The times, they are a changin'.

In 1926, the typical Harvard student probably lived in a boarding house when he first arrived. By senior year, he moved into a coveted room in the Yard. He probably joined a final club, graduated after earning many gentleman's C's, married a Wellesley woman and became a banker.

In 1966, the typical Harvard student lived in the Yard as a freshman and then moved to a River House for his three upperclass years. His 'Cliffie girlfriend--who lived in the Radcliffe Quad--visited overnight, and together they protested the Vietnam War.

Today, the typical Harvard student still lives in the Yard as a freshman and then in a house, but he may be a she. And he may live up in the old Radcliffe buildings while she lives in a River House.

Coeducational living is only one of many fundamental changes at the College during the past few years. Students in the 1980s have leapt into the preprofessional melee with a vigor that would shock many students of the 1960s and 1970s. Students of the 1920s would be suprised at the geographic and ethnic diversity of each incoming class. In fact, diversity has become the major sales pitch of the admissions staff.

"Come to Harvard and meet students from foreign countries, Northeastern prep schools and Midwest public schools" say the admissions officers. "Meet students who never attended school at all, but learned in their own homes."

"I used to think Harvard was pretty homogeneous--upper middle-class kids," says David C. Hsu '89 of Houston. But after spending a year at the College and working on dorm crew last week, the editor-in-chief of the Harvard Political Review says he has changed his mind and revels in the diversity he has found.

The elitism of yesteryear has waned, but in many ways, Harvard students are still the chosen few. As evidenced by the national and international press coverage of the 350th birthday party earlier this month, America and the world have definite opinions about Harvard and its mystique.

"From outside I think a lot of people think Harvard is elitist," says Charles G. Barnes '88 of Halifax, Nova Scotia. But he adds, "My father is a used car salesman. I didn't even think of applying until the end of grade 11."

There's an old joke: How many Harvard students does it take to screw in a lightbulb? One; he holds the lightbulb, while the world revolves around him.

Students tend to agree with this assessment. "You do get the impression at times here that people believe this is the center of the universe," says Rolf C. Moan '87.

If some think that Harvard holds itself superior to the outside world, most would agree that a certain elitism also exists within Harvard's ivycovered walls. But the Eastern Establishment does not wield quite as much power as it did in the past.

"I don't think it's as elitist as it was in the past," says Moan, who comes from Eugene, Ore. "I don't think it's as elitist as the public believes."

Still, some old habits die hard. Many of today's Harvard students still opt for the company of small groups of educated men and women for their social life. A few hundred upperclassmen, about 10 percent of Harvard's male population, still join one of the nine all-male final clubs each year. But the University severed ties with the groups in July 1984, after pressure from undergraduate groups opposed to what they viewed as tacit endorsement of elitism and sexism.

"When I heard about them, I thought the whole idea was disgusting," says Matthew Forsyth '87-88, a member of the Phoenix Club. But after meeting the club members, he says, "I joined it as a social organization."