The Harvard Crimson—My First Year 2009

M Y F I R S T Y E A R

The Harvard Crimson

THE UNIVERSITY DAILY SINCE 1873 PROGNOSTICATION

Calendar Of Your Year Ahead

Comp The Harvard Crimson!

14 Plympton Street, next to Adams House

Open Houses on Monday, September 7, Wednesday, September 9 and Thursday, September 10 at 7 PM

The Best Cheap Eats in the Square

OUR STATELY LEADER

Classes, crew, and failed romances—the life of an average freshman

By LAUREN D. KIEL

Our five-pronged plan will have you putting on the pounds in no time

CRIMSON STAFF WRITER

Congratulations. You’re one of the seven percent of applicants to make it in, and one of the three-in-four to take fair Harvard up on its offer of admission.

Maybe you’ve been reading The Crimson since December just so you can stay completely up-to-date with the weekly antics of the Undergraduate Council. Maybe you’ve been stocking up on argyle sweaters, or maybe you’ve already bought a 20-pound snow jacket for the long, dark months ahead.

But no matter how much preparation you’ve done or how well you think you know the Harvard scene, you won’t really know whether you can party like a state schooler and study like the MIT students do with any of your 573 friends on Facebook, until you get here.

For now, we present some things that will happen to you, some things that may happen to you, and some things that definitely won’t happen to you—but will happen to that kid who wears shorts when it’s cold out.

By MAXWELL L. CHILD CRIMSON STAFF WRITER

Harvard Square is brimming with food options, particularly in comparison to most college towns. But you’ll find that unless it’s someone’s birthday or you’re going on a date, many of the restaurants will be out of your price range. Luckily, the affordable food scene is vibrant and nuanced. From speedy lunch fare to latenight grease binges, the Square has you covered.

So, what are your choices? We’ve constructed a pyramid to serve as your guide to the key food groups of the Square— burritos, pizza, burgers, ice cream, and The Kong. The pyramid is not designed to tell you what you should eat (it’s all basically unhealthy), but more of a breakdown of what you will eat.

If you’re worried about the Freshman 15, don’t despair—you don’t have to eat at any of these places. But you’ll probably get bored of the dining hall every once in a while, and the pyramid will get you up to speed quickly.

SEPTEMBER: CAMP HARVARD Welcome to campus, Class of 2013!

You have the mixed blessing of being the first class to enter Harvard College under the revised calendar. While this means you’ll never have your eggnog spoiled with worries about your Gov 20 final, you will be missing out when it comes to one of the most memorable parts of freshman year—Camp Harvard. While previous classes have had a week and a half to enjoy the thrill of being a college student before the stress of classes starts, you have just six short days.

With this in mind, jump right into the excitement of being at college and away from your parents. Fill your first days with dozens of info sessions, speeches by campus big wigs, and screenings of Love Story. Remember the four freshman conversation points (name, hometown, dorm, possible concentration) and you’ll increase your Facebook friend count exponentially before the end of your first week.

Your social life this week will predominately take place as part of The Freshman Roving Horde. At night you will call every person you’ve met during your short time at Harvard and wander around in groups of 20 or 30 searching for a party. On the tip of available alcohol, you will flock to one of the houses, where you may find four very frightened upperclassmen sitting around a case of beer. Awkwardness will ensue.

Predictions: When you find an actual room party, in all its sketchy, sweaty glory, someone in your group will get violently ill. You will discover Felipe’s and the Kong. And UHS. You’ll sign up for Ballroom Dancing and comp Womenin-Business and The Crimson. Nearly everyone you know will join the crew team.

You probably will too.

OCTOBER: TIME FOR CLASS After the excitement of Camp Harvard and shopping period, it’s time to hit the books.

At Harvard, freshmen have the reputation of doing so extensively. You will do

See YEAR AHEAD Page 16

CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS

THURSDAY, AUGUST 27, 2009

THE FOUNDATION—BURRITOS

ALAN C. CHIU—CRIMSON PHOTOGRAPHER

Some tourists think the John Harvard statue is all fun and games—the “three lies” and all that. As you can see in this picture, the J-man clearly doesn’t mess around.

A Guide to ‘Top-Down’ Dating Moving from hook-ups to relationships, rather than the reverse

By CHARLES J. WELLS CRIMSON STAFF WRITER

As a Harvard student, there’s a 69 percent chance you were your high school’s valedictorian. But there’s also a 90 percent chance you’re still a virgin.

Considering such statistics, along with the fact that your longest high school relationship probably lasted from sixth period to the end of soccer practice, you’re going to need to learn a whole new handbook if you’re planning on getting anything besides good grades at Harvard.

But fear not. Whatever you’re looking to get out of relationships at Harvard, The Crimson’s got your prude back(side) covered.

THE SCENE In order to turn Reading Period into breeding period, you’re going to need to know how people date and form relationships in the school

that famed Ec 10 professor Gregory Mankiw calls the nation’s most elite dating service.

So here’s the skinny: at Harvard, you’re either single or you’re married.

Very few people fall into the nebulous space between.

That’s not to say that nobody’s getting anybody. Quite the contrary.

Walk around Cambridge on a Friday night and you’ll bear witness to the raw, carnal savagery of America’s future presidents and CEOs. Toes curl inside leather loafers. Expensive accessories disappear beneath Harvard’s extra-long twin beds. And pastel polo t-shirts lose their former crispness as young scholars embrace. If only these neo-Georgian dorm-room walls could talk!

HOOK ME UP So what are these people doing?

They’re “hooking up.” Live, learn, and love (or at least make love with) these two words, because they play an enormous role in Harvard love life.

Consumed with extracurriculars, casting off commitment, or just posing as Crimson Casa Novas, single Harvard students love hooking up.

Hook ups—spur of the moment sexual or semi-sexual encounters with other Harvard students you only sortof know—can be simple, fun, and time-effective. You go out with your friends, spot a semi-attractive potential mate you recognize from section, and three Solo cups later you’re asking each other “your place or mine?”

Proper hook-ups fall between the hours of 3 a.m. and 11 a.m. on Saturdays and Sundays. Excepting the extraordinary, after these hours you’ll probably pick up your belongings off the floor, dust yourself off, and head along on your merry way.

PITUITARY PYRAMIDS But if you’ve decided you’re not one for the wanton, semi-random hook up, you’re going to have to turn to the world of the ancient Egyptians in order to understand the other side of Harvard love life: the dating scene.

If a relationship is a pyramid, then in high school, you most likely built your pyramids from the bottom up. Before college, if you were suave enough to have a stable significant

See DATING Page 7

The number of burrito options in the Square has spiraled out of control in the last few years—two new national commercial outfits have entered what was already a crowded market. Sometimes you’ll feel like it’s hard to find cheap food that isn’t a burrito, so knowing your tortilla-wrapped meat and/or vegetables is essential for a prospective Square eater.

Qdoba and Chipotle are those big chains that you’ve probably heard of or sampled at some point. They’re not bad for a solid, calorific meal, and are practically mirror images in terms of store layout and ingredients (chicken, steak, rice, beans, salsa, etc.). Devotees will argue that Chipotle’s burritos taste significantly better, while others say there is little difference between the two. We come down somewhere in the middle—Chipotle’s meat seems to have a marinade that makes it slightly more flavorful, but the difference is often not enough to keep us from the several-blocks-closer Qdoba outpost.

Felipe’s is the old-line, late-night, simple-and-tasty choice. The super burrito is a mouthwatering melange of basic ingredients prepared and rolled in under five seconds by a guy who will pay only passing attention to your requests to deviate from the basic recipe. Want black beans instead of pinto? Better say it loud, early, and often—and maybe in Spanish. Aside from the Ford assembly line-

esque service, Felipe’s provides a generally delicious (if perhaps unhealthy) burrito experience. Heck, maybe he does know what you want in your burrito better than you do.

Border Café is one of the most popular restaurants in the Square, and consequentially it’s adopted a hey-youcan-take-your-customer-service-andshove-it attitude. Oh, are only four of the five people in your party here? We can’t seat you until the fifth arrives. What’s that you say about it being lunchtime on a Wednesday in the summer, and the restaurant being less than a quarter full?

Next in line, please.

Aside from these quibbles, Border has an hour-long wait on most weekend nights for two key reasons: it has the twenty-something bar scene nailed down, and it serves the burro. The burro, while not technically a burrito, hits the spot like no other dish in the Square. It’s basically a burrito slathered in melted cheese and a little bit of enchilada sauce.

While some complain that they can “still feel the burro the next day” and “feel like they’re sweating burro for weeks,” nothing will address hunger pangs like a burro. Nothing.

Boloco provides the healthiest burritos, with more adventurous concoctions with ingredients like hummus, teriyaki sauce, and feta cheese. Some swear by Boloco, but they tend to be those that quiver at the thought of dropping a G at dinner. And by “dropping a G,” we mean consuming at least a thousand.

A thousand calories, that is.

Which you are guaranteed to have at any of these joints, besides Boloco.

SECOND LAYER—PIZZA Cheap pizza in the Square is an ongoing battle between the Sicilian-style king of the hill and a number of thin-crusted foes.

Pinocchio’s, more commonly known as Noch’s, is the Goliath of the pizza scene and has been serving up thick

See CHEAP FOOD Page 14

FOR MORE INFO See The Crimson’s Food Pyramid, p. 12

INSIDE THIS SECTION

Getting Around Boston Red line, Green line, 86, M2—

Harvardisms Gen Ed: 1. Supposedly a revo- Scorpion Bowl: 1. The rea-

Own Your Classes The Crimson gives you the

we help you out with

lutionary and improved imple-

son you wake up sprawled top-

inside scoop on massive intro

traversing the urban metrop-

mentation of what everyone

less on the Matthews steps with

classes, the horrors of Expos

olis that is your new home.

else calls distribution require-

“BONER CITY” sharpied on

20, what “Gen Ed” means to

PAGE 6 THIS ISSUE VOLUME CXXXVI, NO. 2013

MALAISE

ments. 2. Say hello to the new your back. 2. Always seems like boss, same as the old boss...

a good idea at the time.

PAGES 10-11

you, and how to get by on only 20 percent effort.

PAGES 2-3

THE HARVARD CRIMSON

PAGE 2

AUGUST 27, 2009

How To Game Your Classes

By THE CRIMSON SUPERBOARD

Okay, so maybe “game� isn’t quite the right word. A better title might be “How to Be Efficient in Your Classes.� In our time at this school, we at The Crimson have become experts at putting in 20 percent of the effort and achieving 80 percent of the results, and we can help you achieve this too. (80 percent with the Harvard curve is actually a pretty good grade, come to think of it.)

Maybe you’re thinking, “Hey, I was the hardest-working, smartest person at my high school. I’m a legend, man. Why would that change once I get to Harvard? Why would I need to know how to ‘game’ my classes?�

For some of you, this self-characterization might be accurate. Some of you will spend your college years with academics as your only priority. You will become a maestro in schmoozing teaching fellows and professors, you will know exactly what they want to hear in section, and you will argue for those crucial half-points after the midterm like you’re Tom Cruise in “A Few Good Men.�

But most of you—even if you don’t know it yet—are not going to be “that guy.� Maybe you’ll have an active social life. Maybe you’re an athlete and don’t yet realize how much time that’s going to consume. Maybe an a cappella group or a literary magazine or a certain oldest continuously-published college daily newspaper will take over your life.

We’re biased, but we think this is a good thing. College is a great place to learn how to live a little outside the classroom. And if you’re going to do so at all, you’re going to need to know at some point how to put in a little less time in class and still achieve desirable results. That’s where we come in.

There are some caveats before we get started. Some classes are un-gameable.

Classes with highly regular, mandatory problem sets or papers that are labor-intensive and graded carefully are going to be hard to get through

with only 20 percent effort. If the class’ name is whispered in hushed tones by those who have survived it, like “Stat 110� or “English 10a� or “Orgo,� there is probably no easy way out. You’ll just have to suck it up and put in 80 to 100 percent. Also, some classes shouldn’t be gamed—nearly all of our most rewarding academic experiences at Harvard came from classes in which we put in maximum effort.

So, take this guide with a grain of salt. It’s mainly geared towards uninspiring classes with a midterm, final, maybe a paper or two, and some miscellaneous section assignments or lightly graded problem sets (e.g. most Cores/ Gen Eds/whatever they call them now).

So, without further ado, The Crimson’s guide to gaming your classes:

1. Study for the midterm and final; work hard on your big papers It may seem odd that we’re leading with advice on what you do need to work on, but the 20 percent of necessary work is more important than the 80 percent of chaff. So, let’s lay some ground rules. The midterm and the final will probably be worth something like 80 percent of your grade. You need to study for them. A lot. You should not underestimate how much they matter.

Big papers (in humanities classes) are similar—and, by the way, you can probably get an extension on these if you try. Anything that’s worth over 25 percent of your grade should be taken very seriously. If you make sure not to mess around with the big stuff, the rest can be done more haphazardly. Slacking on the important, high-value assignments is not efficiency, but stupidity.

2. Reading is optional 90 percent of the time A general rule of thumb is that unless you need to use the book for problem sets or papers, you will never need to look at it.

Section reading is a borderline case.

You might participate better if you’ve done it, but you could spend a bunch of time on this and then find that it never comes up. The latter scenario is slightly more common. That said, it’s generally not a bad idea to figure out what the reading’s about (via the Internet) if you’re going to need to discuss it.

This rule is especially true in higher level courses or cores where you’re assigned whole batches of academic papers or books to read each week. You almost certainly do not need to slog through it all. Narrow your focus to that which is necessary for the final/ midterm/paper sweet spot, and you’ll do fine.

A salient example of this piece of advice: when superstar economics professor David I. Laibson ‘88 told the students of “Psychology and Economics� how he treated reading when he was a Harvard undergrad. “When I was in college, I never did the reading,� he said. “But please, please do the reading.�

Okay, Professor Laibson. Now that we know that the highly academically successful, tenured, and nationallyrenowned leader of our course never did the reading in college, we’ll be sure to take that advice seriously. Isn’t this supposed to be a class about effective means of persuasion?

3. Going to class—also frequently optional This piece of advice may come across as more, ahem, radical for you, young freshman. But the truth of the matter is that in lecture classes with slides and/ or videos online, your world-famous professor probably isn’t adding that much to the learning experience. True, they probably wrote the book, but these guys got hired because they are great researchers, not necessarily teachers.

We don’t mean to say that you should be skipping sections that are graded on participation or lectures where you’ll have to take notes. But you will find that many of your classes don’t

fall into either of these categories. And in a 9 a.m. class that you’re probably going to doze off a bit in anyway...who’s to say that you wouldn’t be better off getting a few extra hours of shut-eye in your own bed? Not us.

4. Shop for TFs like it’s Wal-Mart You should definitely shop classes heavily, but once you’ve decided which you like, it’s arguably more important to shop TFs, as they will wholly decide what grade you’ll get in almost any large lecture course with a section. If you waltz into your assigned section after the first small response paper and your TF sighs loudly and says, “the assignments were...uhhh...okay,� get out.

Develop some “conflict� and switch until you find a more amenable section leader. You will not regret this.

As an aside, don’t sweat anything that’s due in section and graded on a check/plus/minus scale. It’s probably not worth that much, and the TF is likely giving most people similar grades.

You can start these pretty late the night before and be fine.

5. If they say, “Experience in ________ is not required for this course,� RUN Anything can be used to fill in the blank—Spanish language, calculus, organic chemistry, etc. You should not take the class if you do not have experience in this area. Even if the professor is saying it truthfully, trust us, plenty of your classmates will have that expertise and will use it to their advantage. It’s a no-win scenario.

So if you plop down in your seat on the first day of “First Nights� and the professor says, “Don’t worry, formal musical training is not a prerequisite for this course,� you know what to do. Go shop something that is in your wheelhouse, or risk getting academically mauled by the concert pianists sitting to your left and right. —The Crimson Superboard is unreachable.

TERRELL WOODS—CRIMSON PHOTOGRAPHER

Surviving the Expos 20 Roller Coaster Ride

By ELYSSA A. L. SPITZER CRIMSON STAFF WRITER

Expos 20 endows itself with hints of grandeur: “The Harvard College Writing Program is the oldest in the United States,� the Web site proclaims, beside a photo of the Expos office, an aging townhouse painted an unappealing yellow cream color. “Since 1872, when the program was founded, a course in expository writing has been the one academic experience required of every Harvard student.� Dramatically, the blurb concludes, “We welcome you to ‘Expos,’ a Harvard tradition.�

Don’t be fooled by the excitement of tradition—Expos 20 is not all it’s cracked up to be.

But given that the course is required of all freshman—even those who grow up to be the likes of Robert Frost (yep, he took Expos)—here are some trusty tips from The Crimson to make the experience more positive than it otherwise could be. s %XPOS COURSES CAN LOOK PRETTY EXCITing: Creating Monsters, Cities and Globalization, Travel and the Gods...

But don’t be fooled. The point of Expos is to teach you to write an academic essay—not to teach you about the course’s subject matter. Suppose your

Expos class is nominally about Kan- seems to get his last choice. So make garoos and the experience of growing your picks wisely, all the way to the end up in a pouch. You will not actually of the list, or you may end up being the be taking a class about the kangaroos only guy in The Politics of Domesticity themselves. You will be enrolling in a in Victorian England. class teaching you how to write an es- s 4AKE THE TIME TO THINK ABOUT HOW THE courses you pick say about kangawill fit into your roos. And I think Your we can all agree “Expos teaches many odd schedule. schedule probthat a class about won’t be fiwriting an essay formulations that you will ably nalized when you about kangaroos for Expos is significantly never again encounter in section (you section in less exciting than middle of a class about the real life. Rather than resist the shopping week), marsupials themso timing things selves. the Expos vernacular, may still be up s "EWARE OF %XPOS the air. But do classes with a lot learn it and use it in your in your best to secof reading. Don’t tion for Expos take on more Expos essays.� classes that can work than necesactually fit into a sary by signing up for a course with lots of reading. From realistic schedule. If you don’t, you’ll personal experience, we recommend have to pick from the spots remaining Expos classes about art—paintings can after everyone else has already been asbe far easier to digest and formulate signed a class, and the leftovers generopinions about than tomes, even if you ally aren’t the prime courses. s $ON T WORRY IF YOU GET PUT IN %XPOS are not artistically inclined. s 4HINK CAREFULLY WHEN SELECTING YOUR in the Spring. You can write a college Expos choices. The Expos Office tries paper without having had the course to assign you your top picks, or so and still do quite well—evidence that it says—somehow, everyone always Expos is somewhat useless. If you feel

insecure writing without having taken Expos, you can go to the Writing Center to talk through your paper. It really helps, and unlike a tutor in high school, the Writing Center is not at all frowned upon. s -EET WITH YOUR PRECEPTOR OFTEN %Xpos is all about the revisions, so the more your paper changes in the process of editing the better. s %XPOS TEACHES MANY ODD FORMULAtions that you will never again encounter in real life. Rather than resist the Expos vernacular, learn it and use it in your Expos essays. And then after the class, use what you like and disregard the rest. s %XPOS IS NOTORIOUSLY DIFlCULTˆ though it is possible to do well—so don’t be upset if your preceptor enjoys the power trip of giving out some ugly letters.

Expos 20 is a necessary evil of freshman year, but it’s also a course that may impart some benefit if you are lucky—so embrace it. Make friends in Annenberg while whining over the reading, bond with your classmates during peer editing, and maybe even learn how to write a tiny bit better as a result. —Staff writer Elyssa A. L. Spitzer can be reached at spitzer@fas.harvard.edu.

STAFF FOR THIS ISSUE NEWS EDITORS: Maxwell L. Child ’10, Sarah B. Joselow ’10, Peter F. Zhu ’11

EDITORIAL EDITORS: Molly M. Strauss ’11, James M. Wilsterman ’10

NIGHT EDITORS: Maxwell L. Child ’10, Jamison A. Hill ’10, Molly M. Strauss ’11, James M. Wilsterman ’10, Peter F. Zhu ’11

PHOTO EDITOR: Alan C. Chiu ’10

DESIGN EDITOR: Sarah B. Joselow ’10

SPORTS EDITOR: Max N. Brondfield ’10 BUSINESS EDITORS: Mark Khanin ’12, Steven J. Stelmach ’10, Amy Sun ’12

SANTOSH P. BHASKARABHATLA—CRIMSON PHOTOGRAPHER

The Expos house, which will be the site of some of your most painful freshman-year experiences.

How To Deal with Big Intro Classes With freshman year come classes in a nearly-full Sanders Theatre

semblance of motivation throughout the semester. Exercise some self-control, and you’ll be fine.

Physical Sciences 1 (PS1) is an introductory chemistry and physics course designed for life science concentrators.

By MONICA S. LIU The instructors have written a textbook CRIMSON STAFF WRITER that is available in PDF on the course Your local Harvard marketeer has website and will spare you the bank bust probably touted the College’s thousands at the Coop. And the professors’ enviof course listings as a perk of being a ronmental friendliness doesn’t end with member of the Class of 2013. While the electronic course materials—make sure academic options at Harvard are indeed to note the statistics on global warming expansive, many of you will find your and energy consumption mentioned in schedules restricted by the few introduc- class, because they will show up on extory courses that serve as entries on your ams. Your TFs (one for section and one dismal pre-med checklist or pre-requi- for lab) are your best resources for pracsites for that tantalizing econometrics tical help, as are the peer tutors assigned to every section. seminar you’d like to eventually take.

Math 1b fulfills the math requireFreshmen often find intro classes— which each enroll hundreds of students ment for a host of science concentraa semester—to be impersonal, challeng- tions. While the course material is teching, and even outright annoying. Here nically comparable to the AP Calculus BC syllabus, the conceptual focus and are a few tips to minimize your pain: If you’ve placed yourself or have been trick problems make this class a chalforcibly placed on the pre-med track or lenge even for those who passed the AB/ are otherwise considering a concentra- BC sequence with flying colors. Students tion in the life sciences, say hello to Life who got a 5 on the BC exam and are Sciences 1a. LS1a covers the basic prin- prospective life sciences concentrators ciples of molecular biology and chemis- should consider taking Math 19a, a life try that you will need for most upper- sciences-oriented course on differential level courses. If you never took AP Bio equations that features advanced mateor Chem, save yourself the struggle and rial but is relatively painless. Math 1b is take Life and Physical Sciences 1a, a taught entirely in section, and the qualcourse geared for students with limited ity of your learning experience is largely background. You’ll get caught up in no dependent upon the teaching fellow you are assigned. Work time and won’t problem sets in be much less pre“Work through problem on groups, especially pared for subsearen’t getting quent courses. sets in Life Science 1a with iftheyouhelp you need The LS1a proin section. Forfessors approach classmates (trust us, you mer students claim the course matethat almost every rial from a deeply are NOT too smart for exam question has conceptual standso propoint, so memorizstudy groups) and make aceedcatch, with extreme ing your amino acmathematical cauids is essential but use of the help sessions tion. If you make it not nearly enough through a question to stay afloat when hosted by former LS1a without noticing exams roll around. something difficult Lecture slides and students.� or tricky, chances the professors’ acare you need to companying commentary capture the crux of the material, look back to find your mistake.

Social Analysis 10 (Ec 10), which while the suggested textbooks are useful only for reference. Work through prob- fulfills a General Education requirement lem sets with classmates (trust us, you and is a starting point for many prospecare NOT too smart for study groups) tive economics concentrators, is one of and make use of the help sessions hosted the largest lecture courses on campus— by former LS1a students. Ask your TF 800-plus students. The course is taught (teaching fellow) for help, and don’t be entirely in section, with the exception afraid to approach the professors on of occasional lectures by the course conceptual questions that your TF can’t head and guest professors. The qualexplain. Lecture videos are available on- ity of teaching fellows varies drastically line but are of questionable audio-visual from one section to the next. Attendance quality, so it’s best to drag yourself to at section and lecture is crucial: no instruction is videotaped, and a significant class the first time around.

Life Sciences 1b is an introductory portion of the course material cannot be genetics course that is arguably the most found in the textbook. Take advantage of dreaded, painful course in the life sci- the unit tests, which enable you to work ences cluster and makes students appre- on practice problems, get individualized ciate LS1a in retrospect. If you’re a pro- help from undergraduate graders, and spective English concentrator who is just earn some extra credit. Learn to craft “interested in genetics,� stifle your curi- clear, concise answers to your problem osity and steer clear. Course instructors sets, which will allow you to perform are knowledgeable but considerably less well under heavy time pressure during inspiring than the LS1a professors, and exams. Consider attending review sesthere is abundant busy work that counts sions offered by another TF during exam for zero credit. Course veterans claim period if yours doesn’t offer satisfactory that the textbook is confusing, verbose, preparation.

Psychology 1 and Science B-62, and chock full of extraneous information, so your lecture notes will again be which both meet the introductory reinvaluable. Since problem sets are not quirement for prospective psychology graded, you’ll need to set your own study concentrators, will be merged and restructured into a new course, Science schedule and gauge your own progress.

Go to lecture—you literally get ex- of Living Systems 20. While the course tra credit for showing up and answer- format may change slightly, veterans of ing questions with an electronic clicker. both Psych 1 and B-62 agree that the Exam questions closely parallel the fascinating subject matter and engaging practice problems, and you are allowed professors make these courses painless a cheat sheet on all exams. The gravest and enjoyable. challenge in this course is not learning —Staff writer Monica S. Liu can be the material but rather sustaining any reached at msliu@fas.harvard.edu.

THE HARVARD CRIMSON

AUGUST 27, 2009

PAGE 3

Getting Through the Stress of Choosing Your Concentration

By CHELSEA L. SHOVER and SHAN WANG CRIMSON STAFF WRITERS

Even though you won’t be declaring your concentration (or what every other normal college in the nation calls a “major”) until your sophomore fall, many of you are undoubtedly already uneasy about your nebulous academic futures. Sure, a bunch of you, fast-tracking your way to medical school, might be resolute in concentrating in some kind of biology. Some of you might guiltily enter Harvard’s gates feeling obligated to honor the impossible applied math-physics-philosophy triple major you put on your college application. But many of you probably have no clue. (For those of you who think you do—you’re probably wrong.)

Think of it this way: not so long ago, freshman spring was the deadline for choosing concentrations, and somewhat longer ago, freshmen had no choice whatsoever in area of discipline. (History and Literature, the oldest concentration, was also once the only concentration.) It wasn’t until the early 1900s that then-Harvard President Abbott Lawrence Lowell began pushing for more concentrations, musing that a “well-educated man must know a little bit of everything and one thing well.”

Thus came the Core Curriculum (now General Education for all you froshies), along with 46 individual concentrations to choose from. Here’s some advice we wish we had when we were thinking about concentrations:

You are not limited to courses in your

concentration.

Don’t just pick the concentration you think will have the highest concentration (guffaw) of fun classes exactly like the one you just took and are obsessed with. Nor should you go with the concentration that you think will cover as many topics as possible. Just because you’re an art and architecture concentrator doesn’t mean that you won’t get to take your fair share of math and science courses (in fact, Gen Ed will shove a few down your throat). And don’t forget about related field courses that count for credit in your concentration: literature, for instance, counts up to four semesters of foreign language, in addition to the required three classes from psychology, philosophy, linguistics or English. Other concentrations are separated into several “tracks;” psychology, for instance, includes a general track, a Mind/Brain/Behavior track, and a Life Sciences track, all with plenty of overlap and elective freedom. Then again, some engineering tracks boast as many as 27 required classes, so it’s worth deciding early if you’d like to suffer that pain.

Consider class size and type.

Do you like small departments with tiny, discussion-based seminars? Or do you like to be that one student who always speaks up during large auditorium lectures?

While all concentrations will have required tutorials—smaller, narrow-topic classes that can end up being one-on-one by the time you are a senior—tutorials in larger concentrations take more of a lecture-andsection format. You won’t find much in the way of small seminars in government or economics (especially with Harvard’s bud-

get cutting).

Shop upper-level courses to get a clearer picture of what a concentration entails.

Life Sciences 1a and 1b do not give you a good idea of the breadth of the human evolutionary biology or molecular and cellular biology concentrations. Course titles can also be misleading, so take a careful look at the class syllabus and reserve reading list.

(Expecting Sigmund Freud in your psychology class? Wrong. Try English or philosophy instead.) All this being said, if you already have an inkling of what you’d like to concentrate in, do get the introductory requirement course over with. And if you are even the slightest bit interested, take CS 50 before you become one of the juniors regretting not concentrating in Computer Science.

Double concentrating, special concentrating, and secondary fielding: A few years ago, the College introduced Secondary Fields—what every other school calls a minor—but promptly began discouraging students from getting them.

Which makes sense! Don’t think of it as only needing a few more courses to get a super-decorated diploma. Think of it as having to slog through classes you would not otherwise take, miss two treasured electives you would, all for the sake of an extra designation NOT noted on your diploma that no one else will really care about anyways.

The College also discourages students from double concentrating and working out a unique concentration. (Is your desired concentration really not among those 46 already available?) Double concentrat-

ing requires a joint thesis and an enormous amount of intellectual wrestling, and most concentrations are flexible enough that you can probably write a thesis on that joint topic anyways. And classes from many different departments can count towards your concentration as well.

Do you want to write a thesis?

It’s not necessarily too early to think about this. For concentrations like Social Studies, a thesis is required. For a concentration like psychology, a thesis will eventually require serious research on fickle human subjects. For many concentrations, the thesis is optional, but required if you are seeking honors on your diploma. Right now it seems like a way to prove your academic mettle, a test of rigor, a brilliant idea. Next year when you see the same seniors shuffling down to brain break every night, wearing the same pajamas and desperate expression, it may start to seem like a crazy idea.

Are you Pre-med/Pre-law/Pre-Wall Street?

There’s generally no need to cater towards professional schools. From what we’ve seen and been told, this is unnecessary. To love your concentration and to do well in it is sufficient for medical schools, law schools, and business schools. Choosing a humanities concentration to go with your pre-med course load is insane but increasingly common. But if you love neurobiology and are pre-med, don’t feel the need to forsake the neurobio in order to differentiate yourself.

—Staff writer Chelsea L. Shover can be reached at clshover@fas.harvard.edu.

CRIMSON FILE PHOTO

Learning the Ins and Outs of the General Education Curriculum

By BONNIE J. KAVOUSSI CRIMSON STAFF WRITER

This is a historic year to be a Harvard freshman—not only because capricious budget cutting may render your favorite academic disciplines nonexistent, but also because you’re the first class to graduate under the new General Education curriculum.

Which means you guys are guinea pigs. Bad news first: The program was passed just two years ago, and it isn’t fully formed. Administrators are still trying to recruit professors to teach new classes, most Gen Ed classes are large lecture courses, and there aren’t many new non-humanities course offerings—

for the time being.

But don’t despair: freshman year is still the time to try out classes that look exciting, and 221 courses do count toward Gen Ed’s eight categories. So, chances are that you’ll be able to find some options that aren’t excruciatingly boring. Plan on taking one class that counts for Gen Ed credit each semester, and don’t put this off since you’ll have plenty of other requirements to deal with later—your concentration, for example.

The eight categories are: Aesthetic and Interpretive Understanding, Culture and Belief, Empirical and Mathematical Reasoning, Ethical Reasoning, Science of Living Systems, Science of the Physi-

cal Universe, Societies of the World, and The United States in the World.

Three types of classes count toward Gen Ed: courses explicitly labeled “General Education” in the course catalog, old-school Core Curriculum classes that still count for Gen Ed credit, and departmental alternatives. The latter two should be listed without course descriptions in the Gen Ed section of the course catalog.

Gen Ed administrators encourage some spontaneity in course selection— “we want freshmen to find courses that ignite their intellectual curiosity”—but there are incentives to plan ahead. Harvard’s “secondary fields,” or minors, typically require five to six classes, and for-

eign language citations require at least four courses past the introductory level.

If you’re pre-med, there goes another swath of courses. Your concentration will likely require 12 to 16 classes as well.

So with only 32 total course slots available in your undergraduate career (unless you choose to take five classes per semester, which is doable but not ideal), you may want to reconsider padding your resume with a Portuguese language citation if your family is already from Brazil.

A final note: Freshman seminars don’t usually count towards your concentration, but they are a great opportunity to get to know a professor and not worry about grades. Take advantage

of these, especially since small seminars may soon be a thing of the past in this era of budget cuts. Just don’t forget about those Gen Ed requirements!

Here are a few Gen Ed courses being offered next year that have received good reviews from students in the past: Culture and Belief 11, “Medicine and the Body in East Asia and in Europe”: Instead of writing response papers, students get to produce an iMovie each week to respond to the readings.

Science of Living Systems 11, “Molecules of Life”: Here you’ll learn about sex, drugs, and aging...in other words, biology from a college student’s perspective. Reputed to be unconscionably easy as well.

Culture and Belief 22, “The Heroic and the Anti-Heroic in Classical Greek Civilization”: Under an old name, this class was a student favorite in the Core Curriculum. Classics Professor Gregory Nagy is renowned for his pop culture references and his ability to bring to life stuffy characters in ancient texts.

Ethical Reasoning 12, “Political Justice and Political Trials”: Every student we’ve talked to who’s taken this class highly recommends it. History Professor Charles S. Maier ’60, a former Crimson editorial chair who’s been teaching at Harvard since 1967, is something of a legend.

—Staff writer Bonnie J. Kavoussi can be reached at kavoussi@fas.harvard.edu.

THE HARVARD CRIMSON

PAGE 4

Must-Haves for Life in College

By ALEX M. MCLEESE and AMY SUN CRIMSON STAFF WRITERS

When you enter the Yard’s gates, you’ll be greeted by deep history, vast email flows, great diversity, and of course the unexpected. Prepare for the year ahead by making sure you own these carefully selected items, whether you bring them from home or buy them at shops in the Square.

“Making the Most of College,” by Richard J. Light: A Harvard education professor asked Harvard students about their undergraduate years. The product is a short book that is perfect for freshmen, covering advising, choosing classes, and managing your time.

Protection against the elements: Boston. Weather. Sucks. You need scarves, gloves, hats, and boots to enjoy snowball fights in the Yard. On many days, the wind rasps and howls, stopping you in your tracks on your way to a mug of hot chocolate in Annenberg.

After the storm, Mass. Ave. becomes a moat of slush, the likes of which can only ever be seen on the ancient, misshapen streets of Cambridge. As the weather warms, the entire Yard sinks into a giant puddle of mud. Girls—unless you want to destroy every pair of shoes you own, bring a pair of galoshes.

Smartphone: For the two dozen email list subscriptions you’ll sign up for at the Freshman Activities Fair. Essential for the comp processes of many organizations.

Camera: Cool things happen at Harvard. You might see the Dalai Lama rolling in a stretch limo behind Lamont, you may run into Emma Watson during breakfast at the ’Berg, and the guys and gals running by your dorm during Primal Scream may be future Congressmen. Needless to say, you’ll want to keep track of your Harvard memories.

Moleskine or Google calendar: You’ll want something to help juggle your activities’ incessant meetings.

Civilized décor: Perhaps a world map for keeping track of your new friends and your new study abroad fantasies, fine art posters to complement the brick walls and fireplaces in your dorm, and a plant to help circulate oxygen in your cramped quarters.

Music and Speakers: For studying, working out, and having impromptu dance parties in your dorm room. Also, FAS IT is watching you, so don’t count on being able to illegally pirate music during your time here.

Bright lamp: The lighting in your room will be spotty, so save your eyes

AUGUST 27, 2009

How to Keep Off the Freshman Fifteen

By MOLLY M. STRAUSS CRIMSON STAFF WRITER

A year from now, as you Facebookstalk acquaintances from high school to see how they’ve fared away from Mommy and Daddy, your first response is likely going to be “Ew.” Why? Unfortunately for you, and for many an incoming college student before you, the dreaded Freshmen 15 is no fiction. So, take a long look in the mirror, because there’s a pretty good chance your figure won’t be looking this slim—or jacked, depending on your gender—come May. (Actually, come November. Who are we kidding?)

That being said, there are steps you can take to make your weight gain less dramatic. Let’s say you’re aiming for the Freshman 7.5. But, how?

1. Avoid the Fro-Yo

ALAN C. CHIU—CRIMSON PHOTOGRAPHER

when you toil until sunrise.

Desk chair or seat cushion: Harvard outfits its dorms with unsightly, backbreaking chairs. Avoid them and study in your room pain-free.

Business Suit: For interviews and Model UN/Mock Trial/HFAC/etc.

Tuxedo or gown: You’ll want to attend Harvard’s swank formals, which are like prom—or the Yule ball from “Harry Potter.” Come prepared and avoid Cambridge’s steep prices. Buy one now so you’ll get a return on your investment.

Mattress pad: You won’t sleep much at Harvard, so you’ll want to make sure what you get counts. Try memory foam.

Earplugs: For when your roommate snores through multiple alarm clocks as tour guides holler and the Memorial Church bells thunder.

Tupperware, mug, and bowl: A mug for perpetual cups of coffee in the ‘Berg, Tupperware for Annen-burgling, and a bowl for lifting the goodies at expanded brain breaks.

Reusable water bottle: You will save money and study better with water on hand. If you keep an eye out, you’ll be able to snag free water bottles at events on campus.

Power strip: Because you need it for your thicket of accessories and because

Harvard tends to place its outlets in awkward places.

EXTRAS Bruins, Celtics, Pats, and Red Sox gear: Bostonians are obsessed with sports, and with so many successful teams, they are arrogant. Buy in or get ready to talk trash.

Subscription to the New Yorker (you can also find it online for free): Many Harvard professors write for America’s premier magazine. Staff writers include history professor Jill Lepore and English professors Louis Menand and James Wood.

Costumes and fabulous thematic partying materials: Harvard students are too creative to party like normal people. At celebrations with names like Heaven and Hell, Sweet n’ Nasty, Leather and Lace, and with themes ranging from Eurotrash to Gatsby, you’ll want to reinvent yourself as often as Madonna.

Stop by Oona’s on Mass. Ave. for an exotic hodgepodge.

Tennis and squash rackets: With gorgeous tennis courts across the river and squash courts in the gyms and river houses, you’ll regret not bringing your racket for IM sports.

Polo mallet: If you want to fully immerse yourself in the timeless masculin-

ity of Harvard’s dead socialites, you will be happy to learn that the Harvard polo team has recently been resurrected.

Guide to Harvard’s history: The blue plaques will get you started, but you’ll want to know exactly where George Washington and W. E. B. DuBois lived. And what short-lived style of architecture was Annenberg built in, after all? Who’s my dorm named after? What did Charles Eliot do with electives?

These stories hit close to home.

Picnic basket and blanket: While the leaves still burn on the trees, grab some dining hall grub and flock to the verdant banks of the Charles.

Mao’s Little Red Book: The Square today is all commercial banks, but it wasn’t always this way. In the fifties and sixties, Harvard was known as the Kremlin on the Charles, and rebellious students occupied administration buildings (witness the monstrosity that is riot-proof Canaday). Communists will still accost you in front of the Coop, and the venerable Revolution Bookstore is still in business on Mass. Ave. With Mao’s book, you will be able to separate true radical from poseur—and get a head start on your course in Chinese history.

—Staff writer Alex M. McCleese can be reached at amcleese@fas.harvard.edu.

As you’ll soon discover, all Harvard dining halls are home to frozen yogurt machines. “Does that mean I can have melty, sugary, creamy goodness for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?” you ask. Yes, it does. Many an eager freshman will exit the ’Berg daily with telltale bowl or cone. But, warning: HUDS fro-yo does not count as a “healthy” dessert option, and over-consumption has its (very real) consequences.

If you must, make a trip to Berryline for a cold treat that’s actually made out of yogurt.

2. Sign up for intramurals There’s nothing more collegiate than watching your highly-competitive dormmates get worked up about throwing a frisbee. You might even find yourself in the grips of a rare emotion: dorm pride.

Plus, you’ll be outside and moving, which is a must after holing up in Lamont for 14 hours straight.

3. Don’t Go “For the Food” You’ll find that whenever anyone wants to lure you to his or her organization’s

event/info session/comp meeting/seminar/ movie showing/date event, they will do so by offering you free food. Do not be hoodwinked. True, it will taste better than dining hall fare. And, true, it will cost nothing. But showing up to everything “just for the food” is a tell-tale sign that the 15 are on their way.

So, be judicious. If you know you’re going to be a Chemistry concentrator, skip the Psychology department’s “Burritos, Brain, and Behavior.” But when there’s dessert from Finale, go. You won’t be regret it.

4. Work Them Muscles Hemenway Gymnasium and the Malkin Athletic Center (referred to lovingly as the MAC) have both undergone serious renovation in recent years, transforming them from smelly-and-sketchy to cleanand-beautiful. They offer free classes where you can tone that booty (pilates, yoga, kick boxing), and/or shake it (step, zumba).

And there’s a personal TV on every elliptical, treadmill, stairmaster, and stationary bike—it’s the only place where you can watch Real Housewives of New Jersey without feeling guilty! Note: Hemenway can be crazy at peak hours, when amped-up law students battle for a limited number of machines. Head to the MAC for a more stressfree experience.

5. The Deadly Trio Noch’s, Felipe’s, the Kong. They are names you will grow to know well—favorite late-night eateries frequented at 2 a.m. by the very drunk and the very hungry. Greasy and cheap, they are every college student’s dream. But beware. As you accompany your stumbling friends in their early morning revelries and somehow end up at one of these three, try only eating half of what you order, and share the rest. Or pick the smallest thing on the menu. Or just sit there.

(Let’s face it—there’s a good chance your friends won’t remember, anyway.)

—Staff writer Molly M. Strauss can be reached at mstrauss@fas.harvard.edu.

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THE HARVARD CRIMSON

AUGUST 27, 2009

Guide to Administrators

By BONNIE J. KAVOUSSI CRIMSON STAFF WRITER

DREW GILPIN FAUST—UNIVERSITY PRESIDENT A Civil War historian by training, the affable Faust was chosen by the Harvard Corporation to patch up tensions left over from the University’s own civil war between the Faculty and Faust’s predecessor, Lawrence H. Summers.

So far, Harvard’s first female president seems to have won the goodwill of many—even DREW G. FAUST eating lunch with students in Eliot House on one occasion, only to find herself the recipient of an over-sized t-shirt protesting layoffs.

While the endowment plunges, she continues to cling to her “green” initiatives and her plans to expand the Harvard arts scene.

Thus far, Faust has played a seemingly hands-off role as an administrator, relying heavily on departing Executive Vice President Edward C. Forst ’82—a former Goldman Sachs executive who served as Faust’s right-hand man in a post that she created. For the most part, she has continued to allow the deans of Harvard’s twelve different schools to make policy decisions on their own— reverting to Harvard’s age-old decentralized philosophy of “every tub on its own bottom.”

STEVEN E. HYMAN—UNIVERSITY PROVOST Even though the Provost’s Office was created just over a decade ago, this behind-the-scenes operator is Harvard’s top academic administrator and second-in-command to the President. Former President Larry Summers tapped Hyman, a neuroscientist by training, for the Provost’s post in 2001, after Hyman had spent five years in Washington as director of the National Institute of Mental Health. He may now be a tenured neurobiology professor at the Medical School, but Hyman actually completed his undergraduate degree summa cum laude in philosophy and humanities at our beloved rival school in New Haven.

The recent expansion of the Provost’s Office underscores Hyman’s growing power as a counterweight to Harvard’s traditional decentralization. He decides which interdisciplinary, multi-school initiatives the University should under-

take—for example, between the Medical School, the Law School, and the College. And with Faust preoccupied by the financial crisis and appearing to lack a grander vision for the University, some see Hyman as the flag-bearer for her predecessor’s ambitious plans, continuing pricey initiatives in stem cell research and other sciences.

MICHAEL D. SMITH—DEAN OF THE FACULTY OF ARTS AND SCIENCES Known for his calm demeanor, Smith has stood at the helm of the Faculty of Arts and Sciences for just over two years, overseeing both calm growth and the great market crash. In July 2007, he became the fourth Dean of the Faculty in just over a year, as one dean was fired

by Summers, the next had to take medical leave due to prostate cancer, and the third’s term expired. A MICHAEL D. popular professor SMITH and former software company chairman, Smith actually co-taught an undergraduate Computer Science course last spring, even though he’s technically granted a teaching exemption as a high-level administrator.

But with budget cuts looming large, he won’t be teaching any undergraduate classes this year. Smith’s next task: “reshaping” the Faculty of Arts and Sciences (composed of Harvard College, the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences, the School of Engineering and Applied Sciences, and the Extension School) into a smaller, more efficient entity, and slashing FAS’s remaining $143 million deficit by the summer of 2011.

EVELYNN M. HAMMONDS—DEAN OF THE COLLEGE Hammonds is both Harvard’s first minority and first female Dean of the College. In a 2004 article in The Black Studies Reader, she described herself as “a Black, lesbian, feminist, writer, scientist, historian of science, and activist.” Taking her minority status to heart, she chose Ronald S. Sullivan Jr. and Stephanie IM A. Robinson—an NAME ’00 African-American couple that teaches at Harvard Law

School—as Winthrop House’s new masters when the previous House masters stepped down. But some students have complained about Hammonds’ lack of transparency and visibility on campus, especially this past spring when various budget decisions—slashing hot breakfasts, cutting JV sports teams, and originally even trimming the shuttle schedule—were made without student input.

Indeed, the most likely place to find her is in University Hall.

JAY M. HARRIS—DEAN OF UNDERGRADUATE EDUCATION This indefatigable worker is simultaneously loved and feared by students.

He can be found lifting weights in the Cabot House gym, in a lecture hall teaching Biblical history, in a seminar room running a General Education committee meeting, in Cabot Dining Hall eating dinner with sophomores, or in his University Hall office listening to jazz music while working. While Harris can have a short temper with the press, his dedication is unquestionable: this curricular czar wakes up at 4:50 a.m. every morning and always seems to be juggling five different jobs, all of which have some focus on undergraduates.

THE HARVARD CORPORATION The Harvard Corporation—the shady governing board that actually runs Harvard University—was first formed in 1650, over a century before the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Also known as “the President and Fellows of Harvard College,” the Corporation determines the fate and funding of all major University projects, appoints the new University President in a secretive selection process, and decides how much money is paid out from the endowment to each (now cash-starved) school in the University.

The Corporation’s seven members serve lifelong terms, and when any one of them chooses to retire, the group appoints the successor. The Corporation’s meeting agendas and minutes are also kept secret. The group is composed of President Faust, two professors (at Georgetown and Princeton), the head of an economic policy research institute, a couple of business leaders, and the former director of Citigroup, Robert Rubin. Some alumni might think they’re electing representatives when they vote for members of the Board of Overseers every year, but in reality, that governing board usually just rubber-stamps the Corporation’s decisions.

—Staff writer Bonnie J. Kavoussi can be reached at kavoussi@fas.harvard.edu.

PAGE 5

THE HARVARD CRIMSON

PAGE 6

AUGUST 27, 2009

Getting Around Boston Trains, buses, and footwear are essential to travel around the city

By SARAH J. HOWLAND and SHAN WANG CRIMSON STAFF WRITERS

Your parents have driven away and you’re stranded in an unfamiliar city teeming with other equally disoriented fellow first-years and tourists. But no worries: this article will turn you into a savvy Cantabridgian in minutes.

WALKING Harvard’s campus is very walkerfriendly (or at least it is until winter, when the cobblestones turn into narrow, icy, ankle-twisting paths). Cross streets aggressively and stare down disgruntled motorists—they’re required to stop for pedestrians in cross walks.

In under five minutes, you can get from the Yard to the Law School and Hemenway Gym. Just go north, behind the Science Center, and voila. The Business School is about 20 minutes away, south of the Yard and just across the Charles. In the unfortunate event that you need to rush to University Health Services emergency room, it’s accessible 24 hours a day. Take either Dunster St. or Holyoke St and follow the bizarre driveway that dips underneath the Holyoke Center.

SHUTTLES Should you decide to visit Mather or the Quad, the exotic locales that throw most of the legitimate House parties on campus, you’ll want to use the shuttles. They leave from outside Lamont (Mather), Boylston Gate (the Quad), and behind Annenberg (both).

On weekends and after midnight on weekdays, shuttles can take you all the way from Dunster to Pfoho, stopping at most of the useful points in between.

When riding that late night bus with 50 other partygoers (watch out for vomit!), be grateful that the College decided against a plan to drastically reduce shuttle service.

Shuttle schedules are available online, and in a pinch you can call 617495-0400 or text message Shuttleboy to find out when the next shuttle is due to arrive.

CHARLIE CARD There’s only one way you should be paying for public transportation in Cambridge and Boston: a Charlie

Card. They’re available for free from MBTA officials and can be endlessly refilled at ticket kiosks inside T stations.

Simply tap them on the designated sensor to ride buses or get through the T gates. Don’t buy individual ride tickets, which are more expensive than when purchased on a Charlie Card, and under absolutely no circumstances should you buy a monthly pass.

BUSES Need a break from high-priced boutiques and Free Tibet protesters in the Square? Or are you craving an all-American, consumerist experience?

The Cambridgeside Galleria Mall is only a 20-minute bus ride away: Hop on the number 69 bus at Johnston Gate, ride all the way to Lechmere, cross Cambridge St., and head two blocks south on First St. If you get off a little earlier, you’ll find yourself in Inman Square, home of cheap Indian

“Are you craving an all-American, consumerist experience? The Cambridgeside Galleria Mall is only a 20-minute bus ride away.” cuisine and lots of cafes.

The 86 bus departs underground at the T stop and will take you into Allston, Harvard’s new frontier. Of course, you could just walk.

ONE LINE, TWO LINE, RED LINE, GREEN LINE The T, known to all non-Bostonians as the subway and to MBTA officials as “rapid transit,” is anything but rapid, but at least is gloriously simple.

It is made up of four major lines, all labeled with easy colors. If you’re in a rush to catch that midnight movie showing, remember that the T runs until 12:45am at the latest and that trains are sometimes few and far between on weekends. Check the MBTA Web site to find routes and estimates of trip times.

RED LINE Get on board the Red Line at the Harvard Square T stop. (Use the main entrance at the “pit” rather than the entrances by the Body Shop or East-

ern Mountain Sports, especially late at night.) The “outbound” ramp on the right will take you to Porter Square and its 24-hour Shaw’s supermarket, and a little bit further you’ll find Davis Square with its cafes and vintage shops.

The “inbound” direction will take you into the depths of downtown Boston and even Quincy, should you ever need to venture so far from Harvard. The inbound Red Line will also take you to South Station, where you can take the Greyhound or suspiciously cheap Fung Wah buses, or transfer to the Silver Line to Logan Airport.

GREEN LINE Five Green Line trains labeled A through E can be accessed from the Park Street station, which you can reach by the Red Line. There you’ll find Boston Common, where you can trek the Freedom Trail, skate at Frog Pond during the winter, or watch a movie at Loews Cinema. If you wait for the E train, you can ogle at paintings at the Museum of Fine Arts or the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. Be careful at Park Street, since not every train that comes will take you to your desired destination.

ORANGE LINE The Orange Line, perhaps the sketchiest of the subway lines, is accessible from the Red Line at Downtown Crossing. There you can shop at the indispensable H&M and Macy’s. One stop more will take you to Chinatown for Dim Sum and Asian supermarkets.

The end of the inbound line takes you to Forest Hills, from where you can walk to Harvard’s Arnold Arboretum.

Check out Haymarket in the outbound direction, where you can buy amazingly cheap produce at the bustling open air market. Also get off there to explore the North End, Boston’s Little Italy.

BLUE LINE From Park Street, ride the Green Line one stop to Government Center, where you’ll find the Blue Line. There you can marvel at the large and spectacularly ugly Government Center building, or cross the street to Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market for some upscale shopping. Continue on the blue line to the Aquarium or even Revere Beach if spring finals and bad weather don’t deter you.

—Staff writer Sarah J. Howland can be reached at showland@fas.harvard.edu.

—Staff writer Shan Wang can be reached at wang38@fas.harvard.edu.

KERI D. MABRY—CRIMSON PHOTOGRAPHER

THE HARVARD CRIMSON

AUGUST 27, 2009

PAGE 7

Navigating the Harvard Social Scene

By JILLIAN K. KUSHNER CRIMSON STAFF WRITER

If you were admitted to Harvard, chances are that you have a Type A personality. If you were admitted to Harvard, have a Type A personality, and consider yourself a social person, chances are that you’re spending your last days at home kissing fun as you know it goodbye with indulgent selfpity, perhaps rueing your decision to attend Harvard over [insert state school here]. Maybe you’ve desperately sought out all of the Class of 2013 Facebook group members with an affinity for intoxicating substances. Maybe you’ve even created a group called “The Class of 2013 Social Crew.”

Chances are that you’ll never actually party with these people, you’ll regret creating that Facebook group, and you’ll never venture into Boston this year. (If you do, bouncers will laugh in your face as you try to sweet talk your way into bar.) But you will have fun, we promise.

Roughly 30 percent of people on campus “go out”, define the phrase as you will. Of those, many are athletes, freshman girls, or members of those elusive final clubs. Many, but not all.

Any collection of college students who spend enough time together will inevitably play together. The Sanctum in The Crimson has seen everything from table dancing compers to a lot of St. Patty’s Day smooching. That semi-secret Sorrento Square organization that used to occasionally publish a so-called humor magazine, otherwise known as the Harvard Lampoon, has been known to throw down a few good ones. Even the Undergraduate Council and DAPAs (Drug and Alcohol Peer Advisors) know how to have fun.

club hopping on Saturday nights, but you will have your revenge senior year when you invite BU girls to your date events—that is, if you decide to join a final club or fraternity. If not, you will learn to master the room party, in all its sweaty glory.

Some rooms are known to throw pretty solid events. These suites, scattered around the campus but most highly concentrated in the Quad (to compensate for the fact that the administration hates Quadlings), are usually freshman boy friendly venues. And their inhabit-

ants fully accept their civic responsibility to host underclassmen. Freshman boys, keep your ears peeled for get-togethers hosted at what we’ll call alternative venues: upperclassmen houses, party suites, the occasional dining hall.

We’re willing to wager that more freshmen attended Heaven and Hell in Currier House on Halloween weekend than the freshman formal or First Chance Dance.

Does Harvard hibernate in the winter?

The first week of school and shopping week are hopping. Hallowe e n ,

Harvard-Yale weekend, the holiday season, reading periods, and garden party season are all fantabulous times to go out. That said, there aren’t really any bad months to have fun on campus (aside from March). If you’d like to get into the final club scene, Thursdays and Saturdays are almost always good nights to go out. Fridays can be questionable but are the perfect time to scoot on over to an MIT frat party. (Yes, we know what you’re thinking, but somehow MIT has lively Greek life and block parties.) And Monday nights at

I heard Harvard freshmen guys can’t get into parties—is this true?

That said, there is some truth to the rumors of the freshman boy’s plight.

You will get turned away from final clubs—which, in most senses, replace the fraternities at state schools, even though there are a few sororities and fraternities at Harvard. We like to think of final clubs as big playhouses for the boys, though there are four female final clubs. Your freshman girl friends might ditch you after the pregame to go final

BORA FEZGA - CRIMSON PHOTOGRAPHER

Uno’s are usually good for karaoke, especially for freshmen.

Fitting into the final club scene If you’re interested in the final club scene, there are several do’s and don’ts you should be aware of. If you’re a freshman guy, do take advantage of the Delphic’s relatively lenient door policies. (But unless it’s garden party season—May—or summer, don’t go to the Delphic before 1 a.m and do not stay past 3.) If you don’t get in, don’t say The Crimson told you that you would.

If you’re on a sports team, you’ll probably get into the Delphic and Owl on occasion, and you will most definitely enjoy the perks of team-hosted parties.

Freshman girls: do keep in mind that the social scene offers not only the opportunity to have fun and fraternize with the surprisingly good looking men of Harvard, but also the opportunity to work on your networking skills. You might just meet the girls who will become your future blockmates and best friends at a random white-out party freshman week. Sororities, female final clubs, and even the Freeze magazine mixers are a nice way to befriend girls with whom you have at least one thing in common—you like to have fun.

Now for some don’ts: Don’t act like you own the Delphic. If the President says don’t go upstairs, he’s not going to think it’s cute when you do.

Don’t mock [insert club here]’s somewhat arcane rules—club members actually take them quite seriously. Don’t take it personally when there are more BU, BC, Wellesley, and Tufts girls at the AD’s Christmas party, or pink party, or Caddyshack party—it is no reflection on your wit, intellect, or desirability. (Just think of them as walking ego-boosters. They save you work.) Just don’t call them “imports” to their faces—Harvard girls keep it classy.

Lastly, if one scene is not for you, don’t worry. You’ll find your niche. But enough with the negatives—all right, maybe just one more. Don’t feel bad if you’re not inducted into the Hasty Pudding social club. Seriously. Unless your daddy was just featured on the Forbes’ annual billionaires list—in that case, do feel bad. You must have said something wrong.

—Staff writer Jillian K. Kushner can be reached at kushner@fas.harvard.edu.

Hook Up First, Romance Later DATING from Page 1 other, you’d probably known that person for years before anything romantic happened. You’d probably summered together on the Vineyard, learned English riding in the Adirondacks, and attended high school together in a fancy Swiss boarding school, all the while building a strong, stable relationship founded on friendship.

As hormones began pulsating from your preppy pituitaries, you probably began to slowly add romance to the top of your pyramid’s well established friendship base. You probably talked on the phone for hours before you “made it official.” Hundreds of notes were probably passed before your big first date. And you probably developed carpal tunnel from texting so much before your first kiss.

But at Harvard, relationship pyramids are built from the top-down.

Sound impossible? Well it nearly is. You hook up first, and talk about it later— maybe. But usually, there’s so much to do and so little time that most people don’t get around to talking. So if you have an incredible hook-up and want a relationship, you’re going to need to initiate contact, and pronto!

THE VERDICT So what is to be done? The Crimson’s advice is to go with the flow. Pace yourself: if you start too fast you’ll never live down your reputation as that skanky roommate who was caught in a G-string having a three-some on the common room floor freshman week.

But also remember that Harvard is no longer a school for Puritans. Let yourself have fun! When else in your life are you going to be surrounded by a pool of such well-rounded, eligible singles? You’re going to regret sitting on the sidelines, so strap on your sexiest knickerbockers or slip into your spiciest cardigan and roll with it.

—Staff writer Charles J. Wells can be reached at wells2@fas.harvard.edu.

THE HARVARD CRIMSON

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AUGUST 27, 2009

OPINION MAXWELL L. CHILD ’10 PRESIDENT

CLIFFORD M. MARKS ’10 MANAGING EDITOR

DANIEL E. HERZ-ROIPHE ’10 EDITORIAL CHAIR

The Harvard Crimson

JAMES M. WILSTERMAN ’10 EDITORIAL CHAIR

STEVEN J. STELMACH ’10 BUSINESS MANAGER

The University Daily Since 1873

THE CRIMSON STAFF

Camp Harvard Revealed How to survive once you arrive

Y

ou’re almost at college, freshman! No parents for miles! This is going to be special, right? Well, regrettably, as The Crimson Staff, it is our obligation to bring you the veritas of your situation. Harvard may be an old school, but it’s nothing like Old School.

You won’t be doing many keg stands, but you will get to try out a shiny new curriculum that is not yet obsolete (or at all different from the old one).

You will probably have to go to a few lectures once in a while, but don’t fret, your professors (if you meet them) will all be extraordinary in one way or another. Your Ec10 TF might have a recurring role on “Om sarac, om bogat,” that sidesplitting sitcom out of Bucharest. Too bad you’ll never know it, since she only speaks Romanian!

Fortunately, we have some words of advice to help you break out of your high school years in style.

What you need to do is make these first days count.

Harvard students have on average a scant 2.75 sex partners during their time here. But what the statistics don’t tell you is that the first experience occurs during Camp Harvard, the other during Senior Week, and the only thing to keep you going in between is that fraction of a person you will meet one lonely winter’s night in the Quad. That’s what people mean when they say make these first days count—otherwise it’s a long four years.

And yes, you should reconsider advanced standing (it’s one of our favorite positions).

To make the most of Opening Days you’re going to need to find a party or two. Don’t fret, we understand your social naïveté, which is why we offer you a suggestion: Just grab a GPS-enabled iPhone and map a course to that massive cluster of your “new friends”

wandering the Yard. Better yet, buy a hundred iPhones and turn them on right now in your dorm room—the party’s right here, y’all!

If you’re wondering what student groups to get involved with, it’s fairly straightforward. Do you find this prose disdainful in a manner that is at once didactic and orotund? If so, comp the Advocate. Are you copyediting this page at Berryline while listening to Miley Cyrus with your pants off? If so, comp The Crimson. Or are you just holding out for a penis joke? Well then, you’re doomed to comp the Lampoon.

Or maybe you were just planning on spending time this year making inroads into your social club of choice.

Punch is just around the corner! Consider organizing a game of backgammon with the gentlemen of the Delphic Club over some afternoon chamomile. Or if you are looking for a really down-to-earth set, try the Spee Club. We hear they’re above showing off. Nevermind, check that: apparently “they’re above Schoenhof ’s.”

Perhaps you fancy yourself a maverick or the candidate for change, and are eyeing a seat on the prestigious and influential Undergraduate Council. Lucky for you, we have come up with the perfect campaign strategy to get you there: Step one, launch a “grassroots” Facebook group to get your acquaintances out to the polls. Step two, don a business suit (like a real politician!) and go door-to-door shaking hands and kissing babies. And lastly, hook up with someone at The Crimson—because we call the shots around here! Got that, Flores?!

Best of luck, Class of 2013. You are the heroes Harvard deserves, but not the ones it needs right now. And so we’ll make fun of you, because you can take it.

Time Waits for No Council The UC needs to reconvene earlier

A

s students arrived on campus last September, classes, organizations, clubs and societies alike seemed to hit the ground running—that is, all except for the Undergraduate Council, whose flawed election schedule leaves students virtually without representation during the summer and the first month back in Cambridge. Instead of the president and vice president shouldering the burden alone—leading to logistical difficulties and stalling progress on ongoing projects—the UC should continue to meet with the same representatives as the year before, until elections determine a changing of the guard in October.

Student life does not pause for the first month of school, and many campus organizations with immediate organizational needs face frustration as they try to start the year with no functional UC in place. Without the Finance Committee in session to process paperwork, many organizations have no choice but to stall business until their grant applications can be approved or denied. Similarly, student issues do not disappear from one year to the next, nor do they lack import during the first weeks of the year. While the UC president and vice president have a history of remaining on campus throughout the summer to maintain project momentum—often with great success—functionally dissolving the UC in May leaves them alone to represent an entire student body until elections in October. No matter the prowess of the president and vice president, no two individuals can possibly hear and effectively address the multitude of concerns facing students across campus.

These shortcomings of the “lame-duck” UC should be remedied by reconvening representatives from the previous year each fall. Certainly, this system of representation has its pitfalls: Houses with senior representatives last year would lack a direct voice on the Council, and last year’s freshman representatives would now live in Houses instead of the Yard. But even such an imperfect solution seems superior to a system that deprives students of representation

altogether. Since UC efforts often continue through the summer and into the following year, an interim assembly could easily focus on these ongoing issues until elections take place, waiting for October before choosing to address any new, large-scale projects.

Some fear that re-instating last year’s representatives—if only for a month—would give an advantage to incumbents during UC elections. Yet such concerns are outweighed by the importance of having a functional UC through September—one that can address student issues, provide immediate funding to student groups, and adequately represent the student body to the administration.

Addressing the UC’s prolonged period of inactivity, however, will not in itself ensure effective student representation on campus. Too often, UC members seem hesitant to address controversial issues facing their constituents. Specifically, the Student Affairs Committee (SAC), created to advocate for student interests, remained largely inactive in years past, and in so doing, lost many opportunities to bring campus-wide concerns to the attention of the administration. For instance, when party grants were discontinued in March 2008, students screamed their disapproval over open lists and in dorm rooms, from Mather to the Quad. However, SAC’s response did not seem to match the level of outrage present on campus.

No matter how effective the UC president and vice president are at negotiating with the administration, student representation will always be lacking until the UC can generate more widespread involvement in student issues. Until representatives once again return to their dining halls and common rooms with an ear for issues facing their peers, instead of choosing personal projects they alone deem worthwhile, the average student will continue to lack a voice in determining the policies they must later live by.

COMMENT: EMMA M. LIND

Stacked

We’re lucky to be able to romp in Widener Last week, I went to Widener to retrieve an essay for my tutorial and found myself (a displaced history and literature concentrator) wandering around the psychology section a few floors underground. The book Satanic Ritual Abuse: Principles of Treatment, by Colin A. Ross caught my eye.

It was revolting and disturbing, so naturally, I couldn’t tear myself away. It wasn’t until the motion-activated lights in the stacks went off, leaving me reading about devil worship in a subterranean blackout that I panicked. Grabbing my belongings, I booked it up the stairs, too terrified to wait for the elevator. As I burst back onto the main floor, panting and sweating, I thanked God I was alive and not being forced to drink blood of small woodland creatures. I then spent the remainder of my afternoon reading this book cover-to-cover in the safe and well-lit periodicals room.

My terrifying brush with ritual murder brought to mind some much-ignored Come to 14P!

advice I received several years ago: Open stacks, my mom had told me for countless hours as we tooled down rural highways on a masochistic college tour, are a vital element of advanced education.

Of course, those of us who still remember the pre-application college visit know that it can be a uniquely traumatizing experience. My form of pseudopublic humiliation always came at the library stop on the campus tour, where my mom would wave her hand wildly and shout to the unsuspecting student guide, “Do you have open stacks?”

As I pretended not to be related to the zealous Midwestern woman beside me, my mom would either loudly praise the college for allowing students to roam the libraries’ holdings or berate it for its refusal to further academic freedom. She claimed that open stacks were the key to a fulfilling college experience.

At the time, I thought my key to a fulfilling college experience was at least 500 miles between my parents and my

dorm. A book is a book, I thought, regardless of whether I myself was allowed to retrieve it or had to pluck it from the hands of a librarian.

Well into my fifth semester here, however, I’ve found the freedom and accessibility of our massive library system is one of the most rewarding aspects of a Harvard education. While we may have to wait for a librarian to retrieve rare 17th century manuscripts from the depository, the majority of books that undergraduates could want to access are, literally, at our fingertips. The mundane process of finding a book on HOLLIS and then swiping into Widener’s stacks is actually an act of academic autonomy that we are privileged to have. And as much as the average student dreams about a sexual romp in the stacks, those shelves are good for more than just a mediocre lay.

Emma M. Lind ’09, a former Crimson editorial chair, was a History and Literature concentrator in Winthrop House.

CRIMSON EDITORIAL POLICY Crimson Staff editorials represent the official opinion of The Crimson Staff, which is decided at Staff editorial meetings. Columns, opeds, and letters to the editors, as well as cartoons and illustrations, represent the opinions of their authors and do not represent the opinion of The Crimson Staff.

NICK BATTER

Additional Budget Cuts

By NATHANIEL H. STEIN

A

s you know, the College has announced the elimination of various services as the Faculty of Arts and Sciences attempts to bridge a substantial budget gap. In these tough times, we must all make sacrifices, and each of us must bear our fair share of the burden. In that spirit, we regretfully inform you of these additional policy changes for the 2009-2010 academic year.

Late night shuttle service, originally eliminated on weekdays, has now been restored. Although the transportation service will continue, cuts have forced us to replace the shuttles with giant, multiperson bicycles, which must be pedaled by the students. Further cuts have required us to shorten the route of late night service during the weekend, and shuttles will now pick up students from a deserted alley near Cambridge Common. Due to budget cuts, the lighting in this area has been eliminated. We want to stress, though, that these cuts have freed up additional funding for brain break, and we have arranged for special brain breaks for the entryway of any students who are mugged.

You are already aware that in order to begin to bridge the gap in the Harvard College Library budget, we have made the difficult decision to close the Quad Library.

Additionally, to save money, Lamont Library will be limiting service to first-year students and to students living in the River Houses. Quad residents are encouraged to make use of the University’s many other libraries, before they are slowly phased out.

An additional cost-cutting measure has forced us to convert Widener Library into a student center for graduate students.

Under the new budget, the dining hall experience will change slightly. In addition to the elimination of hot breakfast, dinner will be just warm, and lunch will be tepid.

In order to maximize the efficiency of the budget, all swipers will now be considered full-fledged concentration advisers, with full study-card signing rights. Rising food costs have forced us to severely reduce the menu options, most of which will now be based around plain bread. These cuts do not mean, of course, that we are prepared to compromise on accommodations, and students with special dietary needs are strongly encouraged to talk to their Allston Burr Resident Dean about withdrawing from the College. The dining halls in Cabot House, Currier House and Pforzheimer House will close completely.

Please keep in mind that these cutbacks have freed up funding for the long overdue replacement of the electronic information display consoles, which will be newly fitted with IMAX 3D displays.

Unfortunately, the cuts extend beyond residential life, into the classroom as well.

Sections will have more students on average, and students, gradually, will become dumber. Since Teaching Fellows will no longer be paid a living wage, grades will be contingent on tips. All sections will only meet every other week, and sections in the Government Department will be replaced by showings of “West Wing” reruns. Undergraduate advising has been eliminated, and will be replaced with a do-it-yourself

guide to advising, written by a committee of faculty in the style of a “choose your own adventure” book. Due to cutbacks, this book will only be made available on the Internet. The Q Guide, which we previously thought would be made available in electronic form as well, will instead be passed on by word of mouth in a new oral tradition. Students in the Quad will no longer have concentrations.

We realize that these changes may come as disappointing news, but we urge students to look on the bright side. Opportunities often emerge from adversity, and not all the news is bad. For example, running water will still be supplied to the Quad on weekends and to the Currier “Ten Man” on alternate Tuesdays. And we have specifically set aside funds for the completion of a new undergraduate student center on Mt. Auburn Street, to be finished in time for the College’s quadricentennial in 2036.

We do not take these difficult decisions lightly. University Hall understands the hardship this will mean for undergraduates, and we are all making sacrifices. For example, at a recent faculty meeting, the champagne was arguably subpar. As a symbol of our shared sacrifice, the statue of John Harvard will be meticulously chiseled down to a smaller size in proportion to the budget cut, at a cost of $2.6 million. Since improvements like this, and the amenities of Harvard life, do not come cheaply, we ask for your kind, tax-deductible donation.

Nathaniel H. Stein ’10 is an economics concentrator in Adams House. He is Head Writer of the Lampoon.

Give Legacies a Chance Three generations of idiots is enough

ALEXANDRA A.

PETRI PETRI DISHES In the 1927 case of Buck v. Bell, Chief Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes handed down the infamous ruling summarized in the subheadline above. He was talking about forced sterilization of the “feebleminded,” but his words also sum up one attitude towards Harvard’s legacy admissions. You can frequently hear muttering about how unfair it is that Harvard is admitting legacies over equally—or even more—qualified candidates. Anti-legacyism is the last acceptable prejudice. These underqualified, overprivileged, moderately pasty folk need to stop slipping over the admissions border and stealing everyone’s slots. Or so the argument goes.

Harvard’s admitted tendency to “take a second look” at legacy applicants continues to rouse periodic furors. After so many rejections—over 20,000 this year alone—Harvard has gotten pretty good at conveying when it’s not interested. But it has traditionally found it hard to say no to legacies, especially if they have cute trust funds. This generates a great deal of indignation. And indeed, on the surface, the statistics are fairly daunting. Harvard’s general acceptance rate hovers around 7 or 8 percent. Yet the admissions rate was between 34 and 35 percent for legacy applicants to the class of 2011. Given the weight its degrees carry, shouldn’t Harvard base its admissions solely on merit? Why should legacy status serve even as a “feather in the scale,” as Dean of Admissions Marlyn McGrath ’70 put it?

Maybe no one has made the right case for legacies. Sure, their SAT scores may be, on average, slightly higher than the rest

of the applicant pool. They may come predominantly from white, wealthy, prepschool backgrounds. Admitting them may encourage their parents to donate large sums of money to the college. But these are separate considerations. Maybe legacies deserve a second glance simply because they are legacies.

Speaking as a legacy myself (my grandmother, Radcliffe Class of 1951, has been suggesting that I write this article for a long time) I would argue that Harvard does owe us a little. The least you can give a child who was forced to grow up in a house with Harvard armchairs is a second look at his application. Scratch any legacy student and you will find someone who, as an infant, was forced to wear a bib that said I Will Go To Harvard Someday, or Future Freshman: On My Way to Harvard, or something of that ilk. If you are a young future-legacy, an entire section of the COOP exists specifically to make your life miserable, with crimson baby booties and Harvard bath towels—even Harvard teddy bears. Your family dinners have been interrupted for years by Harvard students calling to ask for donations. When you were in eighth grade, you had to trek up to Cambridge for your mother’s 25th reunion. It rained the whole time, and you had to listen to fifty year-old Pitches trying to recreate jazz standards.

And yet you still applied. After hearing about your uncle’s halcyon days in Eliot or your father’s failed UC campaign, you still concluded that you wanted to come to Harvard. You reconciled yourself to hearing a lecture on the decline of the core and the “college town” atmosphere whenever your parents came to visit. You girded your loins at the prospect of being rejected where your family members had been accepted. And you sent in your application.

Maybe Harvard does owe you.

Certainly there are tougher backgrounds. All those Harvard armchairs do not exactly betoken straitened cir-

cumstances. At least one of your parents’ roommates has become a high-powered lawyer, and he probably takes you out to lunch from time to time. But being a legacy with thoughts of applying is a very specific kind of adversity. What if you don’t make it? Will this prove that your parents are in fact smarter than you are— a thought mortifying to most adolescents?

Besides, after growing up in a household where everyone has fond memories of The Crimson or the Hist and Lit department, you know exactly what you’re getting into.

And although you know that, should you be accepted, your college experience will be different from the one your family members had, you also know that it won’t be radically different. It’s not as though you’re applying to Brown.

In fact, many legacies who apply to Harvard apply not because but in spite of the fact that their parents went here.

Harvard has so many opportunities that it can encompass students who are very different from their alumni parents. To coin a metaphor, Harvard is like an expensive restaurant. You and your parents may both eat there, but you won’t eat the same thing. Also, the restaurant is very hard to get into, and the food is terrible because of rising costs. And if you are not wearing the shoes of courage and the shirt of academic endeavor—but there the metaphor starts to break down.

So maybe we legacies do deserve our second look. We know what we’re getting into, and we still apply. That takes a certain amount of chutzpah. And speaking as a legacy, I can say one thing for certain: I didn’t apply to Harvard because my parents went here. I applied because Natalie Portman went here. Maybe the Admissions department should take that into account. If I were just following the family, I’d be at Butler now.

Alexandra A. Petri ’10 is an English and classics concentrator in Eliot House. Her column appears regularly.

AUGUST 27, 2009

THE HARVARD CRIMSON

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THE HARVARD CRIMSON

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AUGUST 27, 2009

From A to Z: The Vocabulary You Need 2 a.m.: 1. The hour that on-campus parties, Felipe’s, and your Cambridge Common: 1. Grassy knoll separating the Quad liver all shut down. 2. The hour you’re likely to have your first drunk run-in with HUPD (see HUPD). 3. When the Kong, house grilles, and final clubs are still serving.

from the rest of civilization. Steer clear at night to avoid being mugged and/or stabbed. (Seriously.) 2. Bar on Mass. Ave. popular with Quadlings.

ABP: 1. Acronym for the fast-food bakery Au Bon Pain, where croissants, chess enthusiasts, Harvardians, and tourists abound just beyond the Yard’s wrought-iron gates. 2. Where Matt Damon looked longingly into Minnie Driver’s eyes in “Good Will Hunting.”

Cantabridgians: 1. Pretentious name given to the residents of Cambridge. 2. What Yalies call us.

Central Square: 1. One T stop down Mass. Ave. You’ll never find yourself there for unsketchy reasons.

Adams House:

1. Faux-pretentious, overrated upper-class House located close to the Yard. 2. Adopted dining hall of many Quadlings and Wigglesworthians—those who can get past the armed butlers with megaphones and attack poodles, that is.

Charlie’s: 1. Inexpensive barbershop on Mass. Ave., convenient for Quad residents. 2. Eliot St. burger joint famous for greasy burgers and nonsensical pricing ($5 for a double, $8 for a triple).

Ad Board: 1. The Administrative Board of Harvard College. It Comping:

decides your fate if you screw up badly enough for anyone to take notice. 2. A verb: He was “ad-boarded” for getting really drunk and pushing his proctor out of the fifth-floor window (see Proctor).

Advocate: 1. The Harvard Advocate, a literary magazine that has

been known to disseminate the cocaine-induced ramblings of the hipster upper crust. 2. Crumbling wood-frame structure behind Noch’s which may or may not still be standing by the time you graduate.

All-Nighter: 1. A last-resort tactic to complete a long paper

(freshman year); usual method of completing assignments (junior year). 2. Why CVS stays open 24/7.

Allston: 1. The current home of Harvard’s athletic facilities and a future home of upper class houses (goodbye, Quad!) 2. Home of Blanchard’s, king of kegs (and painfully cheap gin). 3. An area (allegedly) infested with rats after Harvard dug a humongous hole and then abandoned it due to budget constraints.

The ’Berg: 1. Annenberg Hall, the cathedral-esque structure

(complete with stained glass) that serves as the dining hall for all first-years. 2. Where food goes to die.

Blocking: 1. Often painful process in March during which you

will have to select your seven closest friends. Have fun.

Boston: 1. Where you tell people you go to school. 2. The city you claimed made you choose Harvard over Yale. 3. Thirteen minutes from Harvard on the Red Line. 4. A place you will rarely have occasion to visit in your four years here.

Brain Break: 1. A late-night snack in the dining halls of Houses

and the ’Berg (see the ’Berg). 2. Where to rediscover the brownies you didn’t eat at dinner. 3. Where Adams House sometimes stations its security guard at 10 p.m., lest a Quincyite try to grab a bite (see Adams House).

1. Harvard-speak for the sometimes-competitive training process for joining a student group. 2. Still the only way to get on the staff of The Crimson, the Advocate, or the Lampoon.

Concentration: 1. What every other college in America calls a

“major.” 2. What one loses in section while checking out attractive freshmen.

Coop: 1. Where tourists go to buy overpriced Harvard sweatshirts and key chains; where you will stand in line for hours at the beginning of each semester to buy overpriced textbooks. 2. Where you will never go once you realize eBay and Amazon are a hell of a lot cheaper. 3. Rhymes with “loop,” not “blow-pop.”

Co-op: 1. Mispronunciation of the Coop (see Coop). 2. Harvard

alternative accommodations for those who find the housing system “restrictive,” complete with naked cooking, rampant drug use, and those who swing both ways.

Core: 1. Seven required courses that allegedly taught your el-

ders “approaches to knowledge” through samurai and dinosaurs.

2. What won’t exist by the time you graduate (but you might not notice the difference).

Cornell: 1. An inferior school somewhere way west of Cambridge. 2. The one hockey game of the year you shouldn’t miss.

The Harvard Crimson: 1. The only thing on campus worth

reading. 2. Cambridge’s only breakfast table daily, founded in 1873.

3. The name of almost every athletic team on campus, except for women’s crew and rugby (see Radcliffe).

Crimson Key: 1. Over-enthusiastic cult of students who organize Opening Days. 2. A group that gives campus tours to wideeyed visitors, but not prospective students (after the Admissions Office gave them the boot).

in various River Houses. Comes complete with MTV, dishwasher, refrigerator, bathtub, and bay windows. 2. You and everyone else will subsidize these luxury condominiums by suffering in cockroach-infested, cramped doubles when you’re sophomores.

Domna: 1. Ruthless (and legendary) Annenberg card swiper

who left Harvard after nearly 22 years this past summer. 2. Name that still makes upperclassmen quake in their boots (especially those who forgot their swipe cards frequently).

Dormcest: 1. Act of hooking up with a student living in close proximity, usually in the same dorm or entryway (see Hookup). 2.

The source of most Sunday brunch gossip.

Dudley House: 1. The “House” for the small percentage of students who live off-campus. 2. Overseer of the Co-op (not to be confused with the bookstore; see Co-op).

Dunster House: 1. Also known as “Dumpster House,” but

home to a swanky renovated dining hall. 2. The building shown on every postcard that you will send home.

Ec 10: 1. Introduction to capitalism taught by textbook tycoon

Gen Ed: 1. Supposedly a revolutionary and improved implementation of what are basically distribution requirements. 2. Say hello to the new boss, same as the old boss...

Grade Inflation: 1. The supposed across-the-board raising of

grades to undeserved levels by Harvard professors. 2. The sworn enemy of Prof. Harvey “C-” Mansfield ’53. 3. Hard to find, like Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster.

Grill Order: 1. What to ask for at Annenberg when countryfried steak simply won’t do (see the ’Berg).

Eliot House: 1. Where Unabomber Theodore J. Kaczynski ’62

Make friends with them early—you’ll be at their mercy for the next four years. 2. A motley crew of dining hall workers who are generally very friendly.

spent his formative years. 2. Home of the Fête, the best formal at Harvard. 3. Its clock tower has probably had a better movie career than Matt Damon.

Expos: 1. Writing class required of all first-years. 2. A class that

allows you the opportunity to beg for mercy in a cover letter, turned in with every paper.

Extension: 1. How to prolong writer’s block. 2. Harvard school

attended by Hilary Duff.

Facebook: 1. Invented by Harvard dropout Mark Zuckerberg (formerly of the Class of 2006). 2. You should definitely know what this is by now.

Felipe’s: 1. Harvard Square’s most popular late-night answer to Mexican cuisine. 2. The Spanish word for “grease pit.”

Fenway Park: 1. Home field of the World Champion Boston

Red Sox, perennial rivals of the New York Yankees. Go now—and leave your Yankees cap at home.

resembles that of a nursing home. 2. Ugly house in the Quad with plenty of party space and plenty of parties to fill them. 3. Ugly house in the Quad.

Cabot Library: 1. The purple-curtained science library, lo-

DHAs: 1. Department of Harvard Athletics. 2. Acronym present on athletes’ sweatpants and sweatshirts: “‘Deciphering the Glyphs’ was chock full of DHAs.”

Finale: 1. A dessert-and-coffee hotspot on Dunster Street. 2. The place to spot your friends on awkward first dates, or partake in a lonely (and pricey) molten chocolate cake.

cated in the Science Center. 2. A second home for anal pre-meds.

3. An interesting smell, thanks to its long history of all-night hours during reading period.

Formal: 1. What you called a prom in high school. 2. House dances you’ll be attending in the spring (or the fall, if you get asked by that cute sophomore in section!) 3. Also known collectively as “The Balls.”

Harvard Student Agencies (HSA): 1. A student-run or-

Cabot House: 1. Spacious Quad house featuring large suites and abundant singles. 2. Conveniently located next to an elementary school full of screaming kids at 8 a.m.

FM: 1. Fifteen Minutes, The Harvard Crimson’s award-winning weekend magazine. 2. Where to keep tabs on Harvard culture and see photos of your friends making out at parties.

and Feldstein heir N. Gregory “Greg” Mankiw and a legion of teaching fellows. Usually the most popular (or at least most taken) class at Harvard. 2. If you’d prefer to not offend your liberal sensibilities, take Social Analysis 72.

Final Clubs: 1. Eight endowed all-male clubs, housed in their own multi-million dollar mansions. 2. The center of some students’ social lives (mostly female first-years’), they are viewed disapprovingly by College administrators and women’s groups alike. 3. Bastions of socioeconomic elitism. 4. Generally overrated.

Currier House: 1. Ugly house in the Quad whose dining hall

term for “freshman.”

DeWolfe: 1. Conveniently located overflow housing for students First-Year: 1. What you will be in September. 2. Gender-neutral

ganization that offers laundry, microfridges (see Microfridge) and other, mostly useless, student services. 2. Monopoly.

Harvard University Dining Services (HUDS): 1.

Harvard University Police Department (HUPD):

1. Rhymes with “cup tea.” 2. They’ll keep you safe, but make sure that certain “aroma” doesn’t leak from your room. They will find it.

H-Bomb: 1. What you “drop” when revealing to others that you

attend Harvard University. Usage: “Last night was our second date and I dropped the H-Bomb. Then she dumped me.” 2. Harvard’s over-hyped, over-exposed porn magazine.

Harvard-Yale: (see The Game.)

Harvard-Yale Race: 1. The oldest intercollegiate sporting event in the country. 2. Multi-mile crew race held annually on the Thames river in New London, Conn., in which the ever-dominant Harvard crew embarrasses its Eli counterparts.

Head of the Charles: 1. Weekend in October devoted to a massive crew race. 2. When college and prep-school students descend on Cambridge to get drunk. 3. When your roommates will invite total strangers to drink, party, and pass out in your room. 4. A good weekend (October 17-18 this year) to skip town.

Hemenway: 1. A gym near the Science Center and the Law

School. 2. Where students go to fight hyper 2Ls for elliptical access.

Avoid it around dinner time. 3. Why you should go the MAC (see the MAC).

Hilles Library: 1. Former home of the Quad Library, a sterile, brightly-lit study space that used to have very few books, and now has none. 2. What’s first to go when Harvard faces a budget crisis.

YARDFEST 1

2 CRIMSON FILE PHOTO DAVID I. FULTON-HOWARD - CRIMSON PHOTOGRAPHER

3 1

XINRAN YUAN - CRIMSON PHOTOGRAPHER

A worker holds an umbrella over Stephan Jenkins of Third Eye Blind. Despite the weather, Harvard students filled Tercentenary Theatre to see the group perform during Yardfest 2007.

2

Sara Bareilles performs for a full audience during Yardfest 2009. The pop singer headlined the event along with electronic group Ratatat.

3

An energized audience dances as a member of the Wu-Tang Clan performs during Yardfest 2008.

THE HARVARD CRIMSON

AUGUST 27, 2009

PAGE 11

To Get Through Your Life at Harvard Hookup: 1. A blanket term for a variety of sex acts, often devoid of emotional attachment, usually following a boozed-up grind in a sweat pit of a party. Have fun with these!

Independent (“The Indy”): 1. The (allegedly) weekly

publication to read if you get uncomfortably excited about old news.

Interhouse Restrictions: 1. Rules that are supposed to

prevent you from eating in many house dining halls. 2. What you avoid when you sneak through the back door of Adams Dining Hall.

Institute of Politics (IOP): 1. Hangout of would-be fu-

ture presidents; some will actually be president one day.

Intramural crew: 1. The sport of participants who wake

up when everyone else is going to sleep. 2. Legitimate excuse for making a general mockery of your senior spring coursework (see Extension).

few unlucky freshmen. Prepare yourself for quiet evenings alone.

Mather House: 1. The riot-proof monstrosity designed by The Queen’s Head: 1. Short for The Cambridge Queen’s a prison architect, housing a delusionally-spirited student population. They wear head-bands. 2. The box Dunster came in.

Microfridge: 1. Refrigerator-microwave combo rented out

by HSA to sucker first-years who have no hope of either keeping their food cold or heating anything up within three hours. 2.

It’s sometimes cheaper to purchase one than to rent from HSA.

MIT: 1. Vocational-technical school a mile down Mass. Ave. 2.

Where you can enroll in trade school courses (e.g., accounting for civil engineers, organometallic chemistry, etc.) that Harvard doesn’t offer. 3. Where you go if you want to join ROTC, but don’t tell any campus uber-liberals. Do tell The Salient (see The Salient).

The Kong: 1. The Hong Kong restaurant on Mass. Ave. Heav-

en for those who love bar fights and MSG. 2. The source of that pain in your stomach the morning after the night you can’t remember (See Scorpion Bowl.)

Lamont Library: 1. The most social place to study, Lamont

offers comfy chairs and textbooks 24/5 on reserve for all those readings you missed. Too bad no studying will ever occur here.

2. Home of Lamont Cafe, which is almost like a student center, but not really.

Lampoon: 1. A semi-secret Sorrento Square social organiza-

tion that used to occasionally publish a so-called humor magazine. 2. Gang of emaciated white males who amuse themselves writing penis jokes and starting fires inside their castle. 3. Campus virgin support center.

Head Pub, the surprisingly not-awful drinking hole under Annenberg complete with three-dollar draughts, tasty snacks, and a lot of old Harvardian stuff on the wall that no one, least of all the staff, really understands.

pizza and cramped dining. 2. Rhymes with “blokes,” not “box.”

sors that you will never take advantage of but should. 2. Your TF will occasionally hold these as well, allowing your peers to kiss up for better grades.

semester’s worth of text and write four 30-page papers. 2. Best time of the year to party and sleep in, unless you have introductory language courses, which continue to meet.

Republican: 1. Rare political species targeted for extinction by the dominant, “open-minded” liberal populace which rules the Yard roost. Watch them as they graze.

PAF: 1. Peer Advising Fellow. 2. A socially conscious upperclassman who donates his or her time to hosting weekly study breaks and offering tame advice to first-years. 3. Probably a better source of academic advice than your official advisor (see Advising).

Salient: 1. Ultraconservative fortnightly (their word!) publication, descended ideologically from the people who prosecuted Galileo.

Pforzheimer House:

behind Annenberg. 2. Where you will occasionally attend Ec 10 lectures, speeches, and concerts. And nap. 3. Where a capella groups subject you to three-hour-plus concerts. Anyone, anyone?

Longwood: 1. Boston neighborhood home to Harvard Medical School and the Museum of Fine Arts. 2. Where swine flu infiltrated Harvard; the Dental School will never be the same.

3. A half-hour’s ride away on the free M2 bus. 4. What you will curse when you realize the one book you really need is at Countway Library.

Proctor: 1. Friendly graduate student who dispenses milk, Sections: 1. Weekly meeting with graduate students of vary-

1. Trademark Kong drink. 2. The reason you wake up sprawled topless on the Matthews steps with “BONER CITY” Sharpied on your back. 3. It always seems like a good idea at the time.

cookies, and advice to first-years during the week. 2. Unfriendly graduate student who combats personal sexual frustration by terrorizing freshman parties during weekends.

ing teaching abilities and intelligence (see TF). 2. Meant to complement courses taught by big-name professors too busy to teach the important details that will appear on the final.

Punch: 1. Process by which sophomores and juniors are selected by final clubs (see Final Club). 2. The drink served at final clubs to unsuspecting freshmen. 3. A delicious fruity drink served at other times.

Seneca: 1. A final club. 2. No, wait, not a final club. 3. An allfemale social organization that is definitely not by any stretch of the imagination a final club, so don’t call us a final club, you chauvinist pig. 4. Also, they have a building. But there are no parties there—it isn’t a final club, you know!

near the River Houses that serves as a second home for many campus workout junkies.

Qdoba: 1. Chipotle’s red-headed step child. 2. Pronounced like there’s a hyphen: Q-doba.

Mass. Hall: 1. Yard building home to the offices of the University President and other central administration bureaucrats, and a

Quadded: 1. The fate of some unlucky first-years in March, sent across campus for the next three years. 2. The reason people

TF: 1. Teaching fellow. 2. Person in control of your academic fate.

UHS: 1. University Health Services. 2. Not a good place to go

when you’re healthy, some say. 3. Not a good place to go when you’re sick, others say. 4. Will most definitely ask you if you’re pregnant. Or drunk. Or both. Especially if you’re a guy.

Undergraduate Council (UC): 1. Self-important but incompetent band of campus politicos whose Sunday-night meetings provide comic relief in the pages of the Monday-morning Crimson.

2. The only readers of The Crimson’s UC coverage.

Upstairs on the Square: 1. Super swanky Harvard Square restaurant, sure to impress your lady on a date.

Vanserg: 1. Classroom building home to most Japanese, Chinese, and Korean classes, and some Ec 10 sections, if you’re unlucky. 2. Farther than the Quad.

Sanders: 1. Short for Sanders Theatre, the large space tucked Walk of Shame: 1. The infamous return to your dorm after

Pre-Med: 1. A subspecies of Harvard student known for ag- Scorpion Bowl:

The MAC: 1. The Malkin Athletic Center, a spacious gym

which you can sample a variety of classes, parties, and mattresses.

Spring: 1. Traditionally March, April, and May. 2. Doesn’t exist at Harvard, where temperatures jump directly from “Inside the Arctic Circle” to “Inside Of Your Mouth.”

1. The remnants of a former women’s college in Cambridge, it now claims just a few women’s sports teams—referred to as the “Black and White,” not the “Crimson”—and an “Institute for Advanced Study” to its name.

Leverett House: 1. Home to the famous 80s dance. 2. The only house where students have to cross the street to get to their own dining hall. 3. The mascot is a bunny. C’mon, a bunny?

Lowell House: 1. Lacking in views and space, Lowell House residents pay a severe price for that quaint “Harvard” look. 2.

They have some important bells, or something.

Shopping Period: 1. The first week of each semester, during

Radcliffe:

cause of its (formerly) open access dining hall. 2. Convenient location, loud parties, hideous architecture. 3. Great late-night grille. 4. Home of the pimpest Masters’ Residence ever.

Residential Tutors: 1. “Proctors” for upper class students (see Proctor). 2. Graduate students who get free food and housing under the guise of being “upperclass resources” (and often they are).

gressive, competitive behavior. 2. A frequenter of Cabot Library who goes into fits when organic chemistry notes are misplaced.

3. You will never see these students out at a party.

own room while your roommate engages in sex acts with his or her (in)significant other.

Shuttle: 1. A bus to and from the Quad and Mather. 2. The vehicle you will chase and miss at 3:44 a.m. even though it’s supposed to leave at 3:45a.m. 3. No longer provides late-night service to the Quad. Wait, it still does. Does it?

Opening Days: 1. The first few days you’re on campus, when you’ll meet hundreds of your new classmates and promptly forget their names as soon as classes begin. 2. Generally known as “Camp Harvard.” Don’t be fooled: Harvard is not this fun. 3.

Lots of ice cream, lots of stern warnings, lots more ice cream.

1. A nice place to visit, but you wouldn’t want to walk there. 2. Home to the Bell Tower and other good party spots that you will drunkenly make your way to and from during freshman year.

Sexile: 1. The state of being temporarily kicked out of your

Quincy House: 1. Nicknamed “The People’s House” be-

Noch’s: 1. Pinocchio’s, a great place for a midnight slice of Reading Period: 1. Amount of time you have to read a

Kirkland House: 1. Small house that hosts the annual Office hours: 1. The chance to interact with famous profes-

Incest Fest.

use Room 13. 3. Get a bike, get a drink.

Sex: 1. Something you will have a lot of at Harvard, with very attractive people. For real, I swear. 2. Not a determinant of scientific intelligence. 3. Intercourse (only at Harvard is this #3).

a passionate night in some guy’s Mather single, stomach heavy with drink and regret, and, if you’re unlucky, a newly fertilized egg. 2. Particularly hilarious for seniors leaving the Yard in the wee hours of Sunday morning.

Widener Library: 1. Titanic library built in memory of a Titanic drowning victim. 2. Home to the stacks, where students go to pour over books. Yup, nothing but readin’ in these stacks.

Winthrop House: 1. Inhabited by generations of Kennedys. 2. A breach in the space-time continuum where bedrooms can actually be smaller than Harvard-issued beds.

The Women’s Center: 1. The College’s home to resources for people of all genders. 2. Even money says the Salient hates pretty much every part of the above sentence.

Yale:

1. School spirit? Check! Deep-seated inferiority complex? Of course not! Who told you that? BOOLAH-BOOLAH DANNY BOY!

Z: 1. Name of the list of students required by Admissions to defer for a year—not quite good enough for this year’s class, but just great for the next one. Made up overwhelmingly of legacies.

AN OPEN LETTER TO CRIMSON READERS The Harvard Crimson is proud to celebrate its 136th year as the independent, student-run newspaper of the Harvard community. If you have any questions or concern, feel free to call us at 617–576–6565. And if you’re interested in joining our staff, please e-mail President Maxwell L. Child (mchild@fas.harvard.edu).

How do I get the Crimson?

The Crimson is distributed free to all undergraduates who live on campus. If you do not receive your Crimson, please let our circulation department know by logging a complaint at 617–576–6600.

How can I submit a story idea?

The best way to reach us is generally by e-mail. If you know of breaking news or have a story idea, call us at 617–576–6565. If you’re involved with a student group that is holding an event you’d like us to cover, we recommend you send an e-mail to news@thecrimson.com several days before the event. You might also consider reminding us of the event on the day it will occur by sending us another e-mail. Each day’s assignment editor—called the dayslotter—checks the news@thecrimson.com account regularly.

If you’d prefer to speak to someone about an event or story idea for the daily paper, please call us. If you’re calling the day of the event, ask to speak to the dayslotter, who will be assigning stories and should be able to let you know what the chances are that we will cover the event.

Please email story ideas for our Arts sections to Arts Chairs Joshua J. Kearney (kearney@ fas.harvard.edu) and Beryl C. D. Lipton (blipton@fas.harvard.edu). If you have a suggestion for our weekly magazine, Fifteen Minutes, drop an e-mail to fm@thecrimson.com. Finally, if you have a sports story you’d like to pitch, please e-mail our Sports Chairs, Loren Amor (lamor@fas.harvard.edu) and Dixon McPhillips (fmcphill@fas.harvard.edu).

How does The Crimson decide what to cover?

Given the choice, we would cover many more events than we do. Unfortunately, as a volunteer student organization, we do not have enough staff reporters to cover every campus event. As a result, we are sometimes forced to make tough choices about what to cover. When we find ourselves in a situation where we are short-handed, we try to cover stories that will appeal to the widest group of readers. We are also influenced by logistical issues, like whether we can find a reporter at the time of a given event.

Aside from news stories, what are other ways to communicate through The Crimson?

We encourage you to submit letters to the editor and op-ed pieces to our editorial page.

Letters to the editor are usually brief (200 to 300 words) and must respond directly to content that has been previously published in The Crimson. The best way to submit a letter to

the editor is to e-mail letters@thecrimson.com. Op-ed pieces are generally 700 to 900 words and can address a wide range of issues that might be of interest to the community. Op-eds cannot simply be long letters to the editor; they must address some larger issue rather than simply respond to previously published content. Both types of pieces must be signed by the author(s) to be published. Questions about letters and op-ed pieces should be directed to Editorial Chairs Daniel E. Herz-Roiphe (dherz@fas.harvard.edu) and James M. Wilsterman (jwilster@fas.harvard.edu).

How will I know if I’m talking to a Crimson reporter? Will he or she print what I say?

When a Crimson reporter calls you to speak about an event, he or she will identify himself or herself as a Crimson reporter.

Unless the reporter is working on a story, his or her piece will almost certainly run in the next day’s paper. As a result, we appreciate your help in getting back to us for a news story as soon as you get the call so that your comment can be included in a story. Deadlines vary, but most news pieces are finished around 8 p.m. and some are finished even earlier.

If a reporter has identified himself or herself, the rest of an interview is considered on the record. Once you’ve said something, you cannot later take it back and put it off-the-record.

What should I do if The Crimson makes a mistake in a story?

In the event that we run something that is factually inaccurate, we are eager to correct the error. When a correction is necessary, it will run in a corrections box on page two. Please e-mail Managing Editor Clifford M. Marks (cmarks@fas.harvard.edu) or call 617–576–6565 about corrections.

If the mistake is on the editorial page, please e-mail Editorial Chairs Daniel E. Herz-Roiphe (dherz@fas.harvard.edu) and James M. Wilsterman (jwilster@fas.harvard.edu).

What should I do if I have an opinion about something in a Crimson article?

If you agree or disagree with an opinion expressed in a Crimson article or with the way our coverage of an event was handled, you have several options. First, you might consider writing a letter to the editor or writing an op-ed piece (see left).

If you feel our coverage was mishandled, you might also consider contacting the reporter to share your thoughts. If you wish, you can also express your concerns to President Maxwell L. Child (mchild@fas.harvard.edu) or Managing Editor Clifford M. Marks (cmarks@fas.harvard.edu).

THE HARVARD CRIMSON

PAGE 12

AUGUST 27, 2009

Life at Harvard Can Extend Outside the Gates of the Yard A number of hot spots are just a short walk or T ride away from Harvard Square

By BRITTNEY L. MORASKI CRIMSON STAFF WRITER

While there’s enough to do at Harvard to never require one to leave the Yard or the Houses, freshmen who venture beyond Mount Auburn or Prescott St. will be pleasantly surprised to discover that there’s more to Cambridge than the Pit, the Charles, or Cambridge Common.

Here are some one-hour breaks firstyears can enjoy:

CENTRAL SQUARE No, Central is not just the T stop before Harvard. The area is home to City Hall (where the first legalized same-sex marriages in the country took place), ethnic restaurants, all kinds of colorful Cantabridgians, and fast food (McDonald’s and Wendy’s, specifically). Grittier than Harvard Square, Central feels like a city’s downtown (but with shorter buildings).

To get to Central, walk down Mass.

Ave past Widener and Lamont libraries.

In about 10 minutes, you’ll be at Central, where you can rent a movie from Blockbuster, get a Big Mac, or just enjoy Cambridge from the perspective of famous former residents Ben Affleck and Matt Damon (a Harvard drop-out).

PORTER SQUARE If you walk down Mass. Ave in the opposite direction from Central (past the Law School) you’ll end up in Porter Square in about ten minutes. Along the way, you’ll pass restaurants, bars, and the campus of Lesley College. Your final destination should

be Shaw’s—a real, non-CVS, grocery store—and Porter Square Books, an independent bookstore with its own coffee bar. Stock up on your favorite foods— for students should not live on HUDS alone—and enjoy an iced coffee on the walk back.

INMAN SQUARE Props to the first-year who heads over to Inman, as the fact that it doesn’t feature a T stop makes it a little more obscure in comparison to Central and Porter. But getting there is just as easy as the other squares—simply walk past the Science Center down Cambridge St. Along the way, you’ll pass Cambridge Rindge and Latin School and

Darwin’s Ltd., a great place to study and eat. Keep walking, and you’ll reach Inman’s Indian highway-style cafe, Punjabi Dhaba, along with Rosie’s Bakery and S&S Deli.

If Lamont’s starting to feel claustrophobic, take your books with you and spend some time studying at the cozy 1369 Coffee House (which also has a shop in Central). And if hungry friends accompany you on your walk, definitely stop at Christina’s, well-known for its ice cream.

Line (and not far from the MIT/Kendall Square stop on the Red Line). The Galleria has over 120 stores, including an Apple Store (which offers in-store service), J. Crew, Old Navy, H&M, Express, and Victoria’s Secret, making the Galleria a one-stop shop for fashion on a budget.

You and your roommates can get to it by taking the 69 bus from Johnston Gate to Lechmere. The mall is across the street from the station. (You can also take a quick shuttle from the Kendall stop on the Red Line.)

BRATTLE STREET

PRUDENTIAL CENTER

A walk down Brattle will lead you to the historic mansions of Cambridge, including the home of former Harvard professor Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Take this walk when you need a reminder of why you’re working so hard in your classes—pure intellectual curiosity should motivate most of your hard work, but the possibility of one day living in a mansion like those on Brattle can be encouraging as well.

If you want to make a full day of shopping, the “E” Green Line train leaves from Lechmere and will bring you to the Prudential Center in nine stops. (Otherwise, you can get to Prudential by transferring to the E train at Park Street.) The “Pru,” as it’s called by locals, bills itself as the best shopping destination in New England, and it caters to the high-end: Saks Fifth Avenue, Sephora, and Lacoste are all located under the skylights of the complex.

Connected to the Prudential Center is Copley, where you can splurge (or window-shop if you’re anything like us)

And for those with a bit more time: DAVIS SQUARE Two stops outbound on the T’s Red Line will bring you to Davis Square in Somerville, a less-gentrified version of Harvard Square.

Cafés such as the Blue Shirt Café offer wraps and smoothies, and the Someday Café and Diesel Café are havens for writers and bookworms. The usedbookstore McIntyre & Moore Booksellers has an eclectic (and mostly scholarly) selection of titles.

CAMBRIDGESIDE GALLERIA When your budget prevents you from spending any more money at Jasmine Sola or your laptop gives you a headache, head over to Cambridgeside Galleria, located right next to the Lechmere T stop on the Green

at stores such that include Louis Vuitton, Coach, Neiman Marcus, and Armani Exchange.

Take a Saturday or Sunday afternoon to enjoy the Museum of Fine Arts—free if you bring your Harvard ID—and the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. The MFA has a Impressionist room that anyone—art aficionado or not—will love, and it has an impressive enough collection that you will walk through the museum and recognize work from your AP Art History class or Literature and Arts Core.

The Gardner Museum is located in the former home of Isabella Stewart Gardner, an early 20th-century society woman and art collector. Because she stipulated in her will that the permanent collection of the museum not be altered, empty frames stand where three Rembrandts and a Vermeer were stolen during a high-profile 1990 heist. You can get to these museums by taking the Green Line E train to the Museum of Fine Arts stop.

Located in the upscale suburb of Brookline, Coolidge Corner is home to an independent movie theatre, the Harvard Book Store-esque Brookline Booksmith, and restaurants and delis including Zaftigs, a Jewish deli perfect for Sunday brunch. Walking around Brookline is like walking around Harvard Square, sans the garbage and noise that gives the Square its character and headaches.

Take the “C” Green Line train to Coolidge Corner to experience what Harvard would be like without the Pit or the Chinese guy who plays outside of the Coop every night.

Cambridge (and by extension, Boston and its environs) is a great place to get to call home for four years, and you will shortchange your experience if you stay within the Harvard bubble. In the time it takes to upload pictures of the Yard to Facebook, you and your roommates could bond over sorbet at Christina’s or head out on adventure in downtown Boston. Because, let’s be honest: if you’re going to procrastinate, you might as well get lost.

COOLIDGE CORNER

—Staff writer Brittney L. Moraski can be reached at bmoraski09@post.harvard.edu.

MFA AND GARDNER MUSEUMS

THE HARVARD CRIMSON

AUGUST 27, 2009

Surviving Fickle Roommates

By KRISTINA M. MOORE CRIMSON STAFF WRITER

My freshman dorm room in Canaday was the least racially, culturally or ethnically diverse in our entryway, and arguably one of the least on campus.

We were five white, liberal girls from the geographical areas most represented at Harvard—California, New York, New Jersey and D.C. Despite this lack of regional, political or racial uniqueness, my roommates and I had profound differences in lifestyle—so much so that, midway through first semester, it became necessary for the Freshman Dean’s Office (FDO) to intervene and for one of us to move across campus.

As an eager first-year, this is probably the last story you want to hear as you look forward to meeting the people with whom you’ll spend the next nine months. However, my roommate experience has, in retrospect, provided a perspective worth sharing on conflict resolution, navigating the FDO, and handling the unique problems posed by living with complete strangers.

My superficially similar quintet was actually full of quirks and idiosyncrasies that could be endearing, annoying, or both at the same time. Within the first two hours of meeting one of my roommates, she was measuring out contact paper with which to line her dressers, because they were too dirty for her refined taste. Conversely, another of my roommates would leave piles of clothes in the common room, forget to do laundry for weeks, and then, rather than actually going to a washing machine, simply go sans underwear. I love them both regardless.

One of the most important concepts to accept early in your dorm life is the difference between irritating and inhospitable behavior. Different standards of cleanliness can cause eye-rolling and passive aggressive notes left on the white board; living habits that take a toll on your well-being can cause major emotional distress if left unaddressed.

Not far into the fall semester, our

room had become an unbearably tense atmosphere of tears, public fights, sleepless nights, and slammed doors that left no one happy. I cannot begin to describe the issues the five of us personally had, nor would it be helpful at this point. At the most basic level, the conflict was a four-against-one situation regarding the quiet hours of our room and the schedules that we kept, only exacerbated by ancillary emotions surrounding the transition to college.

The problems became so difficult to handle largely because no one was to blame and no one thing was wrong: no one was trying to be hurtful or cruel; we just had different work habits and

One of the most important concepts to accept early in your dorm life is the difference between irritating and inhospitable behavior. expectations. For a month we tried to compromise and tiptoe around the issues. Our rooming conflicts, however, began to affect profoundly the ability of our struggling roommate to work, sleep and coexist with the other four of us. Five young women who should have been friends barely spoke, rarely brought friends over, and could not feel at home in their own room.

We launched into mediation sessions with our proctor to discuss how to make our room work. It didn’t take long for us to learn that proctors are not infallible advisors. They are for the most part very nice graduate students who are too busy to effectively pair problems with solutions.

The only positive that emerged from these awkward conversations was the realization that honesty really is the best policy. Even though being candid was hurtful for all five of us—and particu-

larly for the roommate at the center of the drama—it allowed us to recognize that our differences were irreconcilable.

We became unified in our frustration that our proctor was not acting fast enough, and took our situation to the FDO ourselves.

As clichéd as it may sound, if you are struggling with academics, social or living issues, cultivating a relationship with your freshman dean can be extremely beneficial. The Harvard administration gets a bad reputation for being mired in red tape and bureaucracy and not actually caring about students; however, we found our Dean absolutely committed to mediating our issues, balancing our options, and treating us like adults.

Despite the difficulty of the process and the hard decisions she had to make, one of the defining elements of my roommate’s freshman year was her close and positive relationship with her dean. No one will check in on you or give unsought advice, but if you are willing to be active and vocal, Harvard can provide a wealth of resources to get you through the possible pitfalls of freshman year.

My roommate did move to a single in another dorm, but ultimately took the spring semester off, largely because of the loneliness of the single. Privacy and quiet may appeal to you during intense conflicts, but moving out may also cause more harm than good. Consider carefully what the heart of your problem is, what outcome you really want, and how to best achieve this end.

It is impossible to say how we would have all fared if we had stayed together. All we can be certain of is that we did our best to be constructive and thoughtful. No matter how frustrated you become or how weird you think your roommates are, these are the people whose support you’ll need to handle the emotional complexities of living in a new place. Virtually every problem has a solution; use the bright young minds surrounding you to discover it.

—Staff writer Kristina M. Moore can be reached at moore2@post.harvard.edu.

The Harvard Crimson ONLINE EDITION

Roommate got your Crimson? Try this version.

http://www.thecrimson.com

PAGE 13

THE HARVARD CRIMSON

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AUGUST 27, 2009

Your Daily Dose of Fat, Sugar, and Excessive Carbs CHEAP FOOD from Page 1 square slices of pizza to inebriated college students for decades. Tomato basil and pepperoni are popular, classic choices, and the subs are a stealthily good option for a lunchtime meal.

Until a few years ago, Nochs’ reputation was such that it held a near monopoly on speedy and inexpensive slices in the Square. Competition is always good, though, right?

The Upper Crust lives up to its name with tasty ultra-thin and massively wide slices. You’ll balk at the $3+ cost per slice, until you see one. Let’s just say four of them would probably make a very goodsized pizza.

This award-winning chain is picking up steam across the Boston area, and for good reason. The ever-rotating slice of the day provides nice variety from the standard cheese and pepperoni, and you can get full pizzas delivered in case you’re concerned you might burn off a hundredth of the calories in your meal on the walk over.

Oggi is another entrant in the thincrust category. It’s basically the Qdoba to the Upper Crust’s Chipotle—not quite as good (but good enough), and closer.

You won’t go wrong eating here, but it won’t blow anyone out of the water.

Cambridge 1 is probably the best first-date restaurant in the Square, and it serves a mean thin-crust pizza to boot.

It won’t break the bank despite its gourmet, fairly healthy toppings (arugula, grilled steak, black forest ham), and it has that perfect fancy-but-not-too-fancy ambiance.

The grilled chicken and lobster are particular favorites, and you can share two half-pizzas with a lucky lady. If you landed a dinner date with that section girl, go here. Trust us.

at the Kong is an essential decision to be made early freshman year, as you will likely stick with it for years (and perhaps decades) to come.

Scallion pancakes, crab rangoon, and egg rolls are popular “smaller” dishes, but those who play to win go for one of the massive combination plates. Options include the sesame chicken, orange chicken, and chicken finger combos.

You’re not really a pro until you know the number of your order at the Kong, and can recite it coherently in slurred speech. An unfriendly visit to the Kong bathroom—often brought on by the lethal “Scorpion Bowl” brew—is a Harvard rite of passage more sacred than sex in Widener or getting tooled in Expos.

sophical sense, but we take issue with the froyo in the Square. It doesn’t quite restaurant’s misuse of the word. stand up to the nuanced taste of the Assumedly, it’s referring to the dishes’ major chains’ product (it’s a little creamhealthy ingredients, which are admit- ier and less tart), but it is a worthwhile tedly a good selling replacement. The point. The menu rotating flavors of “However, the most used to show calothe week are often rie counts for each diversion egregious offense against the athat,nice dish, and they along with the were impressively word “real” is its use in the buy-10-get-onelow for burgfree cards, keep the ers (under 500 coming phrase “real fries,” which regulars in many cases). back.

An outgrowth of J.P. Licks is a are “hand-cut, oven-baked... popular this fact, unfortuBoston nately, is that the creamery that never fried!” So wait—these recently expanded burgers taste worse than most. You get the Square. are not fried...and not really into what you pay for.

Its ultra-prime However, the location on Mass fried...what are we missing Ave. across from most egregious offense against Wigglesworth will here?” the word “real” make you lust after is its use in it every time you the phrase “real fries,” which are pass by. And with good reason—the ice “hand-cut, oven-baked...never cream is pretty tasty. We like the more fried!” So wait—these are not inventive flavors like “maple buttah fried...and not really fried...what are walnut” and “Oreo cookie dough.” The we missing here? founders clearly know how to make treB.Good may not be “real” or “fast,” mendously unhealthy and intoxicatingly but it is, in fact, food. So you will prob- delicious ice cream. ably go at some point.

Herrell’s is one of those “quirky,” old-school Cambridge spots whose demise visitors will frequently lament THE CAPSTONE— on their way to J.P. Licks. It’s pretty ICE CREAM AND ASSOCIATED TREATS good, but probably not good enough to If you somehow feel stave off the bulldozer of capitalist progthe need to put away ress that is the Licks franchise. Creative even more food destruction, we guess.

Our final ice cream vendor is known after a big dinner, Cambridge is full to the locals as “Ben and Jerry’s.” You may have heard of it. So yeah, it basically of sweet delights.

Berryline, as has all the flavors sold at your local groyou might guess cery story, except a cup costs $5, and a from the name, pint costs $6. What?

Don’t go to Ben and Jerry’s—it’s a is a Pinkberry knockoff that tourist trap. Go to the 7-Eleven approxihas cor- mately 50 feet away and pay less money nered the for a larger quantity of the exact same THE CRIMSON’S CHEAP FOOD PYRAMID m a r k e t ice cream. Shams like this place make us A heaping base of burritos slathered with pizza, loaded with f o r wonder whether consumers are as infalChinese food from the Kong and a formidable servings of burgers. l o w - libly rational as Ec 10 doctrine likes to All topped with a liberal serving of sweets. c a l suggest.

Bon appetit, new Square eater.

sumption of the average undergraduate?

They’re just a bit too expensive ($9-$10, usually) and visits take a bit too long (45 minutes, at least). Most of the time you’ll be on the go and won’t want to drop that much money or time.

Grab Bartley’s when you get the chance, though, as the burgers are iconic.

Flat Patties is a quick, cheap (less than $4), and very greasy burger. It’s generally overlooked as a food

FOURTH LAYER—BURGERS Burgers, while popular with tourists and wide-eyed high-school visitors, will probably comprise less of your diet than they did at home (especially if you come from In-N-Out country).

Mr. Bartley’s Gourmet Burgers, a renowned Square institution, has an extensive and very good menu of highquality burgers named after politicians, professors, and other notables. Make no mistake, these are tasty burgers— we like the simple “Mitt Romney” with cheese and grilled onions, but there are options to suit any fancy. The frappes, fries, and onion rings are similarly scrumptious.

So why does Bar tley’s not play that big a role in the con-

THE HEART—THE KONG The Hong Kong Restaurant is the only eatery to get its own layer, and with good reason. Harvard’s social scene practically mandates weekly 2 a.m. Kong visits, and you will probably go here more than most of the restaurants on this list—combined. Picking “your dish”

option, without reason, and should be considered strongly if you’ve got that deep cheeseburger craving.

B.Good bills itself as “real.food. fast” but only fulfills onethird of this promise.

It’s certainly not fast—one can easily order, pick up a Starbucks across the street, come back, and still wait a while for the food.

And it may in fact be “real” in a philo-

—Staff writer Maxwell L. Child can be reached at mchild@fas.harvard.edu.

Classy Eating in the Square: Tapas, Thai, Foie Gras, and Clam Chowder

By LINGBO LI and AMY SUN CRIMSON STAFF WRITERS

RIALTO Parents in town? Relationship milestone? Rialto is a tried-and-true destination that is classy without being stuffy.

Here, Chef Jody Adams does “regional Italian cuisine interpreted with New England ingredients” (read: delicious), which means you might be noshing on slow-roasted duck with braised escarole or spicy fish antipasti. If you still want to impress the cute girl in section without spending all of your allowance money, see if she’ll go for the $1 oysters on Monday. Remember, they’re supposed to be an aphrodisiac.

Three course fixed price menu: $40

HARVEST RESTAURANT Now that you’re in Boston, you might be wondering what New England food is, beyond the baked beans, clam chowdah,

and Felipe’s burritos that will help pack on the promised Freshman 15. Harvest is not too well-known among students, but with its seasonal produce and locally caught seafood (Halibut fished from the Atlantic, oysters from Duxbury, MA), this restaurant will serve as a great introduction to fine dining.

SMALL PLATES Also not well-known to students are the tapas at Small Plates, which aren’t limited to the Spanish variety. Tapas are essentially like appetizers—smaller portions of food, running between $5 and $11, and meant to be shared. It’s a fun option and a bit cheaper than other more expensive Square outlets, and also perfect for a lower pressure date or a nice dinner with the BFF. Keep in mind that tables are a bit close together so it’s not the best for private conversations. (Stick to your dorm room for those.) They also refuse to serve bottled water, which is

sure to impress the environmentally conscious among you.

