To the Editors of The Crimson:

Anyone who can master the juggling act between intercollegiate athletics and rigorous academics at Harvard has earned my respect. As a member of a varsity team, and as a student on the brink of committing myself to a joint concentration, I understand the additional pressures and the overwhelming time commitments that a student-athlete faces daily.

However, I find Kenneth Katz's editorial piece on his "love" for crew (March 17,1990) not only an affront to committed students in general, but yet another monologue that unfortunately reinforces the stereotypes that previl concerning athletes in general, and rowers in particular.

Is crew really the "ultimate collegiate sport"? If it were, then what are hundreds of equally gifted athletes doing in other sports I refuse to submit to the idea that crew is a sport that somehow should be elevated above all of the other athletic opportunities that are offered at Harvard.

My practices leave me in such a state of exhaustion that the thought of having to climb up three sets of stairs afterwards to get to my dorm room becomes a frightening prospect. And, day in and day out, I return to practice. To me, my sport is Harvard's ultimate challenge; my sport, too is "unceasing physical exertion...in the purest form of athletic competition."

But does this leave me in the position of labeling everyone else's puruits at Harvard--athletic or otherwise--as "wimpy"? As "nice and pleasant self-improvement activities"? The answer is an undeniable no.

Harvard University, first and foremost, is an academic institution. If students choose to spend their time in the pursuit of intellecutal aspirations, those choices are understandable, commendable, and worthy of at least as much respect as Katz is asking for crew, if not more.

A violinist spends at least three hours a day in devoted practice, preparing to honorably represent Harvard at an upcoming concerto competition. An Undergraduate Council committee head stays up all night drafting a proposal. A student chooses to stay in on a Friday night, to use the extra time to write an "A" paper. A rower gets up at 6:30 a.m. to do hills before breakfast. All of these decisions are admirable, and stir a sense of self-pride in those who choose to make them. But one is not better than another.

Mr. Katz, you need not apologize to your peers for rowing--but they should not have to apologize to you for not. Jennifer S. Gahan '93