The Dartmouth Mirror 05/22/15

Page 1

MIRROR 05.22.2015

How Friendships Are Formed|2

How Therapy Dogs Can Help |3

How Profs Are Hired|4-5

How Sororities Go Local|6 Shuoqi Chen/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF


Finding Your People

2// MIRROR

EDITOR’S NOTE

College can be lonely. But people’s paths to friendship vary. SPOTLIGHT

If previous weeks were characterized by a surfeit of communication, Charlie and Maddie’s fourth issue of The Mirror was marked by a startling lack of any intra-Mirror editor discussion at all. Did the duo convene midweek to assess the state of the magazine? Nah. Did they see each other at Green Key? Probably. They think so. Or maybe not. Did Charlie say hi to Maddie at the gym? No. Charlie doesn’t go to the gym. (Cue reference to flabby dadbod.) But if he did, he still would have ignored her. So how did The Mirror work this week? Have the two overcome their irreconcilable differences, which largely stem from Maddie’s unhealthy obsession with Taylor Swift and Charlie’s unhealthy obsession with himself? Has this pair of editors decided to work together to form something more beautiful than each could imagine by themselves? Will they ever stop using rhetorical questions as a cheap device to get the reader to continue to digest this schlock? Is it possible to pen an Editor’s Note wherein more than half the sentences are questions? Do you think these editors will answer these questions and reveal the inner workings of The Mirror — thereby rendering themselves obsolete? If there’s one value Charlie and Maddie do share, it’s the importance of jealously guarding their power. Exposing the machinations of The Mirror would shatter their grip on this magazine. Charlie and Maddie may be petty, but the writers are not. In this issue, they’ve explored how campus works — including features on how friendships form, how professors are hired and how sororities have localized in the past.

follow @thedmirror

MIRROR R MIRROR EDITORS MADDIE BROWN CHARLIE RAFKIN EDITOR-IN-CHIEF KATIE McKAY

PUBLISHER JUSTIN LEVINE

EXECUTIVE EDITORS LUKE McCANN JESSICA AVITABILE

How does flitzing work?

B y Hannah Hye Min Chung

There is a saying in Korea that one will make their life long friendships in high school or before — never in college. Once you matriculate, the social dynamics of a college campus are drastically different from what many of us experienced before. Building relationships here requires individuals to be more proactive — we are no longer provided with a group of homeroom classmates or little league teammates whom we are expected, and often required, to befriend. There are, however, a series of unspoken rules about how we interact with one another on campus, and it begs the question as to exactly how students manage to forge friendships once they arrive. Unfortunately, there is not a clear cut answer to the question of college socialization, and students’ experiences vary so greatly that it’s meaningless to say that a single method works for each and every one of us in meeting and befriending new people. There are, however, some governing threads. For the majority of students who arrive in Hanover, the first social experiences include listening to a loud group of upperclassmen singing about Dartmouth before setting off to climb mountains or kayak with a group of fresh-faced first-years. An intense wilderness experience can engender bonding, but whether or not that bond evolves into a lasting friendship differs from student to student. Adria Brown ’15 said that although DOC First-Year Trips helped ease her into networking with and meeting people at the College, her interactions did not develop into long-term friendships after returning to campus. Yoon Kim ’16 reiterated a similar sentiment, and she said that she did not build a lasting rapport with her tripees. This is not necessarily the case for everyone, though, as many students have been known to remain close with, sometimes even date, their trippees. Kim noted that she knows several people who became best friends during Trips and have remained that way ever since. Sociology professor Janice McCabe expanded on the two factors that attract people to each other: homophily — a word that indicates sharing similar values and norms — and propinquity, which refers to spending time together in the same space. Though Trips, by their nature, force propinquity, this does not necessarily mean the resultant friendships are created simply by spending time together for a few short days. For Marielle Brady ’17, those who do become close during Trips are generally attracted to each other more for shared values and common interests than their shared time

How does being casually late work?

