Why do Harvard students hate Harvard so much? | Opinion

Harvard students love to complain.

Whether the food in the dining hall is underwhelming, the classes are both too easy and too difficult, or the dorms are occasionally infested with pests, something is always wrong. But why? Why do students at one of the best universities in the world seem to hate it so much?

Admitted students come to Harvard expecting it to be perfect. The fact that this is not the case takes some getting used to.

From the outside, Harvard is the place to be. That acceptance letter is the key to a world of relative success, disproportionate salaries, and (if all goes well) a life of happiness.

Thousands of tourists flock to campus every year to catch a glimpse of our storied college. My mother brags to anyone who will listen about the great things her daughter is doing at Harvard. The simple look of disbelief on people’s faces when I reveal which small liberal arts college outside of Boston I attend only confirms the pedestal on which our university stands.

It is Harvard after all. Why isn’t the food gourmet? Why aren’t dorms beautifully historic yet equipped with modern amenities? Why are the parties bad and the professors merciless?

Most of us have worked our whole lives for the opportunity to get here – countless late nights, boring classes, mishaps, extracurricular activities and athletic excellence, all for the chance to be one of the lucky few to get out Batches of tens of thousands of applications were selected. Therefore, enduring even a modicum of mediocrity after all the effort and sacrifice can be quite disappointing.

That’s the thing. College is supposed to suck – at least a little bit. It’s our introduction to the adult world. It should push us out of our comfort zone for the sake of personal growth. However, when you are promised perfection, normality is shocking.

The culture of complaint also extends to school work. I definitely contributed after realizing that on my first day of class I was already 100 pages behind in reading one of my courses.

After four years of hard work in high school, it feels like we’re back to square one, building a GPA for graduate school applications or networking for a job. And with the swarms of students flocking to amazing extracurricular programs and big classes like Economics 10 or Computer Science 50, a culture of hypercompetition emerges.

For many students, it’s the first time that they’re not the smartest person in the room or that school was really hard. No wonder Harvard students complain after their first real rejections or failing grades.

Pre-orientation programs, peer advising fellows, and academic advisors help smooth the transition, but there is no solution to this “problem”—nor should there be. Failure is a fact of life. Learning humility is an important rite of passage for high achievers.

Hypercareerism only makes things more difficult. With lucrative career opportunities comes enormous pressure. The reputation of career-preparatory groups coupled with the prospect of secure, high-paying employment upon graduation encourages many students to pursue a salary rather than a passion. The certainty of success in consulting or finance lures many into well-paying but often unfulfilling paths.

Even if one escapes these pre-professional whirlpools, there is a lot of pressure to pursue other well-trodden paths such as law or medical school. The overwhelming opinion seems to be, “What can I do to maximize my future salary?” rather than “Which field best meets my interests?” It’s no surprise that students who feel unable to pursue their passions to pursue, are not always happy about it.

But at the end of the day, we’re at Harvard. The food isn’t that bad. It’s New England and the buildings are old – pests get in. It is an academically rigorous institution – the classes will be tough. The clubs are prestigious – their acceptance rates are low.

So why complain about all the inconveniences for four years? Why bring such unnecessary negativity to campus? We got a golden ticket, so stop complaining if the Annenberg chicken isn’t your mom’s perfectly seasoned home-cooked meal.

University life is always associated with hardships. But this introduction to the real world leads to valuable personal growth.

We only have four years here. Let’s enjoy them while they last.

Katie H. Martin ’28, Crimson editorial editor, lives in Wigglesworth Hall.