Yale is lying to you. And it’s not just administration-Yale, it’s us-Yale. We’re all lying, together. We’re lying to
our friends, to our family and to the donors we thank every semester for that scholarship check. Worst of all, we’re lying to ourselves.
The lie gets retold daily, on the internet and in the dining halls, over drinks, in a casual text and in a drunken heart-to- heart. Here’s the lie: “spring semester.” As in, “I’m so gonna take that class spring semester” or “Yeah, can’t wait to take up that sick leadership position spring semester.” It’s sick, really. Calling the period from January to May “spring semes- ter” is something like referring to a play as “that thing where you clap and leave the theater”: true only when callously dis- regarding all the other, you know, shit that happens. In our case, it’s winter. Yeah, that’s right—“winter semester.” Yeah, I know I’m harshing your buzz, bro, but come on, does think- ing “well at least it’s spring semester” really make sludging through thigh-high puddles any easier? Didn’t think so. So
go ahead and buy yourself a happy lamp, cuz it’s gonna be a long winter.