Category: Life Lessons

When I wrote the blog post last year, Yale Needs Women, I found myself cringing at how President Kingman Brewster handled coeducation. He didn’t so much throw open the gates as grudgingly unhook the latch—mostly because Princeton had just started to admit women, and Yale’s admit rates were taking a hit. Brewster famously insisted on still admitting 1,000 men each year to ensure Yale’s mission of “producing male leaders” wasn’t disrupted. The women? They could come—so long as they didn’t get in the way.

Yale, in short, was pretty awful. But many Ivies were pretty bad. Dartmouth women arrived in 1972 to frat chants, hate mail, and banners reading “Better Dead Than Coed.”

But there were some heroes in the fight for coeducation. I thought I’d use ChatGPT to create some trading cards of the Heroes of Ivy League Coeducation. Here’s my first attempt. At the bottom, I’ll show you how you can help me out!

Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change
The courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference.

Reinhold Niebuhr, The Serenity Prayer

I first heard these words in my twenties and thought they were the pinnacle of self-help wisdom. It’s known as the Serenity Prayer—famous in Alcoholics Anonymous. Here was a path to peace, proven in the crucible of real suffering.

We live in an age of constant urgency. Every scroll brings a new crisis, a new villain, a new call to action. And if you’re not keeping up, you start to feel like you’re part of the problem. You should be outraged. You should be doing more. You should care harder.

But lately, I’ve started to wonder—what if that feeling isn’t helping? What if it’s actually part of the problem?

Early on, the Internet felt like it was going to be a force for good. It was supposed to connect people across the world, break down barriers, bring everyone a little closer together.

That’s not exactly how it turned out.

Spend a few minutes scrolling through Reddit and you’ll find posts where people gang up on some poor anonymous person. Titles like “Is this the ugliest woman in the world?” pop up, with the picture above, and the internet gladly weighs in. Everyone gets their shot. Everyone feels clever. This is the worst version of what social media can be — not connection, but collective cruelty.

Here are two quotes from commencement speeches:

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life.” — Steve Jobs

Steve Jobs, Stanford Commencement, 2005
Full Video

“You’re not the cold clay lump with a big belly you leave behind when you die. You’re not your collection of walking personality disorders.” — Anne Lamott

Anne Lamott, UC Berkeley Commencement, 2003
Full Speech

Which one will inspire you to lead a better life?

When I was a kid, every sitcom seemed to have a time capsule episode. The kids would gather at school, bury a box filled with artifacts—a mixtape, a letter to the future—planning to dig it up years later.

I realized that I could do the same for 2020, but as a virtual time capsule—not one packed with sourdough starters and rolls of toilet paper, but a collection of the moments and memories that defined that strange year. And today, March 15, 2025—five years after New York City shut down its schools—feels like the right time to open it.

When we were in London, we went to the fanciest teahouse in the world and were given a pastry fork—a delicate little thing, part fork, part knife, designed for the precise task of slicing through scones and dainty pastries. Sitting there in such an elegant setting, it struck me how much effort goes into creating an air of sophistication around something so simple.

The pastry fork, for all its refinement, wasn’t so different from the spork—an everyday utensil that trades elegance for practicality. Yet here, in this grand tea room, it was presented with an air of quiet authority, as if it held the secret to a more civilized way of eating. It made me think about how much of what we consider refined or high culture isn’t necessarily about the thing itself, but the story we tell around it. As William Shakespeare put it, “Nothing is good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”