Dear Good Samaritans

Last week, my scooter hit a hidden pothole when I cut through a puddle. I flew forward over my handlebars, hitting my face, hands, and knees on the ground. This is an open letter to the Good Samaritans of New Haven who picked me up.

To the three women who rushed over to my side the moment it happened: Though I could feel the blood rise in my cheeks (for multiple reasons!) and told you I was fine, you stayed by me regardless–helping me sit up, giving me your unopened water bottle to clean my wounds, showering me with paper towels, grabbing a nearby officer for help, offering to call Yale Health. Thank you for your urgency, and more importantly, your refusal to leave until I got help.

To the police officer at Beinecke Library: You hurried out with a giant first aid kit and told me to take anything I needed, anything at all. You didn’t blink as I stashed gauze and packets of antibiotic ointments into my pockets. You asked me, seriously, Are you okay? Because I have two daughters and as a father I just want you to be safe. Thank you for your paternal concern and your aid.

To my roommate who happened to be in the right place at the right time: You caught sight of me out of the corner of your eye. The next moment, you were by my side like an angel sent from the heavens, lifting me up, collecting my scattered belongings, righting my scooter. You immediately cancelled whatever plans you had for that day and walked me back to our dorm, telling me to rest, rest, rest, and kindly suggesting I visit Yale Health. Thank you for being there, for teaching me that love is putting another person’s needs in front of your own.

To the doctor and nurse at Yale Health: You made me feel so loved in your parental concern, clucking over me, gently chiding me. Your jokes made me feel better (some models pay millions for collagen lip injections but you got a swollen lip for free!). You assured my vanity that I would not scar if I took care of the wounds, and gave me handfuls of more ointment, medical masks, and ice packs. Thank you for your sound advice and reassurance.

To my friends: You insisted that I show you my wounds, so I took off my mask. You then insisted that I keep it off, that I am beautiful regardless, that there is nothing to hide. Instead of offering condolences you offered, I’ve seen worse, pulling up pictures of the time you smashed your face into a rock and got 17 stitches, but look at me now it’s like nothing ever happened! Indeed, there was only a small scar. I was oddly heartened by the story of your injury, and began to believe that I would quickly recover. Thank you for making me laugh through the pain.

Last Thursday, my face-to-face with pavement allowed me to experience an encounter with kindness. I have always depended on the kindness of strangers, writes Tennessee Williams, and I haven’t been let down yet.

First published on the Yale Admissions Website. To see more of my posts as a Yale Admissions Blogger, click here.

 

But First, (Sophomore) Brunch

SO you’ve heard about the First-Year Holiday Dinner, where blogger Logan literally gained the grain when he took home a giant loaf of bread. With ice sculptures and marching bands, mountains of lobsters and pasta, the first-year holiday dinner is probably the best thing that will ever happen to you… until you become a sophomore.

Because BOY OH BOY is the Sophomore Brunch so much better. (*full disclosure: brunch is my favorite Yale meal.) Yale Hospitality pulled out all the stops on this one, along with co-host Marvin Chun, our hugely popular and widely loved Dean of College (we even got a photo with him!). With baby blue tablecloths and geranium decorations, it felt like we were at a lovely elegant picnic where the sun smiled down on our delicious brunch.

A “Yale” ice sculpture welcomed us into the foyer. To the left, a fresh orange juicer (fresh OJ yass). At the center table, a FIVE FOOT CHOCOLATE FOUNTAIN(!) surrounded by fresh fruit. A plethora of pastries–muffins, brownies, tarts, scones, cinnamon rolls, you name it–covered the entirety of the 10-foot long table.

But that wasn’t all. In the corner was a giant “Yale” made of doughnuts, looming over AN ACTUAL DOUGHNUT MAKER MACHINE churning out fresh doughnuts and doughnut holes. Fried to a perfect crisp and powdered with sugar, these doughnuts were absolutely BLISS. No exaggeration. Seriously. Yale is out here giving Krispy Kreme and Dunkin Doughnuts a run for their money.

In the back, I noticed a mysterious tank of water for… wait for it… poaching eggs to order at the eggs benedict station. With smoked salmon, avocado, hollandaise and more toppings, we could customize our own eggs benedict. Dear Yale Hospitality: can we please have poached eggs every day? Please?

Or how about a 3D Pancake Printer in every dining hall? We gaped at the printer as it made a lemon ricotta pancake in the shape of a Y. Did Yale really have to flex on us that hard?!

And finally, my favorite station: a build-your-own pork bao station. The white buns sat in bamboo steamers next to a roasted pork, a variety of toppings (dried mushrooms, slices of cucumber, green onions) and Hoisin sauce. My tastebuds were in heaven. As an Asian American, I am constantly searching for tastes of home–and I unexpectedly found slices of it at Sophomore Brunch. Thanks, Dean Chun!

My friends and I ate until we could barely move. We were stuffed and happy in our food comas (though it didn’t bode well for our papers we had to write that afternoon). Massive thank you to Yale Hospitality for showing us that though we are no longer babied first-years, we have not been forgotten. Thank you for essentially saying to us, we love you a brunch!