on a wilderness excursion. If the DOC trips are marked by an intense burst of bonding, the next few weeks of orientation and adjustment to campus are marked by myriad of shorter, often shallow encounters. After all, students are essentially introducing themselves to a new group of people approximately every five seconds during the span of about one week. Kim said that her orientation was an overwhelming experience, and though she did have a group of people with whom she talked throughout the entire week, she did not end up forging lasting relationships. One of the first groups many students meet after returning from Trips are their floormates, and first-year housing can be a formative time for budding friendships. Brady said that her friend group arose from her first-year residential hall. She noted, however, that her case might have been special — she lived in a substance-free building in the River Cluster, so her housing’s remote location might have worked to create stronger bonds between residents. In fact, Kim noted that she felt people from particular first-year residential housing options such as sub-free dorms or the East Wheelock Cluster, tended to bond more quickly. She said she personally did not enjoy a strong bonding experience with her freshman floormates, and she said that she envied those floors with strong bonding. Of course, not all floors are a hub of community bonding and friendship. Some floors, for example, can find themselves divided between social circles. Ben Nelson ’17 said that his freshman floor had two main friend groups who spent weekends together, but he did not necessarily find common interest with them. Sophomore fall and winter introduces a new excitement and anxiety — many students, at some point or the other, consider the option of joining a Greek organization. With parents who were both members of the Tabard coed fraternity during their time at the College, Nelson said that his familiarity with his house’s values and atmosphere helped him feel comfortable during his decision to join. On the other hand, female students interviewed noted that rush process was a rather overwhelming and confusing experience for them. After participating in the winter rush process, Kim became a member of Kappa Kappa Gamma sorority and Brady joined Kappa Delta sorority, and both women said that joining a house was an instrumental shift in their social dynamic as they were then introduced to a

How does the Dartmouth Seven work?

I always say, the more punctuation, I’ve always heard that I should show the better. Instead of saying “hi” you up casually late to events. But how Find a lucky someone and then should say “hi!!!!!” or even “hi….” late is casually late… Two minutes? head to the easiest of the seven Sometimes, the illustrious quotation 20 minutes? Two hours? Three – the steps of Dartmouth Hall. I’d marks can do wonders. For instance, hours?! For class, I would say suggest going at 6:30 p.m. on a rainy telling something they are “cute” or casually late would be about day because not only will there be less “interesting” is so much better than one hour. Staying in class for people around (they will be eating — telling them they are cute or interesting only five minutes — so casual! duh), but also you get to kiss a little in the without quotations. Say something like, But like, TBH, I think people rain! So hot. I enjoyed meeting “you.” should start the convention

new social circle of students. Brown said that she did not find a house that she truly connected to after the rush process and joined Alpha Pi Omega sorority during her junior year. She said that the friend group she made within the Native American community are the people who are closest to her. “We all come from different tribes and are very diverse, but there are some similar experiences and feelings that you have coming into Dartmouth that help you bond as a group,” she said. To some extent, it is easy to understand why people sometimes create quicker and stronger connections with the people from the same ethnic or cultural group. Brown said she thinks that the people with the same background tend to share similar values that facilitates this connection. Echoing this sentiment, Kim said that her best friend group comes from the overlap of the two spheres with which she identifies — the Korean student group and a Christian group. Initially, she said, she feared she was not branching out, but she soon realized that it is natural that she wants to spend time with those who share her values. “If you know that you have your best friends, and you want to spend [all of your time] with them — do it. If you are happy with it, you should just stick with it,” she said. “But it’s also wonderful to step out of your comfort zone.” It’s not only within explicitly cultural or ethnic organizations that people convene with those from similar backgrounds, Nelson said. In fact, the organizations created around a certain activity or cause also draw people from certain backgrounds as well. Athletics, too, offer students opportunities to forge friendships with classmates. Brady said that she saw intense bonding between female varsity teammates, and it is understandable considering how much time they spend with each other and away from those who are not in the same team. Kim said that she noticed that the varsity athletes do tend to craft friend groups much faster. McCabe said that varsity athletic teams have both homophily and propinquity — in that the teammates share the same interest of playing a certain sport and spend a great deal of amount of time together. When asked what she thinks really shaped the way she interacts with others, Brown said that for her, it was important to first find out who she really is and what she wants. “Everyone wants it to be clear-cut — this is how you make friends. But the reality is a lot more difficult than that,” she said.


