TYH LVI 3

The Yale Herald Volume LVI, Number 3 New Haven, Conn.

Fri., Sept. 20, 2013

From the staff I’ve been feeling some serious real-estate envy recently. No offense to my suitemates, but the obnoxious New Yorker in me has been craving off-campus life since I stayed at a friend’s house on Dwight Street during Bulldog Days (just think of all the dinner parties you could host!). Unfortunately, I have one more year until I can finally make the move, no thanks to the friends who’ve rejected my semi-serious offers of marriage. But I know that when the time to leave Yale’s nest comes, I’ll have to face some uncomfortable realities, particularly rent and other scary costs of living I probably can’t even imagine right now. In the immortal words of Destiny’s Child: “Can [I] pay my bills? Can [I] pay my telephone bills? Can [I] pay my automo-bills?”

Beyonce and I are not the only ones worrying about our bills, though. Turns out New Haven’s got financial woes, and Yale, whose status as a non-profit exempts it from paying property tax, might not be doing its part. This week, Kohler Bruno, SM ’16, investigates how much New Haven could stand to gain from Yale contributing more than the small percentage it voluntarily pays of the full taxes.

The Herald isn’t looking to bum you out completely, though. In Features, relax at the Institute Library’s pig-roast fundraiser with Maya Averbuch, BK ’16, who will tell you all about the community efforts to keep the library alive. In Voices, learn how to let go of your worries with Olivia Valdes, JE ’16. In Opinion, let loose at a frat party with Jin Ai Yap, MC ’16.

Maybe you’re the type who needs comfort food (Lucas Sin, DC ’16, recommends Tikkaway). Maybe you just need to find that special someone (Jenny Allen, JE ’16, gives you a rundown on your digital mate-seeking options). Or maybe your idea of relaxing is sitting down with your favorite weekly Yale newspaper. No matter how you’re looking to relieve some stress, the Herald’s got you covered.

Best regards, Kevin Su Reviews Editor

The Yale Herald

Volume LVI, Number 3 New Haven, Conn.

Friday, Sep. 20, 2013

EDITORIAL STAFF: Editor-in-chief: Maude Tisch Managing Editors: Micah Rodman, Olivia Rosenthal Senior Editors: Sophie Grais, Eli Mandel, Emily Rappaport, Emma Schindler, John Stillman Culture Editors: Austin Bryniarski, Katy Osborn Features Editors: Kohler Bruno, Alisha Jarwala, Lara Sokoloff Opinion Editor: Andrew Wagner Reviews Editor: Kevin Su Voices Editor: Jake Orbison Design Editors: Madeline Butler, Julia Kittle-Kamp, Christine Mi, Zachary Schiller Assistant Design Editor: Madeline Butler Photo Editor: Rebecca Wolenski BUSINESS STAFF: Publishers: Shreya Ghei, Joe Giammittorio Director of Advertising: Steve Jozkowski Director of Development: Thomas Marano Director of Finance: Aleesha Melwani Executive Director of Business: Stephanie Kan Senior Business Adviser: Evan Walker-Wells ONLINE STAFF: Online Editor: Colin Groundwater Bullblog Editor-in-chief: Micah Rodman, Jack Schlossberg Bullblog Associate Editors: Austin Bryniarski, Kohler Bruno, Navy Encinias, Lara Sokoloff, Jessica Sykes 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 send a check payable to The Yale Herald to the address below. Receive the Herald for one semester for 40 dollars, or for the 2012-2013 academic year for 65 dollars.

Please address correspondence to The Yale Herald P.O. Box 201653 Yale Station New Haven, CT 06520-1653 Email: maude.tisch@yale.edu Web: www.yaleherald.com 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 2011, The Yale Herald, Inc. Have a nice day.

Cover by Zachary Schiller YH Staff

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The Yale Herald (Sept. 20, 2013)

IN THIS ISSUE

COVER 12 Kohler Bruno, SM ‘14, delves

into the intricate web of tax dependencies between Yale University and the Elm City.

VOICES 6

David Mandelbaum, ES ‘15, sits down with Sam Shleifer, DC ‘15, to talk about sport, his work, and his life in statistics.

7

Olivia Valdes, JE ‘16, says, “whatever” as she loosens her grasp on friends, the future, and her mother’s white headband.

8

FEATURES 10

Maya Averbuch, BK ’16, attends a pig roast hosted by New Haven’s Institute Library and explains how this community gathering is oddly fitting, given the library’s history.

16

David Rossler, MC ‘17, takes a look at the newly established semi-pro New Haven Venom football team and its mission to improve life for young men in the Elm City.

OPINION: Marc DeWitt, ES ‘15, examines Yale’s culture of being emotionally “present”, and Jin Ai Yap, MC ‘16, wonders whether her feminism can be reconciled with Greek life.

CULTURE 18

With surveys and tinderviews, Jenny Allen, TC ‘16, digs into Yale’s digital dating and hookup subculture. Is Theta crush all that different from Tinder?

REVIEWS 20

Lucas Sin, DC ’15, ventures down Chapel Street to visit Tikkaway, the latest addition to the fast-casual restaurant scene in New Haven.

Also: Grouplove, MGMT, Adore, and our weekly staff list.

The Yale Herald (Sept. 20, 2013)

3

THANK GOD IT’S FRIDAY

CREDIT/D/FAIL Cr:

Zumba For the past three years, I have tried to be the best at something at Yale. Fucking finally, I have succeeded. I am best at Instagram, but no one cares about Instagram, so I am the best at partying for exercise. That’s not real? Fuck you, because it is, and I pay $40 a month so that a 5’3” Latina can tell me that by dancing along to Pitbull I am getting the best workout $40 a month can buy. I’m unsure why everyone doesn’t do this, because it’s actually the best. You’re putting yourself in a position where you can’t lose. It’s called opportunity cost. Opportunity: feeling sexy sweating in a room with 40-year old women who lack rhythm. Cost: gas to West Haven and re-living Toads every day of the week. WOADS is so over. Zumba is in. Get in while it’s still hipster.

Pro Tip: go hungover, it’ll be like the party never stopped! Just say Mama Zumba sent you.

The Herald’s week in review: what rocked, what sucked, and who took the lead in IM ping-pong.

D:

F:

Barbours Don’t you wish you could wear something that would define your entire personality as boring?

You wouldn’t even have to open your mouth because your waxed jacket could let everyone in on your little, big secret. Well, you Yalies can now rejoice, because it’s officially and unofficially fall again! You now no longer have to pretend that you like being tan. You can let that color fade, just like the color around the elbow creases of your Barbour. Whether you’re from New York City or a suburb of New York City, Yale loves you! And Yale definitely loves your classic $400 Beaufort.

But don’t even worry! Fall Barbours are just a pre-game for winter Monclers and Canada Geese!

Yippee!

—Jessica Sykes YH Staff —graphics by Madeline Butler YH Staff

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The Yale Herald (Sept. 20, 2013)

Hot TAs OK, don’t pretend that in every situation you don’t look around the room ranking everyone you see on a scale of hot to me (or you--whatever).

That’s why section is so important. It’s important because you have to be one of the top three hottest people in the room or you have to drop the class.

That’s the rule. This is the exact reason I hate Art History: there will always be hotter, richer people than you in a class about old white men who paint. I want to be that white man’s muse! What sucks more than a hot (and rich) peer is a hot TA, because your typical flirtation-for-an-A techniques won’t work. But consider this: they’ve never had to work for anything because they’re hot. They’re probably easy graders.

BY THE

BOOM/BUST

NUMBERS

TYNG CUP STANDINGS

INCOMING: Times New Roman Remember when fonts were fun? When you read The Outsiders in sixth grade, contemplated society, and wrote your book report in Apple Chancery?

Those days are done, and the fact that I wore boots with socks this week means that summer is too. The Times they are a-changin’, and our favorite New Roman is back. Lecture notes, reading responses, the reading response-paper hybrid: you name it, we’ve got it. I’ve been staring at Document 1 for twenty minutes. Three years of college and I still can’t decide on a heading. Class title or just course number? Professor’s full name?

Nine minutes till seminar, and now there’s a paper jam in Bass1 and Bass2. But have faith in the familiar: Times New Roman has your back. In good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, when you’re feeling bold and when you just want to strike out. Single-spaced, it looks hefty; double, it makes you feel accomplished. It’s no Curlz MT, but we’ll take it.

#

Berkeley Branford Calhoun Davenport Ezra Stiles Jonathan Edwards Morse Pierson Saybrook Silliman Timothy Dwight Trumbull

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

OUTGOING: Summer Fruit Here’s my theory: to the victor go the spoils, except when you lose and the fruit is rotten. There go the strawberry basil popsicles I never puréed and that yummy sangria you wanted to try. Now the blackberries look purple, and the cherries are mushy. Stop trying to make peaches happen. They’re not going to happen.

But it’s no secret that fall is the best time in New England, with its magical days of pumpkins and gourds and corn with kernels every shade of burnt sienna. Over the river and through the woods! It’s time to go apple picking (not you, iPhone) and make cranberry sauce and all things autumnal. So kiss your watermelon and feta salad goodbye, and let the hay rides begin.

— Sophie Grais YH Staff

TOP FIVE 5 4 3 2 1

Ways to stay warm when your winter shit is still at home.

INDEX 4 Number of years since Dr. George Tiller was shot and killed by an anti-abortion activist; number of doctors in the country who perform third trimester abortions.

13

Number of states that prohibit late-term abortions.

Go to Starbs and get a salted caramel mocha. It’s essentially a hot milkshake that involves espresso, steamed milk, mocha sauce, toffee-nut syrup, whipped cream, caramel drizzle, AND a mixture of turbinado sugar (da fuq?) and sea salt. Subsequent heart attacks worth it.

Avoid A&A, because the only thing more shocking than the lighting/carpet color combo is the frigid temp. It feels like you’re in a rusty refrigerator full of hipsters.

1

Percentage of abortions in America that are late-term.

70 Percentage of women seeking non-medical late-term abortions who could not afford an earlier term abortion.

14

Lightly jog everywhere.

Walk by Ezra Stiles. The building vents across from that Thai place blow out really warm steam. Surprising that there’s vapor-producing machinery inside of Bedrock, I know.

Buy a snuggie. Why did these ever go out of fashion?! They’re like fanny packs- they’re so functional, yet everyone wants to deem them a “trend”! F that.

Percentage of women getting later-term abortions who have been physically abused or raped by her partner.

