Checking You In

There aren't many people you can count on seeing twice a day, everyday.

Except, that is, your dining hall ID checker. After greeting their checkers at meals for three years, many students come to know their checker as a personal friend, a confidante and even sometimes a mother away from home.

"If Marina went to another dining hall, I'd eat there every day and I'd bring people with me," declares Tony J. Ribaudo '93 of Eliot House checker Marina Gerolimatos.

Many checkers say the best part of working in the College dining halls is getting to know the students. Early in the year checkers must learn the names of the students and tutors in their house. They say this personal contact encourages first small talk and then deeper conversations.

Although Gerolimatos greets students with a cheerful "Hi, honey," she, like the other checkers, knows everyone's name. "When I learn the names it's quicker for me and it makes [the students] happy," she says.

"It's really nice that Marina knew my name," says Essence McGill '94, "especially being a sophomore."

Checkers, for their part, welcome the students' friendliness.

"The best part of the job is meeting the students," says Jane C. Kelley, the checker at Adams House. "I get to know the students--who's sick, who's got a final, who broke up."

"I've had students confide in me, maybe something about their boyfriend or girlfriend," Kelley says.

And after twelve years on the job in Lowell House, checker Vicky Valteras has her advice down pat: "I tell them, 'do whatever you think is right.'"

Some house checkers identify with students on another level, by getting involved with their regular house residents' interests and activities. Roberta D. Janus, who checks in Kirkland House, knows her sports, thriving on the house's reputation as a mecca for jocks.

"She'll fill you in instantly on Harvard athletics," says Jeff B. Tonkel '92.

Janus has season tickets to the hockey games and attends men's and women's basketball as well as baseball games. And if she can't make it to a game because of work, she has been known to wear headphones.

Kirkland House students praise Janus for her friendliness. "She always has a smile for you," says Tonkel.

"She always tries to get us to compliment the other people [on the Kirkland House staff]," says Donald J. Rogers '92. "She wants everyone to get fired up."

Janus befriends Kirkland House residents young and old, often taking time out to play with two year-old Mikel McCavana, son of Kirkland's Senior Tutor.

"Roberta was wonderful with him when he was really tiny," says his mother, Connie Marina, the house librarian. "He used to sit on her lap when she was checking."

Kirkland residents respond to Janus's warmth with unflagging loyalty.

"She turned down the offer to become an official checker at the 1992 Summer Olympics, and her decision to remain at Harvard reinforced my belief that Roberta is the most highly dedicated checker within the Harvard community" jokes George Polsky '92.

Next door in Eliot, Gerolimatos teaches house residents how to speak her native Greek.

"It's a cultural experience just coming to the dining hall," says Tatiana P. Brenes '94, one of Gerolimatos's pupils.

The friendly conversations and gossip swapping that students share with their dining hall checkers leads many house residents--especially males--to come to think of their regular checkers as mother figures.

Ribaudo says of Gerolimatos, "She's knows what foods you like. She's like the mother you don't have here." In fact, Gerolimatos baked George C. Eliades '91-92 baklava for Greek Easter last year.

Rogers says that Janus is "the mother of the house. She treats us like her children."

"You become a mother figure," acknowledges Kelley. "I have a daughter who graduated last year, so I know where they're coming from."

The reason for the closeness may lie in the fact that during busy times like reading and exam period, checkers are still always around for a quick conversation.

"On some days when I'm working really hard [Vicky] is my only human contact," says Lowell House Tutor Lisa J. Schkolnick '88.

Sticking to Their Guns

But even the nicest of checkers have to stick to their guns when it comes to enforcing interhouse rules. House residents frequently laud their own checkers for keeping lines short by turning away diners from the Union and other houses.

"Jane has a sharp edge. She's not afraid to step on some toes," boasts Jason C. Marsden '94 of the Adams House checker.

"Adams House rules are really strict for interhouse," says Gavan F. Meehan '94. "I haven't sneaked anybody in because I am afraid of Jane."

The checkers don't turn away students without a sense of remorse, however. It is, some say, the worst part of the job.

"It's hard to refuse people when you tell them 'no interhouse,'" says Valtaros. "It makes you feel kind of bad ... I'm not used to turning people away."