With the exit of this year's seniors and the ascent of the first years from the Yard to the houses, Harvard's residential system will become fully randomized for the first time in the history of the College. When the class of '98 leaves these hallowed homes, very few remaining students will have a personal memory of a time when the houses were chosen--even of the non-ordered, somewhat random variety of choice.

The stated goal of the policy shift was to increase the diversity of the Houses and to facilitate increased interaction between students of different backgrounds in an attempt to thwart the growing polarization on the campus. With the perspective of three years and in anticipation of a campus community that will no longer know of anything but a fully randomized living environment, it seems imperative to assess some of the successes and shortcomings of the present housing program. Having been avidly opposed to randomization when the policy was enacted, I have gained a new appreciation for it in the intervening years.

Three years ago, when the randomization policy was first announced, the majority of this campus came out against it. Perhaps the most significant criticism of the policy was the stifling of student choice and autonomy. Although I certainly respect the University feeling responsible to create an environment of open and interesting interchange, one would be hard-pressed to justify a limitation of choice in the pursuit of openness, especially since it is not clear that the goals and potential results of randomization balance such blatant disregard for our freedom of choice.

Speaking of blatant disregard, randomization was a unilateral decision on the part of the University to implement a non-choice housing program that the majority of students had clearly and consistently opposed. Such paternalistic action on the part of the Administration, displaying clear disinterest in student voice on the issues that most intimately and regularly affect our lives, is a mockery of our intelligence and maturity.

Ironically, the three classes that have gone through the housing lottery since randomization began have blocked in larger groups than any class that preceded them. Free of the fear of being Quadded which guided so many of my classmates' rooming decisions, the classes of '99, 00 and '01 create clusters or small communities that can be dangerously self-sufficient and exclusive.

With all these criticisms I remain in full agreement. Randomization is one in a string of decisions that the University has made with complete indifference to student opinion; limitations of student freedom is never something to be lauded; blocking groups remain large, splintering somewhat House communities and undermining the very goals of integration. Nonetheless, randomization is not the unmitigated disaster I was certain it would be.

I live in Mather, which is in fact a more interesting house than it was when I first joined. Although there are fewer baseball caps and DHA's (that's insider lingo for Harvard sweats) in the dining hall than before, there is more music of many different varieties; there are more dinner discussions and theme tables; and people of more diverse backgrounds wander through the halls than ever did when I was a sophomore.

At the same time, one of my main concerns with randomization was that houses, once a strong element to college life, would deteriorate as a greater Harvard focus emerged. But that hasn't happened. Although Mather no longer quite fits the endearing nickname "home for steroids" that adorns an old t-shirt, there remains a distinct feeling of house community. Yesterday morning, Winthrop House hosted a welcome to their rising sophomores, the class that will make randomization complete. The Winthrop that these first years saw was a vital and connected community, not an apathetic and coincidental collection of individuals.

There is no doubt that house traditions and characters will change, perhaps more quickly and markedly than before. But change alone is nothing negative. In fact, change is perhaps the most defining element of the college experience: Every year, 25 percent of our community changes and within four years essentially the entire student body is new. The critical piece is maintaining exciting and cohesive house lives, whatever qualities define them.

After all, Mather was known as the house for science and math nerds before it became the home for steroids.

Talia Milgrom-Elcott '98, a social studies concentrator, lives in Mather House. Her column appears on alternate Mondays.