Freshman Parents Weekend reminds many Harvard students of the challenges that we had while we attempted to acclimate to our new environment. Apparently there are some who ease into the nonstop academic and extracurricular thrill ride that is otherwise known as Harvard. The rest of us go through what others politely call the adjustment period. Last

years Freshman Parents Weekend found me at the low point of this adjustment.

The Friday that my parents arrived will always be remembered because that

day I took my first Ec 10 midterm and received my first graded Expository

Writing essay. I walked into the midterm expecting that the test would be challenging but still confident that my preparation had been sound. Little

did I know. I had done poorly on tests before, but I had never experienced

the level of helplessness that encompassed the last few minutes as I

watched the clock wind down. I walked out feeling as if I had just gotten a lobotomy. I added up the points that I knew I had missed, and realized I was generously--very generously--looking at a 38.

Until then, I had no idea what it felt like to get a 38. Out of 100. Lets just say that my confidence was shaken. Until then, I never paid attention when others students buzzed about the curve. If nothing else, Ec 10 taught me to love the curve.

But there were more lessons in store for me that fateful Friday. Before meeting my parents, I stopped by the Expository Writing office to pick up

my first essay. (As a side note to first-years who are reading this article: If you happen to find yourself in this position, do not make this trip until Monday.) When I picked up the sealed manila envelope, I opened it and looked for the grade. It didn't seem obvious, and so I started reading the comments. At the midpoint of the scathing review of my work, I read the words that are ever burned into my memory. My preceptor wrote that he was utterly dismayed by

the lack of analysis throughout the entire essay. At this point, I had read enough constructive criticism for one day. Suddenly I understood that the mysterious letter at the bottom of page really was a C.

At this point Harvard had truly begun its campaign to destroy my

self-confidence. But for once, timing was on my side. My parents were

here. I would love to say that I stood strong against this adversity, that I needed no one. The truth is, I went straight to my parents hotel room and assumed the fetal position on their bed. The rebuilding process could only then begin.

Almost all of us go through adjustment periods when we arrive at Harvard. I can understand now that this is totally normal. Despite my struggles, I made it through first semester. More important, it actually did get easier. Struggling in those first few weeks made me wonder if I would be better off locked up in the basement of Cabot Library. There were times I really tried. Work is important and some of it actually gets done at Cabot. But Cabot couldn't give me the best memories I had of my first year, the people I met and the times we had together.

Benjamin M. Grossman