Melany Perez

“I SAY THUNDER. YOU SAY COQS.”

A few days after returning from FOOT, I was reminded, yet again, of why I was so happy to be assigned to Berkeley College. For an hour or two at Yale UP — the first-year pep rally — I chanted, yelled and cheered as layups were made and ropes were tugged. It seemed almost inconceivable that just a few weeks earlier, Berkeley was nothing more than a name on my housing portal. 

But while my residential college already feels like home, that’s certainly not for Yale as a whole. There’s pitifully few opportunities for the entire undergraduate population to get together — we eat the same food, study in the same spots and live, more or less, the same life, but there seems to be no real commonality between myself and any other Yale student.

The past few post-election weeks have been especially taxing on that feeling of community. People I see everyday feel more like strangers than ever; politics has added yet another layer of divide to our conversations, leaving me with a feeling that there’s always something unsaid. 

But for a few hours on a chilly November Saturday, Yale is unified by one singular goal. Being in the crowd at Harvard Stadium is one of the few times where the entire college feels like it can finally agree on something. 25,000 people become suddenly unified by merch, traditions, chants and song, managing to remember — even if only for a few hours — that our fellow students are more than just strangers. 

My go-to read during college apps season was the “#At Home, At Yale” admissions blogs. The stories I read — memories about food adventures and ski trips — made me feel like I was home. Recently, I’ve noticed that when friends ask me where I’m headed, I’ll answer instinctively — “I’m going home.” But I don’t really mean it. Home should be a place where I feel connected to every stranger on the street, where I feel a sense of unconditional belonging. Yale hasn’t felt like that — with the notable exception of Yale UP. 

Sports have a way of creating surprisingly strong communities. Yelling “COQS” at the top of your lungs with a few dozen other overly enthusiastic freshmen is, believe it or not, an incredibly liberating and unifying experience. I assumed it’d be a one-time thing, but maybe Saturday will prove me wrong.