The Dartmouth 09/30/2022

‘A hero’: Richard Ellison MHCDS ’23 remembered for his service, generosity

College, community organize events to grieve student deaths

BY CHARLOTTE HAMPTON The Dartmouth

The College held a community gathering on Baker-Berry lawn on Friday afternoon for students to “grieve in recognition of recent losses and community pain,” according to an email from interim Dean of the College Scott Brown. This event was one of several organized by various members of the Dartmouth com munity following the deaths of Sam Gawel ’23, Joshua Watson ’22, Alex Simpson ’22 and David Gallagher ’20.

Hundreds of students attended the event, according to an announcement from the College.

Hanlon, Brown, College chaplain Nancy Vogele ’85, Dartmouth Stu dent Government president David Millman ’23 and vice president Jessica Chiriboga ’24 spoke at the event.

once,” Stahle said.

On Thursday, Sept. 22, along with Chabad at Dartmouth, Dartmouth Hillel hosted approximately 75 peo ple at the Roth Center to reflect and meditate, according to Linfield.

The brothers of Chi Gam also gathered together on the nights of Sept. 22 and 23 to grieve, exchange stories and pictures and sing Gawel’s favorite songs, according to Chi Gam brother Marc Novicoff ’23. The brothers sat around bonfires, which drew students from around the Col lege who knew Gawel, Novicoff said. Houses along Webster Avenue heard the singing, and Novicoff described the house as “overflowing” with stu dents drawn to Chi Gam’s lawn.

Welch said that he was “blessed” to know Gawel.

BY SHENA HAN The Dartmouth Staff

This article was originally published on Sept. 27, 2022.

Those who knew Richard Ellison remember him as a profoundly generous person who spent his life engaged in military and medical service, leaving an enduring impact on those close to him through his warmth and kindness.

Ellison, a member of the Class of 2023 in the Master of Health Care Delivery Science program at Dartmouth, died in Hanover on Aug. 18 at the age of 57. He likely died of a heart attack, according to his wife Kristi Ellison. Ellison is survived by his wife, three sons and two grandchildren.

Ellison served as a general surgeon for 23 years in the U.S. Army. During that time, he was deployed three times to Afghanistan and three times to Iraq. He retired at the rank of Colonel with numerous service awards, including the Legion of Merit and

Purple Heart, after surviving the explosion of a roadside bomb in Afghanistan that left him with chronic head pain and hearing damage, according to Kristi Ellison.

“It truly was a life of service,” Kristi Ellison said of her late husband. “Service to his country, service to his patients.”

Nevertheless, Ellison went on to pursue a fulflling career as a traveling physician, moving with his family to small hospitals around the country to provide surgical operations for members of rural communities. Kristi Ellison said that his “happy place” was the operating room.

As Ellison’s injuries from Afghanistan made it increasingly difcult for him to work as a clinical surgeon, he began to look for other opportunities and found Dartmouth’s Master of Health Care Delivery Science degree, a 12-month joint program between the Tuck School of Business and Geisel School of Medicine intended to provide mid-career healthcare leaders with the skills to improve health care delivery.

Ever public-minded, Ellison sought to apply the insights he had gained from working in healthcare to help fx the

system as a whole, Kristi Ellison said. She added that his goal was to work for the U.S. Department of Veterans Afairs after graduation “to try and tackle some of the issues for veterans and the broken parts of the VA healthcare system.”

“He felt very strongly that the mission of the military was a mission of public service, and his aspiration was to be able to continue that work but in the civilian realm,” MHCDS program director Katy Milligan said.

The MHCDS program is held virtually, with two in-person sessions at the beginning and end of each 12-month period, according to Milligan. Ellison, who lived in Luxemburg, Wisconsin, was on campus for the second and fnal residential session when he died.

As a student, Ellison was generous and well-liked by faculty and fellow students alike, according to faculty co-director of the MHCDS program Rob Shumsky.

“He was always helping other students, sharing his experiences as a surgeon with the other students,” Shumsky said.“And he also brought this kind of military culture

for students

BY THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF

This article was originally published on Sept. 29, 2022.

Following advocacy by Dartmouth Student Government and the Mental Health Union, the College announced on Thursday that around-the-clock teletherapy services will be available to students for free through the provider Uwill starting Nov. 1.

“We’ve been paying attention to what students want, and we know that fexibility in how they access mental health services is key — a system that is easy to use and gives them the care they need when they need it,” Dartmouth Health Service director Mark Reed said in the announcement.

The announcement arrives in the wake of tragedy, as campus mourns the loss of seven community members within the last two months. According to the announcement, Uwill ofers mental health counseling services via phone, video and chat, and students can

access the platform on smartphones, tablets or computers.

Uwill will “[fll] the gaps in currently available counseling services” by pro viding 24/7 crisis services and longterm counseling options at no charge to students, Student Government vice president Jessica Chiriboga ’24 said.

The announcement added that the Uwill system allows students to “select from a diverse pool of therapists ac cording to gender, language, ethnicity, and clinical need.”

Additionally, according to Reed, the new teletherapy service will be available to students both on and of campus — including students on medical leave, leaves of absence or of-terms — as long as they have an active Dartmouth email address and are located in the United States during the counseling session.

In addition to the Uwill partner ship, the College has brought on more on-campus counselors and provided access to the Headspace app for mindfulness and meditation to support campus mental health.

“Like almost everyone, myself and my colleagues in senior leadership were distraught and grief stricken by the news of the deaths of our students,” Brown wrote in a state ment to The Dartmouth. “We knew that we needed to come together as a community as soon as possible and just be together and grieve together.”

Also on Friday, Gawel’s family held a memorial at the Dartmouth Outing Club House at Occom Pond. Carter Welch ’23, who described Gawel as one of his best friends, attended the memorial.

“The way in which [the memorial] was done was just very honest and open and transparent,” Welch said. “It was important that the community knew that it wasn’t anyone’s fault. You can’t hide behind shadows, you can’t hide behind trite slogans … I deeply cherish his family for opening Sam’s world and Sam’s mind to everyone else.”

The memorial service was offi ciated by the Gawel family’s Rabbi Ilene Harkavy Haigh, the spiritual leader of Congregation Shir Shalom in Woodstock, Vermont.

Dartmouth Hillel Rabbi Seth Linfield said the service was held in person, but attendees also participat ed via Zoom. He added that about 250 people attended in person and more than 300 were present online.

In addition to Haigh, Gawel’s mother Leah Gawel, his sister Sophia Gawel ’22 and his father Randy Gawel also spoke, according to Linfield.

Niklas Stahle ’23, who is a member of Chi Gamma Epsilon fraternity with Gawel, described Leah Gawel’s speech as courageous.

“She was mothering everyone from the podium. Her voice didn’t crack

“Sam really was the best of all of us,” Welch said. “That soul gave more love and took in more pain than I think is humanly imaginable for any soul. I think that’s what gives me some relief from the grief, is knowing that I was blessed to know him.”

On Tuesday, the Dartmouth Senior Leadership group — which includes campus administration such as Han lon, Kotz and Brown — announced a “Day of Caring” on Friday, Oct. 21 in an email to the Dartmouth community. According to the email, the day will feature programming and activities “designed to create space to process the grief of our community losses, time for reflection, and an opportunity to prioritize our mental health and well-being.”

The College also extended the deadline for declaring a non-record ing option — in which students can set a benchmark to exclude a grade from their transcript — two weeks later to Oct. 10, according to an email sent by Provost David Kotz and Dean of the Faculty Elizabeth Smith on Friday, Oct. 23.

Some students are split on the College’s response to the student deaths.

Lance Sunga ’26 said that the “Day of Caring” is “one of the smartest things the College has done.”

“It’s a way of giving students a chance to relax from the 10 week term,” Sunga said. “I think the NRO extension is also a great push.”

Henry Moore ’26 expressed more trepidation.

“I think a day of no classes isn’t doing too much in the long term because professors still need to get through the syllabus,” he said. “The only way to genuinely alleviate aca demic stress is to lessen the workload, which isn’t being done by the NRO extension or a day of no classes.”

PHOTO

Custodial staff faces labor shortages

BY PARKER O’HARA The Dartmouth

For the past year, both Residential Operations — which services residence halls — and Facilities Operations and Management — which services all other campus buildings — have strug gled to staff custodial jobs, according to associate vice president of facilities operations and management Frank Roberts.

Roberts said there were only two vacancies out of 47 positions within Residential Operations. However, he said the vacancy rate in Facilities Operations and Management is much higher, at around 15 to 20% out of approximately 130 positions. In ad dition to the custodial positions, there are vacancies in supervisory positions, which Roberts said impacts the Col lege’s ability to coordinate work across campus.

The vacancies reflect a larger trend of labor shortages in the Upper Val ley and have put additional pressure on current custodians, according to Roberts.

“With low unemployment in the area, where the overall number of potential employees is lower than in a more urban setting — and with com petition from many employers — this has [affected] us as well as others,” Roberts said. “Other impacts would include available affordable housing and to a certain extent the availability of public transportation.”

The custodial shortages have ne cessitated a shift in services, Roberts explained.

“For example, we have reduced office cleaning in locations by request only. Another example would be early last summer, near Commencement when we could not support all of the events desired, and we said no to de partments requesting services, which is the first time I can remember needing to do that in the past decade,” Roberts said. “Overall services have not been consistent.”

Marilyn Martin, a custodian who has been at Dartmouth since 2013, said that changes due to COVID-19 pushed many employees to leave. In July 2021, scheduling changes due to the pandemic — such as increased night shifts — meant that custodial employ

ees were forced to “rebid” for their jobs and take less desirable shifts. The rebidding process was implemented in combination with the local chapter of the Service Employees International Union — the union that includes custodial and dining employees at Dartmouth — and redistributed shifts by giving preference based on employee seniority, leaving a higher proportion of custodians with night shifts.

According to Martin, this meant that employees on the Facilities side who had typically worked a Monday through Friday day job were pushed into later night shifts, which often included at least one weekend shift.

“Many people were unhappy. There was a mass exit,” Martin said. “I mean, who wants to work all night? You’ve been here for 20 years. You’ve worked your way from a less desirable position to [the earliest] first shift. You’ve been loyal. You’re dedicated, you’re hard working. You’re tired, you’re stressed.”

In addition to the reshuffling of shifts, Martin said that employees are discontent with the lack of change in pay rates. Currently, base pay for custodians is around $21 an hour, according to Martin.

“Dartmouth used to be the only game in town,” Martin said. “We got paid on the average 8% to 10% above what anybody around was paying for this kind of work. Now I can go to McDonald’s and make $18 an hour.”

According to Roberts, the sched uling changes included in the July 2021 rebid were in anticipation of higher occupancy levels on campus and evolving COVID-19 protocol that necessitated higher standards for custodial operations.

“In the fall of 2021, with all the un dergraduates coming back to campus and less [COVID-19 restrictions]... we needed to adjust the custodians’ hours for when they provide service,” Roberts said. “We needed to adjust hours to when they could clean facilities with less people in the building.”

Typically, Roberts explained, custo dial management tries to avoid rebids because it prompts “anxiety” among the custodial staff. Prior to COVID-19, he said, the last rebid happened in 2013 or 2014. During COVID, however, the staff had to rebid at least twice.

According to Cory Holmes, a custo dian who has been with the College for

11 years, the shortages have impacted the responsibilities for current staff.

“It puts a little bit more of a burden on the custodians that have to pick up that workload that isn’t being covered,” Holmes said.

Two weekends ago, Martin said she took on an additional shift during a football game and ended up working a 13-hour shift. Between four custo dians, they were expected to cover 60 buildings.

“How do you physically get that much work out of one person in a day?” Martin said. “You’re going to hurt that person.”

According to Martin, these condi tions have caused custodians in both divisions to leave on injury and have led to increases in worker’s compensation claims.

In response to the labor shortages, Roberts said efforts have been made to hire additional employees.

“We’ve tried things like bonuses and increasing the rate of pay. There’s no longer an entry rate of pay right now, people come in at the full rate,” Roberts said. “We’re going to be hiring a recruit er to help us address this and establish contacts out there in the community that would help us target employees that help us with our services.”

Though the shortages have made working conditions more difficult for some employees, Holmes said he does not fault the College.

“I do feel like the College does appreciate it and does know what’s going on,” Holmes said. “It’s just a matter of they keep saying they need to hire people and they’re not hiring people, but that’s not their fault. It’s because people aren’t applying. It’s just a cycle that we’re just all trying to battle together.”

Roberts said he recognizes the pressure the labor shortages place on employees and is grateful for the work they do performing “a really important function to help maintain the health of the campus community.”

Still, Martin said she feels like the verbal support from the College doesn’t match its actions.

“We get told we’re appreciated in these rah-rah meetings that we have, but we don’t see it. The words don’t mean anything,” Martin said. “I’ve got a lot of time invested in Dartmouth. I don’t want to go anywhere.”

Peeling lead paint found in Russell Sage

infallible.”

Remediation efforts will vary depending on the size, location and state of the deteriorating paint, according to Gill. He said that the College traps lead paint particles using a high efciency particulate air filter and wet wipe before repainting the area where the deteriorating paint was found. He added that in other instances, EHS can put in a drop ceiling or a fberglass reinforced panel to encase the chipping paint.

Ellison known for drive and natural leadership

SEE ELLISON PAGE 1

into the classroom, which was really interesting because it was so diferent from what the other students had experienced.”

Milligan added that Ellison was “very frank,” “very upfront” and fun to be around. She said that although he never hesitated to contribute in class, he was also humble and a good listener who believed he had a lot to learn from his classmates.

Kristi Ellison said that she has become friends with many of the other students in Ellison’s program, and they regularly check up on her.

“He was a natural leader,” she said.

“His classmates will tell you that when he walked into a room, people would get really quiet because they wanted to hear what he had to say.”

Although Shumsky said that Ellison’s disabilities caused him some difculty with the program’s virtual learning format, he refused to let them stop him from completing the course.

Kristi Ellison said that she assisted Ellison with his course technology and provided medical support as he worked to complete his degree. Milligan added that Ellison had fulflled all the requirements of the program at the time of his death and will graduate posthumously with the rest of his class in June.

“It just spoke to his incredible tenacity and bravery in wanting to learn despite these challenges,” Shumsky said. “He was legitimately a hero.”

Outside of his studies at Dartmouth, Ellison was a loving husband, father and grandfather. Raised by a single dad who was also active-duty military, Ellison “never forgot where he came from” according to Kristi Ellison, who said that Ellison always made time for family. He frequently attended his children’s soccer games, went camping with his friends and supported his wife’s passion for boat racing.

Having completed his undergraduate and medical degrees in Georgia, Ellison was a lifelong fan of the Georgia Bulldogs and the Atlanta Braves. Last year, his teams respectively won the College Football National Championship and the World Series, which Kristi said was an “amazing” experience for him.

“He loved scary movies, but he said he never found one that actually scared him,” Kristi Ellison added. “People thought he was very serious and very focused, which he was, but he also had this side of him that most people didn’t get to see that my kids saw. He was very funny.”

Kristi Ellison recalled that each year, come holiday season, Ellison would buy winter coats to donate to kids who couldn’t aford them. She said that though he “wasn’t perfect,” he always tried his best to learn and improve.

“I think part of the reason he was so driven was if he ever stopped, it would be like giving in to the pain or giving up,” Kristi Ellison said. “He wanted to keep going. He just had an incredible drive.”

Russian department changes name to department of East European, Eurasian and Russian studies

BY FRANK BLACKBURN The Dartmouth Staff

This article was originally published on Sept. 27, 2022.

The faculty of the College’s department of Russian languages and literatures have agreed to change the department’s name to the East European, Eurasian and Russian studies department. The faculty unanimously agreed to the change during their frst meeting of the fall term on Sept. 15. The new name follows a petition from more than 100 students and alumni calling for the change.

Russian professor Ainsley Morse said that the current war in Ukraine was not the main reason for the change in the name, but recognized its importance.

“For most of [the faculty] this is a change that has been in the works for a long time,” she said. “So in that sense I wouldn’t say that this is a hasty response to the war in any way, but the war puts a very fne point on some of the questions that a lot of us have been asking for a very long time.”

Zhenia Dubrova ’24, who helped to write the petition, added that the war in Ukraine exposed some of the shortcomings in the study of Eastern Europe.

This article was originally published on Sept. 29, 2022.

A positive test for lead in Russell Sage Hall while a student was moving into his dorm on Sept. 10 has called attention to the cleanliness and safety of dorms on campus. The Dartmouth Ofce of Environmental Health and Safety and Residential Operations plan to repaint areas where chipped and peeling lead has been found in order to encase it within the paint, according to environmental and occupational safety ofcer Ryan Gill.

Russell Sage resident Jack Sinatra ’25 said that while moving in, he found his room with peeling paint on his windowsill and in his bathroom, as well as “dusty and grimy” surfaces in the room.

Sinatra’s mother, Lucia Sinatra, said that the condition of the room was “shocking,” with a “heavy level” of dust making it difcult to clean the room’s window sills and bathroom. After hearing rumors about a positive lead test in another room in the building from a friend, Jack Sinatra said that he decided to buy at-home test kits from Home Depot, which he said showed positive tests for lead paint on his windowsill and in his bathroom.

According to Gill, there is lead-based paint in “a multitude of buildings” on campus, which he said should be expected at an institution as old as Dartmouth. EHS director Annette

“As long as we’re managing the lead paint, it’s not a hazard,” Chism said. “We are aware that there are places on campus with lead paint, but that does not mean we automatically have a hazard in all of those spaces.”

Lead paint poses a risk when lead particles are ingested or inhaled after they are disturbed or made into dust — such as in the case of the deteriorating, cracking or peeling lead paint found in Russell Sage — according to the Environmental Protection Agency. For this reason, the College’s response to the paint situation will vary by room, depending on the state of the chipping paint in each location, Gill said.

According to Gill, though the College has been aware of the presence of lead paint in buildings across campus, the College did not know about the peeling and chipping of the paint in Russell Sage prior to this year’s move-in. Residential operations facilities manager Chris Johnson said that Residential Operations relies on maintenance and custodial staf, who are in the buildings daily, in addition to student’s Room Inventory Condition forms, to give feedback on any issue back to the office. Johnson added that the short turnover time between residents in between terms can make the department’s oversight more difcult because some rooms end up getting missed.

“The biggest issue … is that we miss these things,” Johnson said. “We’re not

While the College is taking some steps to contain the lead paint, some students feel unsatisfed with current measures. Sinatra’s roommate Noah Da Silva ’25 said that another student living on his foor got their room repainted to contain lead paint during the housing move-in period after their parent had complained, while Da Silva and Sinatra are still waiting for their wall to be repainted after calling in themselves. Da Silva and Sinatra said they were told that Residential Operations would repair their wall on Monday, but no one showed up to do the work. On Wednesday, however, Residential Operations inspected the room again.

“It’s kind of shocking … the diference between when a parent gets involved and when a student is trying to get involved,” Da Silva said. “It feels like they’re just trying to placate the parents and family, rather than actually improve conditions.”

Lucia Sinatra said that she wonders why the upkeep and maintenance process of older dorms on campus was not addressed prior to students moving in.

“I do not understand why Dartmouth has not allocated resources to update the dorms,” she said.

Gill said that EHS understands the concerns from students and parents.

“It was a little embarrassing to see some of the shape stuf was in,” he said. “But we can’t put the genie back in the bottle and we need to do the best we can with what we have in making it as safe as possible for the students.”

According to Da Silva, a College employee sent to inspect the lead paint in his dorm room’s bathroom said that the only way to fully remove the lead paint requires the College to “gut” the bathroom walls.

“It makes you wonder … What kind of value are they placing on our health?” he said. “Apparently less than the money it would take to renovate [the dorms].”

Department chair Lynn Patyk said that when the faculty of the department met on Sept. 15, the discussion over the name change lasted a “half-hour at most.” In a Sept. 17 letter to students who signed the petition, Patyk wrote that the change marks “long-standing changes” in the felds of Russian and Slavic studies.

“The name change is not merely cosmetic; it reflects our intention to immediately redouble existing eforts toward expanding our curriculum to include courses on Eastern and Central Europe, non-Russian regions and ethnic groups in the Russian Federation, as well as in the Caucasus and Central Asia,” she wrote in the letter.

Patyk said that faculty voiced a number of opinions and ideas, but quickly decided to change the name. There was no vote necessary because the decision was “pretty unanimous,” she said.

Patyk said that in an efort to align the department’s oferings with its broader name, each faculty member will be required to add one new course. She also said that some existing courses may be dropped in favor of new oferings which adhere to the department’s new vision.

Eric Hryniewicz ’23, who helped write the petition, said that the department already has course oferings that cover topics outside of Russia. He said that he thinks the name change will allow students to more easily fnd courses that they are interested in.

“If you are not somebody that would be interested in taking things related to Russia, you might still be interested in taking something related to Central Asia, Ukraine or Poland or the Balkans,” he said. “You wouldn’t think to look in the Russian department for a non-Russian class.”

“I think what the recent political developments in the world such as the war in Ukraine demonstrate is that in Russian academia there are a lot of misconceptions about the power dynamic in the region of Eastern Europe,” she said.

Morse said that many faculty hope to expand language offerings in the department beyond Russian.

“One of our long-term dreams is to fgure out if it would be possible to teach additional languages in the department,” she said. “But that is a long-term dream.”

Morse said that the new name will also emphasize the department’s diverse areas of study.

“The interests that students bring to the department extend beyond languages and literature,” she said. “[This] includes all kinds of aspects of culture, political science, history, sociology [and] anthropology.”

Dubrova said that she thinks the change in the department will align the College with other peer institutions.

“A lot of our peer institutions have Slavic studies departments and Eastern European studies,” she said. “Dartmouth is one of the few colleges that has only a Russian department.”

Patyk said that decisions by the faculty are just the “frst step” in a long name change process that will take at least a year to fnalize. She said that process includes submitting the department’s proposal to various committees within the College and having the entire faculty vote on it at the end of the year.

“We can’t just make this change, snap our fngers and it’s done,” she said. “That’s not it at all, we are a part of Dartmouth College.”

BY ARSHI NAGRA

The Dartmouth

Chism added that the presence of lead paint should not be immediate cause for concern.

TOBIN YATES/THE DARTMOUTH

Verbum Ultimum: Fatal Mismanagement

Following two weeks of contnuous tragedy, it is clear that Dartmouth needs a culture change — which starts at the top.

Dartmouth, to put it very mildly, is going through a rough patch. Last Monday, the Department of Safety and Security sent a campus-wide email alerting to the assault of a graduate student on Main Street. On Tuesday, The Dartmouth reported that the assault was being investigated as a hate crime by the Hanover Police Department. On Wednesday morning, interim Dean of the College Scott Brown sent a campus-wide email announcing the death of Joshua Watson ’22, who died in his hometown of Indianapolis on Aug. 27 while on leave from the College. At 6:19 p.m, the Ofce of the President at the College followed up by expressing “outrage” over the graduate student attack. Just two hours later, at 8:21 p.m., we learned of the death of a second classmate, Sam Gawel ’23, who died by suicide in Hanover on Wednesday. And just yesterday, College President Phil Hanlon announced that Luke Veenhuis, a Thayer researcher, died over the weekend.

The fear and grief that has enveloped campus in the last week is immense. And yet, the College marched on. As an unfortunate result, students have been left to pick up the pieces. On a campus where students are already furiously trying to stay afoat, adding the weight of multiple deaths — and an institution which fails to support all of its students — while we may already be struggling. Students cannot keep doing this alone — and the College must not force us to.

Lying by omission

On Sept. 17, biochemistry Ph.D. candidate Abubakar Khan was physically assaulted and verbally harassed by an older man on Main Street. Notably, the attack is being investigated as a hate crime by the Hanover Police Department, as Khan and his other friends are all of South Asian

descent. What’s more, subsequent reporting by The Dartmouth determined that this was not the frst time that graduate students had been verbally accosted by the man: Two other South Asian graduate students have reported similar incidents, which also included racial epithets, in the previous weeks. While the Department of Safety and Security sent out a “Timely Warning” to students alerting them of the physical assault, no mention was made concerning the fact that the attack appeared to be racially motivated, nor the assailant’s history of verbally assaulting students.

Safety and Security’s failure to promptly report the racialized nature of the attack undermined the ability of community members of color to be aware of an increased risk to their safety on campus. The College’s failure to deliver a prompt warning of the full nature of the attack — despite it being allegedly “timely” — does little to assuage concerns about the event. Racism exists, on campus and in the world. As uncomfortable as that may be to admit, it is not a high ask to request that the administration release such information. In short, Dartmouth failed its students.

Thankfully, Khan had friends and good samaritans who provided support. That said, what about crises that happen when no one is paying attention? We have seen, by the deaths of far too many of our peers, that a policy of indiference to each others’ fears and emotions can have devastating consequences. And yet, time and time again Dartmouth chooses this approach — whether it be in terms of providing students with the time and space to grieve, the room to confront the harsh reality of racism within our community or even with the fexibility to make mistakes. It often feels, to the College, that we are nothing more than academic automatons and numbers on a spreadsheet.

Turn Down the Heat

To truly address Dartmouth’s mental health crisis, a culture of burnout and excessive self-reliance must end.

This column was originally published on Sept. 29, 2022.

So here we are again: a week of compounding tragedies — and the feeling that very little of substance is going to change. As a student body, the outpouring of grief for the loss of both Joshua Watson ‘22 and Sam Gawel ‘23 has been visceral and physical; I’ve never seen more communities and campus organizations reach out, ofer space and check in. The recent hate crime against a graduate student has also weighed heavily on campus. Top college leaders joined in this chorus, organizing a community gathering this past Friday.

This one-week wellspring of care — of slowing down, checking in, asking for help — should extend beyond just moments of tragedy. Yet I fear we’re all just expected to go back to the same Dartmouth we knew before. The same Dartmouth where it can feel like a daily battle to stay afoat and not fall behind. The same Dartmouth where burning yourself out seems requisite to even claim you’ve worked hard. The same Dartmouth where you’re expected to sufer it all in silence, because it feels like weakness to ask for help and it seems like someone else is always busier than you. Yes, Dartmouth can — and must — improve our still-lacking mental health infrastructure. But until a culture which routinely pushes students to their breaking points is addressed, our crisis cannot be fully solved.

In my freshman year, I remember constant repetition of the phrase “swimming duck syndrome.” The idea was that although most students look like they have it together, under the surface, they are furiously working to stay afoat. In my experience, the phrase was usually invoked as reassurance — a way of saying “see, everyone is overwhelmed!” and recognizing shared adversity. It instead should’ve been deeply unsettling. Yes, going to a college like Dartmouth will always be a rigorous and academically challenging experience for students. But overworking should never be mistaken for good, hard work. And we certainly shouldn’t hide challenges beneath the veneer of the ever-competent Dartmouth student, zipping from clubs to classes without a moment for ourselves.

Unfortunately, we are not unique in this problem — what I’ll call a culture of burnout and self-reliance — among elite schools. A 2019 study of high school students revealed that “high-achieving schools” had two to three times the rate of anxiety and depression compared to average schools: their students were statistically an “at-risk” group for mental health conditions. Though there is no direct equivalent study for college students, we know that both teens and younger adults are facing a dizzying rise in rates of anxiety and depression.

Diving into the recent history of other Ivy League Schools, you can easily fnd similar moments to the one we’re facing now — a number of student deaths, followed by patchwork changes to mental health infrastructure.

In the 2016-2017 school year, Cornell saw six suicides. In the same year, Columbia sufered seven. And both schools received near-failing grades in a mental health report released over a year later. The script is all too familiar.

In the wake of these tragedies, doing “something” about mental health always rises to the forefront. Yes, fxing the mental health crisis includes direct changes to care. We need to add more counselors and allow them to provide long-term therapy, which extends beyond a single 10 week term. Our disastrous medical leave policy must change. But a holistic look at the culture of the school is also necessary, and can be a serious solution.

Some of this change is going to come from the student level — and I amply believe we can rise to the challenge.

In the absence of a true institutional safety net here at Dartmouth, fellow students have become the backstop.

Entire campus organizations like the Sexual Assault Peer Alliance and the Mental Health Student Union dedicate themselves to the wellbeing of their fellow students.

Yet there is still so much fear of slowing down or simply asking for help. We push ourselves to do as many activities as possible — it’s a mark of social clout how many things you can list out when asked what you do on campus. Despite the resources we have, it makes you feel somehow lesser to use them. If you’ll bear with me for a second, I think there is something of a “built diferent ‘’ mindset among the study body — ofering care and understanding to those around us, but failing to do so for ourselves.

In this, I am as guilty as the rest. In the spring, I was an ofcer in the Dartmouth Outing Club and on the directorate of First Year Trips, while also taking an intensive lab class and doing lab research. It was fun, chaotic, rewarding — and completely unsustainable. And that ultimately manifested in a very real consequence. After repeated nights of little sleep, I sufered a bad car accident in which I, simply by chance, avoided lifethreatening injuries. Although I was physically unhurt, I was badly shaken and fell further behind in my work. What I ultimately decided to do was withdraw from a class — and yet I still felt immensely guilty in doing so. Why was I, if I truly believed in support, care, and kindness?

Yet students cannot fix Dartmouth’s burnout culture without every part of this school — from the administration down to individual professors — making it central in their work. Every decision and policy needs to be evaluated with this goal in mind. I welcome the recent announcement of the Oct. 21 “Day of Caring.” But the day to day academic and social environment also must shift, which takes smaller, more specifc changes.

For instance, at Dartmouth, organic chemistry is taught over two terms. However, at many of our peer schools which have quarter systems, the sequence is instead three courses. Organic chemistry will always be a challenging subject — but it doesn’t need to be as bad as it is here, where some students instead choose to spend their entire summer taking organic chemistry at another school. And no, this is not acceptable simply because at Dartmouth “things move quickly” or because it’s the way it’s always been. Practices like the way we teach orgo break our students — whether it be just in that one class or the accumulated stress of being pushed a little too far term after term.

Culture change can feel like a nebulous and undefnable reform. On the whole, it is. But when you break it down into many little changes, it suddenly becomes much more actionable. I don’t know the whole of what has to change at this school — I used the orgo example as a STEM major, but frankly have no clue what changes are needed in other academic departments or across all the organizations on campus. And I suspect nobody does entirely.

So that’s where true leadership from the top comes in. Our president, deans and other top leaders should make it clear that changing the culture is the priority, even if they understandably lack the knowledge to make every individual fx themselves. Maybe, just maybe, they are fnally getting it.

Yes, this efort will include further reform to our mental health system — beyond just ordering more outside reports and consultations. But it needs to touch all aspects of this school, even some of the things we prize most about Dartmouth, like the exhilarating and overwhelming intensity of our 10 week terms. Events have made clear that this school is pushing students to — and past — their breaking points. Nothing short of reforming Dartmouth’s entire campus culture can be a solution.

Broken records want to heal

Dartmouth’s mental health crisis reached a boiling point with the onset of the pandemic. Since Nov. 2020, at least four current Dartmouth students have died by suicide: Beau DuBray ’24, Connor Tifany ’24, Elizabeth Reimer ’24 and now, Gawel. While Dartmouth began to acknowledge the magnitude of the mental health crisis through establishing a partnership with the JED foundation last September and more recently setting up free teletherapy services for students, the origins of Dartmouth’s mental health crisis are rooted in its culture, which only acts to set students up to fail. The College expects its student body to operate as a well-oiled machine. When that machine breaks down — when the institution fails to supply the proverbial oil — students crash and burn. Just yesterday, Max Teszler ’23 shared in his column that he sufered a car accident after overburdening himself in an efort to ft into Dartmouth’s relentless burnout and self-reliance culture. Earlier this week, Kyle Mullins ’22 pointed out that when seven student deaths in two years forces students to repeatedly grieve — a natural human condition that Dartmouth’s culture leaves little room for — the College encourages students to move on as quickly as possible by failing to provide students with the academic fexibility to grieve.

The past weeks have demonstrated that we cannot expect this cycle of indiference to end without addressing the culture of outward perfectionism that prioritizes club meetings and term papers over students’ well-being. Students themselves are not responsible for this culture; though they are agents of it, this culture begins at the administrative level, in which forcing students to push themselves to the breaking point just to be considered “successful” is seen as a point of pride and prestige.

These cultural issues are colossal — and no one person will be able to fx it single-handedly. It may very

well be true that, despite Spencer Allen ’23’s argument against the partnership, the JED Foundation may be able to achieve its goal of “systemic and enduring change” and guide the College to meaningful cultural change in the long-term. Nonetheless, we must begin to correct our culture now. We need faculty, staf and the administration to recognize the student body’s need to take things one step at a time. And during times where students struggle to put one foot in front of the other, faculty must deliver compassion — not calamity — to students, as Natalie Dokken ’23 argued last summer.

The bottom line? Dartmouth must change We beg the administration to approach every crisis or tragedy with compassion and empathy. Remember back to when you were in college; treat Dartmouth students like they are your friends from back then. Treat us with the compassion you give your niece or nephew. While the decision to extend the NRO deadline and implement a “Day of Caring” are important steps to help students through this time of crisis, they should not be one-time occurrences that students must fght for. If Dartmouth wants to build towards a culture of caring, time away from classes for refection and increased academic fexibility for students should become norms.

We must assign a higher value to students’ wellbeing and lives than to midterms and assignments. When campus crises are mismanaged, students are the ones who bear the burden to support distraught peers when they themselves are distraught too. We have been carrying this weight for far too long — it’s time that the people who claim to care for us step in to shoulder the load.

The editorial board consists of opinion staf columnists, the opinion editors, the executive editors and the editor-in-chief.

e True Colors of Dartmouth

If it takes multple student deaths to prompt even incremental change, what does that say about the College?

This column was originally published on Sept. 27, 2022.

In two years, at least four Dartmouth students have died by suicide.

That sentence should not read so smoothly, so factually, because it should not be true. And yet it is. Four students have taken their own lives. Their families and the Dartmouth community will be picking up the pieces for the rest of ours.

Friday’s gathering on the lawn of Baker-Berry, in honor of those who died, was touching. Terribly sanitized, yes, but it gave me some vague sense of emotional closure I did not know I had needed over the previous 48 hours. I am glad the College provided for such a gathering because it highlighted one of the best features of our community: our ability to come together and support one another in the aftermath of extraordinary tragedy.

That feature, however, is limited. It is a feature of the individuals of our community — the club leaders who sent messages of support in group chats and canceled or delayed functions, the staf and faculty who gave their all for dispirited students and the many people who checked in on their friends.

This is not a feature of Dartmouth as an institution. If the College truly wants to live up to its professed values of community, it will do more than appear to care, more than just respond in the moment. It will address the dual underlying sicknesses that pervade campus: a mental health system that utterly fails to support this community and a culture that encourages us to just move on from death, to not change anything at all.

I still remember when I learned that Elizabeth Reimer ’24 had died. I was heading this newspaper at the time, fnalizing our spring special issue. The Dartmouth’s ofces were still shuttered due to COVID-19, so I was sitting in a rented space in the former Alpha Delta fraternity house near the end of a hellish term. The email came in shortly after 3:30 p.m. College President Phil Hanlon expressed condolences, ofered a brief account of Reimer’s time at Dartmouth and listed some resources for students. I made a few phone calls, and we published our breaking news update. I was heartbroken in part because I felt demoralized, resigned that this episode would end up like the other two deaths by suicide among students earlier that academic year.

I was wrong. Over the following week, Dartmouth experienced an outpouring of grief and anger the likes of which I’d never seen on campus. Students organized an improvised vigil on the Green. Rage-flled op-eds were published. Angry members of the campus community painted blood and messages like “Paint is impermanent. Loss of life is forever” on Parkhurst Hall and Hanlon’s driveway. The initials of three students who died were stained into the asphalt outside their dorms.

The College gave an inch that, at the time, felt like a mile, announcing some minor changes to mental health policy and holding an ofcial vigil for all the students who died — while also rejecting widespread student calls to cancel classes. This episode tells us a lot about how this institution, this investment frm-with-a-universityattached, works. It essentially ignores long-term problems — and then muddles through the crises generated just

enough to keep going.

To its credit, Dartmouth has shown improvement in publicly responding to events since. After two student deaths — Joshua Watson ’22 and Sam Gawel ’23 — were announced in one day last Wednesday, the College made counselors available in the Collis Center for a few hours. It organized the Friday gathering, sent multiple messages updating students on available mental health resources and even extended the deadline for declaring the nonrecording option.

But substantive change is nowhere to be found. Two new counselors and an additional on-call nurse are good, but hardly sufcient. The long-awaited JED Foundation report about mental health on campus — which was supposed to be released last spring — remains a mystery. The claimed “success to date” on the College’s JED website is, frankly, pitiful, containing few concrete accomplishments beyond a free Headspace subscription for community members and the aforementioned new counselors — but what else could be expected from an arrangement that was destined to fail? There have been no College-wide policy changes about academic leniency, no permanent expansion of the NRO policy, no plan for long-term counseling options, no adjustments to the loathsome medical withdrawal policy and — most of all — no broad recognition that the culture on this campus must change from one that moves on from death to one that seeks to prevent it.

When in the history of the College have so many died in such a short time span to so little reaction? Spring 2021’s round of incremental policy change came after the deaths of four students: Reimer, Beau DuBray ’24, Lamees Kareem ’22 and Connor Tifany ’24. This time, fve more deaths — Watson and Gawel, David Gallagher ’20, Richard Ellison MHCDS ’23 and Alex Simpson ’22 — and an alleged hate crime in Hanover have, incredibly, spurred nothing.

Yet we are somehow expected to keep calm and carry on, knowing that at the end of the day, those in charge do not see these tragedies — nine student deaths in two years, seven more among faculty and staf — as serious enough to change anything fundamental about how this campus works. In 2013, Dartmouth canceled classes after a protest at the Dimensions new student program sparked a burst of online hate. Do multiple deaths really not meet a similar bar for radical action? Do they not merit massive collective refection on what it means to live and work and exist on this campus? Is the College determined to desensitize us to loss, to teach us by way of inaction that we live in an indiferent universe?

When Dartmouth itself changes nothing of substance in the face of overwhelming, repeated tragedy, the institution shows its true colors: not vibrant green and white, but cold and uncaring shades of black. We have asked for a mental health overhaul and a change of culture. This is not an unreasonable ask, and yet every small step forward seems to come at an unacceptable price. How many more deaths will it take to make a diference?

Kyle Mullins is the former editor-in-chief of The Dartmouth. He is now a member of the Opinion staf and his views do not necessarily represent those of The Dartmouth.

SENIOR COLUMNIST KYLE MULLINS ’

STAFF COLUMNIST MAX TESZLER

‘Madayin: Eight decades of Aboriginal Australian Bark Painting from Yirrkala’ makes history at the Hood

BY GIANNA TOTANI

The Dartmouth

On Sept. 3, the Hood Museum of Art debuted its newest exhibition: “Maḏayin: Eight Decades of Aboriginal Australian Bark Painting from Yirrkala.” Organized by the Kluge-Ruhe Aboriginal Art Collection of the University of Virginia in partnership with the Buku-Larrnggay Mulka Centre in Australia, “Maḏayin” makes history as both the frst major exhibition of Aboriginal Australian art in the United States and the largest display of Aboriginal Australian art in the Western Hemisphere in 30 years.

“Maḏayin” allows the Yolŋu people to convey the stories of their culture, families and heritage. Many of these stories originated in Yirrkala, the northeast Arnhem Land in Australia’s Northern Territory. “Maḏayin” is the frst exhibition for which Yolŋu people have been asked to participate in the curating and decision making processes.

According to Wakun Wanambi, artist and Yolŋu co-curator of Maḏayin, no Yolŋu have ever curated before this exhibit — it was a job for the “nonYolŋu” who do not understand the rich history of these paintings in the same way the Yolŋu do. This partnership allows for the unique, authentic voices of Indigenous Australian people to be displayed in an American museum.

In the opening remarks of the exhibition’s media event, Hood Museum director John Stomberg said that the exhibition has undergone a long journey.

“[“Maḏayin”] is a project that our colleagues at the Kluge-Ruhe have been working on for seven years, but a tradition that goes back much farther,” Stomberg said. “I think one way of thinking about this exhibition, this art, these wonderful paintings, is that it is a beautiful fower, with roots that go down 80,000 years.”

According to the information displayed on the walls throughout the exhibition, the Yolŋu have a deep culture that was confusing to follow at

times. However, in curating “Maḏayin,” the Yolŋu people organized the pieces according to their kinship system, called gurrutu. Gurrutu is known to the Yolŋu people as raki, or string, and it is how all Yolŋu people are connected. The raki also applies to the land, sea, creatures and plants. Through this interconnectedness, the Yolŋu people have great knowledge of the land and the sea; they belong to the land and everything in their world through gurrutu.

The Yolŋu people have another way of classifying their pieces throughout this exhibit. All Yolŋu clans belong to the Dhuwa or the Yirritja, complementary groups, or moieties. Yolŋu people must marry someone from the opposite moiety, and Yolŋu children always take their father’s moiety. Each artist on display in “Maḏayin” belongs to one of sixteen diferent clans; eight are Dhuwa and eight are Yirritja.

Henry Skerritt, curator of Indigenous arts of Australia at the Kluge-Ruhe Collection, explained that this exhibition is about relationships.

“It’s about families,” Skerritt said. “It’s about speaking across cultures, but it’s about doing it in your own words, about respecting each other’s way of seeing the world.”

Upon entering the exhibition, viewers are greeted by a full-wall projection of the ocean waves in Australia. On the adjacent wall there is a quote by Wukun Wanambi, a recently deceased artist and member of the exhibition’s curatorial team.

“Like the surface of the water, beneath is an ocean of knowledge,” Wanambi said. “We can only show you the surface.”

This quote sets the expectation for the exhibition before viewers move upstairs to view and appreciate 80 bark paintings that explain the rich history of the Yolŋu.

For decades, the Yolŋu people have painted their clan designs on themselves and other ceremonial objects. These ancestral land designs of intricate

patterns are maḏayin, a term that means sacred and beautiful. With some paintings standing over 12 feet tall, the paintings are created on sheets of eucalyptus bark using natural pigments. Although the color scheme of these paintings only consists of a few natural colors, the patterns and meanings behind these paintings are vibrant, drawing viewers in to learn and understand.

“Maḏayin” incorporates older pieces dating back to 1935 and some newly commissioned paintings created by Yolŋu Aborigial Australian artists specifcally for the exhibit. As visitors move throughout the exhibit, they will also experience the use of flm. Produced by Ishmael Marika, a Yonglu flmmaker and integral person in the curation of “Maḏayin,” there are four foor-toceiling projections of Yolŋu ceremonial dance. The combination of new media and sacred, ancestral paintings blend beautifully.

During the press event for “Maḏayin,”

Ishmael and Djuwakan Marika, a Yolŋu father and son team, ceremonially performed a song about birds before viewers were guided through the exhibition and given an authentic history of a few specifc bark paintings.

“Destiny” (2019) is a piece by Wakun Wanambi, a member of the Marrakulu clan. From far away the piece looks like dots on a large piece of eucalyptus bark. However, as the viewer moves in closer, the detail of hundreds of small fsh becomes clear. Through this piece, Wanambi tells the story of a fsh called Wawumtjpal that swims through the water, wondering where his path is. Going alone at frst, the fsh traveled from river to river until he found his own family.

Then, the fsh returned to the rock and laid down his spirit with his family.

According to Djuwakan Marika, a Yolŋu musician, dancer, artist and the grandson of the great artist Wandjuk Djuwakan Marika, “Destiny” displays more than just the story.

“It brings the rain,” Marika said. “[The Yolŋu] typically like stories. Story comes with the songlines.”

The designs presented by the Yolŋu people make viewers feel the Yolŋu’s rich tradition and family ties, while also providing a platform for them to educate viewers in a setting that has never heard the voices or stories of these people.

Will Stubbs, the director of the Buku-Larrnggay Mulka Arts Centre in Yirrkala, Australia summarized the power and beauty of “Maḏayin.”

“This exhibition traces the trajectory of sharing by allowing people who will never understand the intricacies of Yolŋu culture a window into what might exist on that other side of that fence through the power of visual art,” Stubbs said. “This is ‘Maḏayin’: sacred, secret, law and maḏayin, beauty.”

“Maḏayin” will remain at the Hood Museum of Art until Dec. 4. After Dartmouth, the exhibition will embark on a nationwide tour.

Trends: Jennette McCurdy’s memoir revives conversations about child entertainment industry horrors

BY SHAPHNAH MCKENZIE The Dartmouth Staff

Jennette McCurdy’s memoir “I’m Glad My Mom Died,” released on Aug. 9, has made its way onto the bestseller table in bookstores — complete with a pink and yellow cover and a photo of the former “iCarly” star smiling with a pink urn. While the memoir’s title may present as a mere shock tactic, the title points to a fundamental truth: The death of her mother, Debra McCurdy, brought Jennette McCurdy peace. In writing the book, she said she has achieved a catharsis possible only in the absence of her mother, who disapproved of all her creative pursuits. With her mother dead, McCurdy is fnally free to admit: “I absolutely prefer writing to acting. Through writing, I feel power for maybe the frst time in my life.”

“I’m Glad My Mom Died” tackles tough subjects — including eating disorders, as well as physical, emotional and sexual abuse. The memoir comes at a time when the #MeToo movement has encouraged women to share their stories to combat harassment. Furthermore, fans of McCurdy’s older work from their childhoods have now matured enough to grapple with these difficult topics. The memoir has revived an ongoing discourse about the dangers of the child entertainment industry, which has, in turn, set the stage for other child stars to come forward.

Allegations against Nickelodeon predate McCurdy’s 2022 memoir. Nickelodeon’s history of negligence seemed to have begun with Angelique Bates, another former child Nickelodeon star from the 1990s who appeared as a series regular in “All That” from 1992 to 1996. Bates has since shared her experiences — in 2016, she published a video in which she detailed her abuse by her mother on set: “I was physically, mentally, emotionally abused in front of the producers and cast members and sometimes they could even hear me yelling, but nothing was done to help me until. . . [Child Protective Services] was called.” Many, including Tyisha Hampton — ex-wife of former Nickelodeon star Kel Mitchells — and McCurdy in her memoir, have claimed that young actors on the set

of “All That” were provided alcohol.

Coverage of the memoir by mainstream media outlets has reinvigorated discussion about dangerous work environments for child stars, with Nickelodeon as the paramount example of an unsafe space for young actors. McCurdy’s memoir showcases some of the ways in which parental abuse works in tandem with the abuse of power by adults in the industry, often creating lasting psychological scars.

McCurdy said her mother was emotionally manipulative and would guilt Jennette into continuing an acting career she despised, as well as encouraging her to restrict calories. No one intervened, even as Jennette sufered through anorexia and bulimia.

McCurdy most often focuses on someone she refers to only as “The Creator,” though some readers have used descriptions to point to Dan Schneider, long-time producer of millennial and Gen Z childhood classics like “Zoey 101,” “Victorious” and, of course, “iCarly.”

McCurdy’s memoir ultimately reveals the dark reality of securing a spin-of show from The Creator, depicting an egotistical and manipulative Schneider as constantly lauding his power to make or break a child’s career while subtly pitting actors against each other.

According to McCurdy, the elevation of an actor’s career was contingent on their obedience and deference to Schneider; McCurdy wrote that she felt “on edge, desperate to please, terrifed of stepping out of line” after Schneider promised McCurdy her own spin-of show after iCarly. McCurdy’s mother encouraged her to maintain a mask, never expressing discomfort or disapproval. Following her mother’s instructions, McCurdy showed no hint of distress, even as Schneider “coaxed” her into tasting alcohol and “caressed” her knee.

McCurdy’s memoir has had massive ripple efects. In August 2022, fellow Nickelodeon star Alexa Nikolas, who played Nicole Bristow on “Zoey 101,” staged a protest outside the Nickelodeon headquarters. A video of the protest posted to Instagram shows her holding a sign that reads “Nickelodeon didn’t protect me. ” Nikolas relates to McCurdy’s experience, refecting, “[Schneider] played a huge role

in my personal childhood trauma. I did not feel safe around Dan Schneider while I was working at Nickelodeon.”

In one chapter of the memoir, McCurdy wrote that she recalled having to endure the discomfort of a bikini photoshoot on the set of “iCarly.” Feeling exposed and over-sexualized, she asked the wardrobe designer if she “could please just try on one-pieces with board shorts,” to which the wardrobe designer replied that “The Creator explicitly asked for bikinis.”

McCurdy does not seem to be alone in feeling that Schneider’s wardrobe choices were inappropriate. Daniella Monet, who infamously played Trina in “Victorious,” told Business Insider in Oct. 2019 that she felt that many of the show’s costumes were “not age appropriate” for her and her fellow actresses and that she “wouldn’t even wear some of that today as an adult.” Monet also said she wished “certain things. . . didn’t have to be so sexualized,” mostly referring to a scene in “Victorious” where

her character eats a pickle while sprawled on the couch, reapplying lipstick in between bites.

Even after Monet had expressed her discomfort over the sexual suggestiveness of the scene to the producers, Nickelodeon still chose to air it. With video compilations of old episodes of “iCarly” and “Victorious” going viral since the pandemic, fans of both shows have also begun to question some of the blatantly sexual innuendos infused within episodes, seemingly providing further evidence of the perversion and power abuse McCurdy calls out in her memoir.

In 2018, Nickelodeon cut ties with Schneider following an inside investigation into his allegations of misconduct on sets at Nickelodeon. While the investigation supposedly yielded no evidence of sexual misconduct, it did fnd that Schneider was verbally abusive towards staf and actors on set, which is corroborated by McCurdy’s account: “I’ve seen The Creator make

grown men and women cry with his insults and degradation.”

Schneider has essentially been cast of of a sinking ship, as Nickelodeon’s Nielsen ratings, which tracks the engagement of entertainment, have shown a strong downward trend since at least January 2017, falling from 1.3 million viewers per week to 372,000 in 2021 — a loss of over 71% of its viewership in just four years.

“I’m Glad My Mom Died” has reinvigorated the discourse surrounding the dangers present within the child entertainment industry, which has, in turn, inspired former child actors to join the conversation in solidarity with McCurdy. As social media continues to shed light on mistreatment in Hollywood, former child stars and their fans are calling for greater accountability from studios — not only to acknowledge the past misconduct of powerful producers, but to take actionable steps toward creating a safer environment for young actors and actresses.

LILA HOVEY/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF

McCurdy’s memoir reveals the traumas she endured as a child actor at Nickelodeon, reviving discourses surrounding child abuse in the actng industry.

PHOTO COURTESY OF THE HOOD MUSEUM OF ART

‘Maḏayin,’ the frst major exhibiton of Aboriginal Australian art in the United States, is currently on view at the Hood untl Dec. 4.

SPORTS

e Look Ahead: Week 4

BY BOO DEWITT The Dartmouth

Friday, Sept. 30

Women’s Tennis

Women’s tennis will host the ITA Regionals in Hanover from Friday to Sunday. Dartmouth spent last weekend in Newport, Rhode Island at the International Tennis Hall of Fame Women’s Collegiate Invitational. At the invitational, Big Green doubles partners Brooke Hess ’26 and Ujvala Jupalli ’25 fell to Boston College in the semifnals.

Men’s Cross Country

Following a second place fnish at the Battle in Beantown race in Boston, men’s cross country will travel to Bethlehem, Penn. for the Paul Short Invitational on Friday. The men’s team scored 98 points at the Battle in Beantown race, while two weekends prior they secured a win with 29 points at the Maribel Sanchez Souther Invitational. Will Daley ’24 and Albert Velikonja ’25 have been leading the Big Green’s strong start to the 2022 fall season.

Football Football (1-1) will begin Ivy League play against the University of Pennsylvania (2-0) this Friday at 7 p.m. Last Saturday, despite jumping out to an 18-point lead in the frst quarter — powered by quarterback Nick Howard ’23, who rushed for a career-high 186 yards — the team lost in overtime last weekend to Sacred Heart in Fairfeld, Connecticut. The reigning Ivy League champions look to secure their frst league win — and second win this season — at home.

Women’s Volleyball

After a strong 9-2 start to the season — including Dartmouth’s frst Ivy League win of the season against Harvard University (1-8) last weekend — women’s volleyball hosts Princeton University (9-2) on Friday and the University of

Pennsylvania (1-10) on Sunday. So far this season, the Big Green are undefeated at home and are looking to continue this streak this weekend.

Saturday, Oct. 1

Men’s Golf

Men’s golf heads to Lake Placid, New York for the Autumn Invite hosted by Columbia University this Saturday and Sunday. Last weekend at the Dartmouth Invitational, Dartmouth’s teams secured a third and fourth place fnish out of a feld of nine teams, with the “B” team scoring the highest for the program since 2015. Leading the “A” team efort was Eli Kimche ’25, after he ended the weekend with his best performance to date of 7071-141 (-3), just one stroke behind the frst-place fnisher.

Women’s Sailing Women’s sailing is back in action this weekend, taking part in four competitions this Saturday and Sunday and marking the team’s fourth consecutive weekend of competition this fall. The sailing team will disperse throughout New England to compete in the Women’s Atlantic Coast Championship Round 1 at Boston College, the Danmark Trophy at Coast Guard Academy, the Smith Trophy at MIT and the Moody trophy at the University of Rhode Island. The Big Green is coming of a fourth-place fnish at the annual Hurst Bowl last weekend.

Equestrian Equestrian looks to secure its frst win of the season as members travel to Tennessee this Saturday to compete against the University of Tennessee at Martin. Last weekend in their meet against reigning national champion University of Lynchburg, Alexa Strauss ’26 had a strong showing in her frst ever collegiate competition, earning a point in her frst time opening the ring. After losing 1-7 to the top-ranked team in the country last weekend, the Big Green is currently

ranked fourth in the nation according to NCEA Rankings.

Field Hockey This weekend, field hockey (3-5) plays back-to-back games. First, the Big Green will compete in its second Ivy League game this season against Brown University (6-2) on Saturday at 11:00 a.m. on Chase Field. On Sunday, the team travels to Durham, New Hampshire for a tilt against the University of New Hampshire (3-6). The Big Green are 3-1 at home and look to continue to improve their record this weekend.

Women’s Rugby Following a two-game win streak against Sacred Heart and Quinnipiac the past two weekends, women’s rugby (2-0) faces of against Army West Point (3-0) this Saturday at 1 p.m. on its home turf. Dartmouth has won both of its games so far by at least 26 points. The Big Green will face its stifest test of the season so

far, as this weekend’s matchup on Brophy Field is a rematch of last year’s NIRA championship — in which Dartmouth came out on top.

Women’s Soccer

This weekend, women’s soccer (5-3-1) travels to New Jersey to compete against Princeton University (6-4) in its second Ivy League matchup of the season. While on the road this season, the Big Green has secured wins against Sacred Heart University and the University of Vermont. The team looks to add one more away

win — and its frst Ivy League win of the season — in its game this weekend.

Men’s Soccer

Following a 2-2-2 record so far this season, men’s soccer looks to make a splash in its frst Ivy League competition of the year. Dartmouth hosts Princeton at Burnham Field at 4:30 pm this Saturday. In its last game against Stonehill College last Saturday, the ofense made a huge impact, scoring six goals throughout the game. The team looks to carry this momentum into its frst Ivy League game of the season.

Q&A with former Secretary of the Treasury Hank Paulson ’68

BY CAROLINE YORK

The Dartmouth Staff

Hank Paulson ’68 is one of Dartmouth’s most notable alumni.

As a member of the Big Green football team, he led the team to Ivy League titles in 1965 and 1966.

After graduation, he obtained an MBA from Harvard Business School.

Following a stint at the Pentagon and working in the Richard Nixon administration, he joined investment banking firm Goldman Sachs, where he was eventually named chief executive officer. From 2006 to 2009, he served as Secretary of the Treasury under President George W. Bush and managed the financial crisis of 2008. The Dartmouth sat down with Paulson to discuss how his Dartmouth experience helped to

build his leadership skills and prepare for a remarkable career.

During your time at Dartmouth, you wore many hats as a starter on the football team, a member of Phi Beta Kappa and a member of a fraternity. How did balancing these responsibilities prepare you for later challenges in your career?

HP: When the football team won the Lambert Trophy in 1965, the football team had a higher academic average than the student body overall. I played with three starting linemen who went to medical school and another who became a Presbyterian minister — and I went to business school. My primary goal was to do well academically, and then I had an

opportunity to play on a team that did very well on the field for three years.

I’ve always felt that a good key to success is being able to balance multiple activities. I think one of the things I learned while playing football at Dartmouth is the discipline it takes to pursue a number of different things at the same time. I was playing with others who cared a lot about their success in the classroom. I also had a coaching staff that recognized how important it was for all of us to do well in the classroom.

How did football complement your work in the classroom and enhance your liberal arts education as an English major?

HP: There’s nothing that is quite as valuable as a broad liberal arts

education, where students are taught to think creatively, to think out of the box and to explore ideas. When I ran Goldman Sachs, I hired people from the best schools all over the world, and I thought that the U.S. liberal arts schools did the very best job of preparing outstanding leaders. One of the reasons I picked Dartmouth was that it was a college that was largely focused on undergraduates. Unlike some of my friends that went to Harvard, where they were taught by teaching assistants, the big-name professors at Dartmouth taught me. I went to professors’ houses for dinner.

You endowed the head coaching position after your former coach, Robert L. Blackman. What influence did he have on you not only in your Dartmouth journey but also in your later career?

HP: Bob Blackman was a towering figure. He demanded excellence. He was a brilliant coaching mind. We had a very, very complicated offense. We always knew that when we went out there, we’d be better coached and better prepared than any other team. What was amazing to me, it wasn’t just Blackman, but it was the coaches he assembled. They were a fantastic group — every one of his assistant coaches went on to become a head coach. With Bob Blackman, I really learned the importance of preparedness, excellence and discipline. I was able to honor a man who was a very important figure in my life [by endowing the position of Blackman].

You’ve been quoted as saying that “Peacocks seldom make good leaders.” How much of that philosophy ties back to your time as a Dartmouth offensive lineman?

HP: In high school, I was a good wrestler, and when you go on the mat, it’s just you. I respect that, but there’s something to be said for athletes who are part of a team. I always liked hiring men and women athletes who participated in team sports. To me, it wasn’t as important if they were really good athletes, but whether they knew how to compete and win and lose graciously. The interesting thing

about football is that you’re relying on each other. I was an offensive lineman, and you’ve got to be willing to grovel in the dirt. You’re there to support others, so you’re certainly not a peacock. I have great respect for linemen.

Did you view President Bush more as your coach or your quarterback during your time as Secretary of the Treasury?

HP : It’s a very interesting relationship; President Bush was very much a coach as opposed to a quarterback because he delegated. In a crisis, you need to move quickly. Even when I was bringing in very bad news at different points during the financial crisis of 2008, he said to me, “Listen, you are my wartime general right now. You have prepared for this your whole life; you and I have had a year to work together before the crisis hit. So I trust you.” Then I kept him posted. When I came to him and said, “Mr. President, we’re going to have to put capital in the banks.” He said, “But you told the whole world you weren’t going to do that.” I said, “I’m just going to say we were wrong, and we need to change in order to save the financial system.” He gave me his support and told me it was the right decision. President Bush was also in the Class of 1968 from Yale, which was the team that dethroned us my senior year, so he would kid me about that. He’s a sports fan.

Do you have any words of advice for Dartmouth football players as they prepare for the upcoming season and seek to defend their 2021 Ivy League title?

HP: It’d be great if they win the league again, but I think the important thing for that team is going to be being able to look in the mirror and know that they gave their all, because you’re just not going to win a championship every year. The victories feel great. The losses feel terrible. A lot of life has to do with being able to win gracefully, and then be able to also lose gracefully and figure out how to get up and then win the next game.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity and length.

