I suppose it is possible one could go through Dartmouth College and spend four years camped out in the stacks only in pursuit of recognition and a cum laude sticker on their diploma. But of course, I suppose it is possible one could spend $120,000 on sour milk, too. In response to Wednesday's misguided article by Aaron Klein titled, "'98s Just As Smart," in which he vehemently grieves about the '98's getting "screwed as a class in terms of GPA awards like cum laude, magna cum laude, suma cum laude and phi beta kappa," I feel compelled to just as vehemently grieve over Klein's sentiments.
With the knowledge that Klein's (and surely he is not alone) circle of purpose surrounds solely his GPA, and with regards to skeptical administrative maneuvers like including median grades on our report cards (thereby blatantly encouraging unhealthy academic competition and comparison), I must wonder about the circle of people that surround me. If, in fact, we were all a skewed bunch of grade-hungry wolves and Dartmouth College was our den, oh what a sorry place this would be indeed.
Let me first not over-idealistically present myself as the second-coming of Henry David Thoreau, and feign that the letters G-P-A always fall on deaf ears, for surely grades are important to me to a certain degree. On the totem pole of priorities, however, grades carve out a pretty small notch. I will save you from hackneyed columnist cliches about the inherent merit of learning, but then again cliches became cliche's for a reason, right?
In line with the recent presidential debates and in case you refused to expose your eyes to Wednesday's literary germs, allow me to quote some lines from his piece, and then respond with a few short rebuttals of my own. Prefacing this statement by informing you that graduation honors are doled out based on a comparison scale against the previous class, Klein contends that "because of the new distributives, our class could end up with an average GPA that is a tenth of a point lower than the average 97's average GPA." Forgive my brief veering from eloquence, but for lack of better words, who cares?
Klein's disillusionment persists, claiming that "in the long run, these numbers will come back and stabilize," and "that is why no one has discussed this issue." Actually, no one has discussed this issue because we would be demoralizing ourselves and our principles, as well as surrendering ourselves to a tainted line of thought by investing the time between two snooze buttons to this "me, me" grade issue.
Klein then cries out, "Hey, why didn't anyone tell me this when I was applying? We all know why." Apparently Klein doesn't have the slightest clue. Can you imagine the Dartmouth College application with a precursor in red, highlighted, bold print at the top of the first page reading: "If you have no idea what schooling is about, are a slave to grades, want nothing out of college but some Latin praise on your diploma, and are seeking the easiest place in which to attain such praise, you need not apply to Dartmouth College?" Enough said.
In squandering hopes of the College doing something about the '98s fictitious academic plight, Klein tells us that "The question is, does the College care enough?" Perhaps that question would be better stated, "Do students like Klein care enough about what really matters?"
In Klein's "Paul Revere's Ride" closing, he calls forth to the class of '98 to come together and rally around his appeal to make a change so that our efforts in the classroom will not go unrecognized. By doing just this, we will not come together, but instead fall apart at the seams, and in the process, our academic efforts would become truly fruitless and go forever unrecognized. Klein tells us, "If we fail to do so (take a stand), we will not receive our deserved honors." If Dartmouth's primary purpose is to send us all off with "suma cum laude's and a smile," U.S. News and World Report is annually far too generous in heralding us as the seventh most distinguished learning institution among the nation's elite. While I don't double as a disciple of Descartes, I believe "I think, therefore I am" sounds slightly better than "I am Phi Beta Kappa, therefore I am."
T. H. White wrote, "There is only one thing for it then -- to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the thing for you." Learning is the things for all of us.
