There’s a saying that goes, “There are two kinds of Harvard students: pointy students and round students.” This may sound a little weird, but after I first heard this analogy in freshman year, the Harvard landscape started to make a whole lot more sense to me. The saying suggests a pointy person is someone whose skills all funnel into one very specific point of interest. They earned their way through the grueling admissions process mostly, but not exclusively, because they have a unique, honed skill that sets them apart from the pack. These students are the musical savants or mathematical geniuses among us. Maybe Greg’s college essay wasn’t quite up to snuff, but he’s the international chess champion and brings a unique set of skills to the table.

A round person, on the other hand, doesn’t necessarily excel at one particular skill, but they’re fairly well equipped in a large number of areas. Katie can write a killer paper, perform complex calculations, and took piano lessons for a few years growing up. Her work may not be publishing ready yet, and she may not be starring in her own concierto, but she has a diverse set of talents.

Since the Harvard admissions trial began, and truthfully for quite some time before it, conversation has been abuzz about what makes an applicant “Harvard material.” Particularly, I have heard many students question whether student athletes fit the bill. In truth, however, athletes are pointy students like any other, and therefore do not deserve the position they’ve held in the discussion regarding Harvard’s admissions practices.

The unsatisfying truth is that there is no formula for a successful application to Harvard. Harvard seems to seek out pointy people and round people alike, and the standards for those categories are likely quite different. This distinction makes it near impossible to define a set list of necessary characteristics for a potential Harvard student because the admissions team values diverse talents among its students.

Throughout the admissions conversation, athletes have been unfairly grouped into the class of admitted students which includes legacies and children of donors. The tacit belief among many I have spoken to is that this portion of the student body constitute evidence of unfair admission standards, implying that they did not earn their spots at this school as other students did. Moreover, some believe these students are taking the spots of other, worthier candidates because they held this unfair advantage.

Athletes do not deserve to be lumped into this category. Athletes are pointy. Their uniquely honed skill is their athletic ability. I am not suggesting that athletes don’t have a multitude of other talents as well, they surely do, but those who were recruited were specifically selected because their athletic talent is a unique skill the University values. It makes just as much sense to consider athletic accomplishment in admissions as it does to consider if a student published a novel before they were 16 years old. Both are special qualifications that could make for a fitting addition to the Harvard community.

The talents, abilities, and mindsets brought to the student body by athletes aid in diversifying the College. Those who play team sports might be able to help infuse a group project with the values of cooperation and teamwork. A student who is accustomed to studying alone could truly benefit from their group-mate’s experience in working as a unit. A victory celebration after a big game, if made open and inclusive to other members of the student body, could provide a reprieve from studying for the student who had four midterms and a paper last week. Including students with different priorities, backgrounds, experiences, and values is crucial to making this campus a place where students can meet and learn from those unlike themselves.

This campus doesn’t need pointy students more than round students or vice versa. A fair mix of both contributes to making Harvard the special place that it is. Athletes are an important part of that puzzle, and they deserve to be here just as much as any other student.

Romy Dolgin ’21, a Crimson Editorial Comp Director, is a Linguistics concentrator in Lowell House.