Harvard Life

The times, they are a changin'.

In 1926, the typical Harvard student probably lived in a boarding house when he first arrived. By senior year, he moved into a coveted room in the Yard. He probably joined a final club, graduated after earning many gentleman's C's, married a Wellesley woman and became a banker.

In 1966, the typical Harvard student lived in the Yard as a freshman and then moved to a River House for his three upperclass years. His 'Cliffie girlfriend--who lived in the Radcliffe Quad--visited overnight, and together they protested the Vietnam War.

Today, the typical Harvard student still lives in the Yard as a freshman and then in a house, but he may be a she. And he may live up in the old Radcliffe buildings while she lives in a River House.

Coeducational living is only one of many fundamental changes at the College during the past few years. Students in the 1980s have leapt into the pre-professional melee with a vigor that would shock many students of the 1960s and 1970s. Students of the 1920s would be suprised at the geographic and ethnic diversity of each incoming class. In fact, diversity has become the major sales pitch of the admissions staff.

"Come to Harvard and meet students from foreign countries, Northeastern prep schools and Midwest public schools" say the admissions officers. "Meet students who never attended school at all, but learned in their own homes."

"I used to think Harvard was pretty homogeneous--upper middle-class kids," says David C. Hsu '89 of Houston. But after spending a year at the College and working on dorm crew last week, the editor-in-chief of the Harvard Political Review says he has changed his mind and revels in the diversity he has found.

The elitism of yesteryear has waned, but in many ways, Harvard students are still the chosen few. As evidenced by the national and international press coverage of the 350th birthday party earlier this month, America and the world have definite opinions about Harvard and its mystique.

"From outside I think a lot of people think Harvard is elitist," says Charles G. Barnes '88 of Halifax, Nova Scotia. But he adds, "My father is a used car salesman. I didn't even think of applying until the end of grade 11."

There's an old joke: How many Harvard students does it take to screw in a lightbulb? One; he holds the lightbulb, while the world revolves around him.

Students tend to agree with this assessment. "You do get the impression at times here that people believe this is the center of the universe," says Rolf C. Moan '87.

If some think that Harvard holds itself superior to the outside world, most would agree that a certain elitism also exists within Harvard's ivy-covered walls. But the Eastern Establishment does not wield quite as much power as it did in the past.

"I don't think it's as elitist as it was in the past," says Moan, who comes from Eugene, Ore. "I don't think it's as elitist as the public believes."

Still, some old habits die hard. Many of today's Harvard students still opt for the company of small groups of educated men and women for their social life. A few hundred upperclassmen, about 10 percent of Harvard's male population, still join one of the nine all-male final clubs each year. But the University severed ties with the groups in July 1984, after pressure from undergraduate groups opposed to what they viewed as tacit endorsement of elitism and sexism.

"When I heard about them, I thought the whole idea was disgusting," says Matthew Forsyth '87-88, a member of the Phoenix Club. But after meeting the club members, he says, "I joined it as a social organization."

Forsyth says he hangs out at the Phoenix and reads the newspaper there. Forsyth says he believes that barring women is discriminatory, "but I don't think it's inherently wrong."

"You can make the argument that they're elitist, but I'm a scholarship student. And I went to public school," says Forsyth, who rows crew and is also involved in the Crimson Key Society and Model United Nations.

There are also those students who prefer the party scene commonly found at large state universities with thriving fraternity and sorority systems. These students readily complain about the infrequency and dullness of parties on campus. Still, others enjoy the laid-back atmosphere and do-it-yourself social life Harvard has to offer.

Undergraduate Council Chairman Brian C. Offutt '87 of Cleveland Heights, Ohio, says he would favor the establishment of fraternities and sororities at Harvard. "It is a way for people to feel a part of something," he says. "It's like formalized friendship."

Yet, most students prefer the low-pressure atmosphere Harvard has to offer. A typical Saturday night might be spent with a group of one's most intimate friends.

