Magellan taking a nap in my arms
Matt and Magellan
Matt and Innocent Jeremy (Taken with instagram)
Taken with instagram
The Anchor and The Buoy: On Being Defined by Harvard
I have a confession: I don’t belong here.
In some ways, I feel a great sense of relief telling you this. After all, when I received news of my admission in what feels like a lifetime ago, a part of me wondered whether the admissions office had made a terrible mistake and confused me with another Angela Su with grander accomplishments and more ambition.
In my four years at Harvard, my suspicions have been largely confirmed. I won’t spend time detailing all the accomplishments of the extraordinary people I’ve met in my classes or read about in the Crimson or occasionally, Forbes and even, more rarely, the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue – you know who you are. In comparison to many of my peers, I, with astounding frequency, honestly often feel that if I am extraordinary in any way, it is in my abilities to conceal my ordinariness.
However, as hard as it is to feel like you belong at Harvard while you’re at Harvard, I’ve found being associated with Harvard outside Cambridge to be an even more daunting experience. We all know that good form demands that we answer “Boston” when people ask what school we go to. Of course, if they ask for specifics, etiquette allows us to tell the truth and answer “Harvard”, but only if you say it as nonchalantly as possible and with a tinge of uncertainty, as if you had somehow forgotten and were only just now reminded.
On one hand, when people ask me where I go to school, I dread telling them I go to Harvard because I know that inevitably, they will want to know how and why: what made me special enough to be accepted? And even after four years, I’m not sure I have a good answer to this question.
On the other hand, sometimes I find myself wishing desperately that I could find a socially acceptable way to insert the fact that I go to Harvard into a conversation. Especially in situations in which I feel uncomfortable or inadequate, I find the Harvard name a comfort, an assuring stamp of validation. Dropping it in conversation feels equivalent to saying: “While it may not be readily apparent, rest assured that there is something of note about me.”
The assumption that we operate under is that regardless of our own feelings of belonging in this institution, in the rest of the world, association with the Harvard name means something and usually, a lot of somethings. It is a word and institution rich with associations. While some of these associations are positive and some less so, it seems undeniable that the Harvard name is universally and reliably evocative.
Is it though? I wonder if in our age of continuing economic distress and political and social apathy if not disillusionment, we can continue to rely on the Harvard name to define us. For example, I have a friend who graduated last year and moved to New York to pursue a career in comedy writing. To financially enable an unpaid internship at the Colbert Report, he spends most of his time searching for and working odd jobs. He told me about how this past summer he had applied for a job at the Container Store. Not as a sales person or a manager mind you, but a stock boy. I asked him whether or not his Harvard diploma had raised eyebrows from his interviewers. He told me that the only time his Harvard degree was mentioned was in a preliminary phone interview. After setting up a time to meet in person, the interviewer finally commented, “So I see you went to Harvard.” As you might imagine, my friend prepared himself to affirm that despite his degree, he was a hard-worker and prepared to do the menial work without a word of complaint. Instead, the interviewer quipped, “You know, the Container Store is the Harvard of container stores,” bid him a good day, and hung up the phone. It was never mentioned again.
I tell this story because I think most of us expect that our association with Harvard will define us in the eyes in the world. However, I’m not so sure if this is as true as it once was, and have to wonder if it will only continue to be less true as we grow older. After all, in many ways, the digital age has democratized not only industries such as the media or the music industry, but also our construction of selves. We, more than ever, have the ability to create our own identities on the internet and beyond.
To an extent, this is a disappointing and terrifying thought. After all, on this day of all days, we are supposed to be celebrating what our sacrifice of sleep and social interaction has given us, this tether to Harvard which is at times a buoy and others, admittedly, an anchor. And instead, here I am suggesting that it all means less, perhaps much less, than we all thought and we will only continue to have to struggle to continually define who we are to everyone we encounter for the rest of our lives. I can’t assure you that dealing with this fact is going to be easy or fun, nor that I am not personally terrified by the future. What I do have to offer is this message: Class of 2012, let us consider this uncertainty not as an obstacle, but as a challenge. This is a call not to rest on our our laurels, but pretend they don’t even exist and work to deserve them again and again. Let us not be defeated but rather be invigorated by uncertainty and to welcome it as an opportunity to work harder and think smarter and be better and do more.
I’ve spent the last four years of my life wondering whether I deserve to be here at Harvard and only now recently have I realized I’ve, and perhaps all of us, had it backwards all along. My worth, our worth doesn’t come from our association with the Harvard name. No, Harvard derives it worth from our accomplishments. Let the burden of proof lie not in our affiliations but in our actions. Let us do our utmost to take this charge with creativity and above all, courage.
Thank you.
Lunch with Kevin at Queens Kickshaw (Taken with instagram)
(via amillionscreams)
Grandma He at Bloomingdale’s Shoe Floor (Taken with instagram)
Taken with instagram
Taken with instagram
