So they went to Dean Ted Sizer, proposing to supervise a couple of Teaching Assistants, through whom students and faculty in need of help would have to pass to get to Dick and Mike. The Dean agreed and apparently funded the operation out of some discretionary money of his. Then they recruited Herb Simon and me for the new in-house consulting facility. We had an office in the basement of Larsen Hall, where we played gatekeeper-consultant for that school year.
In the event, we found that we could handle something like half of the questions that came to us. When we reached the end of our knowledge, if the client still needed more help, we’d accompany him to Dick or Mike and sit in on their interaction.
Harvard gave me a lot of good instruction. Of all my courses, it was from this little practicum, more than from any other, that I learned the skills and concepts I actually used in later professional life.
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The Day I Became A Man
First, you have to understand that my involvement in fancy schools was a big deal to my beloved parents. Especially to Pappy. I hope to live to record properly the miracles and sacrifices that enabled him to become the first college-educated member of his family; it’s a marvelous story.
Anyway, when I asked the folks if they’d like to have lunch at the Faculty Club, their affirmative response didn’t startle anybody.
We goyim need a suitable translation for the Yiddish “kvell.” “To be delighted” inhabits the same semantic continent, but it doesn’t really reflect Mammy’s and Pappy’s intense and obvious pleasure in the Faculty Club ambience. I don’t recall what we ate, but it was better than OK. Then the waiter (with whom I’d conspired, just a bit) approached with the check. Pappy, of course, went for his wallet. The waiter said, “I’m sorry, sir, but your money is no good here.” Then he reached past Pappy to hand ME the check to sign.
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