Breaking the Criteria: Club Sports and Breakdancing

Much like particle physics, the Bermuda Triangle and the Canadian senate, the inner workings of Harvard’s Club Sports Committee are shrouded in mystery. In fact, surprisingly little is known about the governing body that controls the fates (and funding) of all 65 club sports at the College. How does the Committee work? How is club sport status granted? What’s involved in the application process? Club Sports Director and Coordinator Casey Blodget declined to answer our burning questions. Instead, we got the scoop from recent petitioner Hirohisa Yamada ’16.

Though I’ve never met him, I recognize Yamada from across the quiet, sunny dining hall. He has a dancer’s casual grace, and his hoodie looks like it could transition from lunch attire to dance gear on a moment’s notice. Yamada is the president of Harvard Breakers, a student breakdancing group that meets four times a week to condition, practice, and choreograph.

“Breakdancing is a form of dance which is very physically demanding,” he tells me. “You move your body in a very acrobatic way.” I recall his Facebook profile picture, which shows him upside down and supporting his entire body with one hand. I believe him.

It turns out that these acrobatics aren’t purely recreational: Breakers members compete (“battle”) regularly throughout Boston and nearby cities. I pause for a second, flashing back to every Step Up movie ever made, but Yamada assures me that these tournaments are highly structured. “Most of the time, it’s a one on one battle,” he says.

Despite its competitive nature, Breakers is not currently a club sport. Instead, as a student organization, it falls under the jurisdiction of the Office of Student Life. The OSL provides some practice locations, but prohibits the use of Athletic Department facilities or equipment. Student organizations also have limited funding, Yamada explains, making it difficult to hire instructors.

For those reasons, Yamada and the Breakers decided in the spring to apply for club sport status. They began by submitting a budget and membership roster, then met with a Club Sports representative in late August. This representative, the Club Sports Director and Coordinator, acts as an intermediary between applicants and the Club Sports Committee and is the first to review applications using seven exacting criteria. For example, Criterion 1: Most members of a Harvard club sport must actually be affiliated with Harvard College. Groups that fulfill this grueling requirement must then tackle criterion 2: All club presidents and leaders must also attend the College. If a group somehow manages to meet all 7 criteria, its application advances to the Committee for a final decision.

Many an oddball activity has made it through this process, including sports such as Quidditch, Spikeball, and Cornhole. In fact, the list of club sports already includes two dance groups: the Crimson Dance Team, which “falls under athletics because they work at varsity games,” and the Ballroom Dance Club, which “has been around so long they were grandfathered in as a club sport,” Yamada says. Yamada’s efforts to remain diplomatic are nearly successful as he reads me these definitions directly from an Athletic Department email.

That diplomacy wavers a bit, however, when he tells me that Harvard Breakers was ultimately turned down by the Club Sports Committee. “I think it was the fact that we are a dance group,” he says, looking skeptical. “If they did accept us, then the other dance groups on campus would also want to become club sports. They didn’t want that situation.” I squint as I try to come up with a definition for “Crimson Dance Team” that doesn’t include the phrase “dance group.”

I ask about next steps, and Yamada rattles off a few potential sources of funding, sounding troubled as he suggests the possibility of membership dues. At first, he doesn’t seem inclined to reapply for club status. “There hasn’t been much of a change in circumstances,” he explains.

I pack up my things and re-enter the windy mid-October courtyard, struggling with a vague sense of dissatisfaction. I can’t quite put my finger on its source. When I get back to my dorm, I send off an email to the Associate Director of Athletics Gary Brown. He doesn’t respond.