Polling our Editors
We poll our former editors on their time at the College.
We poll our former editors on their time at the College.
Some 20,000 years ago, the Laurentide Ice Sheet began to melt, gradually thawing and retreating, inching up and up and up, at some point shaping the very valley we inhabit. I won’t purport to understand this process better than my B+ in “Marine Geology” suggests.
A few weeks ago, in one of my few forays into the wilderness since my Hiking 1 trip freshman year, I spent the night with a group of friends at the Class of 1966 Lodge, also known as Harris Cabin. As we laughed through rounds of Taboo and “yum-yummed” the remainder of what must have been an industrial-sized block of Cabot cheese, the daylight receded, bringing with it the serene darkness and the distant, unknown living sounds characteristic of a forest at night.
There was a moment my freshman fall — standing on the snow-covered Green, wearing drenched sneakers and a crayon costume (yes, it snowed on Halloween) and surrounded by hundreds of my similarly elated classmates — when I declared in an uncharacteristic display of sappiness that I loved Dartmouth.
It is easy to lie about who you are, both to yourself and others. Most freshmen enter college with very few people who truly know them — and, of course, many barely know themselves.
During our time here, we watch as the strangers we are thrown together with in this remote place become our closest friends — and sometimes, as they become strangers again.
But when I sat down to write this column, I found myself thinking about places that have defined my time here. I first recalled a moment during my initial visit to campus. My dad and I were listening to our tour guide, and I remember imagining myself lounging on the Green, FoCo cookie in hand, after a morning in the biology class that my tour guide described.
Flashback to Wednesday, March 30, 2011 — college acceptance letter day for the Class of 2015 and the day I found out I was accepted to Dartmouth (contrary to popular belief, I did not apply early decision).
I have been so lucky and privileged to be the recipient of boundless support and love from my parents and brother, but I also think that I have managed “to do Dartmouth right” for me — which I think entailed taking the classes that excited me, joining the organizations that open my eyes to the world and befriending the people whom I care about to the ends of the earth.
8:41 p.m.: The exact time I received the blitz about writing this very column. I was in the middle of a weekly standing hangout (read: harbor) date with my freshman floormates.
“If Jesus came back and saw what’s going on in his name, he’d never stop throwing up.” — “Hannah and Her Sisters” (1986)
It’s time to pop this cherry! Your cherry? My cherry, everyone’s cherry.
The coming months herald great things for Mirror readers.
216 — The number of years since the founding of The Dartmouth
216 — The number of years since the founding of The Dartmouth
Frat dogs have long been the undisputed top dogs on campus, many sparking followings of their own, but there is another class of up-and-coming canine. This fall, Student Accessibility Services implemented a new support animal program, which now allows students to live with their support animals in campus dorms.
It’s 1976, and change is brewing in Hanover. A group of Dartmouth women feel that the College’s social scene does not fit their needs, so they contact the national sorority Sigma Kappa to discuss establishing a chapter on campus. That spring, the sorority’s first pledge class sees an immense turnout. Flash forward to 1988 and seven more national sororities have been established on campus. Still, some of them feel that the ideas and rituals of their national governing bodies do not match up with the social needs of women at Dartmouth. So what has happened when sororities decide to go local?
In May 1992, Thomas Cormen, vying for a position in the mathematics and computer science department, had a lot on his mind.
There is a saying in Korea that one will make their life long friendships in high school or before — never in college.
Enid: So sweet of you to invite us to grandparents weekend, Eliot. Our little Dartmouth kitten!