<p>In today's Crimson, an undergraduate writes about being reminded why she loves Harvard after hosting some pre-frosh. </p>
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<blockquote> <p>I told the pre-frosh about directing a play that I co-wrote, taking a class on swing music, my awesome professors, the uncanny success of freshman rooming assignments, being a Jewish girl in an African gospel choir, how people at Harvard really arent nerds, and how Boston was greatunless you are a Yankees fan. Amidst a week of work and bustle, the rosy-cheeked high schoolers caused me to actively remind myself why I love Harvard. In disclosing to them the secrets of this brick-and-ivy municipality, I finally transcended the stack of textbooks on my desk and came to an objective understanding of my life at Harvard.</p> </blockquote>
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<p>Whether or not my pre-frosh attend this springtime home of frisbee playing, sunbathing, and flip-flops, my interaction with the young visitors left me reassured that despite occasional noises about Harvard student dissatisfaction, I could never be happier anywhere else.>></p>
<p>I'm sure similar articles could be published in the Yale Daily News (although the TA strike seems to dominate these days) or the Daily Princetonian.</p>