My Education

During the last few months, I’ve taken to tossing around the acronym “CHE” and am surprised when my friends don’t instantly know what I’m talking about. For some reason, after explaining it once, I assumed that my friends should remember what it meant, seeing as how it has quickly grown from being my newest extracurricular activity to my favorite. (Or second-favorite … intramural inner-tube water polo might give it a run for its money, but that’s another story for another blog. Stay tuned.) CHE stands for Community Health Educators, one of Yale’s community service groups, which I joined at the beginning of this past semester (http://www.yale.edu/che/about.html). CHE was founded in 1999 as an answer to New Haven’s lack of an institutional health education program for middle and high school students. Health education is sometimes taught in science classes, sometimes in other classes, and sometimes not at all. After a New Haven high school counselor spoke with a Dwight Hall Public School Intern (Dwight Hall is Yale’s umbrella service organization, the largest of its kind in the world), CHE was formed. Today, more than 150 volunteers present workshops in 22 schools to address topics like nutrition, drug & alcohol use, and healthy relationships.

Dwight Hall

I joined CHE for a number of reasons. One of my main motivations was a conversation that I had last summer with a friend whom I met through a research internship in Lausanne, Switzerland. At one point I mentioned sex education, the at-times-excruciatingly-awkward-but-let’s-face-it-ultimately-important rite of passage through which every sixth, ninth, and twelfth grader underwent in my school system, and one of my friends asked, "What’s that?” I was somewhat baffled that someone as well-educated as my friend had never heard of sex ed. When I returned to campus in the fall, I decided to get involved in CHE.

As excited as I was, I could not have imagined how incredible teaching would be. It has been a growing experience, as I’ve learned to handle difficult questions and controversial topics, and to always remain non-judgmental. My job is to deliver accurate information and, as a college student, to do so as the students’ peer. Most exciting is the realization that I am making an impact on these students. Whether a student lingers after class to speak about something that clearly is burdening him or her, or an initially silent classroom, by the end, is buzzing with questions and answers, I realize that I am often one of the only reliable sources of sexual education in these students’ lives. I leave each classroom exhilarated and eager to return.

CHE is the type of program that could wash away any cynicism you might have toward community service. In fact, the program has been so eye-opening that, in combination with several other factors, it’s prompted me to consider a career in public health. While I’ve always wanted to be a doctor, I hadn’t looked into public health and now that I’ve begun exploring the field, it seems to be a perfect fit. I’ve been spending massive amounts of time over break looking into public health internships and graduate programs and I’ve enjoyed every minute of it.

Although it’s wonderful to be home on break, I can’t wait to get back and to begin teaching in classrooms again next semester. If I’m lucky, not only will I teach in receptive classrooms and know that I’ve made a difference, but I’ll be assigned to the high school that “looks like a spaceship,” according to the information sheet. What could be better?

A sneak peek at the spaceship-high school (it doesn't do it justice).

I Should Tell You

For years, I’ve had to hide a deep, dark secret from my friends. I’ve struggled with feelings of embarrassment, shame, and guilt. I’ve been confronted with laughter, confusion, and the occasional empathetic soul. My terrible secret is this: I am 100%, head-over-heels, obsessed with musical theater.

An actress or director might have no problem admitting this. But in high school, as a sensible science student uninvolved with theater, I learned that I am not expected to fall prey to the kitschy Broadway musical. Yet since the tender age of twelve, when my friends and I memorized Rent, this obsession has only grown. From Rent, I moved on to Bye Bye Birdie. Then I discovered Sondheim. “On the Steps of the Palace” became my shower song. (Anyone who enjoys that song as much as I do, COMMENT! We’ll chat.)

When I came to Yale, I was discreet at first. Sure, my alarm clock blared South Pacific, but that was it. Then came Jonathan Edwards Culture Draw. JE, my residential college, holds a lottery each semester that allows about 60 students to see a musical, play, opera, ballet, or concert in New York City, fully funded by the college. The only cost is the $28 round-trip Metro North train ticket. Well, that was the end of my secrecy.

