I cried into my soup yesterday as I sat in Collis reading The Dartmouth. The story was easily overlooked, hidden on the third page, in the National Briefs section. It was just a short clip from the Associated Press about a student named Jason Greco from Rutgers University who died early on Monday morning. Jason was 20 years old, my age, a third-year engineering student, and a member of a fraternity. He fell down a flight of stairs after a night of drinking last Thursday, and was declared clinically dead on Sunday. The decision to take him off life support was made soon thereafter.
Just as I've done time and time again in my three years here, Jason Greco drank just a little too much. What he did is no different from what we all do every weekend of every term. What scared me most about this story is the fact he didn't pass out somewhere, ignored by all those around him. He wasn't rushed to the hospital to have the alcohol pumped out of his body. Jason Greco probably just got up to walk down the stairs. Maybe to go to the bathroom, maybe to leave the house, perhaps simply to say "hi" to some friends. He was just a little clumsy. But that one small slip on the stairs ended his life prematurely. I ask you now to try and count the number of times that you've seen drunk people fall down stairs, whether in a fraternity, or in a dormitory, or wherever. I ask you to count how many times you yourself have slipped and landed on your butt, or your back. I think about how many times I have fallen, gotten up, only to laugh off the embarassment, vainly brush the muck off my pants, and continue on. I've had friends sent to Dick's House for falling and breaking bones. I've had a friend call me late at night asking me for the name of a local dentist. Why, I asked? Well, he replied quite matter-of-factly, someone had fallen in his fraternity, and broken some teeth. We've all had those nights curled up next to the toilet, where we wondered if we would ever again see the outside of the bathroom. What is the difference between all of our experiences, and what happened to Jason Greco? Why did his parents have to watch him die? Why are we any less vulnerable? The answer is, we're not. We only think we are.
The bottom line is we have been very, very lucky. Unbelivably lucky. While students across the country, including nearby MIT, and most recently, Rutgers, find themselves face to face with the terrible consequences of their behavior, Dartmouth students continue to walk around in this haze of invincibility. I'm knocking on wood as I type this, but we cannot possibly continue as we have without coming to terms with reality: that our behavior has real consequences, and people have died doing exactly what many of us think is perfectly acceptable for college students.
I am torn. Not only am I a member of a Greek house on campus, I am also an executive on the Coed Fraternity Sorority Council, making me, I guess, a leader, a representative of the entire Greek System. I am proud of my house, and I am proud to be a part of this system. I do not turn a blind eye to our faults, but I am quick to point out what the many things we do right. It is far too easy to condemn fraternities and sororities as the antagonist in these scenarios. Scott Krueger's house at MIT has been put on probation. It is thought that if you ban the house from having alcohol, or having parties, or even eliminate the house altogether, then future such incidents can be avoided. This is not the solution. These accidents could happen just as easily in the dorms as they do in Greek houses. In my tenure, we have tried hard to implement reforms in the system, seeking legitimacy in the eyes of the administration. However, now I see that it is not just about raising the programming standard, or enforcing mandatory community service. It's not about new alcohol policies and strict door monitors. We can spend months, years, reforming these things, in the hopes that the Greek System is seen as a positive influence on campus, but the real issue should be focused on the choices we each make as individuals.
I write this on the eve of Homecoming Weekend 1998. This will be my last Homecoming at Dartmouth. I am excited, sad and nervous. Let's not kid ourselves -- we all know what goes on during these weekends. I'm certainly not telling you not to have a good time, and it would be grossly hypocritical of me to sit here and preach at you about the evils of drinking. I am begging you to be responsible, to be aware. Cherish every minute you spend here. Enjoy every laugh you share with your friends. Please don't stumble around campus thinking that it could never happen to you or your best friend. Let me remember my last year at Dartmouth as a joyous one and once I leave here, please let me never open a newspaper and see Dartmouth College in the headline of a tragic story like Jason Greco or Scott Krueger. I remind you that these students were real. What happened to them can happen anywhere. It can happen here. Please don't let it.
