runners do best.

I moved forward.

Gigi “Send help — lost on a sidewalk somewhere in the Midwest” Guida When I first arrived in Ann Arbor, and for many months after, I had no idea where the heck I was.

Before freshman move-in, I’d lived on the same block of Center City Philadelphia my

whole life. My family had moved only once, when I was a far-from-cognizant newborn, from a rowhouse on one end of our block to an identical rowhouse a few doors down. Eighteen years later, I moved again. This time, not a few doors down, but to a Midwestern college town.

Driving through flat farmland, turning on Washtenaw Avenue and walking up the steps of South Quad, I entered what would become more than a momentary state of geographic and cultural disorientation.

In a way I hadn’t predicted, I had a hard time making sense of Ann Arbor. Where was I? Would you call it a town? A suburb, maybe?

Certainly not a city like I had been told. Where were all the elderly people, the kids younger than college-aged? Or was the whole place a large-scale hotel for transient 20-somethingyear-olds who came and went? Where were the parks? The old buildings? The gathering spaces? What did it mean to live here? I didn’t know, but I was doing it anyway. I was lost in space, without a sense of place and, for a long time, Ann Arbor didn’t feel like home.

It wasn’t until the spring of 2020 that this began to change when, in a moment of pandemic hysteria, I began training for my first marathon. During that time, my runs were vital nutrients to my everyday sanity; they were a surefire method of escape, a delicious departure from Zoom and my bedroom desk.

Crucially, my daily run also became an essential cartographic tool; running in and around Ann Arbor was when I finally came to know it.

Carried by my own two legs, I found forests, parks, cabins, farms, deer and a gated mansion or two. I ran through yellow sassafras leaves and underneath snowy branches. Herons skulked on the banks of the Huron River, robins and blue jays fluttered across the path in front of me. Far away from my hometown, I saw brightly colored townhouses with front and back porches, cabins made of varnished wood, an old church, now refurbished and residential, a grand stainedglass window letting light into a living room.

Notably, I got lost all the time. Outrageously lost. Scarily lost! A certain sort of I-don’t-havemy-phone-the-sun-is-setting-and-I’m-ona-dirt-road lost. But as I got more and more lost in the Ann Arbor landscape (and do brace yourself for the incoming cliché), I was starting to understand exactly where I was.

I ran my marathon in December 2020 in Philly. I finished Rocky-style at the top of the Art Museum steps. I hugged my mom, I looked out at the sunset and the skyline, I totally cried.

Months later, in Ann Arbor now, I’m still running, still reorienting.

Read more at MichiganDaily.com

Theo Katzman bars none and bares feelings ROSA SOFIA KAMINSKI Daily Arts Writer

There are some musicians whose performances make you forget where your body ends and the music begins; they connect with the crowd so deeply that you feel rooted in your current moment. This energy was palpable at Theo Katzman’s Sonic Lunch concert in downtown Ann Arbor on Sept. 2, for which May Erlewine opened. The same friendly electricity was palpable in a long Zoom chat with The Daily.

Katzman’s engaging manner in conversation felt akin to the way he pulls his listeners in: He asks them to become part of his musical world and volunteers his emotions so that they might find something similar stirring within themselves. “I’ve noticed that people that are fans, they often sing all the words,” he shared. “It’s really cool, because it’s like, they’re resonating with that, too.”

And indeed, at the Sonic Lunch, the crowd gleefully sang along. At first, there was the hesitance that people seem to find themselves submerged in at outdoor concerts sometimes, as these so often feel less formal, and you are aware that pedestrians crossing can see you dancing and singing. Katzman encouraged the crowd to break out of the everyday setting we had found ourselves in, until we couldn’t help but twist our hands up into the air to his funkrock, singing his own feelings back at him and laughing at his occasional dialogue delivery of the lyrics.

This return to his college town carried a good bit of significance and happy memories for Katzman, saying “I think I can basically trace every gig I’ve gotten as a professional musician back to just, like, hanging out in Kerrytown.” The 2007 U-M graduate still carries the community he found in Ann Arbor with him, saying that this school gave him friends all over the world. He met many of his bandmates from the funk band Vulfpeck through the jazz program here.

“A very innocent, beautiful time to be in Ann Arbor,” he reminisced. “We were making music on our own terms. It was like, so exciting to be a young person on your own for the first time.” In what I now recognized as a classically thoughtful Theo Katzman twist, he added, “I mean, I would imagine you’ve had a similar feeling.”

Of course, now Katzman is more cemented in his identity as a musician. “I definitely am a performer and … I feel like I’m my best self when I’m performing music,” Katzman said.

It was a discovery reached after a long year, one filled with gratitude for things after they’d been taken away, just like for so many of us. “That’s what this whole last year has been,” he pondered. “It’s like, man who really are you? And what’s important to you right now? And are you going to, like, double down on that? Or are you going to ignore it?

And I don’t want to ignore it.”

Facing yourself in such a manner is difficult, and sharing it with a whole crowd is an impressive level of vulnerability, but Katzman is nothing if not courageous.

His songs very often cover heartbreak and frustration: his last album Modern Johnny Sings: Songs in the Age of Vibe mixing political commentary (“You Could Be President”) with songs about bygone intimacy; his singing on “Fog In The Mirror” so soft you can tell he is walking through the memory. His music over the years has

contained all sides of love, from the sharp panged euphoria of new love, to the feeling of a glowing soft-edged love that has existed for a long time and continues to exist. This love reaches further to the pile of sea glass and pieces of a heart that one resigned oneself to when originally opening oneself to love.

“My music isn’t separate from my life,” he said. “I’m not like that kind of artist … it would be cool if (I) were, maybe, but (I’m) not. It’s like I’m trying to accept more of just who I am and … how I am.”

This sort of thoughtfulness seems to translate intensely into his writing process. “I feel like I’m just compelled to write music and I’m compelled to think a lot about how I feel and I think sometimes that’s a trap because thinking can be a trap,” he admits.

But overall, music is omnipresent in his brain, whether he is writing it or not. As such, he strives to stay productive, allowing what is in him already to make an appearance in the world. “When I’m writing … I’m trying not to lead the music as much as follow it these days, because I think it’s, that’s part of the magic if you can kind of not close your mind off.” It is an almost generous sentiment from a musician who has learned, through time, that you don’t guide the music or the genius, it guides you.

Emotions, flaky paint colors that they are, so clearly guide him too. Writing music seems to be an almost therapeutic process of self-discovery for Katzman, as he often learns more about what he is thinking and feeling when trying to communicate it to others through music.

“I like when those emotions change while you’re writing a song. And sometimes you write a song (and) you’re like, this is about a person, you know, and then you’re thinking about (that) person. And then you realize, actually, this person is actually just symbolic. And then you’re like, ‘Oh, shit.’ I’m just personifying a feeling,” Katzman finishes, the casual tone making his piercing observations seem almost easy to come by. But in the end, this person he is writing about is a necessary part of the song, in order to properly create a chain of empathy between him and his listeners.

Simply writing about the feeling itself would make it vague, open-ended, obvious. It can tell the listener what to feel, instead of allowing them to reflect and figure out why the song resonates with them. It might be different from what Katzman originally intended, but to him, this is something to be encouraged.

“I think it’s really cool when a song can mean different things to different people, based on how it feels to them, which is sometimes the challenge with lyrics,” Katzman said. “It’s challenging to write words that are specific enough to send a message but open enough to not direct it.”

There is a kind of generosity to statements such as these, a quality that seems to define Theo Katzman as a musician.

What is music if not generous?

The kind of openness that defines his discography can be a form of giving of oneself.

“What’s the point of doing any of this? If we’re not dealing with real shit? And it doesn’t mean I want my music to be a bloodbath, you know?” he jokes, following up with, “But I’d like … there (to) be some blood.”

Read more at MichiganDaily.com

Arts

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Wednesday, September 15, 2021 — 5

The Daily’s top music releases of summer 2021 KAITLYN FOX, DREW GADBOIS, ROSA SOFIA KAMINSKI, JASON ZHANG, NORA LEWIS, CONOR DURKIN, GIGI CIULLA, KAI BARTOL, MADELEINE GANNON, RYAN BRACE Daily Arts Writers & Editors

When we started the “Best of Summer” series last year, none of us expected that we would still have a hanging shadow of the pandemic looming over us. If anything, this series was created as a defense against the social brain rot brought out by constant screen interfacing and self-isolation. If there is one entity that can foster genuine connection without the need for physical immediacy, it’s music. With that in mind, here we are, one year later, still reeling from the effects of this separation but with possible hope on the horizon. As artists return to recording studios with the music they’ve created during the pandemic, the music beat is celebrating the return of new music with our favorite summer releases.

Mood Valiant – Hiatus Kaiyote Never has outer space felt so realistic.

Hiatus Kaiyote’s third album Mood Valiant grounds the strange and unfamiliar feeling of what is past the atmosphere, making it seem like something within our reach. By that, I don’t mean simple synths and voice alteration technology. Theirs is an album filled with intricately thought-out instrumentation that walks the line between jazz, R&B, funk, electronica and something undefinable.

Their lead Nai Palm’s singing, which swoops between euphoric, daring, grooving and tender, is a highlight on the album, as usual.

While the album is perhaps not as cohesive as their last masterpiece, it still makes strong use of their technical skill while remaining in empathetic touch with the listener. Songs like “Stone or Lavender” bring the listener to a reckoning with their insides, encouraging us that love is the difficult choice we should always make. Meanwhile, “Get Sun ft. Arthur Verocai” and “Chivalry Is Not Dead” really dig into it in completely different ways, displaying once again the insane range of this band.

Because their music does not fit fully into any genre and is like none I’ve ever heard before, each album of theirs becomes a new world to explore. — Fia Kaminski, Daily Arts Writer

What do you get when you take the soulfulness and cryptic wordplay of Erykah Badu, a velvety smooth bassline, then add a taste of fusion jazz? Hiatus Kaiyote’s “Red Room.” This was my favorite song of the summer, by far. The production is stripped down to its bare minimum, the song builds but doesn’t necessarily change and the drumbeat is not busy at all; its simplicity is effective.

“Red Room” showcases the artistry and skill of the band, since there is literally nowhere to hide, and everyone is heard. Frontwoman Nai Palm’s voice dances on top of the groove — there is something ritualistic about her vocal performance, like a shaman guiding you through an auditory hallucination. She’s not afraid to explore the edges of her register, and she finds beauty in the imperfections. The lyrics are hard to unravel but not meaningless.

It’s poetry, and the words flow like a crystalline stream of consciousness. Sparse instrumentation and simplicity is a dangerous game in music, but “Red Room” definitely comes out on top. — Jason Zhang, Daily Arts Writer Solar Power – Lorde Lorde’s release of Solar Power feels very timely given the current state of the world. As we emerge from isolation and embrace a “new normal,” Lorde has returned from her hiatus, giving us a fresh album that grapples with global issues while appreciating the beauty that we have left to cling to.

Unlike the dark, somber mood of her 2017 release Melodrama, Solar Power offers a sense of optimism and feels more commercial than any of her previous releases. But commercial doesn’t necessarily equate to being unoriginal.

Produced with Jack Antonoff, who recently produced Taylor Swift’s cut-back indie albums folklore and evermore, Solar Power embraces simplicity and seeks clarity through poetic accounts of her ponderings over the climate crisis, her recent trip to Antarctica and her relationships — both romantic and familial.

The album’s title track has become a summer anthem, a song that celebrates the natural world and sonically mimics the warmth of sun-filled summer days. With its inspiring retrospection and concern for the modern crises plaguing our world, Solar Power is not just a feel-good summer release — it is a call to action. — Kaitlyn Fox, Music Beat Editor

Spiral – DARKSIDE When news broke out that producer Nicolás Jaar and multi-instrumentalist Dave Harrington would be returning to their DARKSIDE project nearly 8 years after their debut record Psychic, expectations could not have been higher.

The release of Psychic felt like a new discovery was just made in electronic music, with its murky textures being allowed to roam the liquid architecture provided by subterranean synth ambiance.

Jaar in particular has continued to be a trailblazer in the genre for the years following.

With their new release Spiral, DARKSIDE stick to their formula of synthetic mysticism.

However, they do so with an entirely different aesthetic in mind. In fact, the respective album artwork between the two records perfectly highlights this distinction. Whereas Psychic sounds like an air bubble swirling in the darkness of a fog-imbued room, Spiral is lurking underneath the verdant foliage, slithering between the pockets of space provided by the leaves. It’s an album whose sound is allowed to ferment as sharp plucks of guitar give way to the encompassing hum of a singing bowl. It feels so in tune with a summer whose oppressive heat and humidity have often made it feel like you were swimming through the air. At the same time, there is also a certain pulse that the album seems to function under, whether it be a lone hi-hat count, a hard-hitting bass groove or just a steady thump of the kick. In this sense, Spiral feels like a living organism, with its heart-pounding away buried beneath the overgrowth. — Drew Gadbois, Music Senior Arts Editor Fatigue – L’Rain Residing in an emotional state of limbo has never sounded more breathtakingly ethereal than it does on Brooklyn musician L’Rain’s latest album, Fatigue. The project arrived amid a summer spent balancing high expectations for normalcy with circumstances that often changed for the worse. It’s an odd space that we inhabit now, most of us not unscathed by the events of the last two years but willing to welcome hope and joy with open arms. On Fatigue’s opener “Fly, Die” a probing voice asks, “What have you done, to change?” L’Rain artfully unpacks this question, tying together the moments of chaos and peace that have

Design by Jessica Chiu

defined her own fatigue into one cinematic listening experience.

What is perhaps most special about Fatigue is the way that each song unfurls into something unexpected. The track “Find It” begins as a relatively spare arrangement of soft vocal loops and light synth, yet by its end crescendos into a soulful explosion of gospel choirs and church organs. “Two Face” leads with an incredible twist of hard-edged piano and percussion and descends into sparkling guitar and grooving bass. “Suck Teeth” flows between a more classic R&B bassline to almost eerie vocal delivery.

With her background as a chameleon-like instrumentalist, L’Rain doesn’t stay in one place for long. Despite Fatigue’s eclecticism, it never sounds disjointed. Instead, L’Rain has opened up a space for her emotions to breathe and interact with one another, reminding us that it’s okay to step back and reconcile the conflicting forces of our being. — Nora Lewis, Daily Arts Writer Black Metal 2 – Dean Blunt You remember laying in the backseat of your parents’ car — the one they got rid of years ago — and the radio is playing a hundred seats up; you’re looking at the yellow dots of street lights passing above you like paint strokes against a fogged-up mirror … ok, maybe it’s not like that. Maybe, it’s just another incredible edition to Dean Blunt’s discography of blissful, impossibly hypnotic and cruelly melancholic art-pop music: Black Metal 2. The British musician’s signature sound echoes throughout the 23-minute mini-album:

his muddy baritone against the harmonization of album companion Joanne Robertson and her hazy vocals, along with lazy soulful guitars, warm string sections and production that rings snares and bells throughout such playfully short songs. Black Metal 2, the sequel to Dean Blunt’s 2014 enigmatic Black Metal, feels less like a complete work and more like a continuation of a sound that is so confidently strong after the musician’s long and influential career. “DASH SNOW” has been on repeat since the album came out back in July, and no matter how much I listen to Dean Blunt, I somehow always find myself back to these songs, closing my eyes and swaying every inch of my body. Because that’s what his music does to you: It makes your everything sway. His music and lyrics have the effect of knowing something you wish you didn’t, but here you are, and what else can you do, you can’t get away; you can only sit down and listen to Black Metal 2 by Dean Blunt again and again. — Conor Durkin, Daily Arts Writer Jubilee – Japanese Breakfast Japanese Breakfast’s latest release, Jubilee, was by all means the perfect summer album.

