Herald Volume LXXXV Issue 1

THE YALE HERALD Feb. 1, 2019 | vol LXXXV | Issue 1

Yale’s most daring publication since 1986

A violent encounter between a dog and a boy sets off legal drama, and tears a neighborhood apart. By Jack Kyono, PC ’20

FROM THE EDITORS My dears, It’s cold, but it’s not that cold. No complaining allowed! Anyway, a new Herald is out to warm you up like no other. Wrap each of your limbs in a page of the paper and you’ll be g2g.

This semester is full of new beginnings and I am overjoyed to share our first issue with you. We have some exciting growths planned— including, but not limited to: a new team of editors, an updated design, and a brand spanking new section on art and photography titled “Fuzz.”

(Was I in the room when this name was decided? Maybe.)

VISIT US ONLINE AT YALEHERALD.COM

In Opinions, find the start of a conversational bi-weekly column by Amanda Thomas, SY ’21, and Max Himpe, BF ’21, discussing Gillette and what happens when corporate feminism takes on masculinity. And in Features, we’re starting a new column for pieces with a historical angle. The first installment, by Chalay Chalermkraivuth, SY ’20, looks at the fingerprint and the relationship between biology and identity.

And turn to the center spread to find this week’s cover story by Jack Kyono, PC ’20, which tells a very American story about a dog named Simon. It’s about small-town drama, legal battles, and a woman named Coco Ring. It’s a wild ride.

There’s a lot more inside; I hope you like where we’re going.

With love, Fiona Editor-in-Chief

The Herald Masthead EDITORIAL STAFF

The Yale Herald is a not-for-profit, non-partisan, incorporated student publication registered with the Yale College Dean’s Office.

If you wish to subscribe to the Herald, please contact the Editor-in-Chief at fiona.drenttel@yale.edu.

Receive the Herald for one semester for 40 dollars, or for the 2018-2019 academic year for 65 dollars.

The Yale Herald is published by Yale College students, and Yale University is not responsible for its contents. All opinions expressed are those of the authors and do not reflect the views of The Yale Herald, Inc. or Yale University. Copyright 2018 The Yale Herald.

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Fiona Drenttel MANAGING EDITORS Marina Albanese Chalay Chalermkraivuth

EXECUTIVE EDITORS Emma Chanen, Emily Ge, Margaret

Grabar Sage, Jack Kyono, Nicole Mo,

Marc Shkurovich, Eve Sneider, Anna Sudderth, Oriana Tang FEATURES EDITORS Joe Abramson, Jordan Powell, Shannon Sommers CULTURE EDITORS Laurie Roark, Helen Teegan VOICES EDITORS Hamzah Jhaveri, Mariah Kreutter OPINION EDITOR Spencer Hagaman REVIEWS EDITORS Kat Corfman, Everest Fang, Douglas Hagemeister FUZZ EDITORS Matt Reiner, Harrison Smith INSERTS EDITORS Sarah Force, Addee Kim

DESIGN STAFF CREATIVE DIRECTORS Julia Hedges, Rasmus Schlutter DESIGN EDITORS Paige Davis, Michelle Li, Molly Ono

IN THIS ISSUE 6

10, 16

Luca Scoppetta-Stern, BF ’22, dissects familial changes, childhood memories, and loss in his retrospective poem “Nul.”

Edie Abraham-Macht, BR ’22, questions why sororities are unwilling to speak publicly about sexual assault on campus.

Meanwhile, Robert Scaramuccia, TC ’19, finds home in a beat-up Toyota Camry that carries him and his mother through sickness.

Chalay Chalermkraivuth, SY ’20, takes a closer look at the fingerprint, examining the bio-politics of identity.

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Max Himpe, BF ’21, and Amanda Thomas, SY ’21, consider the implications of—and truth behind—Gillette’s controversial advert in the premiere of their new biweekly column, “Tea Time with Max and Amanda.”

Brianna Wu, MC ’21, finds herself staring from the Yale Center for British Art into the SigEp backyard and loving it.

Voices

Features

Opinions Culture

Week Ahead

Mariah Kreutter, BK ’20, teaches us how to recreate her favorite Atticus flavors (with avocado).

And Anika Bhargava, BF ’21, swims through the history of floodscape painting.

JAW: PUNXSUTAWNEY PHILHARMONIC SATURDAY FEB. 2 @ 8:00 P.M. MORSE/STILES CRESCENT THEATER

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PAINTING/PRINTMAKING MFA THESIS SHOW GROUP 1 RECEPTION SATURDAY FEB. 2 @ 6:00 P.M. YALE SCHOOL OF ART

In the Herald’s new section, eight students respond to this week’s prompt: take a picture of a drawing on a forehead.

Helen Teegan, ES ’21, talks free will, fan flowcharts, and the interactive latest Black Mirror installment, “Bandersnatch.”

ROXANE GAY READING & CONVERSATION TUESDAY FEB. 5 @ 7:00 P.M. SHEFFIELD-STERLING-STRATHCONA ROOM 114

Fuzz

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Cover INCOMING

Fiona

OUTGOING

Jack

A violent encounter between a dog and a boy sets off legal drama, and tears a neighborhood apart. By Jack Kyono, PC ’20

Reviews Eric Krebs, JE ’21, recounts his experience listening to Vampire Weekend’s latest singles, reflecting on the journey of the indie legends.

Emma Chanen, BK ’19, tells you why you need to watch both the Hulu and the Netflix version of the Fyre Festival documentary.

Lena Gallager, JE ’21, takes us through the new Netflix series Sex Education, noting its fresh perspective on a timeless entertainment subject: sex.

INSERTS

CUSTOMER NOTIFICATION/ RECALL COMMUNICATION SELENA MARTINEZ, DC ’22

D

ear Valued Customer,

This letter is to inform you that Mattel Inc. is voluntarily recalling the following product: MY LITTLE CRIMINAL DEFENSE ATTORNEY.

becoming cold and callous ASSHOLES. One customer wrote, “Since buying MY LITTLE CRIMINAL DEFENSE ATTORNEY, my eight-year-old only gives me brooding glares or looks right through me, like I’m not even there!” Another said, “My daughter’s been charging me by the hour! And the little ASSHOLE can’t even pronounce her ‘r’s!”

And yet another parent let us know that “my ASSHOLE son learned of my 1994 DUI and is now using it to discredit my authority when it comes to bedtime!”

This recall is being made with the knowledge of the Juvenile Products Manufacturers Association and the American Bar Association and has been initiated due to the discovery of negative effects upon child users of MY LITTLE CRIMINAL We offer our deepest apologies for any DEFENSE ATTORNEY. inconvenience or damage caused by the We here at Mattel Inc. strive to provide distribution of MY LITTLE CRIMINAL children with the tools needed for fun, DEFENSE ATTORNEY. adventure, and education in their early years. However, in a major miscalculation, ThisrecalldoesnotextendtootherMYLITTLE we released MY LITTLE CRIMINAL products, including (but not limited to) MY DEFENSE ATTORNEY, a doll intended LITTLE HEDGE FUND MANAGER, to encourage young girls and boys to enter MY LITTLE TENURED PROFESSOR, the lucrative profession of playing devil’s or MY LITTLE COMMERCIAL REAL advocate. MY LITTLE CRIMINAL ESTATE MOGUL. DEFENSE ATTORNEY comes equipped with oversized coke-bottle glasses, a pull- If you have any questions, please contact string to elicit poorly pronounced Latin Mattel Inc. customer service or your local toy provider. phrases, and one (1) black glove.

You wrote to us in droves. Your largest complaints? That your children were

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THE YALE HERALD

5 Top 5 Worst Things to Write on a Cake ADDEE KIM, JE ’21 YH STAFF

5.

Happy Girthday!

Happy Passover!

3.

Happy Birthday! (in braille)

Sorry about the IBS diagnosis.

1.

4.

2.

Congrats! (IBS diagnosis)

#DepressionisHard ELLIOT CONNORS, MC ’20 YH STAFF

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his past Wednesday was Bell Let’s Talk Day, a social media campaign sponsored by the telephone provider to promote awareness about mental illness and destigmatize depression. Before this event, I did not realize that depression is stigmatized, and was shocked and horrified to learn that something I have struggled with for much of my life is generally considered uncouth to talk about.

damental misconception, namely, that you can’t get hard on antidepressants. Though decreased sex drive is a common side effect of SSRI’s, you can still get hard; you just can’t come sometimes.

This is why I am proud to announce my new social media campaign, “Depression is Hard,” in which I will go into my bedroom on Crown Street and get hard on my Prozac.

I will achieve a full-on erection using only However, I soon realized that people only my hands (clothes on, of course). No visual avoid discussing depression because of a fun- pornography, only imagination. To prove that

my Prozac is not actually Viagra, I will give one of my pills to an unneutered dog and we will see if it dies. Whether you have any experience with depression, I encourage you to swing by on Saturday, if only for the refreshments. All proceeds will go to the charity that throws Prozac out of floats like candy during parades. Best of all, doctors are saying that if my erection lasts for more than four hours, I will be cured of depression.

