Last week, one of my politically active friends revealed to me that he was growing discouraged from engaging in substantive political discourse on campus, citing the criticism and contempt he often faced upon voicing his opinion. He, like myself, and many other conservatives on campus, had begun to feel as though his ideology was no longer valid, a remnant of a time gone by. He felt, for lack of a better term, silenced.

Harvard loves to tout its statistics on diversity, and for good reason: From race to class to gender to orientation, the oldest university in the nation is also among the most inclusive. But when it comes to political heterogeneity, the numbers speak for themselves. A Crimson survey put the percentage of conservatives in the class of 2018 at 15.7 percent, and the class of 2017 is not far behind at 15 percent. While these numbers most likely stem from a self-selection rather than an admissions bias, editorial attempts at satire like Warning: Do Not Enroll certainly don’t attempt to alleviate this culture of exclusivity.

I didn’t heed their advice, however, and enrolled at Harvard as an uninformed, apathetic conservative, who throughout high school was far more concerned with getting into a school like this than I was with developing a political ideology. My parents had always been right-leaning, due in part to their operation of a small family business, so I suppose I inherited many of my political tenets from them. As a result, I rarely if ever thought critically about the positions I held. But that quickly changed here in Cambridge.

Arriving a week early for the Freshman Urban Program in the autumn of 2013, I nervously bid farewell to my taxi and was bombarded by a group of purple-clad upperclassmen flaunting signs daring passers-by to “Honk If You Hate Reagan!” I spent the week burying even my very moderate convictions deep below the surface, hoping ideology would trend towards the center as more students arrived on campus.

Oftentimes friends from home will question how I withstand the pressure, incessantly encountering liberal undertones and sometimes, even a complete disregard for my core beliefs. I’ll admit, upon arrival it was very hard. Hard to hear my professors use the term “Republican” in a derogatory manner. Hard to face ridicule when enthusiastically describing an encounter with Senator John S. McCain last spring. Hard to be asked to defend some obscure representative’s comments that I found equally outrageous. So eventually I just stopped talking about it.

But the more time I spend on campus, the more content I am to find myself in the ideological minority. My experience at Harvard has prevented me from constructing the echo chamber so many people in both parties fall into, only reading and discussing sources that reinforce their own beliefs. There simply aren’t enough conservatives here for that to prove a sustainable social model. Rather, continuously fending off attacks on my beliefs has strengthened those I hold true, and forced me to discard inaccurate doctrine. Some of the most meaningful discussions I have had were initiated by one of my liberal roommates questioning one of my principles. Occasionally we would arrive at an impasse, but the vast majority of the time the frequency with which we agreed was a pleasant surprise.

I realize full well that my relative discomfort is trivial compared to the struggles many others face on campus, and that a few communities are becoming increasingly open to challenging conversations. But for Harvard to truly embrace its mission of “respecting ideas and their free expression,” students and faculty alike must acknowledge that the culture on campus is not currently reflective of the ideals claiming to be espoused. Liberals who dismissively reject conservatism at first glance are themselves embracing the very dogma of close-mindedness they tend to associate with the GOP. Harvard allows Democrats the opportunity of four years to imagine they comprise 85 percent of the nation, but a harsh reality awaits following graduation. If we as a nation ever hope to break through the gridlock that is holding Washington hostage, institutions of higher learning must cultivate a new generation of leaders who are willing to reach across the aisle and restore our democracy.

Declan P. Garvey ’17, a Crimson editorial writer, lives in Mather House.