We all know theyre coming. Their arrival is inevitable " those pesky little freshmen, who make us cringe at the sight of their lanyards and hold our ears as their shmobs scratch against campus like nails on a chalkboard. But while we are still free from the newbies for another two months, Dartmouth is being invaded every day by even younger potential students and their parents, who flock to the campus for summer tours.
I was curious to take a closer look at the tour groups that I pass by every day and to observe them from a more direct angle. And so " tape recorder hidden securely in my purse " I lined up in front of McNutt Hall, pretending to be a prospie.
The first thing I noticed was the wide range of kids. Some looked like they could be budding high school seniors, while others had the middle school aura about them. I pitied the younger kids who stared listlessly ahead, clearly having been forced by their parents to start the college process early.
With other kids, I could literally see the desire to be green oozing from their clogged pores. These were the ones that strained their necks forward to catch every detail off the lips of the tour guide, and nodded at every word in order to fake some understanding of the complex world of Dartmouth.
My favorite kid on the tour, however, was a kid who had no pretensions about him. He was no older than ten years old and spent most of his time turning the lens of a videocamera towards his face, so that he could record funny faces into the camera. While I watched him, he did five different faces, including a twist of his tongue that I had never seen anyone do before.
At one point his mom pulled his arm and said, You should be paying attention to this, to which he replied, Why? This is the most boring thing Ive ever seen.
In contrast to camera-boy, other prospies had clearly rehearsed what to say. They phrased their questions carefully and then smiled with smug satisfaction as if they had gained brownie points with Dartmouth for asking a question.
Coincidentally, the ten-year-olds parents had a lot of questions to ask while their son was occupied with his face. When we approached frat row, the mother ran her hand through her hair and asked with genuine concern, Do Dartmouth students have time to do anything else or do they just study all the time? I suppressed a laugh.
Were not studying all the time, but we are running around all the time, the tour guide said, on cue. Everyone is involved in a lot of extracurriculars. I waited for him to elaborate on Keystone Light as an extracurricular, but to my disappointment, he didnt.
When we reached the Rockefeller Center, we didnt venture onto frat row, but rather stood looking at these majestic beacons from afar. There is a very strong Greek community on campus, the tour guide said, All Greek fraternities have to submit action plans and these action plans detail what their goals are and how they plan to achieve these goals.
Action plans? Goals? Um, what? It looked like nothing was going to be said about the black-out-locked-lips-earlymorning-sweaty-sticky-pong scene that makes up the glorious Greek system. After all, the writer of Animal House did not go to Harvard. He went to Dartmouth.
Whats the nightlife like here? I said and raised my hand. I heard there is a really active party scene. The tour guide blushed as he thought of how to phrase it for the ears of parents. Um, he said, since we dont really have late night clubs, if you are interested in going out late at night, the sororities and fraternities are basically the only scene.
He then decided to blow my cover. Jilian already knows this because she is actually a Dartmouth student trying to write an article, he said, addressing the parents. You guys werent making it awkward enough, so she tried to make it awkward. Bastard.
Oh, so this a party school! one man shouted out, with a tone that wavered between amusement and disdain. Party School! Party School! he cackled to himself and rubbed his hand over his dark blue J-Crew polo shirt. At least his collar wasnt popped.
Once my cover was blown, two parents suddenly converged upon me like animals in heat. Oh so youre a Dartmouth student? How many hours a day do you do work? How many extracurricular activities do you participate in? Do you find it easy to manage your time?
I answered the questions as quickly as I could and then left the tour group in order to latch onto a different one, this time with a tour guide who did not know me. This is Parkhurst, this new tour guide said as we walked down Mass Row. If you get suspended or expelled people say you are parkhursted or hursted?
How frequently do people get hursted? I said, affecting a giggle. He looked surprised. You have to break the honor code, he said. Its basic. Dont cheat. Dont steal.
Oh haha, that might be hard, I said and then smiled in mock innocence at the parents around me. No one laughed, but instead looked away from me as if they were ashamed at my question. One woman whispered in her daughters ear and glared at me sharply like I was one of the troubled children she had warned her daughter against.
At the end of the tour, I was looking for something profound to be said by one of the kids about why they liked Dartmouth. What do you like about Dartmouth? I asked 17-year-old, Paul. Um, the town is cool. Long pause. Okay, well what dont you like about Dartmouth? I said.
I really dont like that hair, he said, referring to the infamous Wenda Gu exhibit. The colored pieces were okay because I didnt realize it was hair, but then when we walked into that front hallway, I could see the blondes and the brunettes. It was disgusting. Maybe these prospies have some sense after all.
In the end, as much as I find them amusing, I was once one of them. We all were. Perhaps that is what makes me feel so embarrassed for them. They are walking reflections of our former, pre-college naivete. By sophomore summer we have become so ingrained in Dartmouth that it is hard to remember a time of SAT scores, tours, and the epic college search process. And although I never made faces into a video-camera while on a college tour, I can relate to that boys restlessness. In fact, I commend him.
