With two Dartmouth Mirror articles already dedicated to sex in the snow sculpture, I was stumped by the Herculean task of producing 500 words about the illustrious Winter Carnival. If I couldn't write about insider Dartmouth culture with the feigned ennui of a seasoned and self-aware campus celebrity/Rembert Brown '09, what could I write about?
The uninviting weather has, per usual, driven many of us juniors to warmer climates, or -- for so many econ majors -- to seek harbor in the steamy bowels of whatever analyst is hiring.
And in realizing how much of campus is not on campus (only about 300 '10s are at Dartmouth this winter), Carnival seems comparatively unimportant; it, perhaps, exists in the minds of many Dartmouth students as a designated time of revelry without iconic events like the Homecoming Bonfire. Can we cherish anything about Carnival beyond the hilarious anatomical effects of the Polar Bear Swim?
If we compare this weekend to Carnival's first appearance in 1911, we notice that its original intent -- to promote winter sports -- remains its focus today. And, in these hard times, the schedule offers some refreshing frugality, creativity and spirit-based entertainment. Even the Mr. and Ms. Big Green contest is a philanthropic example of students taking advantage of free entertainment: watching our male peers take off their shirts and having girls cheer. It's like an Ivory Tower Menudo concert.
In fact, the $12,000 spent on Winter Carnival -- which is still clearly much more than necessary for our entertainment -- is relatively insignificant when compared to the cost of student group and visiting artist expenditures. Did somebody order a lot of Panera Bread? How about some humble pie, Dartmouth Mathematics Society?
Frankly, students don't need money to have fun. Carnival represents the spirit of inexpensive festivity, especially if you consider athletic funding a sunk cost -- and a wise one, given its role in garnering alumni donations. In that case, watching sporting events, going to fraternities and relishing snowy weather are all cost-free (although not for our generous Greek hosts).
Since we're looking to trim fat from our budget, why not learn from Carnival? The total cost is minimal -- beer, hot cocoa, and ski rental expenses pale in comparison to the riches spent each year on things many students don't immediately perceive as beneficial (see FoCo flatscreen scandal). Things that add up -- like the cost of paying bumbling upperclassman UGA's, spending thousands on poorly attended events -- could use some thoughtful excising.
When it comes to student life, we must acknowledge the essential: academics, admissions, ORL, financial aid, athletics, and maybe an occasional bone to throw to PB and SA to give them a sense of worth. With some creativity and fundraising, music groups, community service, students clubs and parties can all exist outside the realm of significant expense.
Of course, certain programs are deemed essential by some student populations, and their importance should not be ignored. However, the potential for those free things that we can improve upon -- sports attendance, frat culture, club loyalty, and low-key events -- is unappreciated.
Let's consider a laissez-faire approach to student life. We can consider that -- unlike our banks -- student life is better left unadministrated and unadulterated.
