Two years ago, John P. Jones ’06 was a just regular Harvard student. He
had a full course-load, a full-time girlfriend, a position on the
Undergraduate Council (UC), and, according to him, a world defined by
lies.
“I couldn’t see anything,” he says. “I don’t think I really wanted to. I mean, when you open your eyes, it’s terrifying.”
Then, one day last year, Jones’s friend suggested they spend a
day walking around campus. That day, his picture-book world was
shattered forever.
“We started in the Yard,” he remembers. “I was floored by the
tiny basement offices, the dark common rooms, and the haunted looks of
the students living in such conditions.”
After their foray into freshman territory, the two explorers
continued on to the River Houses, where Jones realized the dire social
straits of many individuals.
“There I was with my great girlfriend and great UC position
and great life and they were calling out to me and I was just sickened
by their need,” he says.
The last students Jones and his friend visited that day lived
in the Quad. At first, Jones says, they were wary of outsiders and
suspected the two friends of nefarious purposes. However, after an
enthused hour of Quad football, the Quadlings opened up.
“I was overwhelmed,” says Jones. “I learned that day that
sometimes the shuttle doesn’t come, that their library isn’t open on
Saturdays, and…”
He stops for a moment to master his emotions before
continuing. “That day changed my life forever,” he says, his face oddly
haunting in the dim candlelight of the cave.
In the depths of Jones’s eyes are the secrets of his people,
the people he is currently fighting for. Without him, they are
voiceless. With him, they just may succeed.
THE BIRTH OF A REVOLUTION
Jones
went to the UC meeting the next day ready to rouse his fellow UC
members to fight for their constituents, who were clearly being
marginalized and abused by the distant individuals in University Hall.
“I thought they would all jump up and join me,” says Jones. “I
stood up, told everyone about my epiphany, and was met with a roomful
of blank stares.”
The next day, Jones had lunch with the then-UC President to
discuss the organization of a coup. Surprisingly, this person was
unreceptive to Jones’s plan.
“He sat there saying it was unrealistic to overthrow the
administration. He said that a few hundred thousand dollars a year
wasn’t enough to run a college, especially when they had just lost
money on Havana in the Harbour. And all I could think was that our
brothers and sisters were crying for help out there.”
That day, Jones realized he could no longer live comfortably
in his web of lies. Along with three fellow UC members, he split off
from the student government and moved to a cave he discovered in the
basement of Widener Library. It was in this cave that the HRC (Harvard
Reclamation Club, not to be confused with the Harvard Republican Club)
was born.
Although currently not a recognized student group, the HRC has
successfully run a campaign of sending strongly worded letters and
e-mails to the College’s administration, urging them to step down or
accept the consequences of the oppressed people’s rage. They have yet
to receive a response.
“At first, it all seemed very dark,” says Jones, who thought
it was dark because he lives in a cave. “But we have been gaining
momentum.”
A number of students signed up for the HRC at this year’s
Freshman Activities Fair, and one enthusiastic Texan freshman, Teddy R.
Sachs ’09, has even supplied the insurgents with guns he stole from
home over Thanksgiving.
“It sure feels good to help out my fellow Americans,” say Sachs, who appears to believe he is a member of the other HRC.
THE TIDE MAY TURN
Meanwhile, Jones feels the time for action is fast approaching.
He cites events such as Pub Nights and the failed Springfest
Afterparty as proof that students are ready and waiting for a
revolution. Furthermore, he sees University Hall’s support of these
events as proof the administrators are afraid.
“They are weakening,” he says. “I can smell it in the air.”
And Jones believes incoming UC President Max C. Flounder ’07 will be a cooperative comrade in the upcoming coup.
“He seems like the kind of guy who likes freedom,” says Jones.
“The time for co-existence has come to an end. The UC, with the help of
maybe HSA [Harvard Student Agencies], are the only bodies who have any
business governing this school.”
Sources close to Flounder confirm the new President shares a
similar view; he was once overheard at the gym urging a female student
to “check out his guns,” a clear sign he has been collecting weapons
for the insurgence.
When Flounder formally enters office, HRC’s hopes may be
realized. Until then, they are busy poring over floor plans of
University Hall, designing a logo, and continuing their letter-writing
campaign, all from their hidden cave.
The HRC may live in the dark, but they have certainly seen the
light. Now their success depends on whether other students—especially
Flounder—will see it as well.
