The Yale Layer exists in solidarity with the mental health narratives of Yale students.
I’m sure none of us thought that our year would end up this way. I remember beginning my junior year full of ambition and excitement for the many traditions that now seem so futile and distant. Now, sitting in my childhood bedroom under a shelter-in-place order, my priorities have shifted.
When school first closed down, I would read the news as often as I could. I would take in all of the information and watch the case count grow every time I refreshed the page. Now, I am afraid to read the news. The numbers are so high that my brain can’t comprehend the situation anymore.
With all of this going on, taking care of ones mental health may seem inconceivably impossible. Mental health services may not even exist in some of your communities. I’ve tried to think of answers and ways to improve my mental health state during this time. At this point, I too, am at a loss.
I am still navigating my own mental health. Sometimes, I don’t even know where or how to begin. That’s why this edition is so unbelievably beautiful. It represents the resilience and strength of the writers, artists, and board members. It reflects the many ways our community members acknowledge and communicate their experiences. It offers a source of student body cohesion, even when we are scattered across the world. To all the contributors and members of The Layer, I can only say thank you.
As we continue to traverse this difficult time, remember to cherish the connections you have, both close and remote. And to our readers, know that The Layer is forever your resource.
Yours,
Lauren Cueto
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I’ve found it nearly impossible to write about our current situation. Anything I write seems both overly theatrical and grossly insufficient to describe how I’m feeling right now. And it seems pointless to even try to write, when I know that all of you must be feeling this way too. Taking care of our mental health is an excruciatingly difficult and complex task right now, and I have no tips or tricks for you. I’m just trying to figure out each day, one at a time.
This edition is a collection of works by our classmates, some written before we left campus, some after. It came together disjointedly, as we all adjusted to remote work from our scattered homes. It is certainly not the themed edition we had hoped to present last month, nor the curated capstone we’d planned to print at the end of the semester. But I think it’s a truly honest representation of this moment, and that’s all I could ever hope for any Layer edition.
I don’t have much more to say that hasn’t already been repeated in every email or article from the past few weeks. I would just like you to know that the Yale Layer remains, as always, an outlet and resource for you. And, even though this is the last edition of the year, please continue sending me your pieces – if you are a writer, I am here as your reader.
Your Editor-in-Chief,
Rebecca Ju
By Lauren Cueto and Rebecca Ju.
Lauren served as the 2020-2021 President of The Yale Layer.
Rebecca served as the 2020-2021 Editor-In-Chief of The Yale Layer.
