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My essential journey across America (please fund)
Dear Fellowship Committee,
This summer, I hope to hitchhike across the country, carrying with me only a pocket toothbrush, a bathing suit and a Glock .40 caliber gun. I chose this project for a number of personal and academic reasons.
B202, Or, How You Fit Five Children and One Mother into a Three Bedroom Apartment
In 6445 Greene St., Apt. B202—the 1,699 square-foot Philadelphia apartment that has housed my family for twenty five and a half years—my mother slept in what she called a medieval bedchamber. Actually, it was a mattress tucked into a wooden loft in the east corner of the family room, across from a Himalayan-size range of clean but unfolded laundry and a five-shelf bookcase overflowing with (among other things) Polly Pocket houses, Bionic Hulk action figures, and plastic parking garages. The bedchamber was perpendicular to the trapeze. If you extended your legs while swinging from the trapeze, you could touch a black-framed poster titled “Rainbow Shabbat” with your toes.
Yale College Theater, From a Tomato’s Perspective
I wanted to be in a play, which partly explains how I ended up surrounded by scattered bits of Chex Mix and sticky tomato seeds on the floor of the JE Theater, wearing only a large red turtleneck, pretending to be dead.
Ladies and gentleman… er, just gentleman
This past July, the Yale College Council sent an email asking students to vote for a Fall Show comedian from a list of 22 men. Of these, 17 were white men. That’s CRAZY! On this wide-ranging list of potential funny people, there were zero women? YCC, what’s up? When I got the email, I was
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Lessons from Salta
One compelling reason people do Study Abroad programs is that they do not know a language well enough to live in and contribute to a city without studying its language. I did not think about how compelling this reason was when I signed up to go to Salta, Argentina. I had only taken Spanish in
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The social media spell
Grown-ups think that Facebook is the key to extraordinary success. They also understand nothing about Facebook. My grandfather, for instance, created a page to publicize his new book, but refused to add any friends. In the “About Me” section of my mom’s page (which she wanted for professional reasons), she wrote “Dear Friends, I do
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