As a Dartmouth student, you need not look any further than page three of your Handbook to see the Principle of Community by which we are all expected to abide. In June of 1980, the Board of Trustees endorsed this Principle, voicing its commitment to an appreciation for diversity and an environment where the "rights and interests of others" are respected. Yet, more than sixteen years later, we are still confronted with blatant violations of this principle, blatant sexism and homophobia, every time we enter the Reserve Corridor.
One of the few air-conditioned study spots on campus, the Reserve Corridor remains highly populated during summer term. Surrounded by vibrantly colored murals and good friends, it is easy to let your eyes skip over the sea of blue and black ink, carvings and permanent marker that cover the tabletops there. Still, every once in a while, someone pauses to read the handwriting on the desks. Some students laugh, some write back and some are horrified.
Last summer, Ellen Sullivan '97 wrote her final project for Women's Studies 10 on an analysis of the graffiti. After hours spent poring over the seemingly endless reading material the Reserve graffiti provides, Sullivan noticed that the comments went beyond those of frustration with love, school and life in general. What she saw was a reflection of misogynist, heterosexist and sexually violent attitudes which she then analyzed and compiled for her reader.
Among Sullivan's recorded writings were derogatory marks about individual Dartmouth men and women, bitter generalizations on the sex lives of some Greek houses and expressed hatred toward homosexuals.
While I am not in complete agreement with some of Sullivan's conclusions, her graphic and disturbing examples served as a personal wake-up call.
A few desk excerpts read:
"A woman should only open her mouth to suck a d--k."
"Some Dartmouth men, stalwart and hairy/with much beer had become over merry./On the green around 3/They were shrieking with glee/"Come on out, we are burning a fairy."
"Ode to 'F--ing Bitch:' You caused me much pain/made me insane/When I find that mother f--er/I'm going to shoot her f--ing brain."
If written on a woman or homosexual's door, these words would immediately become a rallying point for campus politics, an issue of vandalism and a concern of administrators and students alike.
Why then should they be tolerated on the tables of the Baker Library, the physical and intellectual heart of campus?
Some may argue that if you don't like the graffiti, you shouldn't go to the Reserve Corridor, however this response is both insulting and absurd.
The Reserve Corridor is a public space. It is one of the few locations where course material can be put on reserve, and its maintenance is financed by each of our tuition payments.
Though some of the writing on the Reserve Corridor desks may be harmless or even potentially empowering, the recurrent appearance of sexist, heterosexist and sexually violent writing cannot be overlooked. Overall, the desks are not a forum where otherwise silenced groups speak out, but where those with the strongest, loudest voices continue to dominate.
If the Reserve graffiti is, as some may argue, a historical archive of Dartmouth's past-- if it is indeed a part of the Dartmouth tradition -- I submit it just the sort of tradition we can all do without.
As first-year students, one of our first exercises was filling out forms in the Reserve Corridor. Is this really how we want to welcome the Class of 2000, with an introduction to hate?
What purpose do orientation week programs supporting tolerance and respect really serve unless we, as students and administrators, as members of a community, decide to take a stand against sexism, heterosexism and sexual violence?
The current state of the Reserve Corridor requires drastic action. Addressing the problem table by table is not enough. When an environment exists in which graffiti appears to be tolerated, it will continue to occur. All the graffiti needs to be removed, as simultaneously as possible.
The time has come for each of us to count ourselves among the horrified, to stand behind our Principle of Community and to affect change. If you believe in the ideals of this Principle and accept your responsibility to uphold them, please contact John Crane, Administrative Services Librarian. He has expressed a commitment to help eliminate the language of hate pervading the Reserve's graffiti and welcomes your suggestions and participation.
Note: Because it is impossible to cite each example Ellen Sullivan provides, I urge you to read her article in its entirety, as it appears in this past spring's issue of "Intersections". While I ideally would have located Sullivan's excerpts on the tables myself, I have relied on her data in the interest of time. It is not important whether these exact statements remain or not [one or two tables in the Reserve Corridor are chosen to be refinished each year]. They serve only as examples of a widespread problem.