Sources: a) n/a, After Tiller b) Guttmacher Institute, c) Slate, d) The Daily Beast, e) Livescience — Cindy Ok YH Staff

— Carly Lovejoy The Yale Herald (Sept. 20, 2013)

5

SITTING DOWN WITH SAM SHLEIFER

by David Mandelbaum Big data analytics, the use of computational programmiung to interpret large collections of data, is growing quickly in popularity. From Moneyball to Nate Silver, statistics are slipping into our references and thoughts. A member of Just Add Water and the men’s squash team, Sam Shleifer, DC ’15, has worked for the Detriot Pistons and currently does statistical analysis for the Chicago White Sox. This week, the Herald sat down with Sam to talk about the growing trend of big data and the ways in which statistics has seeped into his life as an athlete and improviser.

YH: What first got you interested in statistics?

SS: Being a big Red Sox fan, even in the 90’s, I was constantly having numbers thrown at me, and when I read Moneyball, that triggered some interesting thoughts. So I had been looking at things like on-base percentage and some other interesting baseball stats for a while, but going to the MIT Sloan Conference, an open colloquium about sports analytics, for the first time made me start to generate my own ideas.

YH: How have you gone about studying statistical analysis?

Has it been a big part of your Yale education, or are you mostly self-taught?

SS: I think to learn about sports statistics in a meaningful way you need to have pressure to deliver something and you need to have someone you can email to ask which function to learn in excel. Once you have those two things, the sky is the limit, and you can move really quickly. I didn’t have either of those things for a while. When I first became interested, I would copy and mast data into excel, and struggle. Then, when I had a boss for the Pistons, I was working under deadlines and firm instructions, which was really useful. At Yale I think it’s true that without deadlines, you don’t really move.

YH: What was your job with the Pistons?

SS: They had the ninth draft pick going into that year [2012], and they were trying to determine who they wanted to take.

My job was to try to make a model given the professional output of college players. What was hard about that was adjusting for the relative strength of a given team game schedule in careful ways. They ended up drafting Andre Drummond, who had a pretty good season, even though no draft models liked him that year. He was shooting 28 percent on free throws.

YH: You’re also currently working for the White Sox, right?

SS: Yeah. Analytics in baseball are now all about what’s going on in the strike zone, in those however-many inches above home plate: the angle the ball is coming, the speed of the ball, the speed of the bat, the pitch location—all that is really what’s being analyzed. They were looking for some undergrad to do some quantitative and statistical analysis, and I came up. I have only been with them for a week now, but it’s a really interesting dataset. I didn’t know R [a programming language and software environment for statistic computing]—I was basically using a ton of excel and a little Stata, but now I’m learning R, which is just massively powerful. And it’s great because

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The Yale Herald (Sept. 20, 2013)

Maude Tisch/YH you can make beautiful pictures, because you can convince people who don’t like math.

YH: Utilizing big data in sports like baseball and basketball has become hugely popular. Why do you think it’s had a smaller impact on other sports like soccer and football?

SS: The basic reasons are the big number of players not touching the ball and the even bigger number of players on the field at one time. And on top of that, there is not as big of a European data culture. Here, there might not be as much data as people like me would want, but even in the 80’s you had the batting average flashing at the bottom of the screen.

We’re moving in the direction of more data, and baseball is just perfect for it because it’s easier to find trends when you have a lot of isolated, one-on-one interactions with a clear winner. Once Dean Oliver convinced people of that fact, we found trends really quickly. I think that the next step for looking at football will be to analyze the one-on-one battles between offense and defense (receiver and cornerback, O-line and D-line, etc.). There’s a lot of progress to be made.

YH: Do you think every factor of sports performance can be modeled adequately using statistics, or are there some intangibles that can’t be modeled?

SS: You try to model everything and try not to act confident. There are tons of studies about how overconfidence in estimations makes for the worst and how one should never trust overconfident forecasters. You just try to understand the baseline power of your model. I’m not going to try to predict how the Pacers bench plays against the Bucks bench when they have three players on ten-day contracts—it would just never be accurate.

Soccer’s tough, for example. I got some data from OPTA [a sports data resource], which showed completed passes, cuts the field into three sections, and has some more advanced xy coordinate stuff. But I’m not good enough to unlock it yet.

The problem with soccer stats is that you have these various theories: you see big correlations between pass completion and winning, and you see pretty clearly that turnovers in your own third lead to goals at an alarming rate. A short, frequent passing strategy may seem effective because it leads to a lot of goals scored, but you need to look at how it effects getting scored on. It’s attractive to look at goals because there are so few of them, and they’re exciting, but you have to look at real games in convincing ways and think about what it means for your model.

YH: Most of the methods used today in sports analysis were advanced in the past decade. Where do you see the field going in the next five to ten years?

SS: In baseball, we’re looking over the plate; in basketball, they’re looking spatially at the court. I think we’re going to see interesting stuff in how we look at passing, but one big thing that’s developing is how we look at practice. In the NBA especially (I don’t know if it’s the case in other sports, but I assume it’s the same), there’s no real formula for how to get your

players to perform on game day. They might be overworked, under-worked, or just not practicing the right things. Do you want to allocate practice time based on how much a situation comes up in games or based on how difficult it is? How hard are players really working during practice? You will probably start to see correlations between how hard a guy works in practice and how hard he worked in the next game and alter rotations accordingly.

YH: Do you find yourself thinking about any of this stuff when you’re playing on the squash team?

SS: I try to boil it down—a big thing is unforced errors. In squash, the low risk thing to do is getting the ball to the back of the court, so I try to think about getting the ball back there and getting out of the way. I guess, you could say that those are statistically inclined things to be thinking, but I’m not thinking of it in regression terms while I’m out there. I don’t think anyone ought to. That’s not the goal of analytics, to get people to think like that. What you think while you’re out there is the domain of sports psychologists.

YH: This summer, comedian Aziz Ansari said in an interview that on his new show, called “Work in Progress,” he collected demographic data on the audience to analyze how different jokes appealed to different cohorts. Given that you’re in Just Add Water, how do you feel about using this kind of datadriven approach to humor?

SS: In JAW, there is an interesting data piece: you’re going to find that if one person laughs, the probability of everyone else in the crowd laughing is doubled, or something like that.

Demographics would be interesting. And if you look at demographics, you’d probably see that JAW does strikingly similar things at nursery schools and at Yale—when we’re out there we’re doing the same damn thing. But that is again, moving into psychology.

YH: Do you feel like you watch sports differently now than you used to?

SS: Absolutely. The stuff you’re asking about mindset has all changed for me. Even my friend Chris, a South African dude who’s really bad at basketball, now when he’s watching a game with me says you can’t be taking long twos. You try to see what’s really going on, and you try to see where guys are without the ball.

YH: Do you think it’s something everyone should be learning and is it available at Yale?

SS: They should be able to if they want. If they don’t want to, they don’t want to. There are a lot of happy people who don’t know anything about statistics. I like statistics. I’d encourage everyone to at least give it a shot. But one thing about Yale is that I want a little help learning R. I’m not great at it, and I don’t know where to get it; it’s not very easy. Office hours are during practice. There’s definitely room for more statistics at Yale.

—This interview was condensed by the author

ANTI-CLING

by Olivia Valdes

I

loaned someone a headband for Safety Dance last September. It was white and ribbed and actually my mom’s, and the point was to wear it when you took off your makeup and wanted to keep your hair out of your face. I never used it that way, or used it at all, and this guy wanted to look more 80’s, so I gave him the headband and he wore it and I forgot to ask for it back.

cooking our own food. We talked about our friends, this pieced-together group with a bizarre and loving and possibly insular dynamic, with its own worn-in sociolect and constant back-referencing to jokes made months ago. These people give emotional structure to my time here, where so much seems impossible to grasp. One finds oneself slipping in and out of “extracurriculars,” losing and regaining academic focus, altering amorphous future plans over and over again. But my friends are here, pretty much always, flopping onto chairs in the common room, snapchatting me during classes, taking each other out for birthday dinners.

They are the things I most want to hold onto. They are the things to which I am most attached.

I STARTED READING BUDDHIST-THEMED self-help books in an attempt to excise the anxiety I’ve always worried is weirdly central to my character. I had already been getting into mindfulness and meditation when someone recommended this book called It’s Easier Than You Think: The Buddhist Way to Happiness as supplemental reading.

Spiritual guidance, I thought, might be of use, in whatever form it came.

EVERY FEW MONTHS I RE-REMEMBER THE headband situation. Something reminds me (a suitemate asking to borrow a hair tie, someone beating the long-dead Safety-Dance-cancellationjoke horse) and I run through the same thought process again and again. Asking him about the headband a few weeks after Safety Dance would’ve been weird but perhaps acceptable; asking about it now would be absurd.

Even still, I sometimes catch myself thinking: well, okay, couldn’t I just send him a quick email? Who would it hurt?

I get unsettled, panicky, at being separated from this thing I once possessed. I don’t need the headband. It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter. Still, I continue to cling.

IN IT’S EASIER THAN YOU THINK’S VAGUELY SPIRITUAL, mostly pragmatic interpretation of Buddhism, Sylvia Boorstein writes that the First Noble Truth tells us, “pain is inevitable.” But, she continues, suffering is avoidable. This much I believe. I believe there are people among us who can transcend, who can pass coolly through periods of grief and stress and frustration and emerge on the other side with no permanent damage.

IN NINTH GRADE, A COMPOSED, HYPER-ARTICULATE girl I desperately wanted to emulate suggested that her neutral emotional state, the feeling she felt most of the time every single day, was serenity. And as much as my response to this claim was what the fuck, because at 14 I was the antithesis of serenity—confused and puffy haired and super alienated from my body—I believed her. I believe it is possible to step back from one’s neuroses serenely and say yeah, those are my neuroses, and I’m going to not give a shit about them right now. Or to step back from a painful experience and say yeah, this is really painful, but I am aware of my pain and will not allow myself to make this hurt any worse. Maybe suffering is avoidable.

OF THE SECOND NOBLE TRUTH, BOORSTEIN WRITES, “clinging is suffering.” That is to say, to want to hold onto

something is to suffer. To put your all your eggs in the basket of some tenuous, potential future is to suffer. To really, really want anything at all is, essentially, to suffer.

So if suffering is avoidable, it’s only avoidable through a total cessation of clinging and a willingness to “let the world move through you,” acknowledging that you’re small and vulnerable and time goes on and on, and literally nothing that happens to you will be the end of the world.

THE HEADBAND STORY IS NEITHER THE FIRST NOR last example of my own anxious, anti-zen clinging. There’s the time I, at age six, sprinted away from my parents and through the Library of Congress clutching a Styrofoam cafeteria tray (I couldn’t imagine leaving without that mayonnaise-scented souvenir of our lunch at the library, and my mom said no, so I peaced out). Another panic came when it was time to choose a college and I realized that, by picking one, I was closing the door on the hundreds of never-to-be-heard-from-again futures of other schools.

