Butchblog

I usually avoid talking about my time at Harvard. Though some might (and do) brag about being Harvard grads, there’s a whole bunch of us who worry that mentioning it will make us sound snobbish – Ivy elites. When I’ve been asked where I went to graduate school, I tend to say “in Cambridge.” Which come to think of it, sounds just as uppity. But I feel like It’s now time to speak out about that school and what it stands for. Even though my years at Harvard, were long ago (1968-1970), I believe the same experiences and learning environment hold true there today. For me Harvard was a period of great personal growth. One I’m still thankful for today.

            My 4 years as an undergrad at a small, fairly conservative mid-western school had been underwhelming. I didn’t feel like I had learned much or been inspired by my professors or classmates. In fact, for those years I was pretty much a recluse, hanging out with a few other outsider friends and avoiding the fraternity and sorority scene that dominated that falsely pretty campus. After graduation, I returned to my hometown of Philadelphia, and took a job as a junior high school teacher in an inner-city school. It was a pretty chaotic scene, more teachers versus students, than teachers for students. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I did get that something was very wrong with that system. Both the kids and the teachers were barely hanging on. The teachers’ lounge was constantly filled with cigarette smoke and weary complaints. I made the best of it, enjoyed working with the students, who seemed relieved to have someone who actually listened to them instead of assigning endless busy work. The administration, though, was not particularly fond of my efforts, seemed wary of what was happening in my classroom. Why was he being friendly with the kids? It’s too loose in there. And when I attempted to start a student magazine they stepped in and squashed it and me.

That’s when I decided to apply to the Harvard Graduate School of Education. I knew it was a long shot. My college grades were nothing special, though I did get A’s in Creative Writing and Philosophy, (but failed Phys Ed. three times for non-attendance). Still for some reason I received an acceptance letter that summer. And a partial scholarship. I think Harvard liked that I’d been out in the “real world” not just another college kid with good grades and rich parents. By that time I was married and without parental aid of any kind. I supported myself and my then-wife during my time in Cambridge washing dishes at a fancy French restaurant called Ferdinands. I wonder if it’s still there.

            To my surprise and joy, Harvard classes were nothing like those at that Midwestern college. Not only were my professors clearly brilliant and highly-respected in their fields, but they also took time to listen to their students and were even curious about our lives and aspirations. It’s a cliche, but their doors were always open. Every week-day students and faculty would meet for tea and conversation where there was no distinction whatsoever between student and teacher. It felt so freeing. For the first time in my life I truly appreciated and enjoyed learning. I took classes all over the campus – from the Divinity school, and the lit department, and of course, the Ed school where I worked with people like Robert Coles and Jonathon Kozol, leaders in the educational reform movement. If I haven’t made it clear yet, I loved my time at Harvard.

I could go on and on about the friends I made and the inspiration I felt, about The Coop and The Brattle Theater, but right now – today – I’m a little scared to dwell on those memories. Here’s why. Because in this new autocratic, every-day-a-new-insult government, Harvard is under direct attack from the Trump/2025 crazies. Of course, it’s not only Harvard under siege, but so far, Harvard has been the one institution willing to stand up to the madness, the insane insistence by the demented Feds to bring the Ivies and any other liberal institution to heel, to pledge obeisance, and to pay up. Columbia went down, so did Penn, and a number of others. And recently talk has bubbled up about Harvard deciding to settle, as a way to maintain there federal funding, especially for all the research programs.

The whole thing is sickening. How did we get to such a place? I fervently hope the school that has meant so much to me will not bend the knee, but, unfortunately, I will grudgingly (and a bit shamefully) understand if they do. That’s the kind of world we’re living in now. It’s not what I ever thought would happen back in the sixties when we were pretty sure the world was changing for the better, that we were moving closer and closer to the ideal of social justice. Now all that hopefulness feels naive, even foolhardy. Harvard’s motto is Veritas or moving toward the truth. I want to believe there is still some hope of that continuing to exist both at Harvard and the country.