Hillbilly Elegy

realized how different I was from my
classmates at Yale, I grew to appreciate
how similar I was to the people back
home. Most important, I became acutely
aware of the inner conflict born of my
recent success. On one of my first visits
home after classes began, I stopped at a
gas station not far from Aunt Wee’s
house. The woman at the nearest pump
began a conversation, and I noticed that
she wore a Yale T-shirt. “Did you go to
Yale?” I asked. “No,” she replied, “but
my nephew does. Do you?” I wasn’t sure
what to say. It was stupid—her nephew
went to school there, for Christ’s sake—
but I was still uncomfortable admitting
that I’d become an Ivy Leaguer. The