Nearing the end of my career as a Dartmouth student with the weight of the real world looming ever closer, I decided it was time to phase in some impending responsibilities. I chose to live off campus for the liberty of personal space and, in part, to take up some of the burdens of supporting myself after graduation. I soon found out that my parents actually do have to pay the electric bill, and money does not grow on trees. Dartmouth Dining Services has packed my lunch for three years, so now I would like to thank them for their kind service and take some of the responsibility myself.
I chose the off-campus dining plan, only to learn that it came with a $100 "service fee" -- one-fourth of the actual food you can buy -- and my ever-growing dissonance with the administration snapped. Why am I being charged a "service fee" when I will now need less service by the kind workers of DDS?
I asked this question to a man high up in the financial structure of Food Court. He gave me a prompt, extended response to my simple query that utterly confused and further agitated me. The service fee is described as the "buying out" of the standard meal plan so that the students who do stick with the higher plans are not forced to pay extra for overhead costs, offsetting the lack of income from those who take the lower plan. But I know many people who choose the meal plans above the standard package which offer a significant monetary bonus for your investment. For the "Big Green" meal plan, a student pays $1,059 and gets $1,300 worth of food. Now, I am no financial whiz and barely passed Econ 1 on the second try, but could some sort of balance be struck here? That person's bonus is my service fee. I want my money back. Those of us who choose the lower plans are only being forced the "service" of fattening DDS' wallet or other students' waistline.
I do not mean to ridicule any other aspect of DDS. All of the workers are cordial and skilled at their jobs. In general, the food is delicious and it provides some of my most anticipated meals of the week (i.e. chicken day, cordon bleu at the Hopkins Center). Dartmouth was even ranked in the Princeton Review's Top 10 college food service programs. I almost feel guilty complaining about such a renowned organization, but if slipping back into the Top 50 means I get my service fee back, I am behind it all the way. Maybe DDS is just trying to boost its national image. How much sense does the kosher/halal/sakahara Pavilion ghost town make when the line for the Food Court grill reaches the edge of the Green? I agree that these students deserve to have their dining needs met by the College in some capacity, but it should be proportional to the number of people serviced. Is my service fee going down The Pavilion trash compactor? The formerly fruitful cafeteria cathedral that was once Westside should be utilized to accommodate the chaotic mobs at Food Court. For those of you who never experienced the glorious gorging attraction of Westside, I apologize. The popular buffet-style venue was closed two years ago because of financial troubles, and in that time DDS brainstormed The Pavilion cash cow. Maybe once The Pavilion goes public I will get my service fee investment back.
The bonus meal plans are obviously more ideal for students who live on campus, and Dartmouth does encourage students to live in dorms despite the well-publicized lack of housing. The principle of community urges us all to join together in appreciating our diversity. I do not feel overly diverse or privileged for the opportunity to pay an extra chunk of money to be one of 500 kids -- many of whom will be paying off loans to Dartmouth for years -- jammed into the Food Court service area. The spatial logistics and backward economics of DDS need to be reformed. And for us thrifty off-campus eaters, DDS needs to stop the hate and rebate.
