Why do you wish to come to Harvard?
The reasons that I have for wishing to go to Harvard are several. I feel that Harvard can give me a better background and a better liberal education than any other university. I have always wanted to go there, as I have felt that it is not just another college, but is a university with something definite to offer. Then too, I would like to go to the same college as my father. To be a “Harvard man” is an enviable distinction, and one that I sincerely hope I shall attain.
April 23, 1935
John F. Kennedy
To understand the five unassuming sentences that secured John F. Kennedy’s admission to Harvard, we need to rewind and place them in the broader context of the Kennedy family’s rising prominence. By the mid-1930s, the Kennedy name was already a symbol of ambition, privilege, and relentless drive. And that’s not a coincidence—it was a deliberate design by the family’s patriarch, Joseph P. Kennedy Sr.
Joe Kennedy wasn’t just another wealthy Boston Irishman; he was a titan. A banker, investor, and political operator, he had maneuvered his way to the upper echelons of American society, smashing through barriers that kept Irish Catholics on the outside looking in. He was ruthless in his pursuits, accruing wealth through banking, bootlegging (allegedly), and Hollywood investments, and he had already set his sights on securing his family a place in the American aristocracy.
But for all his financial success, Joe Kennedy understood that real power in America wasn’t just about money—it was about legacy. He had Harvard stamped into his DNA, attending the school himself and ensuring that his sons would follow in his footsteps. For Joe, Harvard wasn’t just a university; it was a gateway to legitimacy, a way to plant the Kennedy name firmly in the American establishment.
When young Jack Kennedy sat down to write his application essay in 1935, he was already carrying the weight of these ambitions. His older brother, Joe Jr., was the golden child, a star athlete and scholar already at Harvard and seemingly destined for greatness. Jack, by contrast, was the second son, the sickly one, often in his brother’s shadow. He’d suffered from a litany of health issues throughout his youth, from scarlet fever to chronic back pain, and his academic record was inconsistent. Yet he had something his father valued immensely: charm. Even at a young age, Jack had a knack for winning people over, a trait that would serve him well in his future.
The Kennedy pedigree didn’t end at Joe Sr.’s wealth or the boys’ educational prospects. The family’s ties extended to politics and influence. Joe Kennedy had built strong relationships with the Roosevelt administration and was positioning himself for a possible role in government. He was determined to leverage his connections to ensure his sons’ success, molding them not just as individuals but as embodiments of a broader Kennedy vision—a dynasty that could rival the Rockefellers or the Roosevelts in shaping America’s future.
So, when Jack wrote those five sentences, it wasn’t just a teenager applying to college. It was a Kennedy making a formal bid to enter the institution that had long served as a launchpad for America’s elite. The essay doesn’t boast about Jack’s personal ambitions because it didn’t need to. His family’s ambitions were doing the heavy lifting. Harvard knew who the Kennedys were. And while Jack might not have dazzled on paper, he carried with him the promise of a name that was already making waves.
What’s remarkable, looking back, is how little those five sentences hint at the extraordinary path that lay ahead. In 1935, Jack wasn’t the charismatic leader who would electrify a nation. He was just a kid from a well-connected family, doing what was expected of him. But the Kennedy pedigree wasn’t just about privilege; it was about the relentless pursuit of excellence. And even if Jack wasn’t the obvious torchbearer for that vision yet, his acceptance to Harvard was another step in the Kennedys’ march toward becoming one of the most consequential families in American history.