Valerie J. Macmillan

Poet, Traveler Brown Ain't Chicken

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"I Ain't Chicken," dares the poem Tammy L. Brown '98 chose to lead off the collection of her poems she

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T here's a Hal Ketchum song about life in small-town America that has haunted me throughout my time at Harvard.

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L auralee Summer '98 never had many toys. But the girl who moved 20 times before her mid-teens did have

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I magine you're listening to a male country-western singer describing his ideal woman. Take a guess as to what he'd

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L ooking ahead to Commencement, most seniors realize that it's imperative to keep their families both entertained and out of

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Ah, the Harvard vocabulary. In this week's plea for our money, Dean of the Faculty Jeremy R. Knowles noted that

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Bathed in blue light, musical legends gaze down in bas relief from the ceiling at House of Blues, welcoming a

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M ajor Henry Higginson must be lonely. One of the all-time best friends of undergraduates is stuck presiding over the

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In accusing the Curley family of looking for revenge, the staff is making assumptions it cannot be sure are true.

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T he antler chandelier remains. It now hangs in a light and airy central stair hall which is decorated in