VOICES Nul for A.H. i) nothing stranger than looking through a curtained window but yours from where i stand across 23nd street shuddering in the aubergine glow of dusk ask none void charcoal-smothered like a pit in drooling silence after the scream of flame subsides ii) the heat in my grandmother’s apartment sputters sporadically even when it’s been on all day my mother says not to complain

we won’t be here forever but i’m not complaining i’m tacit remembering how you used to look at me when i told you out of the blue not to worry about the sky falling

we were three

6 THE YALE HERALD

iii) driving up the i-95 through new england to tour colleges

a future-lottery my father told a lie like a vicious fissure riving solid earth because somehow we knew it was not a lie it was prophecy my mother got out of the car and ran all the way to the rest stop

in my ears

fugitive

but now it’s he who flees now he steals away back to a nether of unimagination

don’t you feel like you’re 18 again? iv) i’m 18 and i don’t feel like anything

now the sky is debris all around us around me my own words ringing sour as

prophecy

LUCA SCOPPETTA-STERN, BF ’22

everything

but forwards though i do miss the mornings when we’d take the M23 to school our fathers in the row behind us and we’d look out the window craning fragile necks to take in

7 Taupe ROBERT SCARAMUCCIA, TC ’19

T

he 2002 Toyota Camry LE sedan’s hard plastic interior came in two colors: Stone and Taupe. Taupe is French for “mole.” Painters choose taupe when their subjects—moles, smog, manhole covers—require a hue drearier than gray or brown.

My Camry LE is a hand-me-down from an uncle who preferred taupe over stone. He left mustard-yellow doggie bags with swamp-film lettering in the recesses of the backseat doors, bags that tastefully complement the golden-arched McDonald’s receipts crumpled in the front cubby. To the car’s exterior, which aspires to “Desert Sand” but looks more like the shade of beige in which accountants dream, my uncle made several aftermarket modifications, including an auburn scratch under the right headlight and a cavernous dent over the back-left wheel well.

The only sensible use for a seventeen-year-old slab of beige is bringing your sick mother on errands you could’ve done yourself. It doesn’t work for the big stuff. When you’re barreling down the interstate on Christmas night, trying to reach a new set of lungs before they spoil in a hospital cooler, an Audi like my dad’s makes more sense, letting you make the two-hour trip in thirty minutes. The Camry, shuddering at the slightest breeze, is better for the follow-ups: the pharmacies, hair salons and nail places that are like Six Flags for homebound mothers. The dent is easy to spot in a hospital garage, the scratch in a Stop and Shop parking lot. The sandy frame rattles when you push eighty miles an hour on the highway, so your mom can tell you to take it easy, Nelly, without even glancing at the speedometer.

And when you’re frantically scouring rest stops

for a public bathroom because she told you to take it easy, Nelly, and now she can’t hold it until you get home, the rear-view mirror conveniently snaps off at the slightest touch for increased windshield visibility.

That mild incontinence isn’t a symptom of her illness—at least, not directly. She has pulmonary fibrosis, which is the diagnosis pulmonologists give for inexplicable coughing fits that, over the span of years, exhaust the lungs to the point of failure. For a while, my mom was going to die.

The Camry is a refuge—simpler and more familiar than the oxygen tanks and feeding tubes that go with serious illness. Take the sound system.

It doesn’t have a touchscreen or USB port, just a radio, a CD player, and a “LOGIC CONTROL CENTER” for the cassette tapes. One button, pressed by a purple-painted fingernail, and my cousin’s Christian rock crooning starts reverberating off the mole-colored plastic. We used to sing along with him, back when my mom drove me to visit her own homebound mother.

But that was a different car, a different time.

Mostly we don’t listen to anything, preferring the quiet to Roseanne and Last Man Standing blaring out of the TV at home. I like hearing and feeling the tires struggle over the asphalt lumps covering the cracks in our street. Sometimes I let the cassette player tick without a tape inside, its click, click, clicking a metronome for the rumbling rubber. My mom scrolls through Facebook, liking photos of former coworkers’ newly leased Chargers, her nails clacking against the sneezesmudged screen.

We spend the days before I return to Yale driving up and down Route 44, the Camry doing its best impression of a gleam as we hit the destinations for which it was made. CVS Pharmacy and Walmart on Monday; CVS Pharmacy and Supercuts on Tuesday; Dressbarn, Stop and Shop, and CVS Pharmacy on Wednesday. My mom always uses the bathroom before leaving the house so that we can take the long way home: the scraggly road winding between the cemetery and the dump. Sometimes we stop at the duck pond across from the condo complex for lunch.

Nuggets and fries for me, Osmolite 1.5 Cal Tube Feeding Formula for her. We complain about Last Man Standing; I think about bringing up a problem with my girlfriend, but she answers a call from her sister before I say anything. Most of the time, we just look out the spotty windshield at the rippling sun in the water.

My check engine light is on. It has been for a while. The Camry has a busted catalytic converter, which is the diagnosis the guy from Advance Auto Parts gave for the scorching fumes venting from its underside. It’s dying, but that’s okay. We’ve survived a lot: two-hour trips to the hospital, two-minute trips to McDonald’s. Other check engine lights are searing shades of orange.

This one’s calmer, dimmer. When I’m racing down suburban streets on 20º nights with a fantasy-game soundtrack blasting out the open windows, trying to find a new purpose for an aging car, the orange melts into the surrounding taupe.

OPINION

MAX HIMPE, BF ’21 AND AMANDA THOMAS, SY ’21 Drawings by Matt Reiner In the first piece of the new biweekly column, Tea Time with Max and Amanda, Max Himpe, BF ’21, and Amanda Thomas, SY ’21, consider the implications of—and truth behind— Gillette’s controversial advert in the first.

Max: If Gillette were to market a razor for me, its slogan would be “The Least a Man Can Get,” in honor of the little facial hair I can muster. But, of course, Gillette does not market to me. The Best Men that Gillette Could Get in their adverts were hetero-hunks with good teeth, short hair, and an affection for mirrors. I possess only one of those qualities. (I’m not telling you which one.) Gillette Jocks fed me a singular vision of dudedom and, ever since my first shave, I have not taken the bait.

So you can imagine my surprise when Gillette became the newest corporate passenger to board the “woke train.” Gillette’s latest advert, shockingly, tells us that men can do better. In the confusingly-shot sequence citing #MeToo, #BoysWillBeBoys, #WhatIActuallyThinkSheIsTryingToSay and plain-old #Bullies, Gillette inspires men to “act in the right way” and to teach the next generation what a Real Man is.

I’m always up for breaking down some gender norms and holding men accountable. But after years of misrepresenting and restricting masculinity, I struggle with Gillette’s attempt to speak for and to all men. It’s like the class clown suddenly turning around and telling you to respect the teacher. I just don’t buy the change.

Amanda’s response: I’m really interested in the idea of “a new corporate passenger boarded the woke train.” When I first watched this commercial (as the highly sentimental person I am), my eyes welled with tears. I think as a woman I tried to attach myself to anything with which I could connect.What stuck out to me in particular were the black men. I have seen videos on Twitter in which black men step up to encourage more positive images of what manhood (specifically black manhood, stereotypically considered violent, ruggish, and thuggish) could look like. I’m cynical about Gillette’s deci-

8 THE YALE HERALD

sion to put out this ad, but I am happy that they were able grooming. But becoming a man, in the orthodox sense, is to present the black community in a way that looks familiar. not just about the physical. It’s about exposure to cultural codes and dictates around male behavior; it’s about reThe point about Gillette not being a representative for pressing femininity. A more critical vision of masculinity people’s understanding of manhood is valid, but I think would address these more profound issues rather than celefor a lot of men shaving is seen as the first step towards brate the superficial non-rite of passage that is shaving. becoming a “man.”

Max’s Response: I agree that the brief segment about black masculinity was tear-jerking. But after a cursory Google of “Gillette male models,” I found very few black models. Does Gillette only now support black masculinity when it suits their brand? I’m not dismissing the representation; I’m just unconvinced that this is a meaningful take on masculinity from a brand that has so long represented so few masculinities, including those of People of Color.

As to whether shaving is a masculine rite of passage, that isn’t the case in every boy’s life. After my first shave, I looked like a Sweeney Todd victim, with shaving foam and spittle seeping from my mouth. It was a day of minor consequence and major annoyance. Since then, shaving has remained an unimportant task to me. I mow my facial lawn approximately every fortnight. It’s gotta be done, but it ain’t fun. Shaving certainly never underscored some significant transition from my boyhood to manhood. Finding out that I liked to touch my asshole was honestly more seminal.

If we allow a razor company to speak for manhood, then we are admitting that masculinity is only about bodies and

Amanda’s response: Thank you for looking it up! I doubt Gillette cares too much about whether they’re appealing to black men. I think they knew that this thing would circulate around Twitter, and “woke” people and #BlackTwitter would get a hold of it and turn it into a talking point. I hope there was at least one black person in the marketing meeting.

I’m going to have to agree with the razor company speaking for our manhood. I think if anyone’s going to speak for our manhood it’s going to have to be a company that has tried to sell us the idea that masculinity and manhood starts with facial hair. I agree that masculinity is more than facial hair, but people know the name Gillette and are going to actually care because it’s a huge company. If Axe created a commercial like this, boys in middle school would understand that manhood is more than a certain smell (a bad smell, if I may add, but hey, I’m not the voice of the people). I wonder who would be a better spokesperson than Gillette on the issue of toxic masculinity, without coming across as fake. I guess I found the commercial compelling because of its decision to include intersections between race and gender, which to do tastefully requires effort. I have the last word so you can’t reply so that sucks... I guess I’ll think about it... to myself.

