“Singled Out @ HKS”
“Don’t bring sand to the beach” was the advice my family and friends gave me as I packed up not only my possessions but also my personal life in preparation for grad school. Though I had just recently begun a very serious relationship with a guy whom I thought would be my future baby daddy, this blessing had come at the worst possible time and to no surprise, the universe hadn’t given us a chance to build the necessary firm foundation; the type that would withstand those infamous three words…Long Distance Relationship.
So as half of my soul lingered in a U.S. city that will remain nameless, the other half of me ventured bravely to Harvard in search of the Bigger and the Better…in terms of educational opportunities and men.
But nothing could have prepared me for the ever-perplexing conundrum that is DATING at HKS. The mythical, plentiful, pristine beach that I had envisioned looked more like the Jersey Shore and though I tried to keep an open mind, by the end of my first semester my hopes of finding a study partner-turned-boyfriend were dashed quicker than chicken wings at Quorum Call. It seemed most every guy fell into four categories:
1. Mr. Friendzone - sure he saves you a seat in class but could you really ever just “go there?”
2. Mr. Newly Hatched Player - he certainly wasn’t a stud before but when he wears a Harvard shirt no one can tell him otherwise. He’s still working on his game though. A first date at Redline?!?!
3. Mr. Mid-Career - he thinks that this year is a prime opportunity to show off his Porsche and scoop up an impressionable 20something. Bizarre.
4. Mr. Newlywed - he’s too good to be true, which is why he’s taken.
There were, of course, exceptions but too many of us single gals were vying for the attention of the remaining few pieces of eye candy that had not yet been domesticated. As I dabbled in the dating pool I quickly decided that it was just not worth it. Long gone were the days of fancy meals and chivalrous courtship. Dating at the Kennedy School was worse than high school; there at least I could expect to be offered a ride en route to the movies. But the worst part was the pressure, real or perceived, that my peers and I felt to keep our rendezvous a secret. Heaven forbid you are seen with a different date at Winter Formal than at the Dean’s Reception! By the time summer break hit I was ready; not just to escape the New England weather but also to re-evaluate my romance strategy.
As second year began, I was almost not even disappointed that they no longer printed the infamous HKS Picture Book; our version of eHarmony. Somewhere in between people watching in European cafes and attending various friends’ weddings and/or baby showers I realized that some things are just more fun when you are flying solo. This undoubtedly provided me with a comparative advantage when I returned to school and found that one has remarkably more time to pursue their passions, attend once-in-a-lifetime lectures, and organize every event known to man when you are focused exclusively on making just yourself happy. I was so busy embracing every unnecessary opportunity in my final year of school that I almost didn’t notice Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome who lingered daily to talk to me after class. (I may have been too hasty in categorizing him into the previously stated categories.) After a few proud weeks of playing hard to get, I acquiesced to the idea that maybe I had stumbled upon a sandy inlet at the HKS beach after all. Two months later, I now actually find myself comfortably talking about what was once a whisper-only affair.
So would I recommend dating at the Kennedy School? Hell No! But then again, API-202 taught us a lot about the presence of outliers…
Comments
Got something to say?
