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You hear the words “I’m fine” all the time at Dartmouth. It’s part of the lingo, the same as words like “Foco” and “facetimey.” It’s just something we say. Whether we’re inundated by three midterms over the course of 48 hours, four extracurricular meetings in a single day or a crisis at home that we are unable to deal with, when someone waves at us across the hall and asks how we’re doing, the vast majority of us respond with the same two words.
If a Cornell or University of Pennsylvania student were to stand in the middle of the Green on a sunny day, they might overhear comments containing foreign phrases such as “My English class is such a layup” or “He never responded to my flitz....” The visitor might scratch their head, shrug their shoulders and say, “It’s all Greek to me.” At Dartmouth, we have our very own language, reflecting our unique culture cultivated in the hills of New Hampshire. With any language, there are idioms and expressions reserved for fluent speakers who understand these unique phrases.
The Rassias method, created by former French and Italian professor John Rassias, has touched countless students and teachers globally. Even after his passing in 2015, this legacy continues to grow and influence language education worldwide. Developed during Rassias’s time teaching languages to Peace Corps volunteers, the Rassias method was designed to engage people in learning the language by emphasizing real-life situations and the spoken word.
Numbers confuse me, science eludes me, but fortunately I possess the “useless” ability to hear the rhythm between words and read too deeply into texts — to transform the female body into a gesture of capitalist resistance, a character’s mixed skin tone into the embodiment of hybridity, a spectral figure into the enduring presence of our past or — if I’m feeling particularly misanthropic — the nonhuman, neoliberal Other.
While some of the fraternities at the College may fall under certain stereotypes, many fraternities have diversified their incoming classes to better encompass the College’s different strengths, from its sport teams to its student government. This is a vastly different outcome than the homogeneity that can result from block rushing — when a group of friends or teammates rush a single fraternity.
By some mishap I’ve ended up here: senior spring, less than seven weeks left until I lose student discounts and access to the Cube and the Onion — not to mention other trivial points, like lifelong friends and alumni connections and what not. Every day since the realization of my impending graduation hit has been a day of mild existential crisis, where my own identity and impact here feel like a philosophical question that even Aristotle or Socrates would break down at. In the midst of one particularly existentially stressful day, a friend-acquaintance whose friendship thus far has been limited to a single climbing trip passed by me and gave me the highlight of my day: a smile and a “Hey!”
Thousands of years ago, legend says that the Greek hero Heracles, having killed his own family in an act of madness, traveled to the Oracle of Delphi to learn how he could atone for his wrongdoings. The Oracle instructed him to serve King Eurystheus for 12 years, completing any tasks that the king requested.
Alex Battison was 20 years old when he started working at Collis Café. He had dropped out of Norwich University, a private military college in Vermont, a couple of months earlier and was hired by the College through a temp agency. I met Alex in my Math 3 class last term, five years after he first came to the College. Alex’s experiences at Dartmouth have revealed some interesting facts about the nature of our school.
How often do you get lost in thought? Have you ever been daydreaming, your mind miles away from the task at hand, a distant look in your eyes? Has a friend ever turned to you and asked, “Penny for your thoughts?” Perhaps you were dreaming about the nap you planned on taking later, or your weekend plans, and you’ve now snapped out of your stupor. In a world where education has a price and is considered an investment, where theoretical education is prized over practical training, where success can be defined by the jobs we get after graduation, how do we measure the worth of our education? How valuable are our thoughts? This week, Mirror explores the different ways we measure our worth, the balance between work and education and the life of the mind on campus today.
If you had to put a price on your brain, how much would it be?
Since the College’s original class graduated in August 1771, Commencement ceremonies have honored nearly every class of graduating Dartmouth students. After four or more years studying at Dartmouth, students celebrate their accomplishments while receiving some final guidance. Though Dartmouth’s Commencement exercises have evolved significantly over the last few centuries, the tradition of Commencement speeches remains relatively unchanged.
Choosing to attend a private college comes at a price, a price many choose to pay in the hopes of obtaining a higher return. The College is ranked eighth on the list of the best universities and colleges on basis of salary potential according to PayScale, with alumni earning a median of $68,300 in the first five years of their career and reaching a median of $150,800 for those with ten or more years of experience. Out of the top universities listed, Dartmouth’s average midosalary value ranks higher than Duke University, Harvard University and Yale University.
“Social Media in the Age of Terrorism and Hate.” “How Social Relationships Affect our Relationship to Food.” “Should We Abolish Marriage?”
Imagine what a powerlifter looks like and it is probably someone muscular. Someone whose extraordinary strength shows with every lift, the weights much heavier than the average person could manage.
At a college in the middle of New Hampshire’s scenic mountains and verdant forests, students have the freedom to spend as much time as possible in the surrounding environment. From the moment students begin their Dartmouth Outing Club First-Year Trips, Dartmouth can bring about a new appreciation for activities in nature.
Though survival at Dartmouth takes no clear-cut path, certain “tools” are universal, even if they manifest themselves differently for each of us. They often range from the mundane to the bizarre, from the obvious to the not-so-obvious.
Imagine this. It’s finals week, and the amount of material to be learned far surpasses the amount of time before the exam. Every minute of time is crucial, so trekking to the stacks for complete isolation to cram sounds like the perfect solution. That is, until everything becomes a distraction: the books on the shelves, the white noise of the room and the view outside the window all seem to be far more interesting than last week’s economics lecture.
Preparing for and applying to medical school is a challenging process. This is certainly true at Dartmouth College, where students must complete each of their pre-health requirements during 10-week academic terms.
Approximately three miles north of campus, a little deeper into the peaceful hills of the Upper Valley lies a farm “for the students” that offers an escape from the stress and demands that otherwise define the Dartmouth experience. This is the phrase and idea with which I came into contact multiple times during my conversations with some members of the Dartmouth Organic Farm.
Idioms are enigmatic ways of describing the chaos that is the world around us. Something in their endurance makes them comforting. They are reliable. They are a call for cohesiveness; they deconstruct what is complex and rebuild it as simple.