Writer
Sarah J. Schaffer
Latest Content
We Will Be Read
Five years ago, former Crimson editorial chair Sarah J. Schaffer ’97 wrote her final article as an executive for The
Seeking the Tangible
I knew it had to happen eventually. But in this summer of flux, between Commencement and a hard place, the
We Will Go Home Again
S an Diego has been my home for all my life. But when I came to Harvard, I didn't think
Leaving Hallowed Ground
As I walk through the Yard on a pink evening when the air rests heavily on the trees and the
What Needs to Be Done
T his Harvard of ours offers many advantages: baked brie at masters' teas, weekly lectures on arcane subjects and the
Seeking Money for Memorial Hall
Looking out the window of my fifth-floor Currier House room on a clear day, I can see the landmarks of
Making A House A Home
The day my seven blockmates and I were randomized into Currier House three years ago, I thought my life was
Drinks Before, Not After
A recipe for dinner the evening you attend the Hasty Pudding Show: lots of protein. Lots of drink. And lots
Where the Intellectuals Are
At Harvard, a place known for its scholarship, it is ironically all too easy to forget the academic and the
Dismal TFs Unworthy of Harvard
You would think that for $30,000 a year, we could get a better education than apathetic graduate students teaching eager
Shuttle Bus Redux
In November 1995 in this space, I wrote a scathing piece about the Harvard Shuttle Services. I cursed the powers-that-be
THE U.C. DEBATE
A political debate does not tell you much about the people involved. It rewards those who exude charisma and speak
RETURN TO CAPRA
From all evidence, Harvard Square merchants are already dreaming of a white Christmas--and the Thanksgiving turkeys have not even been
GANDHI ON A MOUNTAIN BIKE
Civil disobedience is the order of the day for bicyclists. The Cambridge Police Department recently increased enforcement of rules applying
A Bookworm's Confession
Lately, in quest of a thesis, I have been spending a lot of time in Harvard's libraries: the quiet, dimly