A Student’s Best Friend How support animals play a role on campus SPOTLIGHT

B y Maggie baird and kate hildreth

Frat dogs have long been the undisputed top dogs on campus, many sparking followings of their own, but there is another class of up-and-coming canine. This fall, Student Accessibility Ser vices implemented a new support animal program, which now allows students to live with their support animals in campus dorms. The idea of a support animal seemed pretty straightforward at first, but we did not realize how complicated the legal classes of animals are until embarking on this article. While the terms are likely used interchangeably by those that are less familiar with the concept, therapy dogs, emotional support dogs and service dogs all have very different rights and roles on college campuses. A therapy dog is one that has been registered with a therapy organization, but these dogs have largely the same legal designation as any household animal. Most therapy organizations mandate that therapy dogs pass an exam — ­ the Canine Good Citizen test. Therapy dogs are often seen frequenting hospitals, nursing homes or schools, and their primary job is simply to provide psychological or physical therapy for people. You won’t find any permanent therapy dogs on this campus, though, as they are not guaranteed housing and therefore not allowed to live in dorms. You are more likely to find therapy dogs at events like Active Minds’ mental health fair. The puppies are trained to visit places like college campuses and senior centers to provide a general feeling of joy, relief or a moment to de-stress. Penelope Williams ’16 has been spending a lot of time this term with a particular dog that many of us likely recognize — Kappa Kappa Kappa fraternity’s border collie, Zeus. Williams said that she was drawn to Zeus for his intelligence and for his breed. Though Zues is not a certified therapy dog, Williams derives therapeutic benefits from spending time with him. “It’s been a definite mode of therapy for me because I can’t run,” she said. “I turned to meditation and to dog therapy.” Williams explained that she has gone to see Zeus at least once a week throughout the term. They regularly enjoy walks around Pine Park and time on the green together. Could frat dogs do more? Maybe, but many regulations exist for emotional support and therapy animals. “The problem is that they have to be very well trained,” Williams explained. “They have to have a single handler who would be willing to take them all the time.” In many fraternities, there’s often one member who takes responsibility for the organization’s dog, and the animal will often “graduate” with this designated member. Sororities,

though, don’t seem to have the same affinity for a house dog. This is another issue that often arises with dogs on campus, as the ownership of land can determine if an organization can have a pet. If a Greek organization owns its own land, it can have a dog. This presents a problem for many of the national sororities and fraternities, which are located in college-owned houses. Support dogs, on the other hand, are closer to a service dog than to a pet. Allie Fudge ’18, who lives with an emotional support dog, calls them “pet[s] with privileges.” Student Accessibility Services director Ward Newmeyer describes support dogs as “animals that are not service animals, but also aren’t pets.” The role of a support animal, however, is not always a simple and uniform one. Fudge said her dog, Kelsie Iris, is learning commands specific to her needs, but other dogs can provide support for their owners with just their presence. As Newmeyer describes it, some people find solace or encouragement just by knowing that there is someone waiting for them at home or by having the responsibility of taking care of an animal. With each of these designations, though, comes a different set of training, and it is easier to train pets to become emotional support animals than service animals. With proper documentation from a mental health professional and a series of paperwork from SAS, students can have live-in support animals. SAS’ support animal policy has allowed a few dogs across campus, as well as a miniature horse and chinchilla, Fudge said. Although it is not as difficult to designate a dog as an emotional support animal, being the tier below service dog poses some problems.

Service dogs have full access. As Fudge puts it, “wherever a wheelchair can go, a service dog can go. The Fair Housing Act of 1988 is the important legal precedent that distinguishes support animals from pets. While establishments like restaurants and movie theaters sometimes feel they have a good reason not to allow pets, housing is different, particularly because these animals often provide the most support because they can live with their owners. Although the College is a private institution, it uses the Fair Housing Act as a vital element in determining support animal status on campus. Although he explained that these pets are not “specifically trained to mitigate a disability,” he said they have equal housing rights and provide a lot of support, particularly for issues of mental health and wellbeing. Emotional support dogs, on the other hand, only have guaranteed access to airplanes and housing. Fudge has had to ask for explicit permission to enter each individual building with Kelsie Iris. Many spaces on campus have refused to allow her to bring Kelsie Iris inside, which is why she said she is working on training Kelsie Iris to be a service dog. Fudge says Kelsie Iris gives her “a lot more independence from myself.” Aside from just entering buildings on campus, emotional support dogs are not guaranteed to be allowed in class, and Fudge said professors “aren’t allowed to give permission” to let them in. Engineering professor Jason Stauth said one student brought a dog to his class for parts of the term. The student told him about it at the beginning of the term, and he said there have not been any issues since. “I was perfectly fine with it,” he

said. He said it has not been distracting in his class, and he “hope[s] that the student wouldn’t feel shy about having the animal.” It may seem counter-productive that professors are not allowed to choose whether or not they are comfortable with an emotional support animal in their classroom. The animals are generally well-trained and help to make their students healthier and happier. Stauth said he wanted to make his student feel as comfortable as possible. Newmeyer said that the College’s legal counsel advised against allowing animals in class and that the policy on faculty not being able to make decisions on the matter has been in place for a long time. Although it is a significant life adjustment to take care of another living creature, Fudge feels it is worth the extra time. Kelsie Iris has already helped her in real-life crises. As part of her training to gain service dog distinction, Fudge has taught her more than 50 commands and six disability mitigating tasks. Fudge said that awareness of these animals and their roles are not very high on campus, and this is another problem she has had to deal with. People will often pet Kelsie Iris even when she’s wearing her “on-duty” vest, which has multiple “do not pet” signs on it. Kelsie Iris has a blog, lots of social media and an email. The blog features tips for interacting with service dogs and is a great resource for people who are not aware of how to interact with these animals. With the College’s relatively new policy, it will be interesting to see how support animals on campus develop over the years. Frat dogs and service animals aren’t the only species on this campus, and it’s important that people are aware of

