Posts Tagged ‘harvard’

Anger: SCC

Posted: June 18, 2012 in Ramblings
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I’m on an email list serv with the coolest people from our class of 2010…if you believe that class marshall voting is of substance.

To make a long story short, I don’t fit in with them…and I shouldn’t. I was appointed because I was fundraising chair not a “cool” kid who bested his peers. However, I do still get pissed off when this shit happens.

Pretty much everyone on the list gets a birthday shout-out, except for me. I know I have zero school spirit, but I’ve either hooked up with, fundraised with or was somehow in a few mutual friend circles. I shouldnt care and probably should remove myself from the list, but I haven’t. In a way, this example is how I feel about my social life at Harvard.

And if it wasn’t clear, save for my block mates and the bcl, I hated Harvard entre social scene/construct.

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Princeton….

Posted: May 22, 2012 in Videos
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Umm, so the crux of this video is that Princeton is a great school…but there are no job prospects. Wompwomp. Harvard >>>Yale>>>>> Princeton but you already knew that

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=YDhf9qwiA34

Ivy Blue – Oprah has been named godmother of Ivy Blue (spawn of Jay-Z and Beyonce) Oh La La – Chanel built a life-sized plan for their couture show #yesyesyesyes
Hated It – Lady Gaga starts a foundation at Harvard because it’s Harvard…please just go away
Honey, No! – Tim Gunn hasn’t had sex in nearly 30 years. YIKES!
GrooveShark Sued – I love this site, and can’t believe (but I can) that it is being sued…for billions

Angry Post: School Pride

Posted: November 16, 2011 in Ramblings
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Why is it that I feel this sense of annoyance when I talk about Harvard at work that no one wants to hear me ‘brag’? I really don’t talk about it in the ‘oh it was so great’ kind of way, but in the ‘we are all nerds’ and let’s play to the self-deprecating stereotypes way.

The upcoming Harvard-Yale game is really the only time I’m vaguely interested in sports or college athletics. Yet I know that I have to moderate when I talk about it. Today in the elevator, there was that awkward ‘I didn’t get in to Harvard undergrad’ moment. Honestly, it’s probably a good thing you went where you did. You wound up in the same place as me, so it’s not so bad that you avoided all of the negatives associated with Harvard and you get to have school pride.

I guess I’m not that angry because it does make sense why it might be in poor taste to talk about it too much. But, when people talk about NYC prep schools and make statements comparing them – and I know where my shitty public school fits in, I get the feeling too. But no one says ‘oh you’re being elitist because you won’t date someone from X prep school or never socialized with people from Y school.’ Or what about when your VP says that ‘American football is so unrefined’ and compares it to squash, a sport she is happy her son enjoys. Ma’am, your classism is showing.

I guess I find it hard to reconcile (and likely because of my race sensitivities) why a black kid from very modest means has to down play his elite education (4 years of his life) and you make no apologies for your own privileged life?

Occupy Yale | We are the 6%

Posted: November 15, 2011 in Everything
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I just brought this as a reversible pinnie. I probably should grow up, but a mesh jersey! How fratastic.

 

 

Happy 375th Harvard!

Posted: October 16, 2011 in Everything
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via Thought Catalog

Look around campus and realize the breadth of notable alumnus: a slew of former U.S. Presidents, ambassadors, authors, artists, and CEOs. Jump at the thought that some of said luminaries may have lived in your room, down the hall, or sat in your chair in your classroom.

Scream and hyperventilate when you rip open the suspiciously small yet life changing envelope from [insert dream Ivy League school]. You fucking made it, the sweetest revenge of nerds – all those volunteer hours, independent research projects, school government elections, concert recitals, team practices and late SAT studying sessions finally paid off. Say HASTA LA VISTA BABY to homogeneous white suburban Nowheresville and run towards the pearly white Ivy gates. Never look back.

Lug in misshapen shapes of cardboard from your overflowing minivan and move in. Look around campus and realize the breadth of notable alumnus: a slew of former U.S. Presidents, ambassadors, authors, artists, and CEOs. Jump at the thought that some of said luminaries may have lived in your room, down the hall, or sat in your chair in your classroom. Realize you’re dorming with princes, published authors, national chess champions, political dynastic darlings, computer whizzes, and Julliard violin virtuosos. Mentally backtrack to your curriculum vitae and cringe at the thought of their resumes eating your Salutatorian/captain of the tennis team/volunteer work-resume for breakfast.

Realize a month in that you’re also surrounded by a smorgasbord of coke heads, slutty sorority girls with daddy issues, brawny bros and the general stereotypical douchebaggery that exists at any college. Wonder why these bros can never win in any real sports except for country club recreational activities such as fencing, archery, or tennis. Don’t believe your roommate when she mentions that the Ivy League was originally formed for athletics. Never understand why this one elitist brotherhood bond is the one area all Ivy Leagues communally suck at.

Look forward to your classes, which range from “Nazism in Performance,” “Algebraic Topology,” to “Cultural History of Japanese Monsters.” Try to take them all not only because you wrote in your college application that you’re so “well rounded” but because you want to fuck with your future job employer who will scan your transcript, see said classes, and have multiple WTF moments. Realize your Nobel prize winning professor can’t actually teach (since when is mumbling to the chalkboard an effective method?). Be exasperated by how many professors can’t actually speak English and blend their words into indistinguishable slurs. Wonder how you’re going to pass any of your classes. Be surprised that the TA leading class discussion on Friday mornings is surprisingly more competent.

Write a paper in class that you actually care about. Stare at the unmistakably legible B- in red ink on your paper three weeks later. That’s right, that B- just bitchslapped your two all-nighters and the borderline toxic amount of pills of Adderall. Be unable to comprehend because you’ve never maintained lower than a 4.03 in high school. Stress out. Wonder if you have what it takes to even pass this intro course. Stress out. Proceed to the dining hall to unlimited self-serve ice cream line to add on multiple pounds that you pray will disappear after going to the gym. Go online and sign up for a guaranteed-A class (i.e. Physics for Poets, Intro to Spanish). Realize you’re going to need to fill up half your schedule with these. End up never going to the gym because the Ivy League life is soo demanding. Wait, have you always been this stressed? Realize next semester that these classes aren’t actually easy. Realize in the future that it doesn’t matter because your Ivy League college inflates grades more than the annual hot air balloon fiesta in Albuquerque.

Revolve your schedule around a parade of student activities meetings, events with free food (thank God for cultural clubs), and study dates with that cute babe from your “really hard” class (it doesn’t matter if he understands the concepts either). Organize a fashion show for a cultural club, start and complete your 50 page thesis on the influence of Internet censorship and social networking in post-modern China, give a 30-minute class presentation on the the tyranny of the majority in Tocqueville’s Democracy in America, get wasted on cheap beer and expensive wine at a JPMorgan info session all in one week – and somehow do this all with elite-ordained aplomb. If the Ivy League taught you one thing, it’s that you can have it all and then some, RIGHT? Right.

Go apeshit before every spring break, not because of midterms, but because all your fellow classmates received summer offers to either intern at the White House alongside Kal Penn, research in Eritrea for their thesis called something along the lines of “The Role of Sustainable Development in the Aggregate Spatial Strategies of Confluence,” crunch numbers at Goldman Sachs (Bateman-esque i-bankers or traders need only apply), or intern at W Magazine as an editorial slave to Stefano Tonchi. If you’re not curing AIDS or climbing Mount Everest (or both), you’re obviously not fully utilizing your Ivy pedigree. Furiously scroll through your college’s career site desperately applying for admin/assistant/ANY position to obscure “startup” companies. Smile and shrug nonchalantly when asked about said internship. Curse and watch your self-worth plummet to a similar level when you did the walk of shame in 4 inch heels across campus and saw your really hot urban & politics professor. Mentally note to never sit in front of that class again.

Remember the days you smoked hookah (amongst other substances) with your friends during that sunny afternoon on the quad despite having two looming papers due the next day. Remember listening to famous activists/musicians/political heavyweights at the staggering amount of alumnus speaker series (OMG wasn’t Jeffrey Sachs amazing? Bill Clinton was only just okay. Al Gore was better last year). Remember your dexterous ability to debate the epistemological underpinnings of Kant and Nietzsche in class in the morning and at a drunken yoga party later at night. Remember packing your pillow, chugging your Starbucks venti coffee double shot of espresso, carrying three cans of Redbull (you don’t enter the library without backup, duh) and dragging what’s left of your soul to the library for a 72-hour finals marathon of word vomiting and anxiety attacks. Remember looking around and seeing everyone doing the same.

Remember the way your parents cheered you on when they saw you walking down with cap and gown. Remember that they couldn’t go to college and came to a strange new country so YOU could achieve the American dream. You did this for them, remember? Turn around, catch a glimpse, give an insanely big grin shedding some tears. Look around at all of the relieved and shining faces at Class Day and scream inside, I went to an Ivy League, bitch!

If you ever wondered what the Ivy League is like, this piece really does capture it in a way that I think nearly all of my peers would attest is truthful. The bolded statements are especially truthful.

You all know how much love I have for Eleganza and it was my ‘thing’ – it helped me meet new people, find out what I actually enjoy doing and land an internship and full time job!

My most lasting memory associated with ‘ganza is associated with this song, as it’s one of many remixed popular songs that recreate the visualize of the show. In this section, it was Nightmare and EVW was walking down the runway with an umbrella; all hell broke loose after as the scene devolved into a beautifully dark and twisted visualization of a dream gone awry.

The myriad of things that I have learned from the show in no particular order nor exhaustive:

  • Leadership style: Tyrannical
  • Navigating the politics of beauty and social (to some extent, financial) capital
  • Fashion isn’t everything but sometimes it feels that way
  • Managing people is tough, and figuring out people’s motivations
  • Creativity and analytics can go hand in hand
  • Hustle, hustle, hustle

It’s times like these that I remember how much I enjoyed graduating from college, and how dynamic life had become (the flux of new/old friendships).

I actually find that the two speeches given during Class Day, of the humorous variety – Ivy Orations – always hits the salient, nostalgic feel good ‘we are one’ moments.

I will never forget that life is indeed like an elevator….

..nor that we’ve all sucked the same forks.

I can’t help but be biased towards these speeches, as I did help choose them and I relive the experience of laugh out loud funniness of that perfectly timed Boloco reference.

via SP

Dear Mather 2010,

Commencement is afoot here at fair Harvard, and the Cambridge spring morning is as crisp and lovely as it’s ever been. From my perch here in our glorious tower, I can see so much beauty: rowers on the Charles, the sun’s glimmer on the water, the gentle breeze rattling the trees. It’s all so lovely.

But all I can think of at this moment is how full my heart was exactly one year ago at this time as we walked the path from 10 Cowperthwaite one last time together. It was the moment that every Housing Day march had been a rehearsal for, one last time for us to come together as a house and celebrate the great memories we shared and the greater promise we held.

A year has passed since then, and doubtless we’ve all left for new lives in new places. We’re teaching in tough schools, or we’re toiling in the boardroom, or we’re stretching ourselves in graduate school, or we’re risking everything on a start-up, or we’re doing any of the other million billion things a person can do after leaving this place. We’ve moved on to bigger and better things. As well we should.

But for one brief moment, let me call you back from the bright future (or, more likely, ceaseless gruntwork) that awaits you for a reminder: Wherever you came from before and wherever you are now and wherever you’ll go in the future, you spent some of your best years in the finest house of the finest university in the galaxy. And that is something to be thankful for.

Let me pass on one more reminder, as well. Mather House will always be here; nuclear-holocaust-proof, brutalist 1970s architecture has assured us of this much. But lest you think that friendships are made of the same stuff as our sweet, gray fortress, beware: Most relationships, even those forged amidst and in and by the impenetrable stuff of this place, need a bit more maintenance than concrete. Most friendships are more porous and slightly less unshakable, though they do smell better on Saturday mornings than the low-rise.

So take a moment one year out from graduation to rekindle a friendship that, over the past year in your new life, you’ve neglected a little bit. (Bonus points if it’s me.) Send an email or make a call or tweet a tweet or linkedin a linkedin. But reach out to the people you care about — especially if those people are in Mather 2010 — so that in two years and five years and ten years and 25 years, your friendships will still look like the House that nurtured them: rugged, soaring monuments to love and the power of community.

Yours in fun, friendship and that most powerful affection of all — Mather Love —

SP

(your 2010 class committee rep)

I find this email to be so perfectly timed, and a nice form of treatment for my post-graduation angst re: making new friends, moving on from college, adjusting to the work world, etc. It’s just so perfect. Also, you can substitute any community in lieu of Mather and this email really should make you emotional.

#Twitter: @Humblebrag

Posted: June 1, 2011 in Tweets
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RT @M_E_Winstead: You often hear actresses say "I lose roles for being too beautiful." I don’t ever get that. But I do get "too classy" and "too strong". Hmm.

RT @TheNatFantastic: Dear Santa. I know it’s early but I really want a male friend I’ve known for years that doesn’t eventually confess they love me. Ta mate x

RT @fionafong: Is it embarrassing that I’m dying to see the World’s Largest Dinosaurs exhibit at the Natural History Museum? I miss dinos class at Harvard!

RT @fionafong: Can you believe that its already been 3 years since I donned my gown and cap and received my Harvard diploma??? #harvardclassof2008 #imsoold

via The Daily What

Toothpaste for Dinner

I heard they do this at Harvard? Sadly, I have no knowledge of this practice.

Harvard > Ur faves (-1) – Top 10 Dream Colleges, where Harvard, NYU come after Stanford

Ga(y)ndhi? – Apparently, Gandhi had a man-love thing with a German body builder

Maya! – Finally, they’re going to let Maya Rudolph be great

Target v Gays – You may have heard that GaGa backed out of a deal with Target because they’re not inclusive of her ‘lil monsters’ base and now more stuff

You’re going to Hell – Someone turned down a ‘Make A Wish’ request, the world got livid, lives were changed and ruined, right? Maybe not.

RHoDC is Dunzo – OH. NO. Real Housewives of DC is no mas. Boooooo. I liked them, they were more interesting than Miami.

The Onion – Harvard, Gays

Posted: March 21, 2011 in Everything
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Burden Of Parental Expectation Available In Youth Sizes

Burden Of Parental Expectation Available In Youth Sizes

 

Small town throws parade for their one gay resident.

Privilege x Wine

Posted: December 24, 2010 in Ramblings
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via Tough Privileged Life

I know that I write about white privilege a lot, but I also have to admit that anyone who has the things normally conferred to white people that lends itself to privilege can be said of similar groups (i.e. Harvard grads, affluent and well-educated people of any race).

On this note, I bring you two gifts.

1.
tumblr_lcqm96fQQm1qekmq9o1_500.jpg

2.

White W(h)ine – Similar to the Twitter account @yesimwaspy and @whitegrlproblms, this site collects tales of white privilege at its best:

I am constantly amazed by how incredibly rude people are…apparently the fact that I was in the first class line because I have a first class ticket meant nothing to the woman who cut in front of me – Facebook