As part of my Intro to Neo-Liberal Discourse on Class Divisions midterm, I had to research feudal class structures. But why excavate history, I thought, when the data was sitting before me as plainly as a stoner before the Office of Student Rongs and Reactivity?
So, with my high-tech journalistic recording device (that is definitely not an iPhone) in hand and my best knockoff Docs on my feet, I began investigating the nobility of today—the rich kids of Lewis & Clark.
My first interview was with a pierced and overalled femboy named Cole Gate ’26 (not after the toothpaste, they insisted) from the San Francisco slums. When asked to elaborate, they specified their home as the Pacific Heights neighborhood, where the average home price hovers around a squalid $3 million.
After the outfit compliments and obligatory comparison of what part of the Bay we are from, I started off our conversation with the basic bait that every rich person likes to brag about: travel.
“So last weekend I was in Athens as an early end of fifth semester gift from my great aunt’s hairdresser’s cousin and you wouldn’t BELIEVE how grubby the Parthenon was,” Gate said. “I mean, have they ever heard of a remodel? Marble is so 400s BC.”
The only Athens I had been to was the one in Georgia. When I mentioned I had never been out of the United States, I was hit with the old reliable, “Why not?! You should totally go. It’s so worth it.” Because, of course, everyone chooses not to jet off to the Caribbean because they are mortally scared of dolphins, and not because of the hundreds of foot pics they would need to sell to afford it.
With such abundant options to interview, I found my next subject in Britknee le Bone ’24, the Waldorf-schooled daughter of a paleontologist and a famous orthopedic surgeon who wears edible clothing as “feminist critiques.” Over a light snack of grilled salami pants pockets (light due to the miniature nature of womens’ pockets), I asked Le Bone about her post grad plans.
“Well first I am gonna get an RV and road trip through South America with nine of my closest friends for a year or so, and then probably go get a PhD because, like, how am I supposed to find my spiritual path in just four years?” Le Bon said.
When asked about what degree she would be interested in pursuing, Le Bone first expressed surprise that PhDs are not one size fits all, unlike her meat-oil lubricated pants. She then admitted a potential preference toward law, to follow in the footsteps of the great Elle Woods.
“Ultimately, it does not really matter because my parents said I can just live in their beach house in the Hamptons if this whole education thing fails to pan out,” Le Bone added cheerfully.
Finally, I discussed the recent graffiti with a student who wishes to remain anonymous for fear of being outed to their communist friend group as a descendant of The Man, capitalism running hot through their veins. They wear clothes exclusively from the bins and complain about student loans loudly and frequently in order to maintain their secret identity. (Their parents manage a hedge fund and an extensive real estate portfolio.)
“I completely agree with the tags about homework,” the student said. “How can a school that I decided to attend and go to all the work of having my parents pay for ask me to put in effort? It is exploitative of our youth to feed the academic machine.”
After my comprehensive research, I felt more than ready to churn out my econ essay, exploiting myself as I was by putting in effort. These students are so brave for living with such privilege on a campus such as this—I hope that as each interviewee reads this article they know they are not alone in this brutal world.
Heck, maybe just as a tribute to these brave interviewees I’ll throw in “Just print more money” as my closing line. That always invites the admiration of econ professors!