MIR ROR
NOVEMBER 1, 2013
THE FIVE YEAR ITCH // 2
FOREVER HALLOWED // 4 YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT // 6
A PLACE TO CALL HOME // 3
AMAZED IN THE MAZE // 8
MARGARET ROWLAND // THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF
2// MIRROR
EDITOR’S NOTE
The first snow in Hanover is usually a letdown. Everyone, myself included, gets really excited at those first flurries, imagining winter wonderlands to come. For some of us, it’s the first time we’ve seen snow. But if my winters here are any indication — I’ve only had two, but we’ll assume they’re representative — the first snow never stays for long, usually washed away by the fall New England rain. It can be a little disappointing for winter lovers yearning for the seasonal transition. But have no fear, before long, it will be back in full force, and when April comes around and it’s still snowing, you’ll curse the days you ever wished for more. In this week’s issue, we talk to some students who have stuck around in Hanover for a bit longer than usual and explore another Upper Valley tradition. We set some ground rules for what is acceptable in various DDS locations, offer comparative research on the way our dorm life is structured and chart the Halloween legacy, because we love to embrace the holidays. As we begin to see light at the end of this tunnel we call terms, it’s easy to look ahead and only anticipate what’s to come. I’m definitely guilty of this — course selection is one of my favorite things. It can be helpful, however, to relish in the waning fall weather, friends who are about to depart to all corners of the world or classes that may actually be more interesting that their final projects make them seem. It certainly makes for a more enjoyable week seven. Happy Friday!
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MIR ROR MIRROR EDITORS AMELIA ACOSTA TYLER BRADFORD EDITOR-IN-CHIEF JENNY CHE PUBLISHER GARDINER KREGLOW EXECUTIVE EDITORS DIANA MING FELICIA SCHWARTZ
OVER HEARDS
THE FIVE YEAR ITCH
JACOB WEISS//THE DARTMOUTH
By JAKE BAYER The Thayer School of Engineering, located on the far end of campus near the much maligned River cluster, is out of sight and out of mind for many students who may only enter its halls for a TAS requirement. But its halls are home base for many recent graduates and students from liberal arts colleges who are taking advantage of the engineering opportunities the College offers, including the dual degree program and the fifth-year option. Dual degree, or “3-2,” students start at another liberal arts college and come to Dartmouth for either their junior or senior year. They then graduate from their home college but return to Dartmouth for a fifth and final year. Dartmouth students majoring in engineering also have the opportunity to stay for a fifth year and complete a second degree, in addition to a bachelor’s of engineering, which is required for most jobs in the field. “The dual degree program is with other liberal arts schools that we have agreements with,” undergraduate programs administrator Jenna Wheeler said. “They are only allowed 25 spots per year.” Fifth year and 3-2 students face a similar set of challenges integrating into the community. A rigorous academic schedule is necessary to complete both degrees, making coursework especially demanding and further complicating the balance between work and social life. “[3-2 students] are taking three courses per term,” Wheeler said. “Two are engineering and one is liberal arts.” Taking two engineering courses a term is a grueling task. While those in other
’14 Girl: I love having tails on my costumes. I love fondling my tail.
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“The Greek system has been a huge point of support that I can go back to no matter what,” Ordonez said. “I think it benefits a lot of engineers. They still have a place where there are some underclassmen they know.” Blissert said that different students adapt at different paces to the various quirks of life in Hanover. Some come from schools with a similar environment and are accustomed to a rural, Greek-dominated, competitive experience. For Blissert, Vassar and Dartmouth are worlds apart. “This is unlike anywhere else I imagine on earth,” Blissert said. The intensity of the programs make for a bonding experience in and of itself, which can help mediate the adjustment period that comes with these unconventional college experiences. Combined with structures within Thayer and the wider Dartmouth community, the engineering department becomes more than a series of classrooms. “It does feel, in general, different because your whole graduating class is gone,” Ordonez said. “A lot of people I have worked with closely are still here doing work with me. I would say that the fifth year is very engineering-intensive.” As one of hundreds of government majors on campus, one who rarely if ever ventures toward Thayer, I may never truly understand the kind of community and academic intensity that fifth-year and 3-2 students experience during their intensive terms. For those who experience it, Thayer has established a culture all its own that welcomes people in different stages and versions of the Dartmouth experience.