The dissatisfaction I can always see coming, the disappointment in reality never quite matching the expectations I build and build in my head. I am a clinger of an enormous magnitude. I am sentimental, bad with change, afraid to lose anything. Serenity isn’t my neutral state. It’s not as easy as Sylvia Boorstein thinks.

My friend Andy and I had a long conversation in the JE library a few weeks ago. In the empty library, we talked about living off-campus and finding apartments and

POST-BOORSTEIN, LETTING GO IS more manageable than one might at first imagine. It feels fine, even good, to say whatever in an active way. Rationed your Sabra wrong so you’re out of pretzels before you’re out of hummus? Whatever. Majoring in lit means you probably won’t be a computer programmer or a pop star or a physicist? Whatever. Stumbled inarticulately through another idea in seminar? Whatever, whatever, whatever. Whatever becomes an empowering decision, an act of choosing to be okay with life, to be okay with wherever you’re going and wherever you end up. This is not your typical, passive whatever: it’s a inspired. It’s significant. Maybe “whatever” is transcendence in 2013. You are capable of passing through these and any circumstances unscathed. Maybe “whatever” is the ultimate serenity.

I think of how nice it would be to rent a big house all together next year, all my friends sitting in a kitchen doing homework, taking day-long decorating trips to Salvo and hosting dinner parties, functioning semi-responsibly like a group of just-about-adults. But in the library Andy and I came to the conclusion that everything could still change. Maybe something terrible will happen. Maybe the ever-present possibility of drift will come up out of dormancy and we’ll end up scattered across the Yale map, doing different things, meeting different people, falling into different patterns. This possibility freaks me out on a base level, but my brain knows how useless it is to either want or fear something that may or may not occur.

I am in New Haven making decisions, doing homework, starting to piece together some image of an imminent adult life. I want to do weird freaky stuff while I’m young and with it. Attachment is inevitable because there’s so much for me to want. But I love my friends right now, and maybe that needs to be the final thought. I’m doing laundry right now, and maybe that needs to be the final thought. Everything else can wait.

But, Kevin, I actually do still need that headband back.

—graphic by Madeline Butler YH Staff The Yale Herald (Sept. 20, 2013)

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OPINION GAZING BACK

by Jin Ai Yap As a self-identified feminist, I wasn’t initially sure what to make of campus Greek life. I still don’t know enough about fraternities to analyze or judge their inner workings. What I do know are their parties, which I and every other wide-eyed freshman explored for a few months in our first year at Yale. During these social gatherings, a friend and I - femaleness disguised in de-sexualizing formless garb - would look on from the sidelines, observing the garden-variety party mating rituals: coy small talk, heterosexual or female-on-female pairs dancing, gender-imbalanced weather-appropriateness of clothing.

As people and places became familiar and my hesitation dissolved, I allowed the so-called “campus party scene” to seduce me. Body-throbbing bass courses through and impels sweaty female forms in tight clothing to contorting, sensual dance, as less scantily dressed male onlookers admire and occasionally join in dancing. It’s spellbinding - who am I to deem myself above the sweet strain of a strategically (or not) placed drop? On weekends I trade my Frida Kahlo-inspired outfits and bitchface for a Toads-ready skirt and an easy smile, enjoying the freedom of slipping in and out of personas like a dress. The costume change works; aided by music and clothing that obviate the need for conversation, I blend into the Greek nightlife.

Yet occasional incidents, such as the recent shock of Yale’s casual attitude towards rape, are sobering reminders of fraternities’ reputation and track record for sexual misconduct. The unease comprises not only fear - of whether I am considered to be “asking for it” - but also feminist guilt and responsibility - of whether I am actually participating in the old narrative of females dressing up and putting on a show as male observers banter and judge. I love the liberation and validation that accompanies dancing with attractive people in a favorite outfit to a good song. But when my sexuality becomes about looking good to others rather than about my own confidence - a subtle distinction - I fear that my sexual liberation becomes mere objectification.

The only difference between the two is often intangible, determined by a mutual understanding among everyone in the room that sexuality, usually of the people performing, is

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The Yale Herald (Sept. 20, 2013)

not for anyone’s benefit but their own. Among feministleaning friends I will happily objectify myself or exaggerate my sexuality in jest, comfortable in the knowledge that they acknowledge both my humanness beyond sexuality, and the cultural context that disproportionately dehumanizes women.

But outside that philosophical safe space and the certainty that participants in conversation are socially aware, non-feminist behavior turns from ironic to unsettling.

For this reason my enjoyment of frat parties is often tinged with a wary apprehension, of being in environments seemingly devoid of feminist consciousness, and occasionally known and publicly disciplined for their disregard of female sexual agency.

In a certain sense, it might seem that I have only two options to feel comfortable: not to dance, or to first ensure that each individual at the frat has sense of basic feminist theory. I sometimes fantasize about checking with each person who watches me dance at a party: “Hey man. Just to make sure - we both understand that even though the dynamic of our interaction would appear to reflect a power imbalance in my dressing and dancing provocatively at your party while you as the host and observer are the arbiter of my attractiveness, you respect my agency and the fact that I’m dancing for my own pleasure, not as an object on display for the heterosexual male gaze. Right?”

As gratifying or at least hilarious as doing so would be, it also misses the point of feminism. There is a time and place for over-analyzing to death, and it’s not Friday night at Sig Chi, nor is it every day when I’m trying to live my life.

Putting too much thought into whether I am or am not allowed to objectify or enjoy myself is to let others’ perceptions define my choices and actions, which is the exact injustice that minorities already suffer and which feminism seeks to end. Though policing myself and my preferences may give me a false sense of righteousness, it does nothing to actually address any social issues, and more importantly, limits my enjoyment of a flawed world. It’s every feminist’s Catch22, but the only solution is to accept it and do you: so gaze all you want, but know I’m gazing back.

—graphic by Christine Mi YH Staff

YOU ARE HERE*

by Marc Dewitt

The admissions poster for the Yale Class of 2015 features an exciting selection of photos from diverse campus activities, with the bold caption, You are Here*. “Here at Yale,” the poster seems to shout, as advertised, “there is an impeccable residential college system, cutting-edge research, beautiful sunny weather, full racial integration, a dynamic learning environment overflowing with enthused and passionate students!

Everything seems endlessly exciting and everyone at every other school really wished they were here too. But they are not and you are. Everything in your life has led you to this university, every previous experience you have had a mere stepping stone towards Phelps Gate. You over-worked, over-ambitious kids have finally reached The Promised Land (but for some reason your anxiety has intensified). You are Here*.”

Not only is this sense of finality elitist, it is simply incorrect: Yale is yet a beginning of many beginnings, another step in the lifelong process of becomings. More importantly, the poster is a reflection of the dominant packaged narrative that produces the ever-pleasant salesman affability that pervades our campus. Speaking the language of the advertisement, Dean Spooner recently urged students in an e-mail to assume the “Strength that comes with being present and forthcoming in every precious moment we are at Yale.” In demanding that we are totally and fully “here” in the way Yale’s maximal ideology dictates, we equate “presence” with cheerfulness. We create assertive emotional expectations that deny the legitimacy of negativity and stimulate a straining environment of cheery social performance. The Yale-centric narcissism furthers the self-serving (and self-harming) culture of stress and productivity, whereby we feel we must exploit every second and every interaction here.

My close friend David died in a hiking accident this summer. He was planning to visit me only six days later. David is one of the most beautiful souls I’ve ever known. He was kind. He was patient. In an era marked by irony and detachment, David was remarkably committed, audacious, always sincere and truthfully appreciative. Honestly, I cannot describe the sense of shock and loss and pain I have suffered, nor is this article the place to attempt that. And two months later, as I continue to find myself vulnerable, returning to campus has been decidedly difficult for me. There have been moments where I have not quite felt the “strength” to meet the emotional demands of Yale.

I recently saw the admissions poster again and wondered if the conspicuous asterisk was a qualifier for students like me who did not feel altogether “here,” in the prescribed sense. I cynically imagined a fine print that read, “You may not be here if you struggle with mental health concerns, if your childhood friend has tragically died.”

The truth is, there are a number of us who do not feel entirely present on campus.

As I spend more time at Yale, I’m sensitive to what seems like a growing number of students who have experienced depression, or simply disillusion with the ever-buzzing campus culture. But those advocating for undying exuberance at Yale tend to regard unhappiness as a disease, and therapy or a leave of absence as quick-and-easy solutions, not another strenuous process. The often well-intentioned desire for everyone to always be happy inflicts small acts of violence that discipline our emotions, and we in turn begin to police ourselves. In anxiously reproducing the order of okayness, our campus stigmatizes mental health, creating a suffocating atmosphere for those of us who need to experience Yale at our own pace.

Over the past three weeks, I’ve been the victim of this limited and limiting notion of personal well-being. But I’ve found the most helpful way of grieving for David is simply feeling what I need to feel, and recognizing that my suffering is legitimate—in fact, healthy and important. I try not to blame myself for leaving a party early to be alone, or stepping outside the classroom for a few minutes, as I did the other day, when class discussion on death became too heavy, too recognizable. I’ve come to accept, even embrace, my suffering. Through facing and processing my emotions more honestly, I validate them and challenge the common conception of suffering as shameful and pathological.

I don’t think I would want to be in a place without suffering since through connecting with our suffering we are able to empathize with the suffering of others. We grow more compassionate, thoughtful, gentle, and tender, much like David was. We overcome the anxious desire to “solve” and bring instant closure to other people’s problems; in fact, maybe the best way we can help each other is by creating a warm and loving space so we can each ultimately find closure on our own. Perhaps you are here, but you might not be here, or possibly you are caught somewhere in between. And I’ve learned that’s okay.

Bringing home the bacon A 19th-century library brings the community together at a weekend pig roast

by Maya Averbuch

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s Jack Hitt hefted the enormous pig carcass onto a grill-side table, he said, “You know those movies where they drag a dead body across the floor?”

He struggled with the weight of the meat.

“It’s ridiculous.” He removed the garbage-bag covering and I was struck by how the legless, filleted hog looked vaguely anthropomorphic— until Hitt pulled the head out of the bag. Wearing an old pink t-shirt and a blue bandana, Hitt oiled the body with his bare hands and covered it in salt. With the help of three volunteers, he slid it onto the grill, above a cinderblock-surrounded coal bed. Looking at his handiwork, he whooped, “Yea, bud!” As Hitt prepared to wrap the entire makeshift oven in tinfoil, one of his helpers, Alex Werrell, TD ’13, who now teaches at the Hopkins School here in New Haven, turned to me and said, “I’m teaching Lord of the Flies now, and we just got to the ‘kill the pig’ chant.”

Hitt, a journalist, author, and This American Life contributor, was hosting the First Annual Flying Pig Roast for The Institute Library.

