Confessions of a gallery attendant
You wonder about us every time you head to Hinman to pick up the basic life necessities you ordered off of Amazon because CVS is basically in a different country. You make uncomfortable eye contact with us while you’re fast-walking towards the tender queso wrap that you’ve been dreaming about since breakfast. You’re dying to know what our job actually consists of, who we are and whether or not we just saw you checking out your reflection in the glass. So today, in an unprecedented step, I will bridge the gap between the mysterious elite glass box-sitters and the general Dartmouth public: I am a Hopkins Center for the Arts gallery attendant and these are my confessions.









