7.11.2014
MIRROR
Secret Sistine| 2
The Incredible Journey | 3
Camp dartmouth | 3
Behind the Mirror| 4 LUKE MCCANN // THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
2// MIRROR
EDITOR’S NOTE
Dartmouth’s Secret Sistines story
B y Natalie Van Brunt
NATALIE CANTAVE // THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
When I was a young, pimple pelted, cloak clad middle-schooler, I spent three summers in the steamy hills of North Carolina at what can only be called “nerd camp.” I studied writing and psychology with kids just like me, kids who knew words like “capricious” and treasured their vast collections of Harr y Potter memorabilia. “Smart kids, a bookstore that sells peanut butter M&M’s and unrestricted access to the librar y? College is gonna rock,” I thought to myself as I looked around the campus. Right now, hoards of kids are roaming this campus, probably thinking the same things I did. The only difference is that most of them wield lacrosse sticks instead of wands. We get annoyed with them for cutting us in line at Collis, but festooned with their lanyards and brace-faces, these tots remind us of something we all once had and may still have — potential. This week’s edition of The Mirror is all about potential. It’s about the potential to express ourselves in unconventional and artistic ways, the potential to explore outside of this little town and the potential to examine the way we think about traditions like the Dartmouth Seven. It’s about giving a rouse for the College on the Hill, for your fellow man and for yourself.
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MIRROR R MIRROR EDITOR MARY LIZA HARTONG
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF LINDSAY ELLIS PUBLISHER CARLA LARIN
EXECUTIVE EDITOR LUKE MCCANN
LUKE MCCANN // THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
I’ve been influenced greatly by the written word at Dartmouth. I would like to give credit to my professors, to thought-provoking classes and to heavy reading assignments. I would like to credit our vast array of special interest clubs and our various arts performances. I would like to, but if I’m being honest, the greatest moment of inspiration came to me while sitting on a sticky bench, staring at the walls of a decrepit frat basement. “Buy a man a pizza, and he will follow you for a night. Teach a man to pizza, and he will follow himself for life.” Reading this was an awakening, an empowering moment to a confused freshman lost in the crowd, unsure what to do with herself. I marched home with my head held a little higher that night. I was confident. I was secure. And I ordered my own damn EBAs to eat in my bed. As the year progressed, I inevitably fell back into stress about school, life and my general anxious existence, but the scribbled writings of Dartmouth students came to me in my time of need. A light fixture in Psi U reminded me that “the best part is, it doesn’t even matter. Snack on that.” A library table advised me, “don’t sweat the petty things and don’t pet the sweaty things.” The FoCo chalkboard spoke the words of wisdom reminiscent of my middle school AIM profile. It said “real eyes realize real lies,” but it made me ponder the deeper question of “real eggs realeggs real legs?” When I found “KALE” tagged on an overpass in Vermont, I realized the graffiti here at Dartmouth is not what you would find in a major city, as far as I know no one has left their mark in spray-painted bubble letters or created some trippy mural masterpiece on the side of Baker. While we may be restrained enough not to tarnish the picturesque spots seen by the tour crowds, graffiti art still exists at the College, hidden behind the doors of our Greek houses. More than just places for pong and parties, these places act as our underground campus art museums. Tiantian Zhang ’16 studied street art SEAD mentor: If Teddy Grahams were sold as cereal rather than cookies, America would never emerge from its obesity epidemic and we would all be okay with that.
Philosophy prof: I never wipe. If I get skid marks, I get skid marks.
