Place To Be

Daniel Riva

The sounds of Nick Drake echo form our little portable speaker throughout our makeshift cirlce. We lounge in the brightly colored lawn chairs as a light breeze sways the large oaks, and elms that shelter us. This is Harvard Yard.

When I was young, younger than before
I never saw the truth hanging from the door

And now I’m older see it face to face
And now I’m older gotta get up, clean the place

Our circle is made up of four individuals: there was Nick, the math genius from Jersey who owned enough button down shirts to fill two closets, Duncan, the former fat-kid turned fashionable musician, Sophie, the effortlessly cute granddaughter of a politician, Charlie, my best and oldest friend, and me, a LA boy lost in Boston and the moment. So immersed in that moment that I remember as if it were yesterday. In reality that day came way back in September, back when I could still remember what sun felt like on my bright blonde head of hair, or what the ocean breeze smelled like on those Saturday morning aprés-surf drives back home in LA. This day came far before the 110 some odd inches of snow that would fall later that winter. That day it was hot, the type of hot that had me checking my armpits for sweat stains, it didn't help that I was wearing a black shirt. That day was the first time I had ever spent any real time in Harvard, or Cambridge for that matter, but more importantly it was the first time I had seen Charlie Gibson in two years.

Opposite the Yard’s twenty-five-year-old gothic, wrought-iron gates, who have a storied history of their own, so much so that Blair Kamin wrote a one-hundred-fifty-eight-page book detailing the history of them, stands (or rather, sits) the statue of John Harvard. It is on this very statue that drunken students are often found peeing in an effort to complete “the three tasks”. The other two tasks include having sex in the Widener Library stacks, and running through the yard nude during the legendary “Primal Scream” which takes place at the beginning of every finals week.

Across the yard, beside those gates, looms Massachusetts Hall, the oldest building at Harvard and the second oldest academic building in the country. As I walked up the four flights of sketchy concrete stairs, which I couldn’t help but imagine traversing intoxicated, or even worse intoxicated and in heels, there is an uncanny inviting aura that permeates throughout the floor. Fourteen freshmen, a mix of young men and women from across the globe, call this place their home for nine months of the year, they are a randomly selected few of the 1,600 students who make up the class of 2018. These students foster a bond through their shared, tightly knit, living space. The co-ed mini-dorm is a mix of doubles and singles. Its wooden floors have long been covered with carpet, its many fireplaces boarded up. Yet, each room has character, one that has been earned throughout the passage of time. The rooms are furnished with standard-issue bunk beds, and unremarkable desks and chairs. But the rooms have loads of space, natural light, and peaked ceilings coupled with an excellent views of the yard ideal for people watching. One of Charlie’s favorite activities when he’s not focusing on his studies. He explained “The tourists are sort of a part of the Yard, their always doing entertaining things like taking selfies, or rubbing the foot of the very same statue of John Harvard which we pee on.” While , with one simple, long corridor, gives the space an intimate feel, one that fosters community and promotes a social attitude; doors are rarely closed both physically and metaphorically.

The dorm developed a reputation and lore among students, due mostly in part to its storied history. During the Revolutionary War the building served as a garrison for soldiers in the Continental Army, housed an informal observatory, and a home for several of our founding fathers. Charlie, a freshman at Harvard studying Philosophy and also a resident of Mass. Hall, explained that there are rumors that somewhere in the basement, John Adams, etched his name into one of the floorboards during his time residing in Mass Hall. Charlie went on to explain that he’s heard of some students sneaking down there in search of the graffiti-esque artifact but hasn't heard of anyone actually finding it. I asked him if he was planning on exploring the basement but he replied with, “I’d hate to go down there and find out it wasn't true, it would ruin some of the mystery about this place I get to call my home.” Then there’s the “ghost” that Charlie explained during our casual conversation only a few weeks ago. He mused that on windy nights, the attic floorboards creak and groan. Charlie ranted a bit about how annoying it can become living in Mass Hall simply because the building is so old. He mentioned how cold it gets some nights, “especially this winter,” and that brown liquid would drip down the wall as a result of the rain leaking through the roof and dirty support beams. Transitioning back to the ghost he mentioned that some students like to pretend its some old alumnus and resident of Mass Hall who lurks in the boarded up chimneys and floorboards.

In the past year Mass Hall, due to both it’s geographical location and its political importance, has seen multiple protests throughout its halls over the past year. In early February, roughly twenty students remained in Massachusetts Hall late on a Thursday night after a group of more than thirty stormed in and occupied the building that morning, demanding that Harvard divest its $35.9 billion endowment from fossil fuels. In this last week these protests have resurfaced, and gathered support. The group who calls themselves “Divest Harvard” have staged a twenty-four-hour weeklong sit-in. The protest started Sunday evening where nearly one- hundred-fifty-students participated, while the numbers dwindled overnight, some remained where they spent the night in sleeping bags laid out in the yard. The Boston Globe reported that, “Scattered sleeping bags, pizza boxes, and laptops singlehowever, that many of them would bestaying put. Morning rallies and evening vigils are scheduled each day this week.” 

A bit about Daniel 

Daniel J. Riva is a fashion photographer and photojournalist who works for the New York based arts and culture magazine, Creem. Daniel, who resides in Los Angeles, CA with his three brothers and two dogs, is the great grandson of German film actress Marlene Dietrich, and is part of the fourth generation in his family to work in the film industry. He has received credits on multiple feature films and has secured a job on yet another this coming summer. In 2014, Daniel was awarded the Young Filmmakers Award at Red Rocks Film Festival for his short Dog Days. In addition, Daniel received the Gold Presidential Community Service Award from the Presidential Office of the United States of America. He currently attends Emerson College where he studies directing for film with a focus in screenwriting.