MIRROR //3

THE D RUNS THE

NUMBERS 91

The percent of members of the Class of 2017 who participated in DOC First-Year Trips

1988 The year the first local sorority, Sigma Delta, was founded at Dartmouth

10

The number of steps in the Canine Good Citizen test

579 The total number of arts and sciences faculty in the fall of 2012

3, 8

The number of local and national sororities on campus, respectively Faith Rotich/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF

Allie Fudge ’18 hangs out with her support dog, Kelsie Iris, on the Green.


4// MIRROR

Help Wanted SPOTLIGHT

B y caroline berens

In May 1992, Thomas Cormen, vying for a position in the mathematics and computer science department, had a lot on his mind. Cormen, then working toward his Ph.D. from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, was interviewing at an unusual time for prospective professor candidates. Most apply in the fall and, if they are contacted for an interview, visit campus in the winter before learning about their status in the spring to allow time for the move. By the spring of 1992, though, the mathematics and computer science department had failed to hire any new professors. In a rare instance, rather than trying again the following year, the department began a second round of interviews. In Bradley Hall — torn down a few years later — Cormen endured the stifling heat throughout his interview and colloquium, a presentation in which a professorial candidate presents their research to their respective department. “The colloquium is a very hard talk to give,” Cormen said. “You have essentially one hour to convince people that your work is cool and fundable and that you’d be a good teacher and colleague.” Although most candidates are taken out to dinner after their day of interviewing, presenting and touring, Cormen had no interest. Instead, he opted to go out for ice cream with faculty members. Cormen was later offered a position and is now the chair of the computer science department. Not all applicants are so lucky. Just as thousands of gifted high school seniors dream of attending an Ivy League school, it’s the ambition of many recent Ph.D. recipients pursuing academia to teach at one. As arduous and competitive as college admissions are, the process of securing a teaching position is perhaps even more onerous and selective. Cormen explained that the process begins with a retreat for deans during the summer, at which they discuss how many positions they will allocate to each department. If a department decides it wants to hire, it outlines parameters — specifically, how many positions they’re looking to fill and in which research areas. Engineering professor John Zhang, for example, explained that the engineering department mostly hires in medicine, engineering and complex systems. The department then puts out an advertisement in appropriate areas after it is reviewed by the Institutional Office of Equity and Diversity. Classics department chair Roberta Stewart said that for positions in the humanities, the advertisement might be posted in standard academic publications like the Chronicle of Higher Education, while Cormen said for others like computer science it could be put in the communications of the Association for Computing Machinery. Stewart noted that some disciplines use listervs as well. Stewart emphasized that departments try to extend their reach to an extensive pool of applicants, including prospective faculty who live abroad. Sometimes, Cormen and Zhang noted, departments will actively recruit exemplary applicants. Cormen said that a distinct feature of advertisements for positions at the College, at least in the computer science department, is that they require individuals to boast their teaching chops. “We’re one of the few high research universities where our ad says at least one of the reference letters must comment on teaching,”

Cormen explained. Stewart said that although advertisements for positions in the classics department do not have the same requirement, all letters ultimately mention an individual’s teaching. Cormen referenced a favorite quote of his colleague, computer science professor David Kotz: “At most universities, research is up here,” Cormen said, raising a hand above his head, “and teaching is down here,” putting his other hand flat on the table. “But at Dartmouth, research and teaching,” he added as he raised both hands to a level plane above his head, “are both up here.” He told the story of a friend of his, a professor at an unspecified university, who encountered the opposite philosophy. “Her dean told her, ‘I don’t care about your teaching — I don’t even care about your publishing. All I care about is how much money you bring into the department,’” Cormen explained. His friend, he said, left her position at that university. Still, Cormen did note that another reason some candidates decline positions at the College is its overly high expectation of teaching. “We expect more teaching than a lot of other places — there are some places where you teach one course and are done. So it might be amount of teaching, or the pressure to teach well,” Cormen explained. Next, potential candidates apply for positions. Although it varies by discipline, the application package is standard — a CV, research statement, a teaching certification or statement and letters of recommendation. Stewart said that some applicants include course evaluations from students they have taught, but she can be skeptical of those. “Those can be tough to evaluate because some people cherry-pick,” she said. Cormen said that candidates do not necessarily have to have a master’s degree, but must have a Ph.D. or be ABAD — an acronym that stands for all but dissertation, meaning the applicant is on track to receive their Ph.D. soon. This was the case with Cormen. Hired alongside his friend from MIT, Cliff Stein, Cormen was still ABAD, whereas Stein had finished his dissertation. This meant Cormen would have the title of instructor until he completed his degree, while Stein would be an assistant professor. Perhaps feeling a little competitive, Cormen said he worked tirelessly to finish his dissertation the summer before coming to Hanover. “The thought that I’d be here with [Stein], a good friend of mine, and I’d be an instructor and he’d be an assistant professor was very good motivation to finish up my dissertation that summer to avoid that situation,” Cormen said, laughing. Once applications are received, a recruiting committee assembles in each department to review. “The committee has to put in a tremendous amount of effort,” Zhang said. “There could be up to two hundred applicants, depending on the opening.” Once the associate deans and IDE give the okay, those selected are contacted for an interview. If the position is temporary, Stewart says, it’s usually done over FaceTime or Skype. For tenure track positions, however, candidates are invited to campus. Unfortunately, the visits are done during a largely unfavorable time for Hanover. “We do the interviews at the worst possible time — in the winter,” Cormen said. “I wish we