“After my first shave, I looked like a Sweeney Todd victim, with shaving foam and spittle seeping from my mouth.”

FUZZ T

his is a new section for the Herald. Â We are excited to bring you visual content in various formats over the course of the semester. Â This week we asked our readers for a photograph of a drawing done on their forehead; here is what we received:

FEATURES

CHALAY CHALERMKRAIVUTH, SY ’20 YH STAFF

F

ingerprints are formed in response to the first environment we know: the womb. They begin to develop in the 10th week of pregnancy; between the 17th and 19th, they have settled into a pattern that—bar erosion by acid or fire, and sometimes even in spite of that—is permanent. A few theories circulate as to how they are produced. One suggests that the basal layer of the epidermis buckles and scrunches, such that the epidermis caves complexly into the dermis, like terrain collapsed over tectonic plates. It is due to the depth of this dermal engraving that fingerprints can grow back even in the aftermath of abrasion. Another theory claims, more lyrically, that they arise from friction as fingers touch the walls of the womb.

Because they are not only genetically but also environmentally determined, owing themselves to contact, oxygen levels, blood pressure, amniotic fluid composition, the length of the umbilical cord and so forth, even those of identical twins differ. They are among the earliest instances, in an individual’s lifespan, of differentiation by nurture.

In spite of these environmental influences, some studies have suggested a correlation between fingerprints and brain lobes, calling fingerprints “blueprints of cognition.” (When I was a pre-teen, my mother took me and my older brother to have our fingerprints scanned in an evaluation that claimed to predict “inborn” proclivities and level of brain activity. It was the most elaborate personality test I have ever taken.)

The information about the brain that fingerprints supposedly reveal “means that specialists have another tool for early diagnosis: our identity is mapped at our fingertips, but also, maybe, our individual fate,” writes Chantel Tattoli, somewhat dramatically, for The Paris Review. While fingerprint science of this sort does not seem to have much scholarly traction, more recent studies have suggested, in a fascinating inversion, that brain activity is so unique to and so stable within each individual that it can be used as a kind of “fingerprint,” which can supposedly be used to predict intelligence, risk of mental illness, and responsiveness to drugs. As of 2015, researchers could identify one person’s patterns from a set of 126—a tiny figure, compared to the 120 million actual fingerprints housed in the FBI-managed Next Generation

10 THE YALE HERALD

Identification Program, which belong, if the math thought to secure communities: Hartford recently holds, to 10 million people. proposed a mandate that called for the fingerprinting of substitute teachers, student interns, and field Fingerprints have, indeed, long been associated with trip chaperones, despite the weighty cost of $3,750 identity, predating their 19th-century use in forensic to the “small town’s tight budget.” And at the level of science and their 21st-century use in biometrics. Tat- “private” life, fingerprints unlock high-tech homes toli offers a brief history: “Thumb marks were used and phones—or they did, until Apple replaced their as personal seals to close business in Babylonia, and, fingerprint-reading home button with Face ID. in 1303, a Persian vizier recounted the use of finger- Faceless situations—the absence of a criminal, for prints as signatures during the Qin and Han Dynas- instance—might call for fingerprints, but facial recties.” What is new, of course, is their collection en ognition technology is becoming sufficiently sophismasse and their deployment for the sake of security. ticated to phase fingerprints out of modes of privacy It will come as a surprise to nobody that the use of where your biology is the key. fingerprints as biodata began as a colonial enterprise.

William Herschel takes credit for fingerprinting a We might mourn the shift in biometrics from touch Bengali man, Konai, as a form of personal identifi- to sight: recent studies revealed that facial recogcation. For what it is worth, there is a long history nition technology is (surprise) racially biased, and of fingerprinting in India that dates from the medie- commentators expressed concerns that it might val period; Tattoli claims that Herschel observed and open the doorway to rampant racial profiling when adopted the practice. His appropriation was highly Amazon proposed a form of home security based on successful—Tattoli’s was the only non-scholarly ac- a doorbell camera. But fingerprinting is far from incount that did not cite him as fingerprinting’s “inven- nocuous when a fingerprint is still, in the context tor.” Herschel demanded fingerprints from contrac- of the FBI’s gargantuan database, a litmus test of tors as well as from prisoners, in order to lock them whether or not you’ve ever been judged a criminal— into their contracts and prison sentences respectively. and what’s more racially biased than that? FingerIdentity morphed into criminal identification, which prints will continue to testify to your fitness to freely then morphed into crime-scene identification in enter a country or home, to your criminal record or 1902, when Alfred Bertillon became the first person a lack thereof. Biometric technology turns identity to solve a case on the basis of fingerprint evidence. into a database charged with political significance: Fingerprinting became its own science: dactyloscopy, the more information, the better. the analysis and classification of prints. The process of fingerprint identification is called individualization— The moment my fingerprint touches my home butmuch as the formation of a fingerprint is a kind of in- ton, as once upon a time it touched the walls of my dividualization in miniature. (Both criminology and mother’s womb, is a moment that an internal world is dactyloscopy have, at different times, championed the yielded up to me. “My identity” has produced it, and myth of immutable personality types, but there has gives me sole access to it—unless, as commentators never been an effort to identify an archetypal “crimi- have grimly noted, someone cuts off my thumb. There nal fingerprint,” only a criminal’s fingerprints.) is, of course, something terrifying about this, about the weaponization of identity and its role in extreme Since then, fingerprint evidence has been some- privatization. Why does my identity determine my what discredited, despite its emblematic association world as exclusively as it does? Conversely, identity— with crime-scene investigation—high-profile cas- in the sense of subject position—always determines es of fingerprint misidentification testify against it. worlds. The fingerprint is just yet another instance Its locus of use has shifted and expanded: finger- where biological fact is given far more world-deterprint identification has moved from the realm of mining significance than it ought to receive. criminality to the not-unrelated realms of security and privacy. At the transnational level, biometrics Unlike other facts about our biology, we don’t identify monitor borders. At the civic level, fingerprinting is with our fingerprints. But they identify us.

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The process of fingerprint identification is called individualization—

just like the formation of a fingerprint is a kind of individualization in miniature.

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie JACK KYONO, PC ’20 YH STAFF

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ucked away in a sleepy corner of the sleepy coastal town of Guilford, Connecticut, lies Oxbow Lane. A collection of big houses sitting on indulgent lawns line the quiet street. For the past year and half, it has been especially quiet between two houses next door to each other. Since the incident, there is no longer the sound of a barking dog, and the only communication between the households has either been through legal counsel, or middle-fingers.

One of those houses, a steel-blue split level presiding over a neat row of shrubbery, belongs to Dr. David Young, his wife, and their four children. Dr. Young, an ER physician at St. Vincent’s in Bridgeport, pauses occasionally while he talks, adjusting the Transitions lenses that rest upon his nose.

Dr. Young paces across his property, and takes one of those pauses in the middle of the yard. Here, he says, is where the pool used to be. When he had it taken out, he had given all the stone to his next door neighbors, the ones he no longer speaks to. They had used the stones to build a patio.

This part of the lawn, it happens, is also where the incident took place.

In the driveway of the house directly across the street from the Young household, two boys are playing street hockey. One of the boys, wearing a red flannel jacket, raises his stick, and sends a ball flying towards the garage door, where the other boy is playing goalie. Dr. Young pauses, and indicates the boy in the red flannel shirt across the street. “That’s the kid.”

THE INCIDENT Early in the afternoon of Aug. 8, 2017, Sean Filley, then 12-years-old, was playing lacrosse in his backyard. After an errant shot, Filley’s ball flew over the fence and into the backyard of the Youngs, who were away on vacation in Cape Cod at the time. Filley, lacrosse stick in hand, trekked into his neighbor’s yard to retrieve his ball.

14 days. A year and a half later, Simon remains in the shelter.

On Aug. 14, the Monday after the incident, residents of Oxbow Lane—including the Filleys—gathered in Guilford Town Hall to discuss what had happened. In attendance were several high profile Guilford government officials, including the town attorney, the Chief of Police, and First Selectman Joseph Mazza, who serves as the de facto Chief Executive of the town. Dr. Filley entered the yard and saw Simon, a mixed- Young, who was invited to attend the meeting, was abbreed part-pitbull belonging to the Young family, sent, due to work at the ER. playing with the ball. Filley approached, holding his stick aloft. Simon, detecting an unwanted intruder, There are no official minutes of the town hall meeting, went after him. but it is summarized in Borrelli’s police report. One by one, the neighbors of Oxbow Lane demanded that SiWhen Filley returned to his own yard seconds later, he mon be euthanized. The victim’s father presented phowas stumbling towards his house with a gaping hole in tos of his son’s injury. Some neighbors said they were his left thigh, three inches long, one inch wide, and as scared to walk around the neighborhood when Simon deep as Simon’s front teeth. was in the yard. Others, by their own admission, had no personal experience with Simon, but reported that At 2:00 p.m., Danielle Borrelli, Guilford’s Animal they had heard bad things. All were opposed to Simon Control Officer, pulled onto Oxbow Lane. Filley sat returning to Oxbow Lane. with his leg wrapped in paper towels. His grandmother, Brenda, brought Borrelli into the house, and After the neighbors had left, Selectman Mazza and the demanded that the dog be euthanized immediately. other town officials met privately with Borrelli. The Filley, hearing this, began to chant, “Kill the dog!” town attorney expressed fears that returning Simon could be a legal liability for the town, were he to bite Borrelli called Dr. Young to explain the situation. She someone else in the future. The town officials suggesttold him that in her opinion, it would be best for Si- ed that a kill-order might be the best path forward. mon to come with her to the Guilford Animal Shelter.

