Quarantine forced us into a monotony we are not used to. I thrive off social interaction, communication and the general liveliness of social circles. Even hearing about the goings-on of others is enough to sustain me. The lack of human connection in my personal life allowed me to appreciate this album at its fullest: “folklore” told me the stories of drama, heartache, and personal growth that I had not heard in months. Thus, because of Swift’s unmatched ability for storytelling, I queued her album on repeat. The album title, according to Oxford Languages, means “beliefs or stories passed through word of mouth.” Swift’s buttery voice does the storytelling and the album chronicles tales of love, friendship, gossip, strength, and individuality.

Swift wrote this record-breaking album during quarantine. Talk about productivity, right? On the day of One Direction’s ten-year anniversary, Swift surprise-dropped “folklore”— a potential slight to ex-boyfriend and former Directioner Harry Styles, who dropped his album on her birthday. The release also completely overshadowed the album drop of Swift’s public enemy Kayne West, which was a serious power move. The shock of this album largely contributed to its success. Her last album, “Lover,” featured arguably her worst singles. That album received limited attention beyond her group of dedicated Swifties. But what did she expect? “ME!” (feat. Brandon Urie of Panic! at the Disco) sounded like a Webkinz theme song.

This album might as well be the complete opposite. The soft indie vibes sparked nostalgia and memories of emotions I haven’t felt since leaving Yale in March. While I certainly have my favorites, there are hardly any skips on this album (although “epiphany” is questionable). Swift doesn’t perform any vocal acrobats on this album, but I’m not mad about it. If anything, it just makes the album far more relatable. Easier to sing along with, too!

Swift’s rich details are her claim to fame. If I didn’t know any better, I would think she took English 120 — every song is a narrative, and her pithy descriptions evoke such poignantly unique emotions. My (awesome) English 120 professor James Surowiecki literally said to the class that everything is within the details: choose one small item and make it central to your story. You can’t tell me Taylor Swift doesn’t do this. ”cardigan”? It’s the whole song. Once again, I suppose that is what makes her music so relatable — but Taylor Swift should never be called cliché.

Time to get down to the nitty-gritty. My favorites of the album are “exile (ft. Bon Iver)” and “illicit affairs.” “exile” is the soundtrack to every movie I’ve ever made in my head: the gut-wrenching cinematic masterpieces where I am the main character, looking out the car window into the pouring rain. To compound the mastery of her lyrical craft, I have always been partial to duets. But when they are depressing? It’s a whole new level of song addiction. I know this song will be at the top of my Spotify Wrapped this year. “illicit affairs” offers the point of view of “the other woman.” It’s powerful and loving and exactly what I expect from Swift. Its bridge is on par with that of Red’s “All Too Well”.

While not every song is my favorite, there are definitely some worthwhile mentions. “the last great american dynasty” delights us with the story of the woman who previously owned Swift’s Rhode Island home. The tie Swift feels to the former homeowner — who eventually is considered to be a mad woman — mirrors the ethos of the album: relationships within songs don’t have to be romantic. Connections are everywhere, even if you don’t see them immediately. “invisible string” perfectly describes such a feeling — ties between strangers, fate, the interconnection of social circles and communication. It’s easy for Swift to convey a storyline, or a connection between a pair, within a song. We have applauded her for doing so many times. “folklore” ups the ante. In a multi-song drama, Swift underscores the relationship between Betty, James, and Inez: three young teenagers who have found themselves in a love triangle. “cardigan” is from Betty’s perspective, “august” from Inez’s, and “betty” from James’. This intertwining of perspective reflects the magic of teenage connection.

Swift’s emotional intelligence truly shines in “Folklore.” For this indie album, she has stripped herself of her typical pop persona. Obviously, Swift is a lyrical mastermind, but she dropped “folklore” at a time when people are particularly emotionally vulnerable due to isolation, and simultaneously looking to “feel” something after weeks of boredom. Taylor Swift gave us the remedy to quarantine that we never knew we needed.

Hailey O’Connor | hailey.oconnor@yale.edu

The post Reviewing Folklore, an Album of Intertwined Connections appeared first on Yale Daily News.

Correlation may not be causation, but it’s certainly no coincidence that screen times have increased with the number of areas under mandatory quarantine. The Washington Post actually used the phrase “through the roof.” It makes sense. ur phones and computers are our connection to the friends we were forced to leave. This uptick is not necessarily a bad thing; we need to stay connected to each other — and the world — while stuck in our houses. Daily walks (if you are able to do so) are insufficient for your former neighborhood extrovert or college social butterfly. We need to text, call and zoom our friends, and we need social media to remind us what life used to be like. Social media provides us with the information, laughs and connections necessary to beat our social heart. While I am cognizant of the dangers of social media, at this time, I truly think it is a universal lifeforce. We are able to stay connected to a “quaran-teen” community that we would have otherwise lost. And every social media platform brings something special to the table. Here, I will delineate the uniqueness of the various platforms in this screen-time-quarantine-time.