Though Michelle Zauner is best known for her heart-wrenching ballads and artistic performances, this 2021 album strays from somber narratives and embraces optimism successfully. Jubilee is the type of alternative pop album that can be blasted in the car equally as well as it can be background music while you’re doing homework.

Read more at MichiganDaily.com

Adin Ross sets bad precedents with Twitch gambling LAINE BROTHERTON Daily Arts Writer

This image is from the official trailer for “Q-Force,” produced by Netflix.

‘Q-Force’ is in your face, for better or for worse SARAH RAHMAN Daily Arts Writer

Mainstream queer television has certainly come a long way in the past several decades.

Before revolutionary shows like “The L Word” or “Orange Is the New Black,” the most the LGBTQ+ community could expect of representation was an offhand reference to a minor queer character (whose existence often served as a punchline) or the implicit representation provided by queerbaiting, wherein media implies non-heterosexual relationships or attraction to engage an LGBTQ+ audience. Slowly but surely, popular television has grown more inclusive in terms of its queer representation, which has led to the creation of shows like Netflix’s “Q-Force,” one of the loudest forms of queer media television has produced to date.

“Q-Force” centers around Steve Maryweather (Sean Hayes, “Will & Grace”), a gay secret agent who graduates at the top of his class from the American Intelligence Agency but is denied cases, promotions and his deserved title of valedictorian because of his LGBTQ+ identity. “Q-Force” is loud and explicit about representing queer culture, unlike the implicit nature of queer representation in the past. However, its representation is still limited to mainstream perceptions of queerness.

Undoubtedly an ode to popular LGBTQ+ culture, the show features many oftenpublicized aspects of the LGBTQ+ community, ranging from drag shows to “iconic” and “slay queen” diction to lesbians loving Subarus. One of the agents’ names is literally “Twink.”

When does a love letter become a mockery?

It’s tough to draw the line between riffing on inside jokes from within the community and making the community into a punchline through exhausted stereotypes. As nearly every joke in the series centers around queer stereotypes, it begins to feel difficult to appreciate the humor rather than cringe away

from it.

A commonly understood theme of comedy is the notion of punching up versus punching down. The comedian ought to aim upward at the most powerful instead of downward at those without a voice. The question arises whether “Q-Force” punches up or down, as well as whether all representation is good representation. What exactly qualifies as progressive representation?

On one hand, Gabe Liedman (“Brooklyn Nine-Nine”), the creator of “Q-Force,” is a gay man himself; thus, the content of the show seems more authentic than it would have had it been created from a heterosexual perspective. Also, the show’s central plot is centered around combating the power hierarchy of a system that discriminates against members of the LGBTQ+ community.

Despite its reliance on queer stereotypes, “Q-Force” is a show unlikely to have been created a decade ago and would have been unthinkable in the decades before that. The fact that a show like “Q-Force” is even possible is a testament to the progress made by the LGBTQ+ community.

The next question we have to answer: Given the community’s growing influence on popular culture, will the perception of the queer community be pigeonholed — becoming essentially a brand — or will queer representation develop into a more nuanced and human definition?

Ultimately, asking an animated comedy show to tackle the entirety of these questions is a lot, but it’s interesting to see where “Q-Force” fits within queer history. The series is unapologetic and provides an opportunity to celebrate and gain insight into a rich and historic culture. You just have to remember this form of representation can be onedimensional, and queerness isn’t limited to the series’ depiction.

Regardless, it’s always nice to see LGBTQ+ culture and relationships on screen, and “Q-Force” is an excellent reminder of how far LGBTQ+ representation has come.

Colors and shapes: That’s all it takes to keep a kid occupied. Throw some auditory stimuli into the mix, and you’ve got a selfsufficient machine equipped to monopolize a child’s neurons for hours. In a way, that’s exactly how I view the microcosm of video game streamers, in all their microphonescreaming grandeur. It’s not for me, and that’s okay; the populace of overzealous 20-somethings is instead embraced by an equally zealous audience of children. Therein lies the foreboding problem.

During a June 9 stream, Twitch streamer Adin Ross accidentally opened a Discord exchange in which a $2 million payment to Ross was discussed. Ross, whose connections to famous rappers turned the floodlights of popularity toward his channel, had at the time been streaming gambling games in crypto casinos, one of which being Duelbits.

Duelbits, alongside several sites of the same nature, is based offshore on the island of Curaçao where the regulations on gambling licenses are lax. Applicants are required to pay a fee, but background checks are negligent — previously approved web casinos have been fronts for money laundering and organized crime. Sites like Duelbits are not subject to legal disputes with customers or any general regulatory measures. There’s nothing withholding Duelbits from flagging users and confiscating their winnings at will or rigging their random-number generators to overturn the odds to the house.

The U.S. government cracks down on sites like Duelbits, effectively banning their service, but a powerful enough VPN can grant access to American players and prevent them from being tracked. Cryptocurrency adds another layer of protection — Duelbits accepts Ethereum, Bitcoin, Litecoin and Dogecoin, eliminating banks and credit card companies as third parties. Users might be traced by their cryptocurrency wallets, but the blockchain network ultimately offers unprecedented anonymity and control over one’s funds.

In the case of Ross, what’s happening is quite simple: He hops on live, tacks a promo code to his stream, spends a few hours betting on Duelbits’ offerings of virtual slot machines, blackjack or roulette and gets rich.

Sometimes he loses money, but that means it’s all the more exciting when he wins big. Either way, Ross is paid six to seven figures a month to gamble, so what difference does it make?

On YouTube, some of his best moments are clipped and re-uploaded. The titles of these videos give away the high-stakes nature of Ross’s streams: “ADIN ROSS WINS $300,000 GAMBLING IN MEXICO,” “ADIN ROSS LOSES $100K IN 10 MINUTES!!

(HILARIOUS).” Ross loses money, but he wins more frequently — at least, the videos of him winning surpass those of him losing, both in quantity and in view count.

Even without YouTube views, Ross is popular with almost 5 million followers and 34 million total views on Twitch. It takes little imagination to think of what kinds of people are watching Ross endorse casino games. The issue is that 37.9% of Twitch’s active users are between the ages 10 and 19. The math favors a fanbase of a whole lot of minors who aren’t equipped with the foresight needed to renounce the act of gambling, especially when their favorite streamer is adamant about its greatness.

In an archived Twitch stream of the H3 Podcast, YouTuber Ethan Klein hosts Ross alongside streamers Hasan Piker and Matthew Rinaudo, and the four hash out over a Zoom call. Rinaudo, known on the site as Mizkif, was also briefly involved in gambling on Twitch. Most of the conversation takes place between Klein and Ross, as the focus of the episode is the gambling controversy.

When Ross is confronted with accusations that he’s doing something objectively wrong, he doesn’t hesitate to agree.

Klein inquires, “You have no problem peddling gambling to children, that’s a more soulless act than not smiling, wouldn’t you agree?”

Ross breaks into a cheeky grin before responding, “It’s fun!”

It’s easy to understand how Ross gets so caught up in the scheme. The live events are so emotionally charged that it feels like intruding — imagine a Las Vegas casino, but with a camera propped up at every machine. In one video, Ross leans forward in concentration, eyes locked on the whirring images of shiny multicolored gems. He shouts expletives at the game as if to intimidate it into improving his odds. When he scores, he grins widely. When he scores big, he claps, shouts and jumps in his seat, as zaps of adrenaline take a physical form. This is what the kids are interested in — the thrilling nature of the game, the scintillating stunt of victory.

Age is the fundamental issue — in every sense, promoting gambling to children is deeply, unequivocally wrong. To watch someone experience unprecedented peaks of euphoria upon winning a life-changing amount of money is extremely dangerous to the impressionable; these are moments that should not be broadcasted, that no child should ever see.

There’s a reason why the federal government age-restricts gambling. Children and adolescents are more likely to gamble for entertainment, to compete with their friends or to relieve boredom, as opposed to adults who are more motivated by the advantage of a financial boost. The effects of gambling are thus exacerbated on young brains — substance abuse, interpersonal difficulties and a host of mental health problems can result. A lack of research clouds our understanding of treatment options, but if an Adin Ross fan falls victim to the grave reality of a gambling problem, Ross will hold on tighter to his earnings, with all but an impertinent smirk to offer in return.

As for Ross, he is not trying to run from being canceled, or to avoid some scandal; he accepts the allegations in a way that almost feels unexpected. He knows what he’s doing, and he knows that it’s wrong. If the circumstances were different, it would almost be unfair to expect a 20-year-old to be a knight of virtue and turn down a lifechanging sum of money.

I’m 19 years old, and I just started making my own doctor’s appointments — and I mean just started. Independence is a looming shadow under the water, an unflinching fact of life that I will soon have to embrace. This is the age for opening a checking account and finding a cheap apartment, not deciding how to spend millions of dollars in excess cash. In fact, I spend almost every conscious minute distracting myself from existential confusion and thoughts about my future — it’s hard to speak for Ross because he is so alienated from the triviality of the college-aged person. If he wasn’t sitting proudly in moral purgatory, I might feel bad for Ross; maybe somewhere in there is a deeply misguided kid, blinded by millionaire tunnel vision.

The nature of digital celebrities brings about a new kind of autonomy for young stars, because the internet is not an industry in the way Hollywood is. There are less talent scouts and big studio contracts — instead, as the product, the internet celebrity governs the way they carry themself in the virtual realm with minimal guidance.

Ross accepted the money because he’s the guy in charge, even though this choice may bear detriment to his future as a successful figure. He might not be mainstream enough to attract the likes of tabloid journalism, but he is important enough to influence a large niche audience. Ross, at the age of 20, is granted this formidable power and platform, and he uses it to peddle the most harmful habit next to drugs.

While Ross is entitled to his own poor judgment, Twitch is entitled to operating a safe, accessible platform. To answer the question of “who let this happen,” we must fixate the accusatory glare on the site itself.

Ross, accompanied by several others like him, operates under the rules of the website — rules that have failed to condemn online gambling as a whole. Twitch’s terms of service impose a blanket policy prohibiting illegal activity, but restrictions against gambling streams are not specifically written.

What we see on Twitch is streamable, and anything streamable is monetized. While there’s still a chance to set a precedent and wholly condemn online gambling, Twitch willfully neglects the issue; their inaction serves to convince more streamers that it’s okay to Adin Ross-ify their content.

There should be a serious incentive to act the opposite, but the website’s accommodation of gambling implies a grim future of Twitch as a destination for brand advertising and unscrupulous money-grabs, a platform on which ethics are thrown out the window.

Michigan in Color Being Muslim in a post 9/11 world

6 — Wednesday, September 15, 2021

kickball with hushed voices. If their parents ever peeked out the window and found they were out of sight — possibly spending time with two young Muslim children — they called them back inside immediately and would keep them there until my brother and I went back home. Then, and only then were Dylan and Lauren allowed back outside.

This tiringly endless cycle continued on, but the measly half hour of fun with them was worth it. One week, they stopped coming out to play. We were only informed by the fading chalk note they left on the sidewalk that they had moved out because Dylan and Lauren weren’t allowed to say goodbye.

My brother Ali was 5. I was 6. *** Ramadan rolled around during the school year. I had fasted for the first time the year before, but only a few scattered days, so I was committed to fasting the full month this time.

My parents were worried I would get hungry and dehydrated at school. Not wanting to discourage me, they told me it would be easier to fast on the weekends and that I would be rewarded with goodies and prizes, but after a long night of begging and pleading, they reluctantly agreed. As my mom dropped me and my brothers off to school the next morning, she reminded me it would be okay to just fast until lunchtime and then she bid me farewell. But I was too excited and determined to prove my strength. When lunchtime rolled around, the kids in the cafeteria bombarded me with questions, noting that I didn’t grab a lunch tray or take out my lunchbox. I protested giving them an explanation, and finally they came to their own prejudiced conclusion: that my parents were neglectful and forced me not to eat.

They said I should be adopted by new parents that would love and feed me. My classmates continued discussing my family situation — as if I wasn’t there — as my brother’s kindergarten teacher started rounding his class up for recess. He saw me and ran up for a hug. Now that everyone knew I had a sibling, the conversation grew deeper. One girl, who was adopted, declared it would be hard to find a family willing to take in two kids, and that we probably wouldn’t stay together.

My brother Ahmed was 6. I was 10. *** We were in line to board the plane on our way to Jordan. My brothers and I were so excited that we didn’t get a lick of sleep the night before. As per usual, my dad had us at the airport 6 hours before departure “just in case.” It was a good thing he did. After completing the customary security checks, we were all pulled aside for a “random” TSA check. We were heavily interrogated before even setting our bags down, and my youngest

MARIAM ODEH MiC Columnist

Every year around this time, the stares intensify. It doesn’t matter that I was born here or that I’ve lived here my entire life. The sense of estrangement in the country that I am a citizen of is as severe as ever.

It’s been 20 years.

I am only 19.

So why am I regarded as a monster?

How can I bear responsibility for something I wasn’t even alive to witness?

Why am I expected to apologize for the actions of those I have no connection to?

Is it because I am Muslim?

Is it because I wear the hijab?

Is it because I speak Arabic?

What about my identity makes it so easy for America to pin its grief on me?

Anti-Muslim profiling and surveillance of communities. Unlawful detentions.

Racist immigration policies and bans that tore families apart. Endless wars waged in the name of fighting terror. Hundreds of thousands of children, mothers and fathers murdered in cold blood. Millions more displaced. Afghanistan, Iraq, Pakistan, Yemen. All scapegoats for securing America’s world dominance, ensuring this country remains number one at all costs.

As we step out of our apartment, my roommate and I laugh about random TSA checks we’ve endured and the potential of being hate crimed. But this feeling is anything but funny. This is the life of many other Muslims living in Westernized societies around the world.

Especially those of us who wear hijabs.

Especially those of us with obvious Muslim names.

Especially those of us forced to directly witness American imperialism unfold under the visage of fighting terrorists.

Lives altered forever. Intergenerational trauma lingering, waiting to explode like bombs suspended in the air. People abandoning their identity and livelihoods out of fear. Triple checking anything and everything they say or do. Because God forbid you make a mistake. God forbid you mess up. *** As my Muslim parents taught me about the beauty of Islam and the love and empathy it preaches, the military family next door fed their children propganda about my religion, filling their hearts and minds with hatred towards all Muslims.

When Dylan and Lauren would come out to play, my brother and I would hide around the porch, waiting in anticipation as they rushed into our backyard to indulge in

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brother was starting to get antsy. I reached over to my bag to grab the stuffed animal I had been carrying for him. Immediately, the TSA agent told me to stop what I was doing and grabbed his walkie talkie to call for backup. We were the first ones to check in, but the last ones to board the flight.

My brother Amin was 5. I was 14. *** Terrorist. Towel head. Camel jockey. Goat f***er. Sand n***er.

The anti-Muslim slurs and hate go on for decades.

