Relax, this is not another article about Beta, though I am going to mention it in these first few lines. If you were upset about the news of Beta's return, it must have meant one of two things: either this was the first time Dartmouth might have let you down, or this is the hundredth time your expectations might have let you down. If you're in the latter category, what can I say? Most of us have been there before -- at least those of us who expect our little College to celebrate diversity of all kinds.
I'm sure everyone was told at least once before they first arrived in Hanover that college would be "the best four years of your life." Having played my fair share of pong games over the years, I can admit to having had some high times in Hanover. But, interspersed with my Homecomings, Winter Carnivals and Green Keys, certain moments have made me seriously question the validity of my fun -- incidents in which people on our campus have been marginalized.
These "incidents" have been the bane of my three years at Dartmouth and have left me wondering how anyone offended by such acts could recover and still enjoy these so-called best years. How do we all reconcile our expectations with the reality of our experience?
My way of coming to terms with these nagging questions has been to see Dartmouth less as an anomaly and more as a microcosm of society -- a tiny preview of what is to come once we leave this isolated place.
Whether we like it or not, we are a case study of what happens when you collect 4,000 students from all over the United States and other parts of the world on one small campus. There's an upside to this perspective and a downside: On the one hand, you can say that life here prepares you for life anywhere; on the other hand, I have chosen to ignore -- really, to forget -- that I'm among Ivy League students who should be held to a higher standard than "less-educated" Americans.
I heard someone talk about the "Dartmouth Myth" the other day, and I feel that the phrase casts some light on this problem with which we all should be continually struggling.
In our freshman fall, we believe, thanks to H-Croo's neon hair, that Dartmouth celebrates difference, and that while it is a college, Dartmouth is first and foremost a community. With DOC trips, the gospel of the Greeks and the speeches at convocation, a Dartmouth mythology is created, an idyllic story in which the Typical Dartmouth Student has The Best Four Years of His or Her Life, and yes! You could be a Typical Dartmouth Student, too.
But is the typical Dartmouth student ignorant? Unafraid of having fun at the expense of others? Exclusive? Shall we say it -- racist? Homophobic? Sexist?
According to most of my interactions with other students on campus, many Dartmouth students are anything but. And yet, I wonder if, with every homework assignment and Blitz that distracts us from our worries about these incidents, we are in fact fueling the existence of a myth.
Whether intentionally or not, our selective memory has allowed us to shove those troubling moments into the back corners of our mind in order to guiltlessly enjoy the next big weekend and strive for those best four years. And at the end of every term, during which some great scandal or other breaks loose, we bury ourselves in the libraries until we leave campus only to return a few weeks later without glancing back.
We are an Ivy League institution, which means we take our work seriously (don't try and be a hard guy, I know you do); so by all means, finish that paper, cram for that midterm, prepare for that final. And when you're done (or before you even start), find a fourth and grab a paddle, or go for a run at the gym. It's what we're here to do. But we're also here to stop and actually think once in a while -- isn't that what college is really for?
