As soon as my roommate and I get out of the car and walk towards McDonald's, she begins the inevitable debate about the virtues of Number 1 versus Number 3. As we wait on line and she weighs the options, another inevitable event occurs: she sighs, rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
The first time I witnessed her body language display, I didn't understand -- is choosing an extra value meal really that stressful? So I asked what was wrong, and she whispered: "You'd think these people had never seen a black person before."
That first time, I truly did not believe it -- the idea of staring at someone because she is black seemed so ludicrous to me -- but by now, I have seen it enough to know that it happens. Young people, old people, whoever; people stare at her. This happens a mere 15 minutes away from Dartmouth, a mere 15 minutes away from our "community."
I have been on campus since last fall, and I have heard all the talk about how we can improve Dartmouth for the members of its community. Since the "ghetto party," incident, there have been discussions about what we can do to make the Dartmouth Community more informed and thus more tolerant.
I support the idea of an increased understanding throughout campus. A wider base of knowledge will ideally lead to the elimination of actions that are insensitive to anyone. Yet, in attempting to make the students of Dartmouth more understanding, the college is guilty of isolating itself for the sake of education.
If we speak about "community" and use the term to include only the people of Dartmouth, then we are doing ourselves a disservice. We try so hard here to include everyone in the Dartmouth Community, but any progress we make will immediately be nullified once we step even a few miles out of our carefully constructed environment of understanding.
It seems idealistic to say that in addition to changing ourselves, which is no simple task, we should change a larger group of people. I am not suggesting that we attempt to change the world in one fell swoop; changes are a painstakingly slow process.
I am, however, saying that we must realize the debt we have to a larger community. From a simple geographical sense, the towns closest to Dartmouth should be considered a part of our community. If we are to continue interacting with the citizens of these towns, we should hold them up to the same standards of tolerance and understanding as we hold ourselves.
I also do not wish to make a sweeping generalization about the people in our neighboring towns. For as many people that I have seen stare at my roommate, I have seen people who treat her exactly the same way they treat everyone else. But since we, as a college, wish to prevent even the smallest bit of bias, we should seek the same elimination elsewhere.
The easier part of the problem is realizing its existence. I say easier because, in and of itself, recognizing prejudice is never easy. It is only easier than figuring out how to stop it.
What do we do now? Here is where I have encountered a wall. We have held discussion forums, and people have suggested forming new classes that place a greater emphasis on a more broad cultural understanding. But how do we know if any of this has worked or will work? And furthermore, how do we extend the effects of such things to others?
I truly do not know the answers to these questions, but I think they are important questions, and I think they are questions that must be kept in mind as we search for ways to increase awareness on campus. We must consider not only our own attitudes, but also the attitudes of others. It would seem a shame to make progress, only to have that progress negated once we leave the confines of Dartmouth.
What I do know, is that I am committed to making Dartmouth a place where everyone feels welcome. As I write that, I realize how sappy it sounds, but stripped of everything else, college should be a place where everyone has the chance to belong in some regard. And that feeling of belonging should not be restricted to college.
One of the benefits of going to a school that is not in the middle of a large city is that we have the ability to make changes on a small scale. The communities around us are tangible and within our reach. We can give to them as much as we take from them.
I'm not saying the entire Upper Valley should join hands and sing. Such an act is only a display that means very little, if going to get McDonald's with my roommate turns into a bitter experience.
See, that's the thing: I don't even have such a lofty goal. To some, it probably seems like such a simple request, such a mundane point, and maybe it is. But the fact that such a simple thing is not possible, makes the situation not only an urgent one, but a sad one, as well.
