To the Editors of The Crimson:

On Sept. 28, I came to University Hall in order to convey to the Administration my great distress over the fact that regular classes were scheduled for Monday, Oct. 4, despite the fact that it is Yom Kippur.

I am a new doctoral student at HGSE, cross-registered for two courses in Arts and Sciences. I am also an alumnus of Harvard College, Class of '68. I've worked for the past eight years as a public school teacher. I have experienced, as this week has begun, a tremendous surge of excitement in returning here. I want to do as well as I can. I believe it is unjust and unwarranted that I and many fellow Jews are obliged to miss important early classes for Yom Kippur. It further rankles that classes are scheduled on Yom Kippur, a day that is sacred to a significant percentage of the Harvard community, but not scheduled on Columbus Day, which is a meaningless holiday to nearly everyone.

I'm not sure what the exact formal policy is. An official in the Registrar's office at HGSE told me that it was: not "no Jewish holidays," but, less discriminately, "no religious holidays." I would criticize this "neutrality policy" on four grounds:

1. It obviously puts some students at an academic disadvantage. Remedially, a school calendar that started a day earlier or ended a day later or that neglected to observe Columbus Day (or perhaps that was one day shorter) would put no one at an academic disadvantage. Minimally, there ought to be provision for taping lectures.

2. The "no religious holidays" claim appears to be a shibboleth in that both Christmas and Good Friday conveniently fall within recess periods.

3. The policy has the effect of encouraging people to go about "business as usual" even though it is a holiday, with the rationale that the obligation to attend classes is a serious one. Thus, the policy goes against the grain of religious commitment.

4. The claim of neutrality is actually a mask for a value judgement: if Yom Kippur were judged to be a pressing enough matter, then it would be obvious that a significant problem exists, one that ought to be dealt with respectfully--and openly. The implied condescension in the current policy becomes apparent by considering a rough analogy, viz. inviting a group of people from another culture to stay at your house, and then treating, not their quirks, but a fundamental aspect of their way of life, as though it didn't exist. David B. Ackerman '68