But forget lectures--the question you want answered is whether the social life is as terrible as you've heard.
Legend has it that Harvard is inhabited by a tribe of pasty-faced "former" geeks for whom social life consists of reading Nietzsche into the wee hours and obsessively checking e-mail. That isn't true, of course...or at least, it isn't entirely true.
Social life begins at home, first in randomly assigned entryways, and from sophomore year on in up to 16-person blocking groups (the core group of friends with whom you receive your Housing assignment). For students in a rush, grab-and-go lunches in Loker Commons are the norm, but it's not so unusual either to linger over an empty tray in your House dining hall through three cycles of conversation.
Don't worry, Harvard does have parties, at least on the weekend. Extracurricular groups and House committees plan dances (ranging from the tragically lame Bare as You Dare to the pleasantly lame Leverett '80s Dance). The calendar is sprinkled with formals, especially in the spring--look for the Eliot House Fete, which features chocolate-covered strawberries and swing dancing.
Room parties are often fun, particularly if you know the hosts; other times they're just loud, sweaty and invaded by the cops at 1 a. m. when the search for alcohol moves elsewhere (check out the Crimson Sports Grille). But for the athlete elite and the first-year women who love them, final clubs, exclusive all-male artifacts from the Roosevelt era--either Roosevelt--offer late-night festivities.
Interrupting the routine are a few marquee social events. The Adams House Masquerade on Halloween weekend succeeds in drawing costumed crowds, but good luck elbowing your way through the door. Though a shadow of its former self, the Harvard-Yale Game in November in the only time you'll see an outpouring of school spirit. Head of the Charles, a regatta weekend in the fall, is more fun for the legions of tourists than the students they inconvenience. And don't be fooled by the excitement of pre-frosh weekend--it's when the admissions brochure in all of us comes out.
Harvard Square is a magnet for young people in boring suburbs. The Pit People are only the most colorful example--they're the flock of pierced, dyed, leather-clad youths next to the T stop.
The Square is actually fairly cosmopolitan, with an abundance of restaurants and shops. It's also pricey and corporate--Abercrombie & Fitch is planning to open a branch across from the Coop next year. "Good Will Hunting" hangout Au Bon Pain and the ubiquitous Store 24 and CVS are down-scale retreats.
If you're looking for students in their preferred element, though, try the banks of the Charles River, Harvard's most beautiful vista on warm days. But this is not Stanford--Cambridge weather is spastic, and the occasional summery spats in the dreariest, snowiest months are a cruel taunt.
The snow is most oppressive if you live in the dreaded Quad. The three Quad Houses are roomy, clean, attractive...and 15 minutes from the rest of campus. Quadlings will quickly bond while waiting at shuttle stops.
The Quad at least offers an element of solidarity that the River Houses have lacked since randomization in 1995. Harvard students used to pick their upperclass digs, and each House attracted a different personality (artsy, athletic, elitist). Now, Houses are little more than ordinary dorms, albeit particularly nice ones, most with amenities like fireplaces and hardwood floors.
If Harvard students are too lazy to walk to the Quad, imagine how rarely they get to Boston. We've heard Boston is a fabulous city, with museums, concerts, clubs and great restaurants. Too bad you'll never go.
The real world does occasionally intrude on campus, though. After a several-year lull in student protest, activism roared back this spring when a three-part rally descended on University Hall calling for a living wages, an end to sweatshop-produced goods and sterner protections against rape (two students were recently dismissed from the College after pleading guilty to sexual assault). Curmudgeonly professor Harvey C. Mansfield '53 called the protest "idiotic," but most are glad to see the student body shedding its recent apathy.
Another longtime controversy is the future of Radcliffe, a former undergraduate "college" that announced earlier this week it will become an Institute for Advanced Study. The Radcliffe Union of Students fears that the loss of the "college" will mean less attention to women's concerns on campus, but the jury's still out. One thing's clear: if you came to Harvard-Radcliffe because of its so-called "dual citizenship" for women, you might want to think again.
Many activists are also frustrated by the lack of faculty diversity. Part of the problem is Harvard's missing tenure track--most assistant faculty members will spend less time at Harvard than you will.