With Dr. Young’s permission, Borrelli led Simon into While Borrelli had noted in earlier reports that she her car, and drove him to the shelter, with the under- would likely not be delivering a kill-order on Simon, standing that he would be quarantined for a period of she met with Dr. Young four days after the town hall

meeting, informing him that a kill-order was imminent. Though informed of his ability to appeal the decision before the Connecticut Department of Agriculture (DoA), Dr. Young gave his blessing to put Simon down. Borrelli scheduled a euthanization appointment at Guilford Veterinary Hospital for Aug. 23, the following Wednesday.

But that plan would not last long. On the morning of Aug. 21—ten days after the incident—an email from Dr. Young was waiting in the inbox of Guilford Animal Control, stating, “At the end of the day we strongly feel this decision is unjustified, and is just an attempt by the police to placate loud and objectionable neighbors who have pets themselves. With this in mind and after careful consideration we do plan to appeal this decision.”

THE APPEAL Eight days after the incident, as he prepared to announce his appeal of the kill-order, Dr. Young hired Thompson Page, an animal rights attorney based in Hartford. Page has devoted his career trying to save dogs on “death row,” like Simon: “I will die sitting at my desk drafting a brief, trying to save a dog.”

Page and Dr. Young believe the kill-order is unjustified for two reasons: property rights, and Simon’s lack of previous offense.

When Dr. Young and his family returned home from Cape Cod, two days after the incident, they discovered that part of the wire fence which divides their property

from the Filleys’ had fallen apart. It is their belief that Some time before the incident, Connecticut State Sean Filley cut through the fence using wire cutters in Representative Sean Scanlon, who represents Guilford order to gain access to their backyard. and neighboring Branford, was going door-to-door on Oxbow Lane while campaigning for reelection. As he John Ferranti, a brother-in-law of the Filleys, who approached the Young’s door, Simon came around the spoke on their behalf for this story, vigorously denies corner and chased him out of the yard, biting at his that Sean Filley cut through the wire. He calls this al- ankles. Dr. Young denies that there was an actual “bite,” legation “absolutely ludicrous,” adding, “The fence had but Borrelli cites the “...the history of the dog with anbeen in disrepair for years.” The official police report other bite of Rep. Sean Scanlon…” as one of the main contains no mention of the fence. reasons for Simon’s kill-order. Rep. Scanlon’s office did not respond to multiple requests for comment.

But whether or not the fence was cut, Page and Dr. Young remain convinced that Sean Filley passed into But despite Page and Dr. Young’s arguments for why the yard without permission and was thus trespassing. the kill-order should never have been filed against SiBorrelli, in her initial report of the incident, seemed mon, and Borrelli’s initial inclination not to sign off to agree with their position, writing, “...[Filley] did in on it, the kill-order exists. And in their appeal of the fact trespass on the dog owner’s yard. I explained that kill-order, they are fighting an uphill battle against a because of this, at this time, we are not going to order centuries-old state law.

Simon be euthanized.”

According to Connecticut statute 22-358, Animal Normally, the first time a dog bites a human, the dog Control Officers (ACOs) are given discretion to issue a is quarantined for a brief period, then returned to its kill-order as they deem “necessary.” Previous case law in owners. Since Simon fits this description, Page and Connecticut has never interpreted “necessary” to mean Dr. Young believe the kill-order is evidence of unfair- anything less than the ACO’s total discretion. Page ness. Borrelli’s initial report again seems to agree: she thinks this is a huge problem. “We got a law on the responds to Filley’s chant to “kill the dog” by stating books in Connecticut that says, well, if a city employee that since there was no record of Simon ever previously believes that a dog shouldn’t live, that’s fine, then he can attacking a human, there would be no kill-order. just order it killed. And that’s the law. And it’s allowed.”

In another critique of the law, Page seriously quesHowever, neighbors of the Young family who testified tions the capability of ACOs to fairly rule on a dog’s at the Aug. 14 town hall meeting contend that Simon life. “ACOs are always, have been for centuries, padid in fact previously attack another person. tronage jobs,” he says. “Their brother’s sister’s ex-lover’s cousin’s second aunt’s boyfriend worked at the city and got them a job.”

“I will die sitting at my desk drafting a brief, trying to save a dog.”

And so with the current legal interpretation of 22-358, there is almost no chance that Dr. Young will win his appeal at the DoA. Page admits that he fully expects to lose. After that, he will appeal to the Connecticut Superior Court. Those proceedings could take several years.

“Overwhelmingly you lose there, too.” Then it’s on to the Appellate Court, which means another few years of proceedings. But Page notes that this is the only path forward. “That’s how I keep the dog alive. If I don’t do what I do, they’ll kill the dog.”

to withdraw the order. “I’m a dog owner myself. A longterm dog owner. I’ve had four dogs in my adult life, including one currently that is a rescue,” says Selectman Hoey. “So I am sympathetic to Dr. Young’s family’s position about [their] dog. That doesn’t mean that I am going to change my mind upon the fact that the ACO has the ultimate jurisdiction on this.”

This is an unacceptable excuse for Page and Dr. Young, who believe that the only reason Borrelli signed the kill-order in the first place was due to pressure from Page and Dr. Young are still waiting for their appeal higher-ups in the Guilford town government, during hearing. The DoA cancelled the initial hearing on the initial private meeting on Aug. 14, 2017.

Sept. 24, 2018—over a year after the incident—because Page tried to bring the press and around 75 [Ironically, Borrelli is Simon’s principal caretaker at the supporters of Simon and the Young family into the Guilford Animal Shelter. According to a friend of the official meeting room in Hartford. A new hearing has Young family who has visited Simon, in the past year yet to be scheduled. and a half, Simon has grown acclimated to the shelter, and even sees Borrelli as his owner: “He follows her [Page and Dr. Young have since filed a federal lawsuit around like she’s his human.”] against the DoA, claiming the DoA’s prohibition of outside observers at the appeal hearing violates First So without support from the First Selectman, the task Amendment privileges.] ahead for Page is just to wait. But he is confident that eventually, he will win out, and Simon will be free. “I’ve Besides the appeals process, the only chance for Simon never lost a dog.” Page boasts. “But I have dogs that to be released is if the Town of Guilford withdraws the live for years in pounds while these towns fight me, bekill-order. The person responsible for making this de- cause they won’t admit that the law’s fucked up and they cision is the Animal Control Officer; it is Page’s belief shouldn’t have this unfettered power to do whatever the that since the ACO reports to the Chief of Police, who hell they want.” in turn reports to the First Selectman, it’s ultimately the First Selectman, as Chief Executive, who has the au- And despite Selectman Hoey’s statement, Dr. Young thority to withdraw the order. remains firm in his commitment to put pressure on the town government. “They’re hoping Simon dies in the In November 2017, three months after the incident, pound. They’re hoping this thing goes away. But it’s not the Town of Guilford elected Matthew Hoey III, a gonna go away.”

Democrat, as First Selectman, replacing the retiring Republican Joseph Mazza. After the election, Dr. THE ARMY Young wrote a letter to Selectman Hoey, hoping the change in leadership signalled an opportunity to get While the appeals process stalls, a group of supportthe kill-order withdrawn. ers of Simon and the Young family have been waging a war online and in the streets under the collective Dr. Young was disappointed. Selectman Hoey does not title, Save Simon. believe that it is within his authority to order the ACO

The Save Simon Facebook page makes posts several times a day. They have helped organize appeals to Gov. Ned Lamont’s office, and have picketed Guilford Town Hall. As of the time of publication, a Change. org petition titled “Save Simon on Death Row,” organized by the group, has almost 25,000 signatures. The petition is addressed to the office of First Selectman Matthew Hoey.

The leader of the group, by popular acclamation, is Coco Ring. Ring is a self-described “feisty, old, crippled lady.”

She, like many of the supporters of the Save Simon campaign, found out about Simon’s story over Facebook. Now she attends nearly every Board of Selectmen meeting, acts as an admin of the Save Simon Facebook page, and is the featured voice at most of their protests.

Ring takes her job seriously, admitting, “My son-in-law bought me a megaphone for Christmas.” She has visited Simon at the shelter, and has commissioned a portrait of him by an artist-friend of hers.

“Coco Ring” is also not her real name: it’s Cindy Vaporis. Coco was the name of her late dog, a min-pin chihuahua that died of pancreatic cancer a few years ago.

Ring was her mother’s maiden name.

Save Simon has also taken up the task of getting public support all throughout Coastal Connecticut. Spelled out in big block letters on a poster, which Ring says she has posted in Guilford, Branford, and East Haven, is written “Please Help Us To Save Simon & Your Beloved Dogs From Connecticut’s cold-hearted politicians. Don’t Let Guilford Destroy Another Family.” The phone number for Selectman Hoey’s office appears at the bottom.