Most students agree that drugs, though readily available, are not as prevalent as on other college campuses. Despite efforts last year by the administration to crack down on underage drinking, one can always find a party with alcohol, and some bars in the Square are known to be less than religious when it comes to carding.

"It's not like schools I've visited where each fraternity has a keg every night," says Daniel Elbaum '87 of Quincy House and Providence, R.I. But he adds, "There's plenty to do on the Harvard campus, and there's certainly plenty to do in Cambridge and Boston."

"An overwhelming majority" of Harvard students have tried drugs, says Dr. Randolph Catlin, chief of mental health services at University Health Service. He attributes the use of drugs to the enormous pressure Harvard puts on its students. "They sometimes take drugs or alcohol to get some relief," he says.

The urban surroundings offer some students more than just a place to go on a Saturday night. For some Harvardians, working with area school children or in homeless shelters is an opportunity to concentrate their attention on someone other than themselves, a vice all too often associated with Harvard students.

"It seemed like a good way to get to know Cambridge," says Moan, who is involved with Phillips Brooks House programs and Currier House's Big Brother program. "It's a side of life you don't get to see as just a student."

Other Harvard students occupy their spare time with pressing political issues of the day, namely divestment of Harvard's $416 million of investments in South Africa-related corporations.

"There's a group of a few hundred kids who are very active in politics," says Noah M. Berger '89, a member of the Southern Africa Solidarity Committee (SASC), a group of divestment activists who constructed a shantytown in the Yard last April.

"With a few exceptions, most of the people who are political are liberal or progressive, with a few nutty conservatives," Berger says. The Cambridge native is also vice president of the Democratic Club and organizer of Students for Bachrach, which campaigns for State Sen. George Bachrach. Bachrach is battling Joseph P. Kennedy II for the the Eighth Congressional District seat, a post once occupied by Kennedy's uncle John F. Kennedy '40 and now held by Thomas P. "Tip" O'Neill Jr.

Although Harvard remains a haven for America's liberal youth, many think the student activism of today lacks the fervor of the war protests of the 1960s. "Some people call it yuppification," says Offutt, who, in his tenure as chairman of the council, favored a depoliticized student government. "Students are more interested in their grades and careers."

Many Harvard students come here planning to try a host of extracurriculars and maintain a grade point average that will win them spots in Harvard Med or jobs with Morgan Stanley in four years. Many Harvard students change those plans.

Rather than doing everything and compiling a resume the length of a walk to the Quad, the typical Harvard student will find one extracurricular and devote a considerable amount of time to it. A clear minority of students choose to devote all their time to studying, and these Harvardians are stereotypically pre-meds.

Elbaum, who until recently was a pre-med, challenges the stereotype. "I haven't seen all the stereotypical people, very few stab-you-in-the-back pre-meds," he says. "There are pre-meds probably involved in every sport. I don't think anyone is a total geek."

Athletics, though not of the scale of big state colleges, still play a role in student life. Harvard's 1985-86 NCAA runner-up hockey team frequently attracted standing-room-only crowds, but The Game--the annual football clash with Yale--is probably the only other sporting event of comparable magnitude.

The Head of the Charles, the October crew regatta, brings Harvardians out in droves, although most ignore the racing boats, preferring to sit on the river banks while picnicking, drinking beer, and enjoying the last days of autumn.

Harvard's lackluster athletic performances can be attributed partially to the fact that it does not offer athletic scholarships. Students also try to uphold the "student-athlete" ideal.

The women's volleyball team, says Stephanie A. Salinas '87, is low-pressured. "Sometimes I wish it were more serious on the volleyball team," she says. "If you really love the sport, it's nice to play with people who are really dedicated."

But the relaxed atmosphere of Harvard athletics also opens up varsity sports to newcomers. Leslie A. Barbi '88 never played water polo until her sophomore year at Harvard. This year she is co-captain of the women's varsity team.

An inexplicable aura pervades Harvard, an aura felt by the students currently enrolled in the College and by the alumni who return to the stomping ground of their youth. "Right around finals time there's a really neat feeling," Salinas says. "You go to Widener Library and think, `Wow, this is Harvard.'"