Crimson staff writer
Sophia S. Liang
Associate Editor Sophia S. Liang can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
The complex relationship between the Extension School and the rest of the University — between the “back door” and the “real Harvard” it opens up to — highlights a glaring paradox: How can a school that’s famous for the number of students it rejects so boldly advertise a “Harvard education designed for you”?
In the wake of Harvard reducing idled workers' pay to 70 percent during the pandemic, we followed four Harvard employees over the course of three months, conducting interviews on a weekly basis. These four individuals shared their lives with us, and although financial challenges and the pandemic have touched each of them, the pay cut is far from the only reason why these stories need telling.
“Undoubtedly — I can't say this in stronger terms — this course would have met the highest level of Gen Ed committee evaluation,” he says. “There are other courses that were nowhere near this threshold of quality that you could cut for funding reasons. This is not the one to go.”
Harvard spent months planning a fall semester in the hopes of avoiding a repeat of the spring, when workers were exposed to the full force of the pandemic — including at least one who contracted COVID-19 after cleaning President Lawrence Bacow’s residence on March 19. Yet this fall, workers continue to face new iterations of the same anxieties over workplace safety and economic security.
The 11 co-owners of Fly Together Fitness are biologists, musicians, educators, and real estate brokers; their ages range from 25 to 53 years old. Despite their diverse backgrounds, a shared love of pole dancing inspired them to build their own cozy, brightly-lit studio in Somerville.
Greener’s rosy recollection of Harvard reflects a series of contradictions that characterized his life, both during and after college. Greener was a light-skinned Black man straddling racial divides in a segregated world. He received life-changing opportunities at a university where he struggled with loneliness and lacked faculty support. And despite his tremendous contributions in activism and public service, he remains relatively unknown to historians today.