What many of us '11s wouldn't give to be wide-eyed freshmen again to believe, as Louis Wheatley suggests, that the euphoria we felt during Dimensions and Dartmouth Outing Club Trips would last throughout our college careers ("The Flair Effect," Apr. 5). I too thought that the "sudden outburst of uninhibited welcome and love" demonstrated by the Dimensions and DOC Croos was genuine. I too thought that Dartmouth students wore flair because they didn't care what others thought about them.
The problem with high expectations is that they set one up for disappointment. Dartmouth is just a college, after all. It is not Disneyland. It is not Hogwarts. And it is certainly not both at once. Dartmouth students are people, not Energizer bunnies. Your peers may pretend to love you when it is convenient for them, but they are often too stressed or self-absorbed to acknowledge your presence.
Those of us who believed that we were leaving the cattiness of high school behind when we first came to Dartmouth were instead confronted with a culture dominated by buzzwords such as "facetime," "A-side," "self call," and "the runway." Still, many clung to a belief that Dartmouth was some sort of utopia and that our forms of socializing, from the Greek system to our drinking games, were superior to those at other institutions. Questioning this arrangement was akin to blasphemy and students who indicated a desire to transfer were clearly delirious.
Dartmouth seniors, especially senior girls, are often regarded as "jaded." I prefer "in touch with reality." It would be nice to live in an idealistic bubble forever, but this is simply impractical. The truth is that most people care about image and status, and this mindset will not change after we graduate. Few people would wear a banana suit if it actually made them look ridiculous. At Dartmouth such behavior is encouraged. In the "real" world it is not. How many Dartmouth alums wear banana suits in the "real" world? Exactly.
The most valuable thing we can take away from our college experience are the friends who exceed our expectations the ones with whom we can share our deepest frustrations and not just the latest gossip. The rest of them provide entertainment for a limited period of time, and we should not be disappointed when they abruptly disappear from our lives.
Ironically, accepting that my expectations about the "Dartmouth Experience" were unrealistic allowed me to truly enjoy myself at the College. Most people I meet at frat parties will not remember or acknowledge meeting me the next day. Our conversations will mainly center on flair, food, keystone, pong, debauchery or other inconsequential dribble. At the end of the day, I can appreciate these interactions for what they are hilarious, and sometimes fun. I can also recognize that there are some truly amazing and inspiring people on this campus many of whom do not fit the prevailing social mold.
For years I was unable to admit to myself that I was unhappy with Dartmouth's "scene," somehow fearing this meant that there was something wrong with me. Once I started writing opinion columns, I realized that I was not alone in this sentiment. Many friends and acquaintances praised me for writing "what everyone is thinking but no one wants to say out loud." This struck me as amusing. If everyone is thinking the same thing, why should we be afraid to talk about it? Since when is talking about one's feelings revolutionary?
The answer, of course, is "since forever." The world runs on deception it fuels the careers of politicians, lawyers, CIA officers and salesmen alike. We learn from a young age to mold our personalities, our appearances and even our thoughts to fit certain purposes. In order to devise practical solutions to pressing problems we must to be able to understand the ways that people operate good and bad.
The world can be a cruel place, but it can be a beautiful place at the same time. Many people will disappoint you in life, but many others will surprise you. Most people lack the courage to be true to themselves, but that does not mean that you cannot be an exception. This is what I learned in college. Happy senior Spring, '11s!
