The Two-HBS Effect

Same campus, two HBS experiences. The difference a year makes.

“EC year is the best!”

That’s what a bunch of ECs exclaimed to me back when I was an RC. I never quite understood why they said it with such conviction. But the day I stepped back on campus as an EC, I finally felt it: a wave of emotions all rushing in at once. Experience, freedom, gratitude, and yes, even ambiguity.

Coming back as an EC, I’m struck by how the same campus feels like a completely different HBS: less overwhelming, more intentional. From giving advice to RCs to rediscovering gratitude and realizing how much I’ve grown, I see the contrast between the chaos of the first year and the clarity of the second. The lawns, classrooms, and dining halls haven’t changed. Baker Lawn is still buzzing with conversation, Spangler still carries the comforting hum of community, and Aldrich still fills up at 8:30 a.m. with a mix of sleepy faces and steaming coffee cups. Yet the way I see all of it, the way I move through it, feels completely different. The same space, two different HBS experiences. That’s the magic of the EC year.

Last year, ambiguity felt like a storm I wasn’t equipped to handle: questions with no answers, choices with no obvious right path. Should I recruit here or there? Am I doing enough? Am I missing out? This year, that same ambiguity hasn’t gone away, but something inside me has shifted. I’ve learned to live with it, maybe even to welcome it. The unanswered questions don’t feel like dead-ends anymore; they feel like open roads. I don’t panic when I don’t know what’s next. I’ve learned that part of the HBS experience is making peace with not knowing and trusting the process.

And alongside that comfort with ambiguity comes another emotion: the strange reassurance of experience. Suddenly, I’m not the wide-eyed RC fumbling through Canvas deadlines or nervously refreshing 12twenty. Instead, I feel like the “experienced one in the room.” My advice mode switches on by default as I help RCs dodge the pitfalls I once stumbled into. And it isn’t just me. On Baker Lawn, in the iLab after classes, and on walks to Harvard Square, I’ve noticed other ECs patiently answering FOMO-filled questions from RCs. Should I be joining these clubs? How do internationals really navigate the job market? How do I not get lost here? There is something beautiful about the cycle: RCs soaking in wisdom, ECs reliving their mistakes, and everyone just trying to ease the storm for each other. My only hope is that we pause and apply that same wisdom to our own EC year.

The second feeling? Freedom. This year, as I see classmates choose courses they genuinely care about, one friend especially stands out with a spring in his step that I had never noticed in RC year. He seems reborn in Aldrich. His love for the electives he picked makes him look nothing short of a future Baker Scholar. Watching him reminds me of something we’ve all been told but rarely internalize: if you do what you love (or learn to love what you do), excellence is inevitable. This freedom extends beyond academics. In conversations with friends over Spangler muffins or quick lunches between classes, I keep hearing the same sentiment: the absence of guilt. So many of us chased clubs, conferences, treks, and events last year out of obligation, simply because we felt that we “should.” We were worried that, if we didn’t, we’d be missing out. But this year, that sense of guilt is gone. No more FOMO. Just choice. 

And of course, by now, you know people. The campus feels smaller because the relationships feel deeper. The people who were once strangers now feel like anchors. These are the friends who show up when it matters, who make this place what it is. Even the small gestures become reminders of the community that quietly holds us together.

The emotion that I feel even stronger this year than last, though, is gratitude. Walking through campus — this time with my parents — was unlike anything else. Their eyes lit up as they took in the red brick of the buildings, a seat in an HBS classroom, the expanse of Baker Library, the iconic arches of Spangler. In their joy, I saw my privilege reflected to me. The privilege of reliving a life that so many dream of for one more year. And in that moment, even the grind of recruiting, even the late nights, even the uncertainty of what’s next, all felt worth it.

Maybe we’ve grown. Maybe we’ve simply learned from mistakes. Or maybe it’s just the quiet comfort of experience. Whatever it is, the year feels more navigable because of the people who walk beside us, who have our back.

As my section chair would say — complete with the cool and happy emojis — ECs, cherish this. Because before you know it, nostalgia will sneak up on you. You’ll find yourself looking back at Baker Lawn in the fall, Spangler lunches in the spring sunshine, even the bittersweet journey of recruiting, and realize that it’s almost over.

And to the RCs reading this, don’t rush it. Your turn will come. One day, sooner than you think, you’ll be the ones stepping onto campus with that quiet spring in your step, looking around at a new batch of wide-eyed RCs and saying, “EC year is the best.”

Palak Raheja (MBA ’26) is originally from Lucknow, India. She graduated from Lady Shri Ram College, University of Delhi, with degrees in Statistics and Economics. Prior to HBS, she worked at Bain India, and in the Indian consumer and health-tech start-up ecosystem. In her free time, she can be found reading, running, or watching movies.