Andrew R. Paterson ’13, who lives in Cabot House, sees Quad life a little differently from most students—his family lives only a few streets away. He went to elementary school at Graham and Parks School and laughs as he recalls throwing water balloons at the undergrads who played football too close to the Cambridge public school’s turf.

For many Harvard students, spring break is an opportunity to leave life in “the Square” and journey back home to a refuge of comfort and familiarity. The distance from home reinforces the notion of two distinct identities in a college student’s life—one of childhood and familial relationships and the other of collegiate exploits.

But for Cantabrigian students, these two unique spaces are contained within each other, divided by blocks rather than miles—and this proximity complicates the way these students contemplate their Harvard experience.

DUAL CITIZENSHIP

“Harvard Square felt like Cambridge, and Harvard Yard felt like the school, and it didn’t feel like our realm,” says Victoria R.C. Palange ’12, a local who attended high school near Porter Square, close to the Quad. In high school she and some friends worked some of the concession stands during The Game in order to raise money for their high school. She tended not to root for the home team and instead cheered for Yale. Though the resident of Eliot House now cheers for the Crimson when they play across the River, she is aware that she skirts an awkward line.

While many in the broader world picture Harvard as a haven of prestige and innovation, many in Cambridge view the University as a cesspool of elitism, gentrification, and rebellious partygoers. Attending classes at Harvard, and rooting for the Harvard football team, while coming from the community side school-city tensions, means that even the slightest discussions of the University needs to be done with an ounce of caution.

“The big H is always looming over what I’m saying,” Palange says of how she relates to her friends from home and others in the Cambridge community. “I don’t go overboard with the Harvard talk.”

She adds, “Some people after a certain point are just like, ‘Alright, congratu-friggin-lations.’”

David Kosslyn ’11, who attended high school along the River at Buckingham Browne and Nichols (which, he jokes, sounds like a law firm), also mentions that he is sensitive about “dropping the H-Bomb,” by which he means informing a non-Harvard affiliate of his Ivy League affiliation.

Even in casual interactions with friends, the “Big H” tends to rear its head. “I’m kind of in that entitled environment, but I’m also from the area,” says another local student, Benjamin J. Likis ’13. “[My friends] tease me and put me in these weird situations, but it’s all in good fun.”

The awkwardness of the H-bomb is not unique to Cambridge locals, but the severity of the blast is greater, locals say.

This is in part because for many locals, Harvard has been a part of their lives even in high school, with programs including dual enrollment at the Harvard Extension School, funding for sports teams, and demonstrations at the Science Center. Alan A. Ibrahim ’11, who grew up in Cambridge, and Likis both participated in an after-school program known as the Breakthrough Collaborative that connected students with college tutors and mentors, many of them Harvard students. “Some of my most prominent mentors, and most influential figures were Harvard students,” says Likis, who volunteered with the group after high school.

But a general consensus among the students was that the influence of Harvard on their high school experiences was limited. Joseph P. Carebello, Director of Guidance at Matignon High School, emphasizes his school’s desire to have a greater partnership with the University. “We would love to have the students know we are here,” he says.

INDEPENDENCE

Whether it is managing interactions with parents, avoiding the temptation of going home to do laundry, or simply trying out new activities in a familiar environment, Cambridge residents have the added challenge of establishing independence when going to school in their hometown. On top of that, they have to reimagine a familiar place as something novel—something which students from farther away do not have to deal with.

“Many [high school] students go right through the Harvard campus every day,” Dean of Admissions and Financial Aid William R. Fitzsimmons ’67 says of local high schoolers who matriculate. In the admissions process, “One thing we have

to convince them is that their experience would be different enough,” Fitzsimmons says.

A Computer Science concentrator in Eliot House, Kosslyn has some familiarity with Harvard’s resources. His high school’s Advanced Placement Computer Science class shared Harvard’s facilities, and he processed data for a University astrophysics lab over a summer. But Kosslyn, who is regularly within a mile of his parents, jokes that he acts as if his parents live in a different city. “I didn’t want to fall into that trap,” he says, referring to other locals he knew who stayed within the local community that they knew instead of making many friends at college.

Others, though, have been surprised at how new the old space seemed once they walked on campus as an enrolled student. Paterson, who had only ever been in the Science Center, said that he feels like Harvard is on a different plane than what he is used to, especially with regards to the social scene. “It feels like even though I literally grew up in this exact neighborhood, it feels like a different neighborhood because I’m living a completely different lifestyle,” he says.

Likis also felt new to campus in many ways. “I still didn’t know where the buildings were or [where] my classes were,” he says, reflecting on his freshman year. He notes that going into shopping period, he had the same feelings of anonymity and confusion as his non-local classmates.

Sometimes Likis does “feel a little bit stagnant, or isolated” having been in the same place for so long, he says. But to counter this, and to get adjusted to the new University lifestyle, Likis went out of his way to try activities that were new to him. “I’m trying to get the most out of my life in college, and as much as I can have a new experience in college.”

GRADUATING TO THE BACK(YARD)

Many Harvard students from Cambridge seriously considered attending college elsewhere, and many said that they did not have any preconceptions about remaining in the Square. Palange recalls “feeling rebellious” in resisting the pressure to apply to Harvard. But eventually, at the urging of her parents and guidance counselors, she did. “Fine I’ll apply to Harvard,” Palange recalls saying, “but my heart is with Georgetown.”

“[It was] not a serious consideration in my mind,” she adds of her plans at the time. “My thought was that I wanted to get out of Cambridge.”

