I attended a place I never wanted to go: Yale. But when I was 17 years old, my parents ― and a familial urge to be upwardly mobile ― more than overwhelmed my personal and private desire to go elsewhere. So, in 1962, I ended up at that all-male college in New Haven, Connecticut, and, despite the education I received, much of which I genuinely enjoyed, I’ve regretted it ever since. I’ll never forget the bravado, the grim over-the-top bragging about what you had done to women. I’ve never forgotten its style of masculinity or, in a way, recovered from it ― from the feeling, that is, that I wasn’t a man but just some sort of sorry failure.

Source: Huffington Post December 12, 2017 19:07 UTC