"There are a lot of other guys who had done similar things," Eugene Rivers '83, a 30-year-old Philadelphia native, begins, "but it [success] is really about who you know," he continues. Rivers emphasizes that the movie Black at Yale was not only his story, but the story of countless Blacks. "A lot of them are a lot more intelligent than 90 per cent of the graduating class at Harvard," but because of oppression and neglect by society they have ended up in gutters, prisons, or graveyards. "These people have no breaks, no money--they are invisible people." His story is their story, he repeats.

But regarless of whether Rivers's story is his or that of a segment of society, it bespeaks dedication, perseverance and courage. Born in the slums of Philadeplphia. Rivers found himself having to fight just to survive. "Just to defend yourself you had to be into an aggressive violence trip." After leaving the "City of Brotherly Love" because the violence and intensity of his surroundings were beginning to overwhelm him. Rivers went to New Haven where Black at Yale began.

The last seven years have been difficult for Rivers; time and time again he found himself with no place to go, forced to hunt for food or haunted by the spectre of another desperate street situation. After leaving New Haven in 1975, he came to Cambridge where he eventually met Martin Kilson, professor of Government, and Judith Tilman '78, two people who made a significant difference in his life. In 1976, after a time of "serious hustling" with the help of Kilson. Rivers enrolled as a visiting undergraduate at Harvard. He consistently worked for 50 hours a week to support himself while taking two classes, and, for more than five months, he had to work every day of the week almost 100 hours in a week, just to get by. Still, he could not leave the street legacy behind him. Without the help of a Christian community in Roxbury, he, like so many others he knows, might have been sucked down into society's sewages.

Throughout the past ten years, Christianity has been the driving force in his life. "Christian understanding is the only thing that makes sense to me." Rivers says. His Christian outlook gave him the courage to persevere; it strengthened him and shaped his perception. Rivers says he has seriously questioned his Christian beliefs in an attempt to arrive at some kind of understanding and has made many adjustments. Once, he was excommunicated from his family's church in Philadelphia because of his exploration of different approaches. Because of his Christian outlook, "everything I'm about has to come out of serving others," he says.

Now officially enrolled in the Class of '83, Rivers has had to make adjustments. Dealing with Blacks from different backgrounds as well as whites here "was a real culture shock," he says. In addition, "I didn't have the apparatus to read the professional cues." Quite simply, he did not know the unwritten rules of behavior which so many students are weaned on, he says, adding that Tilman was instrumental in helping him adjust.

Rivers is troubled by what he perceives as a lack of "real sophisticated stuff going on." At Harvard, he sees a lot of rote recitation but very little serious inquiry, and he hopes this will change. He says he wishes to write and teach after he graduates, and stresses that, despite its problems, he enjoys Harvard, likes many of the people here and sees a lot of potential for growth. He also likes the living arrangements. After all, "I'm eating better now than I have in ten years," he says.