Word: letters
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...played him for a racist cop and treated him disrespectfully,” Wisse wrote in her July 30 letter...
When I walk into Boylston Hall and turn left, I’m confronted with a table; the moment I’m within the threshold of Ticknor Lounge, two school officials ask me, monotone, for the first letter of my last name. I say “C.” I look around. The place is filled with sunny silence. Dotted around the room, among the couches and deep-cushioned chairs, there are students with their heads down, some scribbling furiously, others underlining passages on the pages in front of them. There are boxes of pizza...
...tried to write my letter to Jeff Tarr. I looked through the sample phrases—things like, “I am grateful for my opportunities.” “I could not have done it without you.” I am. I couldn’t have. I am extraordinarily lucky...
...also wouldn’t be here without my real family. I reread the explanatory letter. Frank Tarr believed in the importance of education. He was very pleased that his son attended Harvard. I picture my own father, my mother, my brother, and our twin heritages...
Even in meeting Jeff Tarr once I know that he is a person of the very best order: a kind man, a good one. That day in Ticknor I wrote my thank-you letter to him happily, if dutifully. His generosity and that of those like him make this school, and its squadrons of alumni, feel like a family. We take care of our own. But I can’t shake the feeling that this notion of money is dirty, as is indebtedness. And sometimes the Harvard family makes it easy to forget that we came from somewhere before...