Welcome back alums! In this turbulent period of Dartmouth's history, it is certain that you will want to get all you can of this Dartmouth before the change is made to the new Dartmouth. Every year I write a column for this issue, and every year the theme is essentially the same: set a watch, lest the old traditions fail. But because I refuse to be typecast and because I've harped on the Greek subject for far too long, I would like to talk this year about what I want my Homecoming to be like.
Homecoming is such an odd time. Alums come pouring back onto campus to relive the glory days, and of course to harass freshmen. Greek houses turn into stop and shops with people flowing in and out like mad just to get a beer then to run along to the next place, and meanwhile, the freshmen are bolting around the bonfire trying not to get trampled or singed. All work is forgotten about, everyone is focused on pure enjoyment and celebration, even if the football game doesn't come up roses. When I think about the '00s' first homecoming, it's more of a blur than anything else. I remember running, falling, laughing, wandering around, sneaking into a couple frats and basically having the time of my life. That Friday was the first day I ever skipped class at Dartmouth, so that I could paint my name on the bonfire. The amount of classes skipped since then is truly staggering, yet the really remarkable thing is how little I regret skipping any of those classes for the time spent elsewhere, even if it was just to sleep in.
I've managed to survive this school's rigorous academic regimen without ever getting below a B-, yet I've never been outstanding because I skipped class so much. But I rarely skipped to do nothing. There was always a fairly tangible reason not to go to class, even if it was simply to sit on the Collis front porch and talk with friends. That's always been a good enough reason to skip, and now I can honestly say that I would 100 percent regret not having skipped class if I had the chance to do it again.
The countdown is now at eight months before we 2000s shuffle off this collegial coil into the real world of jobs, grad school, or unemployment. I actually have a mental list of things that I absolutely must do before I graduate, and I'm wondering if I'll have enough time to fit them all in. Highest on that list is not studying. No sir, what I value most right now is my free time, so much so that I just got called in to meet with a prof because of my academic iniquity. I'm not stupid, mind you. I'm just not intellectual in the intellectual sense of the word. Is the reasoned decision in a situation like mine, as a 21-year-old college senior, to take advantage of all the academic resources I have available to me in my last eight months of college? Or is it to take advantage of Killington and the rugby field and The D and and the basement while I still have those available to me? Tough decision, but I think I'm making the right one.
When I get back to Dartmouth, be it 1, 5, or 10 years from now, I don't want to remember the all-nighters and the classes and the midterms and the finals and the hours spent locked away reading Spanish. I want to remember the hours spent on the slopes, wandering the campus, hanging out with friends, doing really idiotic things. I want to go see where I left my name in Sanborn. I want to take the path to foodstop from Webster Ave. at 3 a.m., to walk across the green while the fog rolls across it late at night, to remember where I was when I saw the Hale-Bopp comet streaking across the sky two years ago. And I want to remember that one time at Sachem field where I knocked some schmuck ten meters back when he tried to run over me.That's what my Homecoming will be about.
But, alas, first I have to graduate. I'm still stuck doing all the work that I have not done over the first five weeks of this term. The question now is do I bust my ass this weekend so that I can graduate? Or do I have fun this weekend so I have memories to come home to should I eventually graduate? Well, this weekend is going to suck for little old me, but hopefully everyone else will enjoy it for me. And look for me Saturday night, I'll be celebrating knocking some schmuck ten meters backwards on his ass on Sachem field.
