When I should have been springing forth with vivacity this past spring, I found myself falling out of love with Dartmouth. In an agonizing contrast to my high-spirited, over-zealous freshman fall persona, I had burnt out my flaming enthusiasm for literature and languages, laden with an intractable sinus infection the whole term and slumping under the weight of homesickness.
With a respite of a mere few weeks in between spring and summer terms, I dreaded the Coach ride back to Dartmouth, my supposed home away from home whose tranquil greenery now threatened me with crippling thoughts of solitude. More than halfway through the term, however, I have been fortunate enough to gradually awaken once again to the silver linings of this place --— the inspiring professors, the dedicated friends, the enormous allure of the knowledge promised within the halls of decades- and sometimes centuries-old buildings.
This issue of The Mirror sheds light on ways to step over the proverbial sophomore slump, but it also highlights the stories of individuals whom many assume unwilling to talk about their problems. It is about the labor and pain of speaking out but the necessity of doing so. It is about naming our fears and speaking our doubts aloud, so that in the process, we may find the silver linings to keep us dreaming when our reckless optimism fails.