SANDRINE’S Fun fact: Chef Raymond Ost was recently knighted by the French government into the Order of the Mérite Agricole. What does this mean for you? Nothing really, except if you’re looking for fine French dining in the Square. In that case, this is it, enfants. Salade Niçoise, escargot, foie gras, and all the yummy trappings of a gap year in Paris—except for that fling with Jean-Claude.

3 course fixed price menu: $40

SPICE THAI CUISINE This is owned by the same folks that brought you 9 Tastes on JFK street. Spice has a nicer ambiance since it’s above ground, and the food is attractive, tasty, and reasonably priced (the beloved Pad Thai is only $10). It’s a good spot to have dinner with friends on a Friday night and

will satisfy all your curry needs.

TAKEMURA Tasty, tasty sushi. If you’re looking to get your daily dose of sashimi, Takemura is a Square stalwart that doesn’t disappoint.

Dragon rolls, spider rolls, and all the usual suspects make their appearance on a menu filled with fresh, reasonably-priced goodies.

WAGAMAMA Wagamama is a pan-Asian chain, birthed out of London, with cafeteriastyle seating and food served as it’s cooked. This also might mean that you’re slurping on your noodle bowl before your friend is even seated next to you.

Don’t put it too high on your to-do list— while it’s fine for grabbing a casual meal with a friend, it also smacks uncomfortably of dining hall food.

VEGGIE PLANET Whatever you do, ignore the name.

Just concentrate on the delicious flatbread pizzas that make excellent use of ingredients like butternut squash, goat cheese, Portabello mushrooms, and peanut curries. You can also opt to have toppings put on rice, rather than a pizza.

A signature favorite is their “Lunch/Dinner for Henry,” which features butternut squash, goat cheese, and caramelized onions. If you’re into salad pizzas, their Caesar on a Big Cheesy Crouton is a treat that uses homemade dressing and fried tofu instead of croutons. Portions are big, so no matter what connotations the word “veggie” might have, don’t worry— you’ll leave happy.

CREMA CAFÉ It’s the kind of cafe that makes you linger and want to do coursepack reading while enjoying a latte and a sublime, delicious grilled sandwich. (Try their Crema grilled chicken with avocado and corn, or their sweet potato sandwich.)

Great baked goods and solid soups make it a favorite lunch spot, and the golden ambiance means it’s a popular option for both friendly and romantic rendezvous, if you want to take the let’s-grab-coffeeto-test-the-waters route.

FIRE AND ICE Go with a large group of friends on a Monday night, when the price of an all-you-can-eat meal hovers a buck or few north of $10. Decide on your bowl of raw ingredients, choose a sauce, and the grill employees will cook them right in front of your eyes. For those with food allergies, there’s a special grill in the back, but part of the fun is noticing how there’s that stray head of broccoli from another diner’s creation. Not quality food by any (and we really mean any) stretch of the imagination, but it’s kind of fun.

—Staff writer Lingbo Li can be reached at lingboli@fas.harvard.edu.

Getting Around Annenberg Avoid eating after large lectures, go trayless, and sample the upperclass d-halls

By MOLLY M. STRAUSS CRIMSON STAFF WRITER

BRENDA H. LIN—CRIMSON PHOTOGRAPHER

It’s iconic, it bears a striking resemblance to Hogwarts’ Great Hall, and it turns away families of curious Swedish tourists at the door. Annenberg—Harvard’s famous freshmen dining hall— will be your culinary home from August through May, and since the transition from your cozy family dinner room to a 9,000 square foot church-like structure (complete with sculptures and stained glass windows) can take some getting used to, just getting fed here at Harvard might seem overwhelming at first. Hopefully, these sage words of wisdom will help.

Depending on the hour during which you choose to chow down, the ’Berg might be calm, quiet and nearly empty.

But, more often then not, the towering edifice seems to house all of Massachusetts, as your screaming classmates frantically hoard chickwiches and attempt to make friends.

To avoid the chaos and long lines, it’s important to strategize: Find out when the big, intro lecture courses end in Sanders Theater next door (specifically: Ec 10, and Life Sci 1A), and don’t touch Annenberg with a 10-foot-pole for the following half-hour. Arriving at meals seven minutes before the dining hall closes also works well, though if you tend to run late, this can lead to missed dinners, perpetual hunger, and multiple trips to ‘Nochs for pizza.

Before your time, a legend guarded

the gates to Annenberg. Domna was her name, and she grew famous over her nearly 22 years at Harvard for accosting poor individuals who forgot to bring their ID cards. She retired this summer, and so—alas—we can give you no advice about the new Annenberg card checker.

She (or he) might be friendly and kind to those who misplace their swipes. But you shouldn’t risk it.

Inevitably, as your fellow first-years adjust to frenetic crowds and large, green trays, someone will bump into somebody else. This can result in a a simple orange juice spill or an entire, five-course meal

For the socially ballsy, Annenberg provides a chance to broaden your net wider than just your freshmen roommates.

Take it. dumped on the ground. Probably, someone will laugh, and there might even be a chorus of slow claps. Needless to say, you don’t want this to be you—though, if it happens, it’s not the end of the world.

The key to avoiding such mishaps?

Trayless dining: With a plate in one hand and a drink in the other, you’re free to maneuver between clumsy tray-holders with ease. And once you’ve loaded up on food, try doing a tap dance in the servery to test your balancing skills.

Undoubtedly, you’ll hear from upperclassmen that House food beats the ’Berg, no contest. And it’s true. While the

menus are the same, it’s easier to prepare quality dishes for three hundred than it is to do the same for 1000 plus. While Dunster and Currier Houses reputedly serve the best cuisine, walking there might be a hassle you’re not willing to endure. And here comes the bane of your existence: upperclass House dining hall restrictions.

Adams House—the worst offender—will turn you away at the door, no questions asked, simply for being a freshman (the exception: if you come with an Adams resident).

So, what to do? Try Quincy House, which is nearly as close and far more welcoming. Or, if you’re really brave, waltz into Adams dining hall as though you’re just finding a seat to work, and then sneak in the back servery door when the swiper isn’t looking.

For the first two months of college, many eager freshmen will want to meet their fellow Harvardians. As a result, the ’Berg becomes a sea of introductions. Don’t be surprised when a beaming guy you’ve never seen before plops down across from you and chants: “Hi! My name is Adam! I’m from Denver, Colorado! I live in Canaday D!” While it might seem trite, take advantage of these early weeks to meet and greet, and welcome those who do the same. Yes, knowing someone’s prospective concentration might not mean a whole lot, but you never know when a real friendship might spark. All too soon, the stars in your eyes will fade, and you won’t be tempted to choose that empty seat next to a table full of strangers. For the socially ballsy, Annenberg provides a chance to broaden your net wider than just your freshmen roommates. Take it.

—Staff writer Molly M. Strauss can be reached at mstrauss@fas.harvard.edu.

THE HARVARD CRIMSON

AUGUST 27, 2009

PAGE 15

Freshman Week: Accepting Your Awkwardness

By SOFIA E. GROOPMAN CRIMSON STAFF WRITER

Chances are you’ve just gotten back from FOP and suddenly you realize how much you actually smell. Not having shaved your legs/face for a week is no longer rugged; it’s gross. Guess what? This is likely to be the exact moment when you meet your freshman year roommate (could this be your best friend forever?), plus the mother, the father, and the little sister (all in matching crimson-colored Harvard sweatshirts).

Freaked? Don’t worry. The Crimson’s got your back. We’ll teach you how to survive Opening Days without really trying.

The first week of college is naturally a little frightening for all those clichéd reasons: it’s the first time you’re out on your own (or at least that’s how it feels), there’s an intense pressure to make instant friends (these probably won’t be your real friends), and you’re confronted with an embarrassing array of choices (so many classes, so many clubs, so many people). Needless to say it’s all a bit overwhelming.

Freshman week can, however, be fun if you follow one golden rule at all times: Embrace the awkwardness. Accept it: You are awkward. Your new roommate is awkward. Your parents are awkward.

Even the only good-looking person in your entryway is awkward. This is Harvard—get used to the awkwardness.

Keeping this general attitude in mind, let’s get started on the particulars.

One of the first things you’ll have to do when you arrive on campus is get your ID picture taken. Try your damndest to look good for this photo because it may be the most important one of your life.

Not only do you have to take your ID with you everywhere to do anything on campus (you’ll need it to eat in the ’Berg, to get into Lamont, to enter your dormitory, to print the paper you wrote at 4 a.m. the night before it was due, and to buy questionable sushi in the Science Center), but the picture you take on August 27, the very first day of your freshman year, follows you for LIFE. You do not get to retake it during subsequent years, and should you go to graduate school at Harvard later in life (say 10 years after you graduate—we are talking 2023 here), the picture will stay the same. LOOK GOOD IN THIS PHOTOGRAPH. But if you don’t look good in the picture, console yourself with this simple fact: no one does.

After you get your photo taken, an

employee of the University will likely hand you a lanyard on which you can put your ID and room key. Don’t do this.

It’s important not to lose these items, but at the ripe age of 18, one should be able to do so without the help of a collar.

In general, the first day is a bit confusing. You’ll be bombarded with a largely useless amount of information.

Get cracking on unpacking (you won’t want to do it later) and get to know your roommate(s). At the mandatory entryway meeting, you’ll meet the other people in your entryway, your proctor (the grad student who lives in the same building as you, serving as half baby-sitter, half adviser), and your PAF (an upperclassmen who is there to advise you).

Entryways can be great communities, perfect for friendships and dormcest, so this event is generally quite nice. (But still abounding with awkwardness.) You can go to bed in your new room with your new sheets and be proud: you have survived your very first day of college! If you’re lucky, there will be a crazy thunderstorm and you’ll actually go to bed in the Science Center after playing cards with President Drew Faust (this happened to the Class of 2012).

Your second day of freshman week will likely begin with language placement tests. Rest assured that they are indeed harder than SAT IIs (or just tell yourself that after you receive a 500 on the exam after taking 7 years of high school Spanish). Then you’ll have a mandatory lunch with your academic adviser, who might happen to be helpful, engaged, and appropriately matched to your interests—but more likely not.

Make the best of what you get, and consider scheduling a second appointment to ask

specific questions about classes and scheduling.

If your professor turns out to be unforgivably obtuse, don’t worry: you’ll probably only see him a few times the whole year anyways, when he rubber stamps your course selections.

Your second day concludes with your proctor reading you a lot of scarysounding rules about all the ways you can find your stay at Harvard dramatically cut short. In reality, most proctors are actually softies at heart. Enjoy the

dorm-wide gathering that follows—it’s probably one of the few organized social events worth going to as Harvard freshman. Entryways usually become tightly knit, but many people never get to know the other people who live in their dorm.

On Saturday, you’ll probably hang out with your new “friends” and prepare for the first chance dance (a mandatory social gathering in our eyes). While traditionally held in Annenberg, this year the dance is in the Quad, allowing you an opportunity to travel to that faroff (not really) and magical (yes, really) place. The party is loud, sweaty, crowded, exceptionally awkward, and yes, your “first chance” to “get to know” your 1,600 classmates in a slightly different setting.

Sleep in on Sunday, and then go to your very first brunch in Annenberg with your roommate(s) and bond over a Veritaffle (waffles that say “veritas” on them). This will be the first of many lazy Sunday brunches (arguably the best meal Harvard dining halls serve).

Later in the day, you’ll attend “Sex Signals,” a mandatory improvisational (comedy?) show about sex in college. It’s actually quite enjoyable and funny, but suddenly turns serious at the end with a friendly reminder that date-rape is bad.

Monday offers a couple surprisingly helpful math course info sessions, but much more important is that evening’s classic freshman week event: the Crimson Key Society’s screening of “Love Story.” It’s a sappy, depressing movie— the last ever filmed on Harvard’s campus—for which Crimson Key provides hysterical

(and ina p propriate) commentary.

On Tuesday morning, there are the mandatory “community conversations” with your entryway, during which you’ll meet with a faculty member to discuss a reading on race and class issues. (Skip Gates, anyone?) This will probably be downright painful.

That afternoon, you’ll attend the

newly-crafted Freshman Convocation ceremony, followed by a dinner and reception. The Crimson can’t offer you much advice here because, well, we’ve never taken part in it before. But it’s sure to include much pontificating on the joys of University and collegiate life.

The freshman talent show will likely be the highlight of the day, where you’ll see your brilliant and talented classmates put on the (often spectacular but occasionally bizarre) performances that’ll probably define them for the foreseeable future. We’ve seen singers, beatboxers, and even ventriloquists.

Wednesday is the first day of classes, so be sure that you’ve met with your academic advisor and your PAF to discuss your shopping list. It’s best to approach shopping week with a playful attitude. If all but two of the 15 classes on your list turn out to be duds, it’s not just some higher being relentlessly smiting freshmen—it happens to everyone, upperclassmen included.

The activities fair will probably be overwhelming, especially since you’re used to doing five extracurriculars and being internationally recognized for all of them. This will likely no longer hold true. And even though the value of resume padding has declined significantly, you’ll still unfathomably sign up for all sorts of extracurriculars that you have no actual interest in. Your environmentally conscious heart will sob at the absurd amount of (useless) fliers you receive.

We recommend that you arrive at the fair with friends, go solo or in pairs to the booths that interest you, and then meet up with your group at the subsequent BBQ. To stay sane, simply collect everything in your bag to look over (and trash) in your room later. Make sure to unsubscribe from the 50 e-mail lists you signed up for ASAP (unless the group has really good happy hours).

Spend the rest of your week relaxing and hanging out with people in the yard.

Consider checking out the a capella jam, but approach Harvard comedy events with caution. And please, don’t do too much homework.

Freshman week doesn’t completely acclimate you to Harvard—you can’t get used to a place in just one week. But it is the beginning of a transition. We can’t promise you that it’ll always be easy, but if you stay calm and embrace the awkwardness, it will be fun.

—Staff writer Sofia E. Groopman can be reached at segroopm@fas.harvard.edu.

HIROKO KUMAKI—CRIMSON PHOTOGRAPHER

Harvard undergraduates enjoy food and rides at the Harvard Carnival, an annual event held to welcome back the upperclassmen.

THE HARVARD CRIMSON

PAGE 16

AUGUST 27, 2009

Boring January, Dramatic March and Sunny May Life Under Budget Cuts YEAR AHEAD from Page 1

that is much too short, make sure to take part in one of the most noted Harvard traditions—the Harvard-Yale Game.

Grab all your Harvard paraphernalia and hop on the bus down to New Haven.

There you will aimlessly wander the Yale campus in search of a party (remember freshman week?) and then spend the night sleeping on the floor of your roommate’s cousin’s high school girlfriend. Wake up early the next morning to hobnob with tweedy alums whose names end in Roman numerals; the champagne they have at their tailgates is infinitely better than the boxed wine the Houses are passing out.

Maybe even try to make it from the tailgate to the stadium. Maybe.

Predictions: Harvard will beat Yale.

Again. You’ll stop caring that you think Uggs are tacky and realize that a scarf is more than just a fashionable accessory. By now, most of your friends have probably dropped off the crew team. You probably quit last month.

all your reading, take verbatim notes in lecture, and make skyscraper-like stacks of flash cards to study for exams. Seniors in your sections will snicker at your youthful eagerness.

Depending on your interests, you’ll likely take either Ec 10 (technically Social Analysis 10) or Life Sci 1A, and spend the semester packed into Sanders Theater along with nearly half your class. Along with learning if economics or pre-med is right for you, you’ll pick up vital skills like how to sleep in lecture and the importance of obtaining a good study guide.

You might also end up being assigned to take Expos in the fall. While you’ve probably heard that it ruins lives and you’re bound to get a C—neither of which is true—your Expos experience basically boils down to whether or not you have a good preceptor.

Lamont Library will become your home away from home and one of your main centers of social activity. Lamont DECEMBER: FINALS is almost always littered with freshmen, Your first semester at Harvard is so be prepared to coming to an run into dozens of end, which means people you know as “You will aimlessly wander one thing: finals you walk through period.

Lamont Café in But before the Yale campus in search sweatpants. Try not you are faced to sleep there (at with the first of of a party (remember least too often). your intimidating, Also, say good- freshman week?) and then three-hour-long bye to the sun. You finals, you have will not see it again spend the night sleeping the pseudo-break until May. known as reading Predictions: period. You’ll likely on the floor of your You’ll do poorly on spend your readyour first midterm. roommate’s cousin’s high ing period sleeping You’ll be shocked. in, frantically writYou might even ing papers, and school girlfriend.” cry. And then you’ll doing any reading wave goodbye to you put off during your childish dreams of a perfect GPA. You the semester. Language classes still meet will be happy to see your parents on Fresh- during reading period, so you’ll find yourman Parents Weekend, and even more self regretting your decision to take that 9 excited to see them go home. a.m. Spanish class.

One night in December you will crawl out of your studying cave and find yourNOVEMBER: THE GAME By now, you’ve probably realized that self running around Harvard Yard. At Cambridge is cold. Painfully, mind-numb- midnight. Naked. Primal Scream isn’t for ingly cold. And if you’re from anywhere everyone, but it’s a Harvard must-do and south of New York, your wardrobe is prob- a way to let out some of the stress you’ve ably sorely unprepared for the persnickety been accumulating all semester. So what if creepy old men take pictures of you and Cambridge skies.

In between stuffing your face with everyone you know sees you naked.

Your first Harvard finals will be scary. turkey and listening to your aunt tell you how proud she is that you go to Harvard, Study a lot, sleep a little, and hope you take advantage of Thanksgiving Break to don’t have two on the same day.

After you conquer the finals monster, stock up on two of the most precious commodities for a Harvard student—winter congratulations! You now have a five-week winter break! Go home. clothes and sleep.

Predictions: You will spend multiple But before you head home for a break

nights sleeping in Lamont. You will spend most of your Board Plus on coffee as you attempt to stay awake. In desperation, you will discover that J.P. Licks sells a drink called the “Red-Eye” (coffee plus espresso shots). You will desperately try to keep your mother from seeing the naked picture of you on the front page of The Crimson.

JANUARY: NOTHING

Thanks to Dean Hammonds and the economic crisis that has your senior friends convinced they will be working at a bakery next year, you now have a fiveweek-long break known as J-Term.

Going home will be a welcome rest from the chaos of finals period. Buy your parents something from the COOP for Christmas and try not to drop the H-Bomb on your friends.

After about two weeks of sleeping in and enjoying your mom’s pancakes, you will likely begin to remember why you were so excited to go away to college. Your parents will ask what time you are coming home. It will not be acceptable to come home drunk.

You still have three weeks left of sitting at home. Eek. Avoid this by making friends with someone from Hawaii or Miami during the fall. Your pasty Cambridge skin will thank you.

Predictions: After months of staying up late studying, you’ll find it tough to go to bed before 3 a.m., and even harder to wake up before noon. You’ll spend hours sprawled on the couch making up for the time you didn’t get to spend watching television in your cable-free Harvard dorm.

And, deep down inside, you’ll miss being at Harvard. Tear.

FEBRUARY: CLASSES ARE NEW AGAIN Relaxed and (hopefully) tanned, you will return to cold, snowy Cambridge and the beginning of a new semester.

Time to pick new classes. Take some Gen Ed classes now–it’s good to get a head start on fulfilling your requirements, and you don’t want to take three government classes only to decide next fall to become a physics concentrator.

All your friends will take The Human Mind. It will sound interesting, and you will want to take it too. Don’t do it.

Before you know it, your friends will be talking about what they will be doing for the summer. Start looking into internships and study-abroad grants so you don’t find yourself back at home working at an ice cream shop for the summer.

Predictions: You will shop twice as many classes as you did last semester now that you understand what 400 pages of reading a week actually means. You will

not have a date on Valentine’s Day and will spend the evening bemoaning the Harvard dating scene with your roommates.

MARCH: HOUSING DRAMA

her puffy coat.

