The Second Campus

As freshmen find out their house assignments tomorrow the new residents of Eliot, Adams, and others, will no doubt rejoice with their newfound house communities. Yet for some, this joy will be tempered. These are the few, the unfortunate, the “Quadded”—students forced to spend the remainder of their college careers in that other campus down Garden Street.

The question arises: why is the Quad so stigmatized at Harvard? Is it simply the far-off location, or does the Quad reveal something about the deep insecurities of Harvard house life in general? It is time, my fellow students, to develop a cohesive Theory of the Quad.

We should, of course, start with existentialist theorist Simone de Beauvoir’s classification of women as “the Other” in male-dominated society. While Beauvoir was of course not the first theorist to talk about self and Other, she did claim that men project their own insecurities on woman, devaluing them in order to privilege the male gender.

In short, our concept of self—and our confidence in that identity—is partly defined by the “Other”—that which we are not.

So how does this relate to Harvard? Well, clearly, the Quad represents the Other in our midst. When one is Quadded they are declared to be different from the norm that is the river—one never hears of being “riverred.” By making the Quad into the Other, river house residents project their own insecurities about house life onto it. For example: “My house is made up of rat-infested walk-through doubles and has no sense of community, but at least it’s not in the Quad.”

But the Quad as Other is not restricted to devaluation. River house residents also elevate the Quad into an unrealizable ideal, and mythologize it: “The Quad has such great community and such great housing. Can you believe some rooms in the Quad even have kitchens?” Moreover, a sense of mystery develops around this rumored Harvard haven: “I hear Pfoho‘s 90’s Dance is incredible… but where is the Quad again?”

Through this idealization, however, the Quad remain as Other—it can never truly develop its own independent sense of individuality. Thus river houses can be known for their unique traditions and quirky characteristics, while the Quad can only be know for its “great rooms and great community.”

It is important to add, that while geography may have played a role in the establishment of the Quad as Other, our common cultural perception has furthered and cemented this image. A location is not born, but rather becomes a Quad.

It is time for students to address the insecurities about house life that we project onto the Quad. We need to address the problems with house community that have lead the Quad to become the Other, and realize that although the Quad may be far away, it’s really not that different from the rest of campus.

Wherever freshmen end up tomorrow, they still have an exciting three years ahead of them. The Quad is really not so bad—the rooms are spacious and modern, the house-life is great, and the shuttle service perfectly convenient. Yet by drawing this type of self-Other distinction so often within our campus, we simply make people needlessly disappointed with their own lot.

And even if that doesn’t work for you, it may still be time to pick a new “Other” to look down upon: I nominate Yale.





Jacob M. Victor ‘09, a Crimson editorial editor, is a social studies concentrator in Leverett House.