Class Issues at Harvard

Editor's note: M. Elaine Mar's "Blue Collar, Crimson Blazer," in the November-December issue, touched many readers--some passionately. A small sampling of the voluminous correspondence appears here.

Many thanks! It is only in the last few years that I have begun to understand how deeply and insidiously class differences molded my Harvard experiences. It was tremendously validating to hear that other people have weathered the same awkward internal struggles I have. I think Mar's essay should be made a part of all future orientation-week literature.
NICOLE GALLAND 87
New York City

As an alumnus from a low-income family, I found Mar's article incomplete and rather unfair. Between 1979 and 1986, I attended Exeter and Harvard on scholarships. At both of these places, I found things I had never experienced during my earlier years. They included dining halls with an inexhaustible supply of food; spacious and well- places to live; and an array of learning opportunities, social organizations, and athletic facilities that had no price tags attached. Most of all, they included peers and professors who judged me on my intellect and abilities, not on my family's income. Thinking back on my seven years at these "elitist" institutions, I can never recall being deliberately slighted on a class basis. Compared to the society that surrounds it, Harvard does a remarkable job of minimizing the impact of class and income differences. It is useful to note the hardships that remain, but it would be a mistake to let them obscure the real achievements that the University has made.
ANDREW BUCKSER 86
West Lafayette, Ind.

Because of my own experiences with Harvard snobbery in my undergraduate years (1925 to 1929), I read Mar's article eagerly. I was not of working-class parents, however, though I did go to a public high school. My father, grandfather, and great-grandfather were bankers, aggressively Republican and middle-class--but none of them went to college. My attending Harvard was a matter of residence, of my parents' settling in Cambridge, rather than, say, Somerville, as their best friends had done. A Cambridge scholarship paid the tuition fees at Harvard for children of residents who did well at the Cambridge High and Latin School.
A mild example of the snobbery I experienced: In a small seminar I sat next to a graduate of one of the fashionable preparatory schools, who took part, as I did, in class discussions. When I encountered him in the Yard I greeted him but he did not respond, looked impassively through me. Enrollment in a small seminar, I was being instructed, was not sufficient for social acquaintance. that required previous experience in prep school or shared club membership.
I was an editor of the Crimson. On the top floor of the building was a room called, I believe, the sanctum. When I was elected to the board I was free to enter it to socialize with my peers. It was dusty and commonly quite empty The socializing, I learned, went on at the Signet Society, to which I had not been elected.
During the first three years as an undergraduate I slept and ate at home. This was conclusive so far as socializing was concerned. During my whole period as an undergraduate, friendships were exclusively with those I had known [in high] school. I did not once enter a dormitory room or go, of course, to any club affairs. My mother did want me to have a room in the Yard my last year so that her friends and relatives from Salem could be entertained there at Commencement time. That last year I lived alone in a room in Stoughton It made no difference in my social situation. Nevertheless I got a good education, for which I am grateful.
ROBERT GORHAM DAVIS '29
Professor emeritus, Columbia University
Cambridge

My parents were immigrants and Chinese restaurateurs; I did not speak English as a second language until the early primary grades. My entering class at Harvard did not have more than a handful of Asians and Asian-Americans, and my parents couldn't visit Cambridge until the week of my Commencement.
To Mar, I would pass along these words from my Harvard days from a dear mentor who was a Radcliffe Institute scholar with a Harvard lineage: "You can come from money and a privileged background and still have no class; you can also have none of those factors and plenty of class." I have remembered those words, like my overall Cambridge experiences, throughout the years, and remain glad that I had the opportunity to learn from everyone I met at Harvard, regardless of background, distinctions, or cultural/class differences.
S.Y. CHAN '75
Chicago

Three cheers for Mar's piece. The story would not be complete, however, without a hat-tip to a diligent advocate of ameliorated conditions for us local kids: Thomas Crooks ['49, M.P.A. '53], master of Dudley House in the late 1960s--and the head of Harvard's extension (night school) program and summer school, both of which provided access to learning otherwise inaccessible to "ordinary workin stiffs." His indefatigable efforts helped to lower some persistent barriers between "townies" and the rest of the student body; notably, we got Lehman Hall as a dining and social center for this otherwise inchoate cohort. As a result, we locals can look back on our undergraduate years with a little less sense of alienation than our parents. My father walked to school from Central Square, and felt that even that mile between his parents' home and the Yard cut him off seriously from the on-campus experience. Crooks shrank that distance for my generation, and all of us owe him a deep debt of thanks.
NICK HUMEZ '69
Portland, Me.

