Alahyari: What Did Team Melli Mean this Year?
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With the arrival of summer, a familiar migration begins.
Throughout June, The Economist released Tocqueville Road Trip, a six-part podcast marking America’s 250th anniversary. The series retraces French political thinker Alexis de Tocqueville’s 1831 journey through the United States, which he later chronicled in his book “Democracy in America.”
This past week, I drove with a couple of friends to True’s Ledges, a brook and swimming hole located in West Lebanon, New Hampshire, approximately eight miles from Dartmouth’s campus. When showing a picture of the scene to some of my friends, who will also soon enter their third year on campus, practically all of them had no idea where I was. That reaction struck me and served as a reminder of how little of the surrounding area Dartmouth students are exposed to. Access like this to what isn’t just a summer perk — the same roads lead to ski hills, sugarhouses and authentic diners during winter months, the time when short days and below-freezing temperatures make campus feel most confining.
During Commencement, my Dartmouth ski coach sent her weekly team email. From her Robinson Hall office overlooking the Green, she wrote that she was “feeling nostalgic … listening to the names of the ’26s being read.”
There was a fleeting period early in my time at Dartmouth when every space was novel to me, and my eyes at any moment drifted well beyond the direction of my destination. I would scan every door and hallway I passed, trying to make sense of every space’s purpose and log in my mind where I could and couldn’t go. That period passed fairly quickly, however, and now I — like most Dartmouth students — move like a drone between the spaces that are relevant to me. Many of us only know Baker-Berry Library, for example, in the context of the parts of it we use: the lobby, to the East Reading Room, to the 1902 Room, to the Tower Room. Everything else hardly exists.
This article is featured in the 2026 Commencement special issue.
This article is featured in the 2026 Commencement special issue.
This article is featured in the 2026 Commencement special issue.
This article is featured in the 2026 Commencement special issue.
What could be controversial about awarding an honorary degree to someone who has fought for free speech for 25 years? Yet, with two pieces attacking him in The Dartmouth as a right-wing shill and transphobe, four alums have managed to create a controversy. There should be none.
At the end of fall term, my editors asked me to write a reflection on my first term at Dartmouth. I wrote a column called “Learning the Shape of a Place.” Reading it again now, at the end of freshman year, I can see exactly where I was standing when I wrote it: Only a few months into Dartmouth, still trying to orient myself inside a place that felt larger, faster and more established than I was. I wrote about feeling slightly off-balance, about the relentlessness of the quarter system and about trying to trust a process I did not yet fully understand.
Harvard faculty recently voted to cap A grades at 20% of undergraduates per course to combat grade inflation. The Dartmouth’s Opinion writers weighed in about grade inflation at Dartmouth.
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At Commencement this year, Dartmouth will award Greg Lukianoff an honorary Doctor of Laws. Lukianoff is president and CEO of the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression, a free speech advocacy group. That honor will be tremendously well-deserved.
Most of the in-class essays I’ve had to write throughout my academic career have ended in a similar scene. With a cramped right hand, I frantically flip through my blue book reviewing my work, all the while nervously glancing back at the clock to check how many seconds I have left. As I try to read over my panicked, borderline-illegible handwriting, I make peace with an inevitable truth: The essay I just wrote sucks. It’s shallow. It’s a desperate attempt to string together ideas from course readings and namedrop theories for the sake of it, and it’s mostly just nonsense. But despite the stressful process of writing it, I’m never very concerned about the quality of the final product. Why? Because I know no higher standard can be expected of in-class writing.
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