"It’s Supposedly Haunted,” Amy Chua says brightly as she ushers me into the cavernous antechamber of the New Haven home she shares with fellow Yale Law School professor Jed Rubenfeld. Chua helped me find the sprawling Tudor-Gothic stone edifice by noting its “weird chimneys and griffins.” This is the house from which Chua and
Rubenfeld—Chubenfeld, as they’re semiderisively known on campus—once held court. Yale Law, the top-ranked in the country, is both intellectual hothouse and finishing school for the American elite, and for the past two decades, the couple was “the self-appointed social center of the entire institution,” as one former friend on the faculty puts it. “They had the ability to create spectacle, to make themselves the center of a conversation.” Yale Law is not only the place where Bill and Hillary Clinton met and that has graduated four sitting Supreme Court justices. It promises intimacy, and is half-jokingly referred to as Montessori law school. Only 200 students enroll each year, less than half of Harvard’s 1L class. In turn, these students are set afloat on even smaller boats of 16 to 18 students—the “small group”— captained by a single faculty member who introduces them to the world of the law and of Yale Law School.
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der June 7 - 20, 2021-Ausgabe von New York magazine.
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Diese Geschichte stammt aus der June 7 - 20, 2021-Ausgabe von New York magazine.
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