Then, there is also this aggression towards the religion of Islam as a whole that stems from preconceived notions of associating Muslim women who cover themselves with oppression and this belief that western women must provide them with secular liberation. This idea of “colonial feminism” falsely labels the hijab or veil as a sign of oppression, but gives no support to things like women’s right to education or suffrage. It is used to justify past colonization of and current war in the Middle East, all done under the guise of fighting for the rights and dignities of Muslim women. Rather than focus on the actual safety and health of women in the Middle East, North Africa and South Asia, the United States and Europe use “the freedom to unveil” as a tactic for waging wars, colonizing

lands,and extracting valuable resources.

The obsession with this unveiling of Muslim women connects back to the savior complex of the West and their Orientalist view of the East; white men saving brown women from brown men. These white men have no actual concern for “saving” brown women, they are more so ridding the brown man of all that is “his” while simultaneously pinning him as the danger. Essentially, either way women are not concerned for, but painting their freedom as the motivation provides access and acclaim to the white man without him having to do anything other than harm the brown man.

This othering of the East allows the West to justify the wars they wage while granting them impunity, aiding them in furthering their own personal gain and economic agendas.

With this piece, I do not intend to center my plight or dissect Orientalism while discrediting the pain of those who lost loved ones on 9/11. I do, however, want to bring light to an oftentimes forgotten group. A group that is facing the violent and blatantly hateful consequences of a day and event they had nothing to do with. A group that is constantly expected to condemn and apologize for the actions of others they don’t know, but of whom they have become assumed accomplices. A double standard that their white, Christain counterparts are not held to.

An emotionally draining barrage of questions that will always have us on the defensive: “Does your religion promote terrorism?

Doesn’t jihad mean killing all non-Muslims?

Why do you guys hate America so much?”

We don’t hate America so much. We hate America’s foriegn policy that advocates for the destruction of the countries we belong to. We hate that the American government engages in imperialism abroad. We hate that America feels so entitled to our natural resources to the point where forever wars have become the norm. But I don’t hate America as a whole nor am I rooting for its destruction. My parents came to America to pursue their own higher education and give me and my brothers the chance at a better life.

Opportunities. Freedom. A fighting chance to live a life free of war and destruction. But this war and destruction that my family was forced to flee didn’t just “come to be.” It’s part of an endless cycle of colonial imperialism.

White supremacy. Orientalism. A cycle filled with intergenerational trauma and pain.

One that America is at the forefront of. But I am still an American citizen. And though this country is far from perfect, it is still my country.

Read more at MichiganDaily.com

My summer commute EASHETA SHAH MiC Columnist

Release Date: Wednesday, September 15, 2021

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Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis

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Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle

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puzzle by sudokusnydictation.com

ACROSS 1 Wine, with “the” 6 Athletic gripper 11 5 mL, in some recipes 14 Big state 15 Believer in karma 16 Order from a stool, maybe 17 Delighted 19 Cartoon collectible 20 Back-combs 21 __ sock 23 Last one in, competitively 26 Folklore cave dwellers 27 Jipijapa hat, familiarly 28 Call it a day 30 Stephen Hawking’s journalist daughter 31 Mouth-watering reaction?

32 Forest female 35 Not online, briefly 36 Delighted 38 Bit of wordplay 39 Eastern principle 40 Theater parts 41 Listen to 42 Log-in need 44 The “P” in TAFKAP 46 “No doubt” 48 Kept from leaking, in a way 49 Spun flax fabric 50 Sear and simmer 52 “__ dreaming?”

53 Delighted 58 Prefix with dairy or fat 59 Math calculations 60 Mild oath 61 “Affirmative, cap’n” 62 Like survey questions with two boxes 63 Stick-on decoration

DOWN 1 Trailblazer in the muscle car category 2 Gun for a race 3 Tool that’s swung 4 At some point during a trip, say 5 Great regard 6 Storage furniture 7 Margarita garnish 8 Ten-time all-star Slaughter 9 It may be about nothing 10 Medieval estates 10 Sushi choice

31 Sandwich seller 33 Unit of perfume 34 Wrapped up 36 Packers home 37 Voldemort’s title 41 It’s unlimited with some rentals 43 Take in 44 Forked over 45 Didn’t dawdle 46 Comedian Glazer 47 Longtime Shatner co-star

48 Affirmative playground retort 50 Tourney passes 51 Horse of a certain color 54 Old-timey “before” 55 Ms. __-Man 56 Acronym for unabashed intimacy 57 DKNY competitor

ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:

11 Delighted 12 Be in a bee 13 Doesn’t measure up 18 “It __ familiar ring to it” for an actor 22 Alert 22 Checkout Word on aprintout 24 French passport 23 “Morning Took off Edition” 26 24 Dern or Linney 25 Delighted 26 Bank heist unit 28 One of the deadly sins 29 Comics punch lines?

09/15/21 09/08/21

By Stephanie Lesser ©2021 Tribune Content Agency, LLC

09/15/21

WHISPER “Meet me at our spot.”

“Soundscape.”

The afternoon sky seems to bleed forever as the highway traffic drives closer into its abyss. Cars race past me: 20 over the limit, determined to get to where they’re going. I take a sip of water, and I let my left hand slide down the steering wheel.

Drinking more water seems like the right thing to do. I drink more water. Listen to more podcasts. I’m not really listening though. I switch between catastrophic daily news, philosophical food for thought and niche playlists made by my best friend from high school. Anything to keep me from forming a thought of my own.

Commuting in silence felt like a waste of time.

More accurately, spending time with myself felt like a waste of time.

I had been back and forth all summer.

Between my hometown and my college town.

Between the home I grew out of and the home I grew into.

On the road again before the end of the week.

Just me and my little red Nissan.

I was unreachable.

I was a nomad.

I used to be envious of the vagabond.

Detached from Destination, they were free to roam.

How liberating that must feel. But I don’t feel like that. I feel trapped.

Trapped by repetitive days. Trapped by my own company.

I was never really good at spending time with myself.

My summer commute left me with no choice.

- Packing List: - Work Uniform - Extra Gym Clothes - Laptop - Follow through on plans with college friend - Grab g roceries before I get to my place Shit. I forgot my vitamins again.

I merge onto the M-14 highway.

I run through lists in my head and

forgive my forgetfulness. Co-Star told me to be kind to myself today. It’s good to believe in something. Even if it’s some shitt y astrolog y app. I queue up Lorde’s “Mood Ring ” just for the irony. I was desperately chasing after some kind of eudaimonic well being, hoping it would be the antidote to my chronic Pure Heroine phase.

Driving is one of those things I often crave when I need to think or be alone. When I need to escape reality.

When I’m not focused on where I’m headed. But these days, I wish I could reach the Destination faster.

These days, this commute feels like a very painful purgatory between places of belonging.

Between versions of myself.

The human condition frequently centers around being rather than becoming. A podcast I’ve grown to like speaks of this in the most metaphysical sense — in the way that nothing is static and everything is constantly changing at the most elemental level. But on those drives when the stereo can no longer pacif y my demanding thoughts, I’m focused on everything I am not — everything I am not being and everything I am not becoming. I know that’s not fair to myself, and I resent my hostilit y.

Soon enough, Interstate 275 blurs from my vision and the month’s repressed tears spill over.

Driving in a storm activates my fight or f light.

This time, though, I choose to fight.

I choose to soften my bitterness.

Partly because it’s an exhausting emotion. Partly because I deserve better. I switch on my wipers, forging ahead. And when the rain subsides, I discover sparse roots of healing. The very crooked healing that makes you weary. Weary and impatient.

With every red light and detour, my impatience intensifies. But I can only think of moving forward.

I am becoming. My being is always becoming.

This is me believing in something more. I may not be There yet, but I’m on my way.

June, July and Aug ust slip away in monotonous movements. And maybe somewhere along the way, I made peace with this two-laned concrete journey of mine.

Michigan in Color Second-guessing my future

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

SAFURA SYED MiC Columnist

I haven’t sat in a class like this in almost a year. One of my professors is talking in the front of the classroom about something — I’m listening to his voice but he’s talking too fast for me to follow. The lights in the room are dull but loud, nurturing a slight whining noise in my ears.

I actually like this setting: the familiar musty smell of an old building, the act of sitting next to strangers and the faint noise of the fluorescents. Even though none of these things are enjoyable by themselves, I like it because it makes me feel normal, as if school is finally becoming what I expect and remember it to be.

As much as I enjoy the normalcy of it all, I can’t help but feel a little uneasy spending all of my effort trying to understand what people are saying. We started syllabus week in some of my classes by going around and introducing ourselves: year, major, hobbies. Most people are sure of themselves — they’ve decided on what they will focus on, a decision that will tell them how to navigate the rest of their years here as well as help them make plans about their postuniversity future.

I’m still a little confused, though. Not about college in general — I feel like I’ve been here long enough to be able to outline what is going on socially and academically — but about my future. Last year,

when I entered the University as an undeclared freshman, my advisor encouraged me to think about what I wanted to do in the future and reflect on what I enjoyed in the present. I listened to her advice and even followed it, but I struggled to engage when I asked myself about my future and even my likes and dislikes.

It seems a little pathetic to admit I hardly know what I enjoy and what I don’t. Do I like this because I am actually interested in it, or is it just easy?

Is this actually easy or did they just grade easily? Am I actually good at this at all? What if I get to the higher levels and start to hate it? But do I even have to like it at all as long as it pays my bills?

I’m paying tuition and striving toward a degree, but so far I have no idea what I’d like that degree to say. I’ve always been indecisive — sometimes I close UberEats because I’m too overwhelmed by the number of choices I have — and a part of me feels like my time is starting to run out. I have to declare by the end of next semester, but I am as lost as I was in freshman year.

My major and my future plans come up often at my family dinner table or during family FaceTimes. When I click on the group call notification, I prepare myself to hear the question: So did you decide what you’re going to do? I’ve never been able to form a concrete response to this; the questions of the future still seem so far even as they draw nearer. I am

the type of person who takes things as they come, someone who doesn’t necessarily plan ahead. Even writing follows that process for me — I never know what my endpoint is, but my words figure themselves out along the way and everything eventually turns out to be passable. I am waiting for the pieces of my life to fit together in the way that these sentences do so that I can eventually reach some epiphany, some sort of push towards figuring out what I want for myself. “I’ll figure it out eventually,” has always been my motto, because things usually do align properly for me eventually. But the truth is that I want too many things and sometimes see too many possibilities, obfuscating the goals that I am searching for until I am completely overwhelmed by them.

It’s not just the possibilities that are so unnerving to me, but also the uncertainties that they all carry. I wish I could watch all of my possible futures and then choose which one suits me best, like reading the walkthrough for a video game. Should I follow my love of writing?

Biology? Academia? I can’t ask Google what choices I should make to create the best ending of my life. We’re all oblivious to the future, but sometimes I feel like I’m unaware of my own thoughts.

Worrying about the future and its ambiguities obviously won’t go away once I decide what I want to pursue academically. My indecision won’t, either. And yet, that task

of narrowing things down feels so integral to my ideas of the

Wednesday, September 15, 2021 — 7

life outside of the structure of academia, so it feels like there

from one of my family members, my friends talking about their

Design by Megan Young

future. I know, technically, that I can always change my mind and that I can choose so many different things for myself after my years here are over. I know that I’m still young and that I have time to explore the world, myself and my interests. But the things that I know to be true can’t change the way that I feel right now. My logic is betraying me. In the long run, time isn’t running out but in the present, time is slipping away. Though I have a whole life ahead of me, I only have two years of college left. I can’t exactly imagine a

are only two years left to figure my life out.

My anxiety about timing should push me to try to discover what I want from myself, but every time I look inward I get stuck in the same positive feedback loop of knowing I need to think about my options, worrying about the consequences of making the wrong choice and then shutting down out of sheer worry and frustration. I’ll enter my normal and easy-going state until something flips the switch on the anxiety again: a question

research, mentions of LinkedIn connections. I feel so utterly behind from the rest of my peers mostly because many of them seem to have everything planned out.

I’m told by my family that I need to take a more active role and start to push outwards instead of reflecting inwards towards myself, which is what I usually do when I’m confused.

But even that leaves me at a loss.

Push out towards what exactly?

If I knew, I wonder if I would second-guess myself out of the answer.

Social media[ting] the soul KARIS CLARK MiC Columnist

Last Saturday at the Big House, I saw a sea of Maize-and-Blue — as it is often described whenever we convene at the stadium — complete with bodies packed and bleachers stacked in undulating exaltation. Hours later, a similar sea moving in a much faster fashion rushed ashore on the surface of my phone as one by one, post after post flooded my feed all in service to gameday.

But let’s be clear. Gameday photos are never a monolith. They exist in multitudes.

There’s the tailgate pic at the pregame, the pic in front of the stadium, the pic inside the stadium whilst standing in the crowd, the stadium selfie, and the enduring pic exemplifying the view of the vast amalgamation of fans, players, stadium decorations, lights and iconography.

Nonetheless, the feed dries. The game day hype (temporarily) dies, but I know with

ARIES

Your ruler Mars shifts into your love zone – expect more passion, but potentially plenty of anger too.

great certainty the wave will return, not just offline, but online too.

Aquatic allegories aside, it’s no secret that social media and our use of it play serious roles in our lives. Many of us now recognize it as having a pathological character to it, as exemplified in documentaries like “The Social Dilemma” (2020) and psychological thrillers like “Black Mirror.” We can see a common critique of digital connection daily as we witness more and more the rejection of the online coupled with the glorification of the offline, leading us to demonize the former through our veneration of the latter. Yet this precipitous perspective, rooted in what social theorist Nathan Jurgenson describes in his book “The Social Photo: On Photography and Social Media” as digital dualism, creates a false separation of the online and offline world. This false separation fails to take into consideration the vastness and variety social media and online platforms offer to us as human beings and spiritual entities. Indeed, our

preoccupation with social media suggests that there is something profound to be found in the digital mediation of our lives.

Our soul’s desire for life in documented form manifests itself in a myriad of means.

Journals, letters, diaries, scrapbooks and social media platforms all mediate our memory and lived experience into a materialized entity. French film critic André Bazin, in his text “The Ontology of the Photographic Image,” likens the documentation technology of photography to the embalming of the dead. In taking a photo, a formerly transient reality earns an eternal quality.

The moment is not mourned. Instead, death is transgressed and the instance is immortalized. The past is preserved in the present, and what’s fleeting is now fodder for the future, forever. Photos freeze a place and time into eternity. Evidently, our souls crave to make that which is transient transcend time and space.

Yet with our near-omniscient power of preservation, this documentary impulse is

YOUR WEEKLY

TAURUS

Don’t let vague fears and worries hold you back this week. Mars creates possibly too much self-analysis in your life.

AQUARIUS

WHISPER

Mars drives you to increase your knowledge, but actually, you already have more skills than you realize, if only you look within.

“Ugh.” GEMINI

CAPRICORN Mars’ arrival in your career zone stirs up your ambitions, but you may be questioning the authenticity or value of what you do.

“I’ve never heard of that brand...”

CANCER Mars’ arrival in your family zone drives you to seek solutions to lingering issues, but be careful to do so tactfully, not aggressively.

LEO It’s an extremely busy week, but there are optimistic signs regarding job interviews, promotions or other success at work.

the eye, as well as the employment of the body as a site for exhibition. As French literary theorist Roland Barthes states in his text “Camera Lucinda,” “Once I feel myself observed by the lens, everything changes: I constitute myself in the process of posing, I instantaneously make another body for myself, I transform in advance into an image.” The particularities of posing, the postures and the physicality involved in creating social media content convince me to believe that there is, indeed, a performing artist inside of each

PISCES

A new drive for health and fitness this week is likely to succeed as your willpower is exceptionally strong now.