I was saddened by Mar's article. While I certainly cannot dispute her experience, or that of other alumni quoted in the article, I would be even sadder if any student from a working class home were deterred from applying to or attending Harvard by thinking that those experiences are universal. It may be that Mar would discount my views because I grew up in Newton and my family of four did make more than $30,000 a year. However, Newton, like Harvard, has people from all different classes. Neither of my parents went to college; my father managed a fast-food store and my mother worked in a grocery store. My grandparents didn't complete high school.
Mar quotes another classmate of ours saying her dorm mates "talked about debutante balls, finishing school, and their parents' professions." I went through four years of Harvard without once hearing anyone speak about debutante balls or finishing school. That may be a small part of Harvard, but it is certainly not all of it.
Maybe it is harder than I think, as hard as Mar says, to come to Harvard from a working-class family. But I think we can agree, it was still worthwhile.
CHRISTINE E. WEBBER '88
Arlington, Va.

In the fall of 1954, I found myself a freshman commuter scholarship student with an impossible commute. I had planned to commute from the far end of the Cam-bridge-Dorchester subway, but my family relocated to Hull. Under ideal conditions I could get to Harvard by foot, bus, commuter rail, and subway in two hours. Bad weather and transportation delays often made it longer.
As the fall term progressed, my grades worsened. I was called to the office of John U. Munro ['34, L.H.D. '67], director of financial aid, and sent to the Bureau of Study Counsel for help. No help could restore the lost four hours to my day, yet moving into a Harvard freshman dorm, as the son of a single-parent substitute schoolteacher, seemed economically unreachable. Then, in early 1955 after I had almost flunked out, came an offer from Harvard for which I have been grateful ever since. I was told that my grades were unacceptable, but that my high-school record indicated I could do the work at Harvard given the right study conditions (they didn't mention social conditions, but I think that was a large part of it). Through a combination of loans, work opportunities, and continued scholarships, Harvard made it possible for me to become a resident. At Matthews Hall and later in Kirkland House, I didn't find Harvard's social life to be exclusionary or elitist. True, I didn't play golf at the Myopia Hunt Club or vacation in the Caribbean, but I was able to assimilate--I began to talk and dress like the mainstream of Harvard students, and House life was a great social leveler. I received excellent academic advice from faculty, House staff, and tutors, and continued financial guidance from the Office of Admissions and Scholarships. All of this made Harvard a defining life experience for me.
RICHARD 0. NEVILLE '58 Fort Myers, Fla.

Kudos to Elaine Mar for undertaking such a self-revealing topic in an environment where people are more comfortable talking about sex than about money.Class transcends race, ethnicity religion, and gender, and anyone who thinks that this issue will be easy to solve is naive.
As one of the interview subjects, I wanted to add a few personal comments and observations. First, I did not hate my Harvard experience, despite my negativism about the formal advising and administrative system. Like most alumni, my experiences were mixed, with more good than bad, especially as time lengthens the distance since graduation. What the article had to leave out were my comments about how individual people at Harvard had made a difference. Among others, Bill Fitzsimmons '67, dean of admissions, made time to share his working-class background during my undergraduate days. Second, my choice of career deserves explanation. Why did I spend the past five years working in fundraising for Harvard? Because I am rabid about maintaining need-blind admissions and providing financial aid that meets full need. I remain passionate in my conviction that education is the way out of almost anything. Finally, I received strong reactions to the article from several people. Even 60 years had not erased the feelings of estrangement and alienation from his wealthier classmates felt by one alumnus from the 1930s. Many asked, "What is to be done?" I don't have an answer to this question any more than I can begin to solve the dilemma of discrimination based on race or gender. Class transcends race, ethnicity religion, and gender, and anyone who thinks that this issue will be easy to solve is naive. I do know that the dialogue must continue--or in some cases begin-- or true diversity at Harvard will be a mere buzzword for the 1990s and beyond. I have a lot of time these days to reflect on issues of money and class at Harvard since I was laid off from my position in the University's development office due to "budget constraints" in the same week the article appeared.
SUSAN CRONIN RUDERMAN '84, C.M.S. '93
Arlington, Mass.