         I will begin with Snapchat. Oh, how you bring me such comfort at this time. I look forward to my acquaintances’ daily “streak” picture of the ceiling. It allows me to pretend that nothing has really changed; I am still getting the low-quality snapchats I have always received. However, as I find my own snapscore approaching another 100,000 hurdle, I acknowledge that not all is the same, as I am spending more time on snapchat than I ever have before. I have been snapchatting my friends in the same pajamas for two days straight. People begin to question why I haven’t left my room. I don’t have the heart to tell them I am simply living my best life: laying in my pajamas, in bed, for 13 hours straight.on’t want to make them jealous, ya know? 

         Random boys from high school are starting a streak with me. Should I be concerned? Probably, but I am so bored. At this point, I will talk to anybody. To distract myself from these feeble social connections, I look at people’s snapstories. Too quickly, I force myself to close out of these stories. How many YOLO anonymous questions can I look at? And batches of homemade cookies? The answer lies somewhere around six, anymore and I would probably have maxed out. 

         Now Twitter. I check this app so often that, if I’m lucky, there is maybe one new tweet every time I scroll. Twitter is a fairly reliable source for information. And how else would I find out that President Trump called A-Rod for his coronavirus opinion and that Taylor Swift finally beat Kanye West in their 11-year old feud? I enjoy looking at my governor’s tweets and infographics about which New Jersey counties have found new cases of COVID-19. I follow Yale’s twitter for more updates than the mere four that reach my email daily, and I even won a $25 gift card from Yale University Press for tagging my favorite local bookstore. Woo!

         I don’t tweet much myself. Instead, I find humor in my retweets; I often tell my friends to follow me on Twitter, when they are feeling just a little blue. My humor actually reaches its peak on Twitter. I truly believe that the memes found there are unparalleled across any other social media platform. 

         Once I’m done with Twitter, I usually switch to VSCO — a platform to edit and post pictures without concern for “likes” and whatnot. VSCO, while very popular in my high school, is far less ubiquitous than I once thought. Therefore, there is a bit more artistic freedom here than elsewhere. However, the VSCO photos as of late often mainly consist of poorly lit mirror selfies and pictures of the local park — once again, I can only look at so many. Usually, I can laugh at a few screenshots of texts between a couple that is just SO cute. There are also many dogs and many quotes on this app — which very well may be its saving grace — beyond its stellar collection of filters. VSCO also gives the opportunity to “republish” a photo, which is very similar to “retweeting” a tweet. Yet, you only really look at a VSCO if you are truly internet-stalking a person, or perhaps want to know what is going on inside their head. I love this deep dive, however, so I tolerate the often gag-worthy posts in search of the greater good  (information on people I hardly know).

         As opposed to just scrolling through pictures, now I am ready to “like” my friends’ posts. So Instagram, here we come! The quarantine has really made me sick of you. All I see are old vacation photos, and I hope I don’t see new ones. Don’t even get me started on the Instagram stories. “Draw a carrot and then nominate three others to do the same.” Sorry, I am not THAT bored. “See 10 pushups, do 10 pushups—nominate two others.” m, no? “Kick a roll of toilet paper like a soccer ball and see how long you can do it.” ell, I guess now we know where all the toilet paper is going. “Post a selfie and tag other beautiful women to empower them.”kay, I can get behind this, but I don’t like all of these nomination events. And these “until tomorrow” posts? Not a fan. Instagram used to be a place where I enjoyed looking at my friends’ photos, stalking new people and sending memes. Now, I can barely tolerate it. I hope Instagram reverts back to its golden pre-quarantine days soon. 

         Facebook, boy have you really taken this time to shine. You’ve always kept me in the loop about Yale’s latest endeavors and student-driven movements. For example, the Universal Pass movement caught a lot of traction on Facebook, and I think that is very cool usage of a social media platform. I joined a Facebook group called “Zoom memes for Self QuaranTeens,” which always gives me a good smile. I love seeing my fellow university students acting like clowns over the internet. For instance, the silly zoom backgrounds everyone displays while in the middle of a serious class. Too good. Facebook, while typically very good for information and events, has particularly been enjoyable for me over this quarantine. This one may factor in to my increased screen-time.

