This article originally appeared in the 2018 First Year Issue


Bright freshman year, with freshmen rife,

When freshness is a way of life.

The Harkness bells to wake you up

And lukewarm beer to fill your cup.

You’re playing frisbee on the quad.

You’re putting up a cool facade.

Valedictorian boasts are boasted

Until “a new grade has been posted.”


The jaded sophomores run amok.

They’re way too alt to give a fuck.

But don’t blame Nietzsche or Donald Trump,

It’s just the inevitable Sophomore Slump.


The more you look, the more you’ll see

That juniors join the bourgeoisie.

They use LinkedIn and feign propriety

But still freak out about society.


And senior year is bittersweet

Since so much still feels incomplete.

Before you know it, you’ll be forty,

So why not try a quick Yale orgy?


And after Yale, should troubles rise

To cloud the blue of sunny skies,

Where’er upon life’s sea we sail

We’ll always have our Yale email.

— N. Amsel