********* is horny for this one.

In the second semester of my sophomore year, I broke up with my long-term s.o. and made a Tinder set to only women. This semester was also the first time I took a class with R*chel E*endrath. In retrospect, this convergence was no coincidence.

R*chel E*sendrath (give or take a few ***s depending on how intensely I’m tw**ting about her) is the first person significantly over my age for whom I have ever been horny. Something about the way she pushes back her unruly gray hair while she lectures on homoeroticism in Othello…….. jesus. A brilliant mind accented by brilliant blazers. What more could you want?

But RE is far from the only hot professor in the B*rnard *nglish D*partment. M*rgaret V*ndenburg rocks plaid pants while quietly challenging every conception you have about American literary history. T*mea Sz*ll remains an untapped well of creative and humorous power even while sporting the colored hair streak of a teen going to Warp Tour for the first time. M*ry Cr*gan can keep you engaged through six Middlemarch lectures in a row. P*m C*brin runs the Writing and Speaking Centers and teaches kickass classes and dresses better than literally any other professor at Barnard. M*ura Sp*egel, M*ry G*rdon, S*skia H*milton… I could go on.

This must be the reason why the B*rnard *nglish major has one of the highest concentrations of lesbians of any program. Almost all of the professors in that department are incredible in mind, body, aura, etc. Every class I’ve taken with these profs has intensely challenged me in some way, and I don’t just mean challenging me to better understand my own sexuality.

Thank you, MILFs of the B*rnard *nglish D*partment, for teaching me to wear brilliant blazers, critically analyze texts, and fuck… with Columbia University and the Academy at large.

the fourth floor is for wlw via Barnard’s website