Word: junior
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...time. Maybe 2009's America--the country that swooned over Susan Boyle--will respond to we're-all-in-this-together shows like Fox's underdog musical Glee or NBC's aptly named sitcom Community, about a diverse group of misfits getting a new start at a junior college...
...enjoyed premed courses like Organic Chemistry, he still found it hard to let go of the idea of becoming a teacher. His father was a high school science teacher, and Rosenthal was tempted to follow in his father’s footsteps. But in Rosenthal’s junior year, his close friend William L. Dowling, Jr. ’59 died of leukemia. Dowling and Rosenthal lived one entryway apart in Dunster House. “In retrospect, it was one of the most significant events that probably focused me on what I wanted to do in life...
...place called the Havana Club, and he was there. We started dancing.” The pair grew to be quick friends and salsa partners, but did not become romantic for several years. “We were both in relationships, and from my freshman year up until my junior year we were friends,” Gandia said. “Our relationship was limited to salsa.” But one night over dancing, Gandia and Gonzalez realized that they had both broken up with their respective significant others. They started dating soon after, and on the couple?...
Returning from injury has a predictable path—you rehabilitate, take it easy in early contests to shake off rust, and in time hope to return to form. No one has high expectations coming out of the gate. That is, unless you are Louis Caputo.The junior co-captain of the Harvard wrestling team stormed back from a knee injury that robbed him of a 2007-08 season, refusing to miss a beat after an entire year on the sidelines.Rather than appear tentative in his return to the mat, Caputo simply dominated his opponents, winning five straight matches to claim...
During my time here at Harvard, I have entered the thunderdome with the best of them. When I went to Yale my junior year, for example, it was also the weekend of my 21st birthday. As soon as I stepped foot off the bus on Friday night until getting back on said bus Saturday eve, I was never a sober boy. In the process, I urinated (twice) on the statue of Eli, broke a bathroom stall door, stole a Yalie’s hat and rubbed it on my butt, and repeatedly yelled, “I am the destroyer...