One of Dartmouth's distinguishing characteristics is its emphasis on the importance of upholding tradition. In many ways, Dartmouth seems to highlight its various traditions as the primary components of its institutional DNA. What truly separates us from our peers, we are told, are the practices and rituals that have been shared for decades. Other schools may also be prestigious, tenure prominent faculty or provide a valuable education to undergraduates, but no other Ivy League school has its freshman class run around a bonfire as a sort of initiation ritual. Experiences like Winter Carnival, Green Key, the Ledyard Challenge and our own, special Greek system are what separate us from the other, more boring institutions that compete to educate the finest young minds in the world. Such a message is, beginning with DOC First-Year Trips, preached as a sort of gospel. To not buy into this attitude is to forgo a part of the "Dartmouth experience" and to miss out on what specifically makes our beloved College so special.
April is a wonderful month for any sports fan. The NCAA tournament is concluded, the NBA playoffs begin and a new baseball season gets underway. But the best part of the month, perhaps, is that the Masters kicks off golf's annual major tournament schedule. The Masters, though not golf's oldest tournament, is its most prestigious and revered. Held at the beautiful Augusta National Golf Club in Georgia, it is a four-day-long celebration, Old South-style, of tradition itself. From year to year, the Masters takes place in a kind of time warp. The event is the only major tournament to be held at the same course every year, and so, every April, thousands of well-dressed patrons enjoy $2.50 egg salad sandwiches next to spectacular azaleas in full bloom. The same iconic green jacket is awarded to the tournament's winner, who is honored at an annual dinner held before the following year's event. Perhaps the only variable of the Masters' ritual is the menu at the champion's dinner, which changes with the winner.
But while the Masters is a wonderful and rightly celebrated event, the history of its host course has been controversial. Like many genteel institutions in the Deep South, Augusta National possesses a track record of exclusion. Membership at Augusta is, regardless of race or gender, one of the most difficult invitations in the world to come by. Even Bill Gates, who was then the wealthiest man on the planet, had to wait for years before he was allowed to join its ranks. But for decades, membership at Augusta was a possibility only for white men. The club refused to allow black members until 1990 and, more famously, refused to admit any women. As a private institution, Augusta National has long asserted its right to determine its own membership policies. Although for a while it seemed as if Augusta would resist pressure from the vocally feminist crowd and stick to its guns, the club elected to accept its first two female members just last year. Tradition, apparently, had been put aside.
While Dartmouth is a different institution than Augusta National and attending Dartmouth is not exactly like attending the Masters, parallels exist. Both Dartmouth and Augusta National are elite, wealthy and proud places with a strong sense of tradition. And as both demonstrate, institutional reform is hard to come by amidst an atmosphere that is primarily concerned with the continuation of and adherence to existing policies and ways of life. Disagreement with the status quo at Dartmouth, while not usually shouted down, is nonetheless often dismissed as disloyal to the values that make this school what it is. A more appropriate response to such dialogue, whether it relates to the Greek system or academic life, would be to understand that there is not one "Dartmouth experience" or even one idea of Dartmouth. It is wrong to assign an institutional mold to students and hope that they come to accept it; rather, Dartmouth is best discovered and understood individually. Maintaining "tradition," whatever that means, should be a secondary concern.