Marin Alsop is a rarity in the world of conductors. In a profession long associated with and dominated by European men, she’s an American and she’s a she. She is also the music director of the Baltimore Symphony and the first conductor to win the prestigious MacArthur Fellowship (often dubbed a “Genius Grant”).
While enhanced recruiting efforts and financial aid initiatives in recent years have created the most diverse student body in the school’s history, Harvard’s geographic numbers are still unrepresentative of the United States as a whole.
“I’ll die in this shop,” Soillis says with a grin.
We’ll be the first to admit it: we aren’t the most muscular writers on FM. We don’t have the prodigious heft of Nathan and Ben, for instance. But, feeling fed up with the biting jabs about our scrawniness at writers’ meetings, we recently sought the help and advice of one of the fittest people on campus: Carolyn F. Pushaw ’16, a Marine-option ROTC midshipmen.
Now that everyone has frolicked sufficiently, snow days have become a time for learned contemplation. FM considers how students of various concentrations can best use their time off.
Few ordinary students have appreciated the spongy qualities of a healthy liver on Dr. Oz’s TV show, but Elana P. Simon ’18 is anything but ordinary. Diagnosed at age 12 with fibrolamel- lar hepatocellular carcinoma, a rare form of cancer, she has since gone on to beat the disease and, later, conduct research pinpointing the genetic mutation responsible for the affliction.
Astronomy Professor Robert P. Kirshner was awarded the 2015 Wolf Prize for his work proving that the universe is growing at an increasing rate.
I strode into Clover for the first time, tasked with penning an eloquent ode to the young coffee shop. It provides a community, a space for congregation, for this group of artistes.
A combination of faculty pressure and student demand brought about the shift in the timing of OCI’s first week, which is traditionally marked by a high concentration of interviews with financial firms.
People slowly filter into the Adams Junior Common Room on a sunny Saturday morning. Old Boston types clad in bow-ties and jackets and young families sporting multiple shoulder bag worth of childcare equipment all grab refreshment and settle into the plush couches to convene with their adopted first-year students. This is one of the four events thrown each year by the Freshman Dean’s Office for participants in the Host Family Program.
5:54 a.m. Work on my paper has long since stalled. I decide to take a stroll around the library that’s sure to be regenerative.
I roll out of bed at 8:45 on game day (you know, The Game), ready to document the event for posterity. First stop: the pancake breakfast in Annenberg to meet up with my fellow game-day warriors. We then head to a sad pregame in a freshman dorm. The theme of the pregame is “Too many Cooks.” Libations are poured to Smarf, the picaresque anti-hero of the 11 minute video. I’m offered some alcohol. I don’t take it for reasons of journalistic integrity, obviously.
If you haven’t heard of Nathaniel Eaton, Harvard’s first head of school, it’s not because he’s one of the University’s buried treasures. Described by one student as “fitter to have been an officer in the inquisition, or master of an house of correction, than an instructer (sic) of Christian Youth,” Eaton’s disastrous year-and-a-half-long tenure, from 1638 to 1639, ended in a court case in which he was ordered to step down and pay a fine. The school closed down for the subsequent academic year. The affair was such a scandal that in 1940, some students argued that 1640 should be seen as the real founding year of Harvard College. Here are just a few things that made Nathaniel Eaton and his regime, well, shitty.
Tucked away in Randolph Courtyard, removed from the chaos of Cambridge, Apthorp House is one of the city’s oldest surviving houses. FM was granted an exclusive tour from the current Housemasters of Adams, Judith “Judy” S. Palfrey ’67 and John “Sean” G. Palfrey VI ’67. Come with us as we check out the Palfreys’ crib (literally).
Raynor J. Kuang ’17 knows more than you.