To the intrepid pre-frosh who have stayed beyond this beautiful weekend: Congratulations.

Congratulations, not just for your acceptance, although it feeds my ego to acclaim that shared accomplishment, but for sticking around an extra day to further investigate your college choice.

Monday is the day when the real Harvard College surfaces. Undergrads always joke that pre-frosh weekend gives a false impression of our college life. First of all, it’s April and it’s warm. At no other time of the year is it possible to go out in shorts. (It snowed last Monday.) The admissions office times your arrival and the return of the color green to Boston perfectly.

Second, pre-frosh weekend is just that: a weekend. You did not arrive until Saturday, missing the classes and work of weekday Harvard. By nature of the warmth and the relative lack of work, on pre-frosh weekend Harvard has a social life. But don’t be fooled—Loker does not always host mixers. The Leverett ’80s dance does not happen every weekend. The social scene here is dominated by the “Harvard Hundred”—meaning the same hundred people rather than a hundred parties.

By staying until Monday, talking to people other than the Crimson Key Society, and of course reading this column, you’re challenging the pre-frosh illusion. You’re looking for more than what you’re shown. And so I meet your challenge. Pre-frosh weekend exposes you to this place, shows you the buildings, but does not tell you if the experience is one you would like. So, from a junior who likes to think she can give advice, here are the top five reasons not to come to Harvard.

1. Don’t come because you think Harvard is number one. We’re not, at least according to U.S. News and World Report. But more importantly, people who come to Harvard because they think it’s the best and because they assume they deserve the best, spend the next four years of their lives finding fault with all of the things that are not the best. Whether it’s the food, the public athletic center, the e-mail program or the teaching fellows who do not speak English, those who look for fault will find it. (A good piece of future advice is to not room with such people—they are tiresome and bitter and have only one topic of conversation.)

2. Don’t come to Harvard because you think you should. Parents like the Harvard name. Grandparents like Harvard T-shirts. Employers like a Harvard degree. But if you don’t think you’ll like the Harvard experience, the short-term cost to your happiness is probably not worth the long-term benefit.

3. Do not come to Harvard because you think it is the next step in your climb to greatness. There are plenty of people here who think that. Maybe they are right—but that does not make them pleasant. They think too much, worry too much and take life too seriously. They approach life and class rigidly, unable and unwilling to explore the multiple and divergent paths offered by this school. Take life and college seriously if you want, but don’t come here because it’s your next strategic step towards world domination.

4. Harvard (with the possible exception of Mather House) is not a state university. Fraternities and sororities, while present, are not a bedrock of campus community. Athletics, though diverse and active, are not a focal point of school spirit. This is not good or bad; it’s just different. Yet this is an important factor to consider if the size of the crowd at a Saturday football game will make or break your college experience.

5. Harvard offers a liberal arts education. This has no practical purpose. I study government. Not political science; government. I learn about tyranny of the majority, not health care. Rather than learning about basic accounting or business management, as my brother at Virginia Tech does, my bookshelf is full of Thoreau and my checkbook is a mess. I am learning how to think, although I have nothing that practical to think about (something you may have noticed from this column). Not that I mind, I may never get rich, but as one government professor noted, I will never be bored.

One genuine impression you have probably gathered from your weekend is that Harvard is an opinionated place. People really love or, some, really hate it. But that choice has as much to do with their mindset as it does with this place. So enjoy your extra day looking around. Pop your head into some classes, and think about why you might not want to come. Then come.

Erin B. Ashwell ’02 is a government concentrator in Eliot House. Her column appears on alternate Mondays.