When I picked up the latest issue of the "Dartmouth Free Press," I was intrigued by the cover, stating that this was the DFP's "multi-faith" issue. In truth, there were really only three articles on religion in the issue, out of a total of about nineteen pieces. The issue, nonetheless, did something to alert me to the impoverishment of religious expression at Dartmouth. No one who actually has any religious beliefs wrote anything about multi-faith dialogue for this purportedly "multi-faith" issue.
But I'm not writing this column to blast the DFP's reporting. Instead, I am irritated by the white noise that persistently fills our ears when we listen to campus discourse (which always manages to address many points without really saying anything at all). Why doesn't anyone with opinions that lie beyond the mainstream ever contribute to the dialogue? The recent series of op-eds on the nature of love by Emily Johnson '12 ("The Love Doctor," Jan. 27), Chris Talamo '11 ("In Defense of Science," Jan. 29) and Brian May '10 ("No Love Lost," Jan. 30) also illustrate this problem.
These columns generally argued for a scientific and materialistic understanding of love, while arguing that love could still be considered meaningful in light of such an understanding. Only Peter Blair '11 ("Love Beyond the Brain," Jan. 28) argued from a Christian background and a Cartesian Dualist's perspective, and for this reason his op-ed did more to catch my attention. But what if one of the columnists in question had spoken of love and neurochemistry from an Islamic or Buddhist background? That definitely would have caught my eye. Venturing an atypical view always sparks more attention, and does more to activate the forum of opinion, than does the venturing of conventional views.
One obvious response to this contention is that the number of Buddhists and Muslims on campus pales in comparison to the number of secularists and Christians. Yet I can't help but feel that these minority voices are less readily expressed because they go against the prevailing orthodoxy, or because those who possess them will not willingly hazard to bear their souls to the campus community for fear of criticism. We speak of race and gender often enough, but our human integrity -- our deepest hopes, aspirations and beliefs -- provides more fertile ground for discussion than those rather superficial areas.
Given the escalating global crises related to over-consumption, climate change, AIDS, poverty and international terrorism, it seems that hearing from a multiplicity of viewpoints, both religious and philosophical, is necessary. Genial agnosticism and Judeo-Christianity are not enough. These perspectives become repetitive, and, with each representation of their views, they blur into a fuzzy static. Eventually, one wants to tune out.
For students like myself who are not satisfied with of the ideologies presented in the recent columns, it is difficult to find one's allies. I believe that the College has done a great deal to help facilitate inter-faith discussions, but the reality is that we live in a homogenous environment where many people pick hors d'oeuvres from the same materialistic, postmodern boilerplate. The current social system crams us into a dense atmosphere that makes real conversation next to impossible.
I am not interested in what you wear. I am not interested in how much you drink or what brand of liquor you prefer. I am not interested in where you come down on College politics -- I just want to know who you are. I am interested in who you really are, in who is under the thousand different cloaks that our society and our biology throw over us to hide us from ourselves. We are all overly concerned with analyzing these cloaks. Our attention is focused too much on surfaces but not on the human beings shrouded within them, and we define ourselves based more on our gender and race than the beliefs and ideals that make us unique. It is past time for a fuller flowering of that diversity -- greater individual expression of unorthodox opinion, in all its manifold forms. To quote the Gospel of Luke, "This night, thy soul shall be required of thee."
But when and where at Dartmouth College is one's soul required? It is easy enough to keep one's views private -- and that is our right. The marine biologist Jacques Cousteau, however, wrote, "When one man, for whatever reason, has an opportunity to lead an extraordinary life, he has no right to keep it to himself." A voice may cry out in the wilderness -- but if it is only in the wilderness, who will hear it?
