Aileen Santiago
After long days downtown on Old Campus I always appreciate my bedroom in Pauli Murray, a cozy sanctuary in the suburbs of Sachem Street. After a 9 a.m. class followed by back-to-back lectures that steal away my lunch, and an average of 20,000 steps per day, falling back into the sky blue comforter and Amazon mattress pad feels like drifting on a cloud.
Among the many throw pillows my mom packed is my beloved Green-a-To-To, with his name proudly stitched on his green cotton coat. The pillow-shaped cat was a worthy purchase from the streets of Namdaemun, Korea in 2021. After successfully haggling, my mom presented my sister and I with one blue and one green matching Green-a-To-Tos. When I returned to the States, he got a prime spot on my mountain of stuffed animals, much to the chagrin of my sister, who I shared a bed with.
As a decently sized pillow, Green-a-To-To is as functional as he is cute. Throughout high school, he carried me through a bout of pneumonia, a rainy camping trip in Cape Cod and – of course – the college application process.
So, when I hastily packed for Yale, a day after I got back from a summer trip to South Korea, Green-a-To-To seemed like the most practical choice: a pillow that’s also a stuffed animal, a two-in-one.
I was correct, but beyond how I previously understood his functionality. When I return to my dorm, covered in dust from the stacks or chalk from Phelps Hall, his closed-eyed, sleepy smile greets me with a familiar embrace; my Green-a-To-To is a piece of home I can tangibly cling to, a comforting respite from overwhelming college life.
When I asked my friends if they brought a stuffed animal, many of them said yes! A friend interested in marine biology proudly presents her octopus, another friend gushes over her love of pigs.
For the few who didn’t pack a stuffed animal, a new group goal has supplied them with their own little friend. Whales of Yale, an Instagram account that holds a scavenger hunt for crochet whales hidden on campus, may have started posting a little over a week ago, but my FOOT group has made it our mission for all of us to get one. So far, we’ve gotten seven out of the eight whales. Some of us still haven’t gotten a whale, so watch out Yale! These whale watchers aren’t done yet.
There are few “practical” reasons to bring a stuffed animal. For those traveling more than four hours by car, you might have thought to utilize the space with more functional items: perhaps a desk fan — God knows you need it — or more command hooks — because why are they the most useful thing ever? For the students traveling by plane, you might have even laughed at the idea of filling your precious luggage space with a fluffy friend.
But for college students, a small item of luxury cannot be underestimated.
For the next few months, you’ll be one of the “locked-in,” headphone-wearing students in the ever-crowded Starr Memorial Library – or if you really hate yourself, holed up in Bass with a Vitamin D deficiency.
You’ll crack jokes about how the “Ivy League school is really Ivy League-ing” and maybe hit up the occasional Woads to feel something other than the clangor of silence in the Gilmore Music Library.
You’ll forget your umbrella the day it rains, because New Haven weather is so predictably unpredictable, and bomb a test you were so sure you fully prepared for.
For the next few months, a small slice of comfort can feed you until tomorrow. And the day after, and the day after that, and on and on and on.
Whether it’s a crusty little bunny you’ve had since you were a baby, or the 20th Squishmellow that you just had to get, your stuffed animal is a familiar friend that asks you for nothing more than a warm embrace and a memorable-yet-probably-not-very-creative name.
And although it’s a little silly, or maybe I’m just at a level of whimsy you cannot comprehend, I like to think they wait for us too.