After a member of the Save Simon campaign filed Freedom of Information Act (FOI) requests through the town clerk, it was revealed that the Town of Guilford, as of September 2018, has spent over $35,000 on legal fees dealing with the Young appeal. This number appears on Ring’s Save Simon poster as part of their argument: “DID YOU KNOW: Guilford has wasted more than $35,000 of your tax dollars on lawyers to keep Simon the

“You tell me how much we

should spend on public safety.”

dog, a beloved family pet, locked up.” Selectman Hoey THE FUNDRAISER confirmed that this number is correct, but responds, “In my mind, the $35,000 that we have spent at this point This past Sunday, outside Frisco’s Pizza on the eastern is a matter of public safety. You tell me how much we end of New Haven, a crowd is huddled on the curb. should spend on public safety.”

They shout at cars driving by on U.S. Highway 1, and the cars honk back, showing their support. Some of In the battle over public opinion, another of Save Si- them pull over, and throw cash into an orange bucket. mon’s main lines of attack has been painting the Filley It’s freezing. To stay warm, someone in the crowd passes family and their allies as “well-connected” in the Town out shooters of Fireball whiskey. A few brandish Foxon of Guilford, with enough political clout to influence the Parks or cigarettes. Nearly all hold signs showing a dog Board of Selectmen’s decision to sign Simon’s kill-or- with coffee-colored fur and emblazoned with the words, der. One Facebook post reads, “Simon has not had a fair “Save Simon.” chance and is a victim of a conspiracy, and because this kid’s family has connections, now Simon has to die.” At the first Save Simon fundraiser, Coco Ring, megaFerranti, the Filleys’ brother-in-law, derides this allega- phone in hand, is running the show. Outside, she’s selling tion as part of Save Simon’s “horrible, horrible misin- t-shirts and small painted stones. Inside of Frisco’s, she formation campaign...What connections? Dave [Filley, gives instructions to her fellow Save Simon organizers the victim’s father] was a drop-out in high school, he who are running the donation table. Money is flowing went back to school. Robin [Filley, the victim’s mother] in from several sources: besides the bucket on the street, is an LPN [Licensed Practical Nurse]. They don’t have and the t-shirt sales outside, John Frisco, the owner, has connections. They don’t have any money.” promised all of the day’s profits to the campaign. There are even people calling in to make donations by phone.

Ferranti believes that the allegation is better directed The money, Ring clarifies to a few patrons, is not going at Dr. Young himself, citing Dr. Young’s hire of a New to legal fees, but to “awareness,” in the form of either a York-based publicist named Mark Goldman in June full page ad in the Guilford Courier, or a billboard. One 2018 to represent him in media matters. While Save of the women at the donation table agrees: “We want Simon frequently appears in the Hartford Courant and that big, digital billboard,” she says. “Over a highway, or Guilford Courier, the Filley family rarely engages with something,” adds another. the media. Ferranti bemoans, “They got six kids, two in college. They can’t hire a PR firm.”

In their small conversations out by the curb, or around the donation table, the supporters of Save Simon are reDr. Young finds nothing wrong with retaining a publi- viewing the facts of the case on an endless loop. They cist, explaining “I’m only one person. I work two jobs.” correct each other on small details and dates, or propose Dr. Young is only one person. But he also has, in the legal justifications based on carefully-cited Connecticut form of Save Simon, a media machine that is happy to statutory law. In their retelling of the story, they negowork for free. tiate on who the villain should be: is it the police chief,

or the Filley family? Sometimes it is the whole neighborhood. Sometimes it is the boy. But by and large, the most popular target is First Selectman Matthew Hoey.

In everyone’s minds, Hoey is the only reason why Simon is still in the shelter.

“I can’t believe I voted for him,” one supporter says by the side of the road. Another supporter turns to her, sharing the sentiment: “I did too! I’m a Democrat, but I didn’t know he was a scumbag. There’s no chance he gets reelected.”

Justin Daley is a marine-archaeologist who grew up in Guilford. He just finished his dissertation on “The Impact of Capitalism on the Minority Representation in the Yankee Whaling Industry.” He tells the other supporters on the curb, “I told Matt Hoey I wanted to dump a cup of coffee on his head to wake him up, and he called the police on me.” Hoey will be up for reelection in the Fall of 2021.

Dr. Young moves through the pizzeria, shaking hands with supporters, and answering their questions. For many in Save Simon, Dr. Young’s case is about much more than a dog. It is about private property: the right to one’s own dog and one’s own backyard. There is a hint of fear in all their voices. But they are also unapologetic. Daley tells a passerby outside, “In my eyes, the dog is a hero.”

The woman behind the donation table puts it more strongly: “Come in my yard, and you’re getting bit.

That’s the way a dog protects its property.”

FEATURES

EDIE ABRAHAM-MACHT, BR ’22

I

n an email to the student body on Jan. 14, Yale College Dean Marvin Chun “condemned the culture” of sexual assault produced by Delta Kappa Epsilon (DKE) fraternity members—or, in less decorous language, the groping and forcible kissing (not to mention graver accusations) that occur at DKE parties. However, the Dean declined to punish the fraternity, nor did he propose tangible steps to change campus culture. This murky response elicited a cold reception from many students: Engender, an organization dedicated to making Greek life co-educational, demands that “Yale...take explicit action against groups whose membership exhibits patterns of sexual misconduct.”

In the midst of this impassioned discussion about fraternities, it was difficult not to wonder what the fraternities’ counterpart thought about the situation. It is especially important to hear their voices, given that rush season is upon us and first-year girls are debating whether or not to join. So, what do sorority members think about the charges? Do they challenge the mistreatment of women perpetrated by fraternities, or do they end up becoming apologists—unwittingly or not—for the guys?

Unfortunately, any answer to these questions remains elusive. Not a single current sorority member agreed to be interviewed, even with offers of complete anonymity. It could be that these women don’t care about the subject, though that seems unlikely. Another possibility is that they’re just not willing to talk to a reporter, and they’re letting the male Greeks know exactly what they think about their ugly behavior in private. The most troubling explanation, however, is that sororities actively or implicitly silence their members, for fear of being ostracized by their male counterparts if they speak out.

16 THE YALE HERALD

But maybe none of these theories are correct. Katie Quesada, BR ’22, has another explanation for sorority silence. For one thing, Quesada questions why sorority sisters should be responsible for explaining the actions of fraternities. “Sororities are more than just sisters to the frats,” she says. Mixers, she insists, are not the center of sorority life, by any stretch of the imagination; sororities are first and foremost an allegiance of women. Since, in Katie’s opinion, sororities are not inextricably intertwined with the undertakings of fraternities, they might dislike being tasked with responding to the allegations against frats. Still, Katie notes that members “would have to be careful how they used their voice,” suggesting that in a certain way, sororities are dependent on positive relationships with fraternities. She speculates that overly harsh criticism might affect sororities’ funding, their ability to continue mixing with fraternities, and other vital features of Greek life.

me feel good just because those are topics you can’t discuss with everybody, but [in a sorority you] have a group of girls who all have something in common and they’re supportive of you.” This rushee seems to expect that sorority members don’t want to publicly engage in conversation about fraternity misconduct, but that those discussions happen privately. This expectation, however, seems perhaps at odds with the strong reticence sorority members exhibited when I asked for their thoughts in the fraternity debate.

Given their across-the-board refusal to comment even with their reputations protected by anonymity, it’s difficult to imagine sorority members ever feeling comfortable interrogating their male counterparts, even in a private setting.

Joyce Wu, BR ’22, does not mention the possibility of discussing these issues with her potential sorority sisters, but she said she would trust that her future sorority would cease associating with a certain frat Clearly, sorority members walk a fine line when de- “if anything was ever wrong or if they found someciding whether to speak out on such a polarizing is- thing problematic.” sue. But if they are, indeed, concerned about being perceived as condoning or relying upon fraternities, All this aside, all three rushees seem to put “hangit might be in their best interest to make public com- ing with frat boys” pretty far down on their lists of ment. If not, sororities risk being seen as, in the words reasons to join a sorority. To Katie, a sorority is first of Engender communications director Gabe Roy, TD and foremost a “social outlet,” which fosters a “sense ’21, a group of girls that “at their core” are focused on of family.” After all, she says, everyone who signs up “insulating and protecting secrets.” “wants to be there.” The anonymous rushee agrees.