The event, which was held on Sun., Sept. 15, brought over a hundred people to Hitt’s East Rock home to raise funds for the long-standing, yet often overlooked, New Haven institution. It may seem bizarre to have a library call its bookish members, who pay $25 to use its space each year, out for lively fiddle music and Carolina-style barbeque. But for Hitt, the literary connection is simple: “The first mention of barbeque, as far as I can tell, is in Homer’s Odyssey.” He described the weary men coming back from battle to feast and added, “King Nestor had his secret formula. His was wine.

Mine is oil and salt.”

THE NEW HAVEN INSTITUTE LIBRARY WAS founded in 1826 and moved to its current Chapel Street location in the 1870s. Aside from

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The Yale Herald (Sept. 20, 2013)

the fact that the building is now sandwiched between Nim’s jewelry store and a tattoo parlor, little appears to have changed. The triangular sides of the slanted display shelves are carved elegantly, with keyhole-shaped cutouts in the middle of each unit. Round gas lamps suspended from non-functional gas pipes light the more narrow spaces. Though recent additions to the library’s modest, eclectic collection are now listed on an online database, a cabinet of mini-drawers is still filled with cards organized by the library’s original idiosyncratic filing system.

In the time of the Industrial Revolution, many of the young workingmen who flocked to cities started to form their own libraries, then

In a then conservative city that, Baker said, was “often on the wrong side of history,” the library’s founders were considered radicals.

They welcomed women into their organization early on, and later opened their doors to some of the biggest names in the anti-slavery movement, including Harriet Beecher Stowe, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Fredrick Douglas. In Baker’s romantic vision, people from all walks of life gathered in the Institute Library to take part in meaningful civil discourse and discuss pressing issues of social justice and activism.

Its 19th-century heyday, however, did not last. The city created its own public library in the 1880s, turning The Institute Library into a quiet place for readers rather than a stage

categories, causing the collection to become outdated. “If you wanted to purchase a book on carriage manufacture, you could, but if you wanted to get something about computers or cars, you could not,” Baker said.

The library strung itself along with the money in an investment fund created the century before from the donations of former members.

But the library could not stand forever on the historical pedestal it had built for itself, and at the start of the twenty-first century, it met modernity in the form of ruinous economic decline. However, the investment fund was slashed in half in 2000, and then once more in 2008.

“The library was on its way to oblivion,”

“King Nestor had his secret formula. His was wine. Mine is oil and salt.”

— Jack Hitt, Institute Library member

commonly known as mechanics’ institutes.

Across New England, the Midwest, and the British Isles, people were inspired by the model of the membership library Benjamin Franklin had promoted decades earlier.

The founders of New Haven’s institution followed in this tradition, but they were more bold: unlike all of their contemporaries, they started their collection without a patron. They discussed classical texts, held philosophical discussions on the purpose of the novel, and shared their own work. In fact, patrons who showed up empty-handed were fined the thensignificant sum of 10 cents. “It developed into the democratic heart of intellectual life in New Haven,” said Executive Director Will Baker, who spoke with astounding detail, as if he had lived through the library’s history himself.

for firebrands. Head librarian William Borden had been an innovative leader for years; due to him, the library had a unique method of book organization instead of the then-widely used Dewey decimal system. But in 1910, Borden went to India to establish a free public library system, and membership declined. Post World War II, the library operated with a skeleton crew and an uninvolved board of directors. “It stayed a sleepy, introverted institution for the next fifty years,” current board member Maryann Ott said.

Without sufficient professional direction, the book classification system started to collapse. “Books began ending up in strange places,” Baker said. One misguided librarian allegedly banned the acquisition of texts that did not fit into one of the original subject

Baker said. “It was likely that it was going to have to close.”

WHEN OTT TALKS ABOUT THE TRANSFORmation that the library has undergone in the last few years, she credits Baker: “Will was really the spark for the library’s current renaissance,” she said. Baker was raised just outside of Cleveland, but arrived on the east coast to get a master’s in Museum Studies at NYU. He acquired another, in Library Science, at Southern Connecticut State University, where he prepared his thesis on the Institute Library.

He moved to New Haven to work at a rarebooks dealer before taking charge of the library in 2011.

“It seemed to be this forgotten, irrelevant place in an age when people are becoming

anxious that physical books are being replaced

by Kindles, and libraries are becoming sort of information centers,” Baker said. But “libraries are places where moments of chance encounter can occur, people meeting each other as they’re reaching for the same book who wouldn’t have met otherwise,” he explained.

He thought that the library could be saved if it reclaimed its original identity, as a unique social space where “the whole idea of useful knowledge is explored.”

In the last few years, the library’s mem-

The Institute Library has also become more involved with the greater community, as it has started to support programs that work with New Haven students and other young New Haven residents. The library staff helped send hip-hop poet and playwright Aaron Jafferis into New Haven schools, to help students write and perform their own work. The Lucretia Society, a theater group, uses the library as a meeting space; they put on a play about sexual violence last spring with a multi-generational, all-female cast. This outreach serves two purposes:

budget, so grants, donations, lecture tickets, and innovative fundraisers must cover the rest. With the economic crisis a not-so-distant memory, the staff has found that baking caramel cakes is sometimes just as important as maintaining its book collection.

ON THE ELEGANT WHITE PORCH IN FRONT of his purple-slated house, Jack Hitt, clad in a long black apron, told the crowd the reason they were there: “When I was little, social events were not built around going to restau-

“Libraries are places where moments of chance encounter can occur, people meeting each other as they’re reaching for the same book who wouldn’t have met otherwise.”

— Will Baker, Institute Library executive director bership has skyrocketed from less than 200 to approximately 550 people, many of whom found out about the library through lectures, performances, and events it has recently organized. A Word of Mouth poetry series is held in the library, as is the monthly interview series “Amateur Hour,” which is run by library members Joshua Foer, TC ’04, and Jack Hitt, the barbeque aficionado. According to Hitt, notable Amateur Hour guests have included University of Connecticut physics professor Ron Mallett who is trying to build a time machine, and Gabriel Mesa, a thirteen-year-old boy who has invented numerous medical tools, including a magnetic tongue ring drawn to a magnetized collar that is used to cure sleep apnea.

On Mon., Sept. 23, Hitt and Foer will host a talk on quackery, or “the art of miracle cures,” as advertised in old-fashioned typeface on one of the library’s period-imitation posters.

it more generally works to draw young people into the literary arts, but also, Baker hopes, will help the library regain the wide-ranging membership base of years past.

To achieve its goal, the library’s upstairs space has also been transformed into an art gallery. Last April, Director of Undergraduate Art Studies Lisa Kereszi, ART ’00, curated an exhibition of card-size 19-century portraits taken in New Haven studios on Chapel Street.

In the future, she hopes to work with Baker on a 2015 series of exhibits about sideshows, traditional circus-like venues for sword swallowers, bearded ladies, and the like.

Despite the success of the library’s many new projects, Baker gets serious when he describes the difficulty of running a non-profit on a shoestring budget of $200,000. The hundreds of members who use the library’s resources cover only a quarter of its operating

rants, because people couldn’t afford it. But people could afford to buy a pig.” He retold the story of Nestor I had heard earlier, before he invited his guests to dine on the pig he had dropped on the grill twenty-four hours earlier.

Timothy Le, TD ’14, and friends had tended to the coals through the night and shoveled in hickory wood. Just past 3:00 a.m., Hitt woke to drink coffee and watch the thermometers that surrounded the tinfoil-wrapped hog. It emerged with a rich brown color and a subtle smoked flavor. Surrounding side tables housed macaroni and cheese and collard greens prepared by Caseus chef Jason Sobocinski. Elm City Market and Chabaso Bakery provided others sides, while homemade cakes and pies decorated the last table.

In between bites of perfectly smoked hog, many of Hitt’s guests expressed similar reasons for attending the event: to support a

unique institution that had served the New Haven community for years. Holding the remains of his pecan pie, Robert McGuire, a teacher at Southern Connecticut State University, explained that the library “Helps you connect to the history of the town.” Sherwin Borsok, a radiologist from Meriden, CT, said that he liked the “Eclectic selection of books,” highlighting the ones he had found about the history of Hollywood and, more specifically, scriptwriter Charles MacArthur. While we sat on fold-out chairs on the grass, he said, “You see all ages of people, from people in their 20s to people in their 70s…It allows a crosspollination of conversation.”

Not all of the guests were library members.

Several attendees admitted, rather sheepishly, that they knew little about the library and had just come with friends. But that’s all part of the plan: the Library raised about $10,000 through the ticket sales, and people who had never heard of it before vowed to take a look.

Combined with the $10,000 raised through an earlier July fundraiser called “Book Plates”— patrons paid $125 to attend a 20-person dinner at a restaurant with a local author—the hog fest has helped keep The Institute Library on the map.

Though a backyard barbeque and a small library are an odd pair, the quirky combination reflects the library’s multi-faceted support bas in the community in which it aged. “A pig roast is a sort of old-fashioned kind of cooking, and an old-fashioned way for people to get together and talk,” Yale English professor Caleb Smith said. “The main function of The Institute Library is just as much about being a social space, a gathering place, for people who are interested in ideas, and the pig roast is kind of an extension of that way, of being together and slowing down time.”

—graphic by Devon Geyelin YH Staff The Yale Herald (Sept. 20, 2013)

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The Yale Herald (Sept. 20, 2013)

Tax haven Kohler Bruno, SM ‘16, unpacks the intricacies of the financial relationship between Yale and New Haven and asks what the University really owes to the city.

T

ax Yale or tax you,” Wendy Hamilton shouted at me. It was around 7:00 p.m. on Tues., Sept. 10 and I was returning from dinner at Ezra Stiles when I came upon Hamilton and her husband, Jim Duarte. Megaphone slung over her right shoulder, handing out fliers, she had all the regalia of a full time street activist. In her right hand was a bright pink pig chew toy, which she squeaked at passersby.

I stopped for a minute to take in the scene. “Yale has to start pitching in,” she told me. “They’re not paying what they should be paying. They’re not supporting New Haven.”

A week later I sat down for a more formal talk with Hamilton and her husband, Jim Duarte, outside Willoughby’s. She handed me two books and a small packet of documents. “I’ve got so, so much stuff on this,” she said. “Let me know if you need any research material, anything at all.” She explained that she worked as a nurse at Yale New Haven Hospital for 30 years.

The top of the first sheet read “Yale is Cheating New Haven” in bold. This caustic assertion became the topic of our conversation. “Do I think my property taxes are too high?” she asked. “Of course. We’re living on [our] social security.” Duarte, who had been mostly silent since I turned on my recorder, chimed in here. “We’re both on social security. Our property taxes for our 750 square foot apartment are over $6,000.”

