​I’m Not From Here

I’m not from here. I grew up in the South. I went to a 1,500 person public high school just outside of Pensacola, Fla. For reference, Pensacola is about 10 minutes from the Florida-Alabama border, and nearly everyone has the “Florida Panhandle” accent. Needless to say, Cambridge is different.

Living in the middle of the Bible Belt, I was one of the few non-Christian kids at my school, and I was by far the most liberal. To put that in context, there was a 10,000 person Donald Trump rally in my hometown, while the Bernie Sanders rally wouldn't have filled Sanders Theater. So from the time politics became of relative importance to my peers, I was a pariah. In some class each day, what would start as a calm conversation between another kid and me about politics or religion would end with ten other kids in the class belittling me for my opinions.

It didn’t really help matters that I would seek out these confrontations, and it didn’t help that I was on the football team, possibly the most conservative group on campus. Regardless, when I was accepted by Harvard, I was more than happy to leave behind my conservative roots and start fresh among people who ostensibly shared my ideals.

I was warned about the change in climate. And I was told that the people in the North are a little colder, too—the whole “Southern hospitality” thing.

But I didn’t care about those warnings, because I was finally going to be around like-minded people.

After I moved into my dorm and settled in, I was taken aback: At Harvard, I learned, people are very outspoken and very easily offended. But while this definitely surprised me, I wasn't bothered by it, because students were expressing opinions with which I at least marginally agreed. Even when my personal opinions were more complicated—like with the controversy at Yale last Halloween—as a white male, I didn't want to speak out of turn. I held the same philosophy towards conversations about final clubs.

So for a while, I carried along in ambivalent naivety. People here were Democrats and that was enough. But after months of this, it hit me: Harvard is just as politically polarized as the Deep South. Obviously, in the opposite direction, but polarized nonetheless.

What's different is that no one here seems to understand just how polarized they are. Sure, Harvard students are remarkably more knowledgeable about political issues than my friends from back home. And there are definitely exceptions to the rule. But for some reason, the inclusivity that everyone preaches only applies to those who hold a certain political ideology. Someone like myself—a Democrat and a liberal—becomes the subject of ridicule or exclusion when they don’t staunchly support the most left-wing views. Even my teammates, some of the people on campus to whom I feel closest, frequently make fun of my “conservative” or “politically incorrect” beliefs, because I am not as far left as they are.

I come from a place where I was excluded for my political beliefs. I was never taken seriously. I was told by my grandparents, close friends, teachers, and role models that my beliefs were invalid. I ventured nearly 2,000 miles away from my hometown to escape the exclusion and intolerance of different-minded people. Yet, even amongst some of the most intelligent people in the world, this attitude persisted behind the mask of acceptance.

Gant Player ‘19, a psychology concentrator, lives in Eliot House.