and the squats, old buildings that serve as a breeding ground for artists, while on an FSP in Paris. Many of the buildings have become sanctuaries for graffiti art, and certain sections of the city are left alone by police to allow people from all walks of life to leave behind their artistic mark, much like the freely painted walls of many campus basements. To get a better look at some of the art of Dartmouth, I headed into the Tabard to take a look around. Justin Maffett ’16, currently serving as treasurer of the Tabard, gave me a tour of their elaborately painted rooms and walls. In every direction there was something unique and beautiful, and the work was never complete. He pointed to several designs and markings that had been added just within the last few weeks. “It becomes somewhat of an issue, because a lot of this art means a lot to people, and 10 to 15 years down the line when things get covered up, alums take that very personally. This is how they leave their history,” Maffett said. To support that, he showed me their bathroom, which was covered from floor to ceiling with quotes and sayings from members, usually attributed to their house name. “I’ve come across things that I’ve said on this wall and not even known they’re there until randomly notice it while going to the bathroom,” Maffett said. “People I’ve never met will come back to visit and I can immediately be like, ‘Oh, you’re the one who said that thing by the sink!’” Maffett takes the standpoint that graffiti is fully an art and a necessary form of self-expression. And in spite of the criminal label it’s given, Zhang found in her research that graffiti was valued as a legitimate source of art by both citizens and arts scholars. However, there is a difficult line to draw between what is artful graffiti and what is harmful and destructive vandalism. Certainly not all public musings are positive, as seen in last year’s hateful dorm graffiti, or the
’16 girl: What is he but his music and his hair? Other ’16 girl: His eyes? *murmur of agreement*
DDS employee: I couldn’t find my pants! I was like, “I live alone. Where are all my pants going?”
damaging comments about skipping leg day that were recently chalked onto our sidewalks. Occasionally, there is argument over what goes on the walls at the Tabard, but for the most part, Maffett says that people tend to accept what goes up and value it as an art. “Initially, street artists just did it as a way to rebel because they were bored and needed a way to express themselves, but it developed into a culture,” Zhang says. “Now, they’ve moved away from focusing on political messages to just doing things that are creative and expressive of their imagination.” Walking through the basements of certain houses, it’s easy to see the incredible creativity of Dartmouth students, both past and present. Keelin Stronski ’16 says she constantly in awe of what’s painted in dingy basements. “They’re entertaining to look at, and usually pretty clever. Sometimes I have zero idea how or why people came up with this stuff, but it’s fun to think about” Stronski said, noting a carefully painted, “Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the pong game?” found in Zete. Hanover is kept idyllic for visitors who have no idea of the burgeoning underground arts movement. Preserved on our walls are drunk reflections and love confessions, freshman worries and senior bucket lists. There are paintings on ceilings that turn stairwells into the Sistine Chapel and murals that would make Diego Rivera applaud. It’s not all highbrow or tasteful, but it is beautiful. Fragments of our brains are captured to document our history and supplement our education with something we can’t get in a classroom. “The work will never be done. Even now, with so much here, this place is still a blank slate. It will always be an outlet for all of us,” Maffett says. Find your space and leave a piece of yourself. Be it an elaborate drawing, a tiny doodle, or sage advice about pizza, you will be responsible for a work of art.
’16 girl: I was, like, totally afraid I was gonna black out, and then I did!
’16 guy: That’s not the first time I ate a whole diaper, but it’s the last time I’ll eat one with my eyes closed.
MIRROR //3
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The Incredible Journey story
B y Charlie Rafkin
The selection of a traveling companion is the essential step in preparing your trip to SaintGaudens National Historic Site. You could bring someone with a vast reservoir of knowledge about American art in the late 1800s to help you appreciate the beauty in Augustus SaintGaudens’s impressive sculptures. An Upper Valley buff would be a wise choice, bringing along insight gleaned from years of tramping around the region’s hills and valleys. Maybe the site is best seen with a romantic interest or a quiet, introverted friend, the sort of person who will allow you to enjoy your thoughts as you survey the cozy historical center tucked into this hamlet in Cornish. Austin Boral ’16 is none of those, but I don’t have a car and he’s too nice to ask me to chip in for gas, so I ask him to tag along. I regret my decision to bring Austin before we even arrive in West Lebanon, when he announces his plans to scrapbook our journey. We finish our brunch at Four Aces as he carefully pockets a crumpled receipt for $21 and insists that I snag some of the jam on the side of the table for the scrapbook. “Not apple cinnamon flavored,” he emphasizes. One half-hour car ride spent listening to acoustic covers of rap songs later, we pull into the parking lot, pay our entrance fees and enter the site. A white mansion overlooks a rolling, lush meadow, and picture-book white trees border the path. It’s not hard to imagine why the family decided to settle here. I visited the site with my father a year ago, but the beauty of the grounds truly comes to life in the summer. While I
