Word: knowing
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...wide-eyed moron whose insensitivity and comprehensive ignorance of Harvard perfectly suited him--in the eyes of the Freshman Dean's Office--to guide 30-odd freshmen through the year. Chuck welcomed us in his high, overeager voice and then, with the preface, "I thought you'd like to know something about yourselves," began to read each anonymous person's high school rank and SAT scores from computer printouts. We all stared at each other uncomfortably, trying to figure out who among us had graduated first in a class of 1000 and who had gotten the double 800s...
...know much about Harvard," Chuck continued modestly, and proceeded to lecture us on the pitfalls of elitism and the greatness of his undergrad years at Colby. He then told us he would turn in any pushers, but would tolerate dope-smoking, and shoved us out into the perils of Saturday Night Freshman Week...
FRESHMAN WEEK BEGAN MY RETREAT from Harvard, my frantic attempts to assuage my loneliness and frustration by clinging to memories of life and friends at boarding school. I know it's a little unfashionable to praise prep school, with all its elitist connotations, but for me it was a haven, an unrelenting series of academic challenges enlivened by warm friendships with students and teachers. I didn't think I had swallowed the social caste propaganda--I am proud of my Syrian Jewish heritage and my immigrant grandparents. I had gone to public schools until tenth grade, and I knew intelligence...
Thanks, Ellen. I felt a twinge of guilt about my aloofness toward her, but it's easy to feel compassionate when you know you're never going to have to deal with someone again. I put the note away, packed up the last box, and headed for the door. I did not dread returning to Harvard the following year; I had made good friends and found a niche in East Asian Studies and The Crimson. I looked forward to starting over, out of the Yard. But I savored every last step down the stairs, past Chuck's room...
...Lamont's argument. But that argument seems inherently worthless because it is not, as touted, "first hand," but secondhand, the result of "more than 650 interviews." Throughout, Lamont comes across as an interloper, a strange wanderer on the outside looking in. The punch line goes, "I was there--I know." Well, Lamont wasn't there, and it results in some embarrassing misperceptions. Lamont repeatedly yaps about the "crush in the libraries." What crush? The only crush I've ever seen at Harvard is in Q-world's pinball arcade during reading period...