You’ll enjoy the edgy feel to this week, and you’ll love taking chances – but your recklessness may be cause for concern.

easily exploited, leaving us to ponder what is and what is not worth documenting.

Jurgenson maintains that our everyday participation in social photography restructures our minds so that our life is “experienced in the service of its documentation.” With an audience always at our disposal, we see the world through the lens of others. This compulsion for documentation and the making of media has heavy implications for our memory. As José van Dijik, distinguished new media professor, discusses in her book “Mediated

SAGITTARIUS You have lofty humanitarian goals this week, but it’s important not to overlook your existing commitments to work and family.

“Christmas but make it Fall.”

VIRGO The arrival of Mars in your money zone is very motivational, so this is a fantastic week for business or for side hustles of any kind.

LIBRA Mars’ arrival in your sign brings a boost to your assertiveness and confidence, and an all-round feel-good factor – but be careful with the chances you take.

SCORPIO Don’t be surprised if you feel less sociable than normal as Mars begins to transit your privacy zone.

Enjoy your own company.

Read your weekly horoscopes from astrology.tv

Design by Janice Lin

Memories in the Digital Age,” media and memory are not separate from each other, but constantly intertwining, as the former intensifies, contaminates and even usurps the latter. When what we remember from the past is primarily based on the curated collection of content created for the sake of others, we’re left to wonder what that does to our sense of self.

As American sociologist Charles Horton Cooley’s theory of the lookingglass self espouses, we have a tendency to base our sense of self on the perception of others. Critics of social media claim that its performative nature erodes the expression of our authentic selves. Success theater and status posturing, as Jurgenson describes it, do play a role in the cultivation of our Internet personas. Yet Jurgenson argues that these conflicts between the authentic and performative selves transcend social media. He believes the assumption that the performative self is based on non-truth often implies that the authentic self, or the act of being true to oneself, assumes there is truth in the self to begin with.

Everyday life, with its persistent perception on behalf of others, ensures that the self is largely a performance. In this vein, it makes sense that social media is also performative fiction. Beyond our souls’ desire for documentation is the desire for performance as well. This does not necessarily mean performance in a theatrical sense, but much of the soul of social media can be found in its theatrics.

We see evidence of this in the aesthetics cultivated in each application, the need for evoking imagery that is pleasing to

one of us, awaiting its opportunity to take the stage.

Turning the lights up on this stage allows us to see that there’s always more than meets the eye in every social media photo, video or post. All content invites us into a world of imagination and mystery — hallmarks of the soul, according to Jungian psychotherapist Thomas Moore.

Social media carries with it an infinity of imaginative elements. As French philosopher Georges Bataille believed, any accumulation of knowledge is also an accumulation of non-knowledge. A single post contains as much ignorance as it does insight, if not more. Jurgenson notes that there is an obscenity to our online personas in the desire to reveal and expose details of our everyday lives, but also a seduction in which we “strategically withhold knowledge to create magical and enchanted interests.” One photo, tweet or status update can raise a continuum of questions — who we’re with, what we’re doing, how we’re doing and where we are — all centered around the object of interest. We become intrigued and seek to intrigue others in the details of our dayto-day lives. Anyone who has ever had a crush on somebody knows the feeling of going to the profile page of their newfound interests and marveling at the mystery inherent in the media. Our souls have strong desires for attachment to people, places and objects; social media allows us to preserve our attachments with very little effort.

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Opinion

8 — Wednesday, September 15, 2021

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A threat to women anywhere is a threat to women everywhere ISABELLE SCHINDLER Opinion Columnist

W

omen’s reproductive rights are under assault in Texas. The passage of a new anti-abortion law by the conservative state legislature and the complicity of the Supreme Court has endangered the freedom and safety of women across Texas and the entire nation.

At midnight on Sept. 1, 2021, a new anti-abortion law went into effect in Texas. This law prohibits women from obtaining an abortion if a fetal heartbeat is detected.

Fetal heartbeats can be detected as early as six weeks, before many women know they are pregnant.

Therefore, this new law all but ensures that countless women in Texas will not have access to safe abortion services. This law is so restrictive that it does not even have exceptions for cases of rape or incest.

The Texas law is unique compared to other “heartbeat bills” in that it does not set criminal penalties for violating the ban.

Instead, the law allows private citizens to sue anyone who helps women receive an abortion if a fetal heartbeat is present.

This means that private citizens with no relationship to the patient can sue anyone who is even tangentially connected to the patient. Therefore, everyone from a doctor, to a partner, to the Uber driver who drove the woman to the clinic could be sued if the abortion was performed with a heartbeat present.

The law reads like a scene from Margaret Atwood’s “The Handmaid’s Tale,” with the government exerting control over

women’s reproductive health and encouraging people to spy on each other and report to the authorities.

Anti-abortion groups in Texas have already set up whistleblower sites to encourage people to turn in clinics and individuals they believe are violating the new law.

Opponents of the bill have warned that anti-abortion groups will use this law as a pretext to continuously sue clinics, causing major financial and legal hardship to clinics that provide a wide range of health services beyond abortion services.

In the case of other so-called “heartbeat laws,” the United States Supreme Court has prevented the laws from going into effect.

The court had continually used the precedent set in the landmark Roe vs. Wade Supreme Court decision, which established the constitutional right to obtain an abortion. However, after a day of silence, the Supreme Court ruled late at night on Sept. 1 that the Texas abortion ban can be implemented while challenges to the law work their way through the federal court system.

The shocking 5-4 decision, with most conservative justices ruling in favor of the abortion ban, effectively gutted the constitutional protections of Roe vs. Wade in Texas.

This ruling of the court will have major repercussions beyond Texas. Other conservative states have signaled that they will try to pass similar legislation. Even if the Supreme Court eventually strikes down this law, the precedent set in Wednesday night’s ruling sends a message that this highly conservative court does not intend to protect reproductive rights.

The impact that this bill will have

on women in Texas and beyond is truly dire. At only six weeks, many women will not know they are pregnant and will therefore miss their window to receive the care they need.

This bill is especially callous because it will harm lower-income women at a much higher rate. For women in Texas, the only way to receive care after six weeks is to travel out of state, but for many women, this is an unattainable solution. Traveling out of state to receive reproductive health care is not possible for many women.

The cost of traveling out of state, time required to take off of work or other commitments are factors that disproportionately bar lowerincome women from accessing safe abortions. On the other hand, those who have wealth can access abortions with relative ease.

The women who cannot afford to go out of state to receive care may turn to unsafe measures instead.

We have seen in the past that when abortion is not legal, women will utilize unsafe methods to terminate their pregnancy, which can result in severe injury or death.

Even women who do receive care before a heartbeat is detected will likely be plagued with fear that someone could find out about their procedure and attempt to initiate a lawsuit against people in their lives, or even those barely related, such as the aforementioned ride-share driver.

The ruling by the Supreme Court has made women across the United States less free and sent a message that women cannot have autonomy over their bodies and their health care decisions. It is up to all of us to speak in opposition to this ruling and use our voice and our vote to protect reproductive rights.

Apple isn’t the problem, we are.

LILY KWAK Opinion Columnist

I

magine a technological innovation that can weed out child predators hiding in the dark pockets of the internet — a beautiful, life-saving move that prioritizes safety and protection and one the architect should be celebrated for.

Now imagine opposition, resistance and dissent toward that tool — specifically, rooted in fears of technological abuse and contaminated privacy.

Apple has been facing criticism recently for a new policy aimed at protecting minors from child sexual abuse material. This backlash is ridiculous. And I support Apple’s decision to introduce new regulations and technology that “empowers people and enriches their lives.”

Last month, I moved back to my childhood home where I finally confronted my hoarder tendencies and upturned a closet flooded with Zhu Zhu pets, my Rainbow Loom kit, Orbeez, a Nintendo DS and too many Silly Bandz and Sticky Hands.

As old memories began to surge back into my mind, I couldn’t help but think about the experiences of kids that enter into an already present social media world. It is frustrating and concerning that younger kids confront the same space that gives adults body insecurities and adverse mental health effects; that they live in a world where cyberbullying is widespread and normal.

How are we changing, really?

How is technology changing us?

A recent Ezra Klein Show episode on The New York Times hosted

guest L.M. Sacasas, author of the newsletter The Convivial Society, to discuss 41 questions concerning technology. Sacasas pulls from 20th-century philosophers of technology to argue that technology is not an innocent medium — we become these tools and are reshaped by them. The choices we make and the habits we form in the virtual world spill out and become reality.

His questions directed me to take a backseat from the technocentric screen and consider our generation’s relationship with technology: When we spew unfiltered, negative comments just because we can’t see the person behind the screen, what sort of person does that make us? When we fill open cracks of time with a subconscious, trained flick of the thumb to open Snapchat or TikTok, what experiences does that prevent? What rituals, conversations, relationships, spontaneous moments? When we post on Instagram and obsessively submit to ‘like’ and follower counts, are we being authentic to ourselves or are we just performances ourselves, hungry for the audience’s approval? When we persist in a toxic relationship with social media platforms, is it anxiety and fear keeping us hanging on? Why do we continue?

In a place where saying anything is better than saying nothing, misinformation thrives. This form of social media undermines us and makes our lives worse.

In its infant stage, social media was seemingly innocent, welcoming society with boundless freedom and individual expression (remember the world of Dylan O’Brien’s homemade sketches on YouTube,

or very random highly filtered Instagram posts?) Because of that nostalgic optimism, I understand the hesitation or objections to regulation that feels as though companies are stealing the magic of the virtual society. People are afraid of limited rights, reveling in the current state of nature where we stand as equal beings without a form of government and legislature to restrain us.

In the political sphere, libertarians value a minimal state and maximum individual rights.

They hate being used for the sake of others’ welfare (think seatbelt laws or income redistribution from the rich to the poor). Applied to the virtual society, I think it’s analogous to hating regulation as a means for the collective welfare of technology users (think privacy breach complaints amidst efforts of child pornography surveillance).

John Locke argues that there are inconveniences in a state of nature, namely over-aggression in punishment and heightened violence, which ultimately leaves people insecure in their enjoyment of their inalienable rights. Users “cancel” influencers in extreme measures, often accompanied by suicide threats.

Sometimes we find ourselves overcome with unbearable anxiety in a toxic environment and delete social media apps for weeks. In our developing virtual society, we need to find civility and recover the ability to enjoy our rights to life, liberty and happiness by striking a balance between individual rights and the common good.

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JULIAN BARNARD Senior Opinion Editor

B

itcoin is, for the time being, on the up and up. Earlier this year, Venmo, a financial services company, announced that it will be incorporating Bitcoin transactions into its platform, as the currency recently surpassed a record value of $63,000 per coin. Though Bitcoin has many benefactors in the tech executive class and beyond, this cryptocurrency has limited utility compared to the cost that it takes to maintain the entire system. .

An indictment of Bitcoin is not an indictment of blockchain technology — the multi-agent authentication system on which Bitcoin operates — or its many other uses. Bitcoin, outside of the fact that it is a bubble likely to pop, creates more problems for the world than it solves.

Bitcoin has prominent proponents, such as Twitter and Square CEO Jack Dorsey and the Winklevoss twins. It makes sense — a democratized, purely digital currency is exactly the kind of futuristic, disruptive thing tech CEOs flock to. But why is it appealing? What problem is Bitcoin meant to solve?

Proponents will give you a number of answers. The currency is meant to escape the harmful oversight of a central bank, which is allegedly devaluing the money of hard-working Americans. You may have heard a

similar argument from proponents of gold. In reality, the fluctuations in Bitcoin are otherworldly when compared to the stable inflation rate of the U.S. dollar. Even Bitcoin’s original selling point of complete anonymity is going down the drain, as many of the Bitcoin exchange services do in fact require a verified identity.

Bitcoin is much more an (volatile) investment opportunity than a revolutionary way to do commerce.

Economist Nouriel Roubini has called Bitcoin “the mother of all scams” because of how it preys on the least financially literate with promises of revolutionizing the financial systems and the possibility to develop extreme personal wealth. In a speech this August, Gary Gensler, Securities and Exchange Commission chair, called for stricter regulation of the cryptocurrency market. Gensler called the current market “like the Wild West” in terms of protection for vulnerable new investors.

Those already bought into Bitcoin have the most incentive to encourage new investors to buy into the currency because that is the way their personal Bitcoin fortune can increase in value.

In the same way that many first-time investors were left high and dry after the GameStop situation earlier this year, if the hype train slows down, millions of Bitcoin holders will be left holding the check.

Bitcoin has an environmental impact as well. Every Bitcoin

transaction consumes around 500,000 times more energy to authenticate than a traditional online transaction. The immense energy cost of Bitcoin is built into the platform.

Miners, or different computers all over the world who would like to authenticate, are all competing with each other for blocks, or groups, of transactions. This competition, while making the platform secure, also wastes incredible amounts of money on redundancy. Though Bitcoin “mines” are sometimes built in colder climates to alleviate some of the energy cost associated with cooling, (at this stage in the technology) Bitcoin mining still manages to consume more energy than the entire country of Finland.

Cryptocurrencies are already classified as securities and are thus in SEC jurisdiction in some regard, but the issue of taxes is still a weak point in the American crypto regulation scheme. Hopefully, cryptocurrencies will be coming under more stringent tax regulations soon.

The bipartisan infrastructure bill passed by the Senate includes a provision that would require crypto “brokers” to report their client’s cryptocurrencies transactions, much like how stockbrokers are required to report their client’s stock transactions to tax regulators. This reasonable change is expected to bring in $28 billion in previously untaxed revenue.

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Op-Ed: Looking back on the ResStaff strike,one year later TYLER WATT & ZACKARIAH FARAH Contributors

O

ne year ago, our campus felt chaotic. Inadequate testing, spiking COVID-19 cases and thousands of frightened and disgruntled university workers, who, in a shock to the system, declared they were going on strike for better working conditions.

Among these workers were more than a hundred members of University Housing’s Residential Staff who joined the strike to pursue their own demands, in a two-weeklong struggle that University Housing refers to as a “work stoppage.” With the Lecturers’ Union on track to go on strike this month, unmet labor demands could once again deeply impact student life on campus.

Why are so many labor demands not met at our university? To understand this, we should first understand what happened with the largest undergraduate workers’ strike in the University of Michigan’s history, the 2020 ResStaff strike.

Without a union, these undergraduate student employees supported the Graduate Employees’ Organization in their strike, organized in opposition to the University’s fall 2020 reopening plans. After initial requests were not met, and insufficient answers were provided in a ResStaff Town Hall, the strike commenced.

In a move that attracted the attention of national news outlets, the resident advisers held out for two weeks before accepting an offer by U-M administration and returning to work on Sept. 22, 2020.

One factor that explains the hardiness of the ResStaff strike was the overwhelming support on campus. LSA Student Government released a statement in support of the ResStaff strike after a vote of 26-0.

One petition written in support of ResStaff received more than 2,000 signatures before the strike’s end.

GEO organized a solidarity rally with MDining workers and ResStaff. An open letter circulated among nontenured U-M staff garnered nearly 200 signatures. Though support was not universal, it is certain that the ResStaff strike sent ripples throughout Ann Arbor and beyond. *** Looking back on this “stoppage,” we are left to consider: What has changed? Was it a success? Are conditions now better for RAs and other members of ResStaff?

