Over the years, I've told colleagues and friends about things I have seen or experienced. Many times, people have said that I should write them down so that they won't be lost and forgotten, since some of them might be useful parts of our history. I've been writing them down, without being sure what I would do with them. I decided to gradually post them on this website, and see what reactions I get. I suggest reading from the bottom up (starting with the August 2017 post "The Meritocracy"). Thoughtful and kind feedback would be useful for me, and would help me to revise the exposition to make it as useful as possible. I hope that while you read my stories you will ask yourself "What can I learn from this?" I'm particularly interested in knowing what you see as the point of the story, or what you take away from it. Please send feedback to asilverb@gmail.com. Thanks for taking the time to read and hopefully reflect on them!

I often run the stories past the people I mention, even when they are anonymized, to get their feedback and give them a chance to correct the record or ask for changes. When they tell me they're happy to be named, I sometimes do so. When I give letters as pseudonyms, there is no correlation between those letters and the names of the real people.

Saturday, July 24, 2021

SISSA labock

I was reminded that I was admitted to Radcliffe, and not Harvard, on one of my first days as an undergrad, when the female students were invited to a reception at the elegant Fogg art museum.

I asked a fellow student about the microscopic triangles of bread with no crust and a smidgen of filling. She said they were watercress sandwiches. I didn't bother to ask what watercress was, since I figured it might lead down a bottomless pit of words I'd never heard, and I didn't want to admit my ignorance more than I already had.

I knew that one isn't supposed to eat in a library, so eating and drinking while surrounded by old expensive paintings felt like a transgression.

Someone told us to get on what I now know is a "receiving line". When we got to the head of the line, we were greeted by a regal woman who chirped like a bird. She chirped the same phrase to everyone. To me, it sounded something like "SISSA labock".

After going through the line, I approached a group of classmates who were all asking each other, "Who was that woman, and what was she saying?"

Someone among the cognoscenti replied, "She was saying `Sissela Bok'. That's her name. She's the wife of Derek Bok, the Harvard president."

I felt indignant that the hostess and presumed role model at the reception for female Harvard students was someone who was there as the wife of the college's president, rather than someone who was there in her role as an acclaimed academic. (Sissela Bok did go on to eventually make a name for herself in her own right, though she is perhaps best known as a daughter of accomplished parents, each of whom won a Nobel Prize.) Surely there were distinguished female professors we could have met instead? Little did I know that there were very few female faculty at Harvard, and that that would remain the case for decades.

This was one of several times where Harvard seemed to convey the message that a woman's path to success was more likely to be based on whom she slept with, than on her intellectual accomplishments.