I've heard rumors that the intensity with which students celebrate the Winter Carnival holiday is in decline -- that it might soon dip dangerously low, like the skin temperature of a Polar Bear swimmer. But I'm not ready to believe the rumors.
Yes, I remember that, on the Thursday evening beginning Winter Carnival '99, President Wright announced the imminent end of Greek life at Dartmouth as we know it, and, for many, that weekend was a melancholy time. But Winter Carnival doesn't depend upon any specific kind of social structure; it doesn't depend on "Greek life as we know it." All that Winter Carnival needs to thrive is our desire to enjoy our own holiday weekend and our desire to celebrate winter.
As I see it, Winter Carnival has carved out its prominent niche in Dartmouth culture in the following two ways: first, this weekend is Dartmouth's necessary and welcome holiday-of-the-term. Dartmouth students, and perhaps faculty, demand for ourselves one primarily social and celebratory weekend each term, and each holiday requires a theme: so over Homecoming weekend we watch a bonfire burn, welcome alums for a brief visit, and will our football team to victory; over Green Key weekend we thank our Green Key members for their volunteerism (a joke, for lack of an explanation). And over Winter Carnival weekend we celebrate winter and our comfort despite it.
Second, aside from its status as one term's glorified weekend, Winter Carnival weekend, in the specificity and timeliness of its theme, makes especial sense. Like northern Europe's festivals of light that predated the spread of Chanukah, Christmas, and Kwanzaa, the celebration of Winter Carnival can lift the spirits of winter's inhabitants. During Hanover's coldest and darkest season, Winter Carnival offers all of Dartmouth's community -- from ski team members to those who'd like to build underground tunnels to avoid winter's effects altogether -- a chance to compete, dance, play outdoors, stay indoors, find time to be with our friends.
We've come to Dartmouth with varying attitudes toward winter. Many of us remember tasting snow, making snow angels, and throwing snowballs since we were young; a few of us (myself included) knew we would never go to college below the snow-line. Others of us have moved from warmer climates but have gladly welcomed fluffy white precipitation into our lives and have taken up skiing, snowshoeing, skating outdoors, or at least sledding and snowball fights. Some of us love snow and wish it would last longer. A few of us, though, dread the cold and wish it would end soon.
Winter Carnival belongs to and benefits all of us, despite our opinions on winter. Our alpine and nordic ski teams compete at home; others of us compete in human dog-sled races, brave Occum for the Polar Bear Swim, or take our own outings in snow. And everyone, even the cold-averse, can attend dances, parties, or otherwise use the long weekend to meet with friends indoors.
I love that over Winter Carnival weekend we use snow, ice, the cold --potentially overwhelming, but also alluring, aspects of the Dartmouth experience -- as what is usually one of the year's more inspired themes for dances, parties, and other events. I love that, despite the cold, students and community members play outside long enough to build ice and snow sculptures on the Green, at Occum, and outside frats and sororities. I love that, instead of sulking about winter, we make use of winter -- we ski, snowshoe, skate, sled, enjoy the snow; or, at least, we laugh at the cold and celebrate indoors.
If I understand correctly, as the tradition of Homecoming Weekend grew out of the yearly ritual of an important home football game, our Winter Carnival weekend originated in the alpine and nordic ski teams' large home-meet. The holiday and its traditions have expanded spectacularly; now the weekend offers something for everyone.
Change in social life at Dartmouth will not kill Winter Carnival. More dangerous saboteurs, at least of the outdoor parts of the holiday, are the occasional gate-crashing warmth, drought, or ferocious wind or cold.
So that we can best celebrate winter's beauty, snow-country outdoor sports, and our comfort in the midst of it, I always hope for lots of the white stuff. This year, my wish has been granted.
I'll enjoy experiencing this resilient, appropriate, and, most of all, fun weekend for my fourth time.I wish our alpine and nordic ski teams the best of luck. Let the carnival begin!