One must look no further than at the strikers’ original demands to evaluate the impact: First: “Regular access to testing for all of ResStaff (not only symptomatic individuals).” The University achieved this early on, offering as-needed testing for all members of the campus community, and mandating weekly testing for residence hall residents (including RAs) in the Winter 2021 semester.

With the campus vaccine mandate

now in effect, weekly testing is no longer mandated by the University except for students and faculty who have not yet received the vaccine or who are exempted.

Second: “Providing sufficient, effective PPE to ResStaff and Students.” Housing provided masks and gloves for ResStaff to use when working in community spaces, as well as plastic face barriers. Students were not extended this same degree of personal protective equipment, though they (and ResStaff) were issued reusable cotton masks as well as U-M-branded bandanas during their move-in.

Third: “Enforcement of social distancing and face coverings inside and outside of residence halls and dining halls” and “enforcement of currently unenforceable guest policy by non-student employees.” Though this policy was in place on paper, there were many reported cases of lax enforcement of U-M policies. The onus was placed on RAs to enforce these policies during their work inside residence halls; dining hall staff did likewise at their workplaces.

It’s unclear whether this demand was ever fully met to the extent that the strikers desired. As part of this demand, RAs desired more stringent consequences for policy breakers.

Whether it was due to this change or not, there were certainly students whose housing contracts were terminated as a result of COVID-19related violations.

form; a stipend of $200 in Blue Bucks was provided to ResStaff, to be used at University-owned restaurants and stores. This one-time payment of “Rick Bucks” (so dubbed after the Director of Housing, Rick Gibson) did not fully meet the strikers’ demands for compensation in recognition of the unique threats of the pandemic.

And lastly: “A formal statement of no retaliation from Housing Administration should a ResStaff Union be formed” and “a formal statement of no retaliation from Housing Administration or University Administration against any ResStaff member who went on strike, is currently on strike, or is supporting the strike.” For many on ResStaff, this point was especially controversial, as ResStaff members allege that Gibson implicitly threatened to fire ResStaff members in a closed-door meeting. Regarding a ResStaff union, the University explicitly declined to make any agreements regarding any sort of future bargaining unit. *** Most of the demands were met, in one way or another, by University Housing. Others will eventually be deemed moot after the end of the pandemic. This does not include, however, the two most important long-term demands: hazard pay and the tacit permission that a ResStaff union may be formed.

It comes as no surprise that the University would want to prevent the

ALLISON ENGKVIST/Daily

Fourth: “Hiring and staffing to normal capacity for all facilities and housing teams.” This demand is harder to pin down, however, given the fact that University Housing’s website has job postings for both undergraduate and graduate communities. It’s likely still the case that the residence halls are not fully staffed at the moment.

Fifth: “More specific public and ResStaff communication and transparency.” University Housing reinstated their policy of providing daily updates to ResStaff members via email; the U-M COVID-19 dashboard also began breaking down case statistics by building and floor.

However, ResStaff members were quick to point out inaccuracies that seemed to appear in the dashboard data.

Sixth: “Hazard pay for ResStaff.”

Most members of ResStaff are not compensated outside of their room and board expenses. ResStaff was not provided with hazard pay in any

formal unionization of ResStaff, given the successes that have been achieved by the RAs already, as well as those achieved by actual unions in the form of GEO and LEO in recent years.

The tactics used by the University to defuse the strike are not new. In the case of the ResStaff strike, the same tactics can continue to be employed.

Most RAs work for a maximum of three years before they graduate.

When they put forth their demands, all the administration needs to do is wait them out. They will graduate and be replaced by students who don’t have the knowledge or confidence to make the same demands. By the time these students become empowered to advocate for themselves, it is often too late, and the cycle repeats.

It’s with this framework in mind that we look toward an uncertain future. Time will only tell what will become of the ResStaff’s unmet demands and whether they emerge as an exception or an embodiment of this cycle.

Sports

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

Wednesday, September 15, 2021 — 9

Wolverine defense stepped into the moment Saturday DANIEL DASH

Daily Sports Editor

LUKE HALES/Daily Michigan sophomore running back Blake Corum rushed for 171 yards and three touchdowns on Saturday.

Corum, Haskins duo dominate the offense against the Huskies JARED GREENSPAN

Daily Sports Editor

On Wednesday, Michigan offensive coordinator Josh Gattis referred to the Wolverines’ running back tandem of sophomore Blake Corum and senior Hassan Haskins as “the perfect combination of thunder and lightning.”

Against Washington on Saturday night, the duo certainly lived up to their billing.

In a game where junior quarterback Cade McNamara threw for just 44 yards, Haskins and Corum paced Michigan’s offense, combining for 326 rushing yards, 48 carries and all four Wolverine touchdowns in a 31-10 victory.

“That warms the cockles of the heart to be able to do that, run the ball that way,” Michigan coach Jim Harbaugh said after the game. “... (Washington was) just having a hard time tackling the backs. When we started breaking the edge pressure, there were some real creases in between the tackles. Our guys hit them.”

In the week leading up to the game, Michigan recognized that Washington’s defense boasted a formidable secondary. As a result, the Wolverines geared their gameplan to the trenches.

Through the first half, the Huskies rotated between an array of defensive looks, none of which proved capable of slowing down Michigan’s relentless ground game.

“We knew coming into this game that we wanted to run the ball and we wanted to run

it down their throat,” senior offensive tackle Ryan Hayes said. “With backs like we have, it makes it pretty easy for the o-line. We knew going into this game that we were going to run the ball as much as we could because they couldn’t really stop it.”

In the early going, Haskins helped set the game’s tone, notching three quick carries for 32 yards, highlighted by a 16-yard burst. Shortly afterwards, Corum made his mark with a 68-yard touchdown run along the Washington sideline, utilizing his speed to dust the safety.

The opening drive of the second half stands as a poster boy for the Wolverines’ success running the ball. In four minutes, Michigan marched down the field for an eight-play, 73-yard touchdown drive. Each of the eight plays resulted in a handoff, with Haskins running for 39 yards and Corum recording 34 yards, along with the touchdown.

“We knew they were getting defeated towards the end of the game and we just kept hitting them and hitting them and hitting them,” Hayes said.

In fall camp, as Michigan spoke of a desire to establish an identity as a running-oriented team, questions loomed over how Corum and Haskins would handle a split-workload. Two games in, those apprehensions have certainly been quelled, as neither Western Michigan last week, nor Washington this week, has managed to stop them.

“We just kinda feed off each other,” Corum said. “We don’t

go into the game thinking, ‘I’m going to get this many carries, you’re gonna get this many carries.’ We just kinda go with the flow.”

The pair complement each other admirably. Haskins, dependable and bruising, is at his best in between the tackles; Corum, a human highlight reel, is most explosive on the edge.

And, even when one of Corum or Haskins receives the bulk of the carries, the other is still incorporated into the play.

It’s indicative of Michigan’s desire to play through both of them on offense, especially in the absence of senior receiver Ronnie Bell, who stood as the Wolverines’ most potent threat on the perimeter.

Against Washington, Corum and Haskins combined for four of McNamara’s seven completions.

“It definitely puts other teams in a (difficult) situation, cause you don’t really know who to stop,” Corum said. “And then sometimes, when we’re in the backfield together, at the same time, that’s probably a little difficult also.”

For the long-haul, this sort of run-dominant approach figures to be unsustainable; at some point, the Wolverines will have to rely on McNamara to air the ball out.

That’s something Michigan surely recognizes. But through two games, Corum and Haskins are wreaking havoc, leaving little need for anything else.

“We’re running backs,” Haskins said. “So if we get to run it a lot, that’s no problem with us.”

From the moment Saturday’s game kicked off, it was clear the Michigan football team’s defense wouldn’t give an inch.

With a “Maize Out” crowd of 108,345 at their back, the Wolverines forced a threeand-out on Washington’s first drive. The Huskies’ next series went four yards in the wrong direction; their third drive only netted two yards. Three quick punts electrified Michigan Stadium as the Wolverines’ offense established an early lead.

All told, Michigan held Washington to a paltry 18 yards in the first quarter and didn’t surrender any first-half points, setting the tone in what ultimately became a telling 31-10 win over a Washington team that debuted in the top 20 of the AP Poll just two weeks ago.

“Seeing the defense ball out like that, it motivates us,” sophomore running back Blake Corum said. “Now it’s our turn to do better and I think that’s what we did throughout the game. The defense had a phenomenal game, they kept shutting them out. I think it just put a little fire in us and motivated us to do a little bit better.”

It feels like a lifetime ago, but some of Michigan’s best teams under coach Jim Harbaugh have been built on defense. The Wolverines led the country in team defense in 2017, and the 2018 team that fell a game short of the College Football Playoff finished the season ranked No. 3 nationally in team defense.

That once-vaunted defense crumbled in 2019 and 2020, leading to the firing of former defensive coordinator Don Brown. Harbaugh replaced him with Baltimore Ravens defensive assistant Mike Macdonald, who installed a brand new 3-4 scheme this past offseason.

So far, the first-time coordinator’s system has rejuvenated the Wolverines’ defense. That much was evident in Michigan’s inspired play during Saturday night’s win.

“Mike did a great job calling the defense,” Harbaugh said.

“From an offensive perspective, Washington ran everything known to man offensively in the first three quarters.

And for the most part, three straight three-and-outs to start the game, that was huge. You talk about getting off to a fast start, that precipitated that.

Four three-and-outs throughout the course of the game. It was really, really strong.”

Despite throwing the kitchen sink at the Wolverines, Washington didn’t reach the red zone until the second half and failed to score a touchdown until the fourth quarter.

The Huskies struggled to block senior edge Aidan Hutchinson, who recorded 2.5 sacks, four tackles — three of which were solo — and a quarterback hurry. With NFL scouts from 13 franchises in attendance, Hutchinson looked the part of a first-round draft pick.

With every Washington drive that fell apart, Hutchinson was at the center of the wreckage. He blew up numerous short run plays in addition to his 2.5 sacks. His strong

play in the trenches helped Michigan dominate the line of scrimmage — something the Wolverines’ own offensive line grew accustomed to as the season approached. “(The Huskies) couldn’t block Aidan,” Harbaugh said.

“In fall camp, we couldn’t block him either.”

Added senior offensive lineman Ryan Hayes: “It’s a really fun back and forth when we’re in practice. It’s really nice having Aidan on that side of the ball because we’re not really going to face anyone better than him this year.”

The defensive dominance stretched further than just Hutchinson, though. After allowing a 75-yard touchdown on Western Michigan’s opening drive a week ago, the Wolverines needed time to settle in. That wasn’t the case in Week 2 — a major step forward on the preparation front.

Fifth-year senior linebacker Josh Ross found himself at the heart of that improvement. His role in the middle of the defense affects everyone around him, allowing him to notice the contrast.

“For today, one of the things I was most proud of was how well we communicated and how much better we communicated from last week to this week,” Ross said. “There were a lot of formations, a lot of trickery. ... We were getting to certain calls that we never went over, but we sort of went out and handled it.”

And at this point in a young season, rapid improvement is the best thing Michigan could’ve possibly seen.

MILES MACKLIN/Daily Michigan fifth-year senior linebacker Josh Ross totaled 11 tackles, four solo, and three quarterback hurries.

Through two games, Michigan’s offense looks settled into an identity BRENDAN ROOSE

Daily Sports Editor

Each week, the No. 25 Michigan football team practices a 9-on-7 drill.

Effectively, it’s football stripped down to its most

AMERICAN DEMOCRACY

KEN KOLLMAN

Frederick G.L. Huetwell Professor Professor of Political Science

Tuesday, September 21, 2021 | 4:00 p.m. | Weiser Hall, 10th Floor

Why You Should and Should Not be Worried About

basic components: the running back takes a handoff up the middle, and the defense tries to stop him. There’s no trickery, stunts or play actions. The drill merely tests if the offense’s blockers can out-duel the defense’s front seven.

LSA LECTURE A public lecture and reception; you may attend in person or virtually. For more info, including the Zoom link, visit events.umich.edu/event/84260 or call 734.615.6667.

It’s old-school stuff, but in the offseason, the Wolverines gave it new meaning.

“In years prior, we would call it 9-on-7, which is what the drill is,” junior offensive lineman Trevor Keegan said. “This year, we changed it to (the) Beat Ohio drill. Now, we’re blasting music, smelling salts, everything. And it’s a pretty physical period, and we love it.”

In the grand scheme of things, renaming a drill will do little to close the canyon-sized gap between Michigan and Ohio State. Culture changes — especially when coming off a 2-4 season — are good, but they won’t be enough to turn the tables after losing the last three matchups to the Buckeyes by a combined score of 149-86.

Still, the renewed intensity reflected in the “Beat Ohio” drill is already apparent in one aspect of the Wolverines’ performance: the offensive line.

Through two games, the starting five has paved the way for a whopping 678 rushing yards while allowing just six tackles for loss and one sack. To put that in perspective, Michigan managed just 786 rushing yards through all six games last season while forfeiting 4.5 tackles for loss and 1.3 sacks per game. It’s still early, but there’s clearly some tangible progress on the offensive line.

In Saturday’s 31-10 drubbing of Washington, Michigan fully embraced the mentality of establishing the run. Fifty-six of the

Wolverines’ 71 offensive plays stayed on the ground. On average, each of those runs went for 6.1 yards. That success came in large part thanks to the physicality up front.

“First off, I want to shout the o-line,” sophomore running back Blake Corum said Saturday. “As you guys saw today, they fired off the ball, they were real physical and they made (senior running back Hassan Haskins’s) and my job real easy.”

Even on the running backs’ highlight-reel plays, linemen could be seen clearing paths through the Huskies’ defense.

For example, on Corum’s 67-yard touchdown run midway through the second quarter, he had a

massive hole to run through thanks to solid down-blocking from Keegan, a strong kick-out block from pulling sixth-year center Andrew Vastardis and a touchdown-sealing hit on the second level from senior tackle Ryan Hayes.

For the most part, Vastardis also anchored the line, seeming to get more push than anybody off the ball. Since being elected captain at the end of fall camp, he looks to have embraced the heavier expectations levied on him this season.

“Vastardis is the leader of our o-line, the leader of our team,” Keegan said. “So he makes all the calls and stuff. We gelled really well in the spring together, and

we’ve just been continuing to carry that on.”

Though later revealed to be just a cramp, an injury to Vastardis late in the game offered a reminder as to how quickly things could fall apart for the Wolverines. Even if everyone remains healthy, caveats are always going to apply in wins against Western Michigan and a Washington team that lost to an FCS opponent. It remains to be seen whether the offensive line will be able to sustain this level of dominance up front against tougher teams.

If the newly minted “Beat Ohio” drill is to be believed, the team is preparing for those challenges.

MILES MACKLIN/Daily Michigan’s offensive identity is channeled through the line, a clear result of the focus spent on it over the summer.

10 — Wednesday, September 15, 2021

Missed scoring opportunities hamper Michigan in 1-0 loss MARK PATRICK Daily Sports Writer

Michigan’s defensive proved capable at shutting down both Western Michigan and Washington.

ALLISON ENGKVIST/Daily

SportsWednesday: We don’t know what this team is yet

InagamebilledtobeMichigan’s first big test of the season, the results are … dubious. Sure, the Wolverines beat Washington by three touchdowns and its defense looked impenetrable for most of the game, when Michigan usually struggles in big matchups.

But also, how good is KENT Washington really, and SCHWARTZ what in tarnation was that offense?

The Huskies don’t seem primed to be a contender in the PAC-12, and maybe the embarrassing loss to FCS Montana wasn’t a fluke.