wouldn’t have designed the two miniature golden turtle fountains spitting water into opposite ends of the reflecting pool, overall I give the world-renowned sculptor the benefit of the doubt. During our tour of the mansion, we learn about Saint-Gaudens’s life and work. His most famous sculptures include the Diana that graces the top of Madison Square Garden and the Robert Gould Shaw Memorial in the Boston Common. The rooms of the mansion are decorated in the style of SaintGaudens’s era, and the site preserves a number of his sculptures and bas-reliefs. His was the perfect 19th-century family, our guide informs us, with a wife, a child, a mistress and another child by the mistress rounding out the bunch. The family anchored its social circle, dubbed the Cornish Colony. For the twentieth anniversary of buying their Cornish home, members of the Colony collaborated to write a play celebrating the alpha couple. It culminated with Augustus assuming his rightful place atop Mount Olympus — a celebration that might strike those used to frequenting the parties in any basement on Webster Avenue as at least a little unusual. The stage built for the performance remains on the property. Saint-Gaudens was buried there after he died of cancer in 1907. The splendorous tree out front — a “thornless honey locust” — was planted the year after the couple arrived in Cornish. As we walk along the house’s ground floor, our guide tells us that she was originally a teacher who started working as a Park Ranger through the National Park Service’s Teacher-Ranger-Teacher program. Now, she gives several tours of SaintGaudens’s home each day. She tells us that each tour she gives is different
— she’ll give every group the basics, of course, but she picks different objects to highlight in every tour. We tour the grounds, stopping once at the mesmerizing memorial to Marian Hooper Adams, who committed suicide in 1885. We end back at the visitor’s center. A gaggle of Park Rangers and tour guides chat with us there. Ranger Kerstin Burlingame informs us that a visitor recently made a trip to Cornish solely to visit the thornless honey locust. “There was a guy that came a couple weeks ago,” she said. “He said he was just going to go up and hug the tree.” Another ranger, Judi Tatem, tells us that an elderly lady touring the site said it was her first time in the gardens since high school, when she had danced with friends among the moonlit statues at night. She wanted to visit again to see if the site was still just as beautiful, Tatem said. As we bid our ranger friends goodbye -- a phrase I cannot believe I just put down on paper -- they encourage us to check the site’s social media accounts. I’ll spare you the details, but during my extraordinarily extensive historical preparation for this piece, I found the following excerpt from a post on their Facebook page: “It’s fall and guess what: Honey Locust don’t care!” This, gentle reader, is what keeps one coming back to the National Park Saint-Gaudens Site. We set off back to Hanover with a veritable surfeit of memories for Austin’s scrapbook. While I decided to save myself the embarrassment of detailing exactly where Austin and I took a selfie I can safely say that although the details of our voyage to Saint-Gaudens may fade, the dried jam and a crumpled receipt from Four Aces will remain.
prospective students during the summer can be found being sporty somewhere. Though I’ve heard of current students who went to debate camp or math camp here, the sports camps seem to be the most prevalent. There are more of them and they tend to travel in packs. Here’s a rundown of a typical day in prospie-land: 8:15 a.m.: Up and at ’em! So psyched for practice today, guys! I love summer! This is so much better than getting up for school! 8:45 a.m.: Oh boy, this dining hall has so many options for breakfast! All-you-can-eat? I’m so there! 9:30 a.m.: OMG did you see that college student studying for a test over there? She looked so focused! Gosh people here are smart! [Said college student continues to browse Facebook]. 10 a.m.-2 p.m.: Activities! Sports! Friends! Camp! 2 p.m.-5 p.m.: Let’s go down to the river and then later roast hot dogs and make s’mores! What are classes? During one rainy afternoon this past week, I watched three eager adolescent boys clicking away at a First Floor Berry computer, smiling surreptitiously as they continued with their clearly not camp-related activities and thought, “That’s it. They’re trying to hack their way in early. Admissions, you’ve been warned.” Worried that they might approach me with queries of “What was your
The Dark Side of foc0
When the athletes are away the mice will play.
Dogs on the Green They love a good trough of Collis pasta just as much as you do.
Some people kiss in them, some fall asleep to them. We’re just hoping our bikes don’t get rusty.