departments are able to spread their major courses over four year, the 3-2 students are limited to their two years at Dartmouth. “We are all pretty academically focused people because we have to be,” Artie Blissert ’15 said. “We are taking twice the engineering classes at least, so if you want to be a biomedical engineer, you have to do two engineering classes and organic chemistry.” Blissert, who comes to the program from Vassar College, said this intense schedule creates an ad-hoc social environment, with most students prioritizing academics. There are opportunities to bond with fellow engineering students, and the shared experience of challenging courses that often rely on group work is a powerful cohesive for the students from disparate locations. Thayer students participate in intramural teams and social groups organized around their interests, like a college student. “Inside of Thayer there is sort of a community that you have been taking classes with,” fifth-year Jose Ordonez ’13 said. “There are lots of IM teams and events inside of Thayer. There is this thing called Friday Night Beers that you can go to and hang out at. I am able to spend a lot more time inside of Thayer because there are a lot more of my friends still in there.” Many program participants come from campuses with a non-existent or marginal Greek system, and those interested in rushing often do so soon after arriving at Dartmouth, instead of having a full year to get a feel for the institution. But some, like Ordonez, often find it an important resource to remain connected to the undergraduate community.
’14 Boy: Do you think if I start listening to white noise at the beginning of this pong game, I’ll be ready for bed right after?
Government Prof: Hezbollah is a terrifically run organization. If it were a company, I’d say buy.
NAS Prof: This is a cold, not a hangover.
’17 Guy: I know how to lie. I mean, I’m preparing for a career in politics.
’14 Girl: Wasn’t the Harlem Globetrotters guy our Commencement speaker last year?
MIRROR //3
TRENDING @ Dartmouth DSTYLE SHADE Nothing is quite so satisfying as the subtle, nonverbal putdown.
BASEBALL
A PLACE TO CALL HOME
MARGARET ROWLAND//THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF
By MAGGIE SHIELDS Hanging in the entryway of North Fayerweather, a green and white board displays records, accumulated by its residents across multiple sports and years. It is evidence of a sense of community that once flourished amongst residence halls, rather than Greek houses. Proposals currently under review from the residential education director Michael Wooten would allow the Class of 2018 to live in housing clusters modeled off existing affinity housing but centered around STEM subjects, entrepreneurship and the arts. Though still several steps away from the residential college systems that characterize many of Dartmouth’s peer institutions, it is an admitted attempt to increase continuity in living experience across all four years. With a large Greek system and a enrollment pattern that sees students flipping back and forth between campus and off-terms every 10 weeks, campus housing is often a transient experience. Students rarely feel any special connection to places they live. In the early days, students and faculty all lived, studied and ate in Dartmouth Hall, the College’s only building at that point. As the school expanded, separate facilities were built. Beginning in the 1930s, several universities around the United States reorganized to a model of an all-in-one living and learning residential college system based on Oxford University and Cambridge University. Recently, institutions have attempted to use the residential college system as a way to counteract Greek life or other exclusive social activities. In 2007, Princeton University expanded its existing residential college system as alternatives to the exclusive eating clubs that many upperclassmen joined. However, because living in a residential college requires an eating plan, many students that join eating clubs move into separate upperclassman housing outside of the
residential college system, creating further division between those who chose to participate in the eating clubs and those who do not. Residential colleges, however, are an important aspect of social life at Princeton, offering gatherings, trips, lectures, performances and dining halls. Princeton junior Valentin Hernandez explained the role that the communities play in social interactions. “Social life, in terms of going out, was more focused around eating clubs,” he said. “However, you become close with people in residential colleges. It forms one facet of the social life. The eating clubs are a different aspect.” At Harvard University, students enter colleges as sophomores and live there for the next three years. While students used to have some say in which house they joined, the university now randomly assigns housing groups of up to seven people. Tanner Skenderian, a sophomore, explained that the diversity in the houses now reflects the student body of Harvard as a whole. “I find Harvard very diverse, and the houses reflect that,” she said. Harvard offers many of the same structured activities as other schools: faculty lectures, dining, movie nights, coffee houses, presentations and exhibitions. Skenderian added that houses have different common areas that are used to host parties. “Mather House has larger common spaces, so the capability to host a lot of more people,” she said. “It has a reputation of being a more party house. Currier has awesome senior housing so they have a lot of parties there.” Skenderian said that while finals clubs are a large presence, those not involved or not interested find plenty to do at night in houses. While finals clubs often host bigger parties, dorm parties are just as popular. Sk-