“Tax Yale,” Hamilton said, lifting her eyebrows for emphasis.

Yale is a big university in a small city: its campus stretches through 1,093 acres (or just under 50 million square feet) of land in and around the city of New Haven. Granted, some of that acreage sits outside the city’s boundaries in neighboring West Haven, but the vast majority—around 950 acres—lies within New Haven’s city limits. In a town of just 20 square miles, 17 percent of which is un-taxable parks and open public spaces,

the University’s footprint is substantial: 950 acres amounts to over eight percent of the land in the Elm City.

Although Yale can be defined in a variety of ways—a modern research university; a small liberal arts college; a hospital; and the city’s largest employer to only name a few—under Connecticut State Law, it is a nonprofit corporation. This means that it is exempt from taxes on its educational properties, the value of which is around $3.5 billion, according to David Cameron, DUS of the political science department and chair of the city’s Financial Review and Audit Commission. By his calculations, this means that if Yale were legally a for-profit corporation, or in some other way a tax-paying entity, it would cough up about $100 million annually in property taxes.

economically distressed city in which it sits.

“I would use the relationship between Yale and the city of New Haven as a textbook case of the opposite of fair,” said Richard Wolff, GRD ’67, PHD ’69. Wolff, now a professor at the New School in New York, studied at Yale in the 1960s to then go on to teach economics at the University from 1967 to 1969. “It is a grotesque, undemocratic, outrageous abuse of a host community by its largest landowner, its largest employer, its wealthiest citizen,” Wolff said in an interview. “It is something akin to a plantation economy arrangement.”

YALE’S TAX EXEMPTION IS ANCIENT, DATIng back to 1745 in the days before Connecticut was a state, 21 years before the Revolutionary War. The colonial government

In the late 1890s, the City attempted to tax certain Yale dormitories, arguing that they did not serve an explicitly educational purpose. That failed. In Yale University v. New Haven, an 1899 Connecticut Supreme Court case, the Court issued the city a crushing defeat, holding that the dormitories did indeed exclusively serve educational functions and hence were entirely exempt from municipal taxation.

Seventy years later, in 1969, the city tried its hand once more, this time attempting to tax 149 York Street, the building in which the Yale University Press was then housed. The University sued, and by 1975 the case had made its way to the state Supreme Court. The ruling fell in line with the 1899 decision: 149 York was tax-exempt and Yale was to be reimbursed for the taxes

“No city in this country receives more dollars that allow it to provide services to its residences than New Haven does.

No university on the planet gives a larger contribution to its hometown than your university does.”

—Michael Morand, Yale office of public affairs and communications However, in an to alleviate its burden on the city’s purse, every year since 1991, the University has made sizeable voluntary cash payments to the city: $82 million in purely voluntary contributions over the last 22 years, including $8.2 million this year, according to Lauren Zucker, Associate Vice President and Director of New Haven Affairs at Yale. University officials claim that this is the largest voluntary contribution any American university makes to its home city.

Nonetheless, some argue that Yale fails to provide enough financial support for the

decided then that as the University’s stated aim was to provide a public good—specifically the instruction of Protestant ministers—it should not be subject to taxes on its educational property. Yale’s charter was explicitly referenced in Connecticut’s state constitution, where it remains today, cementing the University’s tax-exempt status in the holiest document of the land.

In the 300-plus years that Yale has been located in New Haven, heated arguments over taxes have more than once been brought to and settled in state courtrooms.

it had paid on it between 1969 and 1975.

Truly, the University’s exemption had proved shatterproof.

The city’s economy slumped from the late-1970s through the ’80s, deflated since the departure of its once-robust manufacturing sector. Strapped for cash, New Haven was hungry for tax money and its eyes were set on Yale. By the early 1990s the University’s outlook had changed dramatically.

Christian Haley Prince, PC ’93, was shot to death on Hillhouse Avenue, in the center of Yale’s campus, in February 1991, a tragedy The Yale Herald (Sept. 20, 2013)

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that crystallized concerns among University administrators that families would fear sending their children to a school in a city as poor and as dangerous as New Haven. In a 2006 interview with the Wall Street Journal, Richard Levin, then the University’s president, acknowledged these anxieties. “The principal reason students didn’t come here was the city,” he told the Journal, alluding to the early 1990s. “There were all the drug gangs running around. We felt from the start we had to make a serious commitment to be a good partner and a good neighbor.”

No longer would the University so doggedly avoid making financial contributions to specifically support the city. Instead, administrators decided that if Yale was going to keep its streets safe—not to mention compete with Harvard and Princeton for students—then it was going to have to assume some responsibility for its surroundings. The voluntary payments began in 1991 (initially justified as compensation for the fire services the city had been providing for the University) and Yale is very proud of its track record since then. “No city in the country receives more dollars that allow it to provide services to residents because it’s the home of a non-profit university than New Haven does,” said Michael Morand, SY ’87 DIV ’93, deputy communications officer

Connecticut’s PILOT funding conducted by the University of Connecticut.

When Robert Smuts, SM ’01, started working for the city in Mayor DeStefano’s office in 2001, he said the state was reimbursing the city for almost all of the revenue it lost each year. The PILOT contribution was buttressed then by an additional state fund called the Pequot/Mohegan grant, bringing the total refund to over 90 percent of the value of lost revenue. But over the past 12 years, the state has backed off that commitment precipitously. “Now, between PILOT and the Pequot, it’s something like—it’s less than 40 percent, it’s in the 30s,” Smuts, now the City’s chief administrative officer, said in an interview. “That’s a huge hole.”

All this leaves New Haven pinched. The city is deep in the red—over a billion dollars deep—in fact, and some have begun to call on Connecticut to contribute more.

“The state is the entity that needs to step up its game,” Smuts said. “We’re one of the wealthiest states in the country, and we also have some of the poorest cities in the country. There is a moral obligation to do something differently.”

Part of the problem New Haven faces lies herein. Not only does the city need to worry about lost revenue from Yale and Yale New Haven Hospital, but also from Alber-

oughly disappointed by the outcome of their campaign, it did produce some impressive results. This year, Boston University contributed six million dollars under the plan, and, in total, the City received over $23 million in purely voluntary contributions from its nonprofit sector.

In the mid-1980s, the New Haven Board of Aldermen attempted a similar strategy, establishing a committee, the New Haven Revenue Commission, and tasking it with finding new sources of municipal tax revenue. The Commission recommended that the city commit to an aggressive lobbying campaign at the state level in order to eliminate Yale’s tax exemption. Richard Wolff, the former Yale professor who now teaches at the New School, sat on the Commission and coauthored the group’s report to the Aldermen. “Basic decency requires that the tax-exempt institutions be required to make reasonable payments to New Haven,” Wolff wrote in 1985, specifically targeting Yale for reevaluation.

In an interview on Sept. 15, Wolff vehemently condemned Yale’s tax relationship with New Haven. “This is the exact definition of Robin Hood in reverse,” he said. “It is a very rich university, stealing from the poor to be a bit richer than it otherwise might be.”

“This is the exact definition of Robin Hood in reverse. It is a very rich university, stealing from the poor to be a bit richer than it otherwise might be.”

— Richard Wolff, GRD ’67, PHD ’69, professor at the New School in Yale’s office of public affairs and communications. “No university on the planet gives a larger contribution to its hometown than your university does.”

STILL, THE $8.2 MILLION YALE VOLUNtarily gave to the city this past year pales in comparison to the $100 million dollars it would of be compelled to pay if it were a forprofit institution. If you asked a critic of the University, she would say the city lost out on over $90 million in potential tax revenue this past year. As a means of mitigating this cost of Yale’s presence in New Haven, Connecticut established a program called Payment in Lieu of Taxes (PILOT).

In theory, the PILOT program works by evaluating the total amount of revenue that Connecticut cities lose each year as a result of the tax-exempt properties within their boundaries—nonprofits like hospitals, universities, government buildings, and churches. Then, in theory, the state compensates these municipalities for their missing receipts. In practice, though, the system has deteriorated over the course of the last decade, failing to fully reimburse cities while creating friction between municipal governments around the state as they fight for piece of this pool of funds.

In 1999, Connecticut committed to a 77 percent reimbursement for New Haven’s lost tax revenue, according to an analysis of

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The Yale Herald (Sept. 20, 2013)

tus Magnus University, Southern Connecticut State University, and the well-endowed Hopkins School, a tax exempt independent school whose New Haven campus stretches for more than 100 acres. Moreover, large portions of East Rock and West Rock Parks sit within the city limits, swallowing up hundreds of acres of land that might otherwise generate tax revenue for the city.

Faced with a similar situation, public officials in Boston began a public relations campaign in 2011 to convince the city’s nonprofits to begin to make voluntary financial contributions to the municipality in which they sit. Not only is Boston the home to 29 tax-exempt nonprofit universities, but also the city is the capital of Massachusetts, which requires it to house a host of nontaxable government buildings. The upshot is that more than half of the city’s property is off the tax rolls, according to Ronald W. Rakow, the city’s commissioner of assessing, in comments made to the New York Times.

In response to this issue, Boston’s Mayor Thomas Menino convened a task force to examine the issue of nonprofit taxation, and the committee recommended that the city ask wealthy nonprofit organizations—organizations whose property was worth more than $15 million—to contribute 25 percent of what they would otherwise pay in property taxes to the city if they were not tax-exempt.

While many Boston officials have been thor-

Asked whether Yale should be making a larger contribution to New Haven, Morand pointed to the fact that Yale is already one of the top five taxpayers in the city. “Yale’s nontaxable property occupies a very modest footprint in the overall land area of New Haven and it generates on a per-square-foot of land basis more income for the city than almost any other property,” he said.

IN 1999, YALE PURCHASED 16 BANKrupt properties on Chapel Street, just to the south of Old Campus. “At the Mayor’s request, the University acquired the portfolio in order to stabilize an important retail district adjacent to the University,” Zucker, Yale’s director of New Haven affairs, said in an email. This fell in line with President Levin’s desire for the University to help reinvigorate the neighborhoods immediately surrounding Yale’s campus. “We virtually developed the downtown with our resources,” Levin told the Wall Street Journal in 2006. “There’s a lot of great restaurants.

It’s a destination. Even the New York Times has written about ‘an irresistible’ weekend destination. None of that could be said about New Haven in 1993.” Levin declined to comment for this article, as did current President Peter Salovey and Bruce Alexander, Yale’s vice president of New Haven and state affairs and campus development.

University Properties, Yale’s commercial property manager, owns 50 office spaces and 500 residential properties in New Haven, including over 85 retail tenants, Zucker said. Notwithstanding its broad tax-exemption, Yale is indeed compelled by law to pay property taxes on these holdings; this year the University paid over four million dollars in taxes on that commercial property. Thus, all told, Yale handed over more than $12 million to New Haven in 2013, a substantial amount of money by any metric.

