UMich mandatory reporting policies stir anxiety among faculty, staff
“It’s not in our interest collectively as an institution to have things that some students find offensive piped directly off to Washington, D.C..”
GLENN HEDIN
Staff Reporter
On the reporting page of the University of Michigan’s Equity, Civil Rights and Title IX Office, students and faculty looking to submit a report are met with a disclaimer that ECRT reports are private, but not confidential. The website states that information in reports may need to be shared with some University officials. What the disclaimer does not say is that certain reports submitted to ECRT will eventually be submitted to President Donald Trump’s administration.
In a resolution agreement signed June 14, 2024, the University agreed to share all ECRT complaints alleging discrimination on the basis of shared ancestry with the federal government’s Office for Civil Rights. By June 15, 2025 and June 15, 2026, the University is required to provide OCR with their response to all ancestry-based complaints they have received in the preceding academic year.
Later, on Sept. 2, 2025, the University announced an update to its Standard Practice Guide that made all U-M employees mandatory reporters, requiring all employees to report alleged discrimination, harassment, retaliation or sexual misconduct learned in the scope of their employment to the ECRT office within 48 hours.
In the wake of a series of investigations launched by the Department of Education, the University released updated procedures regarding discrimination, harassment and retaliation, defining discrimination as conduct both subjectively and objectively offensive. The DOE’s March 2025 investigation looked into the University’s responses to antisemitic harassment and discrimination violations while a June 2024 investigation resolved with a commitment by the University to reviewing its Title IV policies.
Derek Peterson, chair of the Senate Advisory Committee on University Affairs, told The Michigan Daily he believes this recent revision of mandatory reporting policies was a consequence of the resolution agreement.
“Everything was centralized, in terms of investigation, in the hands of the ECRT,” Peterson said. “As part of that agreement, the University expanded what it is that we, as individual employees at the University, are obliged to report on. We’re supposed to report on anything that a third party might find offensive — a third party in this case being a member of a protected group of one kind or another.”
In an interview with The Daily, Rackham student Kaitlin Karmen, chair of the Solidarity and Political Action Committee of the Graduate Employees’ Organization, claimed the agreement was spurred by allegations that the University was
not taking sufficient action to crack down on antisemitism on campus.
“The agreement was based on a complaint lodged by different groups of people against the University of Michigan for purportedly not taking reports of antisemitism seriously,” Karmen said. “And largely those reports of antisemitism were (from) people that disagree with pro-Palestine activism.”
Karmen said she does not believe the University and the federal government distinguish between pro-Palestinian activism and antisemitism, raising concerns that that the policy would target all proPalestinian speech.
“We know that anti-Zionism is not antisemitism, but of course that is not represented by what the federal government believes, and certainly not what the folks that lodged this complaint against the University of Michigan believe,” Karmen said. “The mandatory reporter policy at the University
of Michigan now is going to work as a way to punish pro-Palestine speech, and also to create this really disturbing surveillance state amongst workers.”
While the agreement was signed under former President Joe Biden’s administration, Trump’s return to the White House has been marked by an increasing number of crackdowns on universities, and individuals associated with them, by the federal government and allied conservative groups.
Peterson said Trump’s presidency has made faculty more anxious about the volume of information ECRT is supplying the federal government with, as Trump has not hesitated to use supposed civil rights infractions as ammunition to target universities over the past year.
“All of us are aware of the fact that whatever you say, however well intentioned it might be, can get fed into a conservative outrage machine and, in turn, vitally impact
your life,” Peterson said. “It’s not in our interest collectively as an institution to have things that some students find offensive piped directly off to Washington, D.C..”
In addition to the threat posed to faculty, Peterson said he worries the University’s mandatory reporting policies may also hurt students’ education, especially in liberal arts fields focused on the debate between different ideas.
“It is in being stretched, in being prodded, that one gets educated, one gets the ability to respond to ideas with which you disagree,” Peterson said. “These new reporting obligations will be a disincentive for any of us, whether as teachers or as students, to say things that others might deem challenging or even offensive. It’s not that we want to encourage offensive speech in its own right, but much of what we do in the classroom will sometimes offend some people, and that has to be part of the educational process.”
Karmen said that as a graduate student instructor, she was also concerned about how students will now be unable to confide in graduate student instructors without worrying that their issues might be escalated to ECRT under mandatory reporting requirements.
“I think the thing that’s more concerning is that students are now contending with the fact that GSIs, with whom they used to be able to talk and mention things without being worried that something would be elevated into a formal investigation process,” Karmen said. “They now don’t really have anyone to talk to at an informal level.”
Peterson said the new policies created an environment of selfenforced surveillance where faculty would be incentivized to report on their colleagues and students, stifling free speech on campus.
“It obliges us to be tattletales in many ways, on each other or on behalf of people who are not us, but that we fear might be offended by what another person at the institution says,” Peterson said. “It has the effect of making us all into instruments of surveillance.”
The Daily reached out to ECRT director Tamiko Strickman for her response to concerns about the updated mandatory reporting policies but was redirected to the Office of Public Affairs. In an email to The Daily, University spokesperson Kay Jarvis cited the specific section of the SPG pertaining to the new policies and wrote the University intended to uphold its agreement with OCR.
“The University of Michigan is committed to meeting its legal obligations while protecting the privacy, health and safety of our community,” Jarvis wrote. “The employee reporting requirement applies to information learned in the scope of employment about discrimination, harassment, or retaliation.”
CONTINUED AT MICHIGANDAILY.COM
Ann Arbor community protests outside Tesla showroom for ‘No Trillionaires Day of Action’
Protestors opposed a recent pay package that could make Elon Musk the world’s first trillionaire
in the stock market by nearly six times. Protesters carried signs with slogans including “The rich didn’t earn their money they stole it from the middle class” and “Make Tesla pay taxes” while chanting “Feed kids not kings, no trillionaires,” and “Money talks but so do we, time to end their tyranny.”
In the first months of President Donald Trump’s second term, Musk led the Department of Government Efficiency in an unelected role that has been criticized as unconstitutional. Musk left the White House in May after a public disagreement with Trump over the One Big Beautiful Bill.
In an interview with The Michigan Daily, Gus Teschke, a member of Ann Arbor Indivisible’s steering committee, said the protesters wanted to send a clear
message against extreme wealth and for political accountability.
“We’re just out here trying to say that no one needs $1 trillion,” Teschke said. “Musk has proved he’s going to use it to undermine democracy and to hurt people, kill people. So we’re against that. We want to replace the people that are supporting Trump with people who support democracy.”
DOGE focused on reducing federal spending through cuts to government programs such as the United States Agency for International Development, which officially shut down in July. Since
then, researchers estimate hundreds of thousands of people have died due to lack of humanitarian assistance.
Bill Gates has publicly criticized Musk, saying he was responsible for the deaths of children in countries that lost foreign aid.
Teschke said he disapproved of Musk’s past political and business actions, such as donating more than $200 million towards Trump’s presidential campaign, providing two Wisconsin voters with checks for supporting the Republican candidate in a Supreme Court election and cuts made by DOGE that were deemed unconstitutional.
“He spent like $270 million to help get Trump elected,” Teschke said. “He tried to buy a State Supreme Court race in Wisconsin. He (led) DOGE that was gutting our government services that people need. He ripped apart USAID, and that’s estimated to have caused the deaths of 600,000 people around the world. He’s a criminal. He shouldn’t be getting $1 trillion. He should be in jail.”
In an interview with The Daily, Ann Arbor resident Erica Gordon said the current U.S. political system favors the wealthy at the expense of average citizens.
“There’s so much money in politics and special interest groups are buying politicians to sway policies in their favor,” Gordon said. “The working person, the average individual, doesn’t have these types of political systems built in to help them.”
State Rep. Carrie Rheingans, D-Ann Arbor, told The Daily it was important to have public participation from everyone — including elected officials — in movements like this.
“Right now, all the folks that are here are taking a step to publicly say there are no kings in America,”
Rheingans said. “We don’t need to have trillionaires, and I think them seeing their representative, representing them, telling them they’re on the right side of history, helps people stay active and involved to keep demanding that we tax the rich and that we fund the things that we all need to live.” Rheingans highlighted the reallife impact of wealth inequality on her constituents’ health care struggles, arguing for the rich to be taxed to fund Michigan residents’ health care.
“I have constituents that are losing their health care coverage,” Rheingans said. “I have constituents who even have health care coverage (but) they can’t even use it because they have such high deductibles or they have
Maheen Rashid/DAILY
Ava Farah/DAILY
Ann Arbor residents Erica Gordon, Deanne Sovereen and Lourdes Heintz hold a sign at the “No Trillionaires” protest at Tesla Ann Arbor Saturday morning.
KAYLA LUGO Daily Staff Reporter
Ann
Arbor community members protest gender-affirming care cuts outside opening of
new Michigan Medicine
hospital
“They claim to be the Leaders and the Best, but they’re not leading or being the best on the topic of gender-affirming care.”
GLENN HEDIN Daily Staff Reporter
On Wednesday afternoon, more than a hundred people gathered inside the D. Dan and Betty Kahn Health Care Pavilion — Michigan Medicine’s newest hospital — to celebrate its grand opening. The atmosphere inside was one of celebration. The new hospital, an addition to University of Michigan’s medical complex that spans 12 stories and 690,000 square feet, contains advanced specialty care services
ACADEMICS
for individuals suffering from neurological and cardiovascular conditions.
Separated by a wall of glass windows, a group of Ann Arbor residents protested a few feet away from the building to remind attendees of Michigan Medicine’s decision to cease providing gender-affirming care to individuals under the age of 19 in response to a subpoena from the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services. In an interview with The Michigan Daily, Lauren Gaboury, an organizer with the Huron
Valley Democratic Socialists of America who helped organize the rally, said they believed the opening ceremony’s congratulatory atmosphere was hypocritical.
“They claim to be the Leaders and the Best, but they’re not leading or being the best on the topic of gender-affirming care,” Gaboury said.
In an email to The Daily, Mary Masson, Michigan Medicine public relations director, wrote that Michigan Medicine has worked to support former recipients of gender-affirming
care. The statement was nearly identical to an email sent by Masson to The Daily following a previous protest for genderaffirming care in September.
“We recognize the gravity and impact of our recent decision to discontinue pediatric gender affirming care for our patients and our community,” Masson wrote. “We have worked closely with and will continuously support the well-being of our patients, their families, and our care teams.”
CONTINUED AT MICHIGANDAILY.COM
Faculty Senate passes motions on gender-affirming care, AI policy, University governance
“We continue to capitulate to the demands of those unsupported by research and the bullying of the current administration.”
EDITH PENDELL Daily Senior News Editor
The University of Michigan Faculty Senate voted overwhelmingly to urge Michigan Medicine to resume genderaffirming care for individuals under the age of 19, oppose the exclusion of faculty from the Presidential Search Committee and call for a University-wide artificial intelligence policy according to results of a vote held after the Nov. 3 Faculty Senate meeting.
The Faculty Senate currently consists of 7,808 faculty members from all three U-M campuses, including tenured and tenuretrack faculty, research faculty, librarians, lecturers, clinical faculty, executive officers and
deans. At the Nov. 3 meeting, faculty introduced nine motions on University matters, all of which passed after a 72-hour voting period.
Of the 7,808 Faculty Senate members, 3,638 participated in this ballot — exceeding turnout from the April vote on the Big Ten mutual defense compact and diversity, equity and inclusion issues, and the November vote on censuring the University’s Board of Regents. In an interview with The Michigan Daily, SACUA Chair Derek Peterson said he was encouraged by the high level of turnout.
“It’s often said to me that faculty government is a small minority of complainers who are squeaky wheels and who pass motions with which very few people support,” Peterson said. “We’re the leading
public research university in the United States, and to an extent greater than they’ve ever done in their history, our faculty have signaled their interest in having us work with the administration to address some of the pressing problems that we collectively confront.”
Motion #110325-2, urging Michigan Medicine to resume gender-affirming care for individuals under the age of 19, passed with 2,432 votes yes, 555 votes no and 651 abstaining. The University initially issued the decision to end gender-affirming care for these individuals Aug. 25, citing a federal criminal and civil investigation against the institution.
At the meeting, Shanna Kattari, associate professor of social work and women’s
studies, said they viewed the pause to gender-affirming care as the University submitting to pressure from President Donald Trump’s administration.
“We continue to capitulate to the demands of those unsupported by research and the bullying of the current administration,” Kattari said.
“We have no right to call ourselves the leaders and best, only followers who have bent the knee.”
Motion #110325-3, opposing any capitulation by the U-M administration with the Trump administration’s “Compact for Academic Excellence in Higher Education,” passed with 2,978 votes yes, 225 votes no and 435 abstaining.
CONTINUED AT MICHIGANDAILY.COM
Ann Arbor organizations and businesses respond to pause in SNAP funding
“This has really highlighted that SNAP benefits don’t bridge the gap for a lot of people.”
gap for a lot of people,” Logan said.
Stanford Lipsey Student Publications Building 420 Maynard St. Ann Arbor, MI 48109-1327 734-418-4115
www.michigandaily.com
ZHANE YAMIN and MARY COREY Co-Editors in Chief eic@michigandaily.com
ELLA THOMPSON Business Manager business@michigandaily.com
NEWS TIPS tipline@michigandaily.com
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR tothedaily@michigandaily.com
FIONA LACROIX Digital Managing Editor flacroix@umich.edu
On Nov. 1, the United States Department of Agriculture Food and Nutrition Service temporarily paused the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program due to insufficient funds caused by the federal government shutdown, leaving the 30,000 Washtenaw County residents who depend on monthly food benefits reeling. During the government shutdown, which ended Wednesday, multiple local organizations and businesses took action to lessen the impact caused by the SNAP cuts. SNAP benefits have since resumed following
the reopening of the federal government. More than 51,000 Washtenaw County residents identify as food insecure, but not all have equal access to SNAP benefits, which require a specific set of eligibility requirements, taking household expenses, income and residency into account.
In an interview with The Michigan Daily, Mara Logan, shift manager and food access team member at Argus Farm Stop, said the shutdown emphasized the role local organizations can play in assisting the broader Ann Arbor community, even after SNAP benefits have been fully restored.