MIRROR //5

[would] do them at another time, but that’s the season.” To work at the Thayer School of Engineering, Zhang had to give two seminars during his visit. The first was a talk, open to the public, where he had to explain his research in such a clear way that “a grandma could understand it.” The second was a smaller presentation to the department where he described his value as a teacher. Stewart said that in the classics department, students attend a candidate’s lecture and fill out detailed questionnaires afterward. She said she appreciates and values the emphasis on getting student feedback. “What adds the pressure is that you have to convey your ideas very clearly in a defined time frame,” Zhang said. “But as a professor, you should always be ready to talk about things in a concise way.” Zhang said that the lunch he had with students during his visit was what ultimately sold him on Dartmouth. Students’ openness and honesty increased the appeal of campus, he said. Once these visits end, the committee convenes to discuss each applicant’s strengths and weaknesses. Students who met with the candidate are also included in the discussion process. After a vote, final decisions are made, and the dean or department chair begins calling candidates to make offers. That’s when the strategizing can begin. “You make the first two offers to A and B, if A turns down offer it to C, if B turns it down make offer to D,” Cormen explained. Cormen said that in his experience, candidates are almost always interviewing at other institutions, but that these institutions vary greatly — they are not just other Ivies. He noted that last year the computer science department lost a candidate to the University of Indiana, and a few years prior, an applicant took a job at the University of Rochester before the College had offered them a job. Competition, he said, can result from Hanover’s geography. Many applicants might prefer working in a city. “Our location mostly works against us,” Cormen said. Stewart qualified Cormen’s thinking. When considering taking a position, she said, there is a lot more that goes into the decision than the College’s academic reputation. “Most people are looking at the job, the quality of the students, the resources the college has — those attractive features,” she said. She noted that one of her colleagues left because he disliked Hanover’s small size, but that people generally focus on the job itself. Cormen also mentioned what’s called the “two-body problem” — when a candidate declines a job because their partner or spouse cannot find suitable work in the area. In rarer cases, that might really be a one-body problem, where a single candidate turns down the job in fear that there aren’t enough romantic prospects in the area. Biology Ph.D. student Vivek Venkataraman explained that it can difficult to reconcile priorities in these situations. “There are trade-offs with personal life versus professional life,” Venkataraman said. Zhang, who worked at University of Texas at Austin for nine years, said that he came to the College when he had a clearer professional agenda and priorities. He said, however, that he enjoyed beginning his career as a professor in a large city like Austin. Professors who begin their careers at

