As a student body, we have no shortage of opinions about politically sensitive and polarizing topics. Yet religion, however controversial a subject, has been largely absent from campus conversation. So let’s talk about faith. In talking to many students across the spectrum of religious backgrounds, I’ve realized some things: Dartmouth has the resources for students who want to live a religious lifestyle. Many students at Dartmouth shy away from talking openly about their religious beliefs. And some students who adhere to more conservative and devout spectrums of their religion find it hard to harmonize aspects of campus social life with the tenets of their faith. These factors combine to pull some of us closer to our religions, while others of us drift farther away.
The College recognizes 23 religious groups. Each has a faculty and staff advisor or campus minister. Over 850 Dartmouth students were actively involved in a religion this past year, and that’s only counting those who practice through official campus groups or institutions, religious and spiritual life director Rev. Nancy Vogele told me as we sat in her office in the Tucker Foundation.
While many Dartmouth students noted an absence of discussion about religious matters on campus, I found that those who seek out a community have generally been satisfied.
When I asked her about the lack of religious dialogue on campus, Vogele said, “I think a lot of people don’t know so many of their fellow classmates practice their faith or are engaged in these types of conversations.”
Our quick pace of campus life makes it difficult for students “to have time to reflect and to explore what is most deeply meaningful for them,” she said.
Some students become involved in religious organizations, finding that their ordinary interactions on campus don’t adequately explore the spirituality they desire.
Terren Klein ’17 grew up in a conservative Jewish household and attended Jewish day school until eighth grade. He now works as a student intern in the multi-faith conversations program at Dartmouth, which hosts weekly faith-based dinner discussions for all students, regardless of religious affiliation.
Unless a college is religiously affiliated, religion is not going to be on the forefront of daily discussions, he said.
“I think everyday conversation rarely gets to very profound levels of discussion, and that’s understandable,” Klein said.
For Klein, dinners with multi-faith conversations have provided a diverse forum for these discussions.
“Even if you have three people who identify with the Jewish religion, you’ll have four opinions there,” he said.
Feyaad Allie ’16 grew up in a Muslim family and continues to practice on campus. Although he has found Dartmouth’s climate “very accepting,” he shies away from discussing the specifics of his religious observance, because he said it can come off as didactic or preachy.
“If you talk about it in a general sense and how it affects your daily life, it’s very much focused on you,” Allie said.
Though he grew up “loosely Buddhist,” Daniel Pham ’16 is not religious or affiliated with any faith-based groups on campus. He said the most he ever hears about religion is when his friends have an upcoming event or holiday.
Kush Desai ’17, who was brought up with and still ascribes to Hinduism, proudly wears an Om pendant around his neck, but he doesn’t find himself discussing faith over dinner, he said.
Part of the reason for this hesitancy for many students comes from fear of judgment.
Gaby Javitt ’16, who practices elements of conservative Judaism on campus, said she doesn’t identify herself as “pious.” She rarely broaches the subject with friends and does not know many others who practice on campus, she said.
“If you ask someone about their religion, you risk driving a wedge between yourself and that person,” Javitt said. “You’ll find something that you might not see eye-to-eye on, or that you might not have common ground on. And that might set you apart from them in a way that you might not want to be set apart.”
For Madeline Abbott ’15, her relationship with religion has evolved since freshman year, when she was more hesitant to discuss Christianity because she was worried people would make assumptions about her intelligence, social beliefs or politics.
Since then, Abbott has become much more vocal about the role religion plays in her life.
“I am a Christian who is pro-choice and who believes in evolution and takes science classes,” Abbott said. “I am more actively looking to combat stereotypes at this point in my Dartmouth career.”
In certain campus spaces, Dartmouth exposes students to fruitful discussions about faith. Participants have found that Dartmouth enables consistent religious practice because of the proximity of religious spaces and presence of organized communities.
Though neither of her parents is religious, Emily Eisner ’14 grew up in a Jewish area and considers herself “culturally Jewish.” Coming to Dartmouth was a “culture shock,” since she had been sheltered from other religions growing up.
“I had never ever, ever heard anyone say ‘I love Jesus’ before I came to college,” she said.
Eisner does not believe in God, but she said she enjoys going to synagogue for its communal and peaceful atmosphere.
For Desai, whose family didn’t live close to a temple, Rollins Chapel has made it easier to practice his religion on a fixed schedule, he said.
Carly Schnitzler ’16 said being at Dartmouth has not only fostered more faith-based discussions than she ever had at home, but it has also led her to reaccept Jesus as the main part of her life.
“I kind of became an actual Christian last year,” Schnitzler said. “I’ve slowly become more involved in the Christian community here, and it’s been really great.”
As an English major, Schnitzler said that she has gotten closer to her religion by unpacking the Bible as a text. A winter trip to Peru also introduced her to a friend who strengthened her faith.
“She kind of showed me how to not compartmentalize my faith and to see beauty and love everywhere,” Schnitzler said.
“People act surprised, and surprised in a good way” when they find out that she is religious, Schnitzler said. “They’re like ‘Oh, something makes sense about her now,’” she said.
Similarly, Sara Holston ’17 calls the initial shock of learning about a person’s religion the moment of the “‘Oh’ factor,” which adds a new component to a person’s identity that others may have a preconceived notion about.
Co-vice president of Dartmouth Hillel Nicholas Parillo ‘15, who carries a small bag of matzoh around during Passover, said he has never felt the need to suppress his religious identity.
“I’m out as a Jew,” he said.
Raised a Christian, Eliza Rockefeller ’17 was fascinated by Zen Buddhism, and after a trip to India at age 13, she converted. She now practices with the Zen practice group at Dartmouth. Her friends and classmates, she said, have received her religious life with curiosity and enthusiasm. But this might not be the case with mainstream religions, she said, which might elicit a more lukewarm reaction.
With Buddhism, “there’s an element of novelty,” Rockefeller said.
Difficulties practicing faith at Dartmouth extend beyond finding opportunities for religious discussions. Some say they have found the philosophies and teachings of their religions at odds with certain pieces of Dartmouth’s culture.
Reuben Hurst ’12, who was raised in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, took two years off from college after his freshman year to go on a mission trip in Brazil.
Rather than separating his everyday life and religion, Hurst inserts his life into his beliefs.
Given the pivotal role his faith plays in his life, Hurst has often encountered challenges maintaining his religious practices amid Dartmouth’s social scene. As a Mormon, you are never a regular college student, he said.
“Above all, it’s extremely socially inconvenient,” Hurst said. Mormons, he explained, do not drink alcohol and have distinct standards of sexual morality.
“[Life’s] purpose is to become the best version of you and, in terms of Mormon doctrine, that version is literally divine,” Hurst said.
Even with a community that he describes as “supportive,” Aditya Shah ’15, a practicing Hindu, has faced similar social struggles as Hurst has.
“I’ve definitely had difficulty bringing up religion in frat basements,” Shah said.
Based on his experience, Shah said most people make exceptions for their faith’s stipulations to accommodate “key aspects of Dartmouth culture,” like drinking.
Hinduism does not prohibit alcohol on principle, but uncontrolled drunkenness is considered “spiritually destructive, unsafe and unhealthy from every perspective within Hinduism,” Shah said.
“In general, even though moderation isn’t necessarily sinful, serious Hindu spiritual seekers tend to avoid alcohol entirely due to its association with debauchery,” he said.
Shah said that Hinduism’s principles can be maintained in any environment and the faith does not “espouse any ‘absolute’ morality,” though Dartmouth’s hook-up culture could be deemed destructive when viewed through a Hindu lens.
It’s not just social life that compromises religious observance. Some institutional elements of everyday life at Dartmouth simply don’t jive with certain religious practices.
Orthodox Jews, Dartmouth Hillel president Elana Folbe ’15 explained, cannot use electricity or money during Shabbat. In other words, this makes meal swipes impossible and complicates accessing residential buildings, and the list goes on.
“Very Orthodox Jews could not live here,” Folbe said. “I think the school would have to make a lot of accommodations and change a lot of things.”
As his sophomore summer rounds the corner, Allie is already considering the arrangements he must make to observe the major Muslim holiday of Ramadan, a month of fasting that begins June 28. Allie will fast during daylight hours, all while balancing classes and a social life.
Part of the observance entails eating before sunrise and right at daybreak — two times when most campus dining halls don’t usually offer food. However, the College will allow students observing Ramadan to go to FoCo before the sun rises, Allie said.
“I plan to fast, but maybe not for all 30 days,” Allie said. He may also take classes fewer days a week to ease the fasting, he said.
While Allie finds the school accommodating, Shah takes issue with religion in the classroom setting. Specifically, he finds the way the religion department teaches non-Judeo Christian religions to be problematic.
“[Teaching of] Abrahamic faiths are more systematic, organized or articulated,” he said. “Hindu students can’t really take courses on Hinduism usually because they feel like so many of the things taught within there are expressly taught with a political agenda.”
These classes present Hinduism in a negative light, he said, without elaborating on many positive social and ethical consequences of the scriptures.
In an email, religion professor Reiko Ohnuma said she firmly believes she does not teach her courses on Hinduism with a political agenda or present the religion in a negative light. She begins her introductory course on Hinduism with a discussion of the sensitivity of having a Japanese-American, non-Hindu, non-South Asian teaching the course, she said.
One of the primary goals of the Tucker Foundation is to bridge the divide between religious and non-religious students, so that they can understand faith’s purpose in people’s lives, Vogele said.
“We would really have to change the culture of our campus if we were going to have more variety and more visibility in the way that people experience and practice religion,” Eisner said.
But Vogele, who has sought new ways to collaborate within College departments like through alternative spring break programs and the new Inter-Faith living learning community, remains optimistic about “building relationships across campus” to boost the level of religious discourse.
While Folbe has found Dartmouth to be a welcoming place, she said she does not know if she would feel similarly if she were “very, very religious.”
“I think there’s a big divide between very religious students and not very religious students on campus,” Eisner said. “You’re sort of either secretly religious or religious enough that that becomes a very big part of your life.”
Regardless of beliefs and backgrounds, students share common ground, Vogele said, as they search for “meaning and purpose.”
“There’s something about coming together and having companionship that I think is really meaningful — not just for students but for the human being,” Vogele said.
