Dude That’s Rude: Cronkhite

Throwback to August: You open Sidechat and it seems like every other sophomore has their housing assignment. Winthrop, Cabot, Eliot, but where’s Pfoho? Finally, it drops and you read…

Cronkhite?!

The name itself evokes … well not much, actually. I’d heard of its existence only a month before. A wretched place where a sophomore’s social life dies. Besides that, Cronkhite is one of the various Harvard mysteries… like… why was grape pizza ever made? Where is Remy (No, seriously I haven’t seen him)? But the most important one being: Where the pf*** is it?

So what is Cronkhite?

If you haven’t wandered far from the Square (and let’s be honest, most of us haven’t), Cronkhite is near the Radcliffe Yard. It’s actually tucked away on the second and third floor of Harvard’s Admission and Financial Aid Office. So, technically, you’ve probably been near it, but you probably didn’t know. And let’s be honest, were you really paying attention while begging for more financial aid? Since the pandemic, it’s been housing undergrad quad overflow. I mean, after all, what’s worse than being quadded? Being quadded from the quad. Cronkhite remains the Bermuda Triangle of housing. It’s just… there.

Food? Where Art Thou?

One of Cronkhite’s rudest moves? No dhall. That’s right. You’re stranded in the far reaches of, well, nowhere with no means of nourishment. Your only choice? Walking to the nearest dining hall because not even the shuttles stop here. The only upside is we do have swipe access to every upperclassman dining hall. But imagine walking back from a long day, only to realize your nearest dining option is a solid 10-15 minute walk away (guys, I’m only 4’10”... it takes me a bit longer to walk everywhere). Cronkhite: where the hunger games are real.

Is Anyone Even Here?

The vibe can be best compared to a Harvard football game. You know people should be there, but they usually aren’t. It’s technically home to the overflow from the Quad – Cabot, Currier, and my beloved (?) Pfoho – but honestly, it feels like I’m living in a mystery novel where the main plot is: Where is everybody? Because I rarely run into anyone, and when I do, it’s like spotting a rare species in the wild. We don’t talk, we don’t interact, we just exchange awkward eye contact like, “Ah, you too, huh?” It’s truly sad. I have lived here a month now and can’t tell you the names of a single person around me. It’s not that the place is un-pfriendly, it’s just that we all head to our over 110 square feet singles to continue the isolating culture of Cronkhite.

The worst part of being housed in Cronkhite? Probably the fact that we are, supposedly, the last undergraduates to live there. Once the Class of 2025 graduates, there shouldn’t be a need for overflow. Fortunately for everyone else, and unfortunately for me, no one will understand my frustrations with Cronk.