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This is a story about two houses, one made of concrete and glass that looms imposingly over the Charles, and another made of wood and brick that sits among similar buildings along Mt. Auburn Street. In the last four years, I’ve been privileged enough to live, or at least socialize, in both. And as a kid from a rural community in central Texas, only incredible strokes of luck could have placed me in either of them.I was first introduced to the final clubs by the Unofficial Guide to Life at Harvard, which featured nothing more than...
...Spee, Spring 2002." While it made me vaguely uncomfortable, the anonymous note didn’t stop me from continuing my weekend routine. Every Friday and Saturday night, I would slap on some eyeliner, shove my feet into stilettos, find my tightest jeans, and head out to Mt. Auburn Street. My freshman clique and I would shiver on the steps while a club member looked us up and down to see if we were hot enough to get in. Inside we’d be handed alcohol by someone we usually didn’t know, dance or play beer...
Blocks from the Barker Center, the voices are softer, but the message is just as resounding. Tucked away in a nondescript Brattle Square office building at 104 Mt. Auburn St. is a brand-new facility that specializes in research and fellowships on African and African-American Studies...
...might expect Harvard to be embarrassed by such a former leader. But the man responsible for these undeniably, irrevocably hateful words and actions is still held in high honor by the University. The azure-domed House on Mt. Auburn Street bears his family name; a stately bust of Lowell himself perches to one side of its picturesque courtyard. The Lowell Dining Hall bustles today with countless students its namesake would have undoubtedly labored to keep out—thriving undergraduates who happen to be female, gay, African-American, Jewish, or anything other than members of Lowell?...
...This becomes clear as a woman with an orange scarf and a brown dog walks down into the sparse basement of a house on Mt. Auburn Street, looking for campaign flyers. Noticing a new face in the room, she turns to introduce herself...