All told, this game is probably not the test we thought it would be when Washington was ranked 20th at the start of the season, and the “lessons learned” may just be built on a house of cards.

The running game, though, seems built with brick walls. It is a unit that, at least, can lead Michigan toward a season that matches its (more reasonable) preseason expectations.

Doomsayers won’t have to worry

about embarrassing losses to bottom-feeders Maryland, Rutgers or Nebraska if the Wolverines can pound the rock like that.

“It means a lot to me knowing that we have two solid running backs (and) that we can run the ball and do the things we’ve done the last two weeks, I think it’s phenomenal,” sophomore running back Blake Corum said.

“It definitely puts other teams in a situation, cause you don’t really know who to stop.”

This ‘thunder and lightning’ pairing of Corum and senior running back Hassan Haskins offense is the new evolution of Michigan’s offense, closer to the early days of Jim Harbaugh.

The days of Karan Higdon and De’Veon Smith, when running was the first-choice option and the floor seemed to be 8-5, with the ceiling one yard short of the playoffs.

The offenses of Michigan have evolved since then, but the one thing they all have in common is their ceiling: below Ohio State.

And that’s a pattern of behavior that some Michigan fans have said time and time again is not enough.

But that Washington game also gives glimmers of hope on the other side of the ball, the defense.

One of the biggest weaknesses of last season for the Wolverines, the changes seem to have made this defense formidable. But shutting down Western Michigan, a good MAC team — but a MAC team nonetheless — and Washington, which scored seven points against Montana, aren’t necessarily good measuring sticks.

The stats are there for Michigan: It notched the thirdmost rushing yards under Harbaugh’s tenure on Saturday

with 343. On the defensive end, it held Washington to 50 rushing yards.

Conversely, Michigan is averaging 33.5 more rushing attempts than passing attempts through its first two games. The next-closest Big Ten champion in the playoff era is Ezekiel Elliott’s 2014 Ohio State, which averaged 18.7 more rushing plays than passing.

But what made that team even more dangerous was its passing ability. It took big shots and kept defenses honest through explosive passing plays.

MILES MACKLIN/Daily Michigan senior running back Hassan Haskins averaged 5.7 yards per carry with a long of 20 yards.

The Wolverines, meanwhile, have recorded 60% of their passing yards on two plays, both against Western Michigan, and are averaging 130 passing yards a game. They didn’t want (or need) to utilize the passing game to beat the Huskies, but that won’t be true forever.

Against teams as talented as the Buckeyes or Penn State, running every play won’t get you anywhere in an eight-man box. Junior quarterback Cade McNamara will need to be more than just the game manager offensive coordinator Josh Gattis has deemed him to be. To finish better than 8-4, McNamara will have to make game-changing plays.

Can he? We don’t know yet.

The great yardstick that was Washington turned out to be no more useful than the game against Western Michigan.

The next test — a real test — for Michigan will be at Wisconsin, on Oct. 2. Until then, we won’t be able to figure out if this is a mediocre, good or great team.

Managing Sports Editor Kent Schwartz can be reached on Twitter @nottherealkent

Despite its winning record heading into Friday’s matchup against No. 12 New Hampshire, the Michigan men’s soccer team had yet to play a complete game well. The Wolverines’ slow starts have led to missed opportunities and have forced them to play catch-up with the opposing team.

Michigan hoped to change this narrative, but this game was no different, as the team fell, 1-0.

The Wolverines’ offense struggled mightily in the first half. They were unable to convert on passes in the offensive zone, allowing the Wildcats to take the ball up the field and into Michigan’s final third for most of the first half. The Wildcats dominated in the Wolverines’ box, creating numerous scoring chances, but Michigan held them off with timely saves and great stops by freshman goalkeeper Hayden Evans and fifth-year defender Austin Swiech.

In the 38th minute, New Hampshire punished the Wolverines for their inability to retain possession and take shots. Midfielder Bilal Kamal’s goal put New Hampshire up 1-0, and it appeared as if the Wildcats were going to walk away handedly with a win.

At halftime, though, Michigan came out of the tunnel looking like a completely different team.

“I think we absolutely tore them apart in the second half,” Michigan coach Chaka Daley said.

“They were fortunate to get out of here with a win.”

The team’s fire and poise were plain to see. The Wolverines tallied eight shots in the second half, which created many scoring opportunities. But even with the dominant second half, Michigan was unable to equalize.

Twenty-two minutes into the second half, Michigan had the ball in the Wildcats’ zone.

Effective passing led to a shot on target by Swiech that rebounded off of New Hampshire goalkeeper Jassem Koleilat. The rebound led to an even better chance by junior forward Evan Rasmussen, but the rebound opportunity went over the crossbar.

“We had five legit chances in and around the box in the second half,” Daley said. “I’m not discouraged in any way, shape or form: for a group like that (New Hampshire) to come in here with all those players with good experience and for us to take it to them in the second half, I’m encouraged, not discouraged.”

Even with Daley’s words, Michigan has struggled to score offensively throughout the season, scoring only five goals in five games. If the Wolverines want to remain competitive in the Big Ten, they will need to find the back of the net more often.

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Blown fourth set downs Wolverines PAUL NASR

Daily Sports Writer

Victory against North Carolina was in their hands in front of an energetic crowd at Crisler Center. Leading the match 2-1 and building a comfortable 23-18 lead in the fourth set, all the Wolverines needed was two points to hand the Tar Heels their first loss of the season.

But two points were evidently too much for Michigan.

Instead, the Michigan volleyball team (4-2 overall) crumbled under a punishing 7-0 run from North Carolina.

Despite calling multiple timeouts and making difficult digs to extend points, the Wolverines had no answer for outside hitter Mabrey Shaffmaster’s aerial assault.

Early in the set, junior middle blockers Jess Robinson and May Pertofsky combined for an emphatic rejection of a Shaffmaster attack. Their block traveled near the back line of the court, soaring past the North Carolina defense and out of reach.

Senior outside hitter Paige Jones, who was quiet earlier in the match, was starting to heat up. Following a clean set by sophomore setter Scottee Johnson, Jones ran up the sideline and took flight, launching the volleyball into the face of North Carolina outside hitter Parker Austin for a savage kill that tied the game at four.

Two points later, Jones continued her display of force, attacking Austin once again.

This time, Austin managed to get a hand on the ball, but it

GRACE BEAL/Daily Michigan senior outside hitter Paige Jones dominated the start of fourth set.

The freshman carried out four demoralizing kills in the final seven points to secure the set that would propel the Tar Heels to a five-set victory. “(Shaffmaster) started just teeing off,” Michigan coach Mark Rosen said. “... And next thing you know, now all of a sudden the momentum’s spinning.”

Before Shaffmaster’s mastery at the net, however, Michigan was cruising in the would-be-clinching fourth set.

shanked out of bounds and into the stands.

Jones entered into a serious rhythm by the middle of the game. At 12-9, she was commanding the outside with multiple strong attacks that had the Tar Heel defense scrambling. She then ran in for a finishing blow following another great set from Johnson to finish the lengthy point.

The array of kills from Jones had the defense on their heels. Eyeing a clean set, Jones leaped into the air and cocked

her hand back. Expecting yet another strong attack, North Carolina retreated, only for Jones to roll-shot the ball over the net, landing on the floor before a sprawling Tar Heel could dig. The crafty kill put the Wolverines up 16-12, and momentum was squarely with them.

“We have four really good scoring positions,” Rosen said.

“We were playing very well. …

We were playing phenomenal.”

The phenomenal play continued for Michigan as sophomore outside hitter Jess Mruzik, coming off a careerhigh 31 kill performance on Friday, painted the back corner of the court for an ace, forcing North Carolina to call a timeout.

The Wolverine lead continued to grow, but at 23-18, a block by Austin and middle blocker Skyy Howard on an attack by Jones turned the tide, sparking the 7-0 run that ended the game. Following Michigan’s collapse, it was clear the tables of the match had turned.

With the Tar Heels rallying, the crowd grew loud in response, but a miscommunication involving Jones led to a service ace by defensive specialist Karenna Wurl, whose serve landed relatively slowly onto the floor with no defender there to pass, bringing the margin within two.

With the score tied at 23, Robinson’s attack was rejected by outside hitter Kaya Merkler.

Next, it was none other than Shaffmaster who ended the furious comeback with yet another kill.

The momentum North Carolina carried after its late surge was too much for the Wolverines to overcome in the final frame, as they lacked a consistent attack and made a handful of unforced errors in the 15-9 fifth-set loss.

“It’s easy to say, ‘Hey let’s just move on to the next set,’ ” Rosen said. “But that’s a hard hurdle to kind of get over. …

(This was) hopefully a good learning opportunity for us.”

Poor first half spells doom for Michigan in ranked matchup Wolverines was the talent on JACK GLANVILLE display by their underclassmen.

For The Daily Freshman defender Jason Bucknor swept past opposing players with the ball at his feet, Trailing 1-0 in the 66th making it look easy in the process. minute, junior forward Evan After pushing up the field in the Rasmussen slid the ball past 84th minute, he played a cross into the New Hampshire defenders the middle of the box that could to sophomore midfielder Bryce have produced a goal on another Blevins. Blevins took aim from day. inside the 18-yard box and fired Despite pushing forward into a shot into the left-side netting, the attack, Bucknor’s most notable failing to put it on target. moment came in the Wolverines’ Blevins’s scoring opportunity defensive third. With a Wildcat was one of many for the Michigan pressuring him from behind, men’s soccer team (2-2-1) in the Bucknor displayed second half, but some flair, flicking none found the the ball into the back of the net. As air and clearing it such, No. 12 New with an impressive Hampshire (5-0overhead kick.

0) escaped Ann Another Arbor with a 1-0 underclassman victory over the with an impressive Wolverines. performance New was freshman Hampshire’s goalkeeper single goal came Hayden Evans. In off of a corner the 84th minute, kick in the 38th New Hampshire minute. The ball forward Victor took a deflection Menudier got on in Michigan’s box, the end of a long falling at the feet of pass and found Wildcat junior Bilal himself one-on-one Kamal, who then BECCA MAHON/Daily with Evans. Evans swiftly placed it in Michigan junior forward Evan Rasmussen failed to capitalize on stayed composed, the top right corner chances.

Despite the loss, there were managing to deflect Menudier’s of Michigan’s net.

With the Wolverines losing 1-0, many positives for the Wolverines shot to the right of the net, and ultimately finished the game with Blevins’s opportunity sparked a to build off of going forward.

Rasmussen displayed a four saves. momentum change in U-M Soccer Despite some strong Stadium. The fans got louder and knack for finding the ball in this young the offense opened up for the scoring positions throughout performances, Wolverines. A mere two minutes the game, as his three shots Wolverine team ultimately fell after Blevins’s chance, fifth-year led the Wolverines. His best short Friday.

“Everything is not always defender Austin Swiech fired a chance came in the 85th minute shot on goal after the ball landed when he found the ball at his going to go your way. And again, at his feet following a Michigan feet shortly after a Michigan that doesn’t mean you need to corner kick. New Hampshire free kick was played into the concede goals, right, or concede goalkeeper Jassem Koleilat box. Rasmussen fired a rocket momentum,” Daley said. “You’ve saved the shot, but it bounced toward the top left corner of still got to be comfortable in your back to Rasmussen for another the net, but Koleilat managed own skin if things are against you. opportunity. Koleilat was there to to tip it over the crossbar for a Just kind of weather the storm, a little bit, and that comes with a make the save yet again, keeping Michigan corner kick.

Another bright spot for the little bit of maturity.” the lead intact for the Wildcats.

“I think we absolutely tore them apart (in the second half),” Michigan coach Chaka Daley said. “They were fortunate to get out of here. But, the game is about margins. They had a real chance to miss in the first half, a halfchance they scored on, and we had five legit chances in and around the box in the second half.”

The Wolverines finished the game with 10 shots, eight of which came in the second half. New Hampshire finished with 11 shots, five of which came in the second half.

Wednesday, September 15, 2021 — 11

‘M’ utilizes adjustments to come away from road trip with win, draw CONNOR EAREGOOD

Daily Sports Writer

With the game in its infancy, the Michigan women’s soccer team made a rare mistake: It turned the ball over in its defensive third. Cincinnati midfielder Lauren Bastian moved the ball to forward Vanessa DiNardo, who took the first shot of the game and scored.

The 16th-ranked Wolverines (6-1-1 overall) then found their backs against the wall, a position that felt unfamiliar; usually, they take the ball early and relentlessly attack the opposition.

Cincinnati neutralized that attack all through the first half, and Michigan looked like it would return home from its weekend road trip without a win.

Heading into the locker room at halftime, the Wolverines needed a change.

“We were kind of the underdogs in that moment, and we decided we’ve got 45 minutes to change that,” senior midfielder Raleigh Loughman said. “It’s a Sunday game, so you’ve always gotta fight it out. We went into that with a fighting mindset.”

That mindset led to a pair of second-half goals and guided Michigan’s approach to its weekend road games. On Friday, after tying Louisville (4-1-1) at a goal apiece in a game where they dominated possession, the Wolverines utilized their deep roster to battle for a 2-1 win against Cincinnati (4-3-1).

Michigan’s offense has found a consistent pattern this season.

It generates dozens of shots every game, but struggles to turn them into goals. The Wolverines addressed those challenges this weekend.

Against the Cardinals, Michigan started the game in its usual position: the driver’s seat. Fifth-year senior midfielder Nicki Hernandez scored the Wolverines’ goal in the 19th minute after Loughman and junior midfielder Dani Wolfe worked the ball past the defense.

But Michigan faced stiff

competition following the goal.

Midfielder Nina Nicosia slipped Louisville’s first shot of the game past fifth-year goalkeeper Hillary Beall in the 21st minute. The Wolverines dominated possession and made 24 shots, throwing all they had on net. But the finish that has eluded them all season proved absent once again.

Substitutions came early and often in both games. A calling card of Michigan’s team, those decisions kept the Wolverines’ energy high against both opponents.

Michigan coach Jennifer Klein utilized 19 outfield players against the Cardinals and 18 against the Bearcats.

“You’ve gotta trust your players,” Klein said. “And you have to trust that the work that they’re doing every week in practice is preparing them for those moments.”

In adjusting from its first game of the weekend, Michigan focused on maximizing the danger of its chances against Cincinnati. This was a marked change from Friday’s match in which the Wolverines peppered the goalkeeper with lowerquality threats.

“Sometimes we can have a lot of shots, but they weren’t necessarily great opportunities,” Loughman said. “So I think we actually did

better (against Cincinnati) with creating good opportunities.”

Cincinnati scored its early goal, but the Wolverines refused to roll over. As the midfield worked the ball toward the Bearcats’ goal, Loughman played deeper in the offensive zone. Senior midfielder Meredith Haakenson found a break in the Cincinnati defense, connecting with Loughman for a goal. Michigan had drawn even in the 62nd minute.

Loughman wasn’t done scoring though. Her deep pressure forced a yellow card from Cincinnati midfielder Taylor Nuncio that resulted in a penalty kick.

Loughman ripped it deep into the net in the 64th minute, giving her team the lead. After a back-andforth battle the rest of the game, Beall put the finishing touches on the Wolverines’ victory when she snagged a penalty kick in the 87th minute.

Michigan’s changes had paid off.

The result in Louisville wasn’t what Michigan wanted, but the team switched its approach after a slow start in Cincinnati.

