Life Outside Harvard

Having chosen to study abroad my junior spring, I haven’t been on Harvard’s campus in eight months. I am pleased to report that I really did miss it—the hustle and bustle of the square, late-night runs to Tasty Burger, reading a book by the river, even taking an English class with one of my favorite professors. As happy as I am to return, however, choosing to study abroad for a semester was one of the best decisions I have made in a long while.

As I prepared for my impending semester in Spain, I was filled with doubts about leaving Harvard’s campus. Knowing how much Harvard has to offer its students, I was worried that being away from campus would rob me of certain resources or decelerate my academic momentum. I wondered if I had been naive not to follow in the footsteps of those who passed on a semester abroad for fear of “missing out.” By my junior fall, I had guzzled the Harvard Kool-Aid, and I wasn’t ready to trade it in for anything—even world-famous Spanish sangria.

Looking back, however, I am beyond grateful that I made the trade. When I toured Harvard for the first time as a senior in high school, I was told on multiple occasions that Harvard was a microcosm of the real world. And in many ways, it is. Harvard strives to create a community of diverse individuals from all walks of life who possess a vast array of interests and talents. But this community is also self-selecting, and the people who surround me at Harvard tend to share certain commonalities that are sure to be scarce once I take my final steps through Johnston Gate this May.

Confining oneself to Harvard’s campus alone, therefore, can often lead to tunnel vision. It prompts students to make untrue assumptions about life outside the Harvard community. Eight months ago, I was guilty of viewing Harvard as a standard for intellect and a haven for the world’s best and brightest. It only took one trip to a run-down hostel in London, where I met a man who knew more about current affairs than many of the Harvard students I’ve encountered, for me to realize that intellect comes in many forms.

I was also quick to assume eight months ago that—because I had trotted the globe with family and student groups—I knew what the world was like. What I have come to realize since studying abroad, however, is that people are a reflection of their environments, and the best way to get to know a place is to get to know its people. No matter how many times I visited the Plaza de España in Seville (arguably the city’s most famous site), I came to truly understand the city by sipping tinto de verano in the afternoons with local Spanish students. And the fact remains that this essential aspect of “getting to know” Seville would have been impossible had I stayed on Harvard’s campus, or even visited the city in a different context.

So, while I have learned and continue to learn many valuable insights during my time in college, these insights only occasionally pertain to the world outside of Harvard. Harvard is a microcosm of the real world in the same way that McDonald’s is a microcosm of the food industry—there are some accurate comparisons, but the two are by no means interchangeable.

This is not to say that students need to study abroad in order to expand their horizons. There are plenty of ways to broaden one’s worldview beyond the streets of Cambridge. For those who decide to stay here, I encourage you to talk to people on the streets or the local barista at your favorite coffee shop. What he or she has to say is just as valuable as what the student sitting next to you in section can share. What’s more, although the opportunities at Harvard seem somewhat limitless, students don’t have to settle for seizing these opportunities alone. Instead of writing a thesis, I have opted to write a book on my own time, and I could not be more content with my decision.

Of course, I still drink the Harvard Kool-Aid, and I’m proud to do so. But while I’m sipping, I remember to keep in mind that life outside of Harvard exists, and it’s richer and more diverse than any one community.

Aria N. Bendix ’15, a Crimson editorial writer, is an English concentrator in Quincy House.