enderian found that while younger female students preferred the scene at finals clubs, many upperclassmen frequented houses or sorority spaces. So what about Dartmouth? Could a transition to a residential college system provide an alternative to the stronghold of the Greek system? Residential education at the College emphasizes building community in freshman housing clusters. UGAs host weekly floor meetings and events on the weekend. Gustavo Mercado ’16, a UGA in the Choates cluster, said these activities focus more on building community than providing alternatives to Greek life. The Hopkins Center, Collis After Dark and Programming Board also offer frequent activities on the weekends. UGAs refer students to these organizations rather than holding activities in the dorms. Mercado said spending time outside of the dorm community is important to expand circles of friends. “I don’t know if [the residential college system] would be the best idea,” he said. “Getting out there and meeting new people is important.” Mercado added that an optional residential college system could be beneficial to those looking for a community. Dartmouth has experimented with the residential college model in East Wheelock, which provides special programming including guest lectures, dinners and luncheons in addition to regular residential offerings. “East Wheelock was in its conception a version of a residential college,” Wooten said. “You can live there for four years, and there are a number of faculty associated with the program.” This programming has been relatively successful in building community. Sean Cann ’17 said that while he had only attended a couple of events in East Wheelock, the structure and
location of the cluster fostered community. “We have nice dorms with common rooms and singles,” Cann said. “Common rooms and study rooms offer a place to hang out and do something without going out.” Because of the D-Plan and the lack of available real estate, switching entirely to a residential college system seems difficult here. With the student population constantly fluctuating, difficulties may arise in keeping people in the same dorms for four years. Additionally, students prefer some dorm locations to others. No one on campus would appreciate being stuck in the River cluster for four years while peers got to live in New Hamp. The current model of upperclassman housing frustrates students, who complain that the sense of the community in dorms disintegrates almost completely after freshman year. Wooten said he hopes residential life will integrate more living and learning opportunities. “I want to invest in experience that is deepening community outside of formal academic setting,” he said. “It is important that you are not cliquing off the academic and intellectual experience here. Here you are expecting interfacing and interacting. That needs to be happening more in residential spaces.” With the current residential system, many students turn to other social outlets, primarily the Greek system. At schools like Harvard and Princeton, the residential college system adds a new social dynamic without harming existing communities. If implemented right, both Greek and non-Greek students at the College may have a more dynamic social life with multiple outlets with residential colleges. A popular complaint of Dartmouth’s social scene is its monotony, and residential colleges could be part of the solution.
The Boston Red Sox came in strong with a Wednesday night victory against the St. Louis Cardinals. We get treated to Boston-themed profile-pic changes and more baseball hats than usual.
HALLOWEEK
When Halloween falls on a Thursday, there’s no reason not to celebrate for a full week on either end. From childhood favorites like pumpkin carving to a more adult Liq’r’treat option, the possibilities are endless for many nights of mischief, costumes and black cats.
WEATHER MUPLOADS Every year around this time, without fail, there will be at least a dozen screenshots of weather forecasts uploaded to Facebook with some comment about the plunging temperatures.
GOURDS
Who says pumpkins get to have all the fun? The most unnappreciated option in the Thanksgiving cornucopia makes a bid for the spotlight.
SENIOR PICTURES
4// MIRROR
FOREVER HALLOWED By MARY LIZA HARTONG and MADDIE BROWN
There was a time when dressing up as a rabbit was the highlight of your year. You heard the final click of the sewing machine, put down your Pokemon cards, took your eyes off of PBS Kids and stared in awe at the fluffy white suit in your mother’s hands. You wore it for weeks in anticipation. You begged to wear it to school and were denied. When the big night finally came you cringed as your mother pinned your white tail to your fluffy rump, fearing it might poke into your real skin. Once your three whiskers, drawn with mom’s best eyeliner, were finished and your pink lipstick nose was applied, you
were ready to hop down the bunny trail. Your sister, mummified with toilet paper, stood next to you for the picture. She then took your small hand in hers and led you to the first house because she’d done this before. As you toddled to keep up with her, your pumpkin-shaped candy bucket bobbed against your leg like a merry ghost. From the porch your mother watched you go, waving but not worrying. She knew you’d come back eventually. One of my first memories was from Halloween. My mom had dressed me up as a cow, and she brought me to a magic show at
a neighbor’s house. I remember how surprised I was that her friend pulled a real bunny out of a hat. It was just so cool. While everyone has different Halloween experiences, many Dartmouth students recall dressing up for Halloween throughout their childhood. Tierra Lynch ’16 remembers going trick-or-treating with her family every year. “I would put on my princess costume — which I wore six years in a row — and I would go trick-ortreating with my little sister around the plaza because there weren’t many houses where I live,” Lynch
said. David Cook ’16 also recalls being a serial costume wearer. “I was a vampire four years in a row, and then my mom made me choose something else finally,” he said. Although you may wear the same costume year after year, every Halloween is different. It starts off as a family holiday: your parents pick out your costume, and you share your candy with your siblings. Then comes the year your sister won’t go with you anymore. She was either too cool, or her friends were having a party with boys. Whatever the
MIRROR //5
plan, it didn’t involve you. She didn’t even help you cut the holes in your ghost costume. Your mom still watched you head out, but she spent the evening watching Halloween specials on TV instead of keeping the porch scarecrow company and waiting for you. By the time high school rolled around, you wondered if you were supposed to go as something fun or something, well, fun. Some of your friends were funky chickens, and some were hot chicks. You opted for something in the middle, a sexy Holden Caulfield, which nobody understood. The height difference between you and the other trick-or-treaters started to become a problem. You realized you could buy candy with your own money, but you never did. Instead of binging on sweets, you binged on secrets, spin the bottle and being seventeen. Cook noticed this change in Halloween celebrations when he entered high school. “It started to become a thing, where you would have boy-girl costume parties instead of trick-or-treating,” Cook said. Some people find that their age makes it difficult to trick-or-treat. When Beau Gibson ’16 tried to trick-or-treat with some friends his senior year
of high school, he was turned away by many houses, for being too old. Lynch, however, continued until she came to college. “I stopped trick-or-treating when I came to Dartmouth, because I would always go with my little sister,” she said. “I was a ninja one year, I was once Howl from ‘Howls Moving Castle,’ and one time my friend and I were Pikachu. I would always pick weird things.” Coming to Dartmouth definitely changed the way that many people celebrate Halloween. The houses you approached contained things tastier than candy, scarier than vampires, stronger than Frankenstein and far more likely to worry your mother. Maybe you threw Holden Caulfield out the window and dressed as a sexy sailor or a sexy policewoman. Or maybe you tried to think of something clever. Unlike in the olden days, your costume did not become an integral part of your school wardrobe for the next few months. It stayed under your bed for future parties, where such flair would be appreciated. There were plenty of other more memorable nights, and Halloween was brushed off until next year. Perhaps coming to Dartmouth was that moment when your family decided it was okay for you to go out alone and come home with new, unusual things, when they stopped sitting on the porch and started going to their own parties. Although you may celebrate in a different manner, and you no longer have your parents to plan your night, many students keep up with old
traditions. Coming to college has not stopped me from eating unhealthy amounts of candy corn and decorating my room with pumpkins and stickers. “I still celebrate. I didn’t dress up last year. I will probably dress up this year. It’s more like an event now, but less centered on candy,” Gibson said. With no one here to pin on our tails and draw our whiskers, we have the power to choose whether we are monsters or mice. At college, nobody yanks
into trouble, all we really want is to go back to the Halloween we once knew. Like Alice in Wonderland, we’ve kept the same clothes but grown too big for them. We reach out for our sister’s hand and, finding it gone, we reach for whatever will make us feel safe again.
things from our hands when we’ve had so many we’re sure to be sick. Though we may get PHOTOS BY MARGARET ROWLAND // THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF KATHY RAO // THE DARTMOUTH
6// MIRROR
YOU ARE WHERE YOU EAT
GAVIN HAUNG//THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF
By MADDIE BROWN AND NATALIE VAN BRUNT You would never use your backpack as a battering ram to get to the front of the line at KAF, or would you? While it might be okay to be a little more aggressive at FoCo, there are several unwritten rules to dining etiquette at Dartmouth. After a year of observation, we have taken on the task of defining these unwritten rules to help out those of us who just don’t catch on to social cues. The Class of 1953 Commons Walking around: Whether you are creeping on that cutie at Ma Thayer’s or getting more chicken nuggets, walking around the food section is one of the easiest ways to get in your facetime. Walking around is perfectly harmless, but don’t forget about the people you are actually eating with. If you are with a large group, it is okay to take a little bit too much time at the salad bar. If you are with just one other person, don’t leave them alone at the table for too long. Seat-saving: Primetime seat finding can be difficult, so it is necessary to claim your territory. While a phone or an ID is usually enough to secure a spot, leaving things like single sheets of paper or napkins is not. Furthermore, don’t be obnoxious about saving seats for your closest 20 friends. Panini Press: If you decide to make a sandwich during lunch, wait patiently in line for the panini press. Nothing is worse than an aggressive panini line cutter. Also, be respectful to your fellow sandwich makers. If you have a monster sandwich, don’t put it next to a quesadilla. If there is room in the panini press for another sandwich, tell the person behind you. Watermelon: If there is watermelon in the fruit line, it is perfectly fine to form a separate line that just goes to the watermelon. Everyone needs to get his melon! Wait appropriately. Large spills/cleaning: When you put your dishes away, separate your
silverware from your plates, bowls and mugs. It’s easy to do and is really helpful. In the case that you spill all of your food somewhere, tell a DDS worker and stay with your mess. I know it’s a little awkward. Blackboard: Have actual suggestions! Things like “NARP JAY” or “are you even trying?” are not helpful. While you might think of something really witty, try to suggest actual foods. If you can accomplish both of these at the same time, you are a god. Collis Cafe Attitude: In Collis, you never have to worry about anything because we spent a whole term renovating to solve all our problems and make everything a breeze. Wait, no, we spent a whole term waiting to get sneeze guards and ice cream. The best way to navigate Collis is to put on a smile and expect that you will not emerge unscathed. Backpacks: The most important and widely known rule is to drop your backpack. I’m fairly certain this is written somewhere in our honor code. And while it may be tempting to leave your puffy winter coat on as a bumper shield, take that off too. The extra few inches of space are life-changing in a long pasta line. Timing: If you are dining at peak hours, develop a strategy. If your friend wants stir-fry, and you just want salad, wait until she reaches the front of the line, or else you’ll be eating lettuce alone. On the off chance that you find yourself there while it’s quiet and empty, dance around the salad bar and do whatever you please because that is a truly special moment that deserves to be celebrated. Loitering: While you wait, however, do not wander. Every movement in Collis must be strategically thoughtout. Know what you want, figure out the most direct path and make a beeline for it. Judgment: From a humane stand-
point, do not treat Collis as a spectator sport. Yes, it may be tempting to gawk when you hear an order for a dozen eggs over easy, or see someone put an entire head of kale into a smoothie, but this is a safe haven from judgment. You’ll want the same respect as you bite into your 20th mozz stick. Novack Cafe Ordering: It’s a dog-eat-dog world when ordering food at Novack. If you come to Novack during a busy time, know exactly what you want, have your card out and know when it is your turn to order. If not, you will have a loud “WHO’S NEXT?” screamed at your face. When this happens, don’t stare at the lady like a deer in the headlights, like I usually do. Be assertive and order exactly what you want. Eating in: There are no major etiquette rules when eating in Novack. Be as loud or as quiet as you want. While many people are at Novack to study, it is understood that you do not have to be quiet. This is not the 1902 Room. Also, it is fine for one person to claim an entire table. Spread out and get comfy, no one is judging. The Hop Line-cutting: This is the time to practice that “golden rule” you learned in elementary school. When you feel tempted to skip to the front, remember that time that you waited patiently for 20 minutes, delirious with hunger and dreaming of onion rings, only to have an entire sports team cut in front of you at the last minute. If you absolutely must wait with your friends, try to adhere to the “don’t get in line until your whole party is present” rule. Off-menu requests: If you know what you’re doing, do it. If you think you know what you’re doing, be bold and don’t chicken out. If you don’t know what you’re doing, stick to the
script. Strawberries: When they have them, know that you are essentially paying a dollar per mid-sized berry. Proceed to buy them anyway. Napkins: You should absolutely grab several before sitting down, and you should expect them to be translucent with grease by the time you finish. This is perfectly acceptable — don’t panic. King Arthur Flour Lingo: KAF is the place that made me understand the logic behind Starbucks’s size system, because I have never been more confused than when placing an order for a “small medium” coffee. That being said, know that the people behind the counter will probably understand you no matter what
you say, so don’t waste too much time trying to perfect their lingo. Sandwiches: Although you should not waste time ordering when there’s a long line, no one will blame you for taking a few seconds to whine about not being able to get a sandwich anymore. In fact, this is obligatory. Always whine about not being able to get a sandwich. Diet: If you choose to dine in KAF or any of the close locations within the library, know that the rules about what you eat are very different from what you learned growing up. A full baguette is a perfectly acceptable snack, and there is no shame in taking a fork straight to a chocolate indulgence cake. However, take a loud bite of your apple and be prepared for daggers.
NUSHY GOLRIZ//THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
Like American Girl Dolls, Dartmouth’s dining halls each have their own character. With that character comes rules. Don’t break them.
MIRROR //7
COLUMN
WHAT HAVE WE DONE? IN CASE By SEANIE CIVALE and AMANDA SMITH YOU WERE WONDERING
COLUMN
By
KATIE SINCLAIR
Three falls ago, upon leaving Dartmouth for our first winter break, Amanda blitzed Seanie with the subject line “Spotted.” “Kid in Harvard sweatshirt at the Boston airport,” it read. “Me in my Dartmouth sweatshirt feeling competitive and sad... the Dartmouth bubble has officially been left behind.” This is a term so cliche that we will now hit ourselves for writing about it. And yet we will write about it anyway, because we cannot stay away. We love talking about the Dartmouth bubble almost as much as we love talking about terms. Maybe it’s because we’ve never known anything in this life to be so comforting and yet so sinister. It’s like a two-faced jerk that makes you feel like you live on a weird cloud when really you are surrounded by lava. We do not know if this image makes sense, but we stand by it. The first evidence of the bubble’s awful nature came soon after the “Spotted” blitz, in another blitz from Amanda that read: “Fell out of bed, because I got used to jumping down since my bed is so nice and high at school. Miss you!” This anecdote seems innocent, but it is not. It was our first documentation of our bubble-induced ways causing us harm outside. It was a foreshadowing of the horrors to come. This week, we both traveled off campus for different reasons, neither of which involved getting a job inter view, and the two-faced jerk struck again. Amanda: I had been away from Dartmouth for three hours — the time it takes to ride the bus from Hanover to terminal B1 at Boston Logan — when I realized that I had once again forgotten how to be away from Dartmouth. I think I was still asleep when I dragged my feet over to the Starbucks in the airport. I already knew what I would order, the exact same thing I get ever y morning. I had my Dartmouth ID in hand to prepare for another perfectly normal, completely unremarkable KAF-like transaction. Perhaps I should have given it a little bit more thought because it was not a KAF-like transaction. I asked for my coffee with skim. The barista raised her eyebrows and pointed to the milk on the counter behind me to show that milk was a DIY thing at Starbucks. Fine. She listed off the price, and I gave her my ID. There was a moment of the two of us swapping blank faces before I realized that Starbucks does not accept DBA nor do they have any idea what DBA is. Also, a small drink (inexplicably called “tall” at
Starbucks) is basically the same price as a Dartmouth meal swipe. I knew this. I know this. And I was reminded of this yet again. I assumed mistakes like these would stop happening three years after my first departure from the bubble. But they are only getting worse and more frequent. Seanie: This week, I borrowed Amanda’s car to make the three and a half hour drive to visit my little brother at college. I was about an hour into the drive when I hit the toll booth. I saw it looming in the distance, and I knew my doom. By the time I got to the window, I had slowed to a negligible speed in order to scavenge Amanda’s car for stray coins. I found many interesting things, including Nutella, but literally zero stray coins. I cursed Amanda for not predicting this and pulled up to the window. I only really have experience on Los Angeles freeways, which are called freeways because they are free, so I honestly had no idea how this situation would be handled. “What do you do if you do not have any money?” I asked the man at the window. “You don’t have 75 cents?” He took pity and asked for license and registration, only raising his eyebrows slightly upon seeing that my license is extremely expired. I got one of those slips that says you have to pay the toll within five days and continued on. Soon I hit another toll. I searched the car again, knowing nothing would be different. There was more traffic here, and several people in cars behind me let their annoyance be known by dangerously reversing out of my lane to switch to another one. I made no eye contact and collected another slip. At the next toll, I had managed to find a nickel, the coin that is useful for nothing, and held it up as a sort of offering. I received another slip. I briefly thought that it might be a cool thing to get one of these from ever y state, but only briefly. By the time I arrived at my brother’s college, I was $5.75 in debt and my ner ves were fried. Not carr ying cash with you, a fine thing to do at Dartmouth, is actually a stupid and dangerous habit that will not get you far. We love Hanover. But if you pull a place around you this tightly, it’s disorienting when you have to let go. Again, we have no answers. But we will now be the bigger people and congratulate the Dartmouth bubble for its 482nd mention in the newspaper. That is more mentions than both “Phil Hanlon” and the word “problematic.” Yours in the lava, Lucy & Ethel