First published on the Yale Admissions Website. To see more of my posts as a Yale Admissions Blogger, click here.

 

“Sonder” Behind-The-Scenes Part 1: Pre-Production, Vision, and Theater at Yale

Me and my co-star, stage manager, & director for “Winter’s Tale,” one of the three one-acts.

I have said it many times before, and I’ll say it again: there is MAGIC in seeing your words leap to life. It’s inexplicably wondrous to see something you create in the depths of your imagination crawl out of the darkness and into the light–in this case, the stage’s spotlight. Snappy dialogue, lush settings, lovable characters–all of this materializes through the work of talented directors, producers, cast and crew. In the past, I’ve had the honor of witnessing non-profit theater production organizations produce my one-acts across the country. But this semester at Yale, I won’t need a professional production company to bring my work to life.

All it takes to create theater at Yale is a little faith, trust, and pixie dust–and by pixie dust I mean a team of passionate students. To make art on campus, you do not have to be a Theater Studies Major or part of any particular student organization. Anyone can put up a production. Upon entering Yale, I took this to heart–I didn’t need years of experience or training to pursue my passion. So, last semester, I embarked on a journey to bring my dream to fruition: I wanted to put up a festival featuring three original one-acts in a production called Sonder.

It started with sending mass emails into the void, hoping for a response. I stalked Yale College Arts looking for students who previously worked on productions in stage managing, set design, lighting design, sound engineering, etc. I reached out to fellow artists and friends asking them if they would do me the honor of directing my one-acts. I sent messages to students of all backgrounds and artistic experience, emphasizing my goals for this production: to create a diverse production both in terms of race as well as experience. I also wanted to be transparent about the “behind-the-scenes” action–should an actor want to learn lighting design, I would gladly facilitate the learning process.

After a semester of team-building through countless meetings and emails, I finally had myself a crew–and a group of new and old friends. Their prior theater experience ranged from working in professional companies to absolutely nothing. One of my directors has never directed before–but her passion for the project and her personal connection to one particular character as an Asian American woman made her the right person for the job. Newcomers to lighting and sound design signed up, eager to learn from the experienced student mentors from the Undergraduate Production, a Yale support system for theatrical productions.

Now it was time to cast. Because there are so many shows year round, the Yale Drama Coalition (a student-run organization) holds four casting cycles–two in the fall and two in the spring. All the productions for a particular cycle will hold their auditions within the same weeks–actors can go out and audition to as many productions as they want. On Casting Day, the producers gather to negotiate actors and their schedules. Veni, vidi, vici: we had our cast.

The last step of this pre-production process was to apply for the Creative and Performing Arts Awards (CPA), which would determine our production budget and location (Yalies have access to more than 20 different performance spaces, including many housed within residential colleges). Students can also use CPA funds for dance shows, films, concerts, visual art projects, spoken word nights, and even literary publications. I wrote up my vision in a proposal and outlined my proposed budget to the CPA. Just last week, we got the news: with a $1,500 award, we’re officially scheduled for March 28-30 in the Cabaret in Grace Hopper College. Sonder is becoming real.

As rehearsals gear up, I am sure we will face exhausting late nights and scheduling nightmares and logistical challenges. But I also want to pause in the middle of the flurry and say that I am proud of the progress we have made so far. Our cast and crew feature over 70% students of color. Many of them have never done theater before. Our upcoming months speak of frustrating stumbles, but also new friendships and creative art. There is beauty in the possibility of our failure, and there is beauty in us trying anyway.

Cast and crew of “Fire Hazard,” one of the three one-acts.

Cast and crew of “Supermarket of Lost,” one of the three one-acts.

 

Poster for Sonder!

 

First published on the Yale Admissions Website. To see more of my posts as a Yale Admissions Blogger, click here.

“Let’s Grab a Meal!”: Yale’s Unique Meal Culture

After a few semesters absorbing Yale lingo, there’s one phrase I’ve found that pops up over and over again: “Let’s grab a meal.”

Though simple and mundane at first glance, these four words shine a light on something unique to Yale, and that we often take for granted. It speaks of a promise that must be reciprocated. It speaks of potential scheduling nightmares. But most importantly, it speaks of three of the best things in life combined into one: meaningful conversations, friends, and food.

Certain policies and attributes of Yale Dining have made meal culture a uniquely Yale thing. You see, unlike some colleges, Yale’s dining halls are not open 24/7. Rather, there are set times for breakfast, lunch, and dinner–times that our academic schedule usually avoids. Classes usually don’t meet during meal times. In particular, the 5-7pm dinner slot is almost always open on everyone’s schedules, which makes grabbing meals with friends one of the most convenient ways to catch up and socialize. Everyone has to eat, after all.

Dining, then, becomes an intentional, proactive undertaking. If my friend and I did not initiate grabbing meals together, we would hardly see each other at all, thanks to different worlds of extracurriculars and classes. Meals become a way to pull our orbits together, turning the necessary act of eating into a meaningful one-hour conversation where we fill each other in on our lives, laugh about how we tripped on the steps to Sterling Library, get into the age-old debate of which residential college is actually the best (Stiles for the win), and ponder our lives not just as Yale graduates but also our lives seventy years from now.

