Harvard students, faculty, and staff are undoubtedly living through the oddest circumstances that the institution has ever faced. At a place so deeply steeped in history and tradition, seismic changes, like the ones we face today, reverberate with ferocity. This type of change usually means discomfort. However, it can also mean discovery and growth.

During this time of transition, I have found myself reflecting on the academic changes and the resulting mix of discomfort and growth. The discomfort is obvious — technical difficulty, access issues, time zones, exam logistics, etc. The unprecedented decision to shift grades to an emergency satisfactory-unsatisfactory system is a testament to these highly unfavorable situations. However, there are areas of positive growth that could change our academic experiences for the better. Classes at home create a natural experiment in which Harvard students are now able to learn without the ever-present pressure we feel from our peers. They present the chance to discover and strengthen our own love of learning for learning’s sake.

While the disadvantages of “online Harvard” are seemingly innumerable, little attention has been paid to the significant advantages. At home, for instance, you do not hear the ever-present dining hall chatter about being awake for x hours getting x pages written or completing x problem sets that count for x percent of your grade. Until I got home, I did not have the slightest idea of how mentally taxing this kind of chatter is on both my focus and my confidence. It creates a dynamic of comparison and competition.

In libraries we see students awake until the morning, wondering if we can push ourselves to do the same. In passing conversations, we wonder if we could be as busy as our friend, if we could maintain that type of schedule. In post-class conversations, we compare grades, hours worked on assignments, and the difficulty or ease with which we complete tasks.

On campus, we are creatures of heightened comparison. Our comparisons fuel unrealistic expectations, feelings of inadequacy, and frankly, mental and physical exhaustion. Most of all, however, these comparisons suck the joy out of learning.

At home, however, the chatter has subsided. At home, I cannot socially monetize the hours spent on my problem set. At home, I just learn.

This is true outside of my classes as well. Extracurricular pursuits, whether affiliated with Harvard or not, are now done in the privacy of our homes. We cannot compare the hours spent at practice or in meetings. Now, if we do these things, we do them out of our own initiative, for our own joy.

Harvard students have the unprecedented chance to execute their studies and activities in private, away from the only cohort in the world that would give value to the hours spent or the number of meetings attended. This gives us the unparalleled chance to learn for learning's sake, without the insidious tendencies to compare ourselves to the chatter that inundates our daily lives on campus.

It is important to note, however, that this is an opportunity extended to certain students more than others. Many will have to care for ill family members, lack the internet to properly participate, or face circumstances that make their studies secondary. Though they may not be able to pursue this time to learn without the toxicity we so absently create on campus, I hope, at the very least, that every student notes the peace we have gained from the absence of comparison.

Times of change are times of growth. As we complete the rest of our semester at home, I hope students note the good differences as well as the bad, and recognize the mentally taxing reality we created for ourselves on campus. In this way, the next time we are together, we can seek conversations that empower, not compare. We can choose that extra hour of sleep. We can realize our unique abilities to learn, regardless of what others do.

Carine M. Hajjar ’21, a Crimson Editorial editor, is a Government concentrator in Eliot House.