Some Cheese With That Whine?

One night this summer, the clerk at the video store told me that some guy had been renting the exact same movies as me.

Naturally, this got me wondering about my cinematic soul mate (what was his name, was he better looking than me, etc.) But soon after, I was thrust into a period of monkish introspection. Randomness alone could not possibly account for such an odd episode. There must be some link, some pattern, binding my movie choices: The Insider, Quiz Show, Erin Brockovich.

When it hit me later on, I was instantly proud of myself for my totally inadvertent, utterly passive advocacy of the little guy over the tobacco/media/polluting giant. Vicariously, through the likes of Julia Roberts (still so hot right now) and Russell Crowe (so not right now), I was waging war on behalf of my common man. Sweet.

In a battle betwixt David and Goliath, I would venture a guess that the majority of us would root for David (save a few Ec concentrators), though the pragmatic among us would put our money on Goliath. But it is worth reminding ourselves that to some the Harvard community is a menacing, if not downright nefarious, multi-headed Goliath. Could it be that we, who fashion ourselves David-sympathizers, self-styled brethren of the underdogs, are complicit in the workings of the bigger, older thug-of-a-brother?

I don’t think so. With classes starting, I was made privy to the latest round of complaints from a hard-line troupe of villagers, wielding torches, as it were (not really). The planned expansion of grad school and faculty housing in the Riverside neighborhood apparently constitutes an infringement on our neighbors’ peaceable, hunter-gatherer way of life. All this from the cohort who two years ago delivered a fatal preemptive blow to hopes of a first-rate contemporary art museum on the Charles.

Once chided for building too high, Harvard aimed low this time in the form of three-story homes. The latest gripe: the designs are “unfriendly” and “almost a parody” of current neighborhood housing. But how parodic is the Harvard-funded affordable housing being built in Riverside? The new Harvard-funded park?

For a small slice of curmudgeonly Cantabs, Harvard can do no right. Harvard is imperialist. Harvard is sanctimonious. Like some watered-down Declaration of Independence, the list of grievances goes on.

City Councilor Brian P. Murphy ’86-’87 quips, “There are some people, I don’t think they’d be happy unless Harvard Yard was torn down for community benefit.” Town-gown relations must be a game of give-and-take; such a hard-line stance is horribly unproductive. Just as it would be wholly inappropriate for Harvard development to truck on unfettered, it is absurd to advocate what is tantamount to a freeze on University expansion.

Students can vouch for other manifestations of the discontents of some of our less neighborly neighbors, dispatching the 5-0 to bust parties (Saturday night, no less) even as they piggyback Harvard shuttles to the Square, feast on subsidies from the University endowment and gleefully watch their property values soar ever-upward as they indiscreetly drop the H-bomb in just about every local real estate listing.

My point is not to lambaste Cambridge residents, who, by and large, are so chill that it’s not even funny. Rather, I hope to take aim at the few, the proud—the obstructionists—who insist upon cramping our style at absolutely every turn. I speak to those who doggedly and repeatedly stand in the way of making the university community—nay, the broader community—a better place.

A place, for example, with first-rate arts facilities to host and cultivate talent, to be enjoyed by all in the community, not just Harvard affiliates. A place with state-of-the-art science labs to do the important stuff that happens in science labs, which in turn helps people far beyond this school. Our efforts to become a better school are noble at best and benign at worst.

These initiatives hardly seem unreasonable in light of what Harvard gives its already privileged neighbors: money. Lots of money. Though Harvard is a tax-exempt non-profit, it rakes in a truckload of money in the form of tourism, which in turn feeds the local economy. And then there are the subsidies. Take a look at the millions and millions that Harvard will be shelling out to the Agassiz neighborhood (near the law school) for special projects over the next few years. According to census data, this pristine wilderness already has the second highest household income of all of Cambridge’s thirteen neighborhoods. But in an informal neighborhood poll conducted two years ago, residents voted 24-1 (with one abstention) in favor of halting all Harvard construction in the neighborhood—every last bit of it.

Harvard/Cambridge is not really a chicken/egg problem. The University did come before Cambridge and helped make Cambridge such a sought-after hub. Locals know what awaits when they opt to locate or stay near the University—a college town. Sparkling suburbs like Concord and Andover beckon those with a special distaste for big, bad institutions.

Harvard ain’t a saint, but it is no Goliath either. And its perpetually dissatisfied neighbors are no Davids. Oversimplified and unforgiving, the very us/them dichotomy lets Harvard affiliates overlook the College’s reliance on Cambridge as it allows Cantabs to neglect Harvard’s stunning community resources. We cannot afford to have bullheaded attitudes prevail at the negotiating table; community building must be a cooperative endeavor.

So lend us some sugar, Cambridge; we are your neighbors. We’ll do our best to keep the cupboard fully stocked for you.

Jared M. Seeger ’05 is a government concentrator in Pforzheimer House. His column appears on alternate Thursdays.