Walking into Sanders, no one quite knows what to make of the scene. The hall that has in its time hosted heads of state, great debaters, dignitaries, scholars, and presidents, is now blasting Enrique Iglesias. While the music calls for a mosh pit, the audience is reserved, but a buzz of excitement swells in the air. “I hear she’s sweet,” one girl whispers to her friend, who replies, “I hope she dresses like she did on Desperate Housewives.”
When the name Eva Longoria is mentioned, some gab about who her character cheated with two seasons ago and if that dress color was really the right choice at the Emmys last year. Not often enough is her name brought into conversation with higher education, philanthropy, and cultural awareness. Thankfully, those in charge of Cultural Rhythms didn’t just cast her off as a good reason to waste a few hours on Lifetime reruns Sunday afternoons. They did their research and in turn discovered an intelligent, well-informed activist who has something to give to Harvard.
Before attending this event, I have no idea what exactly I’m in for. And apparently I’m not alone. While many official-looking people show up in suits, skirts, and other painfully appropriate business casual attire, most of the students (particularly freshmen) don’t get the dress code memo. “There are a lot of people dressed in nice clothes here,” one sweatpants-clad girl observes. “To be honest, I’m not even wearing a bra right now.”
After another 20 minutes of Enrique, our student hosts run out, one wearing a sherwani to reflect his South Asian and Bengali heritage, the other draped in a fleur de lis patterned shawl indicative of her Creole ancestry. They introduce the MC as someone who’s on our dollar bills, and I immediately think a George Washington costume is headed our way. Alas, no costume, but, fortunately, something better. Rosie Rios, Treasurer of the United States, gracefully struts out, and she serves as a poised and impressive middleman between student performances. Maybe next week Joe Biden can host the Acapella Jam?
After a lot more chutzpah and some skillfully edited montages, Eva finally makes her grand entrance. Dressed in a sleek grey cocktail dress and six-inch heels with subtly bright red soles, she emerges smiling, sophisticated, and humble. As she watches performance after performance, her grin never fades, the Louboutins relaxing elegantly beneath her grandiose chair. It’s pretty difficult to seem down-to-earth when sitting atop a throne on display in Sanders, but she manages well. In her remarks, she mentions her mother, upbringing, and, most touchingly, her sister, who is developmentally disabled. She reflects upon how her personal connection to this issue inspired her to start Eva’s Heroes, a charity that provides stability to those in such a position. After accepting her award, Eva unfortunately rushes out, racing a blizzard to catch her plane back to Hollywood. Thanks, Snowpocalypse.
As I glance from the sherwani to the sweats to the stilettos, I can’t help but appreciate the array of students, faculty, and locals who otherwise would never find themselves in the same room on a Saturday at four o’clock. As mentioned in the opening speeches, we are “one Harvard.” The diversity, from ethnicity to age to interests to outfit, is undeniable. And isn’t that the point of Cultural Rhythms?