the College might not be afforded the same benefits. “Dartmouth’s location and size play dual roles,” Zhang said. “It can be a disadvantage in terms of convenience [and] access to certain locations.” If a candidate decides to accept the position, he or she will often return to Hanover with a spouse or family and meet with a local realtor. The yield rate for professors, however, varies greatly according to discipline. “You’d think at Dartmouth, being as good a school as it is, we’d get our pick of faculty,” Cormen said. “But out battering average tends to be pretty low.” He said that last year — when the computer science department made seven offers and filled three positions — that was “really good.” Cormen noted, however, that the low yield rate is in line with other elite universities. Cormen said that at Princeton University, for example, under half of the offers it made last year were ultimately accepted. Cormen attributes this to the fact that the College is ambitious in its aim to hire the most outstanding people in individual fields. “We try for the very best people, and we’re competing against other top institutions and several with much bigger research programs,” he explained. Stewart, however, has had a very different experience in the classics department. She said that throughout her career here, there have only been two people who turned down a position in her department. They both did so because of the two-body problem. She said that some other disciplines are more “sellers’ markets,” which might contribute to the disparity in yield rate. Some Ph.D. students may feel more like buyers than sellers. “There’s not a whole lot of jobs out there for biologists and anthropologists,” ecology and evolutionary biology Ph.D. student Tom Kraft said. “It’s certainly a concern a lot of people have, purely the numbers game.” Stewart said that the increasingly impressive quality of applicants makes the process even more competitive. “There is an enormous number of Ph.D.s right now,” Stewart said. “People work really hard and are really smart, which means the quality of applications is stellar.” In the humanities, she said, there simply are not enough spots to hire all of them. “It’s wonderful, on the one hand, for us — we have a choice of some truly remarkable people,” Stewart said. “But it’s hard on the other side for the job applicant.” Kraft also noted that the process can become even tougher if you have a significant other. “The competition is so high that universities have little incentive to offer a position to someone with whom you need to move,” Kraft said. Kraft and Venkatraman both said that they enjoy graduate school, but Venkataraman noted that people sometimes no longer find it worth doing when they could be getting paid twice as much elsewhere. Also, he explained, the academic environment might not be what they originally envisioned. “Academia is full of politics,” he said. Perhaps this, coupled with what Zhang called an “incredibly rigorous” application process, is what makes securing professorship so difficult. But ultimately, Cormen said, this process is the nature of a competitive, elite institution. “Slots are precious at Dartmouth,” Cormen Alison Guh/THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF said. “They don’t hand them out like candy.” Ali Dalton/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF


National No More How the three local sororities came to be SPOTLIGHT

B y Maggie Shields

It’s 1976, and change is brewing in Hanover. A group of Dartmouth women feel that the College’s social scene does not fit their needs, so they contact the national sorority Sigma Kappa to discuss establishing a chapter on campus. That spring, the sorority’s first pledge class sees an immense turnout. Flash forward to 1988 and seven more national sororities have been established on campus. Still, some of them feel that the ideas and rituals of their national governing bodies do not match up with the social needs of women at Dartmouth. So what has happened when sororities decide to go local? Following the establishment of campus’ first sororities, the College’s affiliated women began debating the possibility of localization for many years. Sigma Delta sorority was the first to follow through on this in 1988 when it disaffiliated from its national Sigma Kappa, and Epsilon Kappa Theta sorority followed suit four years later when it disaffiliated from its national Kappa Alpha Theta. Kappa Delta Epsilon sorority was established as a local sorority from the beginning in the place of Xi Kappa Chi, which disaffiliated from the national Alpha Chi Omega in 1990. Going local, however, means a lot more than just swapping a Kappa for a Delta or an Alpha. After these women made the momentous decision to strike out on their own, they had to create a new identity for their organization. Christen O’Connor ’87, the alumni advisor to EKT at the time of the sorority’s localization, remembers this process as a difficult one. “I would say [the most difficult part was] just having to recreate themselves,” she said. “Everything from deciding on their name, their colors, their symbols, traditions and rituals. We wanted to fill in all those things we had as a national in a short period of time in order to create continuity.” Despite the fact that the current members at Kappa Alpha Theta had decided to become their own organization, they were concerned that the alumni of the Dartmouth chapter may be disappointed in this decision. In reality, O’Connor said, the alumni reacted positively and continued to feel a strong connection to the College and the house, having known about that this debate had been happening for sometime at KAT and other houses on campus. KAT had a rocky relationship with nationals for many years, and when the members announced their decision, a visiting chapter representative came to the house, took some of their furniture and insisted that anyone who affiliated with the new EKT would lose affiliation with KAT, including alumni. O’Connor explained that this left many seniors and recent alumni with a difficult decision. “That was something painful,” she said. “We did have some sisters who chose to keep national affiliation.” Then-assistant dean for residential life and director of Greek Letter Organizations and Societies Deborah Carney remembers this as a distressing process. “The emotional toll was painful,” she said. “If you have a group of women that are sisters, some sisters wanted to be KATs and others didn’t. Your organization gets splintered because of that. [Then-sorority president Karen Febeo ’93] did an excellent job of bringing the remaining people together. It was difficult

for her, too, because she cared about all her sisters.” Once these initial kinks were worked out, the EKT members had to navigate the process of forming the new organization. Having a mentor and an advocate in the administration was essential to making this process work, as very few sororities had tried it before. O’Connor remembered that Carney, also an alumna of KAT, made the success of the new organization possible. Carney remembers that after going through a “divorce” process with the national, building the local sorority was just about figuring out the nuts and bolts of the constitution, insurance and other fundamental things. Because the organization already had a house and many organizational structures left in place from their time affiliated with the national chapter, they were able to be successful in their transition to a local sorority. “They just folded into scene as EKT,” Carney remembers. “There was an excitement for them because they were starting something new and fresh.” The process for the formation of KDE from scratch did not involve the same problems of disaffiliation from a national organization, and their process required the sorority to construct a identity and traditions for the new house without any national history upon which to build. Xi Kappa Chi, the local sorority that occupied the house where KDE is now, was struggling with finances and small numbers. The Panhellenic Council and Carney decided it was best to replace the organization with the new local sorority KDE. Then-Panhell president, Rachel Perri ’94, wrote an opinion column in The Dartmouth explaining that she wished to see more social options for

