Hillbilly Elegy

people at Yale Law School are like me.
They may look like me, but for all of the
Ivy League’s obsession with diversity,
virtually everyone—black, white,
Jewish, Muslim, whatever—comes from
intact families who never worry about
money. Early during my first year, after a
late night of drinking with my
classmates, we all decided to stop at a
New Haven chicken joint. Our large
group left an awful mess: dirty plates,
chicken bones, ranch dressing and soda
splattered on the tables, and so on. I
couldn’t imagine leaving it all for some
poor guy to clean up, so I stayed behind.
Of a dozen classmates, only one person
helped me: my buddy Jamil, who also