The University’s contribution to New Haven is the largest voluntary payment made by any Ivy League institution to its hometown. The University of Pennsylvania, which is situated in a poor section of Philadelphia, makes no direct voluntary payments to the city. Although Harvard’s campus is in Cambridge, Massachusetts, which is not a part of the city of Boston, Harvard paid $2.1 million to Boston this year, according to public tax records.

In 2003, Brown University, in concert with the Rhode Island School of Design, Johnson and Wales University, and Providence College, reached a PILOT agreement with Providence, Rhode Island. “We certainly felt it was true here at Brown that it’s hard to be successful if the community around you is not also successful,” Richard Spies, Brown’s former executive vice president for planning, said in an interview. He characterized Brown’s voluntary contributions to Providence as examples of “practical self interest,” adding, “It was a good investment for the university to be more closely integrated with the city. It helps emphasize the partnership, our full membership in the community.”

The group of universities pledged $40 million to Providence over the course of 20 years, and Brown initially committed to a little over $1 million in annual voluntary payments. In an example of the manner in which public pressure can influence a university’s contributions, Providence’s Mayor issued the city’s nonprofits a direct call to action in his 2011 budget address. “Every citizen, every city worker, every taxpayer, every business and every organization—including tax-exempt institutions—must share part of the burden of saving our city,” Mayor Angel Taveras said. Brown made a $6.3 million voluntary payment to the city the following year.

In at least one case, an Ivy League institution has been able to flip this power dynamic on its head. In 2011, Princeton University voluntarily paid $1.2 million to the Borough of Princeton, and $500,000 to the township, but when negotiations over a proposed $300 million arts complex ground to a halt with local officials, the university sought to turn up the pressure by threatening to withhold these voluntary payments.

“It would be difficult to justify continuing contributions at existing levels to local officials who not only refuse to help the university achieve a key educational objective, but in some cases have sought to prevent the project from going forward,” Robert K. Durkee, the university’s vice president and secretary, told the New York Times in May 2011. The Princeton Regional Planning Board has since approved the plan, voting

nine to one in favor of allowing the university to move forward.

Interestingly, the city officials I spoke to were hesitant to demand more from Yale.

“It’s 100 percent fair,” Doug Hausladen, New Haven Ward 7 Alderman, said of Yale’s property tax exemption. “They’re following the law,” he added. Smuts, the city’s chief administrative officer, said he would appreciate more money from the University, but argued that it was not Yale’s responsibility to contribute more. “As an administrator here in the city, if the University were willing to pay more I’d love that. I think the University is a tremendous partner in the city and gives far more than they are legally obligated to and far more than any peer institution.”

ONE OF THE DOCUMENTS THAT WENDY Hamilton handed me when we met outside Willoughby’s was a breakdown of New Haven’s property taxes. “This is what not taxing Yale’s means,” she had scrawled in the top left corner of the paper, and it is indeed reasonable to argue that the most immediate consequence of Yale’s tax exemption is felt in New Haven’s levy high property taxes for business and homeowners. “This is one of the major challenges of all American cities right now,” architecture professor Elihu Rubin, SY ’99, said. “They’re in this bind of wanting to attract business investment and wanting to attract middle-classes but not wanting to give away the farm in terms of taxes.”

Rubin, who teaches the Yale College course “New Haven and the American

City,” highlighted the difficult balance the city must strike. “If taxes are too low, then the city’s going to be in trouble,” he said, referring to New Haven. “It’s not going to be able to pay its bills. It’s not going to be able to perform the services that it needs to perform to continue to be a desirable place to live. At the same time, if property

Considering these circumstances, maybe Yale should give more. A voluntary contribution of $8 million is considerable, but it’s less than 10 percent of what the university would pay to the city if not for its tax exemption. New Haven is drowning in debt and Yale’s endowment is massive; perhaps volunteering a few more millions would be the right thing to do.

allowed Yale to close off access to the sections of Wall and High Streets that ran through the middle of its campus. To sweeten the deal, Yale donated $1.1 million to the city.

As long as there is nonprofit organization with one of the largest private endowments in the world located in a city with a gaping

“This is one of the major challenges of all American cities right now. They’re in this bind of wanting to attract business investment and wanting to attract middle classes but not wanting to give away the farm in terms of taxes.”

—Elihu Rubin, SY ‘99, professor of architecture taxes are considered too high, then people will look for housing elsewhere.”

This is the predicament in which New Haven finds itself. If the city’s property taxes rise too high, middle class residents will move out of the city to the more tax forgiving surrounding suburbs. But the city isn’t getting enough reimbursement money from Connecticut, and Yale’s voluntary contributions, though generous, are too far small to make up the difference. “When I look at the city over the long term it seems to me that it’s unsustainable,” Cameron, the political science DUS, said.

What’s unambiguously clear is that Yale’s relationship to New Haven is defined in a large part by the money that flows between the two entities. In 1990, during the weeks and months leading up to the start of Yale’s voluntary contribution commitment, this dynamic was on clear display. The deal struck then between the city and the University was multifaceted.

Along with agreeing to make payments for the firefighting services it received from the city on its tax-exempt land, Yale also agreed to move part of its golf course onto the city’s tax rolls. In return, New Haven

budget deficits and an outsize population of low-income residents, the issue of Yale’s tax relationship to New Haven will continue to spark debate over the University’s responsibility to the town that surrounds it.

In June, the city finalized its sale of the closed-off sections of High and Wall Streets to the University for $3 million. Pretty good deal for Yale, considering the value of keeping cars, trucks, and buses off the center of its campus. Maybe the $8.2 million dollars the University handed over to the city had something to do with it.

—Graphic by Zachary Schiller YH Staff The Yale Herald (Sept. 20, 2013)

15

Leveling the playing field New semi-professional football team hopes to keep young adults off the street

by David Rossler

A

n orthopedic technician by trade, Booker McJunkin moved from New York to New Haven in 2012 after accepting a job at the Yale Department of Orthopedics and Rehabilitation. But shortly after his move up the I-95, he found himself coaching a semiprofessional football team, the New Haven Venom. This private club team, for athletes aged 18-30, has been praised for

he founded in New York, also called the Venom. He organized that team in 2005 to great success. Since its founding, his program has been just as much about combatting the violent inner-city culture of New Haven as it has been about winning football games. McJunkin said that the social agenda is a major part of his aim—to provide an alternative to street crime for teenagers and young adults who

historically tense relationships. “We want to have neighborhoods like The Ville, The Tribe, The Trey, [and] The Hill… become united,” McJunkin states on the New Haven Venom website. To form this community, McJunkin has assumed a significant role in the off-the-field-lives of his players. “We deal with a lot of other issues,” McJunkin said. “Some of these guys are homeless, they’re out of work, they have

a supportive community, but they also serve as role models in outreach to fellow neighbors and community members.

“Now I can be a positive role model for at least one child out there,” said Little in the documentary short. “Maybe I can find that one child that can relate to me, and I can really save their life.

McJunkin gives food to team members in need, pays for stays in homeless shel-

“When these guys get out of high school and they don’t have anything else to d do, we give them an opportunity to showcase their talent.”

—Booker McJunkin, New Haven Venom founder and head coach its role in engaging New Haven youth who might otherwise find themselves victims of or participants in street violence. The sports venture attempts to provide both structure and professional training. But now, in its second year, the Venom faces an uncertain future: with a lack of funding or private partnership, the viability of the project is in jeopardy.

McJunkin, the coach and owner of the New Haven Venom and a former Lamar University football player, established the team in the image of a similar football club

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The Yale Herald (Sept. 20, 2013)

find themselves stuck jobless after high school. “When these guys get out of high school and they don’t have anything else to do, we give them an opportunity to showcase their talent,” he said. Team member Nick Little, 21, said he appreciates the structure that the Venom provides. “I know that if I stay on the streets, I’m going to either be dead or in jail,” Little said in a short YouTube documentary McJunkin filmed to promote his team and program.

Many members of New Haven Venom are from New Haven neighborhoods with

anger issues. We sit down and listen to their problems.” McJunkin said hopes that this amount of attention will help shape the players’ lives in positive ways. The organization provides resources for further education and employment, including computer classes and job interview training. “Before I had this team, it was all about street life,” said Michael Shaw, 19, a member of the New Haven Venom in McJunkin’s film. “We change lives, we save lives,” McJunkin said. Members of the Venom are not only provided with

ters, and even helps with legal costs for players who are involved in the court system. He takes it upon himself to provide job training and resources: such as useful skills for the service sector like punctuality, workplace responsibility, and computer literacy.

The Venom is not affiliated with any major National Football League organization, making a future professional career for its players highly unlikely. But McJunkin doesn’t sell his players on unattainable dreams, instead trying to find them work

in the local community. He has tried to contact large New Haven institutions, like Yale-New Haven Hospital, the University of New Haven, and Yale about allotting entry-level jobs for members of the team, but he has yet to hear any responses. And running such an extensive, multi-faceted organization has hit McJunkin’s pocketbook. “All of this is coming out of pocket,” McJunkin said. “I’m spending out of my retirement. I’m going into rent money.” He estimated that running the program for a year costs 50 to 60 thousand dollars.

McJunkin is looking for donations and grants, not just to partner in providing employment opportunities for his players, but also to co-sponsor the daily operations of his team and ease his own financial burden. But he hasn’t had any luck.

He says that he has tried contacting Yale

ize that they can help,” he said. However, members of the Yale Athletic department, including Nadine Logan, Senior Administrative Assistant in charge of Develop-

students with rigorous, personalized academic support, with the ultimate goal of getting its participants into prestigious colleges. Julie Greenwood, executive di-

“Some of these guys are homeless, they’re out work, they have anger issues. We sit down and listen to their problems.“ —Booker McJunkin ment and Outreach, said in an interview with the Herald that they had not heard of New Haven Venom.

Yale does, however, support other similar organizations with related goals.

Squash Haven, established in 2007 and funded by a large national nonprofit, aims

rector of Squash Haven, described the organization’s funding as “a combination of individual donors, foundations, and other sources,” and described its relationship to Yale as “very intimate.” Squash Haven is headquartered in Yale’s Payne Whitney Gymnasium, uses Yale’s squash facilities,

“I know that if I stay on the streets, I’m going to be either dead or in jail. ” —Nick Little, New Haven Venom member not only about securing jobs for members of the Venom, but also in hopes of a partnership, or at least for donations of old football equipment. “I want the athletic directors of these big institutions to real-

differences from the Squash and tutoring program for New Haven youths. First, the Venom caters to post-high school aged students, while Squash Haven aims to

to train middle and high school students from New Haven to play squash, a sport rarely offered in public school systems.

