Let's talk history.
In 1895, College President William Jewett Tucker established the creatively named "Dartmouth Night," an evening of speeches that celebrate the legacy of the College and her alumni. The event got moved outside and after a while, somebody must have gotten cold or wanted more light and thus bonfires became a "thing" forever linked with Dartmouth Night.
One hundred and eighteen years later, we still do Dartmouth Night. Homecoming Weekend now without a doubt a "thing" may be the most important of our holidays. Homecoming is sacred, so much so that professors regularly cancel class for it (it's almost as important as disturbances in Class of 1953 Commons, clearly)! A football game now shares the weekend spotlight with the bonfire and, in a particularly inclusive nod to community, the presence of neophyte Dartmouthians receives honor in the annual running of the bulls/circle of burning death.
Homecoming weekend reveals the best and worst of our community. Tradition, an oft-evoked notion, referred to nebulously by people attempting to justify all sorts of absurd and meaningless things, has the potential to awe during moments that we as a community have decided will define a term. What is fall without Dartmouth Night? Most students refer to the bonfire (but curiously never the football game) as a defining moment in their Dartmouth careers. I remember running around the blaze in full view of Dartmouth past and present with my freshman floor and being monumentally impressed."This is college," I thought even if it seemed cultish and vaguely like the funeral of Achilles at the end of "Troy."
The fact that so many people associate this weekend both with collegiate culture in general and Dear Old Dartmouth in particular says a lot about our institution. Having been to other schools' homecomings, I can honestly say that ours is cooler. Not only do we have marching bands and football, we also have a whole host of events, small and large, that happen exclusively here in Hanover. People are so eager to share the grandiosity of the event with friends and family that it is nearly impossible to send a picture or video message during the bonfire because of all the data leaving the Green. (Note: this is purely anecdotal and pre-LTE. Perhaps Verizon has stepped up since last year.)
But along with welcoming students past and present, glorifying our singularly rustic identity and happily offering the potential of second-degree burns, Homecoming has its share of problems. Just as the weekend is emblematic of traditions we generally look at as "good," the weekend also hosts many of the issues that fall under the critical glare of students, alumni and various national publications. When I poll friends, the second most anticipated part of Homecoming is usually some form of "drinking my face off." What does it say about this student body when the response to "let's go to the bonfire to celebrate community and welcome new members of our school" is "Great! Lets quickly drink five or six beers!" The criticized aspects of big weekends are criticized for a reason. I'm not saying "don't have fun," but while you're attempting your circuit, decade or other ridiculous and embarrassing tradition, be careful.
Homecoming was crystallized two years ago. I was walking with a friend past the smoldering ruins on the Green early in the morning and stopped to stare into the embers for a bit. There were about 20 others, ranging from veteran Homecomers in Class of 1961 sweaters, to a young couple who informed me that they met on their freshman floor in 2002, to a few freshmen that may have fallen asleep from exhaustion. Nobody really talked much, but I felt as if there was a shared sentiment of wonder, uncanny among such disparate people, to be on a dark college quad in the middle of nowhere and for that moment to resonate in the same way for all of us.
Happy Homecoming. Maybe, this time around, forget your tirelessly constructed criticisms of this school. Leave the frat basement or chemistry lab for a bit. Perhaps even reflect on why you wear flair (really though, why?). The real value of this weekend and the reason it is not just another weekend lies in its ability to help us remember what makes us special and what connects us. I hope you embrace that wholeheartedly.