The best argument for joining a sorority, she says, Not everyone sees sorority silence as a problem. An- is that “it’s such a good opportunity to meet people, other rushee, who wished to remain anonymous, especially here where we’re so divided by colleges. If seems to take no issue with the lack of sorority com- you don’t have a good friend group of girls...that’s the mentary on the DKE incident. She says that she point of doing it.” Joyce has similar reasons to Katie hadn’t “really heard anything about the sexual assault and the other rushee for being excited to join a sororstuff ” from sorority members. When asked how she ity. “During first semester, everybody was pretty open felt about joining a sorority in the midst of this con- to meeting new people, but towards the end, everytroversy, the rushee responds, “I think joining makes body...found their own friend group and just started

17

sticking with it,” she explains. “I found myself doing sorority might often be, especially in the midst of the that too, and second semester I wanted to meet new allegations against DKE, at least partly based on the people and....meet more upperclassmen.” reputation of the frat associated with it. Katie is more direct, explaining that because of all she’s heard, she The rushees all think of Yale sororities as fundamen- would avoid DKE parties at all costs—at least for the tally different from those at state schools. In most time being—and expects many other sorority memcases, this perceived difference is what compelled bers would, too. them to rush in the first place. Katie sees Yale sororities as more “open” and “less competitive” than the Engender, perhaps unsurprisingly, doesn’t believe it’s “preppy and exclusive” sororities at other schools. The an issue of good frats and bad frats, and insists that anonymous rushee mentions that her “friends at big sororities are inextricably a part of the problem. In state schools needed to buy Canada Goose jackets to the opinion of Gabe Roy and his fellow communicaget into a sorority,” but on the first day of Yale rush, tions director Ellie Singer, BF ’21, sororities “uphold “everybody wears the same thing, coats and bags are an outdated segregationist gender binary and prop up left outside.” Joyce made the decision to rush because fraternities.” Engender views the entire system, in its Yale sorority members depart from her typical image preservation of single-gender spaces, as an inherently of “a sorority girl.” “oppressive structure.”

It’s true that Yale sororities are different. But this difference hasn’t entailed a willingness to call out fraternities’ most reprehensible actions. Indeed, sororities at Yale might be more “inclusive” than those at other schools, but their reluctance to comment on issues that directly affect their home institution suggests that they haven’t entirely abandoned a focus on keeping up appearances.

Clearly, there are reasons that sorority members are hesitant to join the public conversation about fraternities’ sexual misconduct. However, rushees seem to forgive this silence, asserting that sororities are more than fraternities’ counterparts and that they are likely reckoning with issues of sexual misconduct in private. Reasons to remain silent are understandable, but when it comes to DKE’s record of highly misogynistic and abusive actions, it’s hard not to want groups of As for the type of party Dean Chun described, Ka- women to publicly register their discontent—assumtie, Joyce and the anonymous rushee say they haven’t ing they feel it. run into anything like it. In fact, Katie recalls an incident at LEO where a very drunk girl was helped home by members of the frat. She sees value in the brotherhood fostered by a fraternity, just like in the sisterhood she seeks, and she looks forward to having the chance to meet frat brothers in a non-party setting once she joins a sorority. The anonymous rushee is similarly enthusiastic about making connections with fraternity members. She asserts that the link to frats “provides a gateway to meeting… and forming connections with more people” at “date functions and formals.”

Still, in both Katie and the anonymous rushee’s comments, there seems to be, an understandable caution against speaking too highly of all frats. The latter said it was “unfair to judge all frats by these incidents” and proposed “doing research about which sororities match with which frats...if that matters to you.” Her comment suggests that the decision to join a certain

Indeed, sororities at Yale might be more “inclusive” than those at other schools, but their reluctance to comment on issues that directly affect their own institutions suggests that they haven’t entirely abandoned a focus on keeping up appearances.

CULTURE The Ontological Point of a Grain Bowl MARIAH KREUTTER, BK ’20 YH STAFF

I

really didn’t want to like the Atticus grain bowl. For one thing, it costs ten dollars (thirteen if you add avocado). For another, I’ve felt vaguely guilty about going to Atticus ever since the 2016 Unidad Latina en Acción boycott over alleged wage theft. But, like most of my fellow ethically lazy bourgeoisie, I don’t feel enough guilt to stop buying cheap coffee and expensive bread, at least not since the initial boycott ended and I stopped worrying about someone critiquing my praxis behind my back. I’ve eaten many an Atticus grain bowl in my day, and I have to admit: that shit really does slap.

The menu describes it as “quinoa, farro, cilantro oil, fried egg, radish, pickled carrots & shallots,” and that sum of parts genuinely adds up to something more. The grains are hearty and chewy, the egg is a perfect mix of creamy and crispy, and the pickled vegetables add some much-needed funk and acid to the dish (did … did anyone watch “Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat”? Just me?). It is, in a word, balanced. It’s also globalization in a bowl: quinoa is native to the Andes (where indigenous communities are facing shortages of their staple crop), farro comes from the Fertile Crescent, cilantro is native to southern Europe and northern Africa, radishes pre-date the Roman empire in Europe, carrots probably originated in Persia, pickling might date back to the ancient city of Mohenjo Daro in what is now Pakistan, and if you get avocado—and you should definitely get avocado—then South Central Mexico, too, is brought into the fold.

Ever since “grain bowls” started popping up on trendy brunch menus across America, they’ve been characterized by an overabundance of alleged superfoods and overly complicated presentation strategies. “Grain bowl” doesn’t sound sexy. It doesn’t sound all that appetizing, either. And it absolutely does not sound luxurious—“grains in a bowl” seems more like something Oliver Twist would be disciplined for requesting than anything you could visualize Emma Stone eating at an LA sidewalk cafe. So how did we get here? How did we end up in a world where grains and vegetables in a bowl cost ten dollars? And why am I willing to pay for it?

Or do you? Because it turns out the Atticus grain bowl, at least, is not that hard to replicate. All you need is a few relatively cheap ingredients and an hour on Sunday to meal prep, or, as I like to call it, “gentrify leftovers.”

Here’s what you need ahead of time: • 1 cup of farro, barley, quinoa, brown rice, or other whole grain, or a mix of several • Water • Salt • 1 large red onion • 1 large carrot • Other crisp, hearty vegetables (optional) You can use anything crisp and tough enough to withstand the vinegar (like radishes, cucumbers, asparagus, or broccoli) but I definitely recommend carrots and onions, for authenticity and for flavor. Any kind of onion will work, but red is best since it turns a lovely bright pink color.

• Neutral, light-colored vinegar, like rice, white, or apple cider • Sugar Here’s what you need to do: Make the farro • Cook the cup of grains according to the directions on the package. For farro, which is what I used, this means: • Boil 2 cups of salted water • Add the farro • Cover the pot and reduce the heat to a simmer • Cook until the liquid is absorbed, about 40 minutes.

• One cup dry will yield 3 cups cooked. Be sure to taste often—you want some chew.

Make the pickled vegetables • Chop the vegetables into a size that you feel comfortable eating.

• Add the veg to a jar or Tupperware—it doesn’t have to be fermentation grade, we’re not doing anything crazy. Just something relatively sturdy that closes.

• Pour in enough vinegar to cover the vegetables.

• Add a pinch of salt and a pinch of sugar.

It all comes down to one thing, which is that grain bowls • Put the grains and the veg in the fridge for another day. are complicated. They require lots of fiddly ingredients Let the vegetables pickle at least overnight, but it doesn’t and many different components prepared in a ton of difmatter that much—they’re ready to eat when you are. ferent ways. They need to be crunchy and salty and fatty and creamy and soft and sweet, all at once, all the time. When you’re ready to eat your grain bowl, you’ll need: A stew is not a grain bowl. Neither is a salad. The entire ontological point of a grain bowl is that you don’t have time • Aforementioned grains to make it yourself.

• Aforementioned pickled veg • 1 egg

18 THE YALE HERALD

• • • •

Olive oil ½ lemon Black pepper ½ normal avocado, or a whole miniature Trader Joe’s one (optional but recommended)

What you do: • Heat up the grains in the microwave. About 1 cup is good for a bowl.

• Dress with olive oil, lemon juice, and black pepper when it’s hot.

• Slice the avocado and plate it as dramatically as your heart desires.

• Fry the egg. Everyone has their own method, but if you need a refresher: place a nonstick pan on medium heat, then add a tablespoon or so of olive oil. Let it heat up for a second. Crack the egg, season with salt and pepper, and cover. It’s ready when the whites are fully opaque, which usually takes about a minute.

• Slide the egg into the bowl and top with the pickled vegetables. Maybe add another glug of olive oil or a twist of black pepper, who cares.

This isn’t an exact approximation of the Atticus grain bowl—you may notice I completely elided the cilantro oil, and I didn’t miss it—but it’s a shockingly easy, healthy, and delicious meal that makes a great rushed lunch. And I promise it doesn’t cost ten dollars, and that eating it won’t in any way endorse wage theft.

19 My Favorite Yale Library Sucks D

oes the Reference Library of the Yale Center for British Art (YCBA) have a long-winded name? Bet. Was it designed by a lauded modernist who had three children with three women and never told any family about the others? For sure. Is its location convenient only for JE kids? You know it.

The museum is Cartesian in proportion; four floors are each cordoned off into twenty-square-foot bays, ten lengthwise and six across. The Reference Library is five bays long by two bays wide, tucked into the far side of the museum’s second floor. To reach it, you ascend a square staircase circumscribed in a concrete cylinder (dystopic but appealingly angular), exit and double back around the cylinder to the Library If you head over to the YCBA to bang out a Court (grandiose and marvelous), where shortly you last-minute p-set, you’ll have to go home when it encounter a door with a glossy steel handle. Enterhits 4:30 pm. And even if you do gain access to this ing the library, you scribble your name on the sign-in sacred space, you will not, in fact, be able to eat, sheet and then find a spot at one of the many white drink water, or see anything out of the window but oak tables and carrels. the SigEp backyard—which should be deterring enough on its own.

