Little Russ is dead, I cry inside

God, if you exist,

Please double check all your facts,

Russert is coming.

My udder olma matter

Ironic. While I was pondering the merits of Harvard "education,"my other alma mater made national news. Westlake High School (Josten's actually) printed the word "educaiton" on its diplomas this year.

It's easy to make fun of this, and the local media has had a field day. I'd like to say that I received a first rate education at Westlake -- and in particular the English department.

I recall my first paper I ever wrote in college was on the Iliad, and it was graded by Jamie Redfield, pretty much the world's leading Classics scholar. He wrote, "Mr. Ma, this is probably the best paper in the stack." (I still have the paper.)

I fully attribute this to my teachers -- Mss. Wilder, Gordon, Jurgens, and Montain. I had them in that order, and the were all fantastic teachers that frankly kicked my ass. (Ms. Jurgens, I will never forget the D on my exam of Billy Budd.)

Thanks for that, Westlake. I don't care what they write about you.

That [Harvard] kid in the corner, ten years later

I've spent the last 2 days processing my 10th year reunion weekend. I've been thinking that there is some major thought or epiphany here, as I have felt something digging at my soul -- a pebble that just won't go away.

After a lot of introspection, I realized here is what it is: I liked Harvard.

I know I see the disappointment in your face (“All that buildup for that?”) But it has taken me ten years to the day to get the words out of my mouth. Many of you may be asking, "WTF? Nice, blogger boy, you liked Harvard ... thanks for the update." But let me share a couple things with you that may at least mildly alter your vantage point.

1. I’ve previously been pretty critical of Ivy education – … and particularly Harvard, which really mailed it in with regard to undergrad education during my time (they have changed a lot of these things). No time abroad. No real dedication to science and mathematics. Big group lecture hall lectures supported by graduate students with questionable teaching skill. A hilarious excuse for academic counseling. The list goes on and on.

2. I’m Midwestern – It’s hard for me to say that I went to Harvard openly. "I went to school in Boston" is the typical response from me. And after a decade of practicing and perfecting the onedownsmanship of my undergraduate education, you begin to believe that it wasn't anything special, or that great of a place.

3. I saw the worst parts of Harvard politics far too early, far too young -- I was embroiled in one of the worst possible political battles that you can imagine where the University threatened to kick my student organization off campus. I was angry at a lot of people and the stakes were really high ... 10,000 clients in Boston and Cambridge were supported by 1700 volunteers running 72 social service and justice programs with a $5M budget. This battle between my fellow students and countless Harvard deans and professors cost me a lot sleep, friendships, health, and my grades ... the least of which was my love for the University which suffered an extraordinary toll during this time of my life. I felt that no 21-year old should have to do bear that burden. To this day, I am still a little bitter about the whole thing and partially blame Harvard for these causalities.

4. I always felt like I was an outsider -- I was a transfer student from the U of C. I went to public school (or as we say on facebook ... I Went To A Public School ... Bitch). I had to live in pre-randomization, aesthetically imposing, jock-dorm of Mather House while not being an athlete. No, I didn't stick a pat of butter on the Union. No, I didn't live in the Yard. No, you don't recognize me from FUP -- that was some other Asian kid. I still feel like “that kid in the corner.”

But this past weekend, I got pretty damn nostalgic. I realized I went to school at a pretty amazing with some pretty freakin’ amazing people. What Harvard did well, was find interesting people and if you put them together in a place (even with bad infrastructure and support), that great things will happen.

In every conversation that I had with my classmates, I found very few if any people who weren’t passionate about what they were doing. Very few were mailing it in, watching the clock. It didn’t matter if they were banking, teaching, acting, community organizing around world health, or running a major league baseball team (one is, btw). No matter where they were, or what they were doing … pretty much everyone was engaged.

You have to give it up to the people in the Admissions office. For them to get it right 10 years later is pretty impressive. Hell, headhunters get paid if they are able to keep people for 1 year. Harvard Admissions has a longer track record on something far more important than someone keeping a job. It’s about keeping passion.

So for that I give credit, where credit is due. My wounds have healed. Ten years later, I can really say that I liked Harvard without gagging.

What can I say, I’m growing.