Thesigns which herald spring are all around us: the trees send out new leaves, the grass on the green grows increasingly verdant and the days of sunshine grow longer.
Nature is not the only thing in bloom in Hanover, however. The town's more than 4,000 young students are also in their prime. Now youth is a good thing, but it is fleeting, which makes it imperative that we reflect closely on the way in which we will spend these precious years.
There is no doubt of the physical prowess of so many Dartmouth students in the sports they choose to indulge in, nor is there doubt, at least on paper, of the intellectual endowment of the Dartmouth student body. One only has to look at the test scores and class profiles! Sure enough, one is quickly convinced of the remarkable talent concentrated in so small a place.
Yet it is one thing to be able to do well in a classroom setting, and quite a different thing to be capable of new, original insights. It is one thing to be groomed for the halls of power and something entirely different, once in power, to use it in novel and effective ways. Being influential in the artistic world and being a source of creativity within this world are not one and the same thing. The point I am making, if it were not already obvious, is that while there is no shortage of diligence in the classroom, outside it there is a remarkable paucity of self-initiated intellectual discourse.
The state of the campus student organizations will bring the problem into sharper relief. There are no visible organizations for those interested in the arts, mathematics and literary issues; there is not a single active historical society; and the debating club keeps such a low profile as to sometimes cast into doubt its existence. Why should this be so? With the above scenario, what evidence is there that we give any of the things we are supposedly learning serious thought?
The lack of any intellectually minded organizations is part of a larger problem, namely how to raise for discussion serious matters at Dartmouth and be taken seriously. Why should it be the case that when one wishes to talk about Bauhaus architecture one ends up discussing the Brady Bunch instead? It seems we cannot see ourselves in the role of participants in serious discussion. Even when seminars and discussion sessions are held, they are hardly ever student-organized affairs. Were it not for the events forced upon us by the administration, the level of intellectual activity on this campus, low enough as it is, would be nearly nonexistent.
In fact the only serious topics which do get raised for discussion here at Dartmouth are invariably of a political nature. Be it women's liberation or the importance of welfare reform, there is hardly any topic on the agenda which has no obvious political connection. The impression a casual observer would gather from the posters hung on all our notice boards is that when we are not partying all we do is spend our time grooming for office.
This is truly a sad state of affairs. If the reader does not yet see why this is so, it would pay to think of what might be in the place of this pervasive anemia. With avenues for level-headed discourse, we could see at Dartmouth a flourishing of creativity the likes of which marks an epoch. One only has to look at the Bloomsbury group to catch a glimpse of what might be. This bunch of Cambridge University friends consisted of such talents as the renowned novelists E.M. Forster and Virginia Woolf, John Maynard Keynes, the great economist, and the notable artist Roger Fry. Their association, which enabled each to match wits against the others, greatly contributed to the growth of every member.
Apart from the benefit mentioned above, another would be that a different state of affairs would give many a true alternative to the weekend drinking scene. We would have a chance to interact with people with whom we share genuine interests, which would greatly facilitate the forming of new friendships.
No doubt, many will say that all I have said herein has been said by others before me. I grant that this is true, but that is no reason for me not to say it again. Whenever Cato the Elder stood up at the end of every meeting of the Roman senate to call for the destruction of Carthage, he was laughed at. The stubborn old man was steady in his ways, and his message finally got through to his fellow Roman senators. How much more reason there should be to stand fast in this more constructive calling.
To end on a positive note, it is fitting to paraphrase the words of a certain Chairman Mao, even if he had not originally meant them in the same positive light in which this author does: let a hundred flowers bloom, and a hundred schools of thought contend!
