Harvard University dwarfs its students. Its research facilities loom just as large in reputation as its educational system. As a first-year student, you are one in thousands--in some ways, Harvard has been waiting 358 years to present you with a superior experience. But don't make the mistake of thinking Harvard is here to serve you.

At Harvard, the customer is not always right. Sure, you pay a lot of money to come here, but that doesn't mean you make the rules. The faculty and staff here simply know much more about college life and teaching than you do. You have to respect their judgment.

Situations that might stretch your patience can arise in the classroom or the dormitory. You have a week to shop classes, still longer to tinker with your schedule until it's just right. This trial period, like a product warranty, should be taken seriously. No one will think less of you for making a change that you find necessary. If you still end up with a professor or teaching fellow with whom you have a deep personal conflict, try to stick it out.

Arguments about assignments, curriculum or grades just leave a bad taste in the mouths of your teachers and fellow students. Do you believe that your judgment is more fair than your teaching fellow's or professor's? Too bad--you haven't been accorded the power in this situation, nor do you have the appropriate experience to contest it.

Some students attempt to circumvent confrontations by going over the head of the person in question, to a supervising professor, department chair or dean. Before you take this course, ask yourself a few questions. Do you really want to have a reputation with the person in power, and maybe even with your friends and classmates? Do you think your opinion will have--or even deserves--more weight than your teacher's? Can you actually gain anything? Do you really want to be treated differently from all the other students in the class or section? Approaching a senior officer of the University should not be taken lightly; he or she certainly won't minimize the importance of your meeting.

If you're truly bent on personal revenge, you do have some avenues to pursue. The annual guide produced by the Committee on Undergraduate Education (CUE) provides the easiest, most anonymous retorts. The "I" on a scale from 1 to 5 can be a mighty weapon, dragging down averages with ease. The utmost punishment consists of telling your classmates to avoid the teacher in question at all costs. After all, the true reward in teaching derives from having intelligent and earnest students.

And, of course, there's that letter. Every year, a thin envelope wings its way to the front door of every Harvard and Radcliffe student's permanent residence. Inside, the eager openers perennially find the disappointment of a bland letter from Deans Lawrence Buell, L. Fred Jewett '57 and Jeremy Knowles. They want to know what's wrong with your education. As a student, your big chance has finally come.

The letter gives no parameters for a response, so you should feel free to write reams of diatribes and tirades if you feel passionately enough. It's the ultimate in "going over someone's head," since it goes straight to the front office of the College and the Faculty of Arts and Sciences. Why, that letter comes every year like clockwork, so you could be writing your response from September to May.

Problems in the dormitory can be harder to defuse. Classes usually finish after a semester; dorm life continues throughout the year. The hierarchy of authority in the dorms begins with a proctor or resident tutor. These people, thankfully, are not your parents. They all have a standard set of rules to enforce as they see fit; it is up to you to comply.

The proctors and tutors didn't write the rules, so why bother arguing with them? One person's objections will probably not change a policy intended for 6,400 people, or for the 20-some people in your entryway. In fact, your proctor or tutor probably represents the most sympathetic ear in the administration. He or she is also the person you'll be obliged to interact with for the rest of the year. It's best to smooth things over without trying to reach into the higher echelons of power.

Harvard gives you a lot of freedom while you live in the dorms, and not all of it is strictly outlined in the rule-books. If you really can't abide the system, don't think that contesting it will have positive results. Harvard won't try too hard to find out why something that works for 6,400 of your peers doesn't work for you. House and dorm transfers could work for you, as long as a change of scene provides a better remedy than a change of attitude. It could be time to move off campus, where the decisions all become yours. Outside, you might even miss some of the comforts that Harvard provides.

Each year at Harvard brings together thousands of people and hundreds of disciplines. Almost no one leaves with the feeling that the few negative experiences outweighed the many positive. Hopefully, these general instructions will provoke a little thought or soften otherwise uncompromising positions.

You probably figured that now, in college, few people would tell you how to live your life. Clearly, you haven't yet taken a Moral Reasoning class. Advice comes from varied sources--only you can decide whether or not to follow it.

When he isn't toeing the line, Daniel Altman '96 questions authority regularly.