Personal essay: the “In-Betweeners”

Rachael Garner/File

“Y“ou can tell who’s a dancer by what they’re wearing,” declared my Adidas track pants-clad, incredibly agile friend as we sat in front of the studio on the second floor of Eshleman Hall, gazing out onto Lower Sproul. Lower Sproul after 6 p.m, in between the consolidation of dance teams
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Off the beat: Labels should be a source of pride

Last night, as I stood on my friend’s balcony, people-watching and staring at the Campanile in the fog, I fell into the trap of making snap judgments about complete strangers. As the various residents of Berkeley strolled down the street, I found myself unconsciously giving each one a title —
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