Human beings are rational creatures. Dartmouth students are no exception. Driven by logic and motivated by common sense, we seem to be equipped with an inherent cost-benefit analysis mechanism that enables our decision-making process. As such, if the rewards do not exceed the necessary effort, a cause is essentially dead in the water. In politics, such a phenomenon is known as rational abstention, by which voters who know that they will not make a difference in an election choose to remain rationally ignorant, for how could awareness of an unsolvable problem be conducive to anything productive? Ignorance is not only blissful, but sensible, for being the lone voice calling out in the wilderness can end in isolation.
Rather than distancing ourselves from the College, then, we seem to take every necessary step to be fully immersed in everything green. At a school where opportunities abound, saying "no" almost seems silly. This becomes most apparent in the way that we question our involvements: We ask "why not" far more often than we ask "why," especially in terms of action. Doing things is expected, and refraining tends to be surprising. We engage in activities that we expect to provide a net benefit, and consequently, at a school where so much is so available, it always seems to make more sense to do something than nothing.
While this mindset can be wonderfully proactive and productive, its vast application becomes dangerous, for not everything at Dartmouth is worth saying "yes" to. Perhaps a large part of the reason that we don't want to say no at Dartmouth is because of the sense of community that has always been such a source of pride. We love feeling included. Fostering an atmosphere of belonging is pretty high on the list of priorities at the College, and it stands to argue that we do a pretty decent job. But recognizing Dartmouth's faults does not undermine our devotion to the school. In fact, it reinforces it. Although no one seems to deny the existence of problem areas, there does seem to be a sense of helplessness that pervades the system. It almost seems that we say "no" to the existence of imperfections, trying to wish them away rather than looking for resolution. So the real question remains: Are we part of the problem if we are not part of the solution?
It should come as no major shock that Dartmouth students are not particularly keen on refusing most opportunities. We are surrounded by people whom we generally respect and admire, and living up to their high standards can be challenging. No longer the big fish in the small pond of high school, staying competitive and impressive is no longer a walk in the park, and saying "no" becomes a potential missed opportunity. But perhaps we become so accustomed to accepting everything that is thrown our way that when something unacceptable comes to light, we choose to bury it beneath our thousand other commitments.
It is the avoidance of such subjects and the familiar failure to reach any semblance of a solution that we can no longer afford to ignore. Sexual assault, for one, is a topic that is met with wariness and weariness, and unfortunately it is not difficult to see why. Student groups, faculty and administrative efforts, initiatives and events have all targeted the problem, and while their importance cannot be undercut, they also bear with them a sense of repetition that is often met with frustration. We're beating a dead horse, and as much as we talk about it and demonize it, the horse doesn't seem to go away. But is the solution to make the discourse disappear? It's an ugly subject. It's uncomfortable, embarrassing and, in a word, unacceptable at an institution like Dartmouth. But it happens, and if saying "no" doesn't stop it from happening, we cannot afford to keep saying "no" to its existence.
Recognizing a problem is one thing taking the time to talk about it and deal with it is quite another, and it requires a new level of commitment and passion. These are two qualities that I sincerely believe every Dartmouth student possesses. Hanover might be a bubble, but we cannot afford to live in one. Even though it may feel as though we're rehashing the same topics over and over again and bringing dark subject matter to light, we are a real place with real problems that deserve real solutions. Change doesn't happen overnight, but that doesn't mean it's not worth a night, or many nights, of conversation. We owe it to ourselves and to our school to face the music, and start saying "no" to things that we don't stand for.
