harvardian superstitions

After all, the University is supposed to be a bastion of objectivity and rationality...Right? FM found that amidst the seekers of pure Veritas are those who are anything but rational. Whether it's determining where to live or what to do, students show a propensity for numerology and a distaste for the wrong side of a ladder. Self-described skeptics abound, buRTLÄen they knock on wood come room lottery time.

"Why the hell would I want to believe that dropping a spoon means that a woman is coming to visit me?" asks first-year Abigail E. Baker. "Or that dropping a fork means a man is coming?"

These superstitions, passed down from Baker's Hungarian grandmother, are among the more unusual. But everyone knows the basic drill: Don't let a black cat cross your path. Don't open an umbrella indoors. Don't walk under a ladder. Breaking a mirror means seven years of bad luck.

Superstition is not required of Harvard students. Not even for Folk and Myth concentrators. (But my roommate can certify that I dropped a fork at lunch this week. When can I expect my man to arrive?) Still, many sympathize with first-year Nailah P. Robinson, whose rationalism has its limits . "I don't believe in superstitions," says Robinson, "but I don't want to take chances."

Stephen A. Mitchell, Professor of Scandinavian and Folklore, and current chair of the Committee on Folklore & Mythology, takes a similar approach. "When I spill salt, I throw it over my shoulder," he remarks, pantomiming the motion. Mitchell says he learned this superstition from watching his parents but is not bothered that none of his children observe it. seems a breach of table manners.

Hurlbut proctor Darren Walker '92, either braver or more foolish than most, boasts, "I open umbrellas inside," Yet Walker admits he is "aware of it every time that I do."

Sophomore Julia E. Starkey attributes to etiquette certain habits which may seem superstitious. As Starkey points out, not saying "God bless you" to someone who sneezes is rude, "even if you know in your rational little mind" that you are not" allowing demons to go into her nose."

Joe Levy, who is active in Harvard theater, implies that he is not susceptible to many of the superstitions of his colleagues. "I go on and off about not walking under ladders," says Levy, "but I stopped recently because it bothers the people I work with [in plays]". Yet Levy remains uneasy about his role in an injury that occurred in a recent play rehearsal. "I made the mistake of mentioning to someone that this show was my first without an injury," Levy reveals. "He was taken to the hospital the next day."

Terrell McSweeny '97 says she "comes from a good Irish family with all sorts of rules about spilled salts." Her family wards off plane crashes with a superstition inherited from one of her father's war buddies. Sitting on an airplane before take-off, McSweeney recites a line modified from the Song of Solomon, "Arise, my love, and fly again." As a child, her whole family would link hands and say this; now she mutters it under her breath when she flies alone. "I think it's embarrassing every now and again," she admits, but adds that she would not feel comfortable flying without reciting.

First-year Karen C. Kim says that all the beds in her home face in one direction--she's not sure which. Kim explains that this superstition is culturally infRTLd. But "it makes rearranging my room difficult," she complains.

According to Adon Hwang '98, it is a Korean custom that beds should not face North because that's the direction in which dead people are buried, "I guess you could call it a superstition," he says. "I wouldn't want to say that I'm superstitious, though. It's just one of those random things your parents ask you to do. I mean, you wouldn't call your mom superstitious, would you? "

Rooming

Rooming brings out the superstition in Harvard students like nothing else.

"It's just our way of pretending that we have some control over this random process," muses a junior. "Harvard students hate to think that they have no influence over something so important."

First-years, as well as those hoping to escape from (or to) the Quad, have already submitted their forms to the great equalizer: the God of Randomization. Although the hardcore statistics majors (all three) and other naysayers resign themselves to pure happenstance, others on campus try desperately to beat the odds. These go-getters attempt to battle the logic of randomization with pure superstition. Is this at odds with the student body's veneer of educated objectivity? Not al all. As one first-year put it, "The whole randomization process is about numbers, so it there's any way to beat it, numerology would be it."

