There are some things in life you can depend on. Every day in elementary school, at the stroke of noon my class would march single-file to the lunchroom. As if guiding airplanes to the runway, the lunchroom aides channeled the lines of children straight onto the benches of the beige lunch tables. Knowing this was to be the case, it was very important that I strategically position myself in line between two of my friends, lest I be forced to sit near someone I didn't like -- in seven-year-old terms, a boy.
Every day I would open up my brown paper lunch bag and see what mom had packed. Eyes widening with excitement, I tore back the paper to discover that once again, I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and matching red apple. And without fail, the apple pressed firmly into the sandwich, making an soggy apple imprint and rendering the whole lunch solidly unappealing.
In painful contrast, the other kids always seemed to have exciting lunches -- powdered mini-donuts, devil dogs, cheetos, and bright day-glow fruit drinks. After months of dispassionately nibbling on mealy apples and limp bread, trashing my lunch became preferable to a half hour of carbohydrate torture. Yet to my amazement, as undelectable as my lunch seemed to me, the phrase "I'll trade you" seemed to work miracles. The idea of sacrificing a fruit rollup to receive my nasty fruit was perfectly inconceivable to me, but for some of my pigtailed peers, it apparently made sense.
Trade delicious sugary treats for whole wheat bread? From an early age, it became obvious that there are a wide variety of people out there. But moving forward in time ten years, when I came to Dartmouth in the fall of 1995, somehow I forgot that wisdom.
I enjoyed my DOC trip immensely, hiking beside my soon-to-be best friend. But all around me I saw hikers, canoers, and rock climbers-- mobs of flannel and muddy boots. I've never been outdoorsy, but everyone around me seemed to be. "I'm not like these people," I thought.
I returned to campus only to find big shmobs of people with equally big smiles repeating the mantra "Hi I'm ____. I come from ____. I live in ____ dorm." It was so superficial. Even to choruses of "Hi Julie!" I felt like no one knew me for the person that I was. For a long time I felt like I didn't have a place.
A place for Julie at Dartmouth. A niche. It seemed as if there were two categories of Dartmouth students, me and everyone else. The first few months here were extremely trying and I have the phone bills to prove it.
Two years later, I can say with complete honesty that I not only have a place at Dartmouth, but I am incredibly happy here. I owe it all to one big revelation-- Dartmouth brings together people who are literally and figuratively time zones apart. A "Dartmouth Experience" for one person is vastly different than for another. I couldn't be happy until I sought out the combination of classes, friends, and activities that suited my uniqueness. That was not an instantaneous process. I don't love every single thing about Dartmouth, but I love MY Dartmouth.
Certainly my Dartmouth will be different from yours. I'm a newspaper columnist, a DJ, a tap dancer, a tour guide, and a Presidential Scholar. I arrived at that mix by trying something new every term and dropping the activities that didn't feel right. I made my world here what I wanted it to be, and yet every week and every term that goes by brings new twists. I began as a premed majoring in English or Biology and two years later I'm a History major and future journalist. The next six months will take me to London -- a very different sort of classroom. In my wildest dreams I wouldn't have pictured myself here, nor am I the same person I was two years ago.
You can never see the road ahead. Somewhere at Dartmouth is a professor who will greatly impact the way you think, an organization that you've never heard of which you will lead. There are Dartmouth students out there right now who will be your friends for life. You and I might even be future friends. Everything is wide open. It's as exciting as it is overwhelming.
But if I could underscore one point to you it is this: adjustment takes time. Not every moment of college is happy, but Your Dartmouth is likely to be an ideal place for you and it will be yours uniquely.
My Dartmouth has been wonderful beyond description. I wouldn't trade it for anything. Not even for chocolate cupcakes and Hi-C fruit punch.
