There is such an art to being a good friend, and my friends express this art in many forms: their perfectly crafted and well-timed supportive texts, their mastery of my bad moods, their aptitude for making me feel validated. These acts are profound.
Sometimes, I don’t want to look into my mind because I’m afraid of what I might find there. But there’s a beautiful aesthetic to life, and this aesthetic exists in my internal world as well as my external one.
The film is far from perfect, but it performs the difficult and important job of forcing its viewers to think about those touchy things that might make them angry, or uncomfortable, or confused. And those feelings are certainly a start.
We are all here because we worked hard, but something sinister lurks underneath every long night I spend in Lamont. I am faced with cold reality—that luck is what carried me here, and there are thousands of others with potential, smarts, and drive who did not receive the same opportunity. I’m not talking about those unlucky individuals who were forced to go to sub-par schools like Yale. I’m talking about those who may not have had time for homework because they had to hold down a job and take care of their siblings, or those who were never even told that college was a possibility for them.
Balance means not only taking time for oneself but also taking time to be human. We really can derive so much strength from each other, and it is a shame not to tap into the power source that sincere communication and time spent with others can provide.