This weekend, as we make our last Dartmouth memories as undergraduates, I have been thinking back to one of my first. On Sept. 6, 2005, having spent three days in the woods as the only guy on my nature photography DOC trip, I arrived at the Moosilauke Ravine Lodge. After a dinner of alphabet soup and delicious vegetable lasagna, I settled down to listen to an energetic Dartmouth senior with curly pink and orange hair share some thoughts about himself and the College.
He started off talking about his off term, which he had spent kite surfing on an island or doing something equally awesome and exotic. But he quickly moved into a powerful discussion of how, for the past three years, he had struggled unsuccessfully to find direction and passion in his life.
His words, however, belied his actions in that very moment. To dedicate three weeks to Lodj Croo and give an intimate talk to more than 100 total strangers all for the purpose of making freshman trips as incredible as they are took a deep passion for the College and for its students.
Exactly 50 years ago, President John Sloan Dickey '29 addressed Dartmouth's graduating Class of 1959 with the following message: "As you and life teach each other and it will be both ways you will find yourself increasingly disenthralled with that spoken and unspoken adolescent rejection of all things difficult I couldn't care less.' Your acquired distaste for such self-deception will mark you as a man when being a man matters. It is because she cares that what you are and what you do will always matter greatly to Dartmouth."
Thankfully, Dickey's remarks now apply to Dartmouth women as well as men, but the essence of his message remains the same. As Dartmouth students we learned to care.
Over the course of my four years at Dartmouth, I have developed a number of passions: for my friends, for the study of history and for this newspaper. As I reflect on my time here, I realize that my most formative experiences relate to the publication of The Dartmouth. In its offices on the second floor of Robinson Hall, I learned how to write, how to find answers to questions, how to work with my peers and how to run a business. I became excited and fascinated by The D's ability to provide Dartmouth news and opinions by students for students. Through The D, I studied Dartmouth; the more I came to know her, the more I cared about her.
My friends and classmates found their own passions, as captains of the Ultimate Frisbee team, as members of Greek organizations, as volunteers at the Tucker Foundation and as invigorated academics writing theses the list goes on and on. The dedication with which my peers approached their pursuits was beyond impressive. At Dartmouth inside, but especially outside the classroom we didn't just do things, we did them with passion. In my mind that's what sets us apart passion is what makes Dartmouth, Dartmouth.
As we leave her, Dartmouth is coming under new leadership. President-elect Jim Yong Kim has evoked Dickey's fondness for telling Dartmouth students "the world's troubles are your troubles."
In his introductory remarks to the College, Kim said, "If we teach nothing else at Dartmouth, we must teach our students to find their passion, to aim high, work hard, and settle for nothing less than to transform the world. I know Dartmouth students can achieve anything to which they commit themselves."
Our charge as Dartmouth alumni is to fulfill that potential.
Like many of my fellow members of the Class of 2009, I am not sure what I will be doing after leaving the College. I sometimes find myself falling into the same mindset as that passionate Lodj Croo speaker from three Septembers past, questioning my direction in life.
The prospect of facing life after Dartmouth without secure plans for the future is certainly a bit unnerving, but with uncertainty comes excitement. What I do know for sure is that, whatever I do, I will do it with a passion. That is perhaps the most important lesson I will take away from the College.
Thus Dickey's remarks from 50 years ago require a small addendum. He said, "It is because she cares that what you are and what you do will always matter to Dartmouth." As we set out into the world, I like to think it is because we have learned to care that what Dartmouth is and what Dartmouth does will always matter to us.
