The Gala

Diary Entry: May 21, 2017

Tonight was the “Awards Gala.” It was held in a large, formal restaurant downtown, the kind that feels more like a ballroom. White tablecloths, crystal glasses, and heavy chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. It felt like a wedding for people I didn’t know.

The groups formed immediately. Americans with Americans, joking loudly. Foreigners with foreigners, speaking more quietly. I tried to sit somewhere in the middle, but the geography of the tables didn’t allow for it. I ended up at a table with my own kind.

Then came the awards. They handed out certificates for “academic excellence,” which was predictable, but then for things like “team spirit” and “good humor.” I still don’t know what “good humor” is supposed to mean in a law school context.

The dynamic was strange. We foreigners clapped for everyone. If an American won, we clapped. If one of us won, we clapped. The Americans, however, only clapped for other Americans. When one of us won, they just watched. They didn’t return the applause. Just polite smiles. It was like we were the audience for their family reunion.

The food was expensive and forgettable. As soon as the plates were cleared, the drinking started. The air grew heavy and loud. The men’s faces turned red as they started shouting across tables, and the women’s laughter got sharper, thinner. It felt like everything was dissolving into noise.

I looked over at the professors, sitting at their own table. They were smiling their fake, proud, empty smiles.

After a moment, I stood up and left. No one stopped me. I’m not sure anyone even saw me go.

Outside, the night air was cool and clean. I walked away from the restaurant, my shoes loud on the pavement. I could still hear their laughter echoing in my head.