Since the beginning of the term I have been remarking to friends how stunned I am by the number of emaciated and sick women on this campus. The half-year that I was abroad was sufficient for this aspect of American society to lose its "normalcy" in my eyes. I am shocked. I am concerned.
When I see frail women determinedly jog by me, pushing themselves on, demanding more and more from their tired bodies, I am overcome with sadness. Then I get angry, furious that anorexia and bulimia have become an accepted, "normal" part of Dartmouth life.
How many times a day do I hear women equate splurging on a lemon bar with running an extra mile or skipping dinner with "being able" to drink later that evening? Such everyday remarks are indicative of the eating disorders that pervade our campus. How many of my friends base their self-esteem on their ability to adhere to restricted diets and exercise plans?
"The American Anorexia and Bulimia Association states that anorexia and bulimia strike a million American women every year ... Each year, according to the association, 150,000 American women die of anorexia," writes Naomi Wolf in "The Beauty Myth."
Judging from the lack of dialogue on this campus, I feel as if I am relatively alone in my sense of urgency.
It is a travesty that women are overwhelmingly alone in their struggles with such life-threatening diseases. Think of the support one receives when sick with almost any other disease, terminal or temporary. Think of the care we express when a friend has a simple cast or brace.
I just returned from a visit to the U.S. Holocaust Memorial and Museum in Washington D.C., where I saw picture after picture of the emaciated victims in the concentration camps. Their skeletons make one shudder with outrage at such inhumanity; yet many of the women around us are similarly wasting away beneath their baggy sweatshirts and jeans.
"In the Lodz Ghetto in 1941, besieged Jews were allotted starvation rations of 500-1,200 calories a day," writes Naomi Wolf. "At Treblinka, 900 calories was scientifically determined to be the minimum necessary to sustain human functioning." How many women do we know who believe that they have been "bad" and have splurged if they respond to their bodies' needs and consume more than 1,000 calories per day?
How many women are deprived of a Dartmouth education by their struggles with food? When my class graduates next month, will anyone remember the women in our classes who went home for a leave term -- and never came back? I miss one of my friends who left after freshman year, her body too weak and mind too tired to pursue an education while fighting to remain alive. I'm angry that she never got to explore the many areas that fascinated her.
And what about the education and growth of the sick women who remain among us? The hours spent planning menus, calculating calories, deciding where to eat, plotting how long to exercise, searching for safe places to purge, purging and then starting the cycle all over again; these countless hours rob women of the energy and intellectual space to grow and think.
Most women I know describe their years while sick with anorexia or bulimia as one big foggy cloud. They barely had the energy to do enough work to get by, never mind to really question and delve into what they were learning. Paradoxically, the overwhelming majority of women who suffer from anorexia and bulimia are extremely intelligent, high-achievers whose accomplishments mask their struggles.
Yet what can I do? Any of us who have had an eating disorder, have an eating disorder or have friends who do, can be discouraged by the long, painful and frustrating battle it takes to get better. We feel powerless. Absolving ourselves of responsibility, we'd rather assume that someone else will take action.
There are people on this campus who are searching for ways to help, for ways to challenge the social environment in which these diseases evolve. Yet those of us who are concerned cannot address these problems alone. The community as a whole must bear the responsibility of caring for its members. What good are our Dartmouth diplomas if we have passively watched our friends starve?
We have a group on campus called Students Fighting Hunger that is well-supported.Greek houses sponsor food-drive parties in the effort to broaden awareness and to bring help to the communities around us. Is it not hypocritical to ignore the hunger and sickness within our own community?
What are the women of Dartmouth doing to help one another? Sororities sponsor presentations by Students Against the Abuse of Food and Exercise and informative events about nutrition, but what do they do beyond that to address the sicknesses of their members and of other women?
I have recently heard of women speaking out in their sororities about their struggles with anorexia and bulimia. This gives me hope; perhaps by speaking out these women will not only receive the support they need, but will also encourage others to come forward with their own struggles. The responsibility of speaking out against eating disorders and of supporting the women who suffer from them does not, however, fall solely on the shoulders of sororities.
SAFE plays an important role in educating the campus about eating disorders. How many students, however, take the time to attend their road shows? And how many of the people who are moved by their message forget about it the next day? We shouldn't need a road show to point out to us the dangers of starvation.
If any of us saw a friend making deeper and deeper gouges in her wrists, we would certainly seek immediate help for her. If we saw her falling into drug dependency or alcoholism, we wouldn't dismiss the danger and seriousness of her condition. If a friend left us a suicide note, we would instantly be on the phone with her family and with the deans.
Perhaps because Dartmouth is such an athletic and food-conscious community, manifestations of anorexia, bulimia and disorders in body-image elude us. Exercise and keeping track of calories and fat content are healthy in and of themselves when practiced with moderation. It is not healthy, however, to limit oneself to a diet of rice cakes and yogurt while running 12 miles daily.
What message are we giving to the teenage girls of Hanover who also live in our community and who feel pressured to be outstanding students, strong athletes, thin and beautiful? One Hanover High School sophomore with whom I spoke feels doomed in her struggle to overcome bulimia; her observations of Dartmouth women have lead her to wonder if anyone knows how to eat and exercise "normally."
I write this article in the hope that we, the friends of sick women here at Dartmouth and elsewhere, will not stand by as they starve. It takes so little effort to express concern: a conversation, a phone call, a letter, a blitz. We can approach friends about whom we are concerned, but what are we to do about the women we casually pass on campus or in the halls of the dorm?
Uncomfortable with approaching a woman she didn't know well, a friend of mine addressed her concerns to a friend they had in common. Can you imagine how overwhelming the response would be if everyone who is concerned about someone on this campus responded similarly?
Many women on our campus are trying very hard to overcome their problems with eating. I am most definitely not encouraging the community at large to "confront" women with their concerns. What I ask is that we take the time to find out if the friend we care about is seeking help. That we make an effort to deduce if our support would be welcomed.
I hope we will let the girls and women of this community know that we do not condone the ruining of their bodies, minds and lives.