Word: buttings
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Before I wrote the second draft of this parting shot, my best friend and I sat down on our common-room floor and had another one of our by-now ritual conversations. It didn’t involve anthropologists. Instead, we talked about the realizations we had come to at...
Although I grew to love many things at Harvard over the years, I loved most the conversations I had with my friends, classmates, housemates, tutors, teaching fellows, and professors. Every conversation I had helped me think—about mothers in China and daughters in Russia, about the bonds between...
Such conversations have allowed some of us to touch ground on the doorsteps of a professional school or a consulting firm—our new homes—but not all of us can see the door of our home-to-be. We, the latter group of people, have to...
When my feet neither hit the ground nor dangle in the air, but point upward, I have time to reflect on my journey. I cannot navel gaze—because that would hurt my head—nor can I be oblivious to the dangers along the road, but I...
For some students, leaving Harvard—sometimes with a check in hand—will be like getting a divorce settlement, but I will always carry this place with me, even if I don’t think of it consciously. Like the bride being carried among the fields...