First-year Helen Newman suggests equating numbers with letters (A=1, B=2, etc.) when selecting houses. "The numbers in my name, H + E + L + E + N, are 8 + 5 + 12 + 5 + 14. Plus, my last name, Newman, 14 + 5 + 23 + 13 + 1 + 14. Plus the letters in Leverett, 12 + 5+ 22 + 5 + 18 + 5 + 20 + 20. Add those and you get 221. Then divide that by the number of houses, 13, and you get 17." Newman explains that calculations for no other house name yielded at integer. "It's the only' whole number house' for my name!" she exclaims. "Yeah, my roommates sort of roll their eyes at me."

"I'm really superstitious about numbers," Newman says. "I keep my calculator with me always." When picking colleges, Newman added the numbers corresponding to the name "Harvard" with those corresponding to her own name. She discovered that "it all comes out to 72, and I was born on the 27th, then 3x3x3...."

For some, the process of beating the system began with their choice of rooming partner. "I guess you could call it numerology," says first-year Alex Trias. Trias says she consulted horoscopes and lucky numbers in her quest for the right roommate. "Two people in our blocking group are Scorpios, and our lucky numbers are eight. We decided which housing slip to fill out by that number."

Trias' future roommate, Lorana Duerte, agrees. "We didn't exactly choose the block because of our signs, but we do all balance. [Alex and I] are the ones who are into numerology. Everyone else just puts up with us."

One blocking group went to Au Bon Pain the night before the housing sheets were due, and filled out the entire form consulting a Magic 8 Ball.

"Mather?"

"Sources point to YES!" Magic 8 Balls were a favorite among the first-years interviewed. No one admitted owning a Ouija board, but tarot cards and the I-ching abounded. Mystic Rosa, the fortune teller on the corner of Bow St. and

HouseSuperstitious ways to ensure your first choice in the lottery Adams   Eat in the dining hall at least once a day... But as first years, you probably do already. Cabot  Don't talk to anyone for the rest of the month. Don't visit anyone. Skip a lot of classes. Currier  Declare your room in the Yard a temple to the God of the lottery. Lock your first-year roommate out, and get used to having a single, Rearrange your furniture to suite yourself. Dunster  Shave your head the night Before lottery results. Cultivate a sullen and disaffected air. Eliot Comp the Crimson Key. Kirkland  Sorry. Noting but a direct line with God will guarantee you a place here. Leverett  Is this really your first choice? Lowell  No one's that passionate about Lowell. Don't stress. Mather  Drop your clothes and steak through the bathhouse. Streak through the MAC. Streak through the Grill. Pforzheimer  Call it Pforzheimer, not North. Quincy  This isn't your first choice, either. Winthrop  Assign Melrose Place character parts to each of your blockmates. Figure out exactly how long Matt appears on each episode. face Winthrop each day for that amount of time. Gossip religiously. Arrow St., is always available forconsultation.

A certain gifted Eliot house resident claimsthat by simply sleeping on a list of a blockinggroup's housing choices, he can guarantee "threeout of four times" that they will get their topchoice. As his roommate recalls, "He claimed tohave dreams about the houses...When he claimedthat he knew with absolute certainty our lotterynumber, we called him on it. He said he wouldn'ttell us because it would jinx us, so he put thenumber he dreamt into a sealed envelope and we allsigned across the top. We did get into Eliot, buthe was wrong by about 300 numbers."

Professor Mitchell says he has heard offirst-year holding goodluck slumber parties withtheir blocking groups after rooming assignmentsarrive and then opening the fateful envelopetogether the next morning. How could a mere mortalwait an entire night before opening the envelopewhich contains her fate for the next three years?

Every year, a Comp Sci major or two tries tobreak into the system and fashion him or herselfcomputer God-for-a-day. "It'd be so cool to knowthat you single-handedly fucked over everyone inthe freshman class," says one anonymous,vindictive first-year. However, as far as FMknows, no one has actually managed to changeanyone's housing assignment in this manner. (Ifanyone has, could you please tell us?)

