One of my earliest memories upon setting foot on campus was seeing our 6-foot 8-inch beds, those long wire-webbed frames on which no sheets and no blankets ever really fit and that everyone called racks. Even my Iowa public school education had informed me racks were medieval torture instruments. Failing the posture test did not improve my jittery conviction that measuring up in the months ahead was going to be brutal. Stretching my legs out in bed that first night where my toes could not find the reassurance of a bottom, Gulliver in Brobdingnag, I had the queasy sense that I was in for a perilous journey.
– James Glickman