women on campus. Because the college would not support expansion of the Greek system with the creation of another sorority, Panhell decided to replace Xi Kappa Chi, the member numbers of which were dwindling, with a new sorority. All but one of the Xi Kappa Chi sisters was a senior, but a couple of them helped the new KDEs navigate the process of forming their own sorority. Panhell needed 40 sophomore women to commit to the new sorority and forgo the rush process, but interest went far beyond that once a strong group of women committed and more followed suit. “The Xi Kappa Chi women were selfless,” Carney remembers. “They helped the local women become strong, they helped them with structure, they mentored them and I was so proud of them because it was hard for them.” Carney also points to the group of women who decided to join KDE as a reason for its success. “It just so happened that they got 50 women together who did not want to go through recruitment, it just worked and a group of senior and junior women who were willing to give up what they had fought so hard for so that another group could start,” she said. The group of sophomore women who were now KDEs had to write their own constitution and establish new traditions for their house. The women who joined the new house knew they were taking a risk, as they would not have the certainty or community of an established organization, but it presented an opportunity to create an organization better suited to the needs of Dartmouth women. Sophomore summer was an excellent time for them to do this, and the house had already begun to establish an identity and a place for themselves on campus by the time classes began in the

fall. While discussions of localization have arisen for decades due to concerns about gender equality and female-dominated social spaces, O’Connor believes that these are not the primary reasons a sorority decides to go local. Debates about these issues have stimulated debate about other issues such as making sororities more inclusive both economically and socially. These are the reasons that sororities went local in the late 1980s and early 19w90s and continue to be dominant factors on campus to today. Panhell vice president of policy and research Carly Schnitzler ’16 explained that current students can learn from the past. “I think that everything we have learned from the past is that it is on a case-by-case basis and different by house,” she said. “It’s been important to mediate the relationship with the house and national and the administration.” Even now, if sororities attempt to go local, they must be careful to let their potential new members know of the intention. Danielle Kimball ’17 explained how the recruitment process could be difficult for sororities in the transition stage between going local from national. “During rush people make a big deal about the differences between local and national,” she said. “If it were ambiguous as to whether or not a house was going to be national or local, girls who want one or the other may feel more comfortable somewhere else.” Evidentially, it is difficult for organizations to go through the divorce process with their national and then forming a new organization on campus. But the women who took the risk to do this reaped the rewards of having organizations better suited to their needs as Dartmouth women.

Katelyn Jones/THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF

Epsilon Kappa Theta sorority disaffliliated from its national organization Kappa Alpha Theta in 1992, with help from Christen O’Connor ’87.


FRIDAYS WITH MARIAN

MIRROR //7

Boots and RallIES COLUMN

By Aaron Pellowski

COLUMN By Marian Lurio

Ahh, Green Key. There were some interesting moments at Friday’s concert. T-Pain didn’t respond to any of the multiple tweets I sent him (and have since deleted), and I’m still heartbroken. Screw you, T-Pain! Sorry I’m not a stripper (yet… graduation is fast approaching). At least I think I can beat out Mama June, Honey Boo Boo’s mom, who has recently been heading out to perform at the strip club. T-Pain exited the stage (and my heart) with no warning, as if nothing had happened. I thought what we had was real. In a similar vein, I like when artists say, “Dartmouth is crazy! You guys are awesome!” because clearly this is not the rowdiest college crowd they have performed for. Post-Green Key, I’m feeling rather sentimental about my time at Dartmouth. While I would be happy failing my way to a fifth year, it seems that I will indeed have to leave Hanover in June. Maybe, though, it’s for the best. A lot has changed, and I can’t say it’s for the better. I imagine that when the time comes for the Class of 2015’s five-year reunion, the campus will have plunged into a Hunger Games-style free-for-all. Despite the physical demands of a fight to the death, Dartmouth students will no longer be the insanely fit people that they currently are. The pure consumption of beer after beer after beer is going to take its toll, and the dad-bod will be considered a beautiful, toned physique. Will these changes last or will students cast off the shackles of the hard alcohol ban and pound shots like normal pre-alcoholic college students? One of Alcoholics Anonymous’s founders is a Dartmouth grad, and let me just say I don’t see a reason to break with this tradition of frequent casual binge drinking. The ball is in your court, Phil. The highlight of my time at Dartmouth, however, didn’t involve alcohol. This place is special. Some here are MENSA inductees. Some are functional alcoholics. I am neither of those things. At the very least, I am certainly not functional. No, my favorite moment of my time at Dartmouth wasn’t stargazing at the golf course, diving into the Connecticut River to undertake the Ledyard Challenge or completing the 50. It should surprise no one that my favorite memory as a Dartmouth student is watching the live-feed of the sit-in in Phil’s office