         TikTok. You are to blame for my self-disdain every Sunday. Addicting is what you are. You compel me to bombard my friends with links to funny videos, and my left thumb is stronger because of my scrolling. The quarantine jokes on this app are insanely creative. Even if they aren’t creative, and I have seen them 1000 times, I still laugh. This quarantine, I have been seeing a lot of home workout videos (which are not always welcome) and videos of high school senior girls in prom dresses they will never wear. This past week, though, the college decision videos have also tickled my fancy. Keep up the good-work TikTok. I knew you would carry me through this time. 

         The darkhorse in this race deserves a brief mention — Houseparty. I haven’t heard that name in years. However, my good friend demanded that it make a comeback and indeed, it has. I am often receiving notifications that my friends are “in the house.” The wild part about Houseparty is that anybody can join your “room,” or the group facetime that you are in. This adds just a little spice to your nighttime routine. I like you, Houseparty. You are the closest thing I have to Woads. Quarantine has been just as good to you as you have been to my social needs. 

         Does Zoom count as social media? Asking for a friend. Either way, I am definitely a fan. Great audio systems, and I love how the person speaking goes onto the “big screen.” It is a little hard to take my teachers seriously, though, over a computer screen. I wish we didn’t have to Zoom, but as far as a video-platform goes, not half bad!

         Maybe I am the only one with a technological addiction; maybe I don’t need to take two showers a day just so I can listen to my Spotify in peace; maybe I don’t need to analyze my days through the lens of social media memes. But at the end of the day, I am what I am, and I do what I do and I am not ashamed. These social media platforms remind me of who I once was and who I can still become. I can do the TikTok workout routines while learning how to sew. I can do it all. We have all this time now, don’t we? There is no way to learn anything, sans the internet. And if all I learn is a better sense of humor? So be it. It’s called self-improvement, and I can thank my social media inspiration for it.

Hailey O’Connor | hailey.oconnor@yale.edu

The post Quaran-teen appeared first on Yale Daily News.

Thanksgiving was a while ago and I was lucky enough to spend the holiday with my family—my little cousin included. Cori, just under three years old, is the youngest cousin in the extended family and therefore my go-to when I think of children. When she was born, I was old enough to understand and remember; I have watched her grow. And these past three years, I have not been impressed. Perhaps it’s because of my uncle’s new method of parenting called “never say no to your child”, but Cori is poorly behaved. The other day, she ran around with ear-splitting screams about monsters in the house (the “monsters” were her other cousins). She was also sick, so she was running around coughing and sneezing—right near the food and everybody else. She entertained the party with a large, automated Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer stuffed animal, incessantly playing its out-of-tune theme song. To this song, she ceaselessly performed the exact same dance show for two hours, dragging the whole family to watch at one point or another. While I may not be an expert in the child department, I feel that her behavior was fairly on-brand for a toddler. I was not impressed.

Cori produces too much noise for me to even appreciate her antics. She, along with other children I have met during my limited years, just go on and on—either talking or crying. The quantity of noise produced by children, and its capacity to irritate, is limitless. A child’s cry hit my ears like the proverbial nails on a chalkboard. Their screams are ghoulish and their speech, for far too long, is incomprehensible. To make matters worse, these sounds are not background noise. The noise is consistently brought to the foreground by the people taking care of them. Someone’s always worried about what the child is doing, how the child is doing, or whether the child has enough entertainment. And the adults, being the ever-devoted caregivers, must resolve the problem. The noise produced through these endeavors, however, ruins holidays, events, and conversations.

The other day I attended a talk by Dr. Yusef Salaam, a member of the notorious, but wrongfully convicted, Central Park Five. Listening to his story and his unwavering faith in God was both inspiring and moving. I guarantee, however, that his poignant, echoing words would have had a far greater impact if there had not been multiple children crying throughout the presentation. I cannot blame the children for crying—children have not yet developed the situational awareness that is necessary for good social graces. However, I do believe it is the parents’ responsibility to know whether their child is well-behaved enough to bring to such a serious event.

A child enters the room and, all the sudden, “goo-goo-ga-ga” comes to life. It has been hard to have a genuine conversation with my uncle ever since my cousin was born, since he’s always giving his child a nauseating amount of non-stop attention. This seems to be a par for the course, though, as far as adults are concerned — the “adult” dialogue ends when a child enters the room. The child is now the new conversation topic: what is she coloring, who dressed her SO adorable this morning, how much she looks like her parents, why was she crying, and does she want to eat?  I miss being able to put attention on something more productive than a child’s coloring book. I miss the family discussions and conversations I used to have with my young, cool uncle.

The amount of “cuteness” a child offers does little or nothing for me. Maybe it is just preference or a subconscious desire to be unique, but I do not find children cute. I see kids—and then I see germs and boogers. I see barrettes and little matching pajama sets. I see easy Christmas and birthday gifts coming in the various forms of toys, baby shoes, and pop-up books. But beneath the carefully-selected outfit that will be stained at the end of the hour, I do not see a cute child.

