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Jennifer Yu | Give sports a shot

(05/30/13 2:03am)

In one of my clearest memories, I am 8 years old. It is 6:30 a.m., and I should most certainly still be asleep. Instead, I am sitting on my parents’ bed, holding my breath and trying not to be furious with my father for making me go to bed before finding out who won the previous night’s baseball game. I stare religiously at the television while a reporter for the local news drones on in the background, talking about taxes or property or something else I am far too young to care about.

Jennifer Yu | A summer to remember

(05/23/13 3:05am)

Along with most other people who grow up in the heart of suburbia, I firmly believe my town is the most boring town ever. I grew up in a neighborhood where all the streets are named after writers whose books I didn’t really understand — Faulkner, anyone? — and the most exciting activities are getting high on backyard swing sets and hopscotch on chalk-smeared driveways. Civil disobedience on Thoreau Street came most often in the form of biking without a helmet, and Emerson would have been highly underwhelmed by the “natural splendor” — a few trees that have yet to be cut down — of the road that bears his namesake.