Noah Knopf
New York, N.Y.
History and Literature
Leverett House
For me, the most beautiful part of being a senior on the Harvard men's lacrosse team was reflecting on the cycle of growth and change within our program. When I thought about what it means to be a senior this year, I remembered my struggles as an underclassman on the team. I remembered how I was lost in some ways and how I had difficulty finding my voice. But the upperclassmen on our team were always role models for me. They were my friends, I knew they cared about me, and I felt like I could be myself around them. As I got older, I started to feel more like a part of our group. There were these electric moments — intense communal struggles during condy, knee slides after practice in the snow, long conversations in the d-hall — when I could feel the connection between us crackling and buzzing with energy. When I was younger, I didn't necessarily understand why the older guys took such an interest in me, a quiet kid who didn't play and spent too much time on schoolwork. But as a senior, watching the young guys succeed and enjoy themselves made me so proud! Many times this year when we were able to spend quality time together as a group, the love and the camaraderie of our team surrounded and overwhelmed me. Looking around at all my friends, I felt so lucky and so blessed.
Being a senior in a new era for our program also carried a special meaning for me. I read some simple words from Walt Whitman this fall that inspired me: "I must do the best I can, leaving it to those who come after me to do much better." If there is anything I regret, it's not my lacrosse screwups, but the times when I wasn't nice to someone, the times I overburdened myself with pressure, and the times I walked around beautiful Harvard pissed off. There's just not enough time for that stuff in this life.
It is hard to believe that my time as a competitive lacrosse player is over. This weird and beautiful game has given me so much. I made many friends because of lacrosse. I traveled the world, faced insane challenges and studied at Harvard because of lacrosse. Lacrosse helped me discover depths and dimensions to myself that I hadn't envisioned. And the challenges I faced as a member of the Harvard men's lacrosse team put the idea into my head that I was ready to come out — a challenge I had buried deep in my mind until I was 21 years old. More, even, than the beauty of the sport, I have always admired how lacrosse so readily opens its arms to people willing to play the game with heart and with soul. If I can give one thing back, I hope that I can help the next generation of young people learn to love the game, to learn from the game, and to feel at home in the game of lacrosse no matter who they are.
The great shock of this virus for me was being separated from my team of forty-something friends. If I could go back to my college life for one day, it would be a sunny Friday in the fall. Morning practice, quick stop in my Leverett room, breakfast in the square. Then we post up by the river for a day of good vibes. We used to have a saying on our team, "the boys don't change." The truth is that we are always changing (of course we are) but our best moments together remain. Catch us on the walk in from practice at sunset or finishing a final fall morning sprint. We might be at Boaty having a good spew or throwing snowballs in the courtyard of Lev. Wander the famous Harvard campus, and you are bound to find a few goofy kids with matching backpacks getting ready to make our daily trip across the Charles. For four years I lived the absolute dream. I'll carry it with me in reality for life.
