Duke v. Harvard

Duke v. Harvard is not a basketball match-up that you are likely to see. Subconsciously comparing the experiences at each school, however, is how I spent my spring break.

Instead of picking up The Chronicle every day, I read the Harvard Crimson, and instead of eating in our Great Hall, I ate in a Great Hall with half a dozen chandeliers, high ceilings, intricate arches and stained glass windows that looked as if it were taken straight out of Hogwarts. If you ever thought Duke, where each student who was considered the smartest kid in high school becomes pitted against thousands of others who had the same reputation of being equally high achieving, is a weird place, I dare you to visit Harvard—a campus where every single student was not only considered “the best” at his or her high school too, but is also conscious of the fact that he or she attends the most prestigious school in the world.

Whereas we proudly display our school spirit on T-shirts and with bumper stickers, Harvard students shy away from wearing anything that advertises their school. With the word “Harvard” written all over Cambridge, however, it is difficult not to see a student wearing a backpack and immediately have the impression “Oooh, someone goes to Hah-vahd.” In order to avoid attracting attention to themselves, students also try to refrain from accidentally dropping the “H-bomb,” which causes strangers either to love or hate them instantaneously for their pedigree.

My visit at Harvard has shown me that despite Duke’s issues with its administration and social life, dissatisfactions inevitably manifest itself in different ways at top tier schools, especially based on the organization of the campus and city. For example, as an island in the middle of Durham where students, if and when they go off campus, drive to Southpoint or Chapel Hill, Duke greatly contrasts from the layout of Harvard, which scatters its academic buildings and dorms throughout the city. Instead of taking buses, students never stop walking, usually disregarding crosswalks. Cars always stop for them; apparently no one dares hit a Harvard student.

The most striking detail I noticed, however, was the contrast, or similarity (depending on how one looks at it), between the dating scenes, or lack thereof, at both schools. Many students at Duke express frustration with the hook-up culture and the difficulty of finding relationships on campus. I’ve heard stories from sorority members sick of frat guys who will wine and dine a girl and then dump her without explanation.

While visiting Pasadena City College, one of the few people I’ve known who has had a long-term relationship at Duke commented on how weird PCC was compared to her alma mater, although she could not put her finger on why. She later realized that it was because she saw couples kissing everywhere, something that she almost never saw at Duke. I myself admit to doing a double take whenever I see two people holding hands on campus. Couples are almost a spectacle here.

It could, however, be a lot worse. The first flyer that caught my eye on Harvard’s campus read: “Does dating even exist at Harvard?” During lecture later that day, the professor made a joke about “love at Harvard,” which caused him and the students to burst out laughing. He could have been talking about unicorns for all the difference it would have made. After class my friend explained to me that sadly, “people seem to care more about themselves here more than other people.”

The difference can be explained in part by the variation in the social and residential organization of the two schools. Despite close affiliation to their residential house where they are assigned to live for three years, Harvard students seem to lack a collective experience that students at Duke share. For example, Duke students, whether they like it or not, have experienced the griminess of Shooters or pneumonia in Krzyzewskiville. Harvard students, in contrast, are much more independent.