Nearly every conversation among Harvard students has been dominated by the view that returning home is a negative. We’ve heard that time zones, internet access, family situations, and even sheer boredom will make this semester difficult to complete. These are serious concerns, and it is to the College’s credit that it has taken steps to alleviate them.

In these dark times, however, there’s also a silver lining.

Right now, more Harvard students are likely at home than at any time since before we started college. There are no internships to run off to, no research projects to stay on campus for, no vacations to experience with our friends. Instead, we are back in the places where we started. At home, with our parents, siblings, and perhaps friends, we are spending more time with the people who turned us into who we are today.

These few months are a special opportunity. We have the opportunity to marry the aspirations and values that originally inspired us before entering Harvard with the knowledge and determination that we have gained in school.

Our homes remind us of our common humanity. Behind our math psets and social studies readings are the same mundane concerns that bind us to everyone else. We are spread out around every corner of the globe, but we share the same anxieties about the wellbeing of our families amid social distancing and uncertainties over our collective futures. We might take this time to pause and consider ourselves as part of a larger whole.

When we do so, we can appreciate that there truly is a story behind each of us. The annoying background noises in our Zoom classes tell those stories — the struggles, challenges, and proud moments that paved our meandering paths to Harvard. We could all take some time to appreciate the screaming siblings, unkempt beds, and oddly colored walls behind our peers in class. These little quirks pierce through the aura of exceptionalism which on campus can make Harvard feel like an impersonal ivory tower.

Perhaps that is the greatest irony of social distancing: that in this moment of intense isolation, we actually recognize the self-preoccupation that characterizes our college lives. On campus, we find ourselves so busy with the next exam, the next paper deadline, and the next interview that we take our classmates and roommates for granted. Now, when we have the privilege of near-infinite time — by Harvard standards, that is — to focus on those mundane problems, we often find ourselves longing for the affirming presence of our peers.

On campus, amid the hullabaloo of classes, thesis writing, and internship searches, we often see our successes and struggles at Harvard as a distinct phase in our life, separate from our upbringing. It’s as if walking through Johnston Gate clears the canvas of our life so a new set of pastels can color our future. Now, the advent of coronavirus is forcing us to reconcile these two versions of ourselves.

Many can probably relate to the way we both thought, before we started as freshmen, that our Harvard education would help us change the world. Yet despite these aspirations, the effect of college has been to tamp down these passions in favor of supposedly more realistic and achievable pursuits. This time at home might remind us of the limitless potential that our starry-eyed teenage selves dreamed of fulfilling.

Harvard is indeed a transformative place, but too much time there can be stifling. Returning home has given us clarity to think about what kind of people we are and what values we want to hold for ourselves. While we reflect on our present and our past, we might also ponder what those values hold for the future.

When we eventually graduate into the uncertainty of the world changed by the coronavirus, this reminder of what we wanted to do and who we wanted to be can help guide us, not just through the choices we make at Harvard, but also through the rest of our lives.

Etched above Dexter Gate are famous words that have inspired generations of students before us. As we enter Harvard Yard, the gate tells us: “Enter to grow in wisdom.” As we exit onto Massachusetts Avenue, it reminds us: “Depart to serve better thy country and thy kind.” The years we’ve spent at Harvard have hopefully given us some wisdom. The hours we now spend at our childhood desks give us ample time to think about how to use that wisdom to serve the communities that shape us, now and in the future. We are a product of both our Harvard experience and our childhoods at home.

Humza I. Jilani ’21 is a Social Studies concentrator in Winthrop House. Alexander S. “Sandy” Koenig ’21 is a History concentrator in Winthrop House.