ZOORIEL TAN/THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF

Paulson, who was a member of the Big Green football 1965 and 1966 Ivy League-winning teams, shared how his experience at Dartmouth shaped his skills as a leader.

MIRROR

Anyone Have a Light? Smoking Culture on Campus

By Tess BowlerSTORY

This article was originally published on Sept. 28, 2022.

I smoked my frst cigarette when I was 17. The week before, I had been hired at a pseudo-hipster falafel and kabob restaurant, where I had instantly fallen in love with my punk, college-dropout coworker who took smoke breaks about every other hour.

Naturally, I asked one of my friends to “teach” me how to smoke, so I wouldn’t make a fool of myself if my coworker ever asked me if I wanted a cigarette.

Sorry, mom.

When I came to Dartmouth, one of the frst things I noticed was that we are a tobacco-free campus. Huh? I had never heard of such a thing.

First the “ban” on hard alcohol, and now this: I started to think I had chosen the wrong school. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a big smoker, never was and (probably,

hopefully, fngers crossed) never will be. For me, it’s always been a social tool rather than an actual dependence. However, this doesn’t mean that my peers aren’t somewhat, kind of, maybe-just-a-little addicted.

I originally intended for this article to be an interview-style piece in which I talked to some friends and peers about their smoking habits. To my chagrin, each and every one of them echoed a resounding “No” when I approached them.

“My mom doesn’t know I smoke,” said one friend, who I have not seen go a full day without using some nicotine device.

“I don’t want my future employers to see the article when they inevitably google me,” commented another, as we were literally sharing a cigarette last weekend.

“Do you have to use my real name?” asked a friend of a friend. I’ve known she was a smoker before I ever met her, and I was almost positive she would agree to do

the interview.

These are all perfectly valid points, but, c’mon guys it’s not like we’re talking about meth.

The funny thing about smoking culture at Dartmouth is that (in my experience) the demographic of smokers comprises the people you most suspect, as well as those you’d think would never be caught dead with a cigarette.

The frst people I encountered that smoked openly around campus were a group of Europeans I’ve maintained casual and close friendships with (they were all in the running for the interview portion of the article, and they all refused). However, this habit makes sense for them since cigarette and nicotine usage is far more normalized in Europe than in America.

On the fip side, during Green Key, I overheard two female athletes converse about who had the lighter and who had

the pack of cigarettes as they strutted across campus to the main concert.

In my one year at Dartmouth, I’ve seen my fair share of anonymous students smoking on the porch of a frat house, as they stroll into Hanover or loiter outside of the 1902 Room I even saw a guy this morning light up a cigarette as he was leaving the gym. You get the point.

This begs the question: Why are we so hesitant to talk about something that we are so eager to do as soon as someone opens a new pack of Marlboros on a late Friday evening?

Like many problems, I think this is a condition of our youth; we are constantly being pulled in so many directions. We do it in the moment, maybe to seem cool or take the edge of, but then are afraid to speak about it the next day and elevate our decisions into real life, where they have very real consequences.

American culture so vehemently detests smoking and Dartmouth looks down upon it similarly. But like many things, we critique without a solution. Although smoking is technically prohibited on campus, it seems like this habit might be a symptom of broader Dartmouth culture, and thus requires a deeper fx.

It also doesn’t take a genius to recognize how smoking has been romanticized in alternative subcultures, planting roots that have yet to be disturbed in many artistic and intellectual circles. One side says smoking kills, the other says smoking is cool.

But who am I to moralize? I’m just like every other student here, rushing to meet deadlines, vying for my place in the social terrarium that is college, fnding time for clubs and having the occasional cigarette.

One thing I do know is that if Dartmouth students are anything, they’re intense. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve locked myself in the Stacks midday on Wednesday or Friday for hours on end, just so I can get work done and have a guilt-free night of going out into the early hours of the morning. We know the negative impact that alcohol and nicotine can have on our bodies, but once we press “submit” on our assignments, we indulge nonetheless a kind of nihilistic “screw you” to the establishment that demands our intellectual labor and criticizes our late-night decisions. Work hard, play harder. This motto might as well be tattooed over most Dartmouth students’ hearts. It’s no wonder that a stress-fighting, albeit harmful, substance is still in widespread use over our campus.

Life moves pretty fast at Dartmouth College; I’m not the frst to say it, and I certainly won’t be the last. When I look back on all the times I’ve scrambled to fnish my homework or a club application, just to move on to the next thing usually a disappointing night spent watching my guy friends play pong in some sticky basement I feel a little silly. All this buildup, and for what? I’ve seen all my friends do the same thing, running out of steam in the name of “trying to do it all,” a desperate grasp at our youth even though half of us haven’t even hit twenty.

I think it’s funny how much we judge some habits, and not others. When shaming our peers, or even ourselves, for tobacco or alcohol consumption, we forget that even good things, like our ability to push ourselves, can be spoiled in excess. One cigarette won’t kill you, but too many might. But that’s true for a lot of things.

The Clock is Ticking: Demystifying Finance Recruiting

By Marius DeMartinoSTORY

This article was originally published on Sept. 28, 2022.

Most kids start their career aspirations imaginatively: They dream of being an astronaut, or of starring in a blockbuster movie when they grow up. Jake Lotreck ’25, however, had a diferent dream from the start. Exposed to fnance from an early age, he always wanted to be an actuary.

It’s fair to say that this is atypical for most and yet, by the time we graduate from Dartmouth, no small percentage of the would-be actors and astronauts turn into consultants and investment bankers. In the Class of 2021 Cap and Gown poll, the most common career path was trekked by the 27% of graduates heading on to careers in business and management consulting, with another 16% venturing into the world of fnance.

So what happened?

“Dartmouth has defnitely brought me towards fnance, given the amount of kids that are looking down that road,” Lotreck said. “Most people think about jobs early, which does bring a little stress but also gets me in a good mindset to not fall behind in professional development.”

At Dartmouth, you’re never more than a mutual friend away from a whitecollar hopeful.

Lotreck cited the infuence of the Dartmouth Investment and Philanthropy Program, or DIPP, in directing him towards fnance. Not only does DIPP “teach the technical skills to get a better grasp of the fnancial world,” as Lotreck said, but it also provides mentors for younger students through upperclassmen also in the program.

Hailey Mullen ’24, also a member of

DIPP, said that the program’s resources were instrumental in helping her down the path of investment banking.

“Once I started the actual recruiting process, I relied very heavily on the upperclassmen in DIPP,” she said. “I also got closer with a Dartmouth alum who was a second-year analyst at CitiBank and [they] became a really big mentor for me.”

While many students shoot for jobs in well-known felds like investment banking or management consulting, that’s not the case for everyone: Ilana Deykin ’23 described instead how she “stumbled upon healthcare consulting.”

A biology major and pre-med student, Deykin sees healthcare consulting as an opportunity to focus on “business problems of startups and pharmaceutical companies,” while still “engaging with the science of it.”

It’s easy to submit to the allure of fnance at Dartmouth, but the process of actually securing the job is no easy task. As early as their second year, students are already working on fnding internships for their junior summer.

Lotreck said he is bracing for recruiting to feel like “a fourth class,” but he said that “hopefully by the end of the spring I’ll have one or two internships lined up and be able to relax a little more.”

Currently on an of term and working at a private equity frm, Mullen is a bit deeper into the process and already has a plan laid out for the rest of her time at Dartmouth. After applying to programs as early as sophomore fall, she “ended up getting three or four interviews at banks [she] was interested in.”

While Mullen had an internship ofer from Morgan Stanley by March, the

preparation for it including interviews and studying technical information was a lot of work.

“Honestly, sophomore winter was miserable,” Mullen said. “For two or three months, that’s all I did, and I didn’t have that good of a social life, but I was willing to make that sacrifce because I knew [that] once I had that internship I was set.”

As a senior, Deykin can look back at her complete process. Luckily, because of her niche interest in healthcare consulting, she “was looking at a lot of

frms that others weren’t” a privilege she acknowledged and said made the process “honestly pretty painless.”

While Mullen and Lotreck see their frst investment banking jobs as stepping stones to “gain a lot of valuable experience,” Deykin is still unsure whether fnance or even medical school is her endgame. Unanimously, however, all the students I interviewed seemed undaunted by the years ahead.

“I’m happy to work hard the frst few years out of college if it’ll set me up for a good position later,” Mullen said.

Lotreck added that the grueling entrylevel analyst positions are also short-lived. “They only last for two to three years maximum, and they pay back later when you get a job with more fexibility when it really matters,” she said.

While the future for those entering fnance is uncertain, Mullen is relieved that the bulk of the work, for now, is out of the way. “You’re already going to end up in fnance, so now I can explore other passions and interests because I have more time,” she said. “My path is already paved.”

MAJA TELLANDER/THE DARTMOUTH

GABE QUEALY/THE DARTMOUTH