The Luxury of Forgetting
I am not on financial aid. I went to a New York private school, which, for all its prestige, had very little economic diversity. At Yale, though, I am surrounded by so many people from so many different socioeconomic backgrounds, many of whom I count among my closest friends. But it’s become increasingly clear that, because of the student income contribution, Yale is not the same for them as it is for me.
It’s easy to see the effect of the student income contribution when I have the freedom to scale back work hours and my friends don’t, but the inequalities perpetuated by the student income contribution aren’t confined to the school year alone. For example, I’m really excited to spend my summer volunteering for a conservation corps, maintaining trails in the wilderness. I will make no money. But conservation work is something I’m really passionate about, and I’m willing to sacrifice a little coffee and a little free time to save up and pay for my plane ticket. But as I was relaying my summer plans to my suitemate, she said something to the effect of, “I’d love to do something like that, but I have to make money to pay off the summer income contribution. Sucks, right?” And suddenly, I was embarrassed to have brought it up at all.
As someone who is not on financial aid, I have the luxury of forgetting the difference the student income contribution can make in one’s time at Yale. I see now that all Yale experiences are not created equal, and that because the student income contribution so blatantly divides the student body along class lines, they could never be.
It’s easy to see the effect of the student income contribution when I have the freedom to scale back work hours and my friends don’t, but the inequalities perpetuated by the student income contribution aren’t confined to the school year alone. For example, I’m really excited to spend my summer volunteering for a conservation corps, maintaining trails in the wilderness. I will make no money. But conservation work is something I’m really passionate about, and I’m willing to sacrifice a little coffee and a little free time to save up and pay for my plane ticket. But as I was relaying my summer plans to my suitemate, she said something to the effect of, “I’d love to do something like that, but I have to make money to pay off the summer income contribution. Sucks, right?” And suddenly, I was embarrassed to have brought it up at all.
As someone who is not on financial aid, I have the luxury of forgetting the difference the student income contribution can make in one’s time at Yale. I see now that all Yale experiences are not created equal, and that because the student income contribution so blatantly divides the student body along class lines, they could never be.
