Honesty is Painful

Before this semester, I had never written an opinion piece. Hell, before this semester I had never taken the time to write—I actively distanced myself from it. If you had told me I would end up writing for The Crimson when I was a senior in high school, I would have called you crazy. But, here I am, and I am not just writing for the Crimson, but as of last week, I am also an editor at the esteemed institution.

I really had no idea what to expect when I began this process. I had just finished my football career, limping away with what was left of my health, needing a new crutch to hold myself up. When a friend of mine sent out an email about writing a column for The Crimson, I was intrigued. I was stuck on the self-deluding belief that college is where “you find yourself!” I applied, and by the grace of some higher power, I was accepted as a columnist. I came in believing I’d be able to write about anything, but after a semester, my wide eyes have narrowed.

As always, I sat down to write something thought provoking for this last column. Originally, I wanted to write about final clubs, because they’re always a good jumping off point for a general discussion. But most opinions on the subject have been published at this point.

Then, I thought I should talk about the reverberations from the sanctions. There has been minimal discussion about it, and I think I have something unique to say on the subject.

When I saw the outpouring of responses to the sanctions—predominately from sororities and female final clubs, complaining about how unfair they were—I was incredibly confused. Personally, I believe that these sanctions would have an effect antithetical to improving the social scene on campus, instead making club non-club distinction all the more divisive. If you want my solution, read here. But while I think there are many plausible arguments for sanctioning only men’s clubs, the rationale these women are using to justify why they should not receive sanctions doesn’t make sense to me.

The columnist in me is itching to comment on all of this. But while I feel myself slipping into a rant on the absurdity of the situation, the cynical part of me is saying that I shouldn’t devote a column to it. If I were to talk about how #HearHerHarvard is without direction and relies on a faulty argument, regardless of how blandly I spoke on the subject, I’d be unfairly labeled a misogynist, and that’s a repercussion I wish to avoid.

This is the most important lesson I’ve learned about myself as a writer: I don’t like to push the hot button.

It’s hard for me to say what I really feel when that falls outside the social confines of acceptability. And I think most other people too, just like me, hesitate to engage with the truth, because the truth is too dangerous. So as I scroll through my newsfeed on Facebook, I see smarter kids than myself selling out for the New York Times and posts attempting to rationalize irrationality. Hell, the only outrageous posts I see are people selling their souls for click bait. The only room for genuinely valuable opinion pieces comes in topics that people aren’t scared of, like politics or friendship.

While I’ve become a part of a community of refined thinkers who want to push dialogue towards growth and strive for truth, I think we often only strive for truth if it doesn’t compromise our own interests. Over and over, I see people mold their views to fit the social modicum of acceptability. Because Harvard kids have so much to lose, they don’t put themselves in situations to lose it. Writing is all well and good, and it’s important to sound smart in dialogue as it reflects well on your intellect, but if it hurts your pre-career options it must be curtailed and curated. Many people here feel a certain obligation to the people who supported them in the process to tangibly succeed. For many, that means landing a good job upon graduation, and the security associated with it.

But hell, who am I to judge, I wimped out of an article that accurately discussed the argumentative lapse by the #HearHerHarvard agenda so far. But I don’t want to just let the rogue SatireV do the real opinion pieces behind the impunity of satire.

So while I agree with the #HearHerHarvard cause, I cannot support their reasoning. The #HearHerHarvard posts all seem to say something along the lines of “This place has made me feel that Harvard is a home, given me a community, and made me feel accepted.” Well ma’am, the basis of your acceptance is a process built on exclusion, so your argument is nonsensical in light of the fact that the intention of the sanctions is to remove exclusivity. The chanting at the rally that was held the other day was about sexual assault being wrong, but everyone agrees with that, and it was not the basis for these sanctions anyway.

When I started this article I wanted to avoid talking about the #HearHerHarvard cause, because I feared the repercussions. As I read over my writing, I see that it ended up being the main feature of this piece. I guess I was wrong in my lesson. I don’t shy away from the hot button. And maybe college is where you “find yourself” after all. Hell, I have two years and hopefully plenty more after that to see whether that’s true.

Jamie C. Stewart ’18 is a philosophy concentrator in Dunster House. His column appears on alternate Tuesdays.