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She woke just as the light in the room went from dark to dim. She lay on her side, the blanket clutched tightly to her chin but in a tangle at her hips. Her ankles and feet were exposed. The air in the room was warm, though — the silence draped itself, softly, covering everything. The darkness was gentle. Her eyelids blinked and came up to rest halfway. As the fuzziness receded from the edges of her vision, amorphous forms crept slowly into a vague definition. The beds lined around the walls of the room took shape, then so did the varied shapes and lumps of slumber that inhabited them. Everything was still. She took a deep breath.
Saba photographs her interpretation of this issue's theme, "That Which is Public."
Saba Nejad '18 explores the theme of "Escape" in this week's photo essay.
Whether it is a giggling sprint across a bridge, an interrupted final or a quick getaway in the stacks, the scandal of nudity has always played a role in shaping common Dartmouth experiences. But acting out these traditions is always short-lived — most of the time you’re moving fast to avoid something: the wrath of Hanover Police, accidental eye contact with a professor or the (un)-conscious embarrassment of being naked in public. Adrenaline-filled and hasty, some Dartmouth traditions simultaneously recognize that being naked violates the social code of clothedness, while illuminating just how much the bare body is to be protected from the public eye.
Although Americans disagree about President Donald Trump’s job performance during his first eight-and-a-half months in office, both his supporters and his opponents agree that Trump has upended the status quo in Washington, D.C.
We all lapse out of consciousness every night when we sleep, but what happens when we depart from consciousness during our waking hours? This week, the Mirror interviewed professor of psychological and brain sciences Peter Tse to learn more about the basis of consciousness and how people depart from it every day.
Seven hours and 55 minutes: that’s how long it takes me to get from my house in the suburbs of Denver, Colorado all the way to my dorm in Hanover, New Hampshire. My friends from home are always appalled when I tell them that, and they haven’t even heard how long it takes to get here from Los Angeles or Seattle. The idea of taking not only a four hour flight, but also a three hour bus ride — just to get to school — is unfathomable to them.
When you think of obsessive-compulsive disorder, what’s the first thing that pops into your mind? A year ago, I associated it with compulsive handwashing and cleanliness, just as many people do. But obsessive-compulsive disorder is a psychological disorder that is largely misunderstood by the public. The easiest way to describe it involves breaking down its name: the obsessions are fears that one’s brain latches onto, while the compulsions are mental or physical tasks that one repeats over and over to prevent those fears from coming true. The compulsions have the opposite effect than intended, however, and they make the fears stronger. Although it may seem easy to simply not perform the compulsions, from the viewpoint of a person with OCD, it just has to be done. It is important to remember that usually the obsessions don’t make sense to outsiders — the brain distorts the obsessions and intensifies the fear for OCD sufferers. For example, the most commonly portrayed obsession in the media is the fear of contamination from germs, while the most commonly portrayed compulsion for this is excessive handwashing. While there are definitely people who suffer from this form of OCD, it is by no means the only form that OCD can take, and I learned that the hard way.
This morning, Annette, May and Lauren woke up refreshed from a great Monday of classes, like always, and rejuvenated after a healthy Homecoming weekend, like always.
This article was featured in the 2017 Homecoming Issue.
This article was featured in the 2017 Homecoming Issue.
This column was featured in the 2017 Homecoming Issue.
Based on the Family Medical Leave Act, qualifying American parents must be allowed 12 weeks of job-protected leave to care for a newborn. Considering the average maternity leave is 17.7 weeks in advanced nations, American working parents are already at a disadvantage compared to the rest of the industrialized world, according to the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development. Add in the fact that every other advanced country mandates paid maternity leave, and one can’t help but wonder why the U.S. lags so far behind.
Environmental studies professor Terry Osborne focuses on the spiritual connections between Americans and the natural world as well as Earth’s current environmental degradation. He teaches the first-year seminar, “COVER Stories: Community Building & the Environment.” The community-based course explores the construction of community as we know it through storytelling and writing. Students work with a local organization called COVER, which gives urgent home repair for members of the Upper Valley.
When students think of Homecoming today, a certain stockpile of images appears. These images include, but are not limited to, enjoying a full social calendar of events and basement debauchery, running around the famous bonfire and, for a select few, racing up to touch the fire with the pride of their class riding high on their simultaneously cold and sweaty shoulders.
Every Dartmouth term is different. Not just in the cocktail of classes we take or in the people who zip in and out of our lives. Within the insanity of our intermingling D-Plans, every 10 weeks brings a completely unique combination of people to campus. From one term to the next, what one may argue makes Dartmouth special — the people — is never the same. Yet while life here sometimes feels fleeting at best, we nonetheless learn to find home within the never-changing architectural landscape. Home comes to be the memories echoed in the alcoves of Sanborn Library, the ghosts of small talk past on First Floor Berry or the wisps of a conversation that mark a corner of the Green your own. It’s individual, unique and self-defined within these common and unchanging spaces we share.