However, unlike the Venom football club, Squash Haven also provides accepted

and draws on the members of the Yale community for volunteer staff and tutors.

While McJunkin would love to forge a similar partnership with a hometown university, his venture for young adults has critical

be an early intervention program through admitting students in fifth grade. In its current state, McJunkin’s program lacks the comprehensive structure and support base that Squash Haven has built up over the past five years.

The future of New Haven Venom remains uncertain. If it fails to get similar financial backing, its very existence is unsustainable. “I’ve sent letters to everybody,” McJunkin said. But he’s still unwilling to give up on the project. Upon moving to New Haven, “the first thing that everyone told me was that this was never going to happen,” he recalled. “I truly believe that if we give these young men a viable option, and give them someone to talk to who has been in their shoes, we can make a difference in this city.”

—Graphic by Madeline Butler YH Staff The Yale Herald (Sept. 20, 2013)

17

CULTURE Tindred spirits

What screws, subways, and dating sites have in common

by Jenny Allen YH Staff

Jamie’s wearing a Hollister visor. Swipe left.

Brad’s sporting colonial-era sideburns. Left.

Pete’s picture is a shirtless mirror selfie. Left.

Ooh, Mark has a kitten on his shoulder. Swipe right. It’s a match! You and Mark have liked each other. New message from Mark: “Will you be my Tinderella?” You may have misjudged Mark. Block him and keep swiping.

F

or those uninitiated, welcome to Tinder. Maybe you’ve been too busy sustainably farming during your gap year to stay current on social trends, but if for some reason you’ve missed the explosion of mobile dating applications on college campuses, pay attention. Gone are the days when online romantic interaction was limited to stalking your crush’s vacation album on Facebook. Social dating apps can help you transition your love out of the virtual world and into the real one.

According to a survey distributed by the Herald, 13 percent of 1,323 anonymous Yale undergraduates polled have used some sort of dating or hook-up application or website (the survey specified Tinder, Grindr, Zoosk, and OKCupid as possible options). These apps and websites minimize the belaboring ritual of face-to-face romantic or sexual pursuit—Is he available? Is she interested?

Should I initiate DFMO?—and replace it with the simple swipe of your finger across your iPhone screen.

Simplicity is the key feature in these apps.

Profiles usually consist only of a picture and a line or two of description. The apps allow users to quickly browse through many user profiles and indicate interest in potential paramours. Users are only able to initiate a conversation with one another if they both “like” the other’s profile.

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The Yale Herald (Sept. 20, 2013)

“Overall, it just streamlines the process for what a lot of people are already looking for,” one anonymous Yale Tinder-user told the Herald in an interview.

But what is it that people are looking for on Tinder, Grindr, or other similar apps?

“Trust me. No one’s looking for love on Grindr,” one anonymous Yale user put it. The app has, however, been widely used among the Yale community to facilitate meeting or hook-ups (the Herald profiled one user’s experience with the app in a Feb. 2012 issue).

One positive of the app, as another user explained, is that guys who use it are “DTF.” Tinder’s story seems a bit different. I downloaded the app and used it to chat with Yale users about why they like the app. Like Grindr, no one on Tinder seemed to be ex-

As one user said in a Tinderview, “[Tinder] is not something I’m using to necessarily hook up with people.” Though this user admitted to having used the app to hook up in the past, he claims it was more to see test out his first impression came across on a low-risk platform.

Tinder certainly emphasizes the power of first impressions. If you’re not into a profile, you swipe left—signifying a thumbs-down— and lose the chance to connect with that person in the future. However, Tinder users are only notified of what others think when a response is affirmative (signaled by a swipe to the right) and the interest is mutual. It’s a positive-sum game: the emotional reward of approval without the risk of rejection. This potential ego-boost can be somewhat addic-

would continue to use dating apps and websites; 38 percent said maybe.

Put simply, it’s vanity—people like being liked. The appeal of this aspect of Tinder and other like-minded apps can be explained by some basic psychology. I talked to Professor Margaret Clark, Professor of Psychology and Master of Trumbull, whose research focuses on close relationships and emotion.

“One of the most powerful predictors of who you like,” she says, “is whether they like you. Tinder and other dating sites provide this information by putting people in touch with one another only if both are interested.”

YET, THIS IDEA OF EXPRESSING INTEREST without risking rejection is not unique to Tinder. At Yale, “screw” dances and “crush”

“Going out of my way to try not to be single seems counter to my semi-moral obligation to myself to be happy with whatever I’ve got...I don’t care if my friends use [dating or hook-up websites] but I’d be embarrassed if certain people found out that I did.”

—anonymous survey response

“What are your reservations about dating or hookup applications or websites?”

plicitly looking for a relationship—none of the people interviewed (rather, tinderviewed) had ever started a relationship with a person through the app. Furthermore, few people have had the fulfilling experience of a Tinder match coming to fruition in the form of a date or hook-up.

tive to users. Sabrina Bleich, ES ‘16, who occasionally used Tinder over the summer, says she knows of girls who compared the number of matches they got, as if it were a competition to amass the most admirers.

Overall, Yale users seem to be fans. 28 percent of Yale users surveyed said that they

parties (where people are anonymously invited by members of the organization hosting, usually fraternities and sororities) tap into this psychology. That said, these events eliminate the possibility of extending invitations to “creepy people” (as one survey respondent put it) who might be presenting false

information over the internet. In fact, many survey respondents named this as a main reservation about these applications.

“Screws are different from dating apps because the set-ups are always friends of friends,” explained Aadi Tolappa, SY ’16, a

team that they indicated as a “like.” During the mixer, the matched pairs met each other and teamed up for various party activities.

“It was one of our most fun mixers of the year,” says Paula Hagopian, SY ’16. This mixer is not an isolated phenomenon—sources

A NEW SITE MAY SOON ALLOW STUDENTS to enjoy the benefits of Tinder without straying outside their social comfort zone. Although not yet available to Yalies, Friendsy is a new website developed by three current Princeton students that allows students

“I connect with unexpected people in unexpected places for unexpected reasons. Intimacy works best when you don’t force it.”

—anonymous survey response

“What are your reservations about dating or hookup applications or websites?”

former member of the Freshman Class Council who helped to plan Freshman Screw last year. He says that while many of the aspects of Screw are similar to those of dating apps or websites—both parties, after all, have to be interested enough to agree to attend together—the assumption is that your friends have vouched for the “normalcy” of your date. Au contraire, enter Screw Me Yale, a website created last year by Rafi Khan, PC ’15, as a sort of dating platform to help students find screw dates for their suitemates. Though Khan does not expect to maintain the site this year, the site’s conception shows that the premise of hookup and dating apps is prime to be replicated in unexpected ways.

Following the trend, the Women’s Varsity Soccer team held a proto-Tinder mixer with the Men’s Varsity Lightweight Crew team last fall. Each team created a PowerPoint presentation with all of its team members’ pictures, exchanged PowerPoints, and matched each member with one member of the opposite

tell us that a Tinder party involving matches from around New Haven, Yale-affiliated or otherwise, also took place last year at the DKE’s Lake Place abode, though affiliates of the fraternity declined to confirm or comment.

While such parties are becoming increasingly popular (perhaps thanks to a healthy sense of irony), dating apps themselves remain fraught with social stigma related to sexual desperation. Sources interviewed were quick to point out that they only used apps like Tinder “as a joke” and not to meet random hookups. Their requests for anonymity in this article only reiterate this point. A tagline from one Tinder user summed up the feeling well: “Let’s make up a story about how we met so we don’t have to tell our kids that we used Tinder.” With embarrassment presenting such a significant barrier to the virtual dating and hookup scene, it’s hard not think that critical mass is all these apps require for explosive take-off.

to indicate whether they’d like to “Friend,” “Hook-up,” or “Date” other members of the student body (a .edu email address is required to register.) Like Tinder, users are only notified if they both choose the same option.

But thanks to the addition of “Friend”, the site reads less of sexual desperation and more of a low-stakes activity that can be incorporated fairly seamlessly into a collegiate social media scene.

The website has already registered over 2,000 users across five different Universities, including Harvard, Dartmouth, Princeton, James Madison University, and UPenn (through a limited launch). Of the site’s popularity, Friendsy cofounder Michael Pinsky said, “We have registered tens of thousands of mutual friendships and relationships, and we have quite a bit of anecdotal evidence of success.” Pinsky went on to say he’s heard stories of long-time friends who finally took their relationship to the next level, or acquaintances who grew to be much better

friends through the use of the site. This is all in accordance with their mission statement, according to Friendsy’s Facebook page, to “[spread] happiness through a celebration of human connection.”

Pinsky and his co-founders may have found the real secret to online matching.

It’s all about framing these apps and websites as what they are at the most fundamental level—new ways to reach out and connect.

After a week of Tinderviews and survey-scouring, I sat down to talk with an anonymous Yale senior about her experience with OKCupid, a dating website that relies on a complex algorithm to match users based on interests and compatibility— much more comprehensive than the superficial Tinder photo and tagline. Contrary to stigmas, she was drawn to the website not by desperation but by the prospect of an “alternative way to socialize.” “Meeting someone on the subway is basically just as random as meeting someone on the internet,” she told the Herald.

Over a long summer in New York City, she admits, “I became so addicted to the website . . . there was a week when I had a date every single night. There are so many different types of people, and it was super convenient, and super streamlined.”

While she reported on our survey that she was “extremely satisfied” with her experience, she was a little bit hesitant to start things up again in New Haven. “I think I’d be a little weirded out to see Yale people on there,” she said.

The good news is that she can always swipe left.

—graphic by Christine Mi YH Staff The Yale Herald (Sept. 20, 2013)

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REVIEWS Tikkaway, come to stay

by Lucas Sin YH Staff

F

irst, there was Chipotle. Then, there was Panera Bread. Maison Mathis landed around the corner. Next comes Pinkberry. All of these establishments, which joined or will be joining downtown New Haven’s restaurant scene in 2013, triangulate the fast-food industry’s mantra of efficiency and casual-ness with quality guarantee.

And as it stands, there is a new-comer—a gem of one, at that—tucked away on Orange and Chapel, just one block before Elm City Market. Here comes Tikkaway, or as you might hear it referred to: the “Indian Chipotle”.

On the surface, Tikkaway fits snuggly under the “fast-casual” umbrella. The experience is built around the assembly line; every customer is given full reign over the composition of his or her meal and is serviced at every step along the way. The process begins with a choice between a roti wrap, rice bowl, or salad bowl. Then, there is a choice of protein or vegetables: chicken, lamb, panir, potato, chickpeas, or mixed vegetables. The final choice of toppings includes raw vegetables, cold chutneys, and of course, a curry: masala, khorma, madras, vindaloo, or Tikkaway vegan. Customers, then, are given the power and responsibility to mix-and-match ingredients for their meal; the picky college student, suddenly, is endowed with a tantalizing sense of culinary prowess. It’s a successful formula; Tikkaway only opened in the end of August, but it already holds 5 stars on Yelp and has become a favorite lunch-break destination for locals.

