Yale Wants You

Returning home to recruit new Yalies.

“So, where is Yale, anyways?” I straightened the collar of my blazer — a gesture I’ve always associated with professionalism — and cleared my throat. “Well, Yale’s in Connecticut. Or, New Haven, to clearly put it. Er, put it clearly. Which is about halfway between New York and Boston.” My audience, a group of about forty high-schoolers crammed into a tiny classroom that had been slapped with the label “Career Center,” appeared underwhelmed. I didn’t blame them; after two years away from my alma mater. . . Read more
Mina Kimes
Touch Me, Heal Me

Alternative medicine takes up residency in New Haven.

In the beige glow of an operating room at Yale- New Haven Hospital, doctors lean over the body of Ken Welch, a 61 year-old New Haven resident with colon cancer. Nurses, anesthesiologists, and assistants are present, aides to the invasive procedure. Among them is Claire Bessinger; and although she is not a medical practitioner, like the surgeons she is here to heal. The patient cannot speak for himself now, but before the surgery was scheduled, he asked Claire—his Reiki Master—to be present from pre-op to. . . Read more
Romy Drucker
Shots in the Dark

The studio of a man who makes violins.

Francis Morris is a violin maker who works out of his home office in Great Barrington, MA in the Berkshires. He creates, rents, repairs, and restores cellos, violins and violas.. . . Read more
Julie Brown Harwood
How we Hate

“Good tees are usually inappropriate or offensive,” Gritz wrote in an email.

With a powdered wig on his noggin and a grimace on his pretty little down-turned mouth, a lad in a blue football jersey glowers beneath a goalpost while, up ahead, a swaggering figure in crimson finery cradles the championship football! (With a Radcliffe girl on his arm, to boot!) The lad huffing helplessly beneath the goalpost, uniform emblazoned with a “Y,” is a Yale Man. This is Harvard’s championship poster for The Game of 1898, and, fifty years down the road, its design seemed stodgy.. . . Read more
Adriane Quinlan
Beneath the Beinecke

Hundreds of early editions of Whitman’s Leaves of Grass.

I stare at the hundreds of early editions of Leaves of Grass. Green spines and brown spines, all with gold-lettered titles rendered in plant-like tendrils, crowd the shelves for yards. I pull down one volume that includes Song of Myself, and find my favorite passage, section six: “A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands…” Quietly at first, I begin to read aloud. Soon self-conscious, I pause to see if anyone is near enough to hear me. No one is; I am. . . Read more
Emily Kopley
Table Tents au jus

“The Bourbon Reds, like the Black Spanish, Blue Slate, and Royal Palm, are heritage breeds… they are small birds, with a juicy texture and rich, complex flavors.”—YSFP, “Turkeys”

“The Bourbon Reds, like the Black Spanish, Blue Slate, and Royal Palm, are heritage breeds… they are small birds, with a juicy texture and rich, complex flavors.” —YSFP, “Turkeys” The Yale Sustainable Food Project, a new branch of Yale dining services, believes in good food, food that nourishes the finest minds of New England. From the fabled Berkeley test ovens to the sprawling basement kitchens of Commons, YSFP fertilizes a community in which the delectable pleasures of growing, cooking, and eating food are woven into. . . Read more
Jonny Dach
Unique New York

Yale Drama grads recreate their bright college years in Times Square.

Costumes that appear to have been filched from a Medieval Times theme restaurant are carefully laid out behind a postage stamp-sized stage. The audience waits patiently, toying with napkins and waiting for dinner to arrive, as the minutes tick away. Finally the house manager takes the stage to introduce the evening’s entertainment. He greets the audience informally and then offers the usual admonition to silence all cell phones: “The actors will kill you if you don’t turn them off.” After realizing that a few of. . . Read more
Summer Banks
A Grave Offense

Dissecting Yale’s history of grave-robbery unearths a shocking story.

Just past midnight over 180 years ago, the grave of 17 year-old Bathsheba Smith, the daughter of a West Haven farmer, was found dug up, the coffin broken into, and the body missing. Horrified, the citizens of West Haven immediately pointed angry fingers at nearby Yale Medical College. The next morning, on January 12, 1824, public outrage forced New Haven’s constable, Erastus Osborn, to lead a surprise search party into the medical school, then located on the corner of Grove and College Street where SSS. . . Read more
Ivy Wang