If there’s one question that perfectly condensed the presidency of Donald Trump into a nutshell, it would be this: why? Head-scratching blunders, including the infamous “covfefe” tweet, are mixed with more pressing concerns like name-calling that increasingly erode the president’s credibility.

In the American open forum, we have a duty to ask why things are happening. For example, why would Trump tag members of his political consortium with names — including Sloppy Steve, Lyin’ Ted and Little Marco — recalling the worst days of middle school recess?

Rough-around-the-edges behavior is normal for Trump. So is the endless microscoping of his public and private life in the White House, which leads to another question:

Why is the Russia investigation still dominating our news cycle a year and some change after Donald Trump won the election?

Questions about Russian hacking, trolling and covert communications with Trump’s campaign team are as normal as burned tongues from McDonald’s coffee, and that’s saying something. The Russia investigation dominates talking points from the morning paper to the nightly debating circuit with Anderson Cooper. Hard to miss, no?

It’s also one of the most boring news topics in vogue. After school shootings, women’s marches, false missile alerts, immigration fights, government shutdowns and scandals over alleged affairs with porn stars, a slow-moving investigation about election meddling just won’t tickle the feet the same way.

The overall importance of this investigation should not be questioned. A foreign power attempted to interfere with the sanctity of American elections by a joint campaign of social media trolling and email hacking. Members of a presidential campaign repeatedly lied about contact with this foreign power, demonstrating contempt for the law and raising suspicions that there may be more than just an isolated Russia in play.

In the annals of history, the Russia investigation will attain the relevance of Watergate. The similarities are obvious — two presidents with a mean streak, a tendency to insult and lie, all culminating with coverups and illegal acts. Policy considerations based on Russia’s actions and Trump’s denials should remain at the forefront of conversation for a long time.

But the process is a snoozefest. The updates are incremental. Sometimes they falter in the spotlight of “information overload.” Amid every other scandal or poor decision by Mr. Trump, coverage of the Russia investigation adopts the mantle of an antique clock. Serviceable for now, and even interesting to look at from time to time, but its real value as a sellable antique will only be apparent later. The Russia investigation, additionally, suffers from a case of “too much boring Trump news” in the company of his flashier — and more entertaining — flaws.

Occasionally there are interesting developments. Michael Flynn’s resignation after a historically short three weeks as Trump’s national security advisor set off a chaotic White House staffing frenzy, replete with hirings and firings to the tune of “The Apprentice.”

James Comey’s sacking was certainly juicy, especially given the former FBI director’s role in Hillary Clinton’s trumped-up email fiasco. The legal hiccups involving Paul Manafort and George Papadopoulos, both former Trump campaign advisors, demonstrated to any impartial observer the depths presidential teams will go to gain an election advantage. (Indeed, Nixon may have company after all.)

If you actually thought ABC News anchor George Stephanopoulos pled guilty to charges of lying to the FBI about contacts with the Russians, don’t feel embarrassed. Wolf Blitzer over at CNN did too. In any case, it may have proven one of the more interesting parts of the Russia investigation. It’s almost a pity. Almost.

Written by: Nick Irvin — ntirvin@ucdavis.edu

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed by individual columnists belong to the columnists alone and do not necessarily indicate the views and opinions held by The California Aggie.

It’s self-defeating and disadvantageous — but we still count on it every time

It’s midterms week and grade curving is at the forefront of many students’ minds. It’s common after a difficult exam to hear the sigh of a spent student and their silent (or maybe noisy) plea to the grade gods: “I hope there’s a fat curve on that one.” Since coming to college, I’ve learned that some things aren’t to be questioned — and if one is on the good side of the arbitrary mathematical equation that determines pass and fail, the mouth is best kept shut.

But there’s a certain ridiculousness to grade curving that must be addressed. In our daily lives, we evaluate things at face value. Let’s say we go to Trader Joe’s to buy some strawberries for our morning oatmeal. In most of the cartons, 50 percent of the strawberries are rotten. In some of the cartons, close to 70 percent are moldy and inedible. As hungry students, we don’t decide to buy the strawberries that are half-spoiled; we choose not to buy them at all. But apparently, when this analogy is transferred to academics, it suddenly makes sense that the standard of the average is the standard overall. Grade-curving is self-defeating at best — and downright disadvantageous at worst.

It’s the students who lose at the end of the day. To future institutions of study as well as employers, it appears that we know much more than we do. Our consolation is that no one appears to know as much as they know. That’s not a really great way to go about life. This dilemma is even more pronounced to students who enter the workforce immediately and must recall skills and concepts from their degrees.

And while most of us are quite thankful to see our grades rise, it’s not without some internal conflict. Students are sincere by nature, and it bothers them when they do poorly — even if their grades are adjusted at the end of the term.

“You begin to feel very conflicted about your accomplishments in the classroom,” said Neha Pullabhotla, a second-year computer science major. “Part of you stops and evaluates if you deserve to pass, while the other part insists that you’ve worked very hard and deserve not to fail.”

Pullabhotla brings up a good point: Students now have the added mental stress of deciding whether they warrant the grades they get. It used to be the numbers that said it all. We aren’t defined by our grades, but they are good indications of mastery and progress.

No one is implying that grade curves be abolished. I for one have benefited many a time from them and would be sad to see them go. Instead, there needs to be a reevaluation from the two parties who issue grades — students as well as the professors and TAs who instruct them. The teaching staff must write realistic forms of assessment, and students must be willing to be challenged in ways they haven’t been before. If tests aren’t doable, professors lose out on opportunities to reemphasize important concepts. Students lose interest, and as a system we aren’t able to fill the gaps that are created.

I’ll employ another analogy to illustrate this point. If students are just learning their ABCs, the form of assessment shouldn’t be participation at the Scripps National Spelling Bee, but rather spelling out some words that are a level or two higher than what they’ve interacted with before. In exchange, students should be willing to think about information in a different and critical way — maybe even for the first time on an exam. A middle ground exists, but at present neither party seems to want to give in.

My fear is that students are settling for less in this current system. There isn’t really a chance to raise the bar higher and push the envelope when the prevailing attitude is that one only needs to be better than the peer next to them. That’s a despicably low and overall lazy standard. The goal of education is to learn and be curious. And students craning their necks to see if their score is better than their neighbor’s isn’t the type of curiosity I’m referring to.

Written by: Samvardhini Sridharan — smsridharan@ucdavis.edu

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed by individual columnists belong to the columnists alone and do not necessarily indicate the views and opinions held by The California Aggie.

It’s been over 20 years since Woody Allen was accused by Dylan Farrow, his then-seven-year-old adopted daughter, of sexual abuse. Although Allen was never charged and has vehemently rejected the notion that he molested her, Farrow, now 32, has penned several op-eds throughout the past few years reaffirming her initial claims.

Allen has made at least one movie almost every year since the allegations came out in 1992 — many of which have either been nominated for or won numerous awards. The Golden Globes, where countless actors denounced the suppression of female voices and mistreatment of women last month, handed him the Lifetime Achievement Award in 2012.

It’s becoming increasingly apparent, however, that Allen will not emerge from the #MeToo movement unscathed. Over the past few weeks, individuals in Hollywood have begun distancing themselves from the director; actors have expressed regret over working with him and Goodspeed Musicals, a theater in Connecticut, announced that, “in light of the current dialogue on sexual harassment and misconduct,” it’s cutting ties with his musical “Bullets over Broadway.”

Until now, the “Annie Hall” director had spent his career thriving on the insistence by actors, audiences and critics on “separating the art from the artist” — on letting each work of art stand independent of an artist’s personal life, isolated from the knowledge of his or her actions. To factor in this outside information would be disrespectful, unfair and obstructive to the impact and value of art.

But art springs from the inner thoughts and questions plaguing a creator’s mind. And in the case of Woody Allen, there’s no question that his personal life leaks into his scripts, regardless of Farrow’s allegations. His work displays a decades-long pattern of misogyny and uncomfortable meditations on male-female relationships, according to writer Richard Morgan, who pored over 56 boxes of Allen’s notes from the past 50 years. Characters pursue romantic interests despite striking age discrepancies — always a much-older man with a much-younger woman, often a teenager. And most recently, his overwhelmingly panned “Wonder Wheel” includes a love triangle between a stepmother and daughter, to whom the father “has an unnatural attachment.” This closely mimics Allen’s own very public, very controversial marriage with his ex-girlfriend’s adopted daughter Soon-Yi Previn, who was 19 when the director, 54 at the time, initiated the affair. As film critic A.O. Scott notes, “The principal subject of Woody Allen’s work has always been Woody Allen.”

Yet there’s still an illusion that art belongs to a sacred realm that dare not be touched by our thoughts on the artist’s real life — an air of transcendence that further gets extended to the creators themselves. After all, they’re artists — geniuses, even. They have an understanding of the world that only a select few can access. There’s an otherworldly quality to their artistry that makes up for, obscures or simply annuls their moral responsibilities.

But art is necessarily, irrevocably human. It’s sculpted, penned and played by human hands, formulated by human minds, directed through human lenses. Works of art might reflect something higher, something intrinsically beautiful, but they’re manmade reflections nonetheless. And though art is extraordinarily important to humanity and culture, it should never become so conflated that we allow its creators to slide by without facing their wrongdoings.

We don’t have to cut Woody Allen out of the history of cinema, just as we don’t have to deny the significance of Bill Cosby to comedy or Richard Wagner to opera. But we shouldn’t turn a blind eye to the messy, sometimes heartbreaking connection between art and artists, either.

When a transgressor is actively churning out works, the ethical solution is simple: stop supporting their art to inhibit future abuses. The repercussions should be stern and tangible, as with artists like Louis C.K. and Kevin Spacey. But what’s the right way to interact with art from the past that has been deemed irreplaceable yet controversial?

There’s no underlying rule that says we must constantly deify certain artists because their contributions have been pivotal to their fields. Ceasing to impulsively glorify Allen’s movies does not erase their influence; it merely signifies that our appreciation of art also takes into account the highly flawed mind behind the work. When viewed in this light, Allen’s films can be dissected with a conscious eye for the ways in which they’re unethical. And through this — because none of his films are “sacred” — critics and audiences might find that other filmmakers, those with purer voices and more respectable stories to tell, are more worthy of study and praise.

The era of #MeToo is one of ripping up the floorboards and revealing the sins of those who have frequently shaped our thinking — not to publicly castigate wrongdoers but to rebuild a more equal environment for creative expression. Artists, especially men, have been allowed to operate and maintain their legacies under the defense that they’re artistic geniuses whose art is too important to be marred by their transgressions — a flimsy excuse that no longer suffices.

Written by: Taryn DeOilers — tldeoilers@ucdavis.edu

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed by individual columnists belong to the columnists alone and do not necessarily indicate the views and opinions held by The California Aggie.

Menstruation continues to be a taboo topic — yet it’s central to women’s lives

We’ve all heard of “the little red friend,” “shark week,” “lady business” — but why do we shy away from properly addressing menstruation? After all, it occurs in approximately half of the world’s population. Despite our forward-thinking, incredibly liberal era, few are comfortable with speaking openly about periods. Society continues to enforce the misconception that menstruation makes a woman dirty, unclean or shameful, when in reality menstruation is a natural occurrence that shouldn’t embarrass anyone.

A period is a constant, empowering reminder to women that we reserve the potential to grow life. It’s therefore something that should be celebrated and appreciated as a natural and perhaps even powerful phenomenon.

I first began to reflect upon the deep-rooted misogyny of period stigma when I read about Instagram’s involvement in suppressing the expression of Rupi Kaur. Kaur is now recognized as one of the most influential, feminist, inspiring and talented poets today. In her poetry and photography, she delves deep beneath the surface of societal constraints placed on women, specifically minority women, in order to fight them. Almost three years ago, when Kaur posted a picture that happened to include her pants dotted with a smudge of period blood, Instagram removed the photo twice, inciting the young poet to publish a Facebook post that went viral. Thus, the menstrual movement began with her words, “Their misogyny is leaking. We will not be censored.”

We can categorize the societal issues regarding menstruation acknowledgment into two sections: the significant psychological and health-related impacts on financially secure women predominantly in developed countries and the horrific plight of impoverished women throughout the world, especially in underdeveloped nations.

Periods can’t be understood without recognizing the plethora of menstrual health issues that can occur, ranging from severe period cramps to toxic shock syndrome, a fatal bacterial infection. But women are largely ignored when they are concerned about their menstrual health and speak out about any related pain. A survey conducted for Australian women found that 75 percent of women said period pain has affected their ability to work, but only 36 percent of these women approached an employer to speak openly about it.

Another study conducted in the U.S. determined that 77 percent of women felt like their period was something they simply had to put up with, and 74 percent said that men have an advantage due to their lack of menstruation. 84 percent reported feeling moody, yet the mood change offset by Premenstrual Syndrome (PMS) is something mocked constantly, with many people pinning a woman’s disposition onto PMS, thus inciting her to feel ashamed of her own emotions.

It’s also important to realize, before truly understanding the struggles of many international female populations, that menstrual products are not always accessible, affordable or acceptable in specific areas. To remain hygienic, the average woman needs to change her pad four times a day, and the average period lasts five days. But in Afghanistan, a single menstrual pad costs $4 USD, which bills up to $80 for one period and $960 for one year — almost one grand spent on menstruation alone. 62 percent of Afghani schoolgirls use torn cloth as pads, a very dangerous and unhygienic substitute. Schoolgirls in Kenya miss, on average, 4.9 days of school every month due to their periods, adding up to about 20 percent of the school year when compounded over 12 months.

In Nepal, many women are banished from places of worship, farms, kitchens and their own homes to live in a secluded hut without access to food or water for the duration of their cycle, sometimes leading to death. Japan holds onto the belief that women can’t be sushi chefs because their sense of taste is apparently affected by menstruation. And in Pakistan, sexual education is banned, depriving girls of the chance to learn about and understand their own periods. The list of absolutely unacceptable behavior toward women on their periods goes on and on.

Women should be treated with respect and care when menstruating, not scorned with disgust and thrown out of their homes. Periods don’t make a woman unfit to be touched or be near, and they certainly need to be talked about to appropriately educate young women. Currently, we’re living at the peak of the menstrual movement. Innumerable organizations dedicated to educating young women and donating menstrual products to those who can’t afford them are popping up throughout the world. One significant organization chapter is right on the UC Davis campus: PERIOD, an organization dedicated to destroying the stigma of periods and donating menstrual hygiene products to populations in need. Several companies and regions are allowing women to take days off of work due to period pain, and the World Bank is working toward keeping girls in school by improving their menstrual hygiene.

Why are we so afraid to allow women to feel comfortable, confident and proud of their periods? Menstruation should be defined by the power it gives women and celebrated as a key component of femininity and womanhood, never something to hide or feel ashamed about. This is the time to start conversations about menstruation, to speak openly about the struggles faced by menstruating women everywhere in order to find solutions to preserve the hygiene of every female inhabitant of our world. It’s time to start taking women seriously when they discuss their needs. After all, who knows more about a woman’s health and needs than the actual woman herself? Let’s give her a voice for once.

Written by: Akshita Gandra — agandra@ucdavis.edu

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed by individual columnists belong to the columnists alone and do not necessarily indicate the views and opinions held by The California Aggie.