Yale Diaries Part Four

July 2, 2009
9:40 AM- Civil Rights Class
The past few days have been so tiring! Class is really fun and we have the most talkative and goofy teacher I’ve ever known- Dr. La Tosha Bruce, who punctuates her sentences by exclaiming “Ye-ah!” and who’s idea of an exclamatory phrase is “Oh, sugar!” Dr. Bruce is so amazing at what she does that, I kid you not, she received not less than two notes of adoration of her character written on her own chalkboard. The class is informative and everyone is encouraged to share their opinions and though we often get sidetracked on important subjects as the definition of pansexuality and the different types of weaves Beyonce wears, we’re always having fun- and, of course, learning.
So… Yale. (Hopefully I’ll have time to post pictures in this journal.) Yale is nothing like the college that I’m used to being on (Cal-Poly). First, this is not a campus. I don’t care what anyone calls it, this place is a town. Cars zoom past on the many streets, and buildings loom overhead, all of them looking like ancient cathedrals. It is possibly the oddest sensation ever when one walks into a three -hundred year old building, expecting only dust, to find elevators, computer equipment, and converse shoes.
As for our actual classrooms, our desks are creaky, wooden chairs with little, to-the-side half-desks that can barely support my notebook as I write this. Each of the desk’s surfaces are carved in with everything from initials enclosed in hearts to graduating years hovering beside the infamous Yale “Y” to bad messages concerning Harvard.
Love,
Bianca

PS. They are really mean to Harvard. They wrote PG-13 things… not nice.