I've heard it said many times that this has been a "quiet" summer. While I personally take exception to that, I think it is true in many ways. Quiet has a nebulous definition, so I'll leave it to you to define it as you wish ... for me, though, I use quiet to mean without big policy changes or protests or ruckuses. If that is what's meant by a quiet summer, then I say, yeah we had a quiet summer.
But don't forget about what we did when we weren't creating a public ruckus: we spent time with each other. We played Frisbee on the Green. We walked around Occum Pond. We stood on the golf course at 1:00am looking at the stars. We canoed on the Connecticut River. We had breakfast on the Collis porch. We made new friends. We traveled. We explored. We read books for pleasure. We built houses and played with kids. We interacted with each other. We even studied a little. We relaxed, and we had fun.
And we learned a tremendous amount. Dr. Manning Marable, this summer's Montgomery Fellow, talked with us about stereotypes and race relations in contemporary America. He challenged us to think about our own actions, and opened our eyes to much of what can, and hopefully will, happen in higher education. If you were fortunate enough to hear him, you know that his talks were characterized by his distinctive voice and seemingly bottomless knowledge and understanding. He was very inspirational to me, and my favorite story of his (slightly abridged) is as follows: A couple of months ago, Dr. Marable was in his NYC home when he began to feel ill. His wife took his temperature, and it was high enough to warrant an emergency trip to the hospital, so they went outside to hail a taxi, and, being just on the outskirts of Harlem, no driver would stop for them. As his temperature continued to climb, six cabs drove by. Finally, as he was approaching a near-death situation, the seventh cab stopped and they made it to the hospital just in time to save his life. In telling a group of students this story, Dr. Marable's moral was that even when it seems as all your efforts have gone for naught and no one is listening, eventually the seventh cab will stop. And it will do the right thing.
For me, another of the most memorable aspects of the summer by far was the conversation about sexual assault at Dartmouth that took place on AD's lawn. I know a fraternity isn't the normal spot for a dialogue like that, but the location produced an audience one doesn't normally find at such at event. The conversation was one of the most open, honest, genuine, and respectful I've heard on this campus. The seventy-plus people there were frank in their questions and answers, and they listened to each other. The discussion proved again to me how many quality individuals there are on this campus: we handled a conversation on a potentially inciting and explosive issue very maturely, and we were inclusive of the "administrators" who joined us. While we didn't necessarily come up with an action plan filled with tangible solutions, I think that we did realize our existence in a small community, and the responsibility and potential each of us as individuals have to affect positive change.
This summer has been one of overwhelming female student leadership. Women are heads of more organizations this summer than men are, by far. I can't help but wonder if there is a correlation between that and the "quiet" summer. Not much has been said about the women leaders around campus this summer, but to those of you who are reading this now, please know that you have done a tremendous job, and that you are opening up doors all over the place for future women leaders.
If I were to summarize this summer with one word, it would be community. I knew that when I decided to come to Dartmouth that I would become part of a community -- I guess our location dictates that to a large degree -- but it wasn't until this summer that I've actually felt it. I'm happy to be in a place where so much is happening and so many relationships are fostered -- and I'm proud to call this community my home.
