By Iman Aziz MPA 2027
There is something surreal about being at Harvard Kennedy School. I often stop in the middle of an ordinary day and think: is this real? Every day, I walk into class and the professors teaching or guests speaking have shaped public policy, negotiated peace, led a country, or challenged the world to think differently. I cross the courtyard and run into someone working on climate, democracy, public health, human rights, or a crisis on the other side of the globe. So much of life here feels magical, but finding balance can be a challenge.
Balance at HKS means making peace with tradeoffs.
At HKS, life is busy—really busy. My calendar is full every day. There are classes, events, conversations, readings, lunches, panels, and group meetings—fear of missing out is real here. On any given day, there could be five things I feel are worth going to, but I am one person with one body and a finite amount of energy.
I used to think balance meant doing everything well at the same time, but balance at HKS does not mean mastering everything. For me, it has meant living inside the intensity without letting it flatten me; it has meant making peace with tradeoffs. It has meant:
- accepting that I cannot attend every event
- choosing the opportunities that matter most to me
- leaving room for rest, even when life feels full
- reminding myself that being busy is not the same thing as being intentional
The hardest part of HKS is not finding opportunity. Trust me: opportunity is everywhere. It's actually deciding where your presence matters most.
“The hardest part of HKS is not finding opportunity. Trust me: opportunity is everywhere. It's actually deciding where your presence matters most.”
In the middle of the intensity, there is community.
Despite how full and fast life is, HKS feels warm. There is an openness here that has surprised me. People are accomplished, yes, but they are also generous with their time, their stories, and their encouragement. Professors, classmates, staff, and friends create an environment that feels less intimidating than you might expect from the outside. In many ways, it feels like living in a village. A very ambitious village, obviously, but still a village.
You begin to recognize faces. You build routines. You see the same people in the cafeteria, in the courtyard, in the library, at events, on the walk between buildings. Also, people check in. They remember what you told them last week. They ask how your presentation went, how your family is doing, and if you managed to complete the assigned readings. That kind of warmth matters. It turns a demanding place into a human one.
Balancing graduate school and life at HKS has not been about achieving some perfect formula. It has been about learning how to hold two truths at once: this place is extraordinary, and this place is exhausting. It is inspiring and overwhelming. It is energizing and demanding. Some days feel cinematic. Some days feel simply logistical. Most days are both.
That's what I hold onto at HKS.
I don't focus on the prestige, the events, or the fact that life here can feel almost unreal. I hold onto the underlying theme: in the middle of the intensity, there is community. There is the strange, beautiful experience of being very busy, very challenged, and somehow still deeply glad to be here.
That, to me, is how to live at Harvard.