Questions about finishing opportunities came closer to answers than they’ve been all season, which bodes well as the Wolverines enter a tough Big Ten campaign.

JEREMY WEINE/Daily Michigan senior midfielder Raleigh Loughman built chances through the midfield.

No trouble for new No. 1 as Wolverines easily blow out Ball State DAVID WOELKERS

For The Daily

Confirming its newly minted No. 1 national ranking, the Michigan field hockey team made a statement in a 12-0 rout of Ball State in its home opener on Friday. The Cardinals were prevented from even attempting to make a dent in the score, finishing with zero shots and zero corners in the game.

In contrast, the Wolverines posted 39 total shots, 33 of which were on goal. Notably, none of Michigan’s goals came off a corner shot, despite the Wolverines receiving 14 opportunities to do so. In the three games since their 3-2 dogfight over former No. 1 North Carolina, Michigan has scored 22 unanswered goals and allowed only six shots.

While seven Michigan players joined in on Friday’s scoring, senior midfielder Sofia Southam provided the plurality of the goals, scoring five and breaking the Michigan record for goals in a single game, previously set at four by Rachael Mack in 2013.

“It feels great, but it’s a team sport, there’s no one single person,” Southam said. “We’ve always had this great team connection.”

Asked about the dominant start to the season, Southam emphasized the team’s mentality.

“We’re not focusing on the outcome, we’re focusing on doing the right thing every practice, every play,” Southam said. “We’re keeping it day-byday, game-by-game.”

For the Wolverines, any fears of fatigue from their springtime national runner-up campaign appear to be unfounded. With this year’s finals being hosted in Ann Arbor in the 20th anniversary year of Michigan’s lone national title win, Michigan coach Marcia Pankratz — who has led the team to all five of its Final Four appearances — welcomed her team’s earlyseason play as they look toward a formidable Big Ten conference season and beyond.

“We’re a very deep and versatile team, so we can run lines almost like an ice hockey game,” Pankratz said. “(The team is) going to play as hard as they can until they get tired

and switch out. In practice, the younger players are getting reps at a high tempo against some of the country’s best players.

They’re getting better and better and better.”

In addition to Southam’s five goals, senior forward Tina D’Anjolell also scored two goals in two shots. Freshman midfielder Abby Tamer led the team with two assists, adding a goal for three points in total. Redshirt senior midback Emma Tamer and redshirt senior back Halle O’Neill finished second and third on the team in shots with six and five, respectively, but both players were unable to find the back of the net. Freshman back Emmy Tran and sophomore forward Katelyn Clarke scored their first career goals in the third and fourth quarters, respectively.

With this being Michigan’s first home game with fans since the 2019 season, emotions were high, both in the stands and on the field. Following the game, Pankratz summed up her elation: “What a great night to play field hockey in Ann Arbor, right?”

ALLISON ENGKVIST/Daily Michigan freshman fullback Emmy Tran scored her first goal in the rout of Ball State.

12 — Wednesday, September 15, 2021

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1 — Wednesday, September 15, 2021 // The Statement

BY LANE KIZZIAH, STATEMENT CORRESPONDENT

Reflections on a last first day Public Policy senior Maddi Walsh poked her head into the classroom while the rest of us milled awkwardly around the first floor of Weill Hall. We all stood quietly — awkwardly — not remembering the proper pre-class etiquette. At what point is it acceptable to walk into the room? How does one engage in small talk? Should I leave and come back just to avoid the sheer awkwardness? The things that should’ve been second nature as I entered my 16th year of school were now completely foreign after almost two years of online learning.

Growing up, I’d always gotten the pre-school butterflies. I’d make my mom take me back-toschool shopping outrageously early so I could labor over the choices of which lunchbox would appropriately accent my third-grade experience and which brands of colored pens would improve my abysmal handwriting. As I’ve gotten older, the novelty of the first day has naturally worn off, but this year it all came flooding back.

I’d been looking forward to the start of school for weeks with the fervor of an anxious kindergartener. When the big day arrived, my roommates and I all tried on multiple outfits, and I’d spent an hour making sure all my books were in order, my water bottle filled, my iced coffee in just the right travel cup.

But when our professor, Megan TompkinsStange, told Walsh we could come into the classroom, I felt an unexpected wave of anxiety.

I was overwhelmed by the physical presence of the class, the rows of desks, the faces I recognized and those I didn’t, the professor at the front of the room.

And even beyond the social factors, there are new COVID-related taboos to think about.

Is it rude to take a seat directly next to someone else? Should I leave room for them? Can I lower my mask and sip my water? All of these factors culminated in one all-important question: Where do I sit down?

After taking a quick scan of the masked faces around me, I chose a seat in the back. A few rows ahead of me, Walsh was having a similar experience.

“Something I didn’t realize until I got back here was that I haven’t introduced myself to someone in just so long in person,” she said. “That little small talk that you do with the people next to you that we didn’t get to do over Zoom, I totally forgot about all. It was so awkward.”

After getting to know someone over Zoom —

at least as well as you can get to know someone through breakout-room chit-chat — it’s hard to gauge that first in-person interaction. I was sitting next to someone who I’ve sat on a Zoom with probably 100 times; I know her political opinions and what she thought of our professors, but I didn’t know her height or whether to introduce myself again. As I sat down, I tried to preoccupy myself with any task I could think of. I organized my pencils, took out all my books and put them back in my bag. I flipped through my planner, looking through a list of imaginary tasks to complete. A couple of times, I thought about saying hi, but in the end, I opted to sit in silence and wait for class to start.

Even professors felt the strange circumstances and first-day jitters. University of Michigan Education professor Matt Diemer is used to reading non-verbal cues from his students to assess their comprehension and engagement, something made much more difficult when everyone is wearing masks.

“I get 25% of the information from people’s faces I used to because I can’t see so much of people’s faces,” he said. “This isn’t to complain about masking — I think it’s important — but it’s just something I had not anticipated about what it would be like to be in the classroom again.”

Still, Diemer is excited to be back in person and looking forward to getting back to the aspects of teaching he missed even if it isn’t entirely normal.

As he aptly put it, returning to the classroom is a double-edged sword.

“If you’re a freshman at Michigan or you’re a first-year graduate student, you’re excited about going, and it’s been a lifelong goal for you to go there maybe, but it’s still a new challenge, a new stressful situation that always kind of introduces normative stresses,” Diemer said. “I think just transition periods are difficult because they’re new and novel and may take us out of our habits and routine, so they introduce some stress.

They’re also great things but it’s stress at the same time.”

Business sophomore Claire Strimling is essentially living the freshman transition a year late. Even though she was in Ann Arbor for all of last year, she only had one hybrid class.

“It was really, really amazing being in person and just being with other people,” she said. “I don’t even think I realize how many people went to Michigan.”

Though she prefers in-person learning, Strimling was worried that her classes this semester would be harder than the ones she took online. She went to a small high school in Las Vegas and is still learning to navigate the aspects of a big school — large class sizes and less face-to-face time with teachers — that most upperclassmen had the opportunity to adjust to as soon as we got on campus.

Even as a senior, I resonate with that idea of the freshman transition, in the best possible way. Underlying the awkwardness I felt was an overwhelming feeling of excitement. Last year, I would take most of my classes from my bed, occasionally turning off my camera to go make a sandwich or refill my coffee. I felt disconnected not just from my classes or classmates, but from the very idea of Michigan. This year, everything feels like a significant first: the first walk to class, the first assignment, the first time sitting in the library.

On my second day, I got lost in Mason Hall and ended up on the wrong floor. I took a quick lap in an effort to not look so blatantly lost and then snuck down the back stairs to my classroom.

There was something in that moment that made me fall in love with Michigan all over again. “(The start of in-person classes) brought kind of a sense of fulfillment back to my day,” Business senior Matt Kocsis said. “I guess just once again being able to go out on campus, seeing everybody also on the pilgrimage to class. Things felt certainly back to normal, and it was the energy and the enthusiasm that I’ve been so used to for so long.”

That energy has been palpable all over campus.

“It was really difficult for students and professors to truly have engaging conversations and not really being able to read body language and stuff (over Zoom),” LSA junior Lily Anderson added. “So I’ve loved being back in person with them and kind of having their energy to bounce off of and seeing how excited they are to be back in person as well has been really motivating.”

Even with this faux sense of normalcy, this is by no means a normal semester. After the first two weeks of classes, there have been 322 COVID-19 cases reported on campus. By the second day of classes, LSA junior Stanley Wang had already gotten two email notifications that someone in his class had tested positive. COVID-19 was a major concern for him coming into the school

year because many of his friends are international students who didn’t have access to the vaccine at home.

“I knew that (the email notifications) would happen, but I guess I didn’t know it would be that quick,” he said.

Kocsis is less concerned about the risk of infection. He feels comfortable knowing that such a high percentage of students are vaccinated and he has no underlying health concerns. Naturally, there’s a large range of feelings within the student body. Most of us fall somewhere in the middle, wanting to experience this year to the fullest but still holding a nagging sense of doubt in the back of our minds.

Many professors, Diemer included, have younger children at home who are not yet vaccine eligible. One of Diemer’s concerns coming into the semester was that students would be resistant to wearing masks, a fear that proved unfounded.

Now with the first day behind us, Diemer is focused on being flexible.

“The challenges for professors are just trying to know what to expect, to try to be adaptive and flexible and customizable,” he said. “But at the same time, having a plan and a structure, so trying to thread some line between not being so rigid and totally unprepared if a student has to miss class because of a COVID exposure ... There’s a lot of invisible labor that professors are doing to try to be responsive and customizable, and this is labor I want to do. I think it’s important for students’ well-being and educational success, but being back in person, this term isn’t like every other term.”

It wasn’t a normal first day of school, and it won’t be a normal semester that follows. I’ve already gotten two notifications that someone in my classes has tested positive. The mixture of fear and optimism and excitement I have for the coming months is always changing. As Diemer said, we have to be adaptable.

But when my first class was over, I walked out alone, still unsure of how to navigate classroom chit-chat. On my walk home, I thought about my last first day of school and all the first days that came before it. Who knows what will happen in the next few months or whether we’ll be able to keep it up until the end of the semester. In that moment, I was just grateful that there were people on the street, backpack straps in hand, classes to go to.

On knowing yourself

Wednesday, September 15, 2021 // The Statement — 2

BY TAYLOR SCHOTT, STATEMENT COLUMNIST

Recently, I had a falling out with someone who told me in parting that they could, at the very least, always count on me to look out for myself. Not look after. Not take care of. Look out. As in, that ball is about to hit your head. Look out. Engage your defenses.

While I didn’t fight this, I can’t forget it, because weeks after the conversation I still find myself struggling to work through all the bitter complexities of the statement. Putting my needs first — is that not a base element of personhood?

In the moment, I thought I was acting on what I knew about myself, what I knew about what I wanted. The swell of regret crept in, first slowly and then all at once. So pervasive was the doubt then, the feeling that I knew nothing about what was good for me. What happens when we think we know ourselves?

I don’t entirely know what is with the always randomly felt and forever forceful urge to be on my own, to ensure the fewest tethers — this is what I was acting on, what the plaintiff was referring to. Even when any sort of relationship seems to be going well, even if I’m with someone who I think is good for me, the urge still comes. Could my actions be driven by a questioning of what I feel I deserve? Moving through life acting on these defenses has always felt like acting on the opposite of principle, a shield against what may or may not be a true self, an unlovable self.

There’s an important difference in connotation between taking care of and looking out for oneself, it seems; while the former is often touted as a necessary, emotionally conscious act of fulfilling one’s own needs, the latter is rife with defense and paranoia — looking out as if always on guard, watching, waiting.

Solitude feels safe, but also, crucially, not always what I imagine it to be. Solitude is not always a night to yourself in a closed bedroom exhausting the playlists or reading the books or watching the movies, the ones you have already seen. Sometimes, it’s lying restless in the dark and wishing you could go back and change it all. Sometimes solitude is just loneliness disguised in the thick manifest of expectation.

Last winter — and it always happens in winter — I experienced a bout of loneliness I had imposed on myself, like purgatory I felt I deserved. I kept wishing to be with someone, but then as soon as I was, reality was never what I imagined it to be: They sat in a chair at my desk instead of the corner of my bed, kissed me coming right instead of left and without the proverbial “spark” that Seventeen magazine had always promised would accompany kissing. It was imperfect and overwhelming and when the night ended, I would think back through every moment, what I had said, what I didn’t say. What I did do, what I didn’t.

I had hardly tried to enjoy it.

I feel as though I’m full of sickly contradictions, seeking and wanting this solitude while also wishing it didn’t have to be the case — wanting to be around nobody and everybody at the same

time. Feeling ambivalence and even apathy about some things one minute, and then total fervor the next. Because as much as I hate to admit it, I don’t know myself nearly as well as I think I do.

It’s 2013 and a tired waiter is taking my family’s order at dinner. Asks if we would like drinks. I shake my head, declining, and my mother laughs, ordering something for me anyway, claiming, “Taylor, sometimes I know you better than you know yourself.”

She would go on to explain, “Once our drinks arrive and you don’t have one with your meal, you’ll want mine.” This presumption always bothered me, and not only because she was right, but because she had confidently surmised that knowing one pattern of behavior indicated that she knew my whole self. She wasn’t really saying that,

but that’s how I saw the explanation then, and still see it now. She could have said that she, as both my mother and someone who was not me, saw patterns that I could not, or would not, admit to. But I was 13 and my mother prefers maxims.

A cautious desire to understand what drives our perceptions of ourselves has dogged me ever since. We are presupposed to believe that if we know ourselves, we are well off — we have placed ourselves in a position to succeed. Once we are familiarized with our own styles of learning, behaving and feeling, it then follows that we can feel at peace with what we have experienced and felt and what we will experience and feel. These are possibilities, the books and movies and songs have said, where it is both possible and beneficial to know ourselves. But let’s not pretend that there aren’t limits, or that we haven’t already bought into its warped promise.

What have I already bought into? Perhaps it’s not just solitude that I seek, but an escape from being my own spectator. Maybe all these years of

ally, whenever you feel estranged from others, whenever you confront the awful truth that you can never know, really know another person, and no one can really know you.” I find the solipsism problem to be a useful, even if sad, way of defining the loneliness in being yourself. It is written on the forecourt of the Temple of Apollo in Delphi, “Γνῶθι σεαυτόν.” Know thyself. It was then Shakespeare who wrote in his play “Hamlet,” “To thine own self be true.” These famed men realized the virtues in learning about yourself, in knowing your tendencies: Break bad patterns, feel more comfortable in various situations, plan and predict with accuracy. But these benefits, while admirable, don’t constitute knowing yourself.

Maybe they do, in the limited sense. But not fully.

In E.M. Cioran’s “The Trouble With Being Born,” a collection of short, nihilistic philosophical musings, he wrote, “Once we appeal to our most intimate selves, once we begin to labor and to produce, we lay claim to gifts, we become unconscious of our own gaps. No one is in a position to admit that what comes out of his own depths might be worthless. ‘Self-knowledge?’ A contradiction in terms.”

It is incredibly difficult, if even possible, to see ourselves objectively. I’ll always have motives, and I can’t pretend to ignore them, or pretend they’re not pressing. The more I think about it, the more that I feel I can conclude that this delusion of self-knowledge is just human element, a completely natural response to the complex layers of our existence. I then wonder: Is the search for reason — the existence of philosophy — just a symptom of living?

There are, admittedly, parts of us that are easy to know — why we are uncomfortable in the face of affection, why we prefer outgoing people as friends, why we aspire to be certain things — those are the easy things, things which give us the impression that we do or could know ourselves.

Design by Dory Tung As Ali Smith would say in her best book, Philosophy and its concerns about the nature of “Autumn,” “That’s the thing about things.”

Know this: There are hundreds of thousands the self have always interested me — its competing strains of thought, each on a determined search of different versions of yourself that exist in the for answer and reason, while also making it clear minds of others, people you have loved, hated, that any definitive conclusions about human wanted or met for only a minute. People that you lock eyes with on the bus or with whom you share nature and our world cannot truly exist.

A most distrustful strain of philosophy, which notes in class, people that could forget you when has both intrigued and terrified me ever since I’ve out of the periphery, or who could remember you come across it, is solipsism, first recorded by the until they die. Versions that if ever presented to Greek presocratic Gorgias. Solipsism is the theory you, may be unrecognizable.

There are hardly any definitive conclusions that if the outside world and other’s minds cannot be known, the self is all that is sure to exist. Others, here — this is exactly what I’m trying to get at. You such as Anita Avramides of Stanford University, can know yourself, but never completely, or properly, and at long last, I think that’s just fine. It’s still define it as, “the problem of other minds.”

John Horgan, a journalist best known for his a worthwhile pursuit. There’s the point: pursuit.

1996 book “The End of Science,” elaborated on Because no matter how many details of my early this idea in Scientific American, arguing, “As life I untangle in therapy sessions, no matter how crazy as this proposition seems, it rests on a brute much I try to intellectualize my emotions in my fact: each of us is sealed in an impermeable prison journals, there remain those slippery, ineluctable, unattractive truths. Ones that I will never fully cell of subjective awareness.”

Horgan continues, “Even if you reject solipsism know or understand. I don’t mind them now as as an intellectual position, you sense it, emotion- much as I used to. journaling have convinced me that if I’m able to articulate precisely how I feel, down to the tight clamp of an impulse, I can predict how any given situation might impact me. So maybe I’ve deluded myself.

Am I just a combination of predisposition, expected presentation of personality and actual desires, of which I have not even the slightest clue how much each factor is divided? And is that fine?

I take a Myers-Briggs test. I take an Enneagram test. Their result pages show me bitesized pieces of information about who I am and why, my strengths and weaknesses, and as nice and neat as this information presents itself, I’m hesitant. It’s come too easily, I feel. Only 20 or 30 thoughtful yet still general questions, and suddenly I’m known?

3 — Wednesday, September 15, 2021 // The Statement

Keep swimming I was on the phone with my dad for seven minutes. I sat down on the worn, green loveseat, greatly appreciated over the summer. I was not expecting to talk with him that evening, but when he texted asking if he could call, I promptly dialed him back, remembering the rarity of being awake and on our phones at the same time. Two months earlier, I flew up to Alaska’s Kenai Peninsula, where I was perpetually busy as a summer camp counselor, and perpetually four hours behind my life back in Michigan.

My dad got right to the point: He had cancer. My mind searched for memories that could ground this situation into something I’ve experienced before, and as it descended further into the past, the only thing it could grab onto was Hollywood reenacting a similar scene.

There is a certain drama that is portrayed in American films and television surrounding cancer; a certain weight is given to it, more so than other medical conditions. Saying the word out loud spits spikes into the conversation despite the gentle curves of its letters on the page. My reaction to the phrase when it painfully brushed its way out of my father’s lips, however, felt underwhelming in comparison to what one might anticipate.

Perhaps I was surprised at how easily cancer infiltrated my life, my brain numbing to avoid this unwanted acquaintance. Or maybe I ignored it, pretending it never existed.

Seven minutes after the call began, I ended it, and minutes after that, I was in a Jeep rolling through the Alaskan backcountry. While my friends moved with the music and the dirt road beneath them, I was busy wrapped in internal guilt from the recent sequence of events.

Seven minutes? My dad just told me he had cancer, and I only gave him seven minutes of my time to talk? I felt selfish, rightfully so, and immediately brainstormed ways to make up for my subpar consolation. I would text him again tomorrow to see if he wanted to talk. I would be extra helpful and caring when I saw him and the rest of my family in two days. I would be a better son and become a model of good relations with my father. I lingered

on my choices and regret and didn’t move on until I was temporarily satisfied with my plan of action.

We eventually parked the Jeep on the side of the trail, embarking on a walk through the woods.

The golden light beamed through the trees, the lengthening shadows indicated the day was winding down. Several abandoned cars were rusting in the ground cover, immortalized in their image of vintage decay. The path stopped at a fast-flowing creek and upon arrival, we saw what we came for. Running through the dark, clear liquid were bright pink fish — salmon swimming upstream.

Their color indicated that they were “zombie salmon,” a group on their lives’ final journey back upstream to lay eggs and plant the seeds of their next generation.

From my coworkers, I learned that these fish of the living dead instinctually returnto the places that they were born, and they will swim for eternity to accomplish their life’s grand finale. Their scales turn pink as fat reserves are slowly depleted throughout their body, and the pigments that once colored their insides move to the outer layers of skin. The fish deteriorate physically and mentally, sacrificing their last days on Earth to the next generation.

Our group of coworkers-turned-friends waded into the fast-moving waters, watching the bright pink rockets whizz past our ankles. All of us under the age of thirty, in what is supposedly the prime of our existence, watched the fish go through the grueling, final stages of theirs. It was easy for us young Americans to question the salmon’s thought process: Why would one save the hardest journey of a lifetime for last? Backed up by images of midwest retirees migrating to Florida beaches, the end of our lives is a time when we should relax, take a final pause and settle down, taking in every last moment before they are gone.

A problem, however, with this school of thought is that many of us cannot choose when or what happens in our final days of existence.

As nature’s instinct calls on salmon to return to their geographic origins, depleting and destroying them in the process, our bodies turn against

Design by Maggie Wiebe

BY OSCAR NOLLETTE-PATULSKI, STATEMENT COLUMNIST

us humans as well. No one, fish or person, chooses when or how these conditions will afflict us, and when or how they might end. The end of our lives, or the end of anything, is simply adapting to the constraints we are given.

Given that these were the last hours of daylight on our final night together in Alaska, we decided to spend it standing in the Jeep, dodging the branches of overgrown brush, bright eyes and smiles reflecting glimmers of light from one to another. A once in a lifetime experience, one might say. In 24 hours, we would head our separate ways, no longer united by the shared goal of caring for youth at a summer camp, but still tied together through the experience. Soon, we would all go home and pick up our former lives where they left off. I wondered if anything had shifted while I was gone, and if my family had changed over the few months they were without me in Michigan.

“Taking inspiration from the Alaskan salmon, we just kept moving; swimming upstream to whatever life had in store for us.”

The social dynamic that I stepped off the plane to was largely the same as before I left.

My mom and brother met me at the airport with hugs and questions, and there was nothing strange about the first lunch back in Michigan.

But as the hours progressed during that first day back, I began to feel new undercurrents in my parents’ dialogue. A sense of urgency dusted the top of their words. Stress and tension rippled from an invisible, yet still perceptible, elephant in the room. I worried what my next

weeks at home would bring, still having almost a month until I moved away again for school.

I worried for my parents and brother having to breathe heavy uncertainty for the following months, not knowing exactly what the next day would bring or the potential pains the future might hold. The cascade of doctor visits, medication and consolation created a landscape that felt foreign and strange.

But as new medical appointments began to write themselves on the family calendar, the air became lighter, and a newer sort of normal set in.

My parents rolled with whatever news the doctors had for my dad, and the nerves of having a family member diagnosed with cancer began to wear themselves off, relatively. Driving my dad to check-ups became part of a routine, rather than an unfamiliar journey. Receiving meals from friends was no longer a surprise, and Tupperware dinners were enjoyed without question. Taking inspiration from the Alaskan salmon, we just kept moving; swimming upstream to whatever life had in store for us.

Perhaps there is something naive about taking things as they come with little preparation.

My call with my father represented a potential pitfall of this approach – talking with him longer instead of feeling rushed to the next activity may have eased my guilt. However, when navigating through the great unknown, especially in a world with an increasingly uncertain future, it might make more sense to only worry about what one sees and to keep moving forward to view the rest.

There are only so many ways to avoid the inevitable anxiety that comes with waiting.

With the new semester just beginning, coupled with pandemic complications and being away from home, I know there will be moments when the future frightens and the present is not such a gift. In those times, I will wade into an Alaskan creek and watch the salmon, bright pink with ambition, wiggling their way through trials and tribulations, and admire them for their tenacity on their long journey home. Maybe this time, I’ll dive in and keep swimming with them.

Wednesday, September 15, 2021 // The Statement — 4

Lingering in between

BY MARY ROLFES, STATEMENT CORRESPONDENT

S

aturday, Sept. 4 marked a monumental moment in Ann Arbor. For the first time in nearly two years, Michigan Stadium welcomed in students at full capacity for the first game of the Wolverines’ 2021 season.

And though this wasn’t a homecoming game, the event centered largely on the idea of coming — or, more accurately, returning — home. A tumultuous virtual year left students scattered across the world in their childhood bedrooms. Tens of thousands of them reuniting in one cherished location at the same time was cause for celebration, even if dampened by lingering COVID-19 concerns.

Returning as a recent graduate, however, added another layer of hesitation for me. It was, of course, incredible to be back in the Big House. It was like returning to my family home after my first semester of college and finding my bedroom intact. After feeling alienated from everything for a year, it reminded me how secure and certain I had felt in my place at the University of Michigan.

But, like returning to a childhood bedroom, the experience was bittersweet. Everything may look the same, but some part of you knows this is not truly your home anymore, at least not in the same way it was before. It will naturally be taken over by others and used for something new.

Given the circumstances of the past year, however, the return was not merely bittersweet, but in some ways painful.

Nostalgia for my college experience prior to the pandemic was partially replaced by heartbreak for the experiences I had lost to the pandemic. Game day in Ann Arbor was a reminder of everything that never was due to the pandemic; acquaintances that never became friends and memories that were never made.

Wrapped up in all of those conflicting feelings, game day above all reaffirmed to me that there is something about being in Ann Arbor — about being a U-M student — that can’t be replicated anywhere else. Being back at the Big House was the first time in a long time that I’d felt like a part of something bigger than myself. And it wasn’t just being in a crowd of 109,000 people. It was blending into a sea of maize and blue and chanting the same chants I had two years ago as if nothing had changed. It was almost a blessing of anonymity; in the crowd, I couldn’t be

singled out as a recent graduate or a jobseeker or a young adult in the transition from college to the real world. I could just be a Michigan Wolverine for a moment. And in that moment, I wanted to just be a Michigan Wolverine forever.

I’m certain I’m not alone in this feeling.

Between 2008 and 2018, more than 96% of freshmen completed their first year successfully and returned to the University the following year. This makes Michigan tied for the 11th highest first-year retention rate nationally, which is well above the average of 91.3% for all public schools in the Association of American Universities. Similarly, the University’s yield — the number of students enrolling compared to the number admitted — increased over 5% between 2014 and 2019.

Clearly, there’s something about Michigan that motivates people to come here and stay here, more so than many other schools.

H

owever, the desire to make the Michigan experience last forever conflicts with the constant pressure to get it done as quickly as possible.

Eighty percent of the University’s 2012 first-year cohort graduated within four years, almost 20% greater than the average four-year graduation rate of AAU public universities. This is often touted as a good thing, and in many ways, it is. College is expensive and getting it done faster can save you a significant amount of money. And some students may desire an efficient college experience for social or personal reasons.

But financial and social pressures to finish as quickly as possible and get to the next step can detract from the experience of the four — or five or six — years spent on campus. It seems antithetical to how hard many of us worked and how excited many of us were to get here only to treat it as a stepping stone to what’s meant to come next.

Perhaps this is becoming more noticeable due to the prominence of hustle culture among Gen Z at large; the desire to not only climb the career ladder but to exploit every possible ounce of our productive capability begins with our first steps on campus. But I think this culture goes back far beyond Gen Z. It’s somewhat unique to Michigan, an internalization of “the Michigan Difference” and “Leaders and the Best” and every other expectation foisted upon us by

our attendance of this prestigious university — prestige we are frequently reminded of.

One especially oppressive part of this culture is the expectation that you should have everything figured out, a culture perpetuated by everyone around you seemingly having everything figured out. As early as August, LinkedIn connections are “thrilled to share” their internship plans for next summer or, even more daunting to those of us who feel behind, their return offers upon graduation. As a junior transfer, the gravity and immediacy of finding a junior year internship were impressed upon me before I even attended a class at Michigan.

As difficult as these pressures can be, they do seem to be at least a common malaise, and in light of the pandemic, some students at Michigan are questioning the overemphasis on the junior year internship altogether. As much as it seems everyone else seems to have the future figured out, there are also reassurances that most people don’t and that everything will work out eventually.

But getting to the end of my degree and feeling like everything expected of me hasn’t materialized can be a very lonely experience.

Upon commencement, I lost the camaraderie of collective struggle. I lost access to the social groups that carried me through college. In the days following graduation, I was removed from several group chats and listservs that had brought me together with others before the pandemic and kept me sane during it. Though I had been anticipating this separation, it still felt sudden. A few months later, as others celebrated a triumphant return to campus on the first day of classes, I spent that day in the same way I had spent the past year: working alone in my room. As much as I was thrilled for others to get back to campus, every joyful Instagram post and Snapchat story I saw made me long for a chance to return, to be invited back to the party.

G

raduation was also the moment that “real world” expectations came on in full force. I can no longer just say “I’m a student” when asked what I do. I had felt the pressure of knowing my future before graduation, but it became so much more visceral after losing the buffer of being in college. Whether it’s a doctor’s appointment or dinner with relatives, the question of

“what’s next?” is asked less out of curiosity and more out of urgency. I’m no longer afforded understanding for my uncertainty; I’m presumed lost and directionless.

Perhaps this is tied to the pressure to always think way ahead and to know exactly what’s coming next. After years of this culture, being uncertain after graduation and not quite sure of the next step is indicative of personal shortcomings and maybe even unworthiness of the Michigan pedigree.

The most interesting part of this internalized guilt is that I don’t believe my present state is the result of failure, but actually of choice. Truthfully: I need a minute. Maybe I’m just not ready to move on. I need a minute to linger in the space that was once mine before it becomes something else, just as my room at home was quickly converted into storage space.

I need something between a victory lap and goodbye tour, or just a chance to finish writing this chapter in a way I’m at least somewhat satisfied with rather than having the page forcefully turned over. As much as I feel strange and even a bit unwelcome sticking around, I do believe there is value in lingering.

According to the University of Washington, it takes the average college graduate three to six months to find a job after graduation. As much as Michigan has constantly reinforced the importance of being different, of leading and being the best, I’m trying to be okay with being “average” in some measures, including this one.

As difficult as it can be following several years of an incessantly forward-looking culture, we need to allow ourselves and others space to linger and feel uncertain after graduation. Despite how the social environment at Michigan makes us feel, it’s normal to need time and to not have everything figured out even after you’ve received your diploma. This is especially true for the class of 2021: as much as you may feel urged to move on as if things were normal, what happened to our college experience frankly sucks. It’s more than okay if you need some extra time to wrap things up.

I have some ideas for what the next phase is, but for the moment, I’m not finished here.

I’m going to linger in between Michigan and whatever’s next for right now. And besides, there’s always grad school.