As a person who has a history of taking herself too seriously, I was initially drawn to Dartmouth’s rigorous academics and sense of community. Little did I know I was getting myself into four years of pranks, summer camp vibes and ridiculousness. Here, play is taken most seriously of all.
When you arrive on campus, you think you’ve got a couple days to relax during orientation before classes start, right? Wrong. The adventures begin during First-Year Trips, a four-day outdoor experience for freshmen led by upperclassmen. Nearly 90% of incoming freshmen go on First-Year Trips, and anyone who’s done them can tell you that it really is all fun and games. I won’t go into too much detail to save the surprises for future classes, but I was unprepared for the silly costumes called “flair” that the upperclassmen Croo members wear to set the standard that freshmen don’t need to worry about how their classmates perceive them. I was also unprepared for the amount of pranks my trip leaders and their Vox Croo friends would pull on us, but I’ll leave those to the imagination too.
The fun doesn’t stop during the first weeks of classes. Though I haven’t been part of a wake-up yet, many friends have recounted the exciting surprise of being disturbed from your sleep at the crack of dawn with a list of tasks and activities to complete. Clubs at Dartmouth don’t begin with seriousness or artificiality — only merriment and authenticity. In my experience, many classes start this way, too. My professors make significant effort to make class fun, whether that’s by hypnotizing our entire lecture hall, scheduling field trips or leading engaging discussions about artificial intelligence’s ability to write more creatively than humans. Because of the culture Dartmouth students and faculty create around trips and clubs, instead of feeling social anxiety and intense nerves, I felt excitement –– something high school-me would not have believed.
While I’ve worked hard to be less tense and anxious, I certainly still feel that way, especially before exams. After completing my first exam this term, I knew I wanted to try something new to continue the streak of stepping outside of my comfort zone. I didn’t know what that would look like until I found myself at the top of the Gile Mountain firetower with one of my trippees and a group of other ’30s I hadn’t met. That crisp 5 a.m. Tuesday sunrike was not what I expected to become one of my favorite Dartmouth memories.
At Dartmouth, students take their work and activities seriously, but play is taken seriously, too. Dartmouth students thrive off of absurdity and model a culture of belonging by ensuring that no one is afraid to look silly. Silliness fosters friendship by lowering expectations of social barriers and formalities that students might expect coming in. There is more vulnerability in a room of people who show their goofy side, leading to stronger connections. Showing up to meetings in ridiculous costumes or demonstrating psychological theories on classmates in lectures forms unique bonds that are difficult to replicate on campuses where play is not a priority. In addition, silliness reduces stress and puts even some of the toughest academic challenges in perspective.
I’ve learned thus far that behind all the costumes and tricks, Dartmouth is quietly shaping future leaders. The best leaders are those who motivate others through humor and eccentricity, rather than intolerance of jokes or fun. Encouraging your peers to be silly makes it easier to try new things, take risks and learn from mistakes. When you approach a new challenge or opportunity with humor, there is less pressure to be perfect and more excitement toward unfamiliarity. Students are also more likely to be excited to try a difficult problem set or practice exam again if a mistake is responded to with laughter instead of frustration. In a world where people are seeking authenticity and humanity more than ever, there is nothing more human than humor.
It is already clear to me that playful and sometimes ridiculous experiences are of high importance at Dartmouth. Whether you’re an eager applicant or a senior who still hasn’t gone on a sunrike, I hope you get to be a student in crazy flair sprinting up the Dartmouth Skiway.
Opinion articles represent the views of their author(s), which are not necessarily those of The Dartmouth.
