If you asked me how many times per week I visit Food Court specifically to scope out the frozen yogurt sundae bar, I would probably lie rather than admit how often I tell the FoCo cashier, "Just toppings!" But seriously, there was no better place than FoCo to satisfy a candy craving -- until this fall. Many students are overcome by frustration and anger at the replacement of the open plastic containers with those closed, gumball machine-esque plastic monstrosities.
You may think that FoCo's candy corner doesn't deserve its own column, but it is important that the voices of students are heard. Students have a practical understanding of how College policies affect daily life that is too valuable to be simply glossed over.
I'd like to take the opportunity to give students their voices on a borderline absurd topic in order to challenge a recent op-ed in which Chris Talamo '11 suggests that a government's constituents are, for the most part, under-qualified to weigh in on issues of importance ("Vote or Die?" Nov. 13). To be fair, Talamo has a point that simply having opinions does not entitle us to make every important decision, but I take issue with the fact that he comes dangerously close to justifying the silencing of involved people's voices.
I admit that I am no expert on this topic; I did not conduct a formal interview with a Food Court employee. Furthermore, most Dartmouth students do not pause to consider any of the complex logistics behind providing diverse and affordable dining options to a few thousand students.
But have the administrators who control the candy corner had the same love affair with fro-yo at FoCo as we have? Do they know the agonizing moments of wondering how many M&M's -- a trickle or an ocean -- are going to land in your life when you turn the dial?
In the days of old, using a spoon to scoop up candy allowed us to live free from dependence on a machine and to satisfy our environmentally friendly consciences. Several students spoke of the wasteful nature of the new machines: We really can't eat 30 chocolate chips when we only want 20, but pouring the extras onto the sundae bar table just doesn't seem sustainable.
And have the Dartmouth Dining Services higher-ups ever tried to get marshmallows out of these machines? (Nearly impossible.) Students have the battle scars that tell these stories. An anonymous friend regrets the dilemma the new dispensers have created for kleptomaniacs all over campus -- it has become nearly impossible to taste-test only five Reese's pieces (their collective weight costs approximately 0.2 cents so it's totally not stealing). The new setup has brutally forced these students to quit their habits or make the leap into petty thievery (70 Reese's pieces cost nearly $2!).
Even if you believe that students who sneak Gummi Bears while no one is looking do not deserve a right to voice their opinions on this issue, you will certainly be moved by one student's devastating conclusion: "This is clearly undemocratic and un-American."
To reiterate, I don't disagree with Talamo that politicians with advanced degrees in economics should be voting on proposals to ease the economic recession rather than voters. In the same vein, it is obvious that President Wright, Provost Scherr, the Board of Trustees and other College leaders such as the dessert department of DDS have the power to make big decisions since they have more experience in College governance than students do.
It is certainly true that students in the Dartmouth bubble can fall victim to having "an alarming sense of self-importance," as Talamo suggests. I am obviously guilty of occasionally believing that I am righteous in my anger over the fact that it takes me an extra minute to buy a handful of gummy bears. I wonder how we would all feel, however, if College leaders refused to poll student opinion about the most effective and least damaging ways to cut Dartmouth's budget.
We are all going to have to live with some uncomfortable changes this year (even worse than ice cream sundae bar fiascos), and students will not even feel the heaviest losses. The world is poking a little hole in our Dartmouth bubble, and it is important that our leadership takes time out of the work they are highly qualified to perform to listen to our thoughtful voices as well as those of the College staff. And if we can make light of it all by screaming about ice cream, then I'm confident we will prevail.