B y Katie hake
My first encounter with summer camps at Dartmouth was through my younger brother, a tough-guy type who told me horror stories of his stay in a place called “French.” He and his rowing buddies did order close to $150 worth of Boloco smoothies, so it didn’t sound like the worst experience in the world, but I digress. This was a few weeks after I visited for Dimensions, where I raged (read: played Apples to Apples until 1 a.m.), watched a bunch of people dance around in silly costumes (R.I.P. real Dimensions) and ultimately made the decision to matriculate. Despite the fact that we all know the real Camp Dartmouth is sophomore summer itself, the Co-op boasts a sign outside its door that suggests camp at Dartmouth also has something to do with sports. “Welcome, Camps!” the sign proclaims cheerfully, ignoring the suffering it perpetuates in ’16s. We are the ones who have to avoid trampling brace-faced, lacrosse-stick-wielding 13-year-olds on our way into FoCo, and we are the ones who must also avoid being trampled ourselves by overzealous rugby players in the stir-fry line. What exactly is going through these campers’ heads? Are they already considering applying to Dartmouth, or is the College on the Hill just another summer camp for them? Are all of these campers the smart kids who managed to cheat the system and tour the College without their parents? When they’re not blocking your way into Collis as part of a tour group, most
Tabard
Nightly Rain Storms
Camp Dartmouth story
D @ RTMOUTH
14X being a real term Midterms? Papers? How dare you, madras shorts clad professors!
Kathy Rao // THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
SAT score?” and “What’s the pre-med major like?” I avoided eye contact and scurried away. Better to be safe than to interact with high schoolers. Should you chance to actually encounter one of these youngsters, keep in mind that you represent our school. Some of them may actually have legitimate questions. Answer them honestly and keeping in mind that there is no one true Dartmouth experience. They may not believe you about the cold at this point, but if all goes well, they’ll learn soon enough. Smile and try not to cringe when that camper’s follow-up e-mail is preceded by considerable schmoozing. I know I didn’t want to deal with taking down my tour guide’s blitz address after my own Dartmouth tour. “Your full name?” I thought, “including middle initial? And class year? How many people actually go to this school?” Campers, this sort of behavior will be shared with everyone your tour guide, who is likely very facetimey, knows. And though your tour guide is not going to get you into Dartmouth, the follow-up e-mail is a nice touch to complement that orphanage you helped build last summer. Just something to think about.
Mount Cardigan This hiking pic is going to look great on my Instagram.
Off campus meal plans
4// MIRROR
BEHIND THE MIRROR story
B y MADDIE BROWN and MAGGIE SHIELDS
Here at the Mirror we like to write silly articles. We like to write about the campus blue lights, the different kinds of falafel at FoCo and even the dating dynamics on campus. While some of these fun ideas have blossomed into great articles, often stories in need of deeper thought remain on the shelf. Typically, when articles are pitched for the Mirror, the editors offer many different angles for the writers to take. Here is the pitch for today’s article:
THE PITCH Stalking the Dartmouth Seven This sounds creepy, but bear with me. Somebody goes out on a weekend night and spends 20-30 minutes in each of the Dartmouth Seven spots to scope out any possible action. The article might include speculation as to why these spots evolved as the official Seven as opposed to, say, the golf course or the tennis courts. You could try to figure out when the first mention of the Dartmouth Seven was, either in The D or in a graduation speech. Take a look at when each place was built. For example, Dartmouth Hall was built a long time ago whereas the Hop is only 50 years old. So when would have been the first year possible to do the Dartmouth Seven?