University Mythology

All colleges have myths, including some thathave spread across the country. For example,everyone "knows" that you are allowed to leave aclass if the professor is more than fifteenminutes late. According to Levy," some college inConnecticut has the 15-minutes late rule, but noone else does. "Despite the lack of an officialsanction, "every school has that legend."

Many college superstitions involve campusarchitecture. At the University of Maryland,students rub the nose of one statue for luck onexams. This month's edition of RollingStone magazine documents campus myths aboutstudent virginity and statue animation. Accordingto University of Michigan lore, a particularstatue on campus will stand up if a virgin passesit.

Harvard has its own mythology. Before you knewwhere Sever was, or how to use e-mail, you knewabout the Big Three.

In a school packed with tradition, these arethe Traditions with a capital T.

Number one: Flip a butter pat onto the ceilingof the Union. Attention, all interested parties:this is the last year it's possible. Next year,the dining hall will be in Mem hall, andhumanities profs will be left to enjoy the spaceunder the well-buttered vault.

The recommended technique is to launch thebutter with a belt or cloth napkin. On specialdinner days, helium balloons work as well. "I sawsome guys do it," say one enthusiastic first-year."They weighted the balloon, and put butter on thetop."

Other techniques are more reminiscent of MITthan Harvard. For instance, Gregg Phillips '98employed a "five-man butter-launcher" described byhis awed roommate as" eight rubber bands connectedto a central cup."

Number two: Have sex in the stacks of Widener.Studying isn't the only thing rustling the booksdown there. Not surprisingly, no one at Widenerwas available for comment.

Number three: Piss on the statue of JohnHarvard. "As appealing as the thought of baringall for the sake of tradition is to me, I think Ican make it through the next four years withoutit," says Duerte. As a woman, she is skepticalabout the feasibility of this feat. "I mean,unless you're going to be really creative...shemuses.

Men living in the Yard, though boast of havingcompleted this part of the three-step traditionseveral times. "I've pissed on the base [of thestatue]. That's easy. It'd be harder to get it onthe knees or the face," says one first-year withtoo much leisure time.

Some students suggest that streaking duringPrimal Scream should be added to the list ofrequired acts.

Harvard Yard, the oldest part of the campus,has a series of ghost stories connected with it.Jay W. Glaubach '97 documented one story aboutHolden Chapel for a Folk and Myth project.According to Glaubach, Holden Chapel used to bethe dissecting room for the medical school. Onsome dark nights, the chapel is haunted by thefiancee of a man whose body was snatched from hisgrave to be dissected by Harvard Med Schoolstudents.

Although these stories may not be true, somehave a historical basis. Professor Mitchell notesa connection between a current Holworthy ghostlegend and a student prank that occurred in the1820s.

No one really needs a historical basis fortradition and superstition, though. The wholepoint is, some things are more real for beingbased on nothing at all. Rudenstine may neverconsult Mystic Rosa. Gore's plans for 2000 don'thinge upon the stars. But I'm keeping my fingerscrossed for Housing Day. Nancy Reagan is notalone.

In superstition, though, chief is far

St. Patrick's day may be gone, but shamrocksuperstition is a year-round phenomenon.

J.J. O'Brien and Sons, Inc., a localconstruction company, decorates its pick-up truckswith a clover painted on each side. "J.J. O'Brienwon't let a truck leave his yard until it has ashamrock painted on its side," comments oneworker.

Before the potato came to Ireland, the Irishate clover salad to supplement their traditionaldiet of meat, butter, milk and oatmeal, withvitamin C. In the 17th century the conqueringEnglish, not yet aware that everyone should eatfive serving of fruit and veggies a day, scornedwhat they saw as this uncultured Irish cuisine.the Irish promptly decided to adopt the clover asa symbol of ethnic pride.

One of the first incidents of immigrant racialtension in the U.S. was cleared up by GeorgeWashington at Valley Forge, in 1778. Washingtonannounced that he would issue extra Saint Paddy'sDay whiskey rations to all the soldiers, not justthe newly hyphenated Irish-American.