For the average Harvard student, Cambridge is little more than a backdrop to the drama of college life. Every year, thousands of students eat pizza at Pinocchio's, buy tuxedos at Keezer's and stroll through the Common, but the closest they usually come to Cambridge residents is across a cash register.

But beyond the gates of the Yard is a city of nearly 100,000 people, who play ball in the front yard, shop for groceries and relax in cafes within sight of the University.

The two groups rarely meet--Cantabrigians say they rarely encounter Harvard students in their daily lives. As a result, the stereotype of smart rich kids is hard to shatter.

Many people interviewed in Harvard Square say that students they've met were polite and thoughtful.

"As individuals, most [Harvard students] are highly regarded," says Cambridge city councillor Henrietta Davis, a graduate of the Kennedy School of Government.

But the popular image of Harvard students--like those in the movie Good Will Hunting--persists for locals.

Dennis Bellach, a flower vendor in front of Au Bon Pain, wraps a single iris for a woman as he talks about his impression of Harvard students.

"Being someone who put himself through school, a lot of them have a silver spoon in their mouths," Bellach says with a mischievous grin. "A lot are from poor backgrounds and work their butts off, and others are just daddy's little boys. They have the same thing at BU, but here they have more Gucci bags."

At the Dunkin' Donuts in the Harvard Square T station, Tommy, a Watertown resident, offers a slightly different image.

"They're too serious, all business," he says. "All they do is study and stay inside, they need to enjoy life a little more--gotta go out and do other things."

A woman from Waltham, overhearing the conversation, pitches in. "They do other things--they drink," she says.

"Not much," says Tommy.

"Well, you've never seen them on the weekends," she says. "They come in here, and they're better than us, that's what they think."

"And some of 'em are just weird," Tommy chimes in. "You know who's the worst? The law school students--they're the rich, snotty ones."

But residents who have interacted with undergraduates say they have come to appreciate the diversity of the student body.

"I've found that you can't afford to hold stereotypes with anyone. Everyone is different," says Acting Captain Charles Schwab, a 24-year veteran of the Harvard University Police Department.

Looks can be deceiving, he says: One of the most notorious thieves he knew stole with impunity from dorms, never questioned because he wore a three-piece suit. By contrast, a Harvard psychology professor he knows has long hair, a beard and a leather jacket, and drives a motorcycle around.

For many residents, however, there is no opportunity to challenge their views about students. And so the two groups continue their separate lives.

"I think Harvard students tend to look at Cambridge like it's there for them, or more specifically, like Harvard Square is theirs…but that's not the case," said Christiaan H. Highsmith '03, who grew up in Cambridge and graduated from Cambridge Rindge and Latin School. "When I was in high school I'd come hang out in Harvard Square, but I was pretty oblivious to Harvard students. Harvard Square was my Cambridge too."

Harvard is one of three colleges in Cambridge, but Davis says the city isn't defined by students.

"We're not a college town," she says. "We have a lot of colleges and a lot of college students, but I wouldn't say we're a college town. I would define a college town as one where there are as many or more students as there are permanent residents."

Cambridge houses 25,000 college students, which puts a lot of pressure on living space, Davis says. But that number is only about a quarter of the total population.

Nonetheless, she says, students do contribute to the city's culture.

"Having so many young people means there are lots of young people things to do--clubs in Central Square, lots of cheap restaurants that serve good food," she says. "That really adds a lot to the liveliness of the community."

"Some of my best friends are Harvard students," Davis adds. "I think that's the case for most of us."

Many Harvard alums like Davis fall in love with the city and decide to live in Cambridge after they graduate, whether they were natives or not.

But outside of business transactions, most Cantabrigians have little opportunity to interact with actual Harvard students. CityStep and Phillips Brooks House Association programs like Harvard CHANCE, a tutoring program at local schools, offer some of the only opportunities for Harvard students to meet actual residents. But even community service only goes so far.

"In isolated instances I would interact with Harvard students--when I played Cambridge youth soccer, my coach was from Harvard," Highsmith says. "And there were random conferences I went to in high school, but I generally felt pretty separate."

Nonetheless, as a local resident, "I want to see students volunteering in the community, helping out with schools, with kids and sports," Davis says. "I'm always appreciative when I hear about that happening."

Highsmith agrees that tutoring and coaching programs are valuable ways for students to interact with the community. Students should try to help with "something they're interested in, and something they're good at," he says.

Still, many Cantabrigians think of students as an inconvenience--if they think about them at all.

"In the summer, Cambridge residents are happy because all the Harvard students go home and everything is less crowded," said Edward B. Colby '02, a local resident and Rindge and Latin graduate who is also a Crimson editor. "Most of the people in my school didn't think about Harvard at all. They'd walk through Harvard Yard on their way home from school, but Harvard students didn't really have any impact on their lives."

"Undergraduates tend to be insular, staying in our rooms and studying, not exploring and interacting with the city," he adds.

Harvard remains little more than a massive institution in locals' eyes--"The Vatican of Cambridge," Highsmith calls it--a looming presence but one with little relevance to their lives.

"We never talked about Harvard," says Lu Yin '02, a Rindge alum. "It was just kind of there. [Cantabrigians] don't think about it any more than MIT or Lesley College. There wasn't any resentment; it was just an institution."

The gap between locals and students is hardly ever challenged, Highsmith says.

"[Harvard students] take up a lot of space and make a lot of noise, but they're pretty much separate," he says. "There are thousands of people in Cambridge who are unrelated to Harvard, and they don't care about what's going on at Harvard. I don't mean that in a bad way, it's just that they have their own lives and Harvard is not a part of that."

--Staff writer Benjamin D. Grizzle can be reached at grizzle@fas.harvard.edu.