Stanford is apparently renting their list of student names to Playboy. I wish I had time to do an exposé on this.
I should write something about a book we had to read for IHUM, entitled Not Either an Experimental Doll. The book is a collection of letters written by a young black girl in South Africa in the 1950s. She writes to a respected educational elder who ends up making arrangements to bring her to a college, even though she is several years too young. The girl writes of her many troubles — her loneliness at home and at school, her problems relating with boys, her distaste for the school. Obviously I saw some parallels between her story and mine.
In the end, the combined stresses of being away from her family, being teased by classmates, not having any friends, having to deal with puberty, doing work that is surely difficult for her, and so on, all becomes too much and she has a mental breakdown.
As I say, I should write something about it, but I can only think of one word: shocking.