“This has really highlighted that SNAP benefits don’t bridge the
“I think it’d be great if they did, but I also don’t think that that’s going to change anytime super soon. So in the meantime, it is the responsibility of organizations like Argus Farm Stop, Food Gatherers and Fair Food Network to help bridge that gap the best they can.”
Prior to the government shutdown, Argus already implemented many initiatives to expand food access, including discounted weekly produce boxes and partnerships with local food distribution organizations. When SNAP benefits initially paused, Argus rolled out additional initiatives such as Round-Up at the Register, raising more than $5,200 for their Food Security
Fundraiser, which provides vouchers redeemable for up to $40 on a purchase to help customers who rely on SNAP benefits.
“From Nov. 1 — which is when we started the initiatives that are currently ongoing — to now, we’ve definitely noticed an uptick in how shoppers using EBT or SNAP are taking advantage of these programs,” Logan said. “As more people who are using SNAP learn about these programs, they’re starting to utilize them more, which is fantastic. We’re seeing that our community is really engaged to support their community and our programs are offering a way to do that.” CONTINUED AT MICHIGANDAILY.COM
JONATHAN WUCHTER and ZACH EDWARDS Managing Sports Editors sports@michigandaily.com
Senior Sports Editors: Annabelle Ye, Alina Levine, Niyatee Jain, Jordan Klein, Graham Barker, Sam Gibson
CAMILLE NAGY and OLIVIA TARLING Managing Arts Editors arts@michigandaily.com
Senior Arts Editors: Nickolas Holcomb, Ben Luu, Sarah Patterson, Campbell Johns, Cora Rolfes, Morgan Sieradski
LEYLA DUMKE and ABIGAIL SCHAD Managing Design Editors design@michigandaily.com
Senior Layout Editors: Junho Lee, Maisie Derlega, Annabelle Ye Senior Illustrators: Lara Ringey, Caroline Xi, Matthew Prock, Selena Zou
ALENA MIKLOSOVIC and BRENDAN DOWNEY Managing Copy Editors copydesk@michigandaily.com
Senior Copy Editors: Josue Mata, Tomilade Akinyelu, Tim Kulawiak, Jane Kim, Ellie Crespo, Lily Cutler, Cristina Frangulian, Elizabeth Harrington, Alina Murata
DARRIN ZHOU and EMILY CHEN Managing Online Editors webteam@michigandaily.com
Data Editors: Daniel Johnson, Priya Shah Engineering Manager: Tianxin “Jessica” Li, Julia Mei Product Managers: Sanvika Inturi, Ruhee Jain Senior Software Engineer: Kristen Su
AHTZIRI PASILLAS-RIQUELME and MAXIMILIAN THOMPSON Managing Video Editors video@michigandaily.com
Senior Video Editors: Cameron Detulleo, Gretel Foglesong
Senior MiC Editors: Isabelle Fernandes, Aya Sharabi, Maya Kogulan, Nghi Nguyen
AVA CHATLOSH and MEGAN GYDESEN Managing Podcast Editors podeditors@michigandaily.com
Senior Podcast Editor: Quinn Murphy, Matt Popp, Sasha Kalvert
MILES ANDERSON and DANIEL BERNSTEIN Managing Audience Engagement Editors socialmedia@michigandaily.com
Senior Audience Engagement Editors: Dayoung Kim, Lauren Kupelian, Kaelyn Sourya, Daniel Lee, Quinn Murphy, Madison Hammond, Sophia Barczak, Lucy Miller, Isbely Par SARA WONG and AYA SHARABI Michigan in Color Managing Editors michiganincolor@michigandaily.com
SAYSHA MAHADEVAN and EMMA SULAIMAN Culture, Training, and Inclusion Co-Chairs accessandinclusion@michigandaily.com
ANNA MCLEAN and DANIEL JOHNSON Managing Focal Point Editors lehrbaum@umich.edu, reval@umich.edu Senior Focal Point Editors: Elizabeth Foley and Sasha Kalvert
TALIA BLACK and HAILEY MCCONNAUGHY Managing Games Editors crosswords@umich.edu Senior Games Editors: James Knake, Alisha Gandhi, Milan Thurman, Alex Warren
Business Staff
OLIVIA VALERY Marketing Manager
DRU HANEY Sales Manager
GABRIEL PAREDES Creative Director JOHN ROGAN Strategy Manager
Rackham student Ale Duckenfield-Lopez and
Humanities Thursday
Jacob Collier, the champion of crossover
Indeed, Collier has touched many areas of the music industry.
Collier is an important player in.
‘The Life Of A Showgirl’: Product disguised as poetry
NATHANIEL EVANS Daily Arts Contributor
Deep within the practice wing of the Earl V. Moore Building, bored student musicians often take to writing on the walls of practice rooms. The scribbles range from funny cartoons to brain rot humor to entertaining polls. The first time I came across Jacob Collier, I was on the brink of insanity trying to learn orchestral excerpts, and I decided to gaze upon these walls — a favorite pastime of mine.
One of the many sprawls asked about favorite musicians and pieces, and another writer responded to their question with a name: Jacob Collier. I asked around, and everyone seemed to know who he was. I was clearly out of the loop. As I explored his background and discography, I found that the English singersongwriter, arranger and producer transcends the classical and jazz realm, engaging with mainstream pop and indie music in a special way. His 50-track album series Djesse features four volumes and testifies to his diverse musicality.
“The Djesse series has incorporated so many people from every continent of the world, with over 100 different collaborators from all walks of life — whether it be orchestras, choirs, rock stars and pop stars,” Collier said in an interview with Billboard Philippines. “It’s all these different kinds of people, and I’ve learned so much from witnessing other people do their work.”
The seven-time Grammy award-winning artist is described by The New York Times as a “staggering musical prodigy,” seen through his viral conducting videos and collaborations with Coldplay and Shawn Mendes.
On Oct. 20, Collier participated in the Penny Stamps Speaker Series and gave a lecture at the Michigan Theater. Coincidentally, his mother — renowned conductor, violinist and educator Suzie Collier — taught a master class on curiosity, success and performance in the Britton Recital Hall the day before.
This mini-residency culminated in a performance at Hill Auditorium on Oct. 21, where Collier collaborated with his mother, the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra and virtuosic mandolinist and singer-songwriter Chris Thile.
Witnessing the first half of the concert firsthand, I could see the exuberance and energy Collier brought to the stage through his body language and facial expressions. Not only was his stage presence colossal, but his technique and understanding of music were astonishing as well.
The positivity emanating from Collier almost seemed like it should have been faked or forced, but a real genuineness shone through. Thile was breathtakingly talented, battling the beast that was mastering a Bach violin concerto on the mandolin and coming out on top. The orchestra followed every cue, the singers blended seamlessly with the music and the audience participation was marvelous. Everything on stage fell perfectly into place.
In an interview with The Michigan Daily, Sarah Calderini, Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra executive director, detailed how this was Collier’s first time in Ann Arbor — a fact Collier brought up himself during the performance, to which he received tons of applause. Calderini also characterized the current state of musical genremixing, which she believes
“(Everyone is) obsessed with this idea of crossover; Jacob is probably the most iconic crossover artist,” Calderini said.
His wisdom, insatiable curiosity and unwillingness to follow the conventional rules of music really resonate with people. When prompted to reflect on how the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra adjusted to playing with Collier, Calderini praised the collaborative process.
“This is a really exciting space to play in. Our musicians are professionals, and they place themselves in a lot of different genres. I think their thinking is that, as long as it’s good music, they will play anything.”
Music, Theatre & Dance senior Vanessa Dominguez performed as one of the back-up singers for the event after staff reached out to professor Chelsea Packard, assistant professor of music, searching for singers. In an interview with The Michigan Daily, Dominguez spoke about working with Collier.
“The experience was such a blast, and we were treated like such professionals,” Dominguez said. “Witnessing that trust and connection between (Collier) and the audience was a beautiful thing.”
Besides his undeniable talent, describing what makes Jacob Collier so captivating for audiences is difficult. Could it be his eclectic wardrobe? Or perhaps his British charm? Whatever it may be, the masses are vying for raw talent to be used in untraditional ways.
The stuffy suit-wearing classical musician has become stale, and even the cookie-cutter mold of the modern pop-star is growing weary. We’re tired of putting performers in boxes and expecting them to keep reinventing the wheel. The wheel’s already rolling — it’s time to catch up.
The Body Undone: Ballet BC and the beauty of becoming human crossover
Presented by the University Musical Society (UMS), The Body Undone brought Vancouver’s premiere contemporary dance company, Ballet BC, to the Power Center for the Performing Arts on Oct. 17. The evening featured two works — “Pieces of Tomorrow” and “Passing” — that explored transformation, community and the fragile choreography of being human. The stage opened in shades of gray. A solo began the evening, more dancers quickly joining the stage in near-silence, their movements soft and deliberate, bodies unfolding like smoke. Gradually, others joined — duets and trios folding into one another like a shared breath, creating a single rhythm. It felt less like a performance and more like a pulse beginning to steady, something human slowly waking up.
The first piece of the evening was “Pieces of Tomorrow,” choreographed by Medhi Walerski. Midway through, the
air shifted. From the soft chaos, a gold sculpture emerged — a figure built from recycled fragments, gleaming against the muted backdrop. It appeared wordlessly, as if summoned by the motion around it. For a long moment, the dancers moved in silence, orbiting the figure as if it were the heart of their creation. The stillness was startling, frightening even.
Walerski’s collaboration with visual artist Lyle XOX turned waste into worship. The sculpture, made from found objects, didn’t just decorate the stage; it reshaped it. “Pieces of Tomorrow” became the act of transformation itself, art reborn from what’s been thrown away.
The reimagined score, Johan Ullén’s Infinite Bach, stretched and fractured familiar melodies until they sounded like memories of themselves. It was all about reconstruction: sound, motion, matter, self.
The evening’s second work, “Passing,” choreographed by Johan Inger, shifted the tone entirely — a meditation on time, emotion and the fragile choreography of being alive. It
Pop music had a banner year in 2024. There were a number of expertly crafted, culturally significant and commercially successful pop albums that competed both for our wallets and critical acclaim. Projects like Hit Me Hard and Soft, Brat and Short n’ Sweet gave us exciting, catchy and imaginative tracks with the pleasant accessibility that we expect from our favorite pop stars. Still, when you look at the charts and compare streaming numbers, none of these novel, creative or just plain fun projects came in first. Rather, it was a disappointing musical and artistic project from Taylor Swift that made it to the top. While The Tortured Poets Department’s commercial success might be confusing for some given its questionable musical choices, there must be something that accounts for its success. And there is. By the time of this album’s release, Swift had built a brand so bulletproof that quality was no longer a consideration in judging her work. Making the album enjoyable was seemingly no longer the goal — Swift as an icon had proven more lucrative than Swift as a musician. While other pop albums in 2024 competed for attention through their commitment to musicianship, Swift was able to outstrip them through her sheer force of celebrity.
This airtight branding certainly worked for her latest album, The Life of a Showgirl, which garnered astounding commercial success within its first week. It’s clear Swift is still not finished working her popular magic. Despite a brief runtime of only 41 minutes, she has continued her unmatched streak of mountainous success with this release, bringing together her massive fanbase for a more upbeat
musical experience than her previous album.
Its commercial success, however, is truly the only impressive aspect of this record.
For a project made by one of the most famous musicians in the world, it certainly does not sound like it. The title and artwork for this album spark thoughts of extravagance, drama, opulence and wealth. These thoughts should be tucked away immediately, as none of them will be manifested by the stale, unadventurous and frankly embarrassing journey of The Life of a Showgirl
If you want something with a pulse, your best bet is “The Fate of Ophelia,” with a decently catchy chorus and a relatively elegantly crafted instrumental. Not exactly a fireworks show, but listenable enough for the department store speakers. After a couple more tracks, you’d be forgiven for thinking that this is going to be the album’s modus operandi: tasteful pop jams with Swift’s trademark lyrical flourishes. Oh, how right I wish you were.
After expending all of the gas in her tank on the first song, the last nine tracks of this album are in a high-stakes competition for making you skip the fastest. The tracklist subjects you to the most devilish game of roulette, where your binary options are “extremely boring” and “comically insufferable.” The songwriting on copy-paste tunes like “Wi$h Li$t” and “Ruin The Friendship” is instantly flavorless. These are song concepts that even a generative artificial intelligence model would reject as being too cliché, especially for an artist who has shown just how far into her songwriting bag she can reach when she demands it of herself.
On the flip side, lyrical exercises like “Eldest Daughter” and the title track seriously test one’s patience, the former being overtly stuffed with social media buzzwords to
The Michigan Daily Crossword
ACROSS
1. Neighbor of Arg.
4. Lightweight wood
9. Downright
14. Before,
began with a scattering, a thin trail of ashes tracing across the stage like the outline of a path.
The dust hung in the air, catching the light, a soft reminder of what is left behind. From that quiet act, life unfolded.
The first gestures were small, ordinary — a dancer’s hand brushing another’s arm, a shared glance, a walk across the space. Then, the duets emerged, delicate but grounded. Each moment felt unhurried, as though the dancers were remembering rather than performing. At one moment, the dancers began to weave what felt like fragments of everyday stories — playful exchanges told entirely through movement. Their gestures hinted at shared jokes and familiar routines, moments that felt almost humorous in their honesty, a sense of play that connected the performers with the audience. This spontaneity drew the audience closer, reminding us that beneath technique and form, we are all simply human — imperfect, emotional and longing to be understood. CONTINUED AT MICHIGANDAILY.COM
cry
Old frozen dinner brand
Actor Pitt of "Bullet Train" 5. "You've got mail!" company 6. Wall St. maneuver
Egyptian peninsula 8. What 15-Across laid, in a playground Christmas parody 9. "ASAP!"
10. Member of
distract from the even more overt lack of anything interesting to say. The most immediate defense of these grating lyrical choices is the argument that Swift is being cringe on purpose; she’s only saying these things to comment on our lack of authenticity. But this song is not some sort of maskoff moment for Swift. It’s just another carefully laid brick in constructing a persona — Taylor Swift is not a bleeding heart poet simply too cringe for her own good, she is a billionaire with the best producers, marketers and PR managers that money can buy. That being said, Swift clearly does not use this potential wealth of information to her advantage, as her few interesting artistic statements stand out as being obscenely out of touch. “Actually Romantic,” for instance, is seemingly directed at fellow pop star Charli xcx. The lyrics “I heard you call me Boring Barbie when the coke’s got you brave” appear to reference Charli’s own allusions to cocaine on 2024’s Brat, and “Wrote me a song saying it makes you sick to see my face” aligns with the story that Charli tells on “Sympathy is a knife.” If the track is truly about Charli xcx, then it is a masterclass in being unable to read the room — “Sympathy is a knife” is not a diss track against Swift, but rather a harrowing examination of Charli’s feelings of impostor syndrome and insecurity, which have made her feel like she isn’t good enough to be around her mainstream peers. Furthermore, the angle that Swift chooses to approach this from is equally strange. Apparently, this insecurity somehow translates to Charli having a romantic fixation with her, which is about as convincing in this summary as it is in the actual song.
CONTINUED AT MICHIGANDAILY.COM
ASHANTI MIRELEZ Daily Arts Contributor
TARA WASIK Style Beat Editor
Courtesy of Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra
Arts Contributor
The old Reneé Rapp can’t come to the phone right now. Why? Because now, six-odd years after starting to make headlines for her starring roles in Broadway’s production of “Mean Girls” and HBO’s “The Sex Lives of College Girls,” Rapp has entirely cast her gaze away from the acting world in favor of a career in the music industry.
At her recent concert in Sterling Heights, one thing was made clear amid the intricate stage production and her powerhouse vocals: Rapp has completed her full transformation into a bona fide pop star, and she’s not planning to go anywhere.
After a perilous journey to the Michigan Lottery Amphitheatre (the highways in Metro Detroit are no joke), I arrived just in time for a tasteful set from opener Syd, who took the stage promptly and performed a combination of original songs and covers, including a rendition of “Intimidated” by Kaytranada.
The chill electronica of the song encapsulated Syd’s musical universe well, which is often steeped in dreamy synths and understated vocals. Later in the night, Rapp went on to say that she’s a huge fan of Syd personally, and her influence can be easily felt in Rapp’s introspective lyrics and R&B sound.
Suddenly, the screens on either side of the stage came to life and began playing a short video displaying numerous versions of Rapp deep in argument: There was a brunette Reneé dressed in a suit; a jock Reneé with a backwards baseball cap; a Reneé
whose outfit recalls one of the most iconic scenes of “Mean Girls.” Finally, Reneé as we know her appeared, wearing a simple blue T-shirt and screaming for everyone to “shut the fuck up!” before getting up and attacking the camera.
Everything went dark for a moment before we saw a shot of her being interrogated for this crime. Her response? A smug proclamation of her need to be left alone. Suddenly, the curtain dropped and the real Reneé appeared on stage, expressing the same desire in song form by diving straight into a performance of her recent single “Leave Me Alone.” It felt like a rebirth. She’d finally killed off all these past versions of herself and a new version of the singer — clad in black leather and accompanied by roaring guitars — has risen from the ashes.
Rapp’s jaw-dropping vocal abilities are what originally brought her into the public eye during her days in the musical theatre industry, and they remain today the most dazzling aspect of her music.
Her voice at the show proved to be just as spectacular as ever, a shape-shifting beast flitting effortlessly from low, sultry R&B
to gorgeous falsetto to what was practically screaming during certain climactic moments. One of the biggest highlights of the performance was her rendition of “Snow Angel,” the title track of her 2023 album of the same name.
A song with a slow-burning killer buildup, the song started simply with light piano and ended with Rapp belting flawlessly at the reaches of her upper register over heavy-hitting guitar. It’s an emotional song to begin with, but Rapp poured so much pathos into the live rendition that it might be difficult to listen to the studio recording again.
Rapp’s setlist drew heavily from her newest album, the tour’s eponymous Bite Me. She performed all 12 of its tracks, which approach a relatively pure-pop sound interspersed with R&B and rock influences.
The songs that leaned away from the classic pop-song formula and into these niches actually proved to be the highlights of the show:
The grungy guitar echoing the melody of “Leave Me Alone” has undeniable bite, and the swinging melody and frequent vocal runs of “Why Is She Still Here” are catchy and unique. CONTINUED AT MICHIGANDAILY.COM
LILA DARWICHE Daily Arts Contributor
In preparation for my first semester of college, I made sure to pack every sweater I owned. Over the course of the summer, I’d periodically scroll through Pinterest, elaborately envisioning a season of pumpkin patches and cozy campus walks. I imagined the breeze catching my hair on the way to class, and how I’d align my steps to the beat of a song that felt unmistakably “fall.” I found myself anticipating the colder weather, warmer leaves and the feelings of content I hoped they’d bring me.
Now, I’m here on campus and something’s not quite right. My drinks are hot and my hands are cold, but my brows are scrunching together as I read through current events and feel my stomach turning over protests and news articles that only seem to forecast impending doom. I step outside in a cable-knit sweater that’s supposed to keep me warm, but
there’s an unshakeable chill of political instability in the air. My internet usage conned me into creating an idealized fall for myself, one absent of the distress and discomfort that exist in tandem with reality. There are talks of thought policing and destruction of constitutional rights, but pumpkin patch photos keep rolling in. Online spaces have become especially alluring for escaping what’s truly happening around us. The people feel powerless, and the result is a growing dissonance between what’s being pushed on the internet versus what we experience in real life, as we attempt to chase a descent into authoritarianism with a fresh pumpkin spice latte. The internet enables users to subvert the passage of time and find a sense of escapism by reveling in their own nostalgia. When current events become stressful (which seems like a daily occurrence these days), there is a reservoir of comforting media that users can seek out to alleviate
the uneasiness they may feel engaging in otherwise distressing internet spaces. More specifically, the easy access to troublesome information can create a “boring dystopia,” where users become so used to bad news that it no longer garners strong emotional responses. They can become so fatigued by the sheer amount of online stressors that they have to seek refuge in media that is more relaxed to protect their peace. This can be overwhelmingly apparent when autumn rolls around, especially because the season itself is fundamentally warm and familiar. Fall traditions are largely unchanging, manifesting in internet spaces that regurgitate the same fall trend cycles, color schemes and media. There is similar imagery of leaves, sweaters, coffee and Halloween decorations that persists throughout the years, allowing a psychological escape to an arbitrary time where fall aesthetics are all that exist. CONTINUED AT
Caroline Xi/DAILY
Lara Ringey/DAILY
Registration prep via finger reps
Ypsilanti, not Ann Arbor, will bear the cost of the U-M LANL data center
ELENA NICHOLSON Senior Opinion Editor
Development with measured environmental cost is commonplace, and normally considered a necessary evil for progress in human society. Growth through development aims at idealistic pursuits such as gaining knowledge or influence. But it can become outright unethical when it directly harms the vulnerable, especially when those pursuing it are actively making commitments to lofty sustainability goals that are antithetical to a project’s inherent ecological effects.
The University of Michigan exemplifies this conundrum with sprawling construction projects, climbing emissions and growing student populations clashing directly with its pledge for a carbon neutral future. At the crux of its recent industrial expansion, the University is partnering with Los Alamos National Laboratory to build a massive $1.25 billion data processing center in Washtenaw County.
LANL, one of 16 research and design government-owned labs for the U.S. Department of Energy, famously developed the atomic bomb. The data center — which the University would like publicly referred to as a high-performance computing facility — is conveniently close to home, right in a commercial district of Ypsilanti. The Ann Arbor population of University students
and faculty will have access to all the resources the facility provides; however, the center will be far enough from home that they won’t experience any of its adverse impacts.
Though construction has stalled due to community pushback, the University is making several promises about sustainability and energy use that seem almost impossible to uphold. Between the murky nature of the government partnership, serious environmental concerns and a general lack of transparency with the University and Ypsilanti communities, research progress cannot be the only justification for the glaring ethical concerns associated with this development.
On the University’s frequently asked questions page for the data center, it poses a standard question: What will the project look like? After delivering a rough outline on what the center is, the site immediately points out what it isn’t: “The university is not building a commercial data center.”
This phrasing, while accurate, is meant to placate public curiosity. In reality, there will be two separate functions of the facility, and the University will only maintain the area of the facility for research purposes. In the rest of it, LANL will conduct classified government research for national security. LANL — which places nuclear deterrence and threat reduction as their primary imperatives for national security — will have full
authority over the classified site.
Despite assurances that no nuclear operations will occur on this site, there will be no mechanism for the University to enforce this due to its confidentiality.
Even if producing nuclear warheads isn’t the center’s goal — which we can’t be sure of — drones, surveillance technology and other weaponry appear to be fair game. This partnership may not work to produce the worst of all evils, but the University certainly should not tolerate lesser ones in return.
The lack of details on this separated jurisdiction has generated a resounding sense of distrust in the Ypsilanti community. Whether this data center is commercial or not, residents will certainly face considerable impacts. Among those, environmental considerations are certainly most pressing, which the FAQ addresses:
“The University of Michigan is committed to ensuring that the new facility is developed in a way that protects the environment, supports local infrastructure, and minimizes disruption to the community,” the FAQ reads. “From safeguarding the Huron River to incorporating sustainable design features, every aspect of the project is being carefully planned to align with environmental best practices.”
The utopian world in which this data center goes up without any adverse impact on the Ypsilanti community is an impossibility. CONTINUED AT MICHIGANDAILY.COM
Reframe adolescent firearm fatalities in public health, not politics
United
As a future educator, making sure students learn and grow safely in and out of school motivates me to serve young adults well in their formative years — it’s all about the kids. I ground my teaching by valuing the students’ progress, their futures and their communities. One looming threat to the safety and growth of young students and their learning is the menacing presence of gun violence.
My fellow education classmates, family friends or random acquaintances sometimes accept the threatening presence as inevitable. One peer even went as far as telling me, “Welcome to the profession,” following a lockdown during my student teaching. But, I need my students to live and learn without a norm of fear. The danger guns impose on students stretches beyond schools and pervasively towers over the lives of adolescents.
Since 2020, firearms have been the leading cause of death for children between ages one and 17. In 2021, about 4.6 million children lived in homes that stored guns loaded and unlocked, even though firearms are the leading injury method of accidental deaths. In 2021, of the nearly 17,000 high school students surveyed, 3% reported
bringing a weapon to school at least once during the previous 30 days.
As adolescents begin to experience a developmental stage of risk-taking, irregular impulse control and increased independence, guns are a dangerous and extraneous variable. Gun control’s political gridlock fails to remedy a weapon-based epidemic, so governmental officials must address the prevalence of gun deaths during adolescence as a public health issue instead. Americans can prevent incidental and intentional gun injuries, and this effort must move toward a scope of public health that promotes research, interventions and reasonable regulations.
While politics traditionally act as an agent of change, the partisan approach to gun control continues to fall short, as numerous policies lose momentum on Capitol Hill. Mass shootings stretch back decades. While international governments have passed comprehensive gun control following such events, the United States has failed to do the same. This isn’t for no reason, though. Many progun organizations incentivize American politicians to neglect any effort to pass laws that address gun violence. Additionally, guns are pervasive in America. Recent estimates place the number of civilian-owned firearms in the
funded by pro-gun organizations in a country flooded with guns make political action or anti-gun movements almost obsolete.
In a gun-loving country, we need a public health approach for treating firearm fatalities, and car crashes can act as a model. Since the 1970s, car crash fatalities have decreased greatly. Researchers cite a public health approach as justification for the reduction — an approach grounded in research-backed regulations on cars, drivers and roads, educating the public and founding organizations that enforced laws. As a result, drunk driving fatalities decreased, people wore seatbelts more and infrastructure and cars alike became safer. Considering that gun technology is ingrained in American culture, experts can compel pro-gun parties to support gun control in the name of public health. Guns won’t disappear, so efforts should shift to making them safer, educating the public and introducing rational gun regulations. Logically, it’s impossible to take all guns away. Awareness of gun violence prevention must shift to implementing triumphant strategies that create nonpartisan cultural shifts regarding safety.
CONTINUED AT MICHIGANDAILY.COM
People first, then power: What Zohran Mamdani teaches Democrats about winning again
SETH GABRIELSON Opinion Columnist
Democracy, at its healthiest, is an act of listening. In recent years, however, American politics has become an act of performance — a contest of denunciations, outrage and fear. Into that exhausted arena steps Zohran Mamdani, a young assemblyman from Queens who speaks with disarming plainness about rent, bus fares and groceries. He does not treat voters as props in a morality play but as participants in a shared civic project. His style, so ordinary that it feels radical, may hold the key to revitalizing the Democratic Party.
Mamdani represents a politics of material empathy: meeting citizens where their lives are at in the economy of bills and wages rather than in the abstractions of Washington discourse. He grounds moral conviction in economic clarity — describing not merely what the government ought to value, but what it can afford to deliver. In doing so, he bridges the gap between moral aspiration and practical
relief. His approach, if not a national blueprint, is at least a demonstration of how Democrats might again speak to the public as a coalition of citizens rather than a collection of demographics.
Three principles define the Mamdani model. The first is accessibility. He is present, responsive and unembarrassed to speak in the vocabulary of ordinary life. Politics, for him, begins with listening, not branding. The second is economic centrality. Every sentence of his platform returns to the material: rent, transit, childcare, health care. He translates morality into arithmetic — what it costs, what it saves, who pays. The third is constructive populism. His campaign refuses the performative antagonism that dominates national politics. He defines himself not by whom he opposes, but by whom he serves. In that sense, he channels a lineage stretching from Fiorello La Guardia to Franklin Roosevelt: a politics of joy and competence, not resentment.
The effect is measurable. In New York City’s 2025 mayoral primary, Mamdani’s campaign greatly increased turnout in
renter-heavy precincts — an extraordinary figure in modern urban politics. His call to freeze the rent and make city buses free produced a message so specific and memorable that it mobilized voters who had long regarded politics as irrelevant. A single pilot program of fare-free buses, initiated at his urging, became tangible proof that the government could deliver something immediate and useful. In an age of cynicism, demonstration mattered more than declaration. The contrast with the national Democratic Party is stark. For years, Republicans have won elections by selling a product they claim to despise — government — promising to dismantle it on behalf of a disenchanted public. Democrats, by contrast, have too often offered morality without math: lofty ideals detached from cost and consequence. Mamdani inverts both errors. He believes the government should serve, but he insists that service be legible — a receipt, not a sermon. As he puts it, democracy must prove its worth.
