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A friend of mine recently argued that you cannot be both a brother in a fraternity and a good runner. While I’m not here to dissect the scrupulous grind of long-distance running or the singular focus it requires, I raise the topic for a point: There is a particular lifestyle associated with being in a fraternity, and that lifestyle, at least to my friend, is counterproductive to athletic achievement, at least with regards to running. I disagree.
As a female chess player, I had to prepare myself every time I stepped into the tournament hall for one simple truth: I would most likely be the only woman there. Sure, there are women that play chess — the tournaments for younger children or lower ranked players are filled with them, but as they get older and the playing level increases, almost all drop out, unable to handle the pressure of having to constantly prove their worth in a field where few appreciate female effort.
In the weeks leading up to the election, we as potential voters are bombarded with a constant stream of messages and calls to action. From electing the proper presidential candidate to stave off impending doom to making sure that we vote on the newest amendment to “preserve family values,” every election comes with a tidal wave of contradicting directions from both sides of the aisle. One message it seems that everyone can agree on, however, is that everyone who can register to vote should do so to make sure that they can cast a ballot on Election Day.
We the rejects of sorority recruitment are here. We exist, in the flesh.
Western society has always placed a premium on debate. From the early forums of Rome to the current political boxing ring, intellectual activity has been consistently built on discussion. Yet this blind worship of discourse has its drawbacks, notably when it comes to how easily it can silence minority voices. We as a society are so insistent on proving our own points that we unintentionally silence those who need to be heard the most.
On Wednesday, I had breakfast with South House professor Kathryn Lively to discuss ways to improve the new housing system at the College. Before our meeting, I was admittedly skeptical: According to upperclassmen, the housing system was a device engineered by the administration to squash the Greek system and micromanage student life. I was told that the administration was opaque and sluggish; in short, good luck trying to get anything meaningful done on campus.
In the final sprint of arguably the most bizarre election in American history, every possible news source is beyond saturated with the words “Trump” and “Clinton.” Like many Americans, I am tired. I am tired of the political vitriol, the crude and indecent dialogue and the utter failure of the media and candidates to ge nuinely address matters of substance. I am tired of having to justify everything as a choice between the lesser of two evils. And most of all, I am tired of feeling embarrassed, as an American citizen, of the international laughingstock we have become.
I have never before spoken as much as I did during rush. Not even during Trips, Orientation or the first few weeks of freshman fall, when I was bombarded by a whirlpool of new stimuli and hundreds of eager fellow freshmen, did I speak that much. By the end of each day of rush, my mouth was dry, my throat hurt and my brain felt fried. Yet, I never would have thought it could actually be fun, especially considering my introverted tendencies and legitimate fear of small talk. Dartmouth is filled to the brim with outstanding, intelligent and bold women who each carry her own unique set of passions and interests. It was an incredible experience to finally meet them — after, unfortunately, an entire year at Dartmouth.
We are often told that diversity is a virtue to treasure. We must be welcoming of all cultures, we are told, and we must accept them with love and tolerance. And indeed, this is a most desirable outcome. Diversity is vital to a thriving society. But, I ask, do these oh-so fierce proponents of diversity understand exactly what it is? Do they, for all their buzzwords and Tumblr savvy, truly grasp what it means to be a “diverse” society?
Donald Trump’s son recently faced criticism for a tweet that compared Syrian refugees to a bowl of Skittles. Accompanied by a graphic of a bowl filled with Skittles, Donald Trump Jr. wrote, “If I had a bowl of Skittles and I told you just three would kill you. Would you take a handful?” Most of the American public found that this image was offensive, trivializing the hardships of refugees and demonstrating a lack of sympathy. After deleting the tweet, Trump Jr. called his post a metaphor for “risk and probability” — but this doesn’t make the image any less problematic.
Most Dartmouth students were introduced to the new house community structures, or “centers,” when they arrived on campus this fall. The new buildings, one of which is located behind Gile Hall and the other behind the tennis courts next to the Alumni Gym, are a product of the new house community system implemented earlier this year as a part of the “Moving Dartmouth Forward” policy initiative. The building by Gile, a wooden, two-story structure, is meant for School and Allen Houses, while the other is meant for South and North Park Houses. Both buildings were designed to be temporary spaces where students from those houses — and others, if they so please — can talk, work and create a social environment all their own. It is commendable that the administration is trying to provide social spaces for a student body that has had limited access to alternative options. This focus on funneling resources and time into the house community system, however, seems like an empty gesture when there is still so much to be done with the housing system itself.
“I don’t need to go into office for the power. I have houses all over the world, stupendous boats... beautiful airplanes, a beautiful wife, a beautiful family... I am making a sacrifice.” One would probably think that these words belong to this year’s Republican candidate for the presidency, Donald Trump. Yet these words were said long before Trump, in 1994 when another businessman sought to govern his country. His name was Silvio Berlusconi.
When I first came here as a freshman, I had two goals for my college experience: get good grades and join a fraternity. I chose Dartmouth because I wanted the exceptional undergraduate education it offered. Outside the classroom, though, I just wanted a place where I could relax, maybe drink some beer and hang out with friends.
In the Sept. 22 news article “Sustainability task force to meet this month,” Maanav Jalan ’19 advocates for the divestment of fossil fuel stocks owned by the College, while the task force chair, professor Andrew Friedland, says “getting Dartmouth to stop burning No. 6 fuel oil would have a much greater impact on CO2 emissions.” This, however, understates the importance of the issue of climate change – one of the greatest issue of our time, and one that we must face directly.
Upon coming to Dartmouth, I was excited for the glorious anarchy of college life. As a senior at a strict New England boarding school, I fantasized about college, where I could wear athletic leggings or jeans to class, spend Saturday mornings sleeping in, stay out past 10:45 p.m. and not have mandatory nightly study hall from 8 to 10 p.m. Although I begrudgingly understood that the 72 pages of rules detailed in my boarding school’s student handbook were meant to promote the academic, social and personal well-being and growth of all students, I felt like many of them were trivial or unnecessary. Thus, as I turned 18 during my senior year of high school, I was ready for college, where my “legal adult” status would be acknowledged and uninhibited by a handbook full of rules limiting everything I did.
This past spring term, I watched someone write an article for Ivy Beat titled “How to Take Notes in College — By a Dartmouth Sophomore” in front of me, in our Government 6 course. The second tip, “do not use a computer in class,” was probably chosen because computer users more easily succumb to distractions, mindlessly scribe the lectures word-for-word and are a detriment to their fellow students. I’m certain that at least one of your professors have hit you with the statistical studies that show how supposedly impossible it is to pay attention in class while your peer is messaging their mother — which, in the grand scheme of computer activities, is far from the worst you can do online in class.
High school seniors are entering an exciting times in their lives, one most of us have probably blocked from our memories — applying to colleges.
Election Day is fast approaching. Between the campaigns to register — you really should, it isn’t hard — and the endless speculation over every interruption, fact check and sniffle from Monday’s debate, it seems like the presidential race is all that is on anyone’s mind at the moment. In getting to this point, several people’s preferred candidates on either side have been knocked out of the race. Many progressive, generally younger Democrats bemoan the end of Bernie Sanders’ quixotic attempt at the presidency, and scores of moderate Republicans have expressed uneasiness over having Donald Trump — a man for whom “problematic” is an understatement — represent their party. Because of the numerous real or perceived flaws in both of the candidates, many of which have been reinforced through specific media coverage, the narrative for this election for many Americans has become about choosing between the lesser of two evils.
In his recent “Make Happy” tour, comedy prodigy Bo Burnham, whose inventive songs often provide commentary on social issues, took a moment to seriously address the audience. Burnham argued, with an impressive degree of awareness and charm, that we are all constantly performing. Social media, he asserted before transitioning back into the show, is the market’s solution to the underlying need we all feel to preform for an audience.
In Sept. 480 BC, Greek citizens took a stand for democracy. Under the leadership of Themistocles, an Athenian statesman and general, an armada of hundreds of Athenian warships and other pledged forces fought in the straits of Salamis, the narrow waters just south of Athens. That day, the Greeks saved Western civilization in one of the seminal battles of the Greco-Persian wars.