Study Abroad in The Quad: A New Harvard Tradition

Every Housing Day, Harvard College witnesses a wide array of emotions from first-year students. After receiving news of their future dormitories from upperclassmen, some leap for joy, while others break down crying. This disparity often arises from one location in particular: the Radcliffe Quadrangle, affectionately known as the “Quad,” not the River. 

Located on or around the banks of Cambridge’s Charles River and in Harvard Square, the nine River houses are almost every Harvard undergraduate’s dream, sitting close to classes and campus social life. The three Houses in the Quad, on the other hand, generally exist in undergraduates’ nightmares; a 15-minute-plus walk separates residents from the heart of the College—or so the dominating narrative goes. Such a distance leaves students fearful that they are slated for three years of social isolation and chronic tardiness. To test the veracity of the latter claim, I decided to do the unthinkable: move to the Quad for a week. 

After spending a semester abroad last spring, I’m no stranger to unfamiliar spaces hundreds (or tens) of miles away from home—and I missed the thrill of novelty. Packing my suitcase for Cabot House seemed like a pseudo-study abroad, despite staying in Cambridge. What started as a lighthearted social experiment with a friend became a lesson in empathy and preparedness, and dare I say, the start of a new Harvard tradition.

Now, I’ve told this tale to many of my peers—why shouldn’t I share such a bold experiment? The immediate question that arises is, “Why?” Why on earth would I subject myself to living in the Quad when I have a beautiful and well-located dorm in Eliot House? 

The short answer is journalism. The long answer involves time management. 

This past fall, my good friend in Cabot and I were in the same 9 a.m. thesis seminar, which met twice a week. With four classes, a thesis, and my role as course assistant for a fifth class, my fall schedule was packed, and I spent far too many late nights in Lamont Library. As a result, I occasionally walked into our seminar a few minutes late after one too many snoozes of my alarm, usually at the same time as my Cabot friend. After being criticized for my tardiness, given my 5-minute commute compared to his 15-minute one, I told my friend that I would arrive at the same time, even living in the Quad. And so the challenge was born: could I survive Quad life? 

A few months later, on a chilly Tuesday evening in April, I packed my suitcase, squash backpack, and tote bag, ready to embark on this journey. But with the start of my trek to 60 Linnaean Street also came my first challenge: I missed the quintessential shuttle since I did not have the “Passio GO!” app. This would be the first of many learning experiences in the week to come. After my first 20-minute Quad walk (affectionately known as the “qualk”), I arrived at Cabot and exchanged keys with my friend who would be living in my Eliot House suite for the next seven days. 

After my day one snafu, I woke up extra early the next morning, determined to make the most of my reimagined living situation and embrace a necessary schedule adjustment. I got breakfast with a friend at 9 a.m. (30 minutes earlier than my usual River wake-up time, given my 10:30 a.m. classes), and he gave me the key to enjoying the Quad: slowing down. He explained that when you need to spend more time getting places, you should embrace that extra time in other areas of your life, especially meals. Steer into the skid, if you will. After our hour-long breakfast, I moseyed over to the Art Museum for class and called an old friend on the walk. So far, the Quad didn’t seem too bad.

The rest of the day went as usual. I went from class to class and then to Widener Library with friends. While I don’t normally hang out in my dorm room in the middle of the day, it was slightly odd to me that this option was entirely ruled out. One Quad friend had told me a few weeks ago that he spends a disproportionate amount of time drifting between third spaces, and I, too, felt like a wanderer.

The real logistical problems didn’t start until later that evening when I had Club Squash practice at the Murr Center, a 1.2-mile walk from Cabot. After stressing about timing the night before, I had put my workout clothes in my school bag, so that I could go to practice straight from dinner with a friend in Mather. I was on time to practice since I couldn’t procrastinate by sitting in my River room, but I had to borrow both shoes and a racquet when I got there because I hadn’t wanted to tote those around all day. Fine for a day, but not ideal for a season.

Post-practice scheduling got even more hectic. Back-to-back social plans in the River and then the Quad left me walking into Grendel’s Den without showering and then hustling home to Linnaean Street after a shortened hangout. I see why people invest in scooters.

By Thursday morning, I was feeling like a Quad professional—for better or for worse. I sleepily got another early breakfast with my short-term roommate and then embarked on the 10:10 a.m. shuttle, arriving at class five minutes early. During the drive, I was pleasantly surprised to bump into some of my favorite Quad residents—most of whom I do not see on the regular. Later that day, I got dinner with other Cabotians I hadn’t had a meal with in ages and even crashed a Karaoke Stein in Cabot Café. The day was a reminder that the Quad can create a slight shift in social circles simply by changing who you regularly see. 

But this realization was a double-edged sword. While I loved reinvesting time in old friends, I was reminded how much distance inhibits the depth of some of my other relationships. There’s merit in the notion that living in the Quad can change your social life. Socializing beyond “Neighborhood Nine” requires more scheduling, a hard ask when spontaneity is often what drives college connections.

Though I was relieved to unzip my suitcase in my conveniently located, well-decorated Eliot room, I cannot deny that my brief foray into Quad life was an overall success. Despite temperatures dipping into the 40s one morning, I missed out on any freezing walks in the rain or snow, and my lighter workload made the added commute time less of a burden—senior spring, post-thesis, does not necessitate any late nights in Lamont. But I will also admit that these pros meant I may not have received the full Quad experience (not that I’m complaining).  

That being said, in just a few days, I developed a lot of empathy for Quad residents and learned a thing or two along the way. Now that I’m back on the River, I’m trying to slow down more and get to breakfast earlier to have more relaxed mornings. I’ve also started scheduling more time to hang out with my friends in the Quad, and I’ve successfully been back a few times since my stay.

The purpose of Harvard is to have a transformative experience; to change the way you view and interact with the world. Once we arrive on campus, we often get stuck in our own microcosms, forgetting what lies outside. Living in the Quad allowed me to explore a different way of life, and I’d encourage other Harvard students to participate in this ritual as well. At a school where everyone wants to stay on campus for all eight semesters, students should embrace an often-overlooked place to study abroad: the Quad.

Frances Connors ’26 (maryfrancesconnors@college.harvard.edu) might rank the Quad above Paris for study abroad locations.