During a heated text message exchange back in March, a college roommate of mine took umbrage with me cheering on Harvard in a basketball game. But this wasn’t just any other basketball game. It was the 2nd round of the NCAA tournament known as March Madness. The Ivy League champions, having defeated a more well-respected and well-known opponent in the 1st round, were in the midst of a furious comeback against a perennial title contender, the Spartans of Michigan State.

Alas, the brains of Harvard succumbed to the muscle of MSU in a game for the ages. The Harvard Crimson, a band of super intellectual b-ballers made a name for themselves with that showing, along with their back-to-back-to-back NCAA tournament appearances. Veritas.

Veritas is Latin for “Truth” and appears on Harvard’s coat of arms. Thus, I typically refer to Harvard as simply, Veritas. And I think I’m allowed to refer to Harvard as Veritas. After all, I went to school there.

No, seriously. I did. I went to Veritas. Not in a Matt Damon in “Good Will Hunting” attends MIT type of way; I wasn’t cleaning the bathrooms and scribbling unintelligible theorems on blackboards.

 

 

I actually attended Harvard. Excuse me, Veritas.

From 2006 to 2008 I attended Veritas as a part-time student in order to complete my pre-medicine requirements.

My association with the most world-renowned academic institution is a bit convoluted thought… I must clarify that I attended the University, not “The College.”

The University includes “The College”, the medical school, the law school, the divinity school, the Kennedy school of government, and various other entities that do not fall under the umbrella of the undergraduate education.

I attended the Extension School, an entity designed for working stiffs who want to take Harvard-level courses in a variety of academic areas. The courses meet in the evenings and on weekends so students can torture themselves at work all day and then try to pass Organic Chemistry by attending lectures two times a week for 4 hours apiece. I get heart palpitations and a migraine simply recalling those days.

[Note: the Coat of Arms for the Extension School displays two bushels of wheat and a burning lamp. The two bushels of wheat represent the original cost of attendance of the Extension School’s precursor, the Lowell Institute. The burning lamp signified the “learning by night” philosophy of the School. Let me tell you, I paid by credit card due to my inability to harvest wheat and I studied by overhead lamp; as you may know, fire codes have been updated since the early 20th century.]

While I completed my coursework at Veritas, I mingled with many undergraduates in the Science Center and around campus. During those instances, I never heard anyone refer to themselves as a student of “The College.” I even dated a graduate of “The College” while I was living in nYc. She never once referred to it as “The College”, only as Harvard.

Yet, during my return visits to Boston and Cambridge over the past several years, my attendance at Veritas has arisen in casual conversation. On these occasions, I have been asked if I attended “The College” or the University.

It seems that the undergraduates at Harvard have become even more snooty in the past half-decade.

One such incident occurred while I was volunteering overnight at a homeless shelter in Cambridge. This particular shelter was run by Veritas undergrad students, which in and of itself, I thought was pretty cool.

Before our shift started, we went around in a circle and discussed how we came to be volunteering that night. Each of the undergrads pointed out that they attended “The College” when introducing themselves. I made sure to indicate I had gone to the Extension School.

 

Obviously, I wouldn’t want them to think I’d scored a 1600 on my SAT’s… Oh, it’s out of 2400 now? Thank you for informing me dearest student of “The College.” Go to hell.

Though I wasn’t trying to impress any of these scions of intelligence, I made sure to slip in the fact that I was about to begin my third year of medical school. It didn’t faze them.

Oh, you aren’t impressed because you go to “The College” and will be starting your own NGO in Zamibia when you graduate? Have fun! Watch out for Malaria!

During the aforementioned text exchange, my former roommate made sure to point out that I had graduated from Miami University, commonly referred to as “The Harvard of the Midwest“, not the actual Harvard University. It was for this reason that he insisted I could not claim allegiance to Veritas.

[Note: The administration at Miami liked pushing the idea of “The Harvard of the Midwest” during my undergraduate years. They often cited the ivy-laden brick buildings on campus and the focus on undergraduate education as a reason to make such a comparison. Let me set the record straight: Miami is no Veritas. It would be accurate to say there are super intelligent people at Miami who are on par with students attending Harvard. However, the sheer number of people on Harvard’s campus of  incredible intelligence transforms it into a verifiable cesspool of academic excellence. Miami could never match the transformative properties inherent in such a place. Though, I must say, Love and Honor.]

Other than his undergraduate and graduate degrees from Miami, this roommate also received his MBA from Boston College, so he tried rebuffing my intense interest in the basketball game by reminding me he actually has a degree from a Boston-based university. I quickly pointed out that Boston College didn’t make the NCAA tournament and has been slaughtered by Veritas the last two times they played. In. Your. Face.

I was steadfast in my allegiance to Veritas, despite his repeatedly insisting I have no such claim.

My allegiance goes further than burning the midnight oil at the Science Center; I watched Jeremy Lin carve a hole into the heart of the Cornell defense before anyone outside of Cambridge had ever heard of “Linsanity.” I made scathing and disparaging social media remarks when Tommy Amaker was hired to be the Veritas head coach in 2007 and summarily dismissed half of his senior class a week before school started because he didn’t think they were good enough to play for him.

 

And I have routinely attended their games when I return to Cambridge, cheering them on despite Amaker’s questionable recruiting. I even watched them get diced to pieces by a rabid Columbia team in nYc in the winter of 2013; Veritas would go on to win the Ivy League Championship as well as their first March Madness game, just as this year’s 2014 team did.

So I feel justified in claiming allegiance to Veritas for a myriad of reasons. I’m certainly more aligned with Veritas than any number of people who claim another university or college they never attended, but wear a hoodie, sweatshirt or baseball cap on which the schools logo is emblazoned. Though, for the record, I do own a Veritas baseball cap and crimson t-shirt with “Harvard” across the chest.

But I think I’m allowed to wear such things. I did go to Veritas. I mean, Harvard. No, I really did.