I’m not sure if I will ever catch “baby fever”. I don’t feel pressure to have children from my parents, my grandma, society, or anyone else for that matter. I do, however, think that if you do not have children, it is always something that will be noticed about you. Being “childless” becomes a part of your identity — you either become the doting aunt without any kids, or the traveling, workaholic aunt without any kids. Apparently, if I don’t have kids, “I won’t know what I am missing”. I am just confused on why people never say it the other way around — you will never know what you are missing if you do have kids. You could miss the next big promotion or never travel around the world or maybe never even acquire financial stability. Oftentimes, the “happiness points” that are lost after having children can be attributed to this continuing and intense financial burden of children. One article by the Washington Post delves into the statistics behind their article title “It Turns Out Parenthood is Worse than Divorce, Unemployment — even the Death of a Partner”. Children will not make an already happy person happier, nor will they make an unhappy person happy. Any “happiness surplus” from children will usually be swallowed by their associated financial stress. Greater anxiety, depression and marriage dissatisfaction are more common in marriages with children than those without. It is interesting to note, however, that child-related unhappiness is far more common in the United States than in any other country. Perhaps this is due to the pedestaled idea of American freedom —  and therefore a fear of deep commitment; I can’t say I don’t buy into this. Children are not for everyone; I don’t feel the need to see them at every event I go to. I don’t appreciate the constant head space they take up. And I definitely do not (as of now) want them for myself.

Hailey O’Connor | hailey.oconnor@yale.edu

The post Sorry, I Don’t Want to Babysit appeared first on Yale Daily News.

Most Yale students can relate to the “never say no” mantra I had in high school. I needed to do anything and everything I could in order to build my résumé for college. After all, what college wouldn’t want such a well-rounded student? If I hated the activity (most of the time I did) and had a horrible time (also happened frequently), at least I could build enough character to have a nice personal development arc in my Common App essay.

Even still, I had to be honest with myself; there was no need for me to be a member of the Future Business Leaders of America — I want to be an English major and have absolutely no desire to become a businesswoman. Did I have to be a student leader for these elementary school children? No, because I don’t like children. And why on Earth was I still a Girl Scout, when I hadn’t sold a box of cookies in three years?

I definitely was doing these activities for the wrong reasons, and therefore, wasting my time.

I think we are all well-aware of just how precious our time is. Transitioning into Yale, I wanted to leave a lot of my extracurriculars in high school and adjust to the new (and far more challenging) academic climate. I also had to worry about making friends. In the beginning of my first year, I attended many open houses and club meetings, only to never show up again (sorry).  And now, though many Yale extracurriculars come knocking at my door (occasionally this happens literally), I have the freedom to say no. Instead, I choose to fill my time with activities I actually enjoy. 

I finally quit saying yes when all I wanted to do is say no.

And so throughout my first semester, I watched my friends join clubs they did and didn’t like, learned about the different cultures and intensities of club sports teams, and took four intro classes because I didn’t really know how hard this school is. I was an observer — and I liked it. I figured out what I wanted and what I wanted to do here. Saying “no” to random extracurriculars was the best thing I could have done for myself. 

This decision, however, has been harder to follow through with than I first expected. While now I love everything I do, I am not doing too much. The ironic part of this is while I get to spend more time with friends, I feel a sense of extracurricular FOMO. I don’t want to be doing something else, but everyone else is — so what should I be doing?

Quitting saying the faux “yes” would have to apply to my personal life as well. I usually didn’t struggle to say “no” to things — socially at least. However, over the past few months, when people text me asking to go grab Donut Crazy, go to the Silliman HIIT classes hungover, or go study in Bass even when I have absolutely no homework, I’ve found it very hard to say no. It may be because I feel that if I say no once to a friend (usually a newer one), I will permanently taint the friendship with my rejection. Or maybe it really just is, once again, FOMO. 

Regardless, at these times I go with my gut — if I don’t want to, I literally force myself to say no. There is no craft behind these little rejections. I just feel like saying my answer—no excuse, no lies, no sugar-coating—is enough of an answer.

I also feel a bit powerful by doing so. After saying no, I can go off and do whatever it is I want. I can get my ever-necessary nine hours of sleep, or finally get around to washing the laces of my frat shoes. I can literally do anything. How could somebody not want this type of freedom? Knowing what I want, and having the balls to say no to what I don’t want, may be one of the best things I could do for myself. 

Now, that is self-care.

Hailey O’Connor | Contact hailey.oconnor@yale.edu

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