A Sweet Escape: Reading Period Reflection
Graphic by Emma Crago
Full from Thanksgiving’s feast, Harvard students return to campus in early December ready for a palate cleanser. Only three days of classes stand between us and reading period, which arrives just in time for relaxation, preparation for finals, and a moment of pause from the academic feast we’ve consumed. But what if reading period were more than a descent into academic purgatory? What if, instead of cleansing our palates, we treated it as an opportunity to devour new experiences?
We’re all familiar with the ritualized procrastination that resembles something not quite work, but not quite break, a spinning wheel of vague academic guilt. Reading period becomes a holding pattern, a limbo where we are technically free but mentally trapped by finals looming just within striking distance. Some of them may even fall during reading period. Books rarely make for an enjoyable palate cleanser—far too wordy. And if we don’t reimagine reading period, we risk surrendering a precious window of opportunity for wandering to the same old grind that already claims the other twelve weeks of the semester.
Here’s the secret most don’t talk about: thanks to Harvard’s wonderfully disjointed academic calendar, many students have up to two full weeks between their last class and first final. In the real world, a two-week unclaimed block of time is considered a vacation, so why aren’t we treating it as such? Most students see this stretch of time as a dangerous indulgence rather than a gift. Reading period may be designed for reading, but who’s to say that reading has to happen from campus? Why not instead satisfy our cravings elsewhere?
As someone from California, Europe usually feels a world away from home. But once at school, the flight to Europe is barely longer than the trip I take just to get there. During my sophomore winter reading period, I booked round-trip flights to Paris for $450. Junior year, I made it to Madrid, Edinburgh, and back to Boston for $550 total plane fare. This year: Dublin and back for $350. All of that to say if you book early enough, Europe is only a relatively cheap flight away until you’re having croissants in Paris, tapas in Madrid, sausage rolls in Edinburgh, or Guinness in Dublin. Yes, Europe is certainly the main course of a reading period adventure. But who doesn’t love a good appetizer?
While Europe is delicious, there are countless other adventures to satisfy your hunger for exploration. Maine, Vermont, and Rhode Island are all just a short bus ride away—significantly shorter (and cheaper) than even the shortest flights abroad. One train ride and suddenly you’re surrounded by trees instead of problem sets. These little appetizers can be as simple as a day trip or easily garnished with an overnight stay to turn a day trip into a full weekend getaway. Fall reading period is an especially perfect time to catch some of that classic New England foliage. And if crossing state lines is too far for you, free museums in Boston, like the Isabella Stewart Gardner, or going thrifting in Davis Square are closer and cheaper.
Yes, yes. You may be asking: Heidi, how is any of this practical? I’m a broke college student who can barely afford laundry, and I genuinely do have p-sets to finish. I recognize that I have been incredibly privileged to have the disposable income (and Europe-based friends) that make these escapades possible. But I firmly believe that a reading period adventure is possible for everyone. You can take a simple day trip somewhere new, walk the long way into Boston, or split travel costs with friends. You can plan around exam dates, leave after a morning study session, or bring your backpack and study on the road. The point isn’t distance or price; it’s stepping off campus during this vacation we call reading period—at least for a day.
The deeper issue is cultural, as usual. Rest is treated like dessert at Harvard, something indulgent, guilty, earned only after suffering. We don’t just glorify burnout; we expect it. Students brag about 10-hour Lamont marathons, color-coded Google Calendars booked up every minute of the day, and productive all-nighters as proof of belonging. We treat exhaustion as proof of ambition, and any sign of ease is evidence that you’re not taking things seriously enough. But belonging isn’t staying in the library until your spine is as bent as some of the books in there. Belonging is knowing when stepping away will make you stronger.
Maybe the best way to prepare for finals is to physically remove ourselves from the place where academic stress pulses strongest. The Harvard bubble is great for many things: intellectual inspiration, brain break, imposter syndrome—but focus isn’t always one of them. Once you’re outside those distinguished academic gates, the pressure to perform productivity fades. No one in Paris, or Maine, or even Somerville cares about your Canvas deadline. Almost exactly one year ago in Edinburgh, I wrote a final paper in one sitting at the pub, mostly because I was finally focused on my own work rather than the anguish of surrounding struggling students. Subtract the performative studying of campus, and you might actually concentrate better.
Start planning your trip for spring reading period and get ready to devour an experience instead of a textbook. Reading Period is a delicious pause in the semester, so we might as well savor it!
Heidi Heffelfinger ’26 (heidiheffelfinger@college.harvard.edu) will be at the Temple Bar by the time this piece is released.