It isn’t just this emphasis on customizing flavor profiles that makes fast-casual dining an ideal business for a college town. The limited-service format is efficient and clean.

Prices are low, ranging from $6-$12. Students and other busy clients can feel free to dine well and dash. On top of respecting their customers’ time and budgets, these restaurants reflect contemporary values by sporting environmentally- and health-conscious menu options that show a genuine concern for dietary restrictions and allergies and meet a growing demand for organic and locally sourced ingredients. Furthermore, fast-casual options such as Chipotle and now Tikkaway serve ethnic cuisines that pique the palate in contrast with what can often be bland offerings from your dining hall or typical burger place while keeping options comfortably familiar and simple.

Lucas Sin/YH

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The Yale Herald (Sept. 20, 2013)

Yet in spite of its tiled floors and open-kitchen, Tikkaway is no chain. Rather, it is the latest of jaunty restaurateur Gopinath Nair’s ventures. Nair was the owner of Coromandel, a highly acclaimed chain of Indian fine dining restaurants in South Norwalk. One day, he asked himself if the Mexican burrito and the Chinese orange chicken had made it to the mainstream, why hadn’t any element Indian cuisine? His answer: Tikkaway.

Raj Sandhu Tikkaway is supposed to be merely a gateway to a greater expanse of more complex and dynamic Indian cuisine. This means that some authenticity is lost along the way: three of the five sauces have no cream, and one is vegan. The results, however, are impressive; too often, diners at more traditional Indian restaurants regret the buttery paratha, the creamy chicken tikka masala, and the carb-in-carb samosas. Tikkaway, very surprisingly, keeps you light on your feet. The curries are lightened but remain the stars of the establishment, perhaps in part due to Nair’s background in Indian fine dining; they boast a carefully balanced spice blend and are an absolute, fullbodied delight. Rather than sacrifices, then, these changes can be seen as Nair’s innovations on Indian 101 (as Nair refers to more traditional Indian dining). These innovations are grounded by a solid foundation of well-executed basics: the basmati rice is subtly flavored with saffron, the vegetables are cooked to caramelization in gentle spice, and chutneys are balanced.

In the past, New Haven’s fast-casual restaurants may have not had the smoothest openings, but they at least had corporate backing. At Chipotle, burritos were cold, and Tabasco bottles were used as salt-shakers. Similarly, service at Panera Bread was slow, and pastas were overcooked. But supported by strong corporate infrastructures, these New Haven branches became as good as any other within three months.

In contrast, Nair doesn’t have the economic and marketing backup from such industry powerhouses. For him, the restaurant business demands not only a fervent dedication to his craft, but also a keen sense of hospitality. As a consequence, Nair makes a commendable effort to be the most dynamic, amiable restaurateur in New Haven: he works the line himself putting together rice bowls all day so that he has a chance to interact with customers himself. And it works: regulars drive from Norwalk every Tuesday to see him. A father even swung by to visit and show off his child’s dimples.

Tikkaway may initially seem like just an “Indian Chipotle,” but it offers so much more than quick and delicious Indian fare; it is a testament to the entrepreneurship and audacity of a local restaurateur who not only learned from the restaurant industry, but managed to surpass his corporate competitors in quality and service at every step.

Music: Grouplove Grouplove’s sophomore effort Spreading Rumours is a solid, if somewhat inconsistent, addition to their catalog. Right off the bat, it’s clear that they’re looking to forge new ground; the album opens with an extended instrumental intro featuring dreamy piano arpeggios and filtered drums. After this, the album flip-flops between upbeat indie-rock and synth-ier excursions. The back-to-back pairing of “Schoolboy” and lead single “Ways to Go” exemplify this best; the former is standard SoCal rock, while the latter swaps out the guitars for an electro-pop pulse.

Still, Spreading Rumours retains some of the signature sound that Grouplove carved out on their debut Never Trust a Happy Song (mostly, Christian Zucconi’s distinctive yelp). They’re at their best when they focus on the sensibilities they know best, such as in the haunting “Didn’t Have to Go,” which features vocalist Hannah Hooper negotiating the space between infatuation and heartbreak, and in album closer “Save the Party for Me,” which deploys sweet harmonies over a slow-burning lilt. At times, Grouplove finds a way to synthesize their traditional rock sound and electronic influences; “Bitin’ the Bullet” grounds its dense arrangement with an aggressive stomp, making for the album’s most bracing listen. Elsewhere, they falter; the skittering 808 drums and grinding synth bass on “Shark Attack” are ill suited to Zucconi’s beach-time tales.

Ultimately, Spreading Rumours can’t quite make up its mind about the direction it wants to go in. The band has the right to pursue new sounds, but when they’re peppered between more conventional songs, it reads as noncommittal. Grouplove’s sharp songwriting picks up most of the slack, but the tug of war between new and old makes an otherwise pleasant album a sometimes frustrating listen.

—Will Adams YH Staff

Movie: Adore Some subjects lend themselves better to comedy than tragedy. Unfortunately, director Anne Fontaine seems to have missed this essential fact.

Her new movie Adore is a pathetic attempt to turn the Lonely Island video “Motherlover” into a striking romantic drama. Where Andy Samberg made easy farce, Fontaine fails miserably to create good film.

Adore is the story of two beautiful middle aged best friends (Naomi Watts and Robin Wright) who enter relationships with each other’s dull Abercrombie & Fitch-model sons (Xavier Samuel and James Frecheville), also best friends.

Set in an Australian beach paradise, mothers and sons/motherlovers swim, surf, exchange longing glances, and make love. Imagine the idiotic setup for some dismal late-night HBO softcore with MILF in the title extended for thirty minutes—this is the first third of the film. Next comes a superficial attempt at moral conflict: “Gee, maybe I shouldn’t sleep with my best friend’s mom/son—but gosh, I just love sex.” The third portion of the film reveals the uninteresting result everyone saw coming—this was never going to work out. Big surprise! Apparently Fontaine, however, mistakes this moment for “compelling drama.” In reality, Adore leaves the audience impatiently waiting forty minutes for the inevitable implosion.

The performances are shallow, the dialogue trite, the plot predictable.

Adore’s only remotely redemptive quality is the collection of beautiful shots, but there the credit goes to New South Wales, not to anyone involved in the film’s production. Really, the only reason to see Adore is its taboo premise.

Unfortunately, those looking for the fascinatingly perverse will come away disappointed. Andy Samberg took the “motherlover” concept to the only place it belongs: the world of the absurdly comedic. Anything else, especially Adore, is trash.

—Colin Groundwater YH Staff

Music: MGMT A lot has been said about the rise and “fall” of MGMT: blogs repeatedly expressed disappointment toward the band’s seemingly permanent turn from the indie megapop of 2007 debut LP Oracular Spectacular, nostalgic of the days when MGMT was christened the perfect festival band before ever playing a festival.

Personally, I’d always thought that was pretty unfair. Their second album Congratulations was certainly bat-shit, but actually pretty cool, and I wanted to listen to this new, third, self-titled album with open ears. I made a point of not comparing it to MGMT’s early, hook-laden glory days, but rather of listening to it as just a new psychedelic record by a talented young band.

Unfortunately, that didn’t make a difference; MGMT manages to hide most evidence that the band has any talent left. On Congratulations, choruses weren’t catchy because they were too complex. Here they’re just boring and uninspired. Melodies twist around themselves stupidly, as if for the sake of being unconventional, and lyrics caricature the kind of modern mysticism the band had once dished out easily.

It’s not all bad—“Your Life is a Lie,” the album’s lead single, is a smart, fuzzy, punk-pop incantation, and album opener “Alien Days” packs a couple ‘60s-gazing ear worm hooks. And the production does sound incredible: the hovering, nuanced layers of lo-fi murk and hi-fi digitalia are impressively composed. But on the whole, even the production can’t save the desperately aimless tunes of songs like “Cool Song No. 2” or the messy sound soups on “Astro-Mancy” and “I Love You Too, Death.” MGMT is not just a clumsy album for MGMT, but a clumsy album no matter how you look at it.

—Elliah Heifetz YH Staff

Staff list:

Here’s what we’ve been up to What we’re eating: rice cakes. Yeah they taste like cardboard. But only in the most delectable way. I’m no artist but rice cakes are my canvas. When I’m feeling adventurous, I can slab some salsa on my tamari-toasted rice cake. When I’m feeling down, I can spread some chocolatey or (read: and) nut spreads on my butter-popcorn variety. And then, rice cakes, just as I was singing your praises, I made a lil hiccup. I am munching on your white cheddar, Quaker, and I have to tell you: your moldy grandma odor that I wrote off as just a scent masking your true glory, well, it is real. I need Pepto.

What we’re listening to: Mike Jones. He ain’t tripping about the limelight.

He know I’m not on dat bullshit. He’s waiting/anticipating for me (baby).

Mike you make Payne Whitney fun for me. I just wanna be next to you.

What we’re watching: I Dream of Nene. I used to be ashamed of my reality television-watching ways. “Oh yeah I only watch Kardashians in the gym.

“Honestly how many Real Housewives franchises can they have?” I don’t care. I’m just going to say it. I am genuinely happy that Nene Leakes, of Real Housewives of Atlanta fame, is getting married (get this: to her ex-husband). I think she’s bringing romance back. Just one word beb: pre-nup.

What we’re plotting: A restaurant based off of balsamic vinegar. Think about it. Drinking vinegars. Braised meats with vinegar. Rice cakes with vinegar.

Just hear me out.

What we’re drinking: Stewart’s Orange Cream Soda. I don’t need to explain myself to you guys.

—Olivia Rosenthal YH Staff

The Yale Herald (Sept. 20, 2013)

21

BULLBLOG BLACKLIST This is vile.

Which would you rather be doing, though?

Your ampersands are plus signs, but this isn’t a QR class.

SOMESOM

The term “kill count”

When someone says “I’m Master’s Aiding” and it sounds like “I’m masturbating.”

By extension, entitlement.

The sniffles

People in seminar who offer that race is complicated and argue that discussions of race rarely go well and then share their life story as proof.

TA

Comparing handwriting with the person next to us in lecture.

The I-95

Managing time Comes out of nowhere every time.

If we have them now, they’re here to stay.

Yale twins

When will we all agree that time manages us?

How are we supposed to know which one of you we want to avoid eye contact with?

The Yale Herald (Sept., 20, 2013)

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