Last winter, I went over to Rauner Library to see "something cool," so I could check off another item on my "things to do before I graduate" poster that I got during freshman Orientation. While there, I picked up copies of the Aegis from the 1950s and 1960s the "good ole days," if you will and flipped through them, immersing myself in a world that seemed at once so similar and yet so distant from the Dartmouth I know and love.
As I perused these paper time machines, a particular part of the books caught my eye: the sections with pictures of past Winter Carnivals. These black and white photos displayed enormous and elaborate snow sculptures on the Green. Each fraternity, too, had its own mini-sculpture. They were elaborate and clever. It appeared that students had built these sculptures with profuse amounts of school spirit and passion.
I left Rauner and headed back to my dorm, glancing over at the dirty mound of snow in the middle of the Green that had once been a lodge but had now collapsed into a mountain. Sure, you could blame it on the weather, I thought. But I could not help feeling that this sculpture lacked the zeal with which the statues of years past had been constructed.
Flash forward to today. I sit at my computer and read a blitz that attempts to bribe students with food to come out from their dorms, the library or frat basements and help build the snow sculpture that is supposed to be the crowning jewel of the weekend. A week away from Carnival and the snow sculpture does not remind me of anything remotely close to a colosseum it is mostly just a wooden frame with very bright lighting. Sure, I suppose, Rome wasn't built in a day. But in a week? Two weeks?
These thoughts and images of our dismal snow sculpture flash through my mind as I read an article explaining how the sculpture will be downsized for 2010. I can't help but wonder where the Dartmouth passion for Carnival went a passion that, for me, was palpable from the annals in Rauner last year. I can't help but wonder what happened to the belief that the snow sculpture is what Carnival is all about. I can't help but wonder whether the effort that used to make our snow sculptures aesthetically beautiful has been replaced with an effort to make our parties, our flair and our appearance aesthetically pleasing.
I also wonder if we have forgotten the true value of the snow sculpture, an icon that leaves a legacy to posterity. Fifty years from now, when perhaps my grandkids or your grandkids look back at the Aegis of our years here at the College their "good ole days" what will they think? Will our passion for the Carnival be palpable? Will our section of Winter Carnival pictures in the Aegis even catch their eyes? Or will Carnival be remembered as a party weekend where empty Keystone cans could have been used to construct a more grandiose sculpture than the one on the Green?
These are questions we must ask ourselves as we decide whether to allow Winter Carnival to morph into a Green Key-like weekend of partying or to uphold its Homecoming-like level of tradition. I would think it unfortunate and perhaps disrespectful to past Dartmouth students if we continue to downsize our sculptures due to the lack of student participation and for the sake of ease. They made their sculptures worth remembering. We should, too.
With all the recent talk of budget cuts that will impact the "Dartmouth Experience," I find it odd that we let this aspect of the experience slide on by. Unlike budget cuts, where the decision-making power is not ours, the power to preserve the snow sculpture, a sacred icon of the "Dartmouth Experience" and of the Carnivals of Winters past, is literally in our hands.