However, after making no real connections with prospective students in the nation’s capital, Palange gave Harvard another try. “It was actually a funny turn of events, but I signed up for four more years of Cambridge,” she says, sitting in her House’s dining hall, with a smile.

Likis and Paterson also initially considered leaving Cambridge and expressed interest in colleges on the West Coast. But they later decided that the perks of the East Coast were more advantageous than the mild winters of California. To Paterson, the academics ultimately made the choice to attend Harvard a “no brainer.”

UN-COMMON APPLICATION

Other locals, however, have long-harbored dreams of attending Harvard. “Since I’ve been a little kid I’ve always wanted to go to Harvard,” says Ibrahim, an economics concentrator in Kirkland House who attended Cambridge Rindge and Latin. To Ibrahim, Harvard’s proximity was a constant reminder of this goal.

This is the type of enthusiasm Fitzsimmons says he hopes the University will inspire in local high school students. Fitzsimmons, who also serves as chair of the admissions office’s Greater

Boston subcommittee that looks at the applications of Cambridge residents, says he is proud of the outreach the University has been doing. “We had the best year in modern history with students admitted from Cambridge Rindge and Latin School,” says Fitzsimmons.

“It’s important for us that we’re a part of this community and we make this community better in any way we can. One way we can do that is by educating local students,” he explains.

And when Paterson says that “it seems that Harvard really likes Cambridge kids,” he is on to something. “We give a tip for Boston and Cambridge residents, and we say this very publicly,” Fitzsimmons says. “It’s one of those little tiebreakers. All other factors being equal, we will tip into the class someone [from Cambridge or Boston].”

Yet a Cambridge birth certificate is far from instant swipe access to the University. Some of the Cambridge residents interviewed for this story were initially wait-listed. Many qualified students from Matignon High School were rejected, adds Graves.

Indeed, Harvard’s outreach to local schools is not even. Nadira A. Hairston, the only college counselor at the Community Charter School of Cambridge, says she has never had a student accepted to Harvard. And in the six years of the school’s operation, Hairston says that not a single Harvard recruiter has visited the institution. “If we had admissions reps to come in and explain that, that would help,” says Hairston, describing how many of the immigrant families that attend the schools are unaware of the academic requirements and the application process in general.

UNOFFICIAL AMBASSADORS

Palange recalled hearing from a Cambridge police officer about how the police force is somewhat resentful of Harvard students, especially of those who use mommy and daddy to get them out of trouble when the local officers lay down the law.

“As Cambridge residents it’s obviously the thing that’s taking over,” Palange says as she reflects on her initial impressions of the University. Since attending Harvard, however, she says her opinion has taken a complete 180, and hopes that more and more Cambridge residents will realize that most people at the University do not match the stereotype.

Paterson, however, has a less stark view of Harvard’s relations with its surrounding population. He says that many of his friends have come to realize that most people at Harvard are “really down to earth” and maintains that there is a positive relationship developing between Harvard and the surrounding neighborhood. Students, however, expressed the overall sentiment that while Harvard is doing its part there is much more work to be done to improve their relationship with the community.

“PBHA is doing its part,” says Ibrahim, referring to the Phillips Brooks House Association, a service organization, “but I think that it’s not enough. Not enough people do PBHA programs.” Ibrahim shares the view of other Cambridge students that not enough people at Harvard take the time to fully immerse themselves in the community, confining themselves solely to Harvard Square and neglecting to see the diversity and challenges in the larger area.

“I want to change the world at some point, and I want to start in Cambridge/Boston and spread out,” says Ibrahim.

“[We] should be able to realize that there is more to our college life than these things that only deal with ourselves,” says Ibrahim. “We have this obligation to the community, just to give back.”

And Cantabrigian students often find themselves acting as unofficial ambassadors, conveying to members of the community at large that not all Harvard students are cut-throat, uppity  bookworms. But this role becomes difficult at times when encountering instances of elitism; despite the progress in relationship-building, some students still see the persistence of elitism and the “Harvard douchebag” who purposely does not want to get to know the city.

“They just have tunnel vision, they don’t understand that there is so much more Cambridge,” says Palange of the stereotypical student. “Nochs” and “The Kong,” she says, are terms purely invented by undergrads. Most Cambridge residents refer to the restaurants by their full names. And Harvard students’ tendency to refer to Harvard Square as “the Square” is often grating to locals, for whom the other five squares within Cambridge all have equal claim to the article “the.”

“Taking the time to explore all different parts of Cambridge is completely worth their while,” says Palange. “Each little pocket is almost like its own city, which is really, really, cool.”

Likis describes the Cambridge most Harvard students experience as only a “snapshot” of the city, with most people assuming that as a Cambridge resident his parents had to be University affiliates. “I hope that people realize that there is a city outside of Harvard,” he says.

“Whenever I’m out with my friends and we are not in Harvard Square, they always ask me if we are still in Cambridge,” says Ibrahim. “[Even in] Kendall Square, and I’ll be like no we’re in Cambridge, like, Jesus,” he says.

Having the dual “insider-outsider” perspective on College-community relations means that many Cantabridgian students see Harvard as an extension, rather than a replacement of their Cambridge identity.

“It is awkward sometimes for me,” says Likis. “This is my home and just because I go to Harvard I don’t lose the right to call Cambridge my home. I would just hope that people would do their best to actually engage in the community, and not just see Cambridge as a place of residence for the time being.”

—Julie M. Zauzmer contributed to the reporting of this story.