It was the middle of August 2023 when I arrived at Yale for the first time. With my miserable attempt at an American accent, I nervously made my way around the place I planned to call home for the next four years. In a matter of weeks, I was no longer getting lost on my way to classes, had clocked all of the good dining halls, and had figured out the least busy time to do laundry. Perhaps overconfident in my ability to navigate Yale, I unwittingly stumbled through a string of college faux pas. Little did I realize that Yale operates on its own mysterious code of conduct—unspoken rules and principles that guide our time here.
Hold the door open until there is no one within a 10-foot radius.
It’s a lesson I learned the hard way. One day, I walked through the double doors of the Schwarzman Center with hot tears streaming down my cheeks. My distress didn’t excuse the glares and scoffs with a passing remark, “You can tell that some people’s parents really never taught them manners.”
It’s safe to say that I wasn’t used to holding doors for anyone around me, growing up in the uber-crowded streets of Mumbai. Yale taught me differently. Even if you are sprinting to a class that started two minutes ago, or if you are walking back from the Yale Bookstore with a package twice your size, you must drop everything to hold the door open for the people around you. There are no exceptions.
I wonder whether this customary rule reflects a deep-rooted emphasis on courtesy and community, or if it is simply a display of Yale’s cultivated social polish, a ritual signaling that one is now part of a refined, self-aware elite. You are no longer just moving through the world for yourself; you are performing, upholding the civility of an institution that prides itself on its graciousness. Even so, there’s something undeniably absurd about pausing mid-sprint or awkwardly juggling an oversized package just to spare the person behind you a momentary inconvenience.
Stay skeptical of love at Yale.
You meet someone through a mutual friend and instantly hit it off. A standing meal every week becomes multiple. You incessantly text each other with updates of your respective days, and the presence of the common friend slowly depletes. Time passes. They tell you that they have feelings for you and enjoy spending time with you. It’s just crazy how you both talk for hours and how both of you are on the same page. It all seems perfect. They start hinting that they want to come as your date to your college formal and get endearingly jealous when anyone else expresses even a remote interest in you. For you cannot belong to anyone else, even though you are unsure if you belong to them either.
Don’t assume that they want anything serious. It is blasphemous to expect that somebody who has expressed their interest in you might actually be interested in you. Be better. Be smarter. Next time someone tells you they like you, say thank you and promptly change the subject to the weather.
Closely follow the script for career success.
Join the elite ranks of Yale’s most prestigious organizations—after all, your entire future hinges on it. Engage fully as your worth is distilled into a moment of judgment, consume every moment in the unyielding pursuit of recognition. If you fail to make the cut, it’s clear you just don’t have what it takes.
Get rejected from YUCG, and your consulting dreams are over; choke in your Moot Court tryout and you will obviously never make it as a lawyer; mention an interest in writing, and you risk being labeled too afraid to chase a ‘real’ ambition.
Bag internships at BCG, McKinsey, Goldman, JP Morgan, among others, just so you have the luxury of choice. Because at Yale, success isn’t just expected—it’s practically a birthright. But, don’t brag. When asked about summer plans, casually drop it into conversation. “Oh, this summer? Just interning at a few places, you know, nothing major.”
Because remember—you’re only young once. Have fun and go partying! But god forbid you fall behind on work, you are literally a Yale student, how on earth can you be struggling?
Engage in intellectual conversation. Dive into debates about quantum physics over breakfast and dissect metaethics at lunch. But, don’t be boring. Maintain an air of effortlessness and coolness at all times.
Party hard on the weekends. Get that A on Monday. Join 15 clubs but skip weekly meetings to cruise the buttery with your friends. Don’t be too type A and rush into things—but have the summer secured as late as October. And if you fail, you evidently do not deserve a place at Yale.
