That guy in the new pastel vest is probably paying part of my tuition. He wears nice boots, and jackets full of geese, but his parents paid for my breakfast this morning. And surely, he does not know how to salvage a pair of shoes with some scotch tape for a few months; I guess we can’t have it all. Over the last few weeks, there have been some days when buildings with gilded names have looked down with cold stares. These are the days when I’ve looked at this man and wondered how comfortable he must feel in a classroom he paid to sit in.