States around 400 to 500 million. Politicians
MEREDITH KNIGHT
Emmeline Meldrum/DAILY
Hailey
Standing up for transgender youth: Michigan Medicine must reverse course
SOPHIE GUYMON Opinion Contributor
On Aug. 25, Michigan Medicine announced it would stop providing gender-affirming hormonal therapies and puberty blockers to patients under 19 years old, citing external pressure following a federal subpoena tied to a criminal and civil investigation into such care for minors. These treatments, however, remain legal in Michigan. This appalling capitulation to transphobic threats from President Donald Trump’s administration showcases a disregard for state law and brings unnecessary harm to transgender youth. As a leader in health care, Michigan Medicine must reinstate these essential interventions in accordance with state policy, recommendations from major medical organizations and its responsibility to provide comprehensive, multidisciplinary support.
Michigan Medicine is the top hospital in Michigan and ranks among the top 20 in the nation. The University of Michigan Comprehensive Gender Services Program is the nation’s longestrunning university-based program for gender-affirming surgery, dating back to 1968, and re-established in 1993 after a hiatus. The program has become a hub for multidisciplinary care, bringing together medical,
mental health and social work professionals. As of Aug. 25, pediatric gender-affirming care is now limited to mental health and support services, including group and individual therapies. As a major health care institution, Michigan Medicine’s decision to end gender-affirming care sets a problematic precedent. This move flouts the consensus of the American Academy of Pediatrics, the American Medical Association and the American Psychiatric Association, all of which support age-appropriate, gender-affirming care and recognize that the moves made by Michigan Medicine violate state law. In March 2023, Michigan law was updated to include gender identity and expression as protected classes under the Elliott-Larsen Civil Rights Act, making discrimination based on these identities — a form of discrimination now exemplified by Michigan Medicine — unlawful. Genderaffirming care for youth consists of developmentally appropriate multidisciplinary supports, including social transition, mental health interventions and medical treatments when appropriate, in compliance with guidelines from the World Professional Association for Transgender Health. These supports have been shown to reduce anxiety, depression and suicidal ideation in young transgender and genderqueer people.
The Trump administration and its supporters claim this care is inappropriate. On Jan. 28, Trump released Executive Order 14187, “Protecting Children From Chemical and Surgical Mutilation.” The order criticizes WPATH, describes gender-affirming care as so-called “mutilation” and creates an inaccurate impression that surgical interventions for transgender youth are commonplace. In reality, surgical intervention for transgender minors is infrequent, with a recent study finding that only 0.02% of transgender youth nationwide had received genderaffirming surgeries, the majority of which were chest procedures.
WPATH’s guidelines are scientifically sound and ensure that patients provide informed consent before receiving any kind of medical intervention. Informed consent entails providing complete information about potential reproductive effects and the appropriate involvement of parents in decision-making.
Puberty blockers and hormone therapies are both safe, with puberty blockers being fully reversible and hormone therapies being partially or fully reversible, depending on the length of treatment. These treatments are hardly mutilation — in fact, they can be life-saving.
Access to gender-affirming care for youth meaningfully reduces suicide attempts, anxiety, depression and gender dysphoria,
The Louvre heist unmasks cultural extraction
British Museum to return.
Like many others, I’ve followed every update regarding the recent heist at the Musée du Louvre in Paris over the last few weeks. In the span of seven minutes, robbers were able to steal two tiaras, a brooch, an earring and other crown jewels from the Apollo Gallery. The absurdity of how the thieves were able to achieve such a feat has garnered a whole host of reactions ranging from heartbreak to humor.
The Louvre is one of the largest and most visited art galleries in the world. However, a portion of that collection is, to put it simply, stolen from other cultures. The fact that the more recently stolen objects were part of French history feels a bit like comical karmic justice, prompting TikToks and posts on X. The humorous and lightly pro-heist sentiment parallels jokes most often leveled against the British Museum in London for a global collection based in part on unethically acquired items. Making fun of the whole heist situation and the broader issue of culturally appropriated objects is one of the more accessible avenues for expressing our discomfort, but there comes a time when we must also recognize the deeper
significance of how these cultural objects are housed.
Moreover, we can’t forget that the issue of stolen collections isn’t limited to only the British Museum and the Louvre — rather, it’s part of a broader history of imperialism and cultural extraction.
When it comes to curating a museum, cultural extraction means taking a cultural object — maybe an idol or figurine that had religious importance to a community centuries ago — and making it available to an audience of visitors for educational purposes.
But in the context of the Louvre and the other museums in its milieu, from the Pergamon Museum in Berlin to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, cultural extraction certainly does carry a stigma. When considering just how certain cultural artifacts like the Ishtar Gate arrived at these European or North American museums, confronting the legacy of imperialism is unavoidable.
A visit to the British Museum’s Egyptian wings, for example, means you’ll be viewing objects largely acquired through British colonial intervention throughout the 19th and early 20th centuries. There, you’ll see one of the museum’s most notable artifacts, the Rosetta Stone, which Egyptians have asked the
improving overall quality of life and happiness. Conversely, youth facing anti-LGBTQ+ legislation report worsening mental health, including increased anxiety and fear. Families affected by recent legislation targeting genderaffirming care, particularly those who are low-income, people of Color, indigenous or living in rural areas, face repeated disruptions to care and mental health crises, as well as mounting physical, psychological and financial burdens.
These disruptions have a ripple effect, resulting in longer waitlists, fewer care options and diminished access to essential mental health services for everyone.
The public response to Michigan Medicine’s Aug. 25 statements is significant.
State Rep. Emily Dievendorf, D-Lansing, Michigan’s first non-binary representative, condemned the decision and highlighted its potentially stigmatizing impact. Michigan Attorney General Dana Nessel authored an open letter urging compliance with Michigan law, which prohibits discrimination and protects access to care.
The University’s Central Student Government passed the P.R.I.D.E. Task Force Act, pushing for administrative reversal. At the same time, hundreds of demonstrators organized by the Huron Valley Democratic Socialists of America, the University’s
chapter of the Young Democratic Socialists of America and the Trans Unity Coalition protested outside of the University Hospital. Stand with Trans, a Michigan-based organization focused on transgender youth, is compiling resource lists for youth and families facing disruptions in care.
The importance of community response and efforts cannot be understated; however, the responsibility for Michigan Medicine’s decision and its repercussions should not be with the people most affected but with the decision-makers themselves. State representatives and policymakers must continue speaking out. U-M alumni and donors can increase pressure on the administration with financial boycotts, and Michigan residents can vote out current members of the University’s Board of Regents during the next biennial election cycle. Those of us in a position of privilege that enables us to educate others about gender-affirming care for youth and its importance without compromising our own safety and security must do so.
Michigan Medicine can take further action to safeguard transgender youth and promote broader health equity beyond reinstating gender-affirming care. In March, the University developed a new research funding program to offset federal cuts. The University and Michigan Medicine are not
dependent on federal grants and receive extensive funding from other sources. Boston Children’s Hospital — one of the leading national pediatric hospitals — recently blocked the subpoena in federal court. Michigan Medicine can and should do the same to defend its patients, programs and right to privacy. Caving to federal pressure rather than prioritizing client well-being is an abdication of UMCGSP’s mission and legacy. Historically, UMCGSP has prided itself on providing sustainable and comprehensive multidisciplinary care, underpinned by investment in structural factors, education and community engagement. Michigan Medicine’s Aug. 25 statement signals a departure from these values and communicates different priorities — profit and risk avoidance.
If Michigan Medicine is genuinely committed to supporting its clients, it must offer more than hollow words of support. This commitment means condemning the Trump administration’s attacks on gender-affirming care for youth and resisting political intimidation. Michigan Medicine must reinstate a full spectrum of gender-affirming care for youth in alignment with its own values, legal obligations and scientific recommendations. Until then, Michigan Medicine cannot claim to be among the Leaders and Best.
We need a moderate revolution
MATEO ALVAREZ Opinion Analyst
Oftentimes, it’s fun to think about the things we’re taught as kids — those silly little lessons posted on the walls of daycares and playgrounds meant to teach children basic social skills and behaviors. However, classic refrains like “sharing is caring” and “treat others the way you want to be treated” rarely stay top-of-mind as we grow into adulthood — but nowhere less so than in the swampy and shady halls of Washington, D.C. Humility, kindness and compassion have never been politicians’ defining qualities, but the D.C. elite have outright rejected one particular mantra: “Take everything in moderation.”
radicalism, bigotry and hate have managed to roam free. Unfettered from the musky internet chat rooms they were once relegated to, many extremist voices have crept into the spotlight, becoming some of the right’s most prominent characters. Where they were once the top public enemy, selfdescribed “white supremacists” are some of the hottest people in politics. For instance, Nick Fuentes, the unapologetically racist farright commentator, has amassed a cult-like following. Just before his ban from Spotify, his podcast “America First” was the leading show on the site.
With this sudden wave of Republicans showing their Nazi streak, it might be reasonable to expect the Democrats to moderate their message and appeal to the millions of American independents and conservatives that aren’t interested in the Republicans’ extremism. Instead, progressives seem to have completely lost the plot. Now, the country’s liberal base seems poised to take its most radical step to date, as the left has compiled its own wave of problematic personalities to lead it further away from the center.
The museum has, in turn, pointed to the signature of an 1801 treaty by an Ottoman admiral who fought with the British against the French, who discovered and possessed the artifact. In the eyes of the museum, the inclusion of a representative of an Ottoman sultan demonstrates a legal acquisition. Therefore, leaders of the British Museum push the very thought of returning the Rosetta Stone, along with the other numerous unethicallyacquired artifacts they house, to the side indefinitely.
And, again, it isn’t just the British Museum or the Louvre. Understanding how these collections were built and continue to exist means facing the facts that, despite decolonization by these various world powers, there continues to be this imbalance of power between museums in the Global North and cultures of the Global South. Without great amounts of public pressure, these museums are allowed to refuse a repatriation of culturally significant objects. Moreover, we are invited to reap the educational and creative benefits by viewing these artifacts obtained through past looting without contending with the past and present injustice that brought these items before us. CONTINUED AT
In 2025, political moderates are a marginalized class in American politics. Over the course of the last 20 years, amid rising polarization, there has been a bipartisan commitment toward raising a new generation of radicals, something that — as a lifelong moderate — doesn’t sit right with me. Calling yourself a Marxist or a fascist just doesn’t elicit the side-eye it used to, and at a time when democracy feels like it’s thinning, that has to change. Both the far-left and the far-right are far out. What we need is a moderate revolution, and we need it fast.
The start of President Donald Trump’s second term has only worsened this crisis, in which
Through his show, Fuentes demonstrates the worst of humanity. As he slouches and slithers in his seat, his boyish frame elicits a sense of pity, but his virulent bigotry invalidates even the faintest shred of sympathy. His aspirations are perverse, and his idea of utopia is incongruent with every part of America. Fuentes does not deserve a place in any prominent movement, and his prevalence in our politics is just as shameful as it is appalling.
But sadly, this onslaught of new Nazi voices isn’t sparing Washington, D.C. From leaked group chats to American flags overlaid with Nazi imagery, new controversies surrounding bigotry and racism in and around the current Republican government are raising valid concerns. They may call it edgy humor, but the rest of us aren’t laughing.
NICOLE POSES Opinion Cartoonist
It’s hard to fathom that former President Joe Biden — a moderate darling — was the Democratic nominee just a year ago, as a new wave of progressive characters seem poised to rip the party away from the wrinkled and tired grips of the old guard. Take, for example, Hasan Piker, the streaming socialist who has become the predominant leftwing voice in a hyper-conservative “manosphere.”
In just four years his voice has become one of the loudest on the left as he has become a sort of godfather to America’s young progressive movement — giving his blessing and granting endorsements to candidates he deems worthy: from Rep. Alexandria Ocasio Cortez D-N.Y. to New York mayor-elect Zohran Mamdani, the city’s recent socialist phenom.
CONTINUED AT MICHIGANDAILY.COM
AUDRA WOEHLE Opinion Columnist
Matthew Prock/DAILY
Michigan in Color is The Michigan Daily’s section by and for People of Color.
In this space, we invite our contributors to be vulnerable and authentic about our experiences and the important issues in our world today.
Our work represents our identities in a way that is both unapologetic and creative. We are a community that reclaims our stories on our own terms.
For my mother
MADISON KANG MiC Columnist
Mushrooms. Fungus. Ick.
Every time I see a dish with mushrooms, I immediately turn myself away from it. The earthy, umami flavor has always rubbed me the wrong way. Combined with its rubbery texture, it’s always been off-putting, regardless of what form it’s cooked in.
Enter my mom’s mushroom pork stir fry. Sauteed with oyster sauce, soy sauce and sesame oil and combined with thin pork slices, the savory, nutty, seemingly perfect texture and thickness of the two paired together made a once-hated vegetable into a craveable dish.
The dish, in many ways, mirrors my relationship with her. Yes, growing up, my mom and I didn’t always get along; we clashed — about school, social life, college — but food brought us together in a way that almost no other conversation topic could.
As a pre-pubescent teen, my relationship with her was often unpleasant, distasteful and cold. For a period of time, it would seem like we could talk about nothing in peace, always butting heads even about the smallest things, from what clothes I was wearing to how long I was taking to eat my meals. Sometimes it seemed as though even my breathing would rub her the wrong way.
Coming from an uppermiddle-class background in the New York City suburbs, I admit I was definitely a spoiled child. Spoiled in the sense of being pampered with gifts, clothes that I wanted and lavish family vacations — but perhaps more significantly, I was spoiled with care. Each meal was elaborate and carefully curated, especially breakfast, which my mom would wake up to cook at around 6 a.m. every day before school. There was a never-ending variety of dishes: from cold dried tofu noodles with seaweed strips, eight-treasure congee, scallion pancake, tea eggs simmered
overnight in soy sauce, tea leaves, star anise, Sichuan peppercorns; to her own twist on avocado toast made with a croissant and tomato, onion and pepper salsa with homemade soy milk – I was always pleasantly surprised by whatever handcrafted delicacy was put in front of me.
Lunch was handcrafted with the same amount of care, either with leftovers from dinner or freshly made pasta, a meticulously crafted bento box, air fryer chicken wings or baozi, always with a side of fruit and dessert. While many of my friends suffered through barely edible school lunches, I always enjoyed my deliciously lavish, well-balanced homecooked meals. This was, ironically, a huge contrast to our actual relationship, which was oftentimes bitter, pungent and resentful.
