To the Editor:
I've been blissfully ignorant of Dartmouth's myriad controversies this summer, choosing instead to travel across the country for 7 weeks. So it was with a great deal of surprise and amusement that I first heard of Alpha Chi's "RACIST" tropical luau party. Frankly, I laughed at the absurdity of such a claim, and would have disregarded the bombastic e-mail if it were not for the surprisingly serious student reactions I saw documented in The D's editorial column.
In his editorial, Aaron Akamu wonders why Alpha Chi needed to have a Luau party -- why not just have a "regular" party instead? Indeed, what good are theme parties anyway? The answer, so obvious to everyone I know at Dartmouth, is that theme parties are FUN. People have always enjoyed assuming exotic roles for themselves that allow for an imaginary escape to someplace warmer, more relaxed, or perhaps just a little different than their customary lives. Whether that means throwing on a Hawaiian shirt for a Luau, a pair of Cowboy boots for a line dance, or some beads and a mask for Mardi Gras, the result is the same.
There are times, of course, when such escapist activity has the unfortunate effect of suspending the common civil responsibilities necessary for a sensitive community. The often-cited ghetto party comes to mind. However, to compare last fall's ghetto party to the recent luau entirely misses the point. Chi Gam's rap/urban theme party unintentionally championed poverty and a legacy of racial oppression; it was truly insensitive, even if conceived with good intentions. Alpha Chi's luau, from what I understand, had no such unintended consequences. It encouraged students to imagine themselves somewhere warmer, perhaps a little more carefree. Jimmy Buffet makes millions of dollars every summer encouraging people to do the same. He calls that place Margaritaville.
Mr. Akamu expresses concern that such tropical parties oversimplify important aspects of Hawaiian culture and serve to gloss over problems of poverty and injustice on his home island. I wonder if I'm the only one who finds such bitter condemnation of the trivial so amusing. Like most Dartmouth students, I know there's more to Hawaii than beaches and grass skirts, just as I know there's more to Mexico than Corona and Cancun. But if drinking a daiquiri in a flower-print shirt helps me forget about poverty, injustice, and the insanity that often drives the political discourse at our school, then pass me another one.
