Kaitana Martinez ’16
As a youngster, just before blinking my tired, little eyes to sleep, I would dream about college. My childhood imagination pictured it as something like a young adult version of Disneyland. I envisioned endless snacks, fun dance parties, late-night mingling and most importantly, no bedtime!
My future university would be a fairytale kingdom with countless “Prince Charmings” vying for my heart. They would sweep me off my feet and treat me to casual lunch picnics and spontaneous stargazing adventures. College would be the pinnacle of adolescence and a grandiose gateway into adulthood.
As I grew older, however, my childhood view of college started to morph. I saw it fusing my intellectual exploration and social excitement. As I accepted the opportunity to attend Dartmouth, my excitement could hardly be contained.
I took my first steps onto campus, hopeful that college would be everything I had imagined. With all the dancing, laughing, chatting and games that came during Dartmouth Outing Club first-year trips, I thought Dartmouth might actually be the young-adult version of Disneyland I had dreamed about. As I lived out my first term on campus, however, it became apparent that college was not as splendid as I had always imagined.
I felt exhausted after full days of classes, basketball workouts, evening practices and seemingly endless studying. I had limited time to develop friendships and felt incredibly lonely. At the forefront of the social scene was a hook-up culture that contradicted my preconceived hope for a thriving dating scene. My classes were challenging me to the point of frustration— no matter how much I studied it seemed as if I could never achieve the results I desired.
It was as if my high school life of excellence had suddenly been replaced by a life of Dartmouth inadequacy. By the end of my first term, my idea of college was certainly not like Disneyland. It felt more like an episode of “Survivor.” My confidence was shattered, forcing me to do some serious soul searching.
Since my initial term, I’ve learned to embrace the difficult experiences and use them constructively to facilitate personal growth. Amid my arduous academic and athletic commitments, Dartmouth has become quite fabulous. I’ve made wonderful friends, chatted with them under the stars well into the night and danced to the point of exhaustion.
In many ways, my experience at Dartmouth has been like an extensive Disneyland roller coaster ride. It’s been full of apprehensive moments, like when the coaster cart approaches the apex of the ride. It’s offered pure exhilaration and joy throughout the adventure.
Dartmouth wasn’t the amazing, nothing-but-fun adventure I thought it would be, but I’ve learned to take the highest peaks with the lowest dips. At the end of my university experience I will proudly step off of my Dartmouth roller coaster ride with incredible memories that will accompany me for a lifetime.
Justin Maffett ’16
College was always something of a light at the end of the tunnel during high school. My older friends and nearly every college-centered movie I’d ever seen assured me that college was going to be the best four years of my life. As freshman fall approached, my logic was simple -— if I’ve only got four years to have the time of my life, then I’m going to have to start strong right off the bat.
I arrived at Dartmouth with dreams of grandeur, expecting to become the leader of several campus organizations and ace even my hardest classes, all while finding a significant other on the side. I anticipated college being difficult, but I knew I had the drive to continue the hard work I had done in high school. One of the most difficult things I had to acknowledge my freshman year was that my high school success wasn’t going to automatically translate to college success. It’s easy to think that being the editor-in-chief of your high school paper means you’ll ascend through the ranks of campus journalism, or that you’ll earn an A with the same studying techniques that got you through high school.
The path to success at Dartmouth, though, isn’t what many of us experience in high school. It requires long-term investment, all-nighters and insane time-management. Before Dartmouth, I relied on accolades and recognition from others as proof of my hard work. Coming to college, though, I’ve had to learn to congratulate myself and do work because I feel good about it.
Building up your freshman year so prematurely, though, will ultimately damage the amount of experience and growth that comes out if it. When I came to Hanover, I knew I was starting a new chapter in my life. I thought freshman year was going to be when I developed into the person I would be for the rest of my life, all while partying the night away. These thoughts, however, inflate the freshman year experience in the grand scheme of college and disregard the amount you’re going to continuously change during your entire time here.
By the end of my first year, I thought I had figured my life out. I had friends, a routine and a niche where I belonged. Yet, as I returned for my sophomore fall, I began exploring areas outside of my comfort zones. I met new people, joined a coed fraternity and challenged myself to question why I was making the decision I was making. I was having the time of my life at Dartmouth, but I had found new ways as I became more comfortable with myself and what I wanted to do.
I look at freshman year as a yearlong orientation. It’s a time to get your feet wet, to learn your way around this place and realize what it takes to succeed. You don’t need to come to freshman year with everything figured out. It’s going to be a great year, but you’ve got a whole Dartmouth experience ahead of you.