Her constant nagging to study harder and encroachment on my already-limited free time and our opposing political standings strained our relationship, further exacerbated by the stressful and overly competitive school environment that I was in. Still, despite having our ups and downs and differences in perspectives, food offered a safe space. Almost analogous to a heated argument ending with a bowl of freshly cut fruit on my desk, the question “What do you want to eat for dinner?” or “What kinds of new recipes
do you want me to try out?” would mellow the environment and tone of an otherwise tense conversation centered around school, grades, social life or college.
This past weekend, my parents and sister (and my dog, Bambi) visited me in Ann Arbor. But what came with them was a hefty amount of food from my home in New Jersey, including frozen bags of my mom’s homemade pork and chive dumplings (neatly tucked into a cooler with ice) and a whole box of Korean pears and hand-picked apples from a local orchard, still individually wrapped in the foam net sleeves and packed with a fruit peeler. Chinese rice roll snacks, strawberry nougat crisps from a homemade bakery (further hand cut into smaller cubes) and, on top of all that, a greeting from my mom that started with a hug and a, “I’m sorry, I meant to bring you mochi donuts but forgot.”
Each carefully packed bag and neatly wrapped fruit was its own reminder of my mom’s love made tangible. While the “food as love” theme in immigrant households is often overdone, it’s one I can’t escape because my everchanging, volatile relationship with my mom has been deeply intertwined with our shared love language of food and food preparation.
CONTINUED AT MICHIGANDAILY.COM
We didn’t always live in fear; it was forced upon us by the environment of the authoritarian regime we lived in. My relationship with my roots was heavily influenced by my parents and their stories. The resistance grew in me as I got older and gained perspective on just how gruesome life was back home in Syria. I felt the responsibility to advocate for my people and to tell their stories so that their struggle wasn’t abandoned.
I sat with my mother, listening as she recalled her memories and stories from living under the Assad regime. She would go to school with the warnings from my grandmother lingering in her head: “Don’t act out in anger and never show them your hatred.” My grandmother didn’t have to remind her because every Syrian knew: “The walls
Beyond the bubble
When I return to Los Angeles for breaks, I rejoice over the views, the weather and the shopping malls. Most of all, I rejoice over my culture and community. During my last visit, I made it my goal to eat as much Chinese food as possible. From braised beef noodle soup to pork belly with preserved vegetables, I wolfed down each meal like it was my last. Unfortunately, LA has Ann Arbor beat when it comes to Chinese cuisine.
I live in the San Gabriel Valley, the largest ethnoburb in the United States that’s home to more than 500,000 Asian Americans, many of whom are Chinese. When most people think about Chinese communities within the U.S., their minds tend to wander over to Chinatowns. Yet, we have our own little “Chinatown” in the suburbs where we support vendors at Asian-inspired night markets and cheer on lion dancers at Lunar New Year festivals.
I was raised in four languages: English, Mandarin, Cantonese and Taiwanese. As the daughter of immigrants from Hong Kong and Taiwan, it felt natural to learn their mother tongues. When I replay old video footage, I hear my grandparents conversing with toddler me in various languages, teaching me small phrases here and there. Being multilingual has gifted me the ability to converse with locals in my parents’ home countries, watch CDramas without subtitles and, most importantly, pass my AP Chinese exam (though I may or may not have guessed my way through the cultural presentation). This was my normal, as it was for many of my peers as well.
The city I live in, San Marino, has a 68.9% Asian population. Again, most of us are Chinese, and the majority of my Chinese
classmates were first- or secondgeneration Asian Americans. We ordered at restaurants in “Chinglish” and attended our local Chinese school (which was really more of a daycare where we begrudgingly learned pinyin before sprinting to recess).
In a country where we were supposed to be a minority, we actually comprised the majority. While these experiences allowed us to develop meaningful connections to our culture, they also desensitized us to the real world. The reality is, systemic racism is real. That statement seems obvious, but due to the specific circumstances of my upbringing in San Marino, I had the privilege of rarely worrying about discrimination based on my race.
I am not saying that no one in the San Gabriel Valley experienced sinophobia. People certainly did, especially the early immigrants who settled here while it was still a majoritywhite region. The San Gabriel Valley emerged as an ethnoburb following Chinese migration into Monterey Park post-World War II, but these movements were often met with xenophobic sentiments from white residents who posted racist signs and supported “slow-growth” policies. For those of us born in the 2000s, however, racism was significantly less widespread because of the demographics of our area. Sure, we learned about the Chinese Exclusion Act in class and saw “dog eater” jokes on online platforms, but these issues often seemed far removed from our community.
It wasn’t until the COVID19 pandemic that racism began affecting us in a way that couldn’t be ignored. All of a sudden, there were news broadcasts about hate crimes, “Stop Asian Hate” posters on walls and a mural at Westfield Santa Anita honoring Chinese American history (it is worth noting that Westfield Santa Anita is in Arcadia, a city
Our pain-tarnished memories
are listening, so speak carefully.”
Even within your own home, you couldn’t guarantee that you weren’t being listened to. There was no trust in Syria, and that was what the Assad regime wanted — for families to turn on each other, for friends to snitch to save themselves and for communities to live in fear of their own shadows. While my parents miss Syria and are proud of their Syrian identity, their memories are haunted by the paranoia that constantly surrounded them. The mundane daily routine now had high risks. Small talk became stressful, and people felt the absence of connection.
A man walks into the butcher shop to pick up his meat order, casually making small talk with the butcher. “Oh, these prices are insane; we can’t afford anything anymore.”
That comment, which would appear normal in most other
countries, cost that man his life.
The butcher was an informant for the Syrian Military Intelligence, more commonly known as the Mukhabaraat, which notoriously worked to detain Syrians who opposed or criticized the Assad regime. Syrians who aided the Mukhabaraat were paid or promised protection in exchange for snitching on their fellow citizens. This corrupt system created a cycle of destruction amongst the people, many of whom began to live in fear even within their own homes. Anyone could be a possible informant, including family members, friends or a cashier at the grocery store. Nobody could be trusted.
From school curricula to propaganda posters, the rhetoric of the regime had infiltrated every part of Syrian life. This propaganda existed with the older generations under Hafez al-Assad, military officer and former president of Syria,
and continued with younger generations under Bashar al-Assad, the president of Syria at the time. Students were tested on their ability to remember famous sayings of the Assad family and other propaganda campaigns that idolized the Assad family were pushed out by the regime. Syrians were forced to praise the Assad regime and to never speak ill of it, regardless of its many faults.
She sat on the sidewalk playing with the rocks when suddenly, she looked up and saw a poster hanging on the wall. The wind was blowing, and the banner fluttered where it hung. With childish innocence, my mother picked up a stick and went to play with the banner, swinging a corner of it as it blew in the air. A man suddenly appeared behind her, scolding: “No, my dear, don’t swing that banner. That is our great president, Hafez al-Assad. We must show respect.” Frightened by the
stranger speaking to her, my mother quickly ran back home, explaining to my grandmother what had just transpired, to which she was scolded. “You idiot! Are you trying to get us killed?”
My mother often tells me this story, chuckling, but I know that deep inside, it scared her. She absorbed the paranoia that was controlling her community as a young child. Because she had experienced that heartdropping moment, she finally understood why people were so fearful — at every moment, people were being watched, surveilled, put in line when they were deemed outside of it, even if they were only a child and didn’t know any better. There was no room for mistakes. That discipline was drilled into people from a young age because it was a matter of life or death. Even if you disagreed with the regime, everyone knew that wasn’t a
that is now largely populated by Asians but once held a Japanese internment camp). There were extensive conversations about the implications of blaming Chinese individuals for the virus and how this sinophobia even extended to other ethnicities mistaken for being Chinese. Hearing accounts of both verbal and physical attacks on my community was jarring, especially when some of them took place in the San Gabriel Valley, an area initially assumed to be safe from these assaults because of its heavy concentration of Asian residents. I began questioning my own sense of security, and I watched helplessly as my parents attempted to hide their anxiety. When the pandemic ended, it felt as if the world forgot — but we didn’t.
Moving to Michigan was the second event that opened my eyes to the reality of being a minority. The 70% Asian population in San Marino became about 20% in the University of Michigan, a number that seems high to some but was unimaginably low to me. For the first time, I found myself physically searching for other Asian students, wondering whether they shared my sentiments. I was further disappointed when an upperclassman in the Chinese Student Association told me he had tried every Chinese restaurant in Ann Arbor, and none of them were good. I remember ecstatically calling my hometown friend about finally going to 168 Asian Mart in Detroit, to which she laughed and said the closest one to her was five minutes away. Yet, the trivial and once familiar experience of buying guava candy and GGE wheat crackers had temporarily become foreign to me. I felt physically and emotionally distant from Los Angeles, homesick.
CONTINUED AT MICHIGANDAILY.COM
topic casually discussed. You didn’t rant to your friends about your struggles or complain about life in any way.
Yet, people still found ways to resist in simple acts. While the world had forgotten about the Syrian people and their struggle, believing it was just another civil war with no ending, Syrians found outlets for their pain and suffering: TV shows that made fun of the regime, folklore that reminded them of their resilience and most importantly, patience. When the world gave up on them, believing the civil war was a lost cause, Syrians remained steadfast, knowing that their day of justice would come-and it finally did.
The joy of the Syrian people at the fall of the Assad regime truly cannot be described. A people that had become accustomed to living in fear and struggle finally had the opportunity to experience happiness.
CONTINUED AT
CAMILLE TAI MiC Columnist
KINANA ABDALLA MiC Columnist
Hailey Kim/ DAILY
Lauren Hahn/MiC
It’s time to retire the performative male
SARA WONG MiC Managing Editor
A male friend of mine once asked me what the secret to getting girls is. I took one glance at his tote bag from his hometown’s public library, the film camera inside, the taro bubble tea on the table and the tickets we had to hear Ocean Vuong read an excerpt of his new novel. “Just say you listen to Clairo,” I said, “and you’re already halfway there.”
Though the terminology did not exist at the time, the archetype I was making fun of was clear — the performative male, a man who adopts the aesthetics, hobbies and consumption habits typically associated with women and Queer people for the purpose of attracting more socially progressive women.
In 2025, a truly odd collection of things has become part of the performative male starter pack, such as drinking matcha, wearing tote bags, owning Labubus or other plush keychains, putting on nail polish, reading feminist literature or listening to female pop artists like Clairo, Laufey or Beabadoobee, to name a few.
Various major cities and universities, including the University of Michigan, have since held their own “performative male contests” in a similar format to the celebrity lookalike contests popularized in 2024. With all of the sudden buzz, it may seem as if this trend popped up overnight.
On Google search trends, the phrases “performative male” and “performative men” don’t have enough search data to be considered until mid-to-late July of this year.
When doing research for this article, I found text messages between a friend and me from May 12 in which I was making fun of the type of guy one of our mutual friends was always into: A “bicurious guy who drinks matcha” with a side of “performative Clairo.” Am I a trendsetter? Did I start the performative male trend?
Well, no. This archetype of man has been wreaking havoc
on the dating scene for as long as humans have gone through the song and dance of courting each other. I’m sure there’s an archaeological record somewhere of a caveman doing performative berry gathering. The poser, the nice guy, the male manipulator — there are countless predecessors and I’m sure there will be more successors.
The earliest nod to the performative male trend I could find was a TikTok series by Asian American content creator Dustin Vuong, where he begins each video by saying something along the lines of “POV: I manipulate women.” The first video was posted May 4 of this year, in which he says “POV: I manipulate women and say I’m bisexual,” takes a sip of an iced matcha latte and puts on “Sexy to Someone” by Clairo on his record player in quick succession. One of the top comments reads “performative Clairo” with a broken heart emoji, which seems to be where this “performative” language seeped into my daily vocabulary.
The model of gender I operate under is that all gender is performative, as established by feminist philosopher Judith Butler. With gender performativity, we can think of gender more like a verb, as opposed to a noun, coupled with both anxiety and joy. For example, if I put on makeup before an interview because I think it will help me be respected, that’s an act of performing femininity out of anxiety. But I also put on makeup when I’m lounging around at home because experimenting with the colors brings me genuine joy.
However, what interests me about the “performative” nature of this new, male archetype is that it isn’t fueled by anxiety nor joy, but malice and manipulation. It also seems to have emerged from my own communities — the Queer, the Asian American, the aggressively online.
Quick searches through the performative male tags on any social media platform will show you that this archetype is overwhelmingly Asian. There are surface-level connections
Wong/MiC
between the consumption habits associated with the trend, like buying blind boxes or drinking matcha — and their East Asian countries of origin — but I think it’s much deeper than that.
Asian men, particularly East Asian men, have been emasculated and stereotypically associated with the feminine for decades. American masculinity has taken many different forms, but when I refer to masculinity beyond this point, I’ll be referring to the version of white American masculinity that was socially solidified as the ideal after World War II, a masculinity marked by access to white women (the only women considered to be women of any value at the time) and the ability to provide for said women and the creation of a nuclear family.
From the Page Act of 1875 to the Chinese Exclusion Act to Executive Order 9066 and more, labor and immigration laws barred Asian men from the jobs that provided any opportunity for upward mobility, leaving these groups to pick up the jobs that white men didn’t want, usually in service or cleaning. It’s where the Chinese laundromat stereotype comes from, among other service jobs we typically associate with Asian Americans. And while no state has ever exclusively targeted marriage between Asian men and white women, as interracial marriage between Black and white people was always the civil rights issue being targeted, prior to the landmark ruling in Loving v. Virginia, several states did specifically outlaw marriage between Asian men and white women.
What I’ve noticed from my cousins, peers, friends, former partners, media and so on is that as a result of being raised and existing in opposition to white American masculinity, which is evidently inaccessible, the Asian American men I grew up and currently exist around have always been more comfortable being associated with limited amounts of femininity.
CONTINUED AT MICHIGANDAILY.COM
I earned my place
NICOLETTE
BENNETT MiC Columnist
Confidence isn’t a crime. Yet, as a Black woman, it’s treated as one.
Throughout my 20 years of life, I’ve come to learn that being confident while Black makes some people uncomfortable, especially if you’re a woman.
