There's a quote that I've been hearing rather frequently lately:
"Harvard University will close only for an act of God, such as the end of the world."
These words were spoken by the Dean of Students in 1977, Archie C. Epps III. Apparently, the school had closed in 1938, and then in 1978, and then once more in 2013 (too lazy to look up actual facts, but this is what was stated on The Crimson). Obviously, this place takes its education seriously. While other colleges in the Boston area have had up to three snow days in a row, Harvard goes hard and gives no shits about nasty, inhumane weather. Kids gotta learn!
Except on the second day of classes this semester. And, almost two weeks later, today.
It almost seems like God is mocking my former anxiety about winter in New England. My very first winter here, we get dumped with so much snow that the school notorious for never canceling classes actually cancels them twice. I laugh at the irony. If someone had told paranoid-first-semester-me that it would snow so badly we'd get two days off of school, my brain might have stopped functioning out of me becoming a nervous wreck. (Glad that didn't happen!)
The first snow day was on January 27. The night before the blizzard struck, my friends and I all spent a warm evening together before venturing out into the snow around midnight, throwing snowballs at each other and sledding down the steps of Widener Library on dining hall trays. Today, I'm just sitting in my room gazing at the blizzard brewing outside, glad to be in the comfort of my bed that's right next to the heater. Last night, I was at the freshman dining hall with hundreds of other freshmen. An email got sent out simultaneously to everyone, and first murmurs circulated around the hall, and then they erupted into cheers and applause.
Ahh, the solidarity of the Harvard community. It was a glorious moment. (Yes, we celebrate having canceled classes; we're normal people.)
Now I think I'll be off sledding down Widener again in a few minutes, so I'll write more later!
"Harvard University will close only for an act of God, such as the end of the world."
These words were spoken by the Dean of Students in 1977, Archie C. Epps III. Apparently, the school had closed in 1938, and then in 1978, and then once more in 2013 (too lazy to look up actual facts, but this is what was stated on The Crimson). Obviously, this place takes its education seriously. While other colleges in the Boston area have had up to three snow days in a row, Harvard goes hard and gives no shits about nasty, inhumane weather. Kids gotta learn!
Except on the second day of classes this semester. And, almost two weeks later, today.
It almost seems like God is mocking my former anxiety about winter in New England. My very first winter here, we get dumped with so much snow that the school notorious for never canceling classes actually cancels them twice. I laugh at the irony. If someone had told paranoid-first-semester-me that it would snow so badly we'd get two days off of school, my brain might have stopped functioning out of me becoming a nervous wreck. (Glad that didn't happen!)
The first snow day was on January 27. The night before the blizzard struck, my friends and I all spent a warm evening together before venturing out into the snow around midnight, throwing snowballs at each other and sledding down the steps of Widener Library on dining hall trays. Today, I'm just sitting in my room gazing at the blizzard brewing outside, glad to be in the comfort of my bed that's right next to the heater. Last night, I was at the freshman dining hall with hundreds of other freshmen. An email got sent out simultaneously to everyone, and first murmurs circulated around the hall, and then they erupted into cheers and applause.
Ahh, the solidarity of the Harvard community. It was a glorious moment. (Yes, we celebrate having canceled classes; we're normal people.)
Now I think I'll be off sledding down Widener again in a few minutes, so I'll write more later!
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