The reference library calls for abundantly precise description: the tables are white oak, the floor oatBut I love this space, cherish this space, and plan my meal wool carpeting segmented by a band of travschedule around being in this space. I’ve spent three ertine marble, the triangular wall behind the staff of my cumulative three study hours this semester in desk stainless steel untouched since it left the facthe Reference Library because, in spite of the hassle, tory rollers, so as to better accentuate its irregulariit is a wonderful place to work. ties in color and texture. Each region has a specific function, so that to one side of the travertine band The YCBA occupies the vast majority of the block you find the served spaces of the reading room, on delineated by Chapel, York, Crown, and High streets. the other the servant spaces of the book stacks. The

ANIKA BHARGAVA, BF ’21

T

BRIANNA WU, MC ’21

former presses against the wall, where fixed panels of Venetian blinds slide into and out of view, depending on scholars’ preferences. The warm and soft composition of the reading room offsets the stacks, where fluorescent lights and metal bookshelves underscore utility.

The YCBA’s Chief Librarian, Craig Binkowski, has written extensively on his workplace of over 10 years.

Reading one of his articles, I found a quote by Louis Kahn, the museum’s architect, on the subject of libraries: that they should be spaces where “readers… take the book and go to the light.” Such a belief is legible in the Reference Library, if not literally materialized. And, theory aside, there will always be something compelling about the weird accumulation of soft and hard, natural and fluorescent, and light and a-little-less-light contained in the Reference Library.

So I’ll keep coming back here, to a friendly staff and gentle silence and material comfort, even if my favorite Yale library sucks.

In Proximity to the Floods

he room was silent, but my ears were filled with “Before the Deluge” probes the differences between the roar of flowing water, the screams of desper- the types of floods that humans face, both ancient ate men, and the sound of distant gunfire. and modern. Floods sent by God are not endings, but rather new beginnings for the human race. They carI walked into “Before the Deluge,” an exhibit at the ry a grain of hope amidst the chaos and destruction.

Yale Center for British Art, expecting to see a room Even the helpless soldiers of WWI believed that the full of paintings mostly featuring Noah and the Abra- war they fought would be the end of all wars, and thus hamic God, and maybe even epic floods from other nurtured hope throughout the flood of brutality and religions. What I found, though, was a striking dis- mass destruction. play of religious stories of deluge placed beside scenes of climate change and World War I. One plaque describing “The Deluge,” a print made in 2001, contains a quote from its artist John Goto: Floods from religious stories carry themes of human “Tomorrow’s poor,” he said, “will live by the scenic helplessness in the face of divine power. Noah was water’s edge.” Groto’s print depicts a British landable to survive only because God took pity on him, scape reminiscent of the landscape tradition of the but no other creature on Earth stood a chance against 18th century with its dreary and foreboding tones. the power of the deluge. The message of both history Goto’s landscape, however, does not portray a water’s and the exhibit is clear: humans will always be pow- edge but presents a scene almost entirely underwaerless against floods, whether literal or metaphorical. ter. A rusted car and overactive smokestacks draw the

viewer’s attention. A woman and child, frozen in motion, run in desperation, but whether they are running toward something or running away from the water remains unclear.

With Biblical stories of floods presented alongside apocalyptic scenes and brutally war-torn landscapes, “The Deluge” forces us to think about how humans have brought about the end of our own world. We have polluted and razed and depleted the world for the sake of production; we have bombed, gassed, and shot ourselves into oblivion.

We have, in other words, inundated ourselves with our own floods. It seems that we ourselves have played the role of God in creating our Flood. In our story, though, there will likely be no Noah’s Ark to carry our hopes.

REVIEWS HELEN TEEGAN, MC ’19 YH STAFF

W

hen people ask me what I like about Black Mirror, I tell them that I’m drawn to the show’s dark, satirical tone and its forecast of a technology-induced apocalypse. But, while Black Mirror storylines play like nightmares fraught with the most frightening and ethically-questionable uses of technology, its episodes contain, like many lived-through horrific experiences, moments when things seem to have the potential to start looking up–moments when protagonists are presented with a choice. Dismayingly, or, as some might say, inevitably, the protagonists choose incorrectly.

But the choice, or at least some semblance of choice, is still there.

Those who expected a new season of Black Mirror this winter were instead surprised with an interactive, standalone film, “Bandersnatch.” The latest installment capitalizes on the longing for choice and the subsequent longing to reverse choices made, and then ultimately turns these choices over to us, the audience.

new interface before the choices posed to Stefan escalate in both scale and consequence. Stefan becomes obsessed with all aspects of Bandersnatch. He laments the errors in his program, his frustration so visceral that neither choice in Brooker’s binary branches seems rational. The audience must decide between Stefan smashing his keyboard or Stefan spilling tea over his computer and destroying all his work. After navigating more pathways, it also becomes clear that no single choice or combination of choices lends itself to a particularly cheery outcome. This, however, feels familiar. As with almost every Black Mirror episode, there exist only bleak endings and bleaker ones.

In taking on this interactive format, “Bandersnatch” screams novelty, but sacrifices one of its principal traits.

Black Mirror has an uncanny, if not exemplary, way of tying together complex storylines in endings that feel complete, even if despairingly so. After a regular season release, fans usually flock to their internet haunts to comment on its despair. But, after “Bandersnatch,” flowcharts mapping Stefan’s possible pathways flooded Twitter. Unfortunately, this multiplicity of “Bandersnatch” lightens the weight of each ending and the summation of endings falls short of packing the show’s usual punch. Viewers are given ten seconds to pick between choices, which makes Stefan’s decisions become marked pauses in the film’s runtime.

The clickable decisions for Stefan that appear on our screens diminish the believability of the filmed scenes and remind us that we are watching events play in a fictitious world. And, in fictitious worlds, we have less at stake.

The protagonist of “Bandersnatch” is a young programmer named Stefan, whose ambition is to create the perfect video game adaptation of the episode’s eponymous “Choose Your Own Adventure” novel. The film itself adopts this interactive framework, as showrunners Charlie Brooker and Annabel Jones present the audience with a series of binary choices, which serve to dictate the protagonist’s behavior. When Stefan sits down for breakfast, the audience chooses what cereal he will eat. When Stefan takes out his DVD player on a bus ride, the audience picks the music he will play. When Stefan goes to a record store, In “Bandersnatch,” Black Mirror writers eschew plot immersion in lieu of creating a meta-commentary on free the audience decides what vinyl he will buy. will and the medium of television itself. This is not to These minor decisions are just a warm-up. They let say that the episode doesn’t lose all of its characteristic audience members adjust their viewing habits to Netflix’s sharpness. At one point, Stefan asks his programmer idol,

Sex Education S

ex is ubiquitous in entertainment. For such an oft-depicted subject, however, there remain many sexual realities that go undiscussed in Hollywood. Netflix’s Sex Education addresses many of the narratives absent from mainstream discussions of sex and intimacy. Set in a British high school, Sex Education follows Otis Milburn; his mother Jean, a sex therapist; and a few of Otis’s classmates and friends. Season 1 is unapologetic, funny, complex, and thoughtful.

Starting off with the first vibrations of Episode 1’s sex scene, the show fearlessly tackles sexual dysfunction issues, homosexuality, homophobia, sexting, and masturbation.

Otis and his friend/love interest, Maeve Wiley, recognize their school’s need for sexual help and start a clinic. These issues are not discussed for shock value; we get to see Otis and Maeve offer thoughtful, judgement-free guidance through their own sexual confusions and mishaps. For 20 THE YALE HERALD

example, when Adam Groff (the headmaster’s son) fakes an orgasm with his girlfriend because he can’t finish, Otis and Maeve talk him through the possible psychological roots of his problem. The viewer is just as happy as Adam when he finally cums!

Many of the frank words about sex can be attributed to Otis’s mother, Jean. Played by Gillian Anderson, Dr. Jean Milburn is a sex icon in her own right. Usually women above 50 are not portrayed as sexual agents, yet Jean is overflowing with sexual power and agency.

Although she’s way too nosy about her son’s life, Jean de-stigmatizes sex, contributing to the show’s positive and open sexual culture.

Beyond the importance of promoting more sexual honesty, Sex Education is super entertaining. From the moment when, in solidarity against slut-shaming, dozens

Colin Ritman, which ending of the Bandersnatch book he got. To this, Ritman cheekily replies, “all of them.” Other moments see “Bandersnatch” breaking the fourth wall or basking in a doozy acid trip that unfolds like an homage to Aldous Huxley’s The Doors of Perception.

It is difficult to play through “Bandersnatch” without feeling as if the control given to you comes with an eerie sense of cruelty. Such is the case when you have the power to dictate someone else’s decisions from the comfort of your own couch. The audience plays God to Stefan’s fate, a role that grows increasingly wearying as one runs into more dead-ends and less-than-optimal outcomes. The ability to choose is less exciting when there appears to be no way to choose better. Even the chance to reverse decisions, like going back to the point of last save in a video game, brims with futility. This, of course, plays directly into the hands of Black Mirror and its nihilistic tendencies.

A day after the episode came out, my friend joked over text about the number of people who must have spent hours trying to get to each ending. To this, I replied, “ha. totally not me.” But, the fact was I had indeed spent ample time trying to get Stefan to an ending that might break, or at least brush against, the show’s nihilistic seal. When Stefan is offered the choice between chopping up his father’s body or simply burying it in the garden, I realized that I should just cool it with the optimism.