In case you were wondering, in 2004, British explorer Ben Saunders became the youngest and possibly last person to solo ski to the North Pole. This piece of knowledge is inspiring, crazy and somewhat sad. Traversing 204 kilometers of frozen wasteland on skis by yourself seems incredibly brave and lonely. The sad part is that Saunders’ expedition may be the last overland adventure to the North Pole because the rapidly decreasing sea ice will soon make such a feat impossible. People sometimes wonder where my weird anecdotes and facts come from. Answer: from the Internet, from books and a not insignificant number from class, because if you actually pay attention sometimes you’ll learn things. But this one came from an NPR podcast. One of the things that I like to do, because I am lame, is go to the gym and ride the bike to nowhere while listening to the NPR TED Talk Radio Hour. To further illustrate how lame I am, the first time I set foot in the upstairs part of the gym was the first week of senior fall. The theme of last week’s podcast was “To the Edge” and featured Saunders, a spelunker and a lady who rowed across the Pacific, Atlantic and Indian Oceans by herself in a 23-foot boat. The great thing about reaching the legal drinking age is that you can hang out in your PJs on your friend’s futon, drinking your ver y own hard-earned $10 wine and watching Disney movies on Netflix instead of talking to people you don’t know in a grimy basement. We were watching “Treasure Planet” (2002), and I said something along the lines of, “Ever ything has been discovered already.” For those who don’t know, “Treasure Planet” is like “Treasure Island” but set in outer space and is a way better movie than it ought to be. I was sad because, (I’m sure the cheap wine didn’t help) nowadays, you can’t just hop on a pirate ship and go explore a whole new part of the world. If someone were to ask me what my goals were in high school, I would have said “to be cool.” And I didn’t mean cool as in “cool,” but cool as in interesting and different, cool as in being the kind of person that people look at and say, “Man, I wish I could do something as adventurous/ crazy/impossible as that.” But now that I am not in high school, I have lowered my expectations. I no longer strive to be “cool.” I strive for the bare minimum. I strive to be “not boring.” Because, my friends, we are soon coming to that awful grim part
of the year, where my thesis proposal is due, and finals are fast approaching, and the leaves are gone, and there’s no sun and I have to break out my ugly Northface parka even though it is only November and still technically fall. I am terribly frightened that most of the rest of the world is, in fact, terribly boring. And I hate being bored. Dar tmouth is great and awesome, but it can be distinctly lacking in a sense of adventure. There are epic feats you can accomplish, if you put your mind to it. There’s the Dartmouth Seven, the Ledyard Challenge, the Lou’s Challenge, a circuit, the Blue Light Challenge, the Polar Bear Swim, the Fifty, touching the fire and streaking a final. I often wonder what it says about Dartmouth that so many of these “challenges” involve nudity. Also, several seem particularly unpleasant or life threatening: see the Fifty, the Polar Bear Swim and touching the fire. But I believe that all of these challenges have been accomplished before, by multiple people. One could always be the first to complete all of these epic feats, but I’m not sure if completing several acts of public nudity counts for the same as solo skiing to the North Pole. Perhaps my grand adventure at Dartmouth will be to change my definition of grand adventure. Because, in all honesty, skiing to the North Pole seems really cold. Winters at Dartmouth are chilly enough. I’ve also heard that there’s actually not all that much to see up in the Arctic. Caves also seem dark and cramped. I’m from Southern California, where rowing is not really a thing, so crossing an ocean (or, say, a small sea or large lake) is not for me. Also, from what these ver y adventurous people said, they spent a good deal of time on their great expeditions being exhausted and bored. Perhaps skiing to the North Pole is not all that different from spending approximately a gazillion hours in bio lab tr ying to identify bacteria. Perhaps true adventurers are people who do things not because they feel they should be done, or because they want to brag about having done them. True adventurers are people who are willing to be bored and suffer hardship to get what they want. So, Dartmouth, bring on the papers and the midterms and the impossible requirements for Bio 46 lab. Maybe when the sun comes back and it’s senior spring, there could even be some acts of public nudity.
8 // MIRROR
PROFILE
AMAZED IN THE MAIZE
MARY LIZA HARTONG// THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
The Great Vermont Corn Maze is one of multiple maize-themed attractions in the Upper Valley available for students who wish to get lost off campus. By MARY LIZA HARTONG and LINDSAY KEARE We got off to a rocky start. Before even getting to our destination, the gas light was on, our phones had no ser vice and we’d pulled several u-turns. Returning to Hanover without leaving the car crossed our minds. But, just as our last bit of positive energy almost dissipated, we stumbled upon the Great Vermont Corn Maze. We arrived just in time, and it was well worth the journey. We set out in the wee hours of the morning, 9:30 a.m. After a few games of I Spy (roadkill version) and many a retort about our mutual mourning of the loss of sandwiches at King Arthur Flour, we cruised off the highway and onto the back roads of Vermont, also known as the pre-maze. Profanities flowed from our mouths like pumpkin vines as we attempted to coax a simple “turn left” or “turn right” out of the GPS. Finally, when all seemed lost, our British navigator perked up her metaphorical head and directed us toward the maze. Never had anyone been so excited to see corn. While the maze we completed was halfway to Canada, other Dartmouth students recently headed west to attempt the Hathway Farms maze in Rutland. Each year, the maze has a different theme, and this year it was Gettysburg. The maze asked Civil War questions at many intersections to point students in the right direction.
“That was interesting to add some historical twist to it,” Veronica Burt ’16 said, though she acknowledged that the questions were obscure and that her group googled most of them. Our maze turned out to be alien-themed, and awaiting us at the entrance was the owner, an energetic if slightly exasperated middle-aged man. The first thing he wanted to know was whether we were teenagers. Now normally that sounds creepy coming from a man his age, but before we could slowly inch away from him he launched into an impassioned spiel on the topic of teenagers in the maze. As it states on the maze’s website, in all caps no less, 90 percent of teenagers abandon the maze within the first 20 minutes. Go ahead, he warned us, pay your $15, see what happens. I wanted to point out that, as some of us were 20 years old, we were obviously capable of enduring the maturity-testing perils within the maze. We had, after all, seen the fourth Harr y Potter movie. If scrawny, bespectacled Harr y could get out of a maze, so could we. Also, where was the data to back up his claims? He had no stopwatch and no control group, so how was this statistic to be believed? These questions and others remained unanswered, though we did learn that the quickest anyone had ever solved the maze was in 53 minutes. As Barney Stinson would
say, challenge accepted. Fresh off a caffeine high, we entered the maze alongside a gaggle of children. Being the worldly Dartmouth students we are, we made it our mission to beat their butts and complete the maze first. Four paths stood ahead of us: eeny, meeny, miney and moe. We opted for meeny. We opted wrong. What seemed like a few hundred miles into the maze we realized we might be going in circles and might be far from the “bell of success” that signaled a successful finish. Then we heard it, the loud clear ring of the bell of… frustration. Yes, there was a decoy bell, one we ran toward with great fer vor. It was at this point we decided no more Mr. Nice Scarecrow. We began cheating, or as we liked to call it, “bushwhacking,” through corn to get to paths that looked more promising. We even turned on the app “Map My Run” to ensure that we would not retrace our steps. We were desperate women and weren’t apologizing for it. The view from a small bridge proved to us that not only did the maze contain oddities such as half sunk fishing boats and space ships, but that it was much bigger than we had anticipated. Still we journeyed on, up the hill, through a few circles, when what to our wondering eyes should appear but the bell of success. We took turns ringing the glorious thing, lauding our victor y over the
munchkins. Those at Hathway Farms found success too, finishing the maze and (occasionally) resisting the temptation to bushwhack through the thinning corn. “Since it’s so late in the season, some of the corn [was] dying and we could see through so it made it easier,” Reza Djavid ’16 said. Back at the Great Vermont Corn Maze, we stood atop the hill admiring the scener y, noting how perfect the spot would be for a marriage proposal if it weren’t for the frustration of the maze below. Red and gold trees saluted us as we descended to the petting zoo and then the front desk. “We made it out in just an hour!” we bragged to the owner. He seriously doubted it and had us trace our route on the map of the maze. Turns out, the goal of the maze had not been to find the bell of success but to traverse ever y quadrant of the maze on a specific route. Had we neglected to listen to Miley? Had we forgotten that “it ain’t about how fast I get there/ it ain’t about what’s waiting on the other side”? Had we really forgotten that it’s all about the climb? Yes, yes we had. For us it was all about the bell of success. But more realistically, one of us had a class to get back to. The Great Vermont Corn Maze is officially closed for the season and won’t reopen until next August, leaving
us plenty of time to reflect on its implications great and small. Next year we’ll bring a lunch, as the owner suggested, and do it right. Regardless of what corn maze you visit, any student who goes to one will undoubtedly agree that visiting a corn maze is the perfect fall activity. “The drive was gorgeous,” Michael Perlstein ’14 said. “Not being on campus is really fun. You can escape for a while.” Bur t echoed this sentiment and added that, being from Los Angeles, doing a corn maze was a new activity for her. ““Where I’m from fall doesn’t have all these celebrations and festivities associated with it,” she said. And perhaps best of all, corn mazes are a great time to get closer with friends outside of Dartmouth. You may want to kill them once you get lost, but eventually it will only make your connection stronger. “The best part was the bonding experience, when you’re walking and there aren’t any clues,” Burt said. Whether you do it for the glor y, the fresh air or simply to get off campus, corn mazes are a fantastic way to experience New England in the fall. Cheat or don’t cheat; go all day or just for a few hours; spend time with one friend or 20. It might sound corny, but it’s all good.