Pre-Frosh Are People Too!

Well, here I am, Landis Wilmsford's roommate, once again filling in for the advice column. Landis has taken off for greener pastures yet again, this time to hone his writing skills as an intern with The Socialist Worker.

Before you begin reading, I want you all to sit back and reflect a while, because your freshman year is almost over. Now don't cry! You still have a lot of time left here, and if you're female, you've got plenty of time to meet and get to know me. But soon, you'll take your place as sophomores, and a new class of freshmen will arrive.

These fresh impressionable youths who will make up the Class of 2000 have probably already arrived on your doorsteps. But you may not know them as such. You label them with the semi-derogatory term "pre-frosh". But, my friends, I am here to tell you that pre-frosh are people, too. It might not seem like it, but most of them will be students here next year.

It's your duty to make them feel welcome. I am always greatly disturbed when I hear stories of how hosts have abused their pre-frosh. Like people who leave their pre-frosh at parties to fend for themselves. That is extremely rude. When my pre-frosh were here, I handcuffed them to me so I wouldn't be able to leave them even if the thought crossed my mind. One time that weekend, I had to tie them to the bed because I couldn't resist my urge to abandon them. We actually had a lot of fun that night, because I don't think you need alcohol to make friends anyway. We played this game where I had to try and guess what they were saying, because they were gagged.

Another common tactic used to humiliate the pre-frosh is giving them the wrong directions. Why does this happen? Often I hearken back to my own pre-frosh memories, and the time somebody told me that Sever Hall (which is NOT the cafeteria, by the way) was in Central Square. I vowed that I would never do that to my pre-frosh, so I guided them all weekend and attended all of the activities with them. I even got three girls' phone numbers at the ice cream bash, although I always wondered why the numbers were out of service when I called them. They must have just made a mistake because they were embarrassed around such a cute guy.

But back to my point. None of these abuses of pre-frosh have to happen. When my pre-frosh were here, I treated them with decency, courtesy, and respect. I popped my head in when they were showering to see if they needed another bar of soap or an extra towel. I tucked them in at night and told them bedtime stories. Heck, I even showed them the alarm clock and calculator functions on Landis' computer.

For me, pre-frosh weekend was a rich and rewarding experience. What a feeling to be the first representative of Harvard to shape a young mind. Hopefully, our late night study sessions on Kant or what not taught them much more than the Grille ever would. And, most importantly, I hope my kind, gentle manner showed them that Harvard is much more than a first-rate academic institution--it's also a great place to socialize and have fun.

Well, freshmen, I hope you enjoy pre-frosh weekend. It's a great chance to meet new people and develop lasting friendships. Speaking of friendships, I have to go to University Hall and tell them Landis isn't coming back. What a great practical joke--I can't wait to see his face when he tries to register next year! So, until my next column, this is Gilbert Peters, Esq., saying, good night.