Some people who come to graduate school expect it to be an extension of their undergraduate years. It is not.

I came to Harvard in 1986 after four years at Princeton University and a year at the the London School of Economics.

My room that first year was in Child Hall. Imagine my boundless enthusiasm upon learning this was an infamous "Walter Gropius building." It was the smallest single I've ever seen--with a wooden plank instead of a box spring frame and walls so thin my next door neighbor regularly could wake me with his snoring.

But the real killer was the fact that an R.A. lived on the floor. Twenty-three year old college graduates do not need mollycoddling, or so I thought. The guy never had a moment's rest, and I thought maybe I had missed the "psychosis" box on the application.

To escape, I volunteered as my floor's representative on the Graduate Dormitory Council (goose-pimply again). The first meeting, held around the end of September, went something like this:

Chair: "Our first picnic will be next Saturday outside Richards Hall."

Unidentified Anal Idiot: "What if it's raining?"

Chair: "The rain date will be that Sunday, same time and place."

Anal Idiot: "What if it's drizzling?"

(Chatter... commotion... dumbfoundedness)

Chair: "Our spring picnic will be Saturday, May 22 outside Richards Hall."

The first two years of any graduate program consist mostly of coursework and qualifying exams. You find out very quickly just how much you enjoy your field. Gone are the days of liberal arts education. Your transcript has an unenviable monotony of course titles.

While the notion of a social life tends to vanish quickly, I was able to find refuge in two of my most favorite activities, singing and teaching. I joined the Harvard Glee Club my first year and have not regretted a minute of my association with the group. Rehearsals are great therapy, and traveling to Europe, Canada and other parts of the U.S. made my work much more palatable.

If there are lessons to be learned as a graduate student, one of them must be to keep your avocations alive. Every member of GSAS needs some release, and convincing yourself you no longer have time for a favorite extracurricular is a big mistake.

For the past four years, I was a section leader for Ec 10, an experience that has been as rewarding as anything I've done at Harvard. Teaching Ec 10 was never a job for me. Sure, it paid the bills, but I didn't approach teaching as something I had to do; it was something I wanted to do. Again, a big mistake.