Meals are also a way to meet new people. Some clubs and student groups have started a tradition called Lunch Tag, where at the top of every week, pairs are assigned. They then grab a meal together, post a selfie on a Facebook group, and are entered into a drawing for prizes such as gift cards and Yale gear. There are so many wins in this situation I can’t even count: new friends, great food, AND a chance to win a gift card to Arethusa’s, the BEST ice cream store ever? Count me in.

Look! The Arethusa’s Ice Cream is as big as my face!

Meal culture can also feel like embarking on an adventure. Instead of one centralized location, Yalies have their pick of dining hall–that is, 14 residential college dining halls and one brand-new late-night location. Some of my friends like fellow blogger Logan have made it their goal to eat a meal (breakfast, lunch, and dinner) at every dining hall. Grabbing a meal with friends outside your residential college can definitely help you accomplish your dining hall crawl goals.

Cassandra on a lunch tag with a friend through Christian Union!

Sadly, Jin, two photos does not equal two more entries… but they’re fun regardless!

Negotiation about which dining hall to eat at is also a staple of Yale meal culture. There are many factors that go into these decisions: location, schedule, and most importantly, which dining hall reigns as king (again, Stiles: with our brick hearth oven producing freshly made pizzas and an amazing rotating grill for everything from pancakes to hamburgers, we are obviously superior). Take a look at a few of my “negotiations” below.

Even other colleges will admit–Stiles food is superior.

Only for the best of friends am I willing to compromise location…

Not all dining halls are created equal.

Sometimes, the weather makes up your mind for you.

 

Stiles dining hall wins. Every. Time. Look at our oven!!! Fresh pizza!

At the end of the day, food is life. And food is love, when we eat with friends we adore. I am grateful to nourish both my body and my soul every time we grab a meal.

And Yale food is amazing. Take a look at some snapshots below:

Okay, so Pauli Murray has a brick oven too… Courtesy of @ryaghzar on Instagram.

 

This is what I call fine dining. Courtesy of @sarahmaryanngeach on Instagram.

If you look closely, you can see the Y for Yale in the middle! Courtesy of @santiago_alverez on Instagram.

FOOD IS THE BEST. Courtesy of @camikeepseatingthings on Instagram.

Nothing like a balanced meal along with good conversations and great friends. Courtesy of @camikeepseatingthings on Instagram.

First published on the Yale Admissions Website. To see more of my posts as a Yale Admissions Blogger, click here.

 

 

 

Dear New Haven: Sincerely, a Californian

Dear New Haven,

As I write this, you are gloriously beautiful from my vantage point in my common room. The sun is shining, basking towers in its golden glow; the skies are clear blue, not a single cloud in sight. It’s hard to believe that last night, your snow blizzard raged on behind the very same windows, obscuring everything in sight. It’s even harder to believe that despite the appearances of a warm sunny day, it is currently 8 degrees outside.

I know living here is nothing to those who just suffered through the polar vortex in the midwest, where it was briefly colder than Antarctica. But you have to understand–I am a Californian, through and through. I was born in Malaysia (located near the equator) and lived in Southern California for the majority of my life. This body is not built to withstand your bitter winds that tear at my face or your intense walls of rain that drench me from head to toe. Before leaving home for college, I was petrified at the thought of living here, on the East Coast.

Yet, I chose to spend the next four years of my life with you. What I saw in Yale–a lovely community of students, a support network that I will have access to the rest of my life–triumphed against the cons of the cold. I was determined to conquer my first real winter–I bought two heavy coats, many warm beanies and so many fluffy socks in advance of my move to you. I still wasn’t completely prepared.

You are penetratingly cold. My earmuffs do little to keep your frigid air from biting at my skin. And yet, on my way to class, I willingly expose my fingers to the cold when I pull off my gloves to take a photo: your crystallized trees, your snowy courtyards. By the time I plunge my hand back into my pocket I can no longer feel anything–but your beauty captured in these pictures is worth it.

I often reminisce about my first snowfall at Yale. Within an hour, the landscape completely transformed into something out of Narnia. The first-years gathered on Old Campus and pelted each other with snowballs as Christmas music played. Snowmen and other snow-animals popped up all over campus. Now, when it snows, I feel like I’m walking in a postcard: the twinkling streetlights and warm glow from behind Gothic windows are picture perfect.

You’ve made me stronger. I am unfazed by your stormy skies, power outages, and blizzard warnings. I laugh in my family’s face when they complain about the California winter (lows: 60 degrees). And now, I am about to head outside to face that 8 degree temperature, boldly, fearlessly, courageously–but on second thought… it’s quite toasty here in my room. Hmm. A cup of hot chocolate and curling up under a mountain of blankets… Maybe I’ll just stay indoors instead. Utilize the basement tunnels to grab a bite at the dining halls, or groove to the beat in the dance studio, all without stepping foot outside. Yup, it’s too cold out there. This California girl has her limits, after all.

Sincerely, a Californian

First published on the Yale Admissions Website. To see more of my posts as a Yale Admissions Blogger, click here.