“Bandersnatch” is said to have two and a half hours of unique footage. Its official runtime is listed as one and a half. At this point Netflix gives viewers the option to skip to credits. I suppose that the writers expected people to tire from watching their protagonist bang his head against the wall and decided to give them the choice to exit.

LENA GALLAGER, JE ’21 YH STAFF of students insist that a circulating nude photo depicts their vagina to when Otis’s best friend, Eric, teaches popular kids how to give better head, the show’s creators add a lot of comedy to high school drama. That lightness helps to counter the show’s more somber moments. In Episode 5, when Eric and Otis are supposed to go see Hedwig and the Angry Inch together, Otis abandons Eric to help Maeve, leaving Eric to walk home alone in drag.

It’s difficult to watch when two homophobes assault Eric.

Despite the horror of some scenes, I think my favorite element of Sex Education is the nuance to each character.

In the scene where Eric is assaulted, you feel for Eric, for his trauma and pain. You feel for Otis, who somewhat selfishly succumbed to the charms of young love. Each character is humanized, complicated, and multifaceted, making Sex Education an honest portrayal of human intimacy, adolescence, and sexuality.

21 Vampire Weekend: “Harmony Hall” and “2021” T

hough their manifestations vary, vampires exist in the mythologies across the globe and date back to the Ancient Greeks, with the young adventurer Ambrogio who was cursed to burn at even one drop of Apollo’s light. And in the spirit of such sun-averse figures, Vampire Weekend’s two new singles, “Harmony Hall” and “2021,” from their forthcoming LP, Father of the Bride, dropped on a sunless, wet morning last Thursday.

clear: the band’s resurrection would not be—as ascribed by myth—half-hearted. Vampire Weekend, now indie veterans, are not simply undead—they’re alive and flourishing. The track is light, airy, and liberated. The instrumentation turns on a dime, often via jump cuts, and a menagerie of synths, filtered guitars, and voices deliver the song’s infectious melodies and meandering lyrics. And while it may come off as clean—maybe too clean—Vampire Weekend’s sound was never all that dirty, and “Harmony I was sitting opposite a wall of windows in the Watson Hall” is a tour-de-force of alt-pop.

Center, as waves of students clambered through the door and made feeble attempts to wring out the dampness of The single’s B-side, “2021,” is more of a vignette, running the morning’s downpour. The rain fell in waves, carpet- about a minute-and-a-half. It’s endearing and weird, bombing the small ocean that filled Watson’s courtyard. marked by the pitch-shifted refrain and music-box It was miserable. And then I hit play. Call me a romantic, synthesizers. It’s unlike anything the band has released but I swear the rain began to fall in 32nd notes, dotting before, but its quirkiness is not compensating for any lack “Harmony Hall’s” percussive opening guitar riff with a of substance. Koenig’s delivery is again effortless, carrying pointillist high-end. Lead singer Ezra Koenig’s voice the song’s lyrics—on the periphery of themes of age and entered the painting, smooth yet matured. It became change—with levity.

ERIC KREBS, JE ’21 YH STAFF

Both “Harmony Hall” and “2021” deal with themes of time, and rightly so. It’s been six years since Modern Vampires of the City (MVotC) was released, and in that time, Rostam left the band, Koenig had a kid with Rashida Jones, and Vampire Weekend entered the indie pantheon.

Though “Harmony Hall” borrows a lyric from “Finger Back,” a song on MVotC, it feels less like recycling than rebirthing, allowing a changed world to alter the line’s meaning. Koenig acknowledges that “copper goes green, steel beams go rust,” and, rather than hiding from time and trying to fit into his old Columbia sweater, he looks both backwards and forwards with a sense of peace. The group is no longer the blog darling they were a decade ago, and they will never be again. But that’s okay. Time passes, things crumble, the world changes. But even if the world that Vampire Weekend has re-emerged in sucks, as long as the album is coming out, as long as there is new Vampire Weekend to look forward to, as put in “Harmony Hall,” “I don’t wanna live like this, but I don’t want to die.”

EMMA CHANEN, BK ’19 YH STAFF

Y

ou are no doubt hearing it in dining halls or whispered in libraries across campus since returning from break: “Have you seen the Fyre docs yet?” To those of you living under rocks (who is delivering your Herald, pray tell?), streaming titans Netflix and Hulu both released documentaries this January on the notorious catastrophe of 2017: the Fyre Festival. (Hulu, knowing Netflix’s release date, dropped their doc four days before.) This past Sunday, my friend convinced me to watch the Netflix doc, and as it began, she reminded me that Hulu had also dropped a 90 minute doc. “Yeah but there’s simply no way I’m watching back-to-back documentaries on this ridiculous phenomenon,” I spat with disdain. Three hours later, I had made myself a liar.

What can I say? I couldn’t look away. These documentaries were like...well, like something on Fyre (I’m sorry).

The basic story is this: Billy McFarland, “entrepreneur” of dubious origins, somehow convinced rapper Ja Rule to launch an app through which regular shmoes could book high level talent for events. You want The Black Eyed Peas at Daniel’s Bar Mitzvah? No? It’s not 2009? Okay, well pretend you did. Look no further than the Fyre app. That was the pitch. Some genius in the marketing department of this app suggested the festival as a promotional stunt and Billy ran with it. All the way to the Bahamas. I won’t

say more because I’m recommending you watch both— In the Hulu documentary, they ask a marketing guy who he yes both—documentaries. Here’s why: thinks is guilty. Everyone, he says. Yeah, no shit. The twist is that the Netflix doc was in part produced by the media The Netflix doc, Fyre: The Greatest Party That Never team that worked on the festival ( Jerry Media, yes the Happened, is flashier. It’s about how the festival fell apart. company spawned from the Instagram @fuckjerry). They It revels in Billy’s failure. How did this happen, you ask? may have been in it to defend themselves (we were victims Netflix will tell you. How could this happen? Hulu’s too!), but they end up looking like destructive morons Fyre Fraud will tell you. Hulu is more concerned with more than anything else. In the Netflix documentary, the sociocultural landscape that allowed for this kind no one really takes on accountability, but more than one of scam. They interview more journalists than Fyre interviewee says, “At this point, he was either an idiot or employees. And they’re more concerned with Billy’s the smartest guy in the room.” Isn’t that all we need to psyche. This is one of the starkest contrasts between know about who was complicit? the two docs because Hulu managed to get Billy (and his model girlfriend) to appear in the doc. Now So watch Fyre: The Greatest Party That Never Happened before you decide that this is a huge selling point, be to get the nuts and bolts of what happened. Then watch warned: Billy doesn’t actually say much. Rather than Fyre Fraud to get the more academic breakdown. But be getting the scoop from Billy, they use him as a tool prepared to have Fyre nightmares after the binge. Because against himself in order to demonstrate just what an the story of Fyre isn’t just a hilarious one about rich irredeemable pathological liar he is. He’s indefensible, millennials getting scammed out of their parents’ money. but we don’t need Hulu smashing us over the head with It’s the story of just how much a white man with a little his sociopathy to know he’s the villain. We obviously knowledge of start up culture, a smidge of social media know he’s the villain. What the Netflix documentary clout, and a dream can burn down with his Fyre. does so well, whether it means to or not, is show that everyone else—the putzes who went along with it all— are guilty too.

Yale University Program in Judaic Studies

presents

“Mystical Narrative and Theological Poetics: The Literary Craft of the Zohar” Presented by

Dr. Eitan P. Fishbane

Associate Professor of Jewish Thought

Jewish Theological Seminary (JTS)

February 7th, 2019 4:30pm With a Response by

Peter Cole

Senior Lecturer in Judaic Studies and in Comparative Literature Yale University Dr. Eitan P. Fishbane is Associate Professor of Jewish Thought at The Jewish Theological Seminary (JTS), specializing in the history and literature of Jewish mysticism. Fishbane earned his Ph.D. and B.A., summa cum laude, from Brandeis University, and he has served on the JTS faculty since 2006. He currently serves on the Faculty Executive Committee and the Rabbinical School Council at JTS, and as Division Chair for Jewish Mysticism at the Association for Jewish Studies (AJS). Among his published works are The Art of Mystical Narrative: A Poetics of the Zohar (Oxford University Press, 2018) and As Light Before Dawn: The Inner World of a Medieval Kabbalist (Stanford University Press, 2009). Fishbane was a 2011 recipient of the Charles A. Ryskamp Fellowship from the American Council of Learned Societies, and he was named a JTS Chancellor’s Fellow in 2015.

For additional information contact Program in Judaic Studies 451 College St., Rm. 301 Phone (203)432-0843 Fax (203)432-4889

OUR KIND

Lecture will be held at the

Whitney Humanities Center 53 Wall Street, Room 208 New Haven, CT 06511

Patron T. Spielberg

Silver Contributor Dan Feder David Applegate

Gold Contributor Abra Metz Dworkin

Donors C. Morales Ervolino Sam Lee Joshua Benton George E. Harris Laura Yao Ted Lee Michael Gerber Brendan Cottington Marisol Ryu Natasha Sarin Emily Barasch Marci McCoy

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