In a nation already obsessed with convenience, Dartmouth is ahead of the curve. Amid all the complaining, many of us forget just how absurdly convenient our lives here are. Our negligence in dealing with minor issues contrasts with the typically dynamic, energetic and athletic Dartmouth student.
Much of this indolence has to do with mobility, particularly with having to leave one's room. My roommate and I sometimes complain that Food Court is so far -- we live on Mass Row. We aren't the only ones who occasionally find it difficult to make this 30-second trip, resorting instead to in-room meals of Wheat Thins and stale orange juice.
Despite the New Hampshire weather, it is puzzling that some of us drive the 0.4 miles to the gym only to run six once there. Or that around dinnertime, the parking lot behind Mid-Mass fills up with cars, some from as far as Webster Avenue! We whine about parking at A-Lot (huge pain, especially in the snow), though it costs only $25 per term. At night, Safety and Security will even spare us the walk back to campus. Still, some of us find this too annoying and instead opt to pay a few hundred dollars to park at a Greek house.
Now, routine tasks that we didn't mind before Dartmouth seem like major efforts. Some of my friends -- by no means exceptions -- have managed to make it this far into the term having done only one load of laundry. But, if that once-a-term undertaking becomes too much, E & R Cleaners will be happy to do all your washing, drying and folding for a few hundred dollars.
Our obsession with convenience is also reflected in what The Dartmouth considers significant. A recent story reported that "broken GreenPrint stations forced students to travel across campus to print documents last week, leaving users inconvenienced and frustrated" ("GreenPrint Malfunctions On Campus," Feb. 8).
It is indeed highly inconvenient if the printer in the basement of Mid-Fayerweather is out of order -- you might have to head to Kresge Library or the Hop instead. It gets even worse if you want to print at 3:45 a.m., when the Hop is closed. (I'm not sure if the Hop actually closes at night, but since I'm writing this in Baker, checking it out would be just too much effort.) You may have to trek all the way to Berry Lower Level. Take the elevator to get down there from Novack, though -- stairs are pretty tiresome.
Also ridiculous is the student who filed a police report for a missing "pair of jeans, sweaters, T-shirts, underwear, socks and one bed sheet" that he left in the laundry room for a day ("Police Blotter," Jan. 31). I don't condone theft, but I do wonder whether taking three minutes out of one's day to move one's laundry is really all that difficult.
Why are we so diligent in some aspects of our lives, yet so useless in others? Perhaps it is because our hectic schedules and lofty aspirations demand that we are maximally efficient with our time -- the one commodity that all Dartmouth students seem to be lacking. But is our love of convenience a matter of efficiency, or is it just sloth?
I support pushing the College to make our lives even more comfortable and efficient (I eagerly await those eight new printers Computing Services promised in July). When such policies fail, though, we feel stranded. The '09s experienced this when the Office of Residential Life announced that on-campus housing will be available to 100 fewer seniors. In a letter to the students, ORL defended its decision, claiming seniors "are best equipped to find appropriate housing in the community and transition to living off-campus" ("College To House 100 Fewer Seniors Next Year," Feb. 26).
This is certainly a more serious issue than any of the little inconveniences I have mentioned above. But as uncomfortable as the housing issue may be for us '09s, ORL's statement makes sense if we consider our time Dartmouth as an opportunity to mature.
The recent housing incident should remind us that our circumstances here are atypical -- let's not become overly dependent on them. Otherwise, we might be in for an additional post-Dartmouth shock. God forbid, we might even have to clean our own bathrooms.