Yard Fest will give you the chance to break away from studying to hear two B-list artists perform in Tercentenary Theatre. After about 20 minutes your homework will probably sound more appealing and you’ll leave for Lamont.

During pre-frosh weekend, scope out next year’s freshman class and realize how much has changed since you were an overeager, high-achieving high school senior.

Predictions: You will forget to coordinate with your roommates and end up hosting 7 pre-froshes. You will hopelessly try to convince your blockmates that Dunster isn’t so bad. You will hookup with a pre-frosh at Mather Lather and you’ll both end up with creepy rashes. You’ll go to UHS, and she’ll go to Princeton.

Depending on your hometown, March may be a time when flowers begin to bloom, trees being to sprout bright green leaves, and the melodic chirps of the birds signify the arrival of spring. This is not the case at Harvard.

Piles of dirty snow will continue to sully the Yard and fill the streets of Cambridge. And while spring won’t be greeting you anytime soon, midterms will.

In March you’ll get to pick the seven people you want to live with for the next three years. If you’ve had a tight group of seven BFFs since freshman week, blocking will be painless. More likely, it will be awkward, dramatic, and alienating.

Either way, it will end with the River MAY: SUN! Run, in which you and your blockmates The end is near! As the sun finally will take shots at the River Houses and begins to peek out from behind the clouds, offer up a boat to you will concenthe river gods in trate much less hopes of being “After about two weeks of on studying than placed in Adams. you did during last Hope it doesn’t sleeping in and enjoying reading period. rain, keep away You may even from cops, and succumb to the your mom’s pancakes, bring alcohol or upperclassmen’s hairspray to ensure belief that reading you will likely begin to your boat catches period could be on fire. The next remember why you were more aptly named morning you’ll “drinking period.” eagerly await your Grab a spot so excited to go away to housing decision— on the grass and try not to slam the college. Your parents will pretend to study door if you get your coursepack. placed in Currier.

Warmer weather ask what time you are Spring break means tourists will will be a welcome coming home. It will not begin to flood the relief. Go someYard in droves. where warm.

Smile politely as be acceptable to come Predictions: they take your picYou’ll start going ture. home drunk.” to the MAC in Take your hopes of getting exams, shake off rid of the 10 pounds you’ve gained since the stress, and you’re done! Bye, bye HarSeptember. As you put on your boots vard. and winter coat to walk across the Yard Predictions: You’ll spend days sitting to breakfast, you will regret not going to on your bed watching lecture videos, since Stanford. you stopped going to class in March. You’ll study less, but still get a B+. You will arrive back home paler and smarter than the rest APRIL: YARDFEST AND HOOKUPS The year is almost over. Well, not quite. of your high school friends.

Obviously, no one will have precisely The snow has given way to incessant rain.

But April showers bring May flowers, this experience. You are, however, almost guaranteed to be told that Harvard is what right? Um, sure.

On a happy note, at Harvard, spring you make of it, and this is the truth. Come is for lovers. After nearly a year without a with an open mind and enjoy your freshhint of romance, many of your friends will man year. It will be over before you know suddenly be in relationships. And you will it. realize the girl who has been sitting next to —Staff writer Lauren D. Kiel can be reached you in Ec 10 all year looks better without at lkiel@fas.harvard.edu.

Getting To Know the Boston Sports Landscape Red Sox, Patriots, Celtics and Bruins offer a wealth of options for immersion

By TIMOTHY J. WALSH CRIMSON STAFF WRITER

It would be impossible to truly experience the city of Boston without immersing yourself in the local sports culture. To some extent, this encounter is unavoidable. From Back Bay to the North End, the streets are swamped with the licensed apparel of the Red Sox, Patriots, Celtics, and Bruins. Bars and restaurants throughout the city have TVs tuned into ESPN, NESN, and CSN; the chatter amongst locals frequently centers around the merits and faults of teams, players, and personnel; and a “Yankees Suck!” chant will spontaneously break out anywhere from on the T to inside Sanders Theatre.

Without making a concerted effort, you can expect to be casually aware of the sports scene. But for someone with any interest in Boston or in sports, a little effort along the right avenues will unlock an unparalleled experience.

The adventure can begin inside your dorm room. Because Harvard fails to provide cable television, you will learn to wring every ounce of pleasure out of the internet. Rather than memorizing funny FML entries or becoming a Sporcle prodigy, try out ESPN360, a web site to which Harvard subscribes that streams live sports. The broadcasts include everything from cricket to handball, and every so often you can catch a Red Sox or Celtics game. If a game is not carried and you are trapped in your room, dust off the old radio and tune into 850 AM (for the Red Sox and Celtics) or 98.5 FM (for the Bruins and Patriots).

Actually watching a game on TV can be tricky. You could always go to a restaurant or bar to watch the game, but as a poor college kid, you probably cannot afford this luxury. The easiest route is to find one of Harvard’s many common rooms and hope the game is on. Of course, this approach can be problematic for a number of reasons. For starters, it only takes one student addicted to C-SPAN to miss a Patriots game.

Instead of giving him an atomic wedgie, though, use the dorm e-mail list to stake your claim to the television ahead of time. Unfortunately, the prospect of watching the game with total dunderheads remains, but you must remember: no sacrifice, no glory.

These inlets to Boston sports are most beneficial to existing fans trying

at North Station, a short ride from Harvard Square on the Green Line.

Any online ticket agency will carry an abundance of cheap nosebleeds to most games, and, in the case of the Bruins, you can walk right up and buy tickets.

With lights flashing in the rafters, the Kiss Cam playing on the Jumbotron, tshirts flying out of cannons, and music blasting from the speakers, these games are tailored towards those with ADD and are packed with entertainment.

Fenway Park, on the other hand, is like a landmark frozen in time. There is no sideshow—only the stadium, the game, and the crowd. Perhaps for that reason, the Red Sox are Boston’s golden

ticket. Getting a hold of a pair is not easy. In the offseason, the team holds a lottery for the right to buy tickets at face value. Even though people all over New England sit in front of their computers hitting the refresh button, it is worth a shot to try your own luck. If that fails, you can always pony up some cash and be guaranteed tickets through an online agency. Your best option, though, might be joining several e-mail lists on campus (house lists, club lists, etc.) and waiting for other students to sell their tickets. Sometimes the opportunity will come on short notice, but it will definitely arise a few times during the spring. When such a chance presents

By MOLLY M. STRAUSS CRIMSON STAFF WRITER

At this point, you’ve probably heard: Your soon-to-be alma mater is facing some, well, small financial difficulties.

And by “difficulties,” I mean that the Faculty of Arts and Sciences is battling a mere $143 million budget deficit. True, we still have the largest endowment of any University in the world—by a long shot. But, in this time of crisis, Harvard needs to save some major dough. During its first round of cutbacks (which helped bring the deficit down from its original $220 million), the College unveiled the courageous sacrifices we students will have to endure as administrators attempt to “reshape” FAS. Exam Proctors: Once upon a time, finals period brought with it a scene straight out of Florida’s retirement communities. The five elderly, bluehaired individuals overseeing your testing experience—one of whom bore a shocking resemblance to your stern great-uncle Seymour—took their responsibilities very seriously. But, no more. Now, teaching fellows from each course—who actually understand the material and their test’s format—will likely administer finals. What an idea!

Someone knowledgeable might actually be present to answer questions!

Hot Breakfast: Now that Annenberg is the only place on campus that serves pancakes and omelettes during the week, expect pandemonium in the early hours as upperclassmen athletes

“It will be even easier to check Gmail on your iPhone while painting your nails, reading The Crimson online, and eating a doughnut— all while your Gov 20 TF goes on and on about something called ‘volunteerism.’ Or was it ‘voluntarism?’ Let’s just hope that one’s not on the midterm.”

itself, be sure to pounce. Boston’s most iconic venue—easily walkable from the Kenmore or Fenway stops on the Green Line—is worth the price of admission.

Nowhere else than at a sporting event can you gain a greater sense of the city. Because sports are the common denominator between the working stiff and the Brahmin, these venues play host to a mosaic that best represents the region: the civic pride, the self-deprecating humor, the external cynicism, the private hope—all the qualities that give Beantown its wicked distinct charactah.

attempt to get their fill. Trying to eat your Veritaffle in peace? Unlikely, with the lacrosse team bro-ing out so loudly at the neighboring table. Don’t attempt to strike up a conversation.

Lost Book Replacement Fee: Clearly, Harvard is going to make up its entire $143 million deficit by harassing you for not returning that one, random copy of “Dwelling and Architecture: from Heidegger to Koolhaas.”

Bigger Classes: Apparently, 18 has always been the “target” for the number of students enrolled in a Harvard section, but, in the past, you wouldn’t know it (the average was 13 students last year). Now, we’re aiming for perfection like never before. Which means it will be even easier to check Gmail on your iPhone while painting your nails, reading The Crimson online, and eating a doughnut—all while your Gov 20 TF goes on and on about something called “volunteerism.” (Or was it “voluntarism?” Let’s just hope that one’s not on the midterm.)

Quad Library: Administrators say they’re converting it into “social space,” so now Quadlings will have to toil away on papers in Lamont. Just one more reason to pray you’re not Quadded. Beg the River Gods, nightly.

Athletics: If you have dreams of becoming Harvard’s next junior varsity men’s hockey, baseball, or basketball star, you’ve got another think coming. Newsflash: These teams now enjoy club status. And, have I mentioned that you won’t be eating hot breakfast come sophomore year, unless you trek to the ‘Berg?

Faculty Expenses: Your dreams of one day becoming a renowned Harvard professor and flying your private jet to weekly conferences in Dubai—free martini in hand—have been dashed.

Now that FAS will no longer be spending $13 million on travel, meals, and entertainment for its most elite, you’ll just have to settle for eating a no-longer“subsidized” meal at the Harvard Faculty Club when you become a professor.

—Staff writer Timothy J. Walsh can be reached at twalsh@fas.harvard.edu.

—Staff writer Molly M. Strauss can be reached at mstrauss@fas.harvard.edu.

CRIMSON FILE PHOTO

to follow their teams on a day-to-day basis. But everyone—locals, newcomers, and rivals alike—should strive to see a game live. The Patriots play in Foxborough, Mass., roughly 20 miles outside of Boston. Gillette Stadium, which offers its own stop off the Providence line of the commuter rail, resides in a mammoth complex that makes up a veritable shrine to New England’s football team. Since tickets are sold out before each season, you will most likely never get to see Tom Brady in the flesh unless you have good connections.

The Celtics and Bruins, both of which play at the TD Garden, are far more accessible. The arena is located

FAS has cut back $77 million so far—what does this mean for you?

AUGUST 27, 2009

THE HARVARD CRIMSON

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THE HARVARD CRIMSON

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AUGUST 27, 2009

For more information go to:

comp.thecrimson.com or come to Open Houses on Monday, September 7th , Wednesday,

September 9th and Thursday, September 10th at 7pm at 14 Plympton St. If you have questions about any of our boards, contact: ARTS

IT

Jessica Henderson, jhenders@fas.harvard.edu Jeff Feldman, jfeldman@fas.harvard.edu

Tomo Lazovich, lazovich@fas.harvard.edu Jon Noronha, noronha@fas.harvard.edu

BUSINESS

NEWS

Phil Daniel, pdaniel@fas.harvard.edu Katherine Petti, kpetti@fas.harvard.edu

DESIGN

Sarah Joselow, sjoselow@fas.harvard.edu Alee Lockman, alockman@fas.harvard.edu ILLUSTRATION: Julia Guren, jguren@fas.harvard.edu WEB DESIGN: Yuhki Yamashita, yyamash@fas.harvard.edu

EDITORIAL Marcel Moran, mmoran@fas.harvard.edu Alix Olian, olian@fas.harvard.edu

FIFTEEN MINUTES Emily Graff, ecgraff@fas.harvard.edu Patrick Knoth, dpknoth@fas.harvard.edu

Nathan Strauss, strauss@fas.harvard.edu Charlie Wells, wells2@fas.harvard.edu

PHOTO Chang Xu, changxu@fas.harvard.edu

SPORTS Max Brondfield, mbrondf@fas.harvard.edu Kate Leist, kleist@fas.harvard.edu

GENERAL QUESTIONS? Maxwell Child, mchild@fas.harvard.edu Cliff Marks, cmarks@fas.harvard.edu Steve Stelmach, sstelmach@fas.harvard.edu

Comp sponsored in part by the McCormick Foundation.

AUGUST 27, 2009

THE HARVARD CRIMSON

MAGAZINE

The Best Square Locales For a (Memorable) Drink

By JULIA M. SPIRO CRIMSON STAFF WRITER

Here at Harvard, it is sometimes easier to go to a bar than go to the trouble of sneaking booze past your proctor and into your room. And right outside of your doorstep is a solid group of watering holes.

So here is FM’s guide to the top places for getting shitty in the Square.

The Kong: The big, scary bouncers here are infamous; almost everyone has a Kong horror story, so don’t even bother trying to get in if you aren’t 21. If you can swing it, however, head upstairs to the bar for a legendary scorpion bowl. These things have produced memorable nights for many students (so memorable, in fact, that most of them can’t be remembered at all).

Uno’s: In the basement of this chain is a slightly seedy, totally college bar that is home to the ever-popular Monday night karaoke, which starts around 10 p.m.

There is usually a bouncer on the stairs, but if you get there on the early side, you might miss him. If you’re drunk enough, the cheap bar food is amazing.

Tommy Doyle’s: Wednesday nights at this two-floor Irish bar are trivia nights.

Go with a group and order a few pitchers; competing as a team is a fun way to bond and make friends. But bouncers are tough at Tommy’s, so beware.

Daedalus: The rooftop of this restaurant and bar is one of the best places in the Square to spend an evening or an afternoon when the weather is nice. Go for dinner or afternoon drinks and you will avoid the bouncers.

Avoid These Crazy Harvardians

By JULIA M. SPIRO CRIMSON STAFF WRITER

Charlie’s Beer Garden: Slightly divey and totally unpretentious, the Beer Garden is a rowdy and summery place to have a refreshing Hoegaarden while rubbing shoulders with a crowd that ranges from Law School students to sweet laxers.

Watch out for the mice running through the stone walls.

Shay’s: This hole-in-the-wall attracts a slightly older crowd and the bouncers are tough, but Shay’s is an easy, no-frills place to grab a quick beer with a friend if you want to avoid any bar where groups of girls are downing Kamikaze shots.

Takemura/Shilla: Okay, neither of these are bars. They’re Japanese restaurants. But they are some of the top spots for freshman year memories for many students. Known for being easy on IDs, these two restaurants are the best places to go for sake bombing and sloppy group dinners.

Noir: For the sophisticated crowd willing to shell out a few more dollars on a pricey martini, Noir is a solid destination.

Tucked into the Charles Hotel, Noir’s dark and trendy decor helps patrons forget that they’re in crunchy Cambridge. Ladies, watch out for skeevy suits in town for “business.”

Grafton Street: This restaurant and bar attracts one of the broadest ranges of patrons, so you never know who you will run into. The bouncers aren’t too tough and you can always go on the early side to avoid them altogether. Grafton is a great place to start the night with a round of shots or a Grafton Goblet, a slightly classier version of a scorpion bowl.

—Staff writer Julia M. Spiro can be reached at jspiro@fas.harvard.edu.

Comp Fifteen Minutes, The Harvard Crimson’s magazine!

PAGE 19

It’s no mystery that students at Harvard are weird. If we were smart enough to get in, something must be wrong with us. But many of the neuroses of the undergraduate student body extend beyond perfectionism or compulsive spell-checking.

You know how some people have Freudian complexes? Well Harvard students have complexes often so deep and carefully hidden that they only reveal themselves after several weeks of dating (“dating” is a loose term at Harvard; what I really mean is “a few dance floor makeouts and late-night texts”). Here are some of the crazies to look out for.

GUYS The “Well, I don’t exactly go to Harvard” Complex Taking classes at the Extension School does not make you a Harvard student.

These faux-students linger in the Barker Center or the Garage Starbucks, pensively writing (not typing) away in their notebooks in hopes of fitting in with the rest of the undergrad population. Unless they’re upfront with you right away, don’t bother: the only thing more screwed up than actually being a Harvard student is pretending to be one.

The “I just want to blend in” Complex The flannel shirts, unwashed hair, and old L.L. Bean backpack are just props, so don’t be fooled. At first glance, this guy wants you to think that he isn’t a published author, a member of a rock band, or heir to a massive fortune. But don’t be surprised when you find yourself next to him on a futon listening to him bemoan his childhood of privilege and gush about how he’s so grateful that at Harvard he can just be a normal guy. If he really wanted to “get away from all that superficial bullshit” and go unnoticed, he would have gone to Arizona State, joined a frat, found a girlfriend named Brittany, and called it a day.

The “next Zuckerberg” Complex Just because Zuckerberg got lucky doesn’t mean that wearing a hoodie sweatshirt everyday and being a perpetual asshole will make you lucky as well. These

guys are so insecure that they figure their best bet is to act like huge dicks in the hopes that, upon inventing some radical Web site that instantly earns them billions, they will be able to say a satisfying “suck it” to all those girls who refused to do so.

The “I’m metro” Complex No, sweetie, you’re gay. And that’s great!

But do us all a favor and save your energy pretending to be something else. If you’re a gal lusting after a guy who wears skinny jeans, sports a messenger bag, is an English concentrator, and has an Asian fetish, you should just give up right now—he will never have sex with you, even if he tries.

The “Harvard Man” Complex Most kids who wind up at Harvard feel a lot of pressure to succeed, whether from within or from their parents. But there are some guys in particular who feel it on a much deeper level, and this obsession with becoming the perfectly educated, groomed, sculpted epitome of the Harvard Man (think “American Psycho”) consumes them, making them some of the most neurotic people on campus. If he carries a custom-made business card holder with him when he goes to the gym, run.

GIRLS

CRIMSON FILE PHOTO

The “Formerly fugs” Complex This type can be seen at many colleges but is most relevant at Harvard. After a few months in the Yard, students start unknowingly lowering their standards. Suddenly, the girl who never could get the attention of that stud hockey player in high school is hot shit, and she knows it. This new and powerful surge of confidence often goes straight to their heads, making them totally conceited and bitchy, when the hard (and ugly?) truth is that they’re only “pretty...for Harvard.”

The “Phi Beta whatever” Complex These girls are some of the most philanthropic on campus because they’re always thinking of others’ feelings (he just looked so sad!). But they’re also always thinking of ways to pretend that they go to UVA instead of Harvard, when they should just face the fact that Harvard is not a Greek system kind of school. These girls like to think they know how to party, but

more often than not, they can’t hold their liquor and wind up in UHS. Then again, I’d probably also throw up if I went to a Greek formal.

The “TYPE A” Complex While this complex can certainly apply to guys as well, it seems to be most common among female undergrads. This is the kind of girl who never received anything below a 100 percent on any school assignment. Ever. But the complex goes beyond grades; it’s the kind of obsession with perfection that makes this girl a total psycho.

Common symptoms include developing an eating disorder, having a fling with a TF in order to get a higher grade, and moving into a single just two weeks into freshman year after being convinced that her roommate is stealing her granola bars.

The “Hillary” Complex Gender equality has come a long way

at Old Boys’ Club Harvard, but there are a certain number of female undergrads who just aren’t ready to give up the fight. Unless you’re a guy who is willing to always be spoken down to, always be wrong, and regularly be mocked in public, stay away from these confidence-killing, ego maniac future litigators and politicians.

The “I’m looking for a man, not a boy” Complex Unless you’re a Business School student with your own startup, don’t count on these girls giving you the time of day.

They will use you to get alcohol or to get into your club’s party, but they’re on the lookout for someone with what they consider a little bit more maturity, class, and sophistication. And that’s exactly how I would describe a 30-year old HBS student actively pursuing a 19-year-old undergrad.

—Staff writer Julia M. Spiro can be reached at jspiro@fas.harvard.edu.

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THE HARVARD CRIMSON

AUGUST 27, 2009