Use the fields below to perform an advanced search of The Dartmouth 's archives. This will return articles, images, and multimedia relevant to your query.
1000 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
Welcome to the Woods. A big part of Dartmouth culture is being outdoors — from First-Year Trips to the Connecticut River to the central location of the Green, many students are eager for the opportunity to feel the hill winds in their veins.
Well, it’s finally winter. Now that there is snow on the ground — and snowballs flying through the midnight air — it feels like the term is truly underway. Then again, it’s already week four. Midterm season has commenced and it’s the beginning of the grind, but we also have enough time to keep procrastinating for just a little bit longer. Maybe it’s the fact that our first week was only three days long, but something about the passage of time just feels off this term.
It’s a routine — at 9:30 a.m., my alarm blares and I groan and squint against the bright light peeking around the sides of my blinds. Fifteen minutes later, I’m shivering in my pajama shorts while rummaging through my drawers looking for something to wear. If I were practical, I’d choose a long sleeve shirt, heavy sweatshirt and some thick sweatpants for the day’s outfit. But is that really the aesthetic I want to embody today? What do I want to say about myself through my clothing — besides that I’m really chilly and running late to my 10A?
Looking around the Class of 1953 Commons this term, not much has changed. Bake My Day still has baked goods, the salad station still has salads and the soup station still has, well, soup. However, upon my arrival to campus, I could not stop hearing about a change to what is perhaps the biggest staple of college dining — chicken nuggets. And after I had the opportunity to try them, I immediately understood what all of the excitement was about.
I have always been familiar with the phrase, “The people make the place.” However, I have never heard it voiced as emphatically as at Dartmouth. After a year on campus, I say it myself with a conviction that my high school self would be in awe of.
Why do we forget what Martin Luther King Jr. stood for? In life, he was resented. In 1968 — the year of his death — nearly three-quarters of the American public disapproved of him. To the vast majority of white people, he was radical, disruptive and dangerous. To his peers, he was too passive, too patient. Some younger Black activists thought of his nonviolent approach as ineffective and adopted more extreme measures, mocking King all the while.
Hours spent poring over books in hopes of finding the perfect source. Weekends spent huddled in the library instead of skiing with friends. Draft upon draft of each chapter, constantly making edits. Sleepless nights and jam-packed days — all for a thesis. Is all of this worth it?
Hello there, Dartmouth. How’s your third week of winter? Are you settling into familiar routines? Coming back from the library past midnight, brushing your teeth in the fluorescent lights of the dorm bathroom mirror and going to sleep after 30 to 45 minutes of scrolling through your social media of choice? Me too.
Adedoyin Teriba, a professor of art history, is already building a strong foundation at Dartmouth, after joining the faculty in the fall. With a focus on the architecture of African diasporic communities and West Africa, Teriba brings a forward-thinking, multidisciplinary view to his classes here at Dartmouth. His current book project is “Architecture’s Figures: Assimilation and Cultures in Colonial Nigeria,” which also investigates the interplay of architectural forms and masquerade processions in southwest Nigeria.
At any given college, on any given morning, there is a decided omnipresence of caffeinated drinks and bleary eyes. Campuses are flooded with coffee. Iced, hot, from Starbucks, homemade — or dorm-made, rather. The point is: you name a form of caffeine, you’ll probably see it.
I’m from New England, I have a February birthday and — evidently — I chose to go to college in New Hampshire. From these facts alone, one might assume that I’m prepared for or accustomed to harsh winters. The reality, however, is quite the opposite. In fact, I am overwhelmed by the prospect of my first winter at Dartmouth.
Like many students at Dartmouth, I look forward to going home for the holidays over winterim. My ideal holiday season is almost formulaic:
My family has never been one to celebrate New Year’s Eve. By the time the ball drops, we’re usually asleep. As a result, the beginning of the new year has never felt much like an occasion to set drastic goals, and I’ve often preferred to set seasonal goals instead of year-long resolutions. This has grown even more true at Dartmouth, where each term is so drastically different that it would be almost impossible to come up with a laundry list of unifying goals.
According to an average Instagram scroll, there are a couple different types of winterim available to Dartmouth students, all of which have their pros and cons:
And just like that, we’re back. Hanover might not have looked like a winter wonderland when we stepped off the coach, but it was still a welcome sight. Maybe it’s just a sign that we’re settling into our senior status, but there’s something oddly reassuring about returning just in time for a bout of dismal weather. Every year, our six-week winterim has a funny way of feeling both too long and not long enough, but coming back just feels right. I (Caris) even caught myself telling my family — while home in California — that I was excited to fly “home” (to Dartmouth) after New Year’s.
The days of inevitably and routinely finding yourself at the mercy of Domino’s delivery after a night out, of eating an assortment of snacks for dinner if you dared to wait until 9 p.m. to eat on a weekend, are over.
Dartmouth College is a little bubble surrounded by beautiful scenery. Only 17% of the students in my class — the class of 2026 — who go to school here are from New England, so the environment is a new experience for the vast majority. I talked to students who travel to campus from far and wide about their perspective on New Hampshire and the Upper Valley as a whole.
It’s been November for a couple of weeks, but it’s finally starting to feel like it. Today, while procrastinating papers and attempting to clear my head, I went for a walk in the woods behind the golf course. It’s easy to forget that we’re so close to nature — the golf course has gone untended since the varsity golf team stopped practicing there, and now the overgrown grass is less of a stark separation from the forest behind it. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and looked up at the sharp branches which made up the canopy above my head. It will look exactly like that until March or April. The winter always feels like the longest part of the year, even though it has the shortest days.
I recently sent my first flitz to a girl that I met briefly at a party. I was nervous, but hopeful. She flitzed me back a day later, agreeing to a coffee date — only to tell me five hours later that she had a terrible habit for flirting and was already involved with someone else. But we still got coffee and had a good time, and I gained a friend in the process.
When our alarms go off in the morning, we drag ourselves out of bed, mentally cursing every extra minute that we stayed up the night before. With late-night homework, the temptation to go out and the ever-earlier wakeup times for class and cramming in the morning, our precious sleep hours are the last priority, the first thing sacrificed to shove something else into our schedule.
