Peter Mulcahy, former colleague at The Harvard Crimson, collaborator of Gadfly

Adam Goldenberg is by far the most talented writer I met in my four years as an editor at The Harvard Crimson. His writing is witty and smart, with a style and erudition that belie his 21 years. Adam’s columns do what editorial writing is supposed to do: they strike at complacency, underscore absurdity and deflate vanity (Harvard has plenty of each.). His columns challenge readers — be they students or administrators or those outside the university — to challenge their opinions and assumptions, to be dissatisfied with the official story. At a place like Harvard — proud, even obstinate, jealously protective of its traditions — that takes guts and, moreover, talent. Fortunately, Adam has both. As such, people listen, administrators respond.

At The Crimson, the competitive process whereby executive editors are chosen is called “The Turkey Shoot.” Candidates write a lengthy statement of their ideas and plans for a position and go through an exhaustive, almost ridiculous interview process before a winner is selected. Adam was a shoo-in to become Associate Editorial Chairman—a prestigious position—but had doubts. He was afraid the administrative responsibilities would take away time from what was really important: writing. This is a position that plenty of candidates would have loved to have on their résumé and it was his for the taking, but he walked away. He wasn’t satisfied with the state of media at Harvard; The Crimson was too institutionalized, too safe, and totally unchallenged. He thought he could do more from the outside. I was on the selection committee, and tried to persuade him to reconsider. He ended up bringing me to his side. Together we started a blog and podcast, The Gadfly, which totally shook up the Harvard media status quo. Adam scooped the hundred-strong news department at The Crimson more than once and twice earned Gadfly a nomination for “Best Alternative Media Outlet” for higher education from U.S. News’ Paper Trail in the process. Adam was far ahead of the curve, and everyone else is still trying to catch up.

He’s nearly seven feet tall and has a beautiful baritone singing voice. He’s a Canadian liberal who dresses like a monarchist. As a member of the Hasty Pudding Theatricals, he has a well developed sense of whimsy. (And looks great in drag.) But more than anything, it’s the writing that makes him unique. (You can’t get it from reading this — you’ll have to read his columns.) There’s a fluency and humor and sophistication there that is rare in general, but especially among writers our age. He's also utterly fearless. That's a formidable combination.

Steven Duque, publisher of The Harvard Voice

Toward the end of this past year, I chatted with Adam frequently about his life decisions post-graduation. As a well-noted scholar, campus leader and recognizably talented writer, Adam had many choices. Among them were acceptance letters from his pick of graduate schools, a teaching position at the prestigious Belmont Hill School, and an unpaid internship working as a policy and strategy intern at the United Nations World Food Programme. Adam was racked with indecision.

One particular afternoon, however, I asked him why he would pursue each different life path. He paused momentarily -- an atypical state for the constantly moving, 6'7" Adam Goldernberg -- and he told me that he didn't know. That Adam didn't know something came as a great surprise to me, as he always seems to be in-the-know, and, more pertinently, self-aware. It was an uncommon response from such an outspoken gentleman.

I asked Adam, "Well, what do you want -- more school, prestige or to save the world?" Adam responded, "Damn it, Steven. I don't know." I said, "Well, man, think about it."

The next time I spoke to Adam, I asked him if he had made his decision yet. He said yes; he would be going to Rome to work at the headquarters of WFP, and then to Kampala to work in the field. He told me that he wanted to devote himself to something good and truly good.

He would defer his enrollment in graduate school and would forsake the prestige of the highly coveted teaching position. The rest of that stuff can wait, he said. I told Adam, "Well, I'm a bit surprised, but at the same time, I'm not."

I shouldn't have been surprised. Adam Goldenberg is going to save the world one day -- whether by his words or actions -- and when he does, none of us should be surprised.

Nick Melvoin, friend and colleague

Adam is one of the best college writers I've had the pleasure of reading. His columns are always thought-provoking, well-written, and fair. He engages with current events -- from school related to international politics -- and does so in an appealing manner. He is most certainly the most-read Harvard columnist, and for good reason.

Source | The Harvard Crimson
Any Harvard student with the balls to participate in the Reserve Officers’ Training Corps (ROTC) deserves our respect. Quite frankly, ROTC doesn’t sound like a whole lot of fun.

Source | The Harvard Voice
Apple cobbler. Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. Passion fruit mousse. Farfalle pasta with turkey sausage. Behold the four horsemen of the feminist apocalypse.

Source | The Harvard Crimson
J. K. Rowling. They invited J. K. Rowling to speak at Commencement. In four months, I’m going to graduate, having dropped hundreds of thousands of undervalued Canadian dollars on a so-called Harvard education, and then I’m going to get to listen to J.K. Rowling. J. K. freaking Rowling. Awesome.

Source | The Harvard Crimson
Life at Harvard is pretty dreary. Between the cold, the slow Internet, and the demise of our underage booze kitty, I’m hard pressed to do more these days than lie in bed and imagine I’m surfing the Web, drunk.

Source | The Harvard Crimson
You know that funny foreign kid? The one who lives in Eliot? He talks all weird-like and wears really tight jeans.