I’ve been extremely lucky and through JE, I have now seen (in NYC):
-Sunday in the Park with George
-All My Sons
-and Aida (the opera).

Here in New Haven, I've gone to:
-Into the Woods at the Dramat (with a student cast)
-Death of a Salesman (with Charles Dutton) at the Yale Repertory Theater (where Meryl Streep and Edward Norton once played)
-and original plays by my classmates.

In past two weeks alone, I've seen (in New Haven/at Yale):
-The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee
-Carousel
-A Chorus Line
-and Pop! (an original new musical at the Yale Rep.)

Finally, this semester, I decided to take – along with biochemistry, physics, physics lab, and physical chemistry – History of the American Musical Theater with Prof. Dan Egan. I had to fight against my instincts to take a “serious” fifth class. But taking this class was one of my best choices at Yale. It’s one of those courses people refer to when they say you should use college to explore, to take random classes to broaden your passions.

I’ve gained a deeper appreciation for the intricacies of the theater I’ve always loved. I can now defend myself when someone refers to musicals as “kitsch” and explain that, well, if you would just look at Joseph Swain’s theory regarding the inverted tritones in West Side Story, you’ll see that musicals are as thoroughly constructed as any thesis-based essay. (Obviously.) All pretentious joking aside, I look forward to doing my homework and I’m constantly glad I decided to take this course.

Speaking of which, it’s getting late and it’s time for me to crawl into bed and listen to Sweeney Todd, one of my assigned soundtracks for the week. I will simply leave you with this – no longer a confession, but a declaration – I, Hallie Rozansky, Yale Class of 2011, am a proud lover of musical theater.

My Crowning Achievement

(Miranda, on the left, as an upside-down tulip (she did a head stand for the official competition) and me, on the right, as the right-side-up version.)

October 25. The day has come. I wake up and scour my room for green tights. I rummage through the pile of clothes on the floor (parents, if you read this, I will deny that this pile exists) in search of anything brightly-colored that will substitute as a headdress. One block away, my best friend goes through the same routine. Five minutes later, we meet in the courtyard of JE. We’re ready. Covered in red and pink and green from head to foot, we have become tulips.

Today is Tulip Day in Jonathan Edwards College, our annual event filled with tulip planting, pumpkin carving, cake eating, and general merriness. The highlight of the day (at least for those of us in costume) is the crowning of the Tulip Queen and this year, my best friend and I are determined to win the title. Last year, we found out that as long as you a) are an adorable baby and b) have spirited parents (aka the Dean of the college and his wife), you’re a shoe-in. But as cute as Serena is, I couldn’t let her win Tulip Queen two years in a row – the success would go to her head. So instead, I spent five minutes in front of the mirror securing an umbrella to my head in the most petal-like arrangement I could manage, and off I went.

Luckily for me, even the threat of being dethroned couldn’t wake my Dean’s daughter from her nap and with the reigning champion asleep in her crib, my best friend and I achieved an easy victory, receiving fabulous JE fleece blankets as prizes. After taking our victory photo and cutting the tulip cake, I sat down for some tulip planting and pumpkin carving and was reminded again of why I’m obsessed with Jonathan Edwards College.

Yes, Jonathan Edwards has become my home and family within Yale. Yes, our intramural sports teams are basically legendary. (Contest that if you dare, Silliman and TD.) But most importantly, as a JE spider, I’ve learned to wear outlandish costumes with pride. Whether auditioning for our “mock-appella” group (that’s mock-a cappella, also known as lots of people singing loudly and badly), or dressing up for our annual JE Halloween costume contest, I love having the excuse to don that ugly floral dress with the shoulder pads, tie an umbrella to my head, or toss on that platinum blonde wig. And just in case the pride of winning Tulip Queen 2009 doesn’t last me my whole life (although I’m pretty sure it will), there’s always Tulip Day 2010.