When I try to distill the spirit of this place for those without the honor of attending College here, I often try to recreate the vivid images that mark this school's traditions. There's the Homecoming bonfire: hundreds of running, yelling, painted freshmen circling a burning pyre as upperclassmen cheer from the sidelines. There's the first snowfall: the blitz war that heralds an epic midnight battle. There's Winter Carnival: the bustling frat-house parties, the polar bear swim, the skating on Occom Pond. These images compose the memories we will take with us when we leave this place, and they are what I tell others about as they stare in slackjawed amazement. We are a College made most alive by our connection to our past, and the traditions that we continue year after year mark that vivification. Some of our traditions are regal: building a grandiose snow sculpture on the Green in the dead of winter. Some of our traditions are ridiculous: throwing tennis balls at halftime of the Princeton hockey game. All of them are vital, and must be fought for and protected with all we have, because they represent the wild and indomitable spirit of Dartmouth College.
I received an email recently letting me know that Dartmouth students were not to throw tennis balls at the Princeton hockey game this year. I was told the ECAC had grown tired of this tradition, because it was dangerous and it took them extra time to clear the ice. I was told they would be penalizing our hockey team, that Safety and Security officers would be present at the game to search and seize those objects not to their liking. Those students who refused to be searched would be denied access to the game. The letter concluded by urging fans to show for the game, and cheer extra hard in place of old and forgotten rituals. It was signed by the hockey captains and head coach, but it was not their idea -- they merely claim to "support the College's efforts to end the tennis ball tradition." The responsibility for this decision, it seems, rests with the administration.
Which brings me to the central point of my piece, and it is really a simple question. Why isn't the College administration standing up with us, the lovers of this College, against the ECAC and in defense of our beloved traditions? Why didn't our administration say to the Conference that, "while we appreciated their concerns, the situation was under control and we will continue to support our athletic teams in the manner we see fit?" Why didn't they say: "Tennis balls dangerous? Don't be ridiculous!" and "It takes but a few short minutes to clean up and it means more than that to us" and even "Dartmouth College will never compromise on traditions."
They didn't say that, though, and with no other clarification they appear to be co-conspirators in the elimination of our traditions and the sanitizing of our rugged mountain school. Year after year, we watch as our traditions are scaled back because of safety and litigation concerns, and we observe the verdant green of this College as it fades quickly into a grey haze. The Psi U keg jump was too dangerous. Rushing the field was a safety hazard. Kegs in frats were a threat to public health. Now, tennis balls are a danger to the bodies and egos of our Princeton friends, and we cower and concede.
I wonder sometimes if this is what remains of this place now, what will remain in twenty years? I marvel not that we aren't more earthy and more wild and more like those Dartmouth heroes of old we still sometimes hear in the passing wolf-winds, but that we still have a Homecoming bonfire and a polar bear swim and a snow sculpture after all these years. Let us enjoy them while they last. Let us urge our administration to stand with us and not against us in defense of the essence of this beloved institution. Let us set the watch now, firmer and farther, and dig in more deeply for the battles to come. And let us battle to regain that ground we have lost, because this is who we are and what we love and this is worth fighting for against the sanitizing influences of a lifeless litigation age. Then when our children and grandchildren grow and visit Dartmouth College, they can feel some of the same luster of identity that we never sense so vividly as when we revel in the old traditions.
