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(05/29/98 9:00am)
Something strange happened to me about three weeks ago as I was making my way into a crowded cafe during a typical lunch hour in Manhattan. I'm no stranger to New York City and yet my feet felt out of step walking up and down 56th Street. I was scared. I wasn't exactly sure what frightened me but as I sat down alone at the bar to eat my oversized sandwich I felt kind of sad. Almost like I was going to cry. But I couldn't. And I didn't want to either.
(05/21/98 9:00am)
With graduation so near, I have had the wonderful opportunity to attend several student thesis presentations this spring term. Wow! What interesting projects my fellow students have pursued over the course of the year! How special that I, a student uneducated in Japanese politics or consumer safety or Mexico, could enter a library or conference room for one hour and find myself completely engaged in this new material. Each presentation that I attended forced me to open my mind and educational experience. It was very important for me to respect the interests of my friends even if I could not relate to their academic pursuits. Generally I consider myself to be an open-minded person. But in listening to my friends, I realized two things about myself and the quality of my education at Dartmouth: I know very little, and I don't know a lot. Now, this doesn't mean that I am stupid, for I have a higher esteem of myself than that; but I have been astonished by the amount of knowledge that exists in the world that I cannot begin to grasp. There is so much to tap into in our universe and yet never enough time to pursue each and every interest. What if I lived to 100 and had never discovered Paul Klee? What if I died tomorrow without having heard Vivaldi's Four Seasons? What if I never read John Irving or visited Mount Sinai or learned how to say sauerkraut in French?
(05/13/98 9:00am)
Can you remember a time when you were younger and, oh, such a kid? Perhaps a time when you thought that you would never reach the seventh grade and that all of the eighth graders were the coolest kids in the hallways, their lockers towering over you like pillars of reverence. The sixth grade was kind of a liminal period in my life. I was neither here nor there. I was volatile; just 11, chubby, bouncy and intense.
(05/07/98 9:00am)
So recently I applied for a job where I was required to send in a set of my fingerprints. Let me clarify: new fingerprints. Not the ones the hospital took of me when I was just a few days young. Not the prints my mother has lying on a shelf in our basement in a baby book. The FBI needs to run a check on my almost 22-year-old soon-to-be Dartmouth graduate finger prints.
(04/29/98 9:00am)
In general I like the selection of food at Dartmouth. I often find myself eating better in Hanover than I would at home. My culinary background is outstandingly mediocre. We don't cook much in my home. I admit, we have two microwaves that get more use than our oversized post-modern fridge and our deluxe oven. We do grill often, but usually the season to grill is limited.
(04/17/98 9:00am)
Kudos to James Wright for recognizing Dartmouth's value as a research institution. What a way to credit the students and faculty here at Dartmouth who are currently spending their time in excellent research: medicine, science, drama, history, gay and lesbian studies, history, psychology etc. Research is and will always be an important element in a liberal arts education. I praise Wright for recognizing the quality of research at Dartmouth College. Just remember that old proverb: You can't judge a book by its cover.
(04/15/98 9:00am)
When my father turned 13, he celebrated his Bar-Mitzvah. It was just days after the assassination of President Kennedy. He begged his parents to serve a dinner of prime rib at the following reception. I don't even like prime rib. When I was 13 years old, I, too, celebrated my Bat-Mitzvah with my family and friends. I was lucky to share the special weekend with my younger (by four days) cousin Nancy. That was nine years ago, almost 10. My great-grandfather was alive then.
(03/31/98 10:00am)
The recent tragedy of the school yard shootings in Arkansas has lead me to think about criminal acts in our society. After all, what characteristics make one a criminal? Are the two boys accused of killing five members of their school community killers or are they children who expressed their anger in the most negative of ways?
(02/26/98 11:00am)
This past weekend I went home for a job interview in New Jersey. However, I forgot that my mother Diane and her friend, also Diane, were throwing a surprise wedding shower for one of their close friends, Marcye, for a second marriage. Saturday morning arrived and I awoke rather early so that I could help my mom with some small errands before the shower which was at noon. It was an absolutely beautiful day and in a way I rejoiced at my weekend getaway. I knew that I would know most of the people at the shower, and I had high hopes for a lovely day.
(02/10/98 11:00am)
Imagine yourself late at night craving a spoonful or two of the fabulous fat-free Carvel ice cream from Food Court. You are in the middle of reading your Maimonides assignment for your religion culminating experience and suddenly you feel like a mystic as you have visions of chocolate sprinkles and M&Ms atop your swirled dessert. You walk from your favorite study spot to Thayer and from half way around the room see "the machine."
(01/28/98 11:00am)
I am a Religion major and both of my roommates are English majors. One of them is a creative writing major. Having heard them discuss their respective writing classes at Dartmouth, I decided to finally take one. It had been almost four years since I took English 5, so I figured that I would submit a sample to the department and take my chances. I was excited and very surprised to gain acceptance to English 80 for this term.
(01/14/98 11:00am)
Many of us at Dartmouth -- graduating seniors, '99s and 2000s looking for permanent employment and leave-term jobs -- are often faced with interviews, essays, applications and more. At times it can make you feel like you are in the midst of reapplying to college.
(11/07/97 11:00am)
I was in my living room last week on Thursday night or early Friday morning when I heard this tremendous crash in the nearby kitchen. Next, I heard the shrill of my roommate's voice. I jumped up to see what had happened. I wasn't too surprised. My roommate (one of them) had nearly been killed by a kitchen light fixture that fell to the ground, splintering into a million sharp pieces.
(10/29/97 11:00am)
Last week I received a perfectly typed copy of my college transcript. I laughed when I saw the seal on my transcript. It looked so official, so crisp. I was almost afraid to touch it. I decided to skim the transcript checking over my courses and my past grades. Soon I became excited as I looked at my grades, for there were As and A-s and several B+s. I had forgotten that I had done so well my first few terms here.
(10/17/97 9:00am)
My first year at Dartmouth I was in a great Spanish class spring term. Although I liked my drill instructor, I really liked the other section's drill instructor more. I guess I had a crush on him. He was smart and very funny and rather handsome. This was a very innocent crush that had a lasting effect on my Dartmouth career.
(04/30/97 9:00am)
"Watch out!" screamed my friend as we were turning the corner that connects Tuck Drive to the Gold Coast. But it was too late. I had already run into a young girl as she skidded her new bicycle into my driver's side mirror. The girl was fine and she quickly picked up her bike, but I was not as stable.
(04/03/97 10:00am)
To the Editor:
(04/01/97 10:00am)
California. Just hearing the name evokes tremendous memories that make me want to hop on the cheapest flight back to Lindberg Field, the airport in San Diego.
(10/11/96 9:00am)
I have a plea for my fellow students. It is a result of a lesson I learned this week from a helpful professor, Paul Gaffney, who is the new chair of the drama department. I ask each of you as students to help yourselves and the world we live in by trying to listen to and accept instead of judge. The ability to listen to another person and pretend that we are in someone else's shoes is very difficult. Too often, I forget this important virtue even though it may be the most important virtue in life. It is one thing to "hear," i.e., to feel soundwaves hit your eardrum and quite another to "listen," and actually think about what is being said, sung, or even cried at you.
(09/26/96 9:00am)
To the Editor: