Making Things More Interesting

For four years now, I have shared my thoughts with the Harvard population. I think, sometimes, that it would have been easier to say nothing. And, of course, it would have been. For the private sphere is a great deal more comfortable than the public, and J. S. Mill never promised believers in his disputatious Nirvana a free ride.

To write is to contest. And despite the supposed anonymity of the post-modern idea-inheritor, the opinions of a contestant nonetheless become attached to a name. The name of the writer-contestant gains a personality of its own, and becomes famous or infamous for the opinions to which it is signed.

This explains the acknowledging smile of the spurned musical composer who "knows who you are" upon a personal introduction, the disinterested handshake of a squash player whose team I critiqued for being too good and the distance encountered upon meeting a former BSA president with whom I had differed.

Through The Crimson I have managed to anger more than a few of my peers, as well as a handful of Harvard elders. Such is the fate of the editorialist. To have kept to myself would have prevented their social rebukes, stinging letters, nasty telephone calls and physical threats. Nevertheless, I charged forward with pen in fist, asserting the good as I have seen it.

Yet, while on The Crimson, I have changed my ideological stance from conservative to liberal and back again, with a "neo-" added. This variation in political allegiance, while from a distance it might be interpreted as a bildungsroman, at the instant has led to charges of disloyalty and hypocrisy. To have kept to myself would have prevented my morphing political persuasion from being open to public criticism. Nevertheless, I have continually played the partisan.

Of course, debates that are played out on the opinion pages often reverberate in the newsroom. Within the Crimson, I have tried to speak to policies and politics that are right (no pun intended) for this campus and for the world. To have kept to myself would have been to maintain the collegial backslapping for which we as an organization lambast others. For this internal criticism, certainly, I have paid somewhat of a price.

Outside The Crimson, on the other hand, I have defended my newspaper against charges from the left and the right, supporting a headline choice or espousing the editorial board position. This organization-identification (criticism within, defense outside) is the other side of loyalty's coin. To have kept to myself would have given the forces of anti-media outrage a bit of leverage. The Crimson deserves continual credit for being an honest paper.

So far I have spoken of obligations and allegiance without mentioning benefits, for they are plenty--even if they come at an enormous cost. One reward for entering the public sphere is being able to set the agenda. When you feel strongly about an issue, whether it be the grape boycott, a multicultural student center or the park in Quincy Square, you can get people concerned about it and possibly hitch a caravan to your lead.

Another plus about writing to the community is the feeling of unity that derives from putting into words the experiences we share in common. My thanks go out to fellow students who have shared their stories with me about randomization, crossword puzzles, running along the Charles and senior these--for these mundane subjects, and not metaphysical discourses, are the collective soul of the Harvard experience.

Writing for The Crimson has also allowed me a creative outlet. Everyone needs to be able to express him or herself, especially at Harvard where each student has more energy than he or she knows what to do with. And in this creative endeavor, I have joined a generally outstanding group of people who concentrate in The Crimson in order to provide you with Cambridge's Breakfast Table Daily.

In closing, I would like to thank those who have paid attention to my columns these past few years. I have, for the most part, enjoyed the dialogue in which we have engaged. I did not have to enter the Harvard public sphere, but like the deans in University Hall and the better politicians on the Undergraduate Council, I believed that our spirits could be lifted and our lives improved through engagement.

I still believe this is the case. I value the discussions initiated, the programs conceived, the movements furthered through editorial writing. I value the intellectual discipline it takes to advance one's thoughts in anticipation of reply, especially in this literate and knowledgeable community. I am not so sure that all of this editorializing adds up to progress, but in certainly makes things a great deal more interesting.

Joshua A. Kaufman is a senior in Dunster House concentrating in social studies. This is his final column.