last year. Is there anything sexier than that mustached cam guy? The only thing sexier than the thrill of voyeurism is the certainty that the object of your desire will be plastered across Huffington Post in the morning. But a young lady looking for love doesn’t always happen upon a scorching webcam of the President’s Office. In the absence of livestreamed protests, I must resort to watching critically-acclaimed films. The Cannes Film Festival is an iconic, starstudded event, and — until just a few days ago — that was basically the extent of my knowledge about it. But alas, it has come to my attention that female attendees are being turned away for wearing flats instead of heels. As a feminist of a certain height — 5’9” — this policy enrages me. This is basically the opposite rule of women’s footwear at Dartmouth. Nothing is more harrowing than when I am driving down the highway in New Jersey and bikers surround my car on either side. And, seriously, this really only happens to me in New Jersey. Shocking, I know. As you’re probably aware, nine people died and 18 were injured in a Waco, Texas, shootout between biker gangs. I have no patience for these biker gangs that are filled with creepy old white men. Some Americans are lucky enough to make it to jail… and then spend a decade or more in a certain Maryland correctional facility, only to become a household name — and the true keeper of my heart (and not just to make T-Pain jealous). Yes, it’s been a long time since I’ve discussed Adnan, but don’t you worry readers, the fire in my heart still burns like a wildfire ravaging a drought-stricken California. But back to the recent developments in Adnan’s case. The biggest question in my mind remains: What does Adnan look like today? Why are there no pictures of him? So frustrating. But sometimes the imagination can work wonders on this sort of thing. ;) The second question that I will never let drop: What happened to Hae Min Lee? According to CNN, Adnan has been granted permission to file a request to reopen his case in a lower court. Will my jailbird lover be given another chance to be tried for the crime he most likely committed? Only time will tell. Convicted murderer or not, he’ll always have my heart.

Of all the genres of music trending among the kids these days, it’s hip-hop and rap that present themselves as the most consistently engaged in enigmatic epistemic claims. “You know what it is,” incants Wiz Khalifa on his celebrated track “Black and Yellow.” “This is a thousand dollar cup of lean,” says Rocko, “U.O.E.N.O it.” And T.I.: “Yeah, you know they call me T.I., but you don’t know me!” It’s a musical realm riddled with strange assertions about what we, as listeners, do or do not know. What is it, anyway, that Wiz Khalifa is so sure we know? Philadelphia? Darn right I know what Philadelphia is. About time somebody with a voice acknowledged it. And how about that thousand dollar cup of lean Rocko says I don’t know about? Odd, because you just told me about it, Rocko. What an exquisite paradox! Knowledge is such a fickle and precious institution. My parents always told me, “It’s not what you know but who you know” — a proposition that rankled me for years as I devoured flat facts and became a nationally competitive quiz bowl player. Knowing thousands of things about art history and Greek mythology might have landed me a fat stack of medals and ribbons, but it sure didn’t do diddly for me when I got to college. My sense of how much knowledge was out there to be had, and how much of it I have myself, has also exploded in my face. Even zanier have been the results of a protracted informal experiment I’ve conducted into what most people call “common knowledge” over the past few years. Common knowledge is what, we suppose, most everybody knows. Alaska is cold, George Washington is on the one-dollar bill, Pluto’s not a planet anymore, dinosaurs are gone and so on. What’s queer is how wrong we can be about the items on the fringes of common knowledge and how we react when we find out we’re wrong. This curiosity of mine was born during a sophomore summer class when a professor opened, “Take the example of a quark. Everyone knows what a quark is, right?” To which one student responded “No, what is that?” I gawked. Surely, anyone rightfully enrolled in an Ivy League school — nay, any serious institution of higher learning at all — would know what a quark is. I recounted this story to a group of my peers later that evening to find that several also did not know what a quark is. Some had a vague idea that quarks had something to do with science, but that was it. Those who did know what a quark was, however, were likewise aghast at those who did not. Two

other incidents repeated the phenomenon. After an argument over whether a bottle of champagne would suffice to fulfill a debt of a bottle of wine to me (since, my opponent maintