The Dartmouth 10/30/2019

MIRROR 10.30.19

THE CRAZIEST TRADITION 5

TURNING THE PAGE 6

SHEDDING LIGHT 8 SOPHIE BAILEY /THE DARTMOUTH

2// MIRR OR

Editors’ Note

CHaD Hero Makes Strides STORY

DIVYA KOPALLE/THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF

From Dartmouth’s cult-like ceremonies, such as the Bonfire and Candlelight ceremony, to its quirky student challenges, like the polar plunge or Lou’s challenge, the College sets itself apart through its unique traditions. However, we cannot ignore the fact that many traditions at the College have not been paid the respect they deserve. Dartmouth stands on Abenaki land, yet for the much of the College’s history, it largely failed to uphold its commitment to Native individuals: Between 1769 and 1969, the College graduated just 19 Native students.

This week, the Mirror profiles one of the most successful commitments to increasing awareness of cultural traditions yet seen at the College: Indigenous Peoples’ month. We also tell the story of the Diwali festival of lights celebration that happened this past weekend and examine Dartmouth’s long tradition of bringing political candidates to campus in the fall before election season.

Whether or not you choose to partake in traditions specifically associated with Dartmouth, or to celebrate traditions associated with your heritage — or if you embrace a mix of both — the fact remains that members of our community, and the world at large, are inextricably linked by tradition. It only makes sense to educate yourself about the concept, and to pay respect to the many traditions that make each and every one of us the unique and vibrant versions of who we are.

follow @thedmirror

10.30.19 VOL. CLXXVI NO. 92 EDITOR-IN-CHIEF DEBORA HYEMIN HAN PUBLISHER AIDAN SHEINBERG MIRROR EDITORS KYLEE SIBILIA NOVI ZHUKOVSKY COPY EDITOR JULIAN NATHAN ISSUE LAYOUT GRANT PINKSTON

By Kate Yuan

The Children’s Hospital at Dartmouth-Hitchcock is located just about three miles from campus. While students might attend workshops or lectures there, the annual CHaD Hero Fundraiser brings the spirit of the community to Dartmouth through a fun and meaningful tradition. The 2019 CHaD Hero took place on Sunday, Oct. 20.

This annual fundraiser has evolved from when it first started in 2006.

During its first year, there was only one event — the half marathon. The fundraiser has grown to consist of a half-marathon, a 5k run, a one-mile fun run, a 5k walk, a 5-mile wooded hike, and a 25-or 50-mile bike ride.

This year, the fundraiser garnered over $800,000, and donations are still coming in.

With over 1,000 participants, the top individual fundraiser was Saheer Mathrani ’20, for the third year in a row. Mathrani first became involved in the CHaD HERO his sophomore year through his fraternity, but said that he has been involved with pediatric care since elementary school.

“Pediatric medicine is pretty important to me. I’ve had a few encounters — familial and friends that I care a lot about, so I decided to go pretty hard the first year,” Mathrani said. “It’s motivated me to keep on fundraising for years to come.”

Since Mathrani has become involved in the fundraiser, he said that a primary goal of his has been to increase undergraduate, especially first-year, participation.

“While fundraising myself is cool, I’m lucky that my parents have benevolent friends who are able to donate to charities,” Mathrani said. “I feel like I’ve put a lot more work into this freshman program, and getting some type of ripple effect has been really rewarding.”

While Mathrani is a veteran participant of the CHaD HERO, and now is a member of the executive committee that plans the course and organizes the fundraiser, there were several first-time participants. Among them was Sylvia Hipp ’22.

GRACE QU/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF

Hipp said running a half-marathon has always been a goal for her, especially since she was a runner in high school.

She began training over the summer with a friend for this race. As a firstyear, she had not known that the CHad HERO was happening until the day of, and said she was happy to be able to participate in it this year.

“Fundraising was a cool part that I did not know how to do, but I put it up on Facebook and ended up raising more than my goal,” Hipp said. “I got a lot of responses from family members that I wasn’t really expecting, which was really nice.”

This CHaD HERO will be memorable for Hipp as her first halfmarathon, but she said that she plans on participating again next year. After seeing the support from her friends and family from just one week, she said believes she will be able to raise even more money in the future.

Several of Dartmouth’s athletic teams came to support the participants.

Among them was Mikala Uter ’23, a member of the Dartmouth cheerleading team. They moved around, cheering on the runners, and eventually lined up by the end of the course to watch the participants finish.

“Dartmouth is known for being the center of everything in the area, but it’s

more than just the setting itself,” Uter said. “Witnessing everyone — faculty, alumni, parents, families — coming together to support such a great cause was beautiful to see.”

An especially memorable sight for Uter was watching the kids finish the race, and she said that this is something she hopes she can do again in the years to come.

“It was an amazing experience — seeing the capes flying all around their little bodies and the big smiles on their faces,” Uter said.

In addition to the races, East Wheelock Street was blocked off for the many festivities that came along with the event. Food stands and activities were set up for people of all ages to enjoy. A capella groups performed, and kids could ride on animatronic animals, making the street busy with a bustle of activities.

The CHaD HERO fundraiser has grown immensely since its birth in 2006, and according to Mathrani, he sees continued expansion and growth in the coming years. This is due largely in part of first-time attendees like Hipp, who find the experience rewarding and become motivated to participate in the future, Mathrani said.

“It really captures the spirit of the school and the community,” Hipp said.

MIRR OR //3

Q&A with Religion Professor Timothy Baker Q&A

By Arianna Khan

At Dartmouth, we’re steeped in tradition. Whether it’s through big things like attending First-Year Trips or circling the Homecoming bonfire, or small ones like hearing the bells of Baker Tower play the alma mater every day at 6 p.m., we are constantly reminded that we are part of a larger community as we engage with the many rituals that foster commonality among our diverse experiences. As a community, we are well aware of this; we speak of tradition as one of Dartmouth’s major values, and we tend to refer to our many traditions with affection, excitement and pride.

In fact, our traditions are so prevalent that we sometimes joke that Dartmouth is a religion. Yet despite religion being in some ways the ultimate tradition, our engagement with the topic typically ends here; religion tends not to come to mind when we talk about tradition at Dartmouth. To address this aspect of tradition, I spoke to religion professor Timothy Baker about his work.

Baker teaches in the religion department and also serves as Assistant Dean of the Faculty and faculty advisor for the Humanities Living and Learning Community. His studies include work on late antique and medieval religious history and manuscript traditions, though he also conducts research on

practices of becoming more like God, sacred spaces, and ideas of connection and compassion among members of a community.

Can you talk a little bit about what you’re currently researching and why it interests you?

TB: I’m interested in all sorts of things.

I’m kind of naturally curious, but I’m particularly interested right now in three main topics. One is how people seek to become like God, whatever that means, broadly construed. So, ideas of ascension or apotheosis or transformation or transfiguration. I’m interested in that space of becoming great or trying to become greater than oneself. I’m also interested in the way in which people negotiate space and whether that’s a physical space, like a church or a monastery, or an imagined space, kind of thinking of oneself as a temple to God or thinking of the community as a church of living stones. I’m interested in the way in which sacred spaces are constructed and maintained, and the boundaries between the sacred and the profane.

I’m particularly interested in ideas of connection and compassion among members of a community. How monastic brothers relate to each other and to their work, and to their community, or how lay

COURTESY OF TIMOTHY BAKER

brethren relate to the priesthood or how Jewish communities relate to Christian communities — whether they do or do not — and what the limits of that kind of negotiation may be in the Middle Ages. Also, how human beings relate to God and how they think about their connection to the divine and how they embody that connection or maintain that connection. And that idea of connection — and in the classical sense, that idea of compassion — of suffering with someone else, of connecting to someone by suffering with them or engaging with them in that degree of shared common divinity and humanity really interests me both in the Middle Ages, which is where I spend most of my time, in monastic communities and Jewish communities in the Middle Ages, but also just generally speaking as we think about what compassion looks like in practice, what it looks like biochemically, what it looks like in the historical record, in records of narrative tales, poetry, art, music, and also just how we think about that throughout time.

The idea of becoming like God sounds fascinating, but also counterintuitive. Can you unpack that a little bit more?

TB: To me it’s one of those particularly fascinating things, this idea of ascending into God, because it has different kinds of resonances and different kinds of meanings over time. There can be this way of thinking about the relationship between heaven and earth as starkly divided, that God kind of sits upstairs on his throne and that we sit down here and that God doesn’t bother us and we don’t bother God and we have no connection whatsoever. The medieval mindset, which is coming out of a classical mindset, doesn’t really think of that boundary as being so distinct. Most people know about medieval people thinking about things like fairies and sprites and gnomes and elves and things like that, and all that notwithstanding, the idea really is that there is a fairly thin veil between our world and the world of the dead or our world and the world of these kinds of supernatural beings, whether they be local beings like sprites

or supernatural beings like divinities, or like God, if we’re talking about a purely Christian context. There is this thinness.

Then, the question becomes, what do we do with this thinness, and what is the whole point of being a religious person or doing anything?

For the most part, if I’m, you know, a standard lay person, a standard peasant, I’m probably just interested in if I am going to be okay and is the Lord going to be taking care of me — Lord here both in the sense of the feudal Lord and in the sense of the divine Lord that I’m thinking of as a kind of feudal Lord — that I give stuff to him and he protects me kind of thing. In that sense, it’s like, okay, I’ll do my thing, I’ll go to church, I’ll be part of the community. The priest will take care of me. The priest will act as the person who’s praying and interceding on my behalf. And then I can work the land and the knights can go out and fight. And while they’re fighting and I’m working, the priests are praying on behalf of both of us and that’s good enough.

But you also have this subset of the population, particularly within the contemplative orders and the monastic orders that want more out of that experience. They then take on more of a philosophical mindset and they’re thinking, what does it mean to be a religious person or to be created in the image of God or to move toward that kind of space? And they started talking in terms of becoming God, or becoming like God, which just struck me as being really fascinating, and I want to know more about what does it mean when a monk says that okay, you do this, you do X and Y and Z and you become God. That seems terribly unusual for a Christian to say. And it turns out that it’s not, but it comes with a certain kind of caveat, or potentially for our purposes, a drawback or something like that. Which is to say that when these monks think about becoming like God, they think about it as becoming so much like Jesus vis-à-vis a particular reading of Paul, that they lose their distinction and their individuality as Tim or Arianna, and they become God. Which is to say that insofar as one gives oneself totally to the Godhead, one becomes God. In that

sense, you are God, but you are also no longer you in the sense that all the kinds of particularities that make you tick, that make you think about things and do things and act in certain ways that are mediated by your own desires, are now washed away. Because by becoming God, you desire what God desires. And you act like God acts.

One way that people often construe religion is through the lens of tradition and ritual. How do you think those concepts play a role in religion?

TB: So, there are certain kinds of rituals and everyone knows the different kinds of things that one does. There are various specific rituals: weddings and funerals and confirmations and Eucharistic celebrations and masses and things.

Those are all particular kinds of rituals of particular kinds of groups. But I’m really interested in, or I’d like to have my students think more about, what those rituals negotiate in terms of agency — personal agency, communal agency and interpersonal agency. What do we have as our expectations for ourselves?

What do we have as our expectations for each other? What do we have as our expectation for the community as a whole? Because I think these translate into what it is that we’re thinking, or what they’re thinking, or our monks are thinking, or our nuns are thinking when they’re trying to perform their ritual in terms of what are they doing, and why is that important, and why is that valuable to them? And why did they construct it that way? And why do they say what they say and do what they do and create a tradition when they create a tradition and locate a tradition that they’ve just created as part of a longstanding tradition that’s not actually true, but that they created? Why is it so important to create narratives and to structure narratives that way? And I think that we can think about that in terms of what they might’ve been thinking or what they might’ve been doing based on what it is that we see.

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

Shaking Hands and Kissing Babies 4// MIRR OR

STORY

By Allison Falco

Before coming to Dartmouth, is a purple state, so they’re going meeting a political candidate was to be here anyway A) to win the never on my radar. Candidates primary and B) to come back to are rarely eager to come to my try to win New Hampshire in the small town in Florida. Suddenly, general,” Smith said. however, in my first two months as College Democrats member a Dartmouth student, I have shaken Madeleine Bernardeau ’22, echoed Bernie Sanders’ hand and hugged this in her description of New Elizabeth Warren. Other students Hampshire’s importance in the have had candid conversations presidential race. She referenced with Michael the common B e n n e t a n d "There are voters in saying that the C o r y B o o k e r. road to the White As the nation’s New Hampshire who House runs primary election won't even consider t h ro u g h N e w approaches, due voting for a candidate Hampshire, candidates are to our role in the m a t e r i a l i z i n g until they've shaken primary. on campus, and their hand four times." more are sure Dartmouth to appear. This is particularly p r a c t i c e h a s -RILEY GORDON '22 attractive been in place to political since 1964, candidates when New York seeking young Governor Nelson A. Rockefeller voters. Dartmouth being a well’30 came back to Dartmouth to known institution in an early voting campaign in the New Hampshire presidential primary state is a big primary. draw for candidates, Gordon said.

New Hampshire holds the first“Candidates want to be involved in-the-nation primary, which makes with young people, and they’ve visiting it a priority for political hit the jackpot with Dartmouth,” candidates. New Hampshire voters Gordon said. are particularly advantaged when Smith pointed out that the votes it comes to meeting political of Dartmouth students could make candidates, according to Riley or break a candidate’s election, Gordon ’22, president of the citing New Hampshire Senator Dartmouth College Democrats.

Maggie Hassan’s 2016 election as “T here are voter s in New an example. She won by close to Hampshire that talk about how one thousand votes, a number that they won’t even consider voting for could essentially be represented a candidate until they’ve shaken by voting Dartmouth students. their hand four times,” Gordon said. Because of this, Smith reaffirms, “That’s something that no one in candidates see the importance of any state other than Iowa can say.” courting student voters.

Accoeding to College Democrats T h e re l at i o n s h i p b e t we e n member Katie Smith ’22, New candidates and Dartmouth students Hampshire voters have more is mutually beneficial. Students are encounters with political candidates given the opportunity to personally than most citizens. She explained interact with political candidates, that New Hampshire is a “purple which is advantageous in a number state,” meaning there is a similar of ways. n u m b e r o f Re p u b l i c a n a n d “For us, it’s a good opportunity to Democratic voters, so candidates get candidates to answer questions are bound to come to sway the color that come from all these different scale toward red or blue. per spectives that Dartmouth “New Hampshire in and of itself students have based on where

they’re from and what they’re studying. It’s a really high tier of political discourse that happens among Dartmouth students and political candidates,” Gordon said.

Claire Azar ’22, Secretary of the Dartmouth College Republicans wrote in an email statement that she believes that the presence of political candidates on campus is greatly beneficial to Dartmouth students.

“Through this tradition of bringing candidates from both sides of the aisle, the Dartmouth community has the chance to learn and engage from listening to a diversity of viewpoints. Something I think is very important for young adults.”

Even for students who are less politically active, the interaction between Dartmouth students and political candidates can ignite a g reater interest in politics, according to Bernardeau.

“It’s really great to see how

many people will come out to these things who aren’t super politically active. They’ll come just because it’s cool and they’ll end up liking their ideas,” Bernardeau said.

Ber nardeau explained that candidate visits can greatly affect the opinions of students. She said that for some students, it can mean the difference between voting for a candidate or not considering them at all.

Gordon said he believes that going to a candidate’s event is an opportunity for students to bring an issue they are passionate about to the attention of senators and governors, or even the next president, and make a meaningful difference. Even if the visiting candidate is not polling well, Gordon encourages students to go to their events.

“I would recommend coming to see some of these candidates that are polling lower. When Michael Bennett came, he talked for 20

minutes and then took unfiltered questions from the crowd. He’s a United States senator who’s just taking questions ... It’s insane — he’s a senator!” Gordon said.

T he tradition of political candidates coming to campus has, at times, provided students with political oportunities. In the ’08 election, Gordon recalled, Dartmouth held a debate for the candidates. An alumni from the Class of 2011 stood in for one of the candidates during the lighting check because he was the right height. Another Dartmouth student was put in the spotlight after Jay Inslee visited campus.

“The president of Dems in the winter asked Inslee a question or said something to him. On CNN two nights later, he said ‘Oh I met this student at Dartmouth who said this.’ He is the governor of Washington quoting a Dartmouth student on national television on CNN,” Gordon said.

GRACIE GOODWIN /THE DARTMOUTH

Dartmouth's Craziest Tradition: The Fifty STORY

MIRR OR //5

By Charlie Ciporin

Hallucinations, trench foot and intense sleep deprivation only touch the surface of the topics of conversation surrounding the legendary Dartmouth hiking event, The Fifty. A trek of 54 miles from the Moosilauke Ravine Lodge back to campus would be hard enough on its own; completing it over the course of roughly 30 hours without stopping to sleep seems downright insane. Yet many people on campus seem to have a lot of respect for this strange tradition, and even more seem to want to participate; it’s oversubscribed each term, and students have to be selected via lottery, according to co-director Mary Joy ’21.

When I first heard about The Fifty, I had just decided to enroll at Dartmouth. I was talking to an alumnus friend who brought it up as one of the College’s staple traditions.

I had no desire to participate, and I thought the only ones who did would be the most seasoned and experienced of the DOC, with intense mileage and extreme conditions under their belt.

Joy, one of three directors of The Fifty this term, emphasized that my previous perceptions were not the case.

“You get a lot of people who aren’t really involved in the DOC, or don’t really do a ton of outdoors stuff per community. Hikers come back with se, but who relish the challenge. And stories of intense hallucinations and I think that’s kind of what The Fifty crazed mindsets, both of which have is: it’s a way to appeal to the greater come to characterize the event. Jones campus and be like, ‘The outdoors is wholeheartedly confirmed the rumors.

“Hallucinating? Absolutely,” Jones this really cool thing.’” said. “Not in the Lauren Jones that I think they ’20 is one of those "Dartmouth people way hype it up to be, like people. She said she had never seen are really motivated. seeing people, or seeing crazy things. herself as very They hear about a When we were o utd o o r s y, bu t walking, I would once her friends challenge and go, 'I see trees looking like convinced her to wanna do that!'" things.” sign up with them, J o y, who she quickly got on -MARY JOY '21 participated as a board. hiker last year, had a “I think [the similar experience, Fifty] does still have that same air of Trips,” Jones said. explaining how she had a lengthy “Like, having fun outdoors while doing discussion with her friend while on something with people, and enjoying the trail, only to suddenly realize her yourself, and interacting with the friend wasn’t even with her. She also recounted that her lack of sleep didn’t Dartmouth community.”

The Fifty is legendary within this stop at her hike. As a director, she had

NATALIE DAMERON/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF

similar amounts of sleep deprivation.

“Directing it, you have a very similar thing because you also don’t sleep, I think for a couple more nights, because you’re just trying to get everything together,” Joy said.

As logistics director, Joy said she was in charge of coordinating with the Outdoor Programs Office to secure necessities for the hikers, like food and gear. Two other directors, Ted Northup ’21 and Katie McCabe ’21 organized the specifics of the hike and the support crews. From directing the trip, Joy said she was able to get to know the inner workings of the DOC and the event she had grown to love from the year before, even learning about its origins in Dartmouth’s history. According to Joy, the Fifty originated from an idea from Sherman Adams, a member of the Class of 1920 and the founder of Cabin and Trail. The hike is based on what he called “long walks,” where one day Adams decided to walk 83 miles

without stopping.

Madi Duhnoski ’23, who supported hikers doing The Fifty this term by cheering for them and bringing them food at rest stations, agreed that much of the appeal behind it has to do with tradition at the College.

“I’d say it’s a combination of being wacky and being super outdoorsy, and it’s just a part of Dartmouth culture.”

Duhnoski said that while she and the rest of the support team didn’t bond as much as the hikers probably did, she still made a great group of friends that will last throughout her time at Dartmouth. Many crew members support the hikers because it gives them an increased chance of being selected to hike in the future, according to Joy. However, Duhnoski said that hiking the Fifty in the future was not her primary motivation for supporting. However, after supporting the hike, she said she is now more open to completing it than she was before.

“I did it super spontaneously,” Duhnoski said. “I’m still not 100 percent set on it, but there’s the possibility of me wanting to do it in the future now, whereas before I would never.”

The Fifty usually makes no sense to people outside of this community; why would someone want to put themselves through all of the pain and tiredness that comes with such a feat? But within the community, those who completed the hike wear it like a badge of honor.

When I asked Joy why she thinks the event is so popular here, she said that she thinks it has something to do with the kind of people who attend Dartmouth.

“Dartmouth people are really motivated,” Joy said. “They hear about a challenge and go, ‘I wanna do that!’

It’s this attitude that makes something as crazy as The Fifty a reality here, and what makes this school such a unique place.”

6 // MIRR OR

Turning the Page STORY

Lucas Joshi

From a frybread baking contest to a panel on climate change, Indigenous Peoples’ Month at the College depicts a myriad of events centered on culture, collaboration and current issues. The month-long celebration also represents a feeling of community belonging.

“I am a member of the Curyung Tribe in Alaska, but even here in Hanover, I see myself in this community,” said Kylee Sifsof ’23. “The people here are so proud to be Native, and that is so great to see. I felt so happy, so represented.”

Noting the diversity of Indigenous cultures represented in the programming occurring this month, Sifsof discussed the greater sense of community within the Native student body.

“Until seeing all of the events, I didn’t realize all of the different types of Indigenous people here on campus,” Sifsof said.

She added that she had been able to meet Abenaki people while attending

some of the month’s festivities. Sifsof said that because Dartmouth is built upon Abenaki land, meeting Abenaki people inspired a feeling of gratitude in her toward the Indigenous communities specific to the Upper Valley.

Isabelle Wilson ’23 also shared her appreciation for the month and its representation of diverse Native cultures. Wilson is currently taking NAS 08, “Perspectives in Native American Studies,” and she said that she wanted to take the class partially because of the opportunity to learn more about her Indigenous heritage.

“Where I come from, I never felt I had the opportunity to explore the Native American background in my family,” Wilson said, noting that discussions she has had in the course have expanded her perspective on the diversity of Indigenous backgrounds within the College.

Wilson also discussed how her Native great-grandfather was forced to change

SAMANTHA BURACK AND BELLA JACOBY/THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF

his last name from Deal to Dale to make it easier for Americans to pronounce, resulting in part of her family’s heritage being lost. From readings and discussions in her “Perspective in Native American Studies” class, though she said she felt a greater connection both to the Indigenous culture showcased on campus this month and the Indigenous heritage in her life.

Wilson noted that her “Perspectives in Native American Studies” course focuses less on the history of Native communities in the United States and more upon the ideological development that propelled European empires’ drive to dominate Native societies.

“In that way, this course really does apply to other Dartmouth classes surrounding culture and traditional heritage,” Wilson said, adding that the idea of cultural domination permeates many other regions of the world.

Co-president of Native Americans at Dartmouth Onaleece Colegrove ’20 agreed that courses in the Native American Studies program have applications in courses about culture and tradition in other departments. She also reflected on Indigenous Peoples’ Month’s purpose of bringing a greater awareness of Native culture to the Dartmouth community.

“At the end of the day, Indigenous

Peoples’ Month celebrates cultural diversity and works to raise awareness for our community on campus,” Colegrove said, adding that the month-long celebration at the College first began as a singular day, before becoming a weeklong celebration and then eventually lasting for an entire month.

While the recognition and celebration of Indigenous Peoples’ Month has increased in recent years, Colegrove noted that the idea of a calling Indigenous Peoples’ Month a “new tradition” at Dartmouth fails to acknowledge the longstanding history of nonrecognition for Indigenous people and Indigenous culture. However, she also said that Indigenous Peoples’ Month could become more of a tradition in the future.

“There needs to be more time before the celebration of Indigenous Peoples’ Month on campus can be called a ‘new tradition,’ but it definitely has the potential to do so at Dartmouth,” Colegrove said.

According to Colegrove, NAD partnered with Hokupa’a, the Hawai’i Club at Dartmouth, and student organizers from the Native American Program to develop the month-long recognition of Indigenous culture. The various events required both planning and organization, as well as continuous student oversight as the events progress,

according to Colegrove.

Colegrove emphasized that the recognition of Indigenous people cannot end when the last event concludes; Dartmouth holds a responsibility in continuing to increase awareness of Indigenous culture.

“Dartmouth has many [academic] requirements for its students right now, but there is not one for a course in the program of Native Americans Studies,” Colegrove said.

She emphasized that the College should consider expanding the program into a full department and funding more professorships. Colegrove also said that a requirement for all students to take a class on the culture of Indigenous people would increase awareness of Dartmouth’s own Native community.

Another small step Dartmouth could take to increase its recognition of Indigenous culture, according to Colegrove, would be to go one step further than de-recognizing Columbus Day. “The College no longer recognizes Columbus Day, though it does not officially recognize Indigenous Peoples’ Day, either. To continue the progress, Dartmouth must officially recognize Indigenous Peoples’ Day on campus and throughout its diverse community,” Colegrove said.

MIRR OR //7

TTLG: Actually, Can We Not Do That?

TTLG

By Arunav Jain

Traditions are one of those facts of life that are always on precarious footing. The more I think about them, the less I like them, and the whole enterprise starts unraveling. If I’m at a family gathering with an aunt who really wants to know my employment status and an uncle who cannot stop giving me advice on a topic he knows nothing about, and I start thinking, “Wait, why do we come together each December when we don’t even really like each oth–,” I have to tell myself to stop. I don’t want to entertain that thought because that is just going to ruin the whole shindig to my own detriment. I’ll know the tradition is bulls—t, maybe even silently laugh at everyone’s spurious antics, but I would still have to show up every year looking stupid and ugly.

So, is there any point in questioning tradition? Do I accept that it has some obscure value that I am not quite equipped to see currently and that I should just wait for it to unveil itself 15 years from now? Do I invent some rationale that makes the deed bearable? Or do I just stay clear of introspection?

Of course, the kind of tradition I am talking about here is of a specific variety: the kind you buy into via your family. These customs entail the events you have to organize; the appearances you have to make; the tasks you have to perform. Wiggling your way out of these traditions is invariably difficult, and I believe most people just acquiesce in their unavoidability. Some of these are, in the grand scheme of things, entirely nugatory — a party every December can’t truly hurt — but some have far wider-reaching consequences.

I’ll leave you to think of some examples of the latter, simply because I cannot even begin to dismantle and discuss those kinds of traditions in this space.

In essence, there are “traditions” that you are born into and exercise little control over, like silly things your family does, but also traditions that perpetuate horrible things the system prescribes. You could theoretically mutiny against such customs, but most of us know that in practice the process

of rebellion is wholly terrifying, slow and indefinite.

So let’s put those traditions away for now. Let’s switch directions and narrow the scope. I want to talk about the traditions that you can walk out on.

Like those at Dartmouth.

There are so many traditions at Dartmouth that we unconsciously take part in without even considering the fact that they’re not particularly fun.

Going out and dancing to ill-advised trap music in soiled frat basements every Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday immediately comes to mind. Friday, I get it. Saturday, I think I get it. But Wednesday? Really? How could a Wednesday ever seem exciting enough for a night out? There could not be a more unremarkable, unexceptional day than Wednesday. For all I know, Wednesday is just Tuesday in disguise just like Tuesday is Monday in disguise and Monday is Thursday in disguise.

But somehow, most of us buy into the tradition of going out literally in the middle of the working week, and I don’t think a lot of us could provide a compelling reason for it. I still remember that one fateful day of sophomore winter when my friend asked herself: “Actually, why do I go out every Wednesday? It’s really f—ing cold and I have a lot of work to do.”

And that was the day she said ta-ta to her Wednesday night frat adventures and fixed her life.

I mean, not really — she probably just did some other foolish activity instead — but the basic idea here is that she questioned a vague tradition that she did not particularly enjoy and put an end to it. You could dispute my definition of “tradition” because it doesn’t seem grand enough or formal enough, but for all intents and purposes, a tradition is just a ritualized belief or action. And sometimes, these rituals creep into our lives so insidiously that we end up organizing events we don’t have to organize; making appearances we don’t have to make; and performing tasks we don’t have to perform. My presence at my family’s December get-together may

be mandated by parental decree, but no one can truly force me to show up at that weekly Collis lunch with “friends” from that one class I took that one term that I don’t really care to meet.

And so I don’t. Every now and then I question the quotidian traditions of my life at Dartmouth and ruthlessly sift through them. Which traditions do I actually enjoy? Which traditions have lost their luster? It may seem like a selfish process, but I trust we are all mature enough to understand some selfish decisions are also very necessary.

For all you know, the other individuals involved in the tradition are counting on you to end it!

“Hey! We’re going to Lou’s after our math exam as usual, right?”

“Actually ... can we not do that?

We really just talk about useless things.

I’m so sorry if you wer—.”

“I agree. Let’s not. I can only talk about apple-based desserts and the professor for so long.”

“Oh.” I leave you with that.

COURTESY OF ARUNAV JAIN

8// MIRR OR

Shedding Light: The Diwali Festival of Lights STORY

By Elizabeth Whiting

Every year between mid-October and mid-November, Hanover community members and student volunteers set up an array of tea lights lining the pathways of the Dartmouth Green, spelling out ‘Ohm’ in Hindi and ‘Shanti,’ the word for peace in Hindu. People gather on the Green to light these lamps just after dusk following the Lakshmi puja, as part of the celebration of the Hindu festival of lights, Diwali. Prasad Jayanti, the chair of the computer science department and faculty advisor of Shanti, an organization that represents the Hindu faith, explained the origins of the festival’s name.

“Diwali is a colloquial corruption of Deepa-awali. ‘Deepa’ means ‘light lamp.’ Awali means ‘a row, a list,’ so ‘deepa’ and ‘awali,’ joined become ‘Deepa-awali,’ so you shouldn’t be surprised if you see a lot of rows of lamps,” Jayanti said.

The lamps have become the most recognizable element of the Hindu festival of lights, both around the world and especially on Dartmouth’s campus. The celebration and the lights bring together the Hanover and Dartmouth communities across cultures.

Divya Kopalle ’21, a Hanover local and member of Shanti, has attended the Diwali celebration at Dartmouth for her entire life, missing only one year. She said that the ceremony is one of Shanti’s largest events. She said that the day starts with a prayer session in Rollins, followed by the lamp lighting on the Green. The final part of the ceremony is a cultural show with singing and a performance by the dance group Raaz.

“That’s a time when there are a lot of community members involved.

There are a few Dartmouth students and technically this is put on by the student organization, but the community is the major portion of it ... The community definitely puts a lot of work into this,” Kopalle said.

W h i l e p r i m a r i l y f a m i l i e s, community members and a few

students observing the holiday dominated attendance at the Lakshmi puja, the lighting of the lamps and the cultural show drew in a large crowd of graduate students and undergraduate students in addition to those already celebrating. The crowd progressively grew over the course of the evening to include hundreds of people enjoying the lamps, sparklers, entertainment and food. In Hanover, Diwali has become not just a Hindu celebration but also a Dartmouth tradition.

“It’s cool to see how far it has come and that we’re able to have an event that everyone looks forward to and knows about, not just the Hindu community ... This is one of the biggest things Shanti puts on, so we put a lot of effort into making it known to more than just the Hindu community or just the Dartmouth community but really anyone here in the Upper Valley,” Kopalle said.

Narayana Roa, a member of one of the 30 Hanover families who helped to prepare the dinner, explained that the Hanover community works hard to fund the celebration and keep it completely free to welcome students who may be craving a taste of home.

The servers and cooks feed 500 to 600 people and never have leftovers.

“In other places you have to pay an entrance fee of something like $10 to $15, but here in Hanover, it’s free!” Roa said.

Srivamshi Pittala, a graduate student, worked to organize the Diwali celebration for the past six years, attending this year’s celebration as just an attendee.

“I’ve been coming to Diwali every year I’ve been at Dartmouth. In India there is a lot more fervor in terms of household celebrations ... and since I don’t have family here this is how we celebrate. Shanti is something that provides this platform for students from India or elsewhere to still come together and celebrate,” Pittala said.

Two D a r t m o u t h g r a d u at e students, Linta Joseph GR’21and Maryam Negahbani GR’21 said they have attended the Diwali celebration

each of their past three years at Dartmouth. When asked about their experiences with the Diwali festival, they laughed, saying that that they were the worst people to talk to about Diwali. Joseph, who is from India, was raised Catholic, and Negahbani, who is from Iran, described herself as “atheist to the bone.”

“For me, it’s more a celebration of Indian culture than Hindu religion,” Joseph said.

“I guess because we don’t have a big community from my home, I just like to gather with my friends and celebrate something, so that’s why I got all dressed up and borrowed clothes from my friends,” Negahbani said.

Many Dartmouth students stumble upon the festivities and join in, while others hear about the

event from their Hindu friends. The amalgamation of people gathered together to celebrate Diwali with home-cooked food and sparklers exemplified community and joy rooted in Hindu values.

“The motivation of the actions of this diverse set of people across millennia and across the globe is the same. I’ll just very roughly use the word because the word is always approximate — but we are all just searching for happiness,” Janyanti said.

Janyanti continued to explain that Hinduism asserts that every human being can reach that state of happiness through seeking within.

“You think, you observe, you experiment, you can do so many things to improve your understanding to get there, but the main point is

there is such a state of happiness that every one of us can aspire to. Labels are not important,” Janyanti said.

The lights on the Green and the group gathered around them displayed a tradition adapted to the inevitable change of life, a journey around the world and a college campus adhering to the values at the core of the celebration.

“All of the desire to come together and celebrate and the effort put into that desire has made this come to be such a big celebration at Dartmouth, and wherever there is that commitment to effort within a community, anything can come to be. Wherever I am, I want to be a part of that,” Negahbani said.

Divya Kopalle is a member of The Dartmouth Senior Staff.

CLARA PAKMAN /THE DARTMOUTH