Risky Business: What Pre-MBA's Do for Social Life

They seem to have their social lives made. Intelligent, wealthy and wordly, they could head a list of eligible singles. But there's one catch--they don't have the time to meet you. So, Business School students have devised their own brand of social life, a lot of work mixed with a little bit of play.

Social life is mostly organized around the students' sections, groups of 90 students with whom B-Schoolers attend all their first-year classes. Each section collects social dues of about $75 from each student at the beginning of the year, says Gary S. Ambro, a first-year student.

Because of this, "B-Schoolers tend to hang out together," says David Glassman.

"Sections promote a real sense of camaraderie. There's a cohesive group of people who will be some of your closest friends," says Thomas V. Ealy, who admits to being one of very few B-Schoolers dating a section-mate.

However, most students say that social life comes second to academics. "They [his classmates] don't do enough to relax, that's for damn sure. They're all sick--the clean cut ones. I recommend valium for 90 percent of the school," says Arthur C Epker, a second-year student.

B-School students attend an average of 10 classes per week. First-year students say they spend about three hours in preparation for each class, while savvy second-year students whittle studying time down to about an hour per class.

"There's a major difference between first-years and second-years, because second-years don't have to work as hard on cases," second-year student Steven M. Miller says.

First-year students say they often find the lack of social life frustrating.

"Unfortunately, people work pretty hard here," Ambro says. "You might spend 10 hours a day doing cases. A big part of what you [should] get out of the B-School is the people you meet. I don't think there's enough emphasis on that unofficial part of the curriculum."

"You have to temper your ambitions by having fun. The social life here doesn't allow that," says first-year student James D. Phillipkosky.

"I think if the school didn't work us so hard, we'd be more normal," first-year student Joshua M. Newman says.

"They take their careers too seriously. I think they spend too much time attending recruitment meetings," Newman says of his classmates. "They're a nice bunch of hardworking people. They're a little boring, though."

Yet, B-School students work almost as hard at creating a social life. Sections sponsor restaurant dinners, skating parties, trips to the symphony, beer bashes, and visits from comedy troupes to complement the black-tie dinners that other organizations hold, says Glassman, who serves on his section's five-man social committee.

In addition, the school has a pub, located on the first floor of Gallatin Hall, a dormitory, which attracts a full house of about 200 B-Schoolers each Friday afternoon after classes. Every Wednesday about 75 students flock to The Pub for a "two-case" night which B-Schoolers say means they spend only six hours on the next day's homework instead of nine. And, there is also an informal "Wednesday night club," which Ambro says was "this big excuse to go drinking with everybody."

Sometimes, even B-Schoolers can get rowdy. Michael M. Milletello, a first-year student and leader of the B-School's own rock and roll band, "New Venture," says his section has already been banned from holding any more parties on campus.

"We just had a couple of parties. We trashed a room twice in three weeks. It's just a mix-up--it wasn't really our fault," Millitello says.

But a paucity of parties does not necessarily mean that B-Schoolers sit home and study all day. "I would say we play as hard as we work," says Thomas V. Ealy, a first-year student.

Ha Ha Ha

"We never study. This place is a joke. There's no work at all," Epker says. He adds he spends his time working 20 hours per week for a venture-capital firm and watching television.

Drinking and watching television are how most B-Schoolers relax, Epker says. He added that there are "not enough" drugs on campus, although he says he has seen them before. "I'm not going to get honors, but what the hell," Epker says.

Students say sports--squash, basketball, volleyball, dance classes and daily aerobics classes, as well as the paddle tennis that has created a waiting list for court time--help them relax as well.

"Whenever there's an opportunity to blow off steam, they blow off steam," says first-year student Anthony J. DiNovi '84.

But the predominantly male population of Business School students spends a great deal of time trying to meet women, students say. Garbed in sweatshirts and button-down Oxfords, the students frequent the Boathouse Bar, and the more ambitious ones travel even farther to the Hong Kong.

Because there are no formal lines of connection between the College and the Business School, the Boathouse plays a crucial role in allowing the graduate students to mingle with the undergraduates, Ambro says.

Douglas J. Rowen, a first-year student called finding dates "the hardest part" of surviving the social scene at the school. "I haven't started any deep, meaningful relationships since I've been here."

Others travel to nearby women's colleges where undergraduates oft fall prey to Harvard MBAs. "There's always been a Wellesley connection," says one student who asked to remain anonymous.

Because of the approximate seven-to-three ratio of men to women among B-Schoolers, such connections are necessary. "Last week, to make the party really move [at a Friday night B-School gathering that featured four kegs and a band] we had to advertise at Wellesley [to invite women]," Ambro says.

Yet, many students do not have to make the effort to meet women, because they are already dating someone they knew before coming to Cambridge, Epker says.

Newman, who is married to a student at the Law School, says, "The students are older [here]. More than 50 percent of the people have very serious mates. It takes a lot of people out of the social scene."

As concerned as students are about their social life, however, as Phillipkosky says, "There's a fair amount of people who aren't motivated by a keg of beer."