One day, while talking to a non-Black University of Michigan alum about how I had gotten into the University of Michigan (out of state), University of California, Berkeley (out of state) and University of Illinois UrbanaChampaign, I mentioned not getting into some other top schools. They immediately responded with, “Good, you needed your confidence knocked down a little.” I’d be lying if I said I was surprised by this stance, but still. Oof.
The strong disdain for confident and smart Black women was made abundantly clear by people’s views on former Vice President Kamala Harris. Despite her achievements as the highest-ranked female in U.S. government history as vice president of the United States, in addition to her past service as a senator for California and attorney general of California, many people rushed to say she only got where she was because she’s Black or by being promiscuous. They questioned and criticized her qualifications as a result of her being both Black and a woman, revealing how the overlapping biases of racism and sexism — what Kimberlé Crenshaw, civil rights advocate and critical race theory scholar, describes as intersectionality — create unique forms of discrimination faced by Black women.
Then, when people weren’t able to discredit Harris’ former government positions and historical accomplishments, they began to take away her Blackness by claiming she was lying about her race. For some reason, it’s impossible for some people to conceptualize an intelligent Black woman being successful and having all those achievements. This reaction isn’t new. It’s a reflection of the bigger problem with how people treat proud, successful Black women.
Recently, while talking to some classmates, I mentioned being extremely happy with my score on our test after studying very hard and going to office hours. My male classmates snickered, and two quickly responded with, “I barely studied and got an A.” So, because you don’t celebrate every win, that means I shouldn’t either? It’s wild how quickly some people try to humble Black women the moment they express pride in their accomplishments and acknowledge their intelligence.
The next week, I heard one of the classmates from that same group mention how he got an A on an exam in a different class after studying really hard by himself and watching every lecture. The other classmates all congratulated him and mentioned how important As are in college, no matter what the subject. What’s with the double standard? Why is it cool when he celebrates, but not me? I will go to my grave believing this happens because stereotypes and systemic biases frame Black women through a distorted and unequal lens. People have been conditioned to see Black women’s confidence as defiance rather than self-assurance, and their strength as hostility rather than resilience. These
perceptions are connected to a long history of exclusion, one where Black women were left out of the women’s suffrage movement. As Malcolm X once said, “the most disrespected person in America is the Black woman.” This is something that has stood the test of time and is proven on a daily basis. The legacy of racism and sexism means that Black women’s ambitions, pride and selfexpression aren’t viewed as a virtue. The double standard is exhausting — but despite this, Black women continue to rise, lead and shine.
I didn’t just work hard to come to the University of Michigan. I fought my way here. I pushed through life-threatening health scares, exhaustion and people who tried to tell me I wasn’t enough. In spite of that, along with my Black peers, I’ve been told that I only got in because I’m Black, despite race being considered in admissions decisions being made illegal in 1996 for UC Berkeley and 2006 for the University of Michigan. I’ve also been told, “Oh, well, being Black probably made up for a lot,” after mentioning my struggles with math in high school and that I’m an out-ofstate student. … Girl, please. The person who said that was probably hoping imposter syndrome would convince me that they’re right and I’d start questioning myself and my qualifications. And that’s exactly how imposter syndrome sneaks up on people: by amplifying every comment, every look and every doubt cast on your abilities. But me?
I see the motivation behind their comments for what it is: bitterness.
I recall talking to a Black female freshman in the College of Engineering who spoke about not being sure she belonged at the University because she failed a few exams. I’ve always struggled to fully understand imposter syndrome. You worked hard to get to that spot. You earned this. Admissions officers or hiring committees saw your worth and potential, and chose YES. Why give others the power to make you doubt that? Why let a non-passing grade or someone’s haterade addiction define your value and invalidate years of hard work? The moment I realized that every comment trying to humble a Black woman is a reflection of their discomfort with her succeeding, was the moment any possibility of
imposter syndrome taking hold of me vanished.
I don’t fully know where my confidence and selfassuredness comes from. I didn’t consciously build it and I don’t wake up each morning doing affirmations in the mirror. I think it comes from looking at things through an objective lens and removing the emotional weight people attach to failure. When I take emotions out of a situation and just look at the facts, everything feels clear. I know what I’ve accomplished, what I’ve worked for and what areas I can grow in. The academic culture shock at the University is real, especially for students who came from schools where they were used to getting straight As. But that shock doesn’t have to define you. Imperfection doesn’t mean you don’t belong; it means you’re human. Confidence isn’t arrogance. It’s the product of hard work, resilience and self-belief. When people call Black women arrogant for being self-assured or smirk and whisper when they share an unpopular opinion in class discussions, I simultaneously roll my eyes and laugh. They want us to notice and go quiet. Nice try. As the “Victorious” characters would say: “5 Fingaz to the Face.” If belief in intelligence and ability makes someone arrogant, then so be it. It’s better to be arrogant than apologetic for being a Black woman existing with intelligence, opportunities and success.
I choose to live by two quotes: “The worst they can say is no,” and, “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.” That mindset has carried me far through many decisions. If I see a job I want, I apply. If I find a club I’m interested in, I join. If I want an executive board position, I run for it. Being a self-assured Black woman isn’t a crime, even if the world treats it like it is. To every student, especially the Black women who question if they deserve to take up space here: You do. You earned your seat in that classroom, your spot in that organization and your place on campus. Your existence here isn’t an accident; it’s an achievement. You don’t have to be perfect to be worthy. You are already enough. So when someone says otherwise, don’t waver. Don’t back down. Hold your ground and stand taller.
Sara
If you can’t bring yourself to touch grass, at least touch rocks. I was always a “rocks and minerals” kid. I remember filling up little velveteen bags of rocks in gift shops. I used to carry around a glossy-paged manual of rocks and minerals. I have even stopped the car along the highway to look for a good rock. I grew up in Indiana, a state that isn’t famous for any specific natural beauty except its limestone and caves. Rocks became a convenient way to hold a little bit of nature in my tiny hands when I couldn’t see it all around me. Sometimes, rocks were a way to take a little bit of nature with me wherever I went. If you also grew up in a nonMichigan Midwestern state, you might recall those ads that used to run on TV, touting the wonders of “Pure Michigan.” The soothing music and the sturdy voiceover fully convinced my childhood brain that Michigan was the place where people live on the water near lighthouses and perfect fall foliage. I thought Michigan was outdoorsy and posh. I thought everyone thought that. Sometimes my parents would drive my sister and me to Michigan, so we could see what the beaches and sand dunes looked like on the other side of the lake. At the end of a beach adventure, I always came home with rocks.
I didn’t think my love of rocks was unique at all. A friend’s mom once commented that he “always came home with rocks in his pockets,” and then asserted that it was a “sign of a gifted child.” Fair enough. It felt like everyone loved rocks back then. But, and I ask this in all sincerity, what the fuck happened? It feels like everyone’s love for rocks has dissipated. When was the last time you went looking for cool rock? Do you even know the names of any rocks? Sure, I know geologists do, but us non-geologists need to keep the curiosity alive, too. So I set out to ask the University of Michigan student body about rocks, and I knew there was one rock in particular they could probably identify. I specifically wanted to know: Do Michigan students know that the state stone is the Petoskey stone? Does knowing this make them feel more connected to the state? What does make them feel connected to the state, if anything? What makes U-M students feel like Michiganders?
For those of you who do not already know, Petoskey stones are combination rock-fossils built from rugose coral, Hexagonaria percarinata, in limestone. That coral was in a giant reef during the Devonian period 350 million years ago, and it was rolled out of the bedrock during subsequent glaciation in what is now the Great Lakes region. The name “Petoskey”
comes from Ottawa Chief Biidassige, on whose people’s lands many such stones were found. In 1965, the state officially canonized the Petoskey stone as the state stone in a special ceremony with Bidassige’s granddaughter, Ella Jane Petoskey, in attendance. It was only in 1969 that a geologist at the University, Edwin C. Stumm, formally determined that Petoskey stones are hardly even stones, because they are, in fact, fossils.
In short, the whole history of Michigan and the world that preceded it is encapsulated in the Petoskey stone. When you find a Petoskey stone, your lifetime is but a blink in the eye of that Hexagonaria percarinata. Before there was even dry land, let alone a state called Michigan, there were Petoskey stones growing, living, beginning to form.
When I began my conversations with the University student body about rocks, I honestly didn’t have very high expectations. My bad!
I shouldn’t have underestimated that the overall love for Michigan and its rocks was real.
I had initially planned to stand out on the Diag and solicit stone facts from willing passersby. I still spent a lot of time on the Diag, but it’s been unseasonably cold this November, so I ended up walking around Central Campus in an attempt to keep warm. I asked people in the Shapiro Undergraduate Library. I asked people outside the University of Michigan Museum of Art and on the steps of Angell Hall. In retrospect, this probably got me a much more representative sample: Instead of writing up a sign about Michigan rocks and attracting the most rock-loving respondents, I was quizzing random pedestrians. Did I feel annoying? Yes. But were people shockingly excited to talk about Petoskey stones? Surprisingly, also yes.
Overwhelmingly, people knew the state stone. In the rare case that they didn’t know the state stone off the top of their head, about half had their memory jogged when I pulled five rocks out of my pocket.
“From these five, can you guess which one is the state stone?” At that point, they would usually say something along the lines of,
“Well, I’m guessing it’s this one, because I know that’s a Petoskey stone.” Of course, some people really had no idea. In which case, they got a chance to see a cool new rock and learn a little bit more about Michigan.
School spirit was certainly high in these conversations.
From international students to Michigan natives, people told me they feel like a Michigander because they love the University. Ashley Dixon, a Business graduate student and proud Michigander, explained in an interview with The Michigan Daily that Michigan would always be her home, even if she was living somewhere else. CONTINUED AT MICHIGANDAILY.COM
OUMMU KABBA Statement Columnist
There’s only one thing you need to bring to a storytelling meeting for The Statement — a really good idea. A really good idea is something topical, something unique. You need to pluck the idea when it’s ripe and juicy. You must capture the idea when everyone on campus is talking about it but no one has had the chance to put pen to paper. A really good idea makes you shoot your hand up when asked who wants to pitch first. And the best ideas make you think to yourself: How has no one else thought of this?
The problem is, someone already has.
New art is squeezed from the pulp of old ideas — as someone else has probably already said.
In today’s age, it feels impossible to think up a really good story to tell when all the great stories have already been told and retold and retold again. The drought of originality seems to have become so severe that modern art has switched its focus from creation to adaptation. We see it everywhere. Book into movie into play into Saturday Night Live sketch into concept album into worse movie. It seems that there is nothing left to say that someone else hasn’t already said.
I should know. As I was thinking up a pitch for this upcoming
written about a ton of times. Even this idea, about how there are no more original ideas, already exists and centers Disney’s love for remakes, sequels and threequels.
All my potential really good ideas were spoiled: browning, overripe, decayed, tossed in the bin. This isn’t to say that there is anything wrong with the aforementioned articles or that the quality of these articles experiences an exponential decay proportional to the number of times the topic is written about. There is no mathematical formula to determine what makes art good. That is part of the appeal. But perhaps there is one to determine what makes art necessary, with originality being the leading variable.
After a certain point, what if there are no more original stories left to tell? What if the world has reached a point where we have all the art we need?
***
Death to a prospective writer is the inevitable moment when you share a really good idea with someone and they respond with, “Oh, you know what that reminds me of …” As a creative writing major, the viability of my future career is based on my ability to create an original story. Through my exploration of different forms of storytelling — narrative nonfiction, short stories, playwriting, poetry — I’ve come to detest the inevitability of comparison. It feels cheap, like I just put a penny in the vending
media, we are seeing a rise of historical fiction with biopics — even on Broadway with shows like “Hamilton,” “Six” and “Oh, Mary!” People are essentially writing fan fiction about historical figures. That is how starved we are for original content.
Like Selena Gomez sang in “Love You Like a Love Song,” “Every beautiful thought’s been already sung.” I remember first hearing this line and marveling at how revolutionary and self-aware it was. But that was in 2011. Today, self-awareness of your lack of originality is trite and outdated. Now, you need to be self-aware that it is not original to simply be self-aware anymore. Where does it end? And how did it begin? It seems the world is trapped inside a nasty literary ouroboros. We can’t separate its head from its body from its thoughts from ours. Obviously, every great story is inspired by something — collages of life collected until they begin to speak to the artist. However, in the 21st century, it feels like the inspiration is always just someone else’s great story. But these great stories that keep getting retold have to have started somewhere. So, when examining the backstories of classic literature, will we finally rediscover how to think up an original, really good idea?
The answer is no. Harper Lee’s “To Kill a Mockingbird” was inspired by the 1931 Scottsboro Boys trial. “1984” by George Orwell
“Frankenstein” by Mary Shelley is literally “Frankenstein; or, the Modern Prometheus,” which directly attributes the novel to the ancient Greek myth of Prometheus. Even William Shakespeare’s groundbreaking play “Romeo and Juliet” — so timeless that it still holds a prime spot on every ninth graders’ English syllabus even more than 400 years later — was not an original idea. It is based on “The Tragical History Of Romeus And Juliet” by Arthur Brooke, a 1562 narrative poem written about three decades prior to the play’s release. But it doesn’t stop there — Brooke’s poem was a translation and adaptation of the 1559 French poem “Histoires Tragiques” by Pierre Boaistuau. Not done yet — Boaistuau’s poem was a translation and adaptation of the 1554 Italian novel “The Unfortunate Death of Two Most Wretched Lovers” by Matteo Bandello. Still going — Bandello’s novel was an adaptation of the 1530 Italian novel “Giulietta e Romeo: Historia novellamente ritrovata di due nobili amanti” by Luigi da Porto. And going — Porto’s novel was an adaptation of the 1476 story “Mariotto and Gianozza” by Masuccio Salernitano. Apparently, this literary ouroboros has existed for as long as literature has. And yet, all the works above are still acclaimed for their ingenuity, craft and narrative. No one considers these texts as less than simply because the idea wasn’t 100% born from
ANNA WHITNEY Statement Correspondent
Gabby Spagnuolo/DAILY
Tucked away in the middle of the woods and accessible only by Northern Michigan backroads lives a quintessential up north dive bar called The Hideaway. It’s big with snowmobilers in the winter — hence the dryer built in behind the bar for wet jackets — but The Hideaway is also busy year-round, in an up north kind of way. The inside is exactly how you’d imagine it — wood panel walls adorned with ATV and hunting paraphernalia, string lights crisscrossing on the ceiling, the smell of fried food hanging in the air and tables always a little bit sticky with spilled beer. It’s got a cozy feel to it, metallic well-water taste and all, and the mentality that anything goes reigns supreme: people wear whatever they want, drink whatever they want and say whatever they want, and everyone seems to have a good time.