WHAT WE TURNED IN You just had the most romantic dinner at the Class of 1953 Commons -- your crush even swiped you in. Now the date is over and you are both trying to figure out where to go to kiss a little. Your off-campus house is 4 miles away and their dorm room is a triple converted from a single. Your pickings are slim. You decide to partake in one of the Dartmouth Seven. It’s sophomore summer, why not. Spontaneity may seem like the best approach to the Dartmouth Seven, but we disagree. Completion of the Seven requires careful planning, protection and execution. It’s
essentially a fourth class, so you’ll need our help along the way. Think of us as your TAs. THE RULES: You’re taking a fourth class now, so you must come fully prepared. There’s a lot of criteria to consider when choosing a partner — an open schedule, connections with janitors, a love of all things outdoorsy and a fiery passion for life. As with coursework, we suggest that you start by tackling the easiest assignment before moving on to more difficult tasks. THE BEMA: The Dartmouth Seven’s version of a layup. If the name “Big Empty Meeting Area” isn’t clear enough, then the phrase “gigantic person-less gathering location” should help you understand why it’s a good place to start. There’s some tips to remember for this one, though. Bug spray and sunscreen are essentials. Contracting West Nile could seriously hinder your journey to complete the Seven. Download a reliable weather app on your phone so you can ensure promising conditions. Some people think kissing in the rain is romantic, but we don’t think this should be left to chance. THE STACKS: To avoid detection here, you’ll need your ECON/GOV/PSYCH/SOC 10 knowledge. It’s a busy place and you want to reduce the reduce the probability of running into another student. Visit the library at 10 p.m. on Wednesday, and compile a list of popular summer courses to determine when major examinations and assessments are due. Perform a two sided t-test to determine if the probability of getting caught is less than 5%. If it is, go to the annexes and hope you’ve done your calculations correctly. Blitz The.Dartmouth@Dartmouth.edu if you are interested in the rest of our original piece. We think it’s silly. Our editors thought we could do better.
THe responses, roughly From: Mirror Editor To: Maddie and Maggie Subject: ARTICLE I hate to do this to you, but the editor-
in-chief just looked over the article and she really thinks it needs inter views. If you could talk to librarians, Hop employees and members of FO&M tomorrow that would be great. Basically we feel like we aren’t adding enough to the conversation of the Dartmouth Seven and having a few older perspectives would give the idea new life. I will see if I can wrangle people for inter views to make this as easy on you as I can.
and I respect your judgment on it. But I figured I’d put in my two cents because my concerns raised your questions. Let me know what you think.
From: Maggie and Maddie To: Mirror Editor CC: The Dartmouth Editor-in-Chief Subject: RE: AR TICLE I think that if we were to inter view people about sex as a trivial matter it could become ver y controversial. The purpose of our article is to desexualize the Dartmouth Seven. I think it would create an uncomfortable situation to discuss sex with faculty members. Please let us know your thoughts! -Maddie and Maggie
From: Maggie To: Maddie Subject:?!!!
From: Editor-in-Chief To: Maddie and Maggie CC: The Executive Editor, The Mirror Editor Subject: RE: RE: AR TICLE Really appreciate your thoughts. Just to be totally clear, I hadn’t envisioned talking to adults as a disrespectful, lewd angle into the Seven — instead, I thought it would add a more mature perspective. I’ve found that Dartmouth traditions like the Seven are often seen through tunnel vision, and better understanding its effects on broader Dartmouth, to me, would contextualize it (and frankly desexualize it) further. As it stands right now, I think the piece leans a bit too close to what’s already been published: here are the Seven and here is little quip about each of the places. It doesn’t seem to offer our audience something new and fresh, which makes for the best Mirror stories. We won’t move for ward with the angles we had noted earlier tonight, but we need another layer here. You all are of course more closely tied to this stor y than I am,
From: Maddie To: Maggie Subject: FWD: RE: RE: AR TICLE What should we say -madz
I dont know we need to add somethig else.... Sent from my iPhone
PROPOSED IDEAS: WE TRIED 1) Interview SAPAs and MAV trainers. Ask them for their opinions on the Dartmouth Seven. 2) Interview students who have completed parts of the Seven. Pray they allow their names to run in the newspaper. 3) Scavenge all Safety and Security reports and try to find a few that could potentially relate to the Dartmouth Seven. We heard of a girl going to DHMC because she got stuck climbing the fence to the football field. Maybe we could find that report. Maybe we could interview the girl. 4) Run the story as it was originally written. 5) Completely change the purpose of this article. Although an article on the Dartmouth Seven has the potential to be incredibly thought provoking, we did not give ourselves enough time to fully develop the story. Our initial article was the direct result of our procrastination. This story is not the story Dartmouth deserves, but for right now it’s the one Dartmouth needs.
JULIETTA GERVASE, ZONIA MOORE, HUNTER VAN ADELSBERG AND NATALIE CANTAVE/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF