I think it really hit me how fortunate I am to go to Harvard when I was catching up with a high school friend who asked me, “So, do famous people ever come to visit or speak?”
“Yes, all the time, actually,” I replied casually.
But when she proceeded to ask me who, I found my mind drawing a blank, not because there had been a dearth of incredible individuals here, but because I knew there were so many great ones who were slipping my mind. At that moment, I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. Here I was at Harvard, not taking advantage of all of these astonishing people who both come to visit and who are on campus all the time.
This is not a guilt I am unaccustomed to. Throughout my five short months at Harvard I find myself every day pushing past eager students in the Science Center as they waive flyers in my face, urging me to help save animals or comp an organization that has produced countless famous alumni. My first reaction is usually to continue on to the class to which I am inevitably cutting it close to making on time. But later I find myself lamenting that missed opportunity. What am I doing here not taking these opportunities to make a difference and broaden and advance my career opportunities?
My first semester at Harvard, I acted in a show, took part in the Shakespeare Scene Recital, participated in the 24-Hour Play Festival, built sets for Nine the Musical, and taught theater to elementary school students with Harvard STAGE. And yet I watched as my peers acted in two shows, comped the Advocate and the Lampoon, held jobs, wrote for the Crimson, found a significant other, and managed, somehow, to do their schoolwork. Though there were many nights I didn’t even get to Lamont to do work until eleven and left at an ungodly hour, only to start all over again at eight the next morning, I felt like I was underachieving. It wasn’t until I was talking to a sophomore who asked me what I was involved in that this thought process of mine began to shift. I rattled off my activities list in a slightly sheepish and ashamed way, aiming to insinuate that, yes, I know I could be doing more. But instead his response surprised me.
“Wow, you’re really killing it,” he replied. “All that your first semester?”
I realized then that I had allowed myself to slip into a Harvard phenomenon that I feel is all too common: a guilt associated with not “making the most” of your time and opportunities here.
Don’t get me wrong, Harvard is a mecca of opportunity, and it would be crazy to go through your time here without jumping at some of these “golden tickets.” But that’s the thing; it would be impossible to jump at all of them. Harvard students are by nature extremely passionate, driven people. If you didn’t fit that description, you wouldn’t be here! My advice would be to channel that passion into engaging in activities that and signing up to meet people in which you are genuinely interested. But on the flip side of that, you should never find yourself feeling guilty for opting to take the afternoon off or even taking a class you are more excited about with perhaps an equally engaging albeit less renowned professor. The best part about Harvard is that giving up opportunities is okay, because there will always been even better ones around the corner.
Last year, when I was still a senior in high school, I came to Visitas and stayed with a friend of mine who is an upperclassman here. I remember as we had to work hard to push by a crowd of tourists standing near the statue, I asked her if it ever gets annoying to have them there when in a hurry. But she remarked that she actually loved it. “It sort of reminds you that you go to school at Disney World,” she said. It hit me then just how special of a place Harvard is. So in having won the lottery of sorts, pace yourself. Indulge your passions, while also allowing for time for personal growth and time to breath. You may find yourself choosing between Space Mountain and It’s a Small World, and perhaps there will be a long line to get there, but the good news is it’s open year-round and will never stop being magical.