MIR ROR 4.5.2017
GUO: THE FIRST GOODBYE | 7
LIFE IN HIGH DEFINITION | 4-5
Q&A WITH PROFESSOR JAMES STANFORD | 3 ALANA BERNYS/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
2 //MIRR OR
Editors’ Note
Defining the world COLUMN
ELIZA MCDONOUGH/THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF
Everyone should have a favorite word. May’s favorite word is “saudade.” “Saudade” is a Portuguese and Galician word that makes its home primarily in the dark depths of May’s Spotify romance playlist. It is used to describe the feeling of a profound, possibly existential melancholic nostalgia for someone or something that is lost, an object of longing that will never return to us. It’s more than “I miss you.” It’s “You are gone, and sometimes I feel your absence so profoundly that my memory of you manifests almost synaesthetically.” (On that note, Lauren and Annette would like you to know that their favorite words are all four letters long and therefore cannot be printed in a respectable newspaper.) Anyway, May struggles to define “saudade,” partly because it is simultaneously bound up in notions of pleasure and pain, and mainly because the word lacks a direct translation in English. Words are malleable, potent, nuanced. Sometimes they defy translation, and sometimes they defy definition. The theme of this week’s issue is “Definitions” and follows the Mirror team on its exploration of the varied and complex meanings surrounding selfhood. This issue is an effort to navigate and reckon with the muddled territory of language and identity on campus. It will confront, question and reimagine dominant notions of “standard” language, regional identity, athletic affiliations and the role of college publications. In the realm of concrete realities, it will insist on the abstract — on the subtle, the indefinite, the abstruse, the fundamental nuance of the human experience.
follow @thedmirror 4.5.17 VOL. CLXXIV NO. 53 MIRROR EDITORS LAUREN BUDD ANNETTE DENEKAS MAY MANSOUR
ASSOCIATE MIRROR CAROLYN ZHOU EDITOR EDITOR-IN-CHIEF RAY LU
PUBLISHER PHILIP RASANSKY
EXECUTIVE EDITOR ERIN LEE
PHOTO EDITORS ELIZA MCDONOUGH HOLLYE SWINEHART TIFFANY ZHAI
By Elise Wien
I’m lost, a little, as to where I should start. I type into Google (friend, hero): “define definition.” Google gives me: def•i•ni•tion /defəˈniSH(ə)n/ noun (1) a statement of the exact meaning of a word, especially in a dictionary; (2) the degree of distinctness in outline of an object, image or sound, especially of an image in a photograph or on a screen. (2) defines (1), in that a definition draws attention to the definition of a word, takes a file to sharpen its edges and cast a light on it. Here, we see THE WORD, and just here, at this defined edge, we drop off into a zone that is NOT THE WORD. Definitions work on definitions like oceans on coastline, eroding, eroding, to specify the shore. This weekend I went to Ingo Günther’s “World Processor,” an exhibit on view at the Hood Downtown. In the exhibit, Günther attempts to visualize big data through over 30 illuminated globes that map out different statistics: CO2 emissions, GDP, global migration, maternal death rate and “statistical challenges” (he lists suicidal tendencies, lies told per hour and extramarital affairs among the difficult-tomeasure on this globe). A group of classmates and I walked around and considered how each of the globes were defined by certain statistics (or the absence thereof). In turn, our personal experiences defined which globes we saw as more important; the parts of the globes that held more definition for us. Here is what I thought: If the purpose of art is eliciting emotion, how is this exhibition supposed to make us feel? For the most part I feel guilty, as the U.S. dominates the globe’s tracking power, money, emissions and shrinks when it comes to hospitality or calmness. I feel lucky, I guess, to have food, internet, electricity, warmth. I feel undeserving. I once told a boy I had a crush on him, then later found out he was in a long-term relationship with someone else. The boy invited me to lunch in what I can, in retrospect, only imagine was an attempt to make himself seem as unattractive as possible. It came up in conversation that I was doing dramaturgical research to help a playwright imagine how to build a bunker. The play was about this plague that takes over a town, and one character is prepared with an underground bunker made out of an old storage container. The boy nodded like he understood. I said, “Oh, uh ... what?” The boy told me he would consider having a bunker to keep his family safe, to filter waste and grow food in anticipation of an inevitable resource war. Suddenly, the crush left my body with a violent speed, like a sneeze. I told him I didn’t think a resource war was coming, not here anyway. That the U.S. would take — by force if necessary — any of the resources other countries stockpiled, the fresh water, the grain, the medicine, as well as those which hadn’t been stockpiled. Come end times, a country doesn’t need a large agricultural budget if it has the largest military spending in the world. Why grow a carrot if you could steal one from the rabbit next door? Then kill the rabbit. Then eat the rabbit, too. Surely our country would let the whole world dry up before it let itself lose a drop. But what do I mean, “let itself ”? “It” is a piece of land. “It” conducts no diplomacy, makes no policy decisions. In parts of it, the resource war has already begun; in the parts that we don’t care about, it’s been raging for hundreds of years. But back to the globe and how it should make us feel. This is a globe with its eyes closed. Mostly in the dark, it can sense the presence of land masses and bodies of water, but it doesn’t try to trace their outlines. This globe is taking a breath, divorcing from the
onslaught of data, the geopolitical complexities of its tenants. In this, the globe is lying to itself. I had an argument with my father before I left for school. He waved me over to his office, where he was in a video call with a man whose software he was thinking of investing in. It was basically a desktop version of Google Drive that allowed for multiple windows, offline use and faster switching between applications. T H E M A N : “ T h ey d i d a t e s t at PricewaterhouseCoopers and found that it accelerated productivity for each employee an average of nine hours per month.” Later, in the car: ME: “Maybe instead of investing in something whose end game is to increase productivity, you could do microfinancing? Or socially responsible investing?” HIM: “Well there’s a lot to plan for. There was college, and we also have a certain amount set aside for grad school for you and your sisters, bat mitzvahs, weddings...” I tell him I am grateful, of course, that he’s provided so much for my sister and me. We’ve never had to worry about money. This is a gift, to be sure. I tell him that I want to see him at places other than his desk chair, in moods other than grumpy, that if it means retiring (he turns 65 this year), that could be what it takes. I tell him I am okay worrying about money if it means I get to see him happy, doing what he wants with his life. He says, “In some respects, it’s too late for me.” This is jarring. It’s not a new thought, but one that’s been on my mind a lot lately: what do we sacrifice when we prioritize financial prosperity? Peter Singer has an organization that urges individuals to donate 10 percent of their income to charities — long-term giving to eradicate poverty, disease, a first world reparation, a guilt bandaid, maybe. I calculate my paycheck next year minus 10 percent. Plus 10 percent. Minus 10 percent. I think of health problems of scarcity versus health problems of excess. Bulimia, depression. When we are so lucky to have access to good healthy food, and doctors, and dental care, we literally expel it from our systems like a foreign object. We are presented with four limbs that work and a family that loves us and all we can do is listen to Mitski and stare at a wall for hours? This is not to say that I don’t practice self-forgiveness. This is vital. It’s just alarming. Rationally alarming, you know? This clash between the data and how we live our lives. Lately I’ve been seeing — I’ve been making — a fair amount of art that purports to be art as or for activism, or social change, or what have you. The issues I face with this art is that it asks everything and nothing of its viewers. I start moving through the exhibition and it desperately makes me want to donate — to something — to eliminate the pain in my chest, begin to fill the hole of complicity, with gravel, cement, mud, the substance itself doesn’t exactly matter. Then I get to the globe of Foreign Aid (subtitle: a map of our guilt) and that globe, with all its lines that stick out so you want to touch them — (Start to touch.) PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH THE GLOBES. — does nothing to change the shape of all the others, which is to say, all these lines can coexist with such inequity (can even enforce dependence on global hegemons, in some cases), that what’s the point? So we close our eyes and reset and take a breath because we’re never going to be able to take on continents or oceans, but we can do our own work, 10 percent at a time, maybe, in data barely discernible on a mass scale, maybe data not called data at all.
MIRROR //3
Tour Guide: “This is Novack — where we have all the good stuff.”
’19: “Hold on, I need to steal something from DDS.”
’17 #1: “I had to Good Sam myself last night.” ’17 #2: “Sounds like you’re starting off senior spring.”
’18: “Sometimes I think I’m Harry Potter.”
’18: “Whenever I lose my ID and get a new one, I just ask to keep my old picture from freshman fall because I’ll never be able to recreate the youthful glow before I knew what college was really like.”
“Good” language: Q&A with professor James Stanford STORY
By Marie-Capucine Pineau-Valencienne
“Don’t judge a book by its cover.” We’ve all heard this. From a young age we are taught not to judge something or someone based simply of what we see. We are taught that things are not always as they seem and that sometimes the most boring and inconspicuous “covers” are doors into the very best books. But does this same rule apply to what we hear? Our use of language plays an important role in how we are perceived. It can indicate our education level or social class and give insight to where we’re from. Empty judgments may not be limited to physical appearance alone. Our use of what is considered “good” or “proper” language largely impacts not only how we are viewed, but may also be a determining factor in where we stand in society as a whole. Could it be that our modes of communication may actually be driving us apart? In order to better understand the social implications of language I looked to linguistics professor James Stanford, who studies sociolinguistics. What is “good” language? JS: What we find in linguistics is that there is no objective linguistic definition for that. These things are all socially constructed. It comes about through a variety of social and political and historical reasons. On linguistic subordination: There’s a principle called the principle of linguistic subordination which gets across the point that if a group is socially subordinate or socially disfavoured then the way they speak often comes to be viewed as socially subordinate or socially disfavoured. What’s interesting is that can happen for both groups — the socially dominant and the socially subordinate group can both view the subordinate’s group’s way of speaking as somehow less preferable. Often in disadvantaged minority groups — in the U.S. that’s often the case — one group views their way of speaking as better, and the group whose way of speaking is seen as not as good also comes to view their own speech as not correct somehow. On dialects: We all speak some kind of dialect. Every kind of way of speaking is a “variety” or dialect. Everybody has some way of speaking, and society views one or more ways maybe as better, but it’s not for an objective linguistic reason. What we find when we look at language as a system, at English grammar or pronunciation as a system, is that any dialect that’s learned as a child anywhere, any neighborhood in the world — if you learn that as a child it is a regular rule-based orderly linguistic system. As a child grows up, he or she might find that their way of speaking as better or worse, but that’s just a social distinction. In terms of the linguistics, when we look at the
structure, the grammar, there’s order and patterns. This was most famously analyzed by William Labov, a famous sociolinguist at [the University of Pennsylvania], and he showed in the ’60s, he looked at African American varieties of English and found these grammatical structures and patterns that were orderly and rule-based just as much as, say, the standard English taught in the school system. He testified before Congress and made a lot of significant improvement in the way people treat or respect different dialects of English. On the “standard” form: I often use the word “standard” in quotes, because it’s a social construct, but it matters. It’s not based on any linguistic reason but, socially, it matters. What we often find is that the version that’s viewed as the “standard” is one where the regionalisms or particular features that are particular to social groups (region, ethnicity or social class), when those things are leveled away and taken off, what’s left [is the standard]. It’s sort of a negative definition [of the standard form]. The standard is a spectrum, all the way from non-standard to standard, but what we find is that the varieties viewed most standard are typically ones that don’t have these stigmatized regionalisms or features that are particular to less preferred social groups. One way I think of the standard too is to say: “How would I want to talk in a job interview?” Whatever forms I would try to suppress would be the non-standard forms and what’s left is standard. That’s one way to think about it, but it’s socially defined. How I would want to speak in a job interview is different now than it was 100 years ago. On the “non-standard” form: It turns out that the non-standard varieties are actually often more systematic and regular than the standard. If you look at what’s happened though, it’s actually more regular and systematic than the standard variety. [Switching to “doesn’t” for he or she] is actually quite idiosyncratic. The “doesn’t” is an idiosyncratic rule based on earlier forms of English that had a more complex paradigm where each of these (I, we, they, he, she) had its own form. The only one that survived in modern day is the one for third person singular. We find that groups that use more non-standard forms — we call it leveling — level it off in a very similar way, even when they don’t have social contact. For example, you could have some form of urban London English with no contact at all with rural Alabama and they would have similar leveling patterns happening. So it’s not a matter of social contact, it’s something deeper having to do with cognition and also the way language tends
to regularize itself. have certain forms that sound southern, that If a kid goes to school at 5 years old and says, person is going to probably make sure that they “She don’t like this movie,” the teacher is likely to adjust their vowels and their grammar so they don’t correct the person, but what’s important in my field, have those regionalized features. Those things get sociolinguistics, is that there are certainly situations standardized across the country. where it’s valuable to use standard. Imagine you’re So what happens is, because language is in a job interview in Manhattan and you said, constantly changing, forms that are far on the “She don’t like this movie.” They’re going to look standard side get codified in the school system, down on you and they’re going to think, “This and the language continues to change naturally person went to Dartmouth College and they said but those changes are constantly being resisted. ‘She don’t like this movie,’ what is this?” but even It’s partly due to the fact that the written form of in your own mind you know there’s no objective English changes more slowly and then eventually linguistic reason. In fact, this is a more regular there’s enough momentum that an actual change and organized way of happens and moves into speaking, but they’re still the written form. going to perceive it was Pronoun Verb Phrase uneducated or lower On how class. language changes: We don’t One example of like this movie. Can language act this is using the word as a social divider? “they” as a generic They don’t JS: Absolutely. Yes, I pronoun. We have this like this movie. think you could see it as a issue in English because parallel to manners — it’s of social changes. You I don’t definitely a parallel to a lot don’t want to say, “If like this movie. of other social markers. anyone has a question You could say the people he should raise his hand,” He/She don’t that are aware of the because that sounds very like this movie. clothing styles changing bad nowadays because and who can afford them MAY MANSOUR/THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF it’s sexist. are then able to dress in In this example, the “standard” subject-verb What you should that way, in the same way agreement (i.e., “He doesn’t”) would be the say is, “If anyone has a that people that are aware idiosyncratic form. The non-standard dialect question he or she should of the idiosyncratic rules form proves simpler and more regular than raise his hand.” of standard English and the “standard.” What we actually who have the educational say is, “If anyone has a background can then access it. That’s an issue that question they should raise their hand.” comes up a lot, people talk about access to these We put in the word “they” quite frequently in forms. It is an advantage in the U.S. to grow up spoken English. Even though it’s a plural, it’s come in a community that uses the standard form, even to be used as a generic form that can be used as though there are actually a lot of idiosyncratic singular also because it solves this gender issue. rules, but it gives you a social advantage because What’s happening with “they” is we’re all saying you don’t have to relearn it later in life or in school. this all day long without really noticing ourselves, It definitely can be an advantage for young kids but then when you go to put it in writing and it’s if teachers are praising the way they speak rather like, “Wait a minute that’s plural, I can’t say that!” than criticizing them, especially if the teachers But recently some textbooks and English teachers aren’t aware of this issue with the idiosyncratic are starting to say that it would actually be good to rules and they portray it as a matter of intelligence let “they” become singular, because it solves these or incorrect speaking. That can be a problem for issues with gender and sexism. the child’s self-image at a young age, because the child grew up and is actually using a more logical The takeaway: system. All dialects or varieties of language are orderly logical systems. Anything that a child learns as a On how a form becomes subordinate: native speaker growing up is going to be logical Languages are constantly changing and so you — it’s just part of cognition and social psychology have certain forms that come to be codified by of human beings — but some forms are viewed the school system and by books and by teachers. as “better” than others, and it’s based on social, Or nowadays you think of broadcast news or historical and political reasons, not linguistic influential Internet sites where the news anchors reasons. are being very careful to avoid stigmatized forms. This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity So suppose a news anchor grew up in Texas and and length.
4// MIRROR
Life in High Definition: Photographers at Dartmout STORY
By Carolyn Zhou
For many, photography is a casual activity. The average person may take hundreds of photos a month on subjects ranging from the trivial, such as that plate of food from dinner, to the more serious, such as a picture of your newborn child. However, some people enjoy it so much that they decide to pursue photography even further. Some students, such as Will Allan ’18, Danny Berthe ’18 and Aaron Lit ‘19, young alumna Thienan Dang ’16 and professional school photographers Eli Burakian ’00 and Robert Gill, who are both employed by Dartmouth’s Office of Communications, commented on their roads to photography and the role it plays in their lives. For Burakian, photography was not a part of his life until he graduated college. However, starting in the early 2000s, it eventually evolved into his career. As one of Dartmouth’s two school photographers, he takes photos of every aspect of Dartmouth: students, faculty, visiting artists and speakers and scenery. Burakian’s beginning in photography stemmed from a trip to New Zealand after graduating Dartmouth in 2000. However, he did not immediately settle on photography as a career: he went on to work at the Lodj for three years and even tried consulting before he finally settled down with photography full-time. “I hope my example of finding photography after college shows that you don’t need to know what you want to do in college,” he said. “And that’s the whole point of liberal arts — Dartmouth is not vocational school. It’s training you to think critically.” Burakian’s winding path towards photography demonstrates that one can find one’s passions quite unexpectedly. For Lit, who has been doing photography since he was 10, photography sprang out of another seemingly unrelated hobby. Lit began photographing when he picked up scuba diving, an activity his father taught him. He started collecting a lot of photographs, which prompted him to publish a visual book to raise awareness about marine biodiversity. Currently, 25 of those photos are up on display in Haldeman
as an initiative through the Dickey Center. Unlike Burakian, who began photography after college, and Lit, who began as a precocious pre-teen, Gill, Dartmouth’s other school photographer, began in high school, at the encouragement of a teacher. According to Gill, he is one of that teacher’s three students who ultimately went on to pursue photography on a professional level. Dang also photographed in high school, but only as a casual creative outlet. She only started photographing people regularly when she got to Dartmouth and was not asked to take photos of events until her sophomore year. She mostly took photos of her friends and social gatherings, such as formals. Now that she’s graduated, she said that she has not had as much time nor opportunities to take photos but hopes to pick the camera back up soon. For film major Berthe, photography, while not his exact career choice, will still be useful in his desired career as a filmmaker. As he wants to write screenplays and direct films, he believes that photography will help him with the visual aspect of filmmaking. Similarly, Allan is pursuing an artistically inclined major: architecture. Allan remembers his first camera was on his first cell phone. All of these photographers, while at different stages in their lives and relationships with photography, must adapt to everchanging technologies. Burakian, who shot film photography for two years before moving to digital in 2003, commented on shifts in technology he has seen over his career. “Nowadays everyone takes photos, everyone’s a photographer,” Burakian said. “On one hand, it’s much more accessible, everyone’s more prolific … [with] the higher end gear, there’s so much less you need to know; everything autofocuses, there’s high enough resolution, there’s great dynamic range, really good low light.” However, as always, there are some slight downsides to new technology. “Between everyone having a camera in their phone and how with good cameras, if you put it in the green setting, 99 percent
COURTESY OF ROBERT GILL
of the time you’re going to come out with creatures to come out from wherever they’re a decent photo, it forces those of us in the hiding. And often, he has to guess which profession to make sure that your work equipment to bring underwater, since he stands out,” Burakian said. “Accessibility is switches between using a macro-lens and a great, and I’m glad that everyone’s taking fisheye lens (which are used for bigger things, photos, but it means great photos are lost a like coral reefs). Sometimes, he’ll have the little easier now, since there’s so many good macro-lens out to photograph something photos out there.” small, and a shark shows up. Burakian’s original intent was to be a stock Just as Lit has to have patience for sea photographer, since his true passion lies in creatures, photographers who primarily take photographing photos of people landscapes (he have to deal with is also an avid “Nowadays everyone’s a other challenges. hiker), but with photographer ... Accessibility “People change the existence of when they know is great, and I’m glad that companies like t h ey ’r e b e i n g S h u t t e r s t o c k everyone’s taking photos, but photographed” and iStock, that it means great photos are lost a Allan said. dream did not “While I’m trying become feasible. little easier now, since there’s so to shoot candids, O t h e r many good photos out there.” i f t h ey k n ow challenges in t h ey ’r e b e i n g photog raphy photographed, i t s e l f v a r y, -ELI BURAKIAN ’00, COLLEGE you can de pending on PHOTOGRAPHER definitely tell, the person and even if they’re the subjects a good actor. It they prefer to just changes the photograph. vibe of the photo.” Some challenges have to do with the actual Berthe has a clever trick to get people to implementation of the activity. For Lit, his calm down while he’s taking photos of them. main challenge is photographing underwater. “When you’re photographing people, He uses the same camera he uses on land but they want to appear a certain way,” he said. needs to use a case called a housing, which “They’ll say ‘take it from this side.’ One trick essentially is a metal box that wraps around I have is that I’ll pretend I have problems the camera when underwater. Another main with my camera, lower it, and as soon as difference is that he uses a macro-lens to they relax, I take a candid.” magnify the tiny creatures he photographs. Dang faces challenges in photographing Most of the creatures cannot be seen by the people as well, in a different context: formals. naked eye. Lit also needs strobe lights, which “I try not to capture people in a bad act as giant flashlights. As one goes deeper light, figuratively and literally,” Dang said. underwater, the color red disappears first, “Literally, you’re in a dark room. And then orange, then yellow. Once one is deep figuratively, you don’t want to take pictures enough, everything starts looking blue-green. that [your subjects] wouldn’t want on “If you’re underwater, to the naked eye, Facebook.” a coral looks purple, but once you shine a Despite having different subjects and light on it, you see that it’s actually red,” Lit focuses, all six of these photographers said. “Good lighting is essential for revealing probably face a shared challenge: finding the true colors of the creature.” originality and generating something new. Other challenges for Lit include waiting, “Dartmouth, in my opinion, has been for sometimes up to 30 minutes, for the photographed to death,” Berthe said.
COURTESY OF ELI BURAKIAN
MIRROR //5
th However, after speaking with Australian fashion photographer Peter Coulson while studying abroad in Germany, Berthe found that the way he looked at light changed, transforming his work. “When I came back I found myself being able to take much better photographs … I find the little spots where the light hits the right way, and you can see the fashion influence in my photographs now,” Berthe said. Gill, whose job is to photograph the school, explained some of the challenges in finding fresh ideas. “A challenge here is that things start becoming familiar,” Gill said. “Like [Baker lobby], how can I do something different, and do something I’ve never done before, even though I’ve been in this hallway a thousand times? You have to be open to that and not take any situation or place for granted.” Facing these challenges with procuring inventive work, all six photographers strive to reach higher goals beyond just snapping photos. Lit aspires to change our attitudes toward something he really cares about, the ocean. “There’s a disconnect between our lives and the underwater world,” Lit said. “In many ways we are connected, but we just don’t realize it. This literal alienation between us and the ocean leads to indifference.” Lit loves marine animals because of their beauty and diversity — we have only classified around three to four percent of all marine animals, and there’s still 95 percent of the ocean that remains unexplored. This is why he does underwater photography. “By revealing what lies underwater, I can sort of raise awareness about how our actions affect their world and create a greater sense of connection between us and fish,” he said. Gill also has focused part of his work on social commentary, specifically male body image. He completed a project where he gained a lot of weight on purpose and then lost it all quickly on purpose. He documented the process with his camera, mimicking before and after photography in advertising. In an ironic twist, the pictures have been stolen and used all over the world
for “sketchy” advertising purposes. “I find it interesting that the project keeps going on without me,” he reflected. Allan and Dang both photograph to find beauty in the various moments in our lives. Dang finds beauty in special occasions, like dances, while Allan finds beauty in things that seem ordinary or are typically looked over. “I enjoy highlighting and finding beauty in things that aren’t always looked at as beautiful or interesting things,” Allan said. “Very normal moments with your friends can turn into great photos. Or, for example, some people just see abandoned buildings as an eyesore, but I think they can be beautiful.” Similarly, Dang describes finding beauty in fleeting but special moments. “Sometimes, there are moments in which two people are dancing, and it seems as if there’s nobody else there, whether it’s due to the emotion in the photo or just the lighting of the photo,” Dang said. “I think that’s really cool, being the person able to take a picture of that.” According to Berthe, photography is an art just as much as painting and drawing. “There’s an agency photographer has in taking and editing pictures,” Berthe said. “Some people like to photograph such that it represents what they saw as accurately as possible. I try to infuse my opinions and views into the photograph such that anyone that sees it experiences the way I felt the moment.” This is why he enjoys photographing concerts — he photographs Green Key every year. Besides being a fan of the music, he likes being able to add his feelings of the artists into his photos. “If I think the artist is energetic, outgoing, like Raury, who is a lively performer, instead of photographing him in a solemn or conservative moment, I’ll try to showcase him in something that expresses his outgoing nature,” Berthe said. Being a photographer, his hobby sometimes does take away from his enjoyment of the event. “On one hand you want to experience what you have before you,” he said. “But you have a certain responsibility to take the moment down with your camera.”
COURTESY OF ELI BURAKIAN
COURTESY OF WILL ALLAN
COURTESY OF ROBERT GILL
COURTESY OF WILL ALLAN
6// MIRROR
The changing role of college journalism STORY
By Cristian Cano
My first exposure to The Dartmouth section when it should be occurred last summer. I was browsing the present elsewhere. newspaper’s website while researching the “ [ C o l l e g e potential student activities I might want n e w s p a p e r s ] d o n ’ t to join in the fall. The words “America’s understand that asking Oldest College Newspaper. Founded 1799.” t o u g h q u e s t i o n s i s appeared then as they do now, a continual not biased,” Sharlet reminder of the long history of student said. “Asking tough journalism at Dartmouth. When I began to questions is the work of write for the Mirror last September, I also a journalist.” became a part, however small, of that history. S h a r l e t also When I was asked to write an article about e m p h a s i z e d t h a t the changing role of student journalism at s t u d e n t j o u r n a l i s t s Dartmouth, I thought back to my excitement should take advantage at the possibility of contributing to something of guest speakers that much greater than myself. I thought about frequently come to the experiences I’ve had through The D: the Dartmouth. He said friendships I’ve formed, the places I’ve gone that, instead of simply and the articles of which I’m most proud. writing reports after Writing for a student newspaper is certainly speakers have already not easy, but I can confidently say that I’ve left campus, student had a great experience as a journalist for j o u r n a l i s t s s h o u l d The Dartmouth so far. prepare to interview I also thought of those who do not view them personally. The Dartmouth as positively as I do. Last fall, “[Student journalists] a survey conducted through Pulse, a student- have greater access to created online survey tool, asked students lots of significant figures to rate their opinions regarding a variety of than [non-students] Dartmouth institutions, one of which was because, if they come The Dartmouth. The scale ranged from to visit a campus, they very favorable to very unfavorable. From a really need to make time sample size of 1,196 students, the rounded for what’s happening on distribution of answers was: 8 percent very that campus,” Sharlet favorable, 36 percent favorable, 39 percent said. neither favorable nor unfavorable, 13 percent When asked how unfavorable and 4 percent very unfavorable. The Dartmouth might I’m in no position to evaluate the statistical i m p rove i t s i m a g e, validity of this survey, but I think it’s safe to Sharlet said that it is make one conclusion: not everyone likes The essential for the paper Dartmouth. to develop its own voice. Have students always viewed The He acknowledged that it ELIZA MCDONOUGH/THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF Dartmouth in this way? Is this a specific takes time for a student College newspapers face many of the same challenges as non-student publications, including The New York Times. case or a general trend? What might student journalist to improve their journalists do to improve the public opinion skills and write better stories, but eventually “Technology doesn’t ensure quality,” were prevalent in the newspaper while Benis of their publications? To find answers for that journalist will reach a point where Williams said. and Henrich were students. Local stories were these questions, I interviewed both current sources will reach out specifically when they That said, technology is one of the most still important too — Henrich remembers one Dartmouth professors and former staff want a story to be covered. significant differences that Toby Benis ’86 extreme example in which someone broke members of The Dartmouth. One last piece of advice he’d give student and Christian Henrich ’90 found, in separate into the dean of students’ office. Jeff Sharlet, journalist and professor journalists? Take a creative writing class – just interviews, between college journalism when Both alumni described the personal in the English department, believes that look at all of the professional journalists who they were students and college journalism growth that they developed as student college newspapers should resemble non- are also published authors. now. Both alumni were publishers of The journalists. Benis learned how to work well student publications in Mark Williams, Dartmouth when they were students. in a diverse team, as she did with the editors both quality and content. a film and media studies Benis, who is currently an English of The Dartmouth, and she also had the He listed student debt, “Investigative professor who teaches the professor at Saint Louis University, remarked opportunity to take a leadership position as s e x u a l a s s a u l t a n d journalism should course “U.S. Broadcast on how, with today’s technology, students no a woman at a time when the introduction of undocumented students and Electronic Journalism longer need to rely on student newspapers as coeducation was still quite recent. Henrich as topics that should be side by side with History,” said that, by their main source of news. On the contrary, carried both the writing and teamwork skills be covered in college human interest taking courses in writing students can both access and produce he developed at The Dartmouth with him newspapers. and journalism, students knowledge through other means. into his professional career. “Anything that’s in stories.” develop their attention to “Everyone’s a journalist now,” Benis said. After I conducted these interviews, I the New York Times or detail, their desire to ask “I’m sure that’s changed the way that the reflected yet again on the current state of student journalism at Dartmouth. The Washington Post should -JEFF SHARLET, new questions and their paper operates in campus culture.” be there in the student understanding of how Henrich, who now works as an attorney, Dartmouth may no longer be the sole source paper too,” Sharlet said. PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH discourse operates. noted that even the technology used by of news for students as it was decades ago “Investigative journalism S t u d e n t i n The Dartmouth has changed significantly. for technological reasons, but that does not should be side by side with his class produce both “I remember that we bought the first fax mean it cannot still establish its place as human interest stories.” traditional written work and multimedia machine, while I was publisher, that The an important aspect of student life. Like Sharlet continued to explain how student projects such as podcasts and videos. While Dartmouth had,” Henrich said. “At the time, many other college publications, there is journalism at The Dartmouth is reactionary, students may be interested in student that was high-tech.” much work that can be done to improve the in the sense that journalists wait for events newspapers that utilize multimedia in While technology has powerfully impacted paper, but with enough motivated, ambitious to happen or for administration to tell their productions, he warned that a clear the role of college journalism, some things journalists, there is nothing stopping The them what to cover. He said that student link cannot be made between increased haven’t changed much at all. Controversial Dartmouth from continually approaching newspapers tend to include coverage of technology use and improvements in student topics such as American politics and its full potential and improving the lives of more controversial topics only in the opinion publications. divestment from South African businesses students along the way.
The first goodbye COLUMN
MIRR OR //7
By Clara Guo
Retire (verb): to withdraw from one’s position or occupation; conclude one’s working or professional career. According to Merriam-Webster, I haven’t technically “retired” from figure skating. Skating was never my “occupation” or my “position” or my “career.” It was, conversely, the bane of my existence for quite a number of years. I dislocated my sacroiliac joint in sixth grade on an axel — a jump I had been consistently landing for years. I fractured my ankle on a double loop the year after and spent the next three months recovering off the ice, hobbling around on crutches. I spent the next five years in physical therapy for repeated sprains, tendinosis and nerve impingement. The day after my first (mild) concussion in freshman year of high school, I competed a junior long program. The hour after my second concussion in senior year, I drove 45 minutes to school, only to return home two hours later for the next week. But that was what I had signed up for; injuries are inherent in every sport. When I joined Dartmouth Figure Skating Club freshman fall, I wasn’t sure if my ankles could support four more years of jumping. They have — kind of. “Why didn’t you stop skating sooner if your ankles hurt so much?” I’ve been repeatedly asked. The answer was simple — because of my teammates. Last year was my first time traveling to Nationals. This year was my last. It’s been less than 24 hours since we’ve been back on campus, and I haven’t had enough time to fully process what the past four years of DFSC have meant to me. Skaters have seen my tears, fed my delirium and spurred my laughter. “How do you feel now that you’re done?” Relieved, I suppose. Relieved to move past a sport that does not allow me to physically heal. But, mostly, I feel a quiet sadness mixed with pride, as if I have retired a part of
outside Mohawk on the Foxtrot was effortless, smoothly transitioning into the slow kick upward before the inside step forward. Christiana and I are going to be coworkers next year, working alongside a DFSC alumna, Esther. I’m hoping we’ll all skate together sometime in the winter, perhaps in Boston Common. R i s e ( i n t r a n s i t i ve verb): to become heartened or elated; to increase in fervor or intensity; to come into being. W h e n Ju s t i n e f i r s t choreographed her program to “Rise Up,” she sought to embody Italy’s Carolina Kostner. “But I look nothing like her,” she said early winter term. She was right. She looked better. Years of synchronized skating before college and years of dancing with Sheba at Dartmouth had prepared her for the intensity ELIZA MCDONOUGH/THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF of Andra Day. my identity and handed it off to the next In less than a week, she had seamlessly generation. increased the difficulty of her footwork So here’s to the ’17s — a thank you: leading into her back camel combination Last (transitive verb): to continue in spin. Within a minute, she had mastered the existence or action as long as or longer than. A frame. I met Torri during organic chemistry How? We’re still not sure. at Harvard University the summer after Entertainer (noun): one who provides freshman year. I convinced her to join the entertainment | entertainment (noun): team sophomore year, and she’s been with something diverting or engaging, such as a us ever since. public performance. She was one of the first events of the When I hear, “NSYNC,” I think, “Justin competition early Saturday morning. She Timberlake,” and not “figure skating had been up since 5 a.m., trying to trick her program.” But John noticed the dearth of body into believing that 9:30 a.m. was actually boy-band music in intercollegiate figure noon. skating and took advantage of our love for “I compete better when it’s not super early,” (1) 90’s music and (2) boy bands. she explained. “And I’m done right after!” At one point last year, we wanted John to Torri’s movements were long, arms rock frosted tips. extending from her body after her first lutz Instead, John wore a satin-like white shirt in time with Etta James’ voice bellowing “At with bedazzling around a medium-sized V Last.” This year, Torri is one of our programming chairs. Without her, our team could not have bonded as quickly as it did. Grace (noun): a pleasing appearance or effect; ease and suppleness of movement or bearing. Before college, Christiana skated with Disney on Ice, performing, literally, all over the world. She had never missed a jump in her show programs during her gap year, landing doubles in wigs and long gowns. For Dartmouth, she competes in ice dance. It’s often noticeable when a freestyle skater who jumps and spins competes in ice dance. The extension is slightly bent, the upper body tips forward and backward, the foot that is brought into the other stretches too far and the back isn’t perfectly straight. But that isn’t the case with Christiana. She makes dancing look easy; her
(a relatively conservative costume for men’s figure skating). The East Coast had anticipated his program all weekend. The other six schools had no idea what was coming when John took his starting position in the middle of the ice. The first chords of “Bye Bye Bye” resonated through the speakers, and the crowd erupted. John hit music cues he had never hit before, including a spread eagle that featured both hands adventurously roaming along his body. He embodied “passion face.” Skaters from Boston University and Dartmouth stood when he finished. His program will be sorely missed. Sassy (adjective): vigorous, lively; distinctively smart and stylish. Maddy was our only skater who competed in five distinct events — the maximum number any competitor could enroll in. On Saturday, she was at the rink from 7:30 a.m. until 10:30 p.m. competing her two dances, one short program and one team maneuver. On Sunday, she stepped on ice at 11:30 a.m. for her Novice long program, wearing a sparkly red, purple, yellow and orange dress with a sheer back. Her hair was styled in her signature low side ponytail. “Our next skater represents Dartmouth College. Please welcome Madellena Thornton!” The entirety of DFSC yelled “Lone Pine” as we brought our hands up above our head. Maddy did the same — minus the yelling. Her Santana medley began, and her sass shined bright. She smiled throughout the whole three minutes, landing double after double jump, whipping her ponytail on Ina Bauers and moving her hips to crescendos. Standing ovation. Afterward, Maddy and I cried together in the locker room. Happy, emotional, cathartic, contagious crying punctuated with laughter and congratulations. It’s much too soon for goodbyes.
8// MIRROR
Defining lines PHOTO
By Ishaan Jajodia
Defining an athlete’s identity STORY
By Andrew Sosanya PHOTO
It isn’t difficult to identify athletes on campus. Typically, they travel in packs, fill the long tables on the dark side of the Class of ’53 Commons and proudly wear their gear everywhere they go. Of course, the general “athlete” category is separated into two groups: varsity and club. Although they may play the same sport, some club and varsity athletes lead very different lives on campus. For others, there isn’t a hint of discrepancy. When asked what he does on campus, Scott Bohn ’18 immediately responded, “hockey.” Bohn has been playing club hockey since freshman year, and he ascended to team captain his sophomore year. In addition to the 10 hours a week Bohn commits to club hockey, he works an oncampus job and devotes time to his fraternity. However, Bohn said that being a hockey player is the part of his identity of which he’s proudest on campus. If he ever need to make a choice, he would drop other activities for hockey. “I put work and time into it, and it’s become something,” Bohn said. “It’s a source of pride.”
Club rugby player Ethan Klaris ’20 believes that true love of the sport is something that some varsity athletes do not understand about club players. He said that working hard on the field without obligation is something that takes true dedication and passion. “On a varsity team, there is no wiggle room for level of commitment,” Klaris said. “On a club team, you get out what you put in.” An athlete’s friend group is often composed of other athletes, typically a result of spending much time together. However, varsity basketball player Gabrielle Hunter ’20 said that she wishes her friend group was more diverse. Her friends are mainly comprised of three categories: the team, her dorm mates and members of the black community on campus. “With the lack of time to extend out further into the community, I’ve made immediate connections with those who were around me the most,” Hunter said. It’s no secret that varsity teams permeate specific fraternities and sororities. James Sullivan ’20 , a varsity lacrosse player, has several teammates in Theta Delta Chi
fraternity. “Having teammates that are in [TDX] makes me more comfortable going there,” Sullivan said. Bohn said that although he and his teammates have a more diverse friend circle, some of the greatest friends he has on campus are people with whom he shares the ice. However, some athletes feel that others see them as one-dimensional and that their sport is their whole identity. Although she spends 12 to 16 hours a week practicing, varsity rower Becca Thomson ’20 said that she consciously avoids being pigeonholed into the persona of just a “rower.” She’s also a member of the Dartmouth Wind Ensemble and a prospective engineering major. “I’m proud to be on the crew team, but I don’t want that to be my defining factor [of my identity],” Thomson said. With varsity sports consuming as many as 30 to 35 hours per week, an athlete’s Dartmouth experiences often revolve around his or her sport. Hunter said that due to time commitments, it’s difficult to be more than just “an athlete.”
“I find it hard to extend my identity on campus past basketball,” Hunter said. Sullivan said that athletes are often judged for simply being athletes. He recalled a time on campus when a student described him as someone “who looks like a douche, but actually is a really nice guy.” “It gives people a perceived idea of who I am that isn’t true,” Sullivan said. “There are stereotypes that come along with the territory.” Hunter said that one of the best perks participating in varsity sports rather than club sports is having a guaranteed social circle. “Transitioning into school, you have immediate friends and a support group,” Hunter said. Both club and varsity athletes struggle to balance academics and athletics. Varsity rower Sophie Palmer ’20 said that there are times when she feels more like an athlete than a student, especially during the season of her sport. “As an athlete, although you have less time, you spend more time being productive in general,” Palmer said. “But you can’t be on top of everything all the time.”