Spending Time at Y(y)eshiva
Daniel Nagel
Issue date: 2/15/05 Section: Opinion
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People love it when I go to new places. It gives them another opportunity to ask meaningless questions. And because I am from the West Coast and now in a new environment, I'm constantly bombarded with the question "How is YU?" Mostly, I answer nonchalantly with a timeless "fine," doing the question and answer little justice. After all, asking the question is a gesture of good will, a protocol of socially accepted behavior.
Though it sounds cynical and deprecating, I doubt most people care all too much how YU is treating me. I too am guilty of asking the question, albeit with regard to different venues. The question is as harmless as it is insincere. But every now and then, the question comes from someone who sincerely cares about the answer more than the question. Truthfully, in those situations, the nebulous "fine" is no answer at all.
Answering "How is YU" cannot be accomplished in a simple one-liner; there are multiple facets to the question and implicit assumptions that must be answered. A few weeks ago, I ate a Shabbat meal with some friends at the home of a young couple, both of whom were recent YU graduates. As such, the eternal question was quickly and non-discretely broached: "How's YU?" they both asked. "Pretty good," my friend answered. The host began to analyze my friend's wooly but standard response. If we employ some Talmudic tools, we can discern that he said it was "pretty good," a modification of good. But did the "pretty" modify the "good" or the "good" reflect on the "pretty?" It was clear no one at the table was in the mood for linguistic pilpul.
Whatever it did or did not do, the question remained unanswered. Articulate answers using informative descriptions such as good, pretty good, or fine do not suffice. College is a new environment and, like all new experiences, has its challenges and conflicts. If it is these conflicts that the question is addressing, how can we offer an answer at an after shul Kiddish while balancing an overflowing bowl of chulent in one hand and potato kugel in another?
Though it sounds cynical and deprecating, I doubt most people care all too much how YU is treating me. I too am guilty of asking the question, albeit with regard to different venues. The question is as harmless as it is insincere. But every now and then, the question comes from someone who sincerely cares about the answer more than the question. Truthfully, in those situations, the nebulous "fine" is no answer at all.
Answering "How is YU" cannot be accomplished in a simple one-liner; there are multiple facets to the question and implicit assumptions that must be answered. A few weeks ago, I ate a Shabbat meal with some friends at the home of a young couple, both of whom were recent YU graduates. As such, the eternal question was quickly and non-discretely broached: "How's YU?" they both asked. "Pretty good," my friend answered. The host began to analyze my friend's wooly but standard response. If we employ some Talmudic tools, we can discern that he said it was "pretty good," a modification of good. But did the "pretty" modify the "good" or the "good" reflect on the "pretty?" It was clear no one at the table was in the mood for linguistic pilpul.
Whatever it did or did not do, the question remained unanswered. Articulate answers using informative descriptions such as good, pretty good, or fine do not suffice. College is a new environment and, like all new experiences, has its challenges and conflicts. If it is these conflicts that the question is addressing, how can we offer an answer at an after shul Kiddish while balancing an overflowing bowl of chulent in one hand and potato kugel in another?
2008 Woodie Awards