This past Fall Break, I went up to the Mancelona area with a friend and some family to celebrate my 21st birthday. Naturally, The Hideaway was our first stop, and we hastily made our way there from the cabin to eat dinner and watch the Detroit Tigers play the Seattle Mariners. In a beautiful twist of fate, it was karaoke night, and we watched with glee as the makeshift DJ dimmed the lights and raised the sign-up sheet in the air. I’ve been going up north my entire life — to the point where I don’t even question how silly it sounds to non-Michiganders when I say “up north” like it’s a proper noun, a place to arrive at — and for the past 10 years, the Hideaway has been a summertime staple. Somehow, though, my family has always seemed to miss karaoke night, having seen the signs advertising it and wondering wistfully when it would be our turn to partake. Friday, Oct. 10, was
Hey! Sorry that you’re hearing this from a Statement article, but I definitely saw your text and forgot to respond. I’ll probably feel really guilty when I have to ask to borrow something from you or how you’re studying for our exam, and contemplate if it’s even appropriate to respond or acknowledge your last question, sent a week ago.
It’s an unfair excuse to say that I was just really busy, because I know you probably are too, and yet you still made the time to reach out to me in the first place. I know how much of an effort it is sometimes, and I hope it’s much easier for you than it is for me, so thank you. I’m grateful that you’re keeping in touch with me.
I’ll be honest, a lot of my inability to respond is an embarrassing amount of object impermanence.
It’s hard enough that digital things don’t have any tangibility, but if your notification disappears from the dock on the bottom of my phone, it’s gone from my mind. Sorry. More excuses, not actions. I want to tell you that this is the last time, but I’m still figuring out how to break the cycle, how to finally be more responsive. If I actually end up texting you when this change happens, that’s at least a little progress, right?
***
My biggest red flag, a social barrier that constantly plagues me, is that I’m a terrible texter.
An important distinction is that I’m not a bad texter because my responses are dry. I take the question
“How was your day?” very seriously and sacredly, as being able to instantaneously share who I ran into in the dining hall, what dessert I treated myself to and what music I’ve been overplaying to another person is a great privilege. I love being able to support my friends even when we can’t see each other: to be able to send a good-luck message with a string of flexing emojis to someone the morning of an exam and then debrief about it that night over $2 New York Pizza Depot pepperoni slices. I deeply value connection and caring for the people I love, and texting provides an incredible
STATEMENT
I love to remember the Edmund Fitzgerald
our lucky night, it seemed, and for the next seven hours, the five of us entered a fugue state, playing endless rounds of Nerts, watching the Tigers lose to the Mariners over 15 long innings and listening to an increasingly drunk handful of people try their hand at karaoke. Suddenly, the familiar hum of a 12-string guitar filled the air, and looking over the crowd in search of its source, we saw an old, mustached man dressed in all black and a cowboy hat fearlessly taking to the stage with a microphone. His song of choice? Gordon Lightfoot’s 1976 classic, “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.”
“That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed / When the gales of November came early,” the man sang, his voice deep and gravelly like an old country singer. He was wholly unfazed by any of the theatrical logistics of the “stage” he was performing on — a dance floor in the middle of the bar surrounded fully by tables, not unlike a gladiator’s arena. Throughout each of the song’s seven verses, this mysterious
opportunity to express this without having to be in the same place or even talking at the same time.
So why can’t I seem to do it?
I’m aware that it seems like a lie, to claim to care about something so deeply and still not be able to translate that into an action that often takes less than a minute, especially considering how quickly my thumbs move across the touchscreen that I’ve grown up using.
Creating this correlation between desire and concrete action is something I struggle with in other aspects of my life as well.
When given rare free time during a semester, it’s difficult to spend this on the hobbies and passions I want to — I usually default to something mindless to soothe my overworked brain. The thought of getting to write poems, return to the slouching paperbacks on my shelf or learn a newly released song on my guitar is what keeps me motivated to get through a grueling day. Once I have the time, though, I usually don’t do any of these, opting for the easy, mindless social media scroll that’s much kinder on the depleted mental resources I have: scrolling takes much less effort, though it is not my passion. Texting is even harder, because it’s a relatively unnatural form of communication. It’s only something we’ve been doing since the late 1990s, when a slower response time was inherent because of T9 typing. Even if we do our best to address all parts of the messages we are sent, the dynamism of an actual conversation is harder to achieve, where changing topics and responding to surroundings is experienced in real time.
As opposed to texting, when I’m talking with someone in person I do a lot less calculating of what I should say, and instead let the conversation go wherever we lead it. Once I start speaking, my message is instantly out there, instead of stuck in a dance of picking the perfect emojis and worrying over how many exclamation points to add.
As much as I crave boundaries, there is no delineation of what type of messages I have to respond to in my iMessage app. I find it much easier to respond to emails
cowboy held steadfast and serious, lost in his own world even as the rest of the bar sang along here and there. We giggled about this in the car afterward, remembering the way he sort of tipped his hat at the crowd in gratitude when the song was finished, but I was equally struck by what a beautiful moment it had been — and how emblematic of Michigan it was for this man to have picked out this song so proudly. The story of the Edmund Fitzgerald has always fascinated me. It was a freighter that sank in a terrible Lake Superior storm (the “gales of November”) Nov. 10, 1975, resulting in the loss of her 29 crew members’ lives. To this day, nobody really knows exactly why the Edmund Fitzgerald sank. It didn’t split in half or hit an iceberg like the Titanic; the Fitzgerald just fell prey to the might of Lake Superior, it seems, and fell to the bottom of the lake just 17 miles off-shore without so much as a “mayday” call. The following year, Canadian folk-rock singer Gordon Lightfoot released “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald,” a haunting
or messages in Slack, where I enter these apps with a specific action and goal in mind. I am there out of responsibility, for work, and there are tangible consequences if I don’t respond.
I’ve never had a different number for my “home,” “work” and “cellular” phones. Group project partners, my dearest friends, a slew of unsaved numbers from logistical group chats, my family, ex-crushes, the person I live with and anyone who receives an email with my work signature can all reach me at the same cellphone number.
Although it’s clear through contact names, photos and emojis who is closer to me, they all pile on top of each other in the intangible dimension of my phone’s lock screen.
It’s a blessing that the people I am so far away from are still just as reachable. But for all that it eats away at me, I’m barely doing anything to take advantage of this.
Two months after I graduated high school, my family moved away from my hometown. It hurts to be so far away from my hometown friends, knowing how valuable it is to physically be able to spend time with people I love.
The first time I visited my hometown, more than a year after moving away, was this summer. I had brunch with a friend who goes to New York University on my birthday, my first time seeing her since we graduated. I waited for her on the curb in front of our diner of choice, pen twitching across my journal page as I wrote down my anxieties about what it would be like to talk to her again, recording all the stores on that block that had been replaced since the move. When she turned the corner, she screeched and we jumped into each other’s arms, hopping a few times in a way that made our bags swing into each other’s backs. I hugged the soft cotton of the red top she wore to the awards dinner of our school music trip together senior year, and could barely do anything but babble about how nice it was to see her again. Before we could ask for a table inside, the host sitting in front of the windows joked, “Could you guys try to be a little more happy to see each other?” We had only had a total of three conversations throughout the year we’d been apart.
and hypnotic folk ballad recounting the night of the wreck in careful detail. Since then, both the story of the Edmund Fitzgerald and its song have become these iconic symbols of Michigan and the Great Lakes, recalling the quiet cruelty of Lake Superior and the way she never “gives up her dead,” paying tribute to the force of the waters around us in ways that send shivers down my spine.
“Does anyone know where the love of God goes / When the waves turn the minutes to hours?” Lightfoot sings.
I don’t remember the first time I was told about the Edmund Fitzgerald, or even the first time I heard Lightfoot’s song. Growing up in Michigan, it’s just the sort of story I’ve always known. I remember as a kid how, when the song would come on the radio every now and then, I would listen, enraptured, feeling the weight of this lore and the mystery surrounding it. I still feel this way now, and when this Hideaway karaoke scene happened to coincide with the season of the wreck’s 50th anniversary, I enjoyed returning
to this spooky feeling, lingering on the continued uncertainties of the ship’s demise. There’s something, too, about the way it’s a story collectively shared — if you’re from the Great Lakes region, chances are you’re already deeply familiar with the Edmund Fitzgerald, and if you’re not from around here, the captivating story almost serves as a tool for indoctrination into regional culture (yes, Lake Superior waves really can get close to 30 feet tall).
Cynics everywhere are quick to say that the United States has no culture — or that if we do, it’s dominated by the likes of greasy fast food chains and football games saturated with consumerism. This argument frustrates me for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is that it totally disregards the cultures of Indigenous groups that have lived on this land for thousands of years and aspects of cultures around the world that are brought in with immigrants. Schoolhouse Rock’s “The Great American Melting Pot” may be infamously flawed in the ways that it preaches assimilation, but the general idea of the U.S. as
a cultural patchwork still stands. Even outside of these populations, though, the U.S. does have culture, but it just might look a little less romantic than colorful Mayan huipiles in Guatemala or Munich’s Oktoberfest, for example. The U.S. is also such a huge country that culture and identity are so easily fragmented, and an overarching sense of “U.S. culture” is harder to define than regionally specific ones, like in Appalachia or the Deep South. In terms of cultural resonance, my heart lies with where I grew up and what I know best: the state of Michigan and the Great Lakes region. This state has a rich history of Indigenous storytelling that has given name to some of our most beloved landmarks, a plethora of regionally distinct foods (for better or for worse — see Midwestern “salads”) and dialects that unforgivingly distinguish Yoopers from trolls (one of my roommates from Marquette pronounces “bag” like the “a” is a suggestion and she’d much rather say “beg” instead). I love the feeling of community in hand maps and love for the Great Lakes, our pride and joy. I love that there is a song about a shipwreck from 50 years ago that is sung and revered across the whole state, unifying generations in an awestruck celebration of the stories that sustain us. But, more than this, or maybe because of this, I love to know that there are such tangible reminders of who I am and where I’m from, and that they’re enjoyed in the collective. I love to know that anytime “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” mysteriously surfaces in my Spotify queue, I’ll be called back to summers spent slipping beneath Lake Michigan waves or sitting on the rocky shoreline of Belle Isle and watching freighters drift past on the Detroit River.
CONTINUED AT MICHIGANDAILY.COM
Once we settled in our booth and started talking, I felt like I was in a discussion section I hadn’t done the reading for. When asking about her semester, I couldn’t name one class she had taken, one concert she had been to or whether or not her roommate finally broke up with the boyfriend she was arguing with back in October. She gladly filled me in on what she could, and eventually the nebulous questions like “How was your year?” winnowed down into sharing anecdotes about a Minions short film she analyzed for class and the strangest people she’s talked to in Central Park.
It’s hard to admit that texting, at least for the majority of my relationships, will not replace this. All of the details I knew about her when we went to school together — her classes, which teachers she liked, what shows she was watching and what performances she had coming up — are hard to replicate over text. In person, the translation from desire, wanting to have lunch with her or do something nice when she’s stressed, to action is more instantaneous. I have more resources to show her that I care, both because I can be there for
her in a physical way and because I know enough about her current life to actually be helpful.
I wish that texting could replicate this intimacy, bridge the distance between us and enable us to be as close as we were in high school. Pushing these high expectations onto disjointed messages makes it all the more stressful and less appealing to be texting all the time.
I hate the buffer when I do respond, those first few messages of exchange where we’re talking vaguely about our lives and how busy we are, rather than just getting to the details.
I’ll probably always be bad at responding consistently, but when I do reach out, I want those conversations to have substance and be meaningful. It helps manage the guilt about being an untimely texter, when the text conversations I do have are about the domestic moments that sparked joy.
As Annie Dillard writes, “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”
If I don’t know your days, I don’t know your life. Tell me all the small details.
So … it happened again. It’s been three days since I responded. I know I should apologize, because I am sorry that this is something I’ll probably never be completely timely about. Can we save all of that apologizing and formalities this time? Instead of using the few messages we’ll exchange before we both get busy again on saying vague statements about being busy, can I hear something about what you’ve been up to?
I’d much rather hear what you had for breakfast, give you space to complain about a deadline that’s hanging over your week, your plans for when that’s over. I had scrambled eggs and a yogurt parfait, like I always do when I haven’t slept in too late and my only option is a granola bar while I walk to class. I said I was going to be proactive about this paper, but the deadline is already tomorrow — but I really like the poem I’m writing about so it’s rewarding work. This weekend, I’m volunteering at a farm, and my friend is hosting a talent show for her birthday, but I have literally no clue what
KATIE LYNCH
Natasha Eliya/DAILY
Matthew Prock/DAILY
Led by Cuchran, Michigan defense stifles Ohio State from the ground up
Early in the first set, a powerful strike from Ohio State outside hitter Na’Vea Gauthier looked like it would be an easy kill for the Buckeyes. However, a dig that brought graduate libero Maddi Cuchran to the floor not only kept the Michigan volleyball team alive in the rally — it set up junior setter Morgan Burke to send the ball back across the net and force an Ohio State attack error.
Cuchran, a defensive staple for the Wolverines who is currently sixth in the Big Ten in digs, has appeared in every match for Michigan over the past three
seasons. Building her identity around reliability, Cuchran’s first-touch accuracy saves points and orchestrates the Wolverines’ defensive rhythm, allowing them to build from bottom to top, libero to setter, dig to transition. Nowhere was that put on display better than on Friday night.
“We talk about the importance of having a first touch,” Cuchran said. “So, like, that’s really important so I can set up my hitters and give them an opportunity.”
The second set further emphasized Cuchran’s value on the defensive end. Early in the frame, a blistering hit from Ohio State setter Mia Turman sent Cuchran to the far-right edge of
the court where she delivered a dig to Burke, setting up a strike for graduate outside hitter Allison Jacobs. Just moments later, a towering block from Gauthier forced Cuchran to the ground where she delivered a second fulleffort dig.
Even though Michigan ultimately lost the point, Cuchran’s back-to-back digs prolonged the exchange long enough for the Wolverines to push the Buckeyes deeper into the rally than they expected. The point didn’t land, but the message did: Cuchran would contest every ball, no matter the difficulty.
Throughout the match, Cuchran’s recovery time was nothing short of impressive.
No. 2 Michigan shut down offensively, loses 4-2 to No. 5 Penn State
STATE COLLEGE
— The No.
2 Michigan hockey team’s first impression of the No. 5 Penn State was its lackluster defense that made scoring goals feel easy Friday. However, the Nittany Lions were determined to prove the Wolverines wrong the next day, completely revamping its image as a group.
A key change in net for the Nittany Lions proved crucial for the bounce-back victory, supporting an aggressive offense that became too big an obstacle for the Wolverines to hurdle. After a culmination of these difficulties, Michigan (11-3 overall, 4-2 Big Ten) dropped a 4-2 loss to Penn State (10-4, 3-3), returning to Ann Arbor with yet another split series as it navigates Big Ten play.
The first period produced little excitement on the offensive end. Instead, Penn State rallied around its reignited flame with a solid performance from its goaltender Josh Fleming. Stopping Michigan’s early
advances, the Nittany Lions began to test freshman goaltender Jack Ivankovic with a peppering of shots. It was only a matter of time before Penn State broke the ice.
“Anytime you run into a hot goalie, obviously it’s gonna be a little bit harder to score,” junior defender Ben Robertson said.
“The offense didn’t come at first and then got a little frustrated… Credit to him. Just got to find ways to get more pucks and create more chaos and make it a little bit harder for him.”
Halfway through the second period, the Nittany Lions charged up the left side to enter the offensive zone. They connected a series of passes, ultimately taking a shot from the right side of the ice. Catching the rebound, Penn State found a crack in Ivankovic’s wall to strike first against the Wolverines.
And the Nittany Lions weren’t done after getting a taste of success against Michigan. With two minutes left of play in the period, Penn State converted once more, sniping a shot past Ivankovic’s left side to double
the lead. This time, it was the Wolverines in a state of panic, and much of the worry came from the lack of solutions.
Michigan didn’t play significantly different than most nights. The Wolverines caught up with their opponent to only be outshot 21-20. Plus, they were highly aggressive and had stints of complete control over the puck. But the Nittany Lions’ crucial change in net appeared to be the difference maker.
“I thought we played well enough to win,” Michigan coach Brandon Naurato said. “We had like, four or five posts. Their goalie was really good.”
After conceding seven goals as a team against the Wolverines yesterday, Penn State opted to give Fleming full reign over the crease over yesterday’s starter, Kevin Reidler. A tough night for Reidler echoed in the Nittany Lions’ play, calling for an elevated performance to shut down Michigan’s offense. And Fleming showed up big when Penn State needed him most.
CONTINUED AT MICHIGANDAILY.COM
Whether diving into the corner for a low dig or slipping behind the block to read a redirected ball, she covered the court with a controlled urgency that anchored Michigan’s defensive efforts. Even when faced with incredibly difficult balls, Cuchran strove to be the foundation for her team and refused to give ground.
“I try to go back to basics,” Cuchran said. “And just think about technique.”
Michigan’s success wasn’t just a result of Cuchran’s dig-heavy, ground-up defensive strategy. It worked from the top down as well, getting the entire roster involved.
With the second set tied 17-17, a strong first-touch block from
Demetrician softened an Ohio State strike just enough for redshirt freshman setter Camille Edwards to step in and feed Jacobs. Jacobs hammered the ball home for one of Michigan’s cleanest transitions of the night — a sequence made possible by the seamless connection between the block and the back row.
This same dynamic appeared again in the third set. A welltimed block from senior middle blocker Serena Nyambio reduced the ball’s speed, letting Cuchran square up for yet another textbook dig. That dig became a smooth pass to Edwards, who set up redshirt sophomore opposite hitter Sydney Schnichels for a decisive kill.
“Block plays a huge role in me being able to take the balls,” Cuchran said. “So when they’re getting good touches and setting up good blocks, I’m able to do that,”.
Throughout Friday night, that interplay of block slowing, libero reacting and setter transitioning defined Michigan’s identity. It wasn’t just defense for survival, it was defense with purpose, layering from top to bottom on some plays and bottom-up on others to challenge Ohio State on every play.
Behind their rock steady libero, the Wolverine’s defense was all over the court — leaving no room for the Buckeyes attack to form.
Michigan executes gameplan in statement win over Notre Dame, 93-54
DETROIT — After the No. 14 Michigan women’s basketball team opened the season with two blowout wins, its first ranked test laid ahead in the form of No. 18 Notre Dame. And even against a highly talented opponent Saturday, the Wolverines executed their gameplan flawlessly and dominated the contest.
The Wolverines (3-0) led the Fighting Irish (2-1) from the opening tip, keeping their energy high and executing their system in a 93-54 win.
“We had talked about being in the city of Detroit, our city and our state and everything Detroit stands for: blue collar, hard-working grit and toughness,” Wolverines coach Kim Barnes Arico said. “… We pride ourselves on being a hardworking team on the defensive end and we wanted to show that tonight.”
The Wolverines dominated the first few minutes, jumping out to a 7-0 lead and forcing an early timeout from the Notre Dame bench. The Irish punched back with two layups, but any momentum garnered was quickly erased by sophomore guard Syla Swords. After the Irish rescinded their lead to only one, Swords nailed back-to-back threes, the second one a ridiculous heat check to put Michigan up 17-10 after the first quarter.
The Wolverines were determined to contain Irish guard Hannah Hidalgo, the reigning ACC Player of the Week. As Hidalgo dove down the lane, she was usually met with three Michigan defenders. Notre Dame’s offensive leader was held to just three points in the first half.
As the Wolverines continued to contain Hidalgo throughout the second quarter, its own offense exploded for 29 points.
Maintaining its dominance inside, the Wolverines found
second-chance offense off the backs of offensive rebounds and controlled the Irish’s chances by cleaning up on the defensive end as well.
Midway through the second quarter after not one, but two offensive boards in the same possession, sophomore guard Mila Holloway found herself open at the top of the key and drained a wide-open 3-pointer, extending the Wolverines’ lead to 13. Michigan outrebounded the Irish 50-28 and its dominance inside set the tone for the whole game.
“We chart (rebounding) every practice,” Barnes Arico said. “We chart it every single day and we run for it at the end of every practice, whoever doesn’t block out.”
The Wolverines’ commitment to rebounding drove offense and — just like they have done all year — they headed into the half with the advantage in rebounding and the lead, 46-29. CONTINUED AT MICHIGANDAILY.COM
SportsMonday: Michigan’s offense isn’t sustainable and lacks accountability
During the bye week, the No. 18 Michigan football team pledged its focus on the passing game to help make things click. For three quarters against Northwestern, it worked.
Freshman quarterback Bryce Underwood had 283 passing yards while completing 18 passes on 24 attempts. Underwood’s favorite target in recent weeks, freshman wide receiver Andrew Marsh, also had more than 100 yards in the first half alone and was well on his way to the best single-game performance by a freshman receiver in program history.
Fingers can be pointed at Michigan’s youth, but Wolverines coach Sherrone Moore holds Underwood to a higher standard and doesn’t see him as a freshman quarterback. Moore often commends Underwood’s mentality in the face of adversity.
“I feel very strongly about his resiliency and how he plays and his no-flinch mentality,” Moore said Saturday. “For a young guy, it’s pretty special. … You look at the (passes) he made, there’s some dynamic plays in there, some dynamic plays. We just have to continue to take out those other ones. And we’ll help him do that as a staff, and put our arms around and make sure we do that as a group.”
Yes, Underwood did make some great passes despite the
But the final quarter exposed every single shortcoming from weeks prior, and nearly cost the Wolverines the game. And these faults can’t continue to happen if they want to accomplish their lofty goals.
turnovers. And yes, Underwood may have a head-strong mentality. But it won’t matter if the turnovers and reliance on the run game don’t get addressed. Underwood threw two interceptions, both of which were on routes across the center of the field where a defender was clearly in the way of the pass. The Wildcats scored 13 of their 22 points off turnovers and claimed the lead for the first time all game after the first interception. The Wolverines were driving efficiently down the field with just less than 10 minutes to go until the second interception interrupted all momentum. Additionally, on a fourthand-1, Underwood fumbled the handoff to junior running back Bryson Kuzdzal with just over four minutes remaining while his team was down. Two fumbles earlier in the game, one from a
clothesline tackle to Marsh in the backfield and another from a punt return, both led to field goals.
No FBS team in history against another FBS team has won while giving up five turnovers and having no takeaways themselves. Despite the odds, the Wolverines found a way to win. But the way they did isn’t sustainable.
“There’s things that we know from a decision making standpoint, fumbles happen, we’re going to take that as coaches, not on the players,” Moore said. “But at the end of day, we found a way to win, and that’s, that’s the most important piece.” Moore took ownership for the turnovers, but was still more relieved than anything about simply getting the win. The problem is, Michigan can’t afford to make those mistakes. The Wolverines are in a win-or-gohome situation every single week,
and when they play stronger opponents — namely the last game of the year against No. 1 Ohio State, or in the postseason if they make it — even one turnover can alter the course of the game.
Turnovers are something Michigan didn’t struggle with early on. The Wolverines were 10th in the nation in turnover margin entering Saturday’s matchup. Underwood threw his first interception in Week 3 against Central Michigan, but not again until Week 7 against Southern California. Later though, two red-zone turnovers against Purdue showcased a potential issue for Michigan to address in the bye week.
“We did a team ball security drill during the off week,” Wolverines offensive coordinator Chip Lindsey said Wednesday.
“We do ball security every week, but we did it as a unit, as a team.”
That clearly didn’t pay off. Five turnovers is the most since Michigan took on South Carolina in the 2018 Outback Bowl, and the last time it had more than that was six against Notre Dame in 2012. The Wolverines lost both games. Michigan relied on sophomore running back Jordan Marshall to get the job done the last two weeks and even Kuzdzal to seal the game against Northwestern. But that won’t be sustainable against every opponent. Michigan’s reliance on the run game and defense to make up for the pass games — and now turnovers — won’t last. The Wolverines’ have the Buckeyes still on the schedule and potentially other strong opponents in a College Football Playoff, and if they want to stand any chance against them to accomplish their goals, the improvements to their offense have to be far more drastic.
ZACH EDWARDS Managing Sports Editor
Ananya Kedia/DAILY
MAYA LALANI For The Daily
SOPHIE MATTHEWS Daily Sports Writer
NATE SCHRECK Daily Sports Writer
WOMEN’S BASKETBALL
Josh Sinha/DAILY
SportsWednesday
Walk ZVADA Off The
CWUCHTER Managing Sports Editor
HICAGO — Trailing Northwestern late in the fourth quarter, the No. 18 Michigan football team was down two strikes with two outs in Wrigley Field. The Wolverines had cornered themselves into a two-minute drill to win the game. And their two losses had already put their season on the precipice of irrelevance.
But in Michigan’s dire moment, senior kicker Dominic Zvada stepped up to the plate and delivered a gamewinning field goal. And after turning the ball over three times in the fourth quarter, the Wolverines (8-2 overall, 6-1 Big Ten) once again scraped by and carried their chance at the postseason into next week, outdoing Northwestern (6-4, 4-3) in a 24-22 win.
“I haven’t been a part of a five turnover game and won the game,” Michigan coach Sherrone Moore said.
“The last time Michigan had (five) was South Carolina in 2018 and we lost having five turnovers. So there’s things that we know from a decision making standpoint. … We’re going to take that as coaches, not on the players. But at the end of day, we found a way to win, and that’s the most important piece.”
The Wolverines’ three consecutive turnovers in the fourth quarter left them desperate to save the season.
Forcing a second straight threeand-out, Michigan was afforded the opportunity to keep it alive on what became the game-winning drive.
Starting at their own 37-yard line with just over two minutes on the clock, the Wolverines’ offense — and especially freshman quarterback Bryce Underwood — had to pay little remembrance to a thus-far
disastrous quarter in which the Wildcats clawed back.
The Wolverines carried a 21-6 lead into the third quarter. Then, Underwood — despite looking sharp for three quarters — was rattled with two interceptions. And on a critical fourth-and-1 the next drive, junior running back Bryson Kuzdzal fumbled the ball on the exchange.
“We got to fix it,” Moore said. “But that’s something that hasn’t been a huge piece to our game, so we got to just clean that up right now. … The people that feel the worst about those turnovers are the guys that had them.
So we’ll talk to them. We’ll continue to coach it. But again, the win is what we’re really proud about.”
Michigan’s first two turnovers, one in the second quarter and one in the third, each resulted in Northwestern field goals. The Wolverines’ offensive line struggled Saturday, with the lowlight coming in the form of freshman wide
receiver Andrew Marsh’s fumble on an end around, in which he was hit as he received the handoff 10 yards behind the line of scrimmage. Michigan’s special teams were also suboptimal and epitomized by a turnover, with junior wide receiver Semaj Morgan fumbling a punt return. For most of the game, Underwood and the passing attack looked revitalized to make up for those mistakes. Underwood and his favorite target, Marsh, both had career days, throwing for 280 yards and hauling in 189, respectively.
In the fourth quarter, however, Underwood became the problem. After Northwestern made the game 21-16, he threw an interception on third-and-9, putting the Wildcats 6 yards away from the lead.
On the their next possession, the Wolverines moved the ball 45 yards, all on the ground. But attempting the first pass of the drive, Underwood tried to
force a ball over the middle to graduate wide receiver Donaven McCulley, neglecting defensive back Robert Fitzgerald sitting right underneath the route.
“Just got a lot of things to work on, watch back on film to see why I read it wrong,” Underwood said. “But overall, just coming back next week, being better, not making the same mistakes.” Michigan still down only one point on its penultimate drive, Underwood resembled his first-half self. He connected with Marsh for another 45 yards. But, again undone by their own doing, Kuzdzal’s fourth-and-1 fumble gave Northwestern the ball back. So, it all came down to the final drive. Down in the count but not out, Underwood, Marsh and Kuzdzal all stepped up to keep the rally alive. Then, Zvada walked it off.
