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According to data from the Drug Enforcement Administration, Dartmouth-Hitchcock Pharmacy in Lebanon distributed 5,146,260 opioid pills between 2006 to 2014, making it the pharmacy which dispensed the most opioids in Grafton County. While the number of pills is not irregular considering the size of the population the pharmacy serves, the data illustrates the opioid epidemic in the Upper Valley and New Hampshire, which is changing with a rise in fentanyl use despite the best efforts of local organizations to combat the problem.
Law and Order. Beyond being the title of a popular TV series — we know the familiar “dun dun” just played in your head — the concept is present in many facets of our daily lives. However, it is also subjective; each society has its own set of rules and regulations on par with its norms and expectations. We often believe that laws reflect what’s right and wrong — but with the variable constructions of what is good or bad, it may not be so black and white. In some countries, corporal punishment is a practical parenting method; in others, it is child abuse and illegal. In some parts of the world, marijuana can be bought and sold legally; in others, its possession can be punishable by death. In this week’s edition of the Mirror, we look at issues related to law and order. We investigate the opioid crisis in New Hampshire; we hear from the director of the Global Health Initiative Program at Dartmouth about the implications of coronovirus; and we ask our writers about their views on matters related to the law.
What does justice mean to you?
The insanity of writing a reflection piece about being a tour guide is not lost on me. I truthfully cannot believe that, of all things eligible for reflection and thought, being a tour guide is what I chose. Maybe it is because being a tour guide trainer the past two years has dominated so much of my time that a part of my brain has been conditioned to think about guide-related things at all times. Or maybe it’s because, as a senior, it’s time for me to admit that being a tour guide has become an integral part of my Dartmouth identity.
Dartmouth is a bastion of wealth, privilege and education, but towns only minutes away are being ravaged by job instability, poverty and addiction. It’s all too easy for students to enjoy the natural beauty of our surroundings and ignore the rest because these problems feel far away from our climate-controlled classrooms. However, Dartmouth and the surrounding communities aren’t immune to epidemics like the opioid crisis sweeping across rural America.
One in six Americans report running out of food at least once a year. In college, where we have meal plans and dining halls, it is easy for some to ignore this problem. But at the collegiate level, food insecurity is still an incredibly pressing issue. A 2019 survey released by Temple University’s Hope Center for College, Community and Justice indicated that 45 percent of student respondents from over 100 institutions said they had experienced food insecurity in the past 30 days. At Dartmouth, students on financial aid who have stayed on campus over interim periods have reported struggling with financing meals.
Do you cook for yourself?
Professional kitchen environments heighten many not-so-sought experiences and make a whole lot of mess, but nonetheless turn orchestrated chaos into something beautiful that nourishes you and those you care about. Before and during my time at Dartmouth, I cut my teeth (and my fingers) in professional kitchens in London, Portland, ME and Wellesley, MA. I was 17 when I worked my first shifts as a line cook. When I reminisce on my time in these spaces, my heart rate quickens, and I grow tense as if to brace myself standing in the path of a cresting wave. In the throngs of the professional kitchen environments where I worked, I could not help but feel small. I could not help but feel a bit out of place. And I could not survive unless I believed in myself, asked for assistance when I needed it, learned from my failures and celebrated my successes.
As a freshman, the majority of my meals take place in the traditional dining hall setting that is the Class of 1953 Commons, more familiarly known as Foco. I go in, try to find a free booth on light side, brave the lines for sushi or Ma Thayer’s, eat and catch up with friends, get rid of my plate and cup, and leave. It is a routine, one without thought — the food seemingly appears at the stations and the dishes apparently disappear at the dish drop. But though my napkins and food scraps are spun out of sight and out of mind, they do not simply vanish.
At the height of my Snackpass clout, I had 30 discounted entrees, 20 of them entirely free. When Snackpass launched on Dartmouth’s campus, I encouraged all my friends to use my referral code so we could both get discounts. And with the benefit of free food, it wasn’t too hard to convince most people.
Updated: February 19, 2020 at 4:48 p.m.
It is in the nature of heroes to be flawed. Whether your hero is a parent, an athlete or a political figure, at some point, everyone realizes that their idol is not perfect. It’s a part of growing up, but that doesn’t make the realization any less difficult.
Dartmouth is full of ambiguities and uncertainties. From the flexibility of the D-Plan to the fluctuating Hanover weather, there seem to be few things here that have a permanent, black-and-white definition. The students’ weird, overly specific lingo is no exception.
As a pastor’s kid growing up in the American Evangelical Church, I was surrounded by images of Jesus. He was usually depicted with light skin, brown hair and a flowing white robe, surrounded by happy little children or fluffy white sheep. Now, whenever I think about Jesus, that’s the image that immediately comes to mind. It’s a lovely pastoral scene, straight out of the storybook bibles and stained glass I grew up on. The only problem is that, according to our best knowledge of history, it’s wrong.
The end of the world — we’ve all thought about it. Whether the image that pops into your mind consists of aliens descending on Earth or acres of land engulfed in flames, the concept of “doomsday” has been present in our society’s media, literature and entertainment for centuries. However, with the looming threat of climate change — that nightmare is becoming closer and closer to reality. Footage of California’s forest fires, earthquakes in Puerto Rico and flooding in Florida have been circulating throughout the internet, rightfully terrifying all who view it. For some, these natural disasters are motivators to become more active in the movement to stop climate change. For others, the devastation of these events and the seeming imminence of total destruction is overwhelming and makes them feel helpless.
How do you show appreciation for the earth?
There’s a reason many Dartmouth students have a pair of designated “frat shoes.” The mixture of stale beer, empty cans and pong cups that covers the floors of Greek house basements will ruin a pair of shoes in minutes. For most partygoers, leaving behind the night’s messy detritus is as easy as taking off our shoes. But those cans don’t just go away — so where does all this trash go in the morning?
The impacts of climate change are omnipresent. On Feb. 6, the temperature recorded on Antarctica climbed to 64.9 degrees F. according to one estimate — the highest temperature ever recorded on the continent. In the face of imminent danger from climate change, researchers try to find ways to mitigate the effects of global warming. One such researcher is biological sciences professor Caitlin Hicks Pries. Pries studies deep soil organic carbon and its implications in climate change. The Dartmouth sat down with Pries to learn more about her research and its impact on the environment.