Silpa Raju ’16
“Because if Harvard, Yale, and Princeton are your self-involved, vain, name-dropping older brothers, you are the cool, sexually confident, lacrosse playing younger sibling who knows how to throw a party and looks good in a down vest.” – Conan O’Brien, Dartmouth College 2011 Commencement speech.
There’s something immensely appealing about this image of Dartmouth — smart, successful, attractive and fun. It’s the vision sold to all prospective students; in the months before I arrived for my freshman fall, that image made me fall wildly and unapologetically in love with this school.
I could not have anticipated that this was the same face of Dartmouth that I would ultimately come to resent. It paints a surface deep picture of dear old Dartmouth, a picture that tries to attribute truth to face-value and project a unified story onto a population of students with lived experiences that could not possibly be conglomerated into one Dartmouth culture.
I went through my fall term high on love for Dartmouth, reveling in the visible elements of the fun, unique and awe-inspiring story that was fed to me. Figments of reality occasionally poked through to the surface, but I was too naively infatuated to pay much attention. Then those holes grew into chasms, and my idealized picture of Dartmouth fell apart. I became jaded with the self-indulgent apathy that privilege begets and with hearing the seemingly insipid conversations about Friday nights. Now that I had begun to see the ugly sides of this place, I had no glorified vision to love.
I went to Late Night Collis on a Wednesday night, sober and in the midst of an all-nighter. As I watched a pack of drunk students, laughing and carefree, I wondered — is this all there is to Dartmouth? Studying hard and raging harder, because you’re just that good at life? For the first time, I felt like I had made a mistake in choosing Dartmouth.
In reality, my misanthropy stemmed from the same reductive vision of Dartmouth that drew me in to begin with. I was projecting the Dartmouth story, albeit cast in an unflattering light, onto a group of people who couldn’t be lumped together. Though we are collectively Dartmouth, the truth is that there is nothing inherently Dartmouth-esque about any of us. Trying to group the school’s population under one Dartmouth “vibe” fails to acknowledge the beauty of the individuals that make up this place.
I fell in love with Dartmouth again when I stopped trying to love an abstraction and started loving the concrete elements of Dartmouth — the individuals, classes, institutional resources and professors that make up the College. I am more in love with Dartmouth than ever before, but my affection is no longer blind. It is nuanced with an understanding of the flaws and greatness of our institution. Dartmouth is not one thing, and that is perhaps its greatest attribute. It is a place to carve out whatever niche is best for you.
There is no conglomerate Dartmouth reality, and I wish I had known that as a freshman. Make this place yours, know that you belong here and do exactly and only what you want, regardless of what it seems like everyone else is doing.
“Everyone” is a nonexistent abstraction. Reality is what you make of Dartmouth, and it exists exclusively through your mind.
Chris Dalldorf ’16
While I happily accepted Dartmouth’s offer of admission, it was a decision I would question often in the coming months, a feeling I’m sure many of you recognize. I wanted a strong engineering program, a liberal arts education, somewhere far from home and plenty of outdoor activities.
Dartmouth fit the bill on those aspects, but I’ve never been a fan of loud parties or dancing, two things I thought made up a large part of Dartmouth’s social life.
Once freshman year started, I made a few good friends, but I still had lingering feelings of loneliness. Maybe it was the cultural difference and maybe it was bad luck, but I had a harder time making friends at Dartmouth than I had ever had before. I wasn’t exactly depressed, but something felt like it was missing.
Perhaps I simply expected too much out of freshman year. I thought I would meet 50 new best friends in the first week and have all of these crazy freshman party stories. I thought I would love all my classes and be your stereotypical overeager freshman who loved his new college.
I wasn’t having a bad time at Dartmouth. I was having a good time, but it just didn’t compare to how I imagined my time in Hanover. The thought of transferring crossed my mind a few times, but it was never a serious option. I wanted to stay.
Things began to change sophomore year. A few friends helped me find my way into fraternities and realize that they’re a lot more than drinking clubs. I rushed sophomore fall, and it’s helped me to find my own way to love Dartmouth. I’ve gone on hikes, facilitated philanthropy events and spent hours sitting on the porch talking with my brothers.
It would’ve surprised me as a freshman to hear about a fraternity member who rarely drinks. Yet I’ve been able to find a community and group of friends who I can feel comfortable around without the need to pretend to fit the mold of a partying college student.
You’re likely going to find yourself feeling lost or confused at some point your freshmen year. You’re going to realize that there are places you feel comfortable and places you don’t.
As you make more friends, you’ll see that people all around Dartmouth find different communities and groups that make them happy.
Come to Dartmouth with an open mind and patience. If things seem rough, believe that they will turn around. You will find the place on campus where you belong.
