How quickly perceptions change! Just over a year ago, I still felt satisfaction at the sight of a Tesla. I hadn’t bought one myself due to longstanding discomfort with its founder’s quirkiness and unpredictability. I happily quenched my desire to drive an electric car with a Mustang Mach-E and, subsequently, a Kia EV-6. Still, seeing a Tesla on the road reassured me. It meant, I thought, that the transformation of the American automotive fleet was underway and would only gain momentum. No longer would we be beholden to filthy Exxon and the like. They (whoever that is) say the arc of history turns towards progress. A Tesla meant progress.

     Now I’m aware Tesla’s founder is not merely eccentric and unpredictable but also has neo-Nazi sympathies. Furthermore, he played a significant role in electing the psychopath who is called “president.” Finally, he reveled in destroying the careers of thousands of civil servants, most of whom work with diligence and dedication. 

     Currently, my stomach churns with disgust every time I see a Tesla. And that happens often because I live just minutes from the Research Triangle Park in North Carolina. The scientists and tech experts there are among the first to adopt new technology. Many are from other countries and seem blissfully unaware or unconcerned about the ongoing harm to the American political and scientific systems. I fear they won’t be so blissful if their Green Cards start to be revoked.

      Harvard University also represents a shift in my perception. Growing up, when I thought about prestigious schools, I favored Penn and Yale because my brother, Barry, attended both. I opted for a smaller college. Not a fan of rejection, then or now, I didn’t apply to any Ivy League schools. 

     Later, I didn’t think of Harvard much at all. It occupied a vague area of my consciousness associated with stuffiness. When I visited the campus once as an adult, it struck me as traffic-filled and unattractive, its students cocooned in their sense of superiority. (Okay, I may also have felt a pang of jealousy.) 

     About six years ago, my son, Sam, joined a program at Harvard as a post-doc. My perception changed somewhat. In the privacy of my home, I enjoyed using the “Harvard Dad” mug he gave me. Still, I felt unattached emotionally to the institution. If people asked after Sam, disdaining pretension, I’d say he was pursuing research in Boston. Only if they pressed for details would I reveal the Harvard connection.

     Recently, my thinking has shifted considerably. I bought a Harvard T-shirt and wear it proudly around the neighborhood and at the gym. The formerly unsympathetic institution, under assault as it is, is worthy of any slight boost I can provide. Paul Simon once wrote: “Seasons change with the scenery.” I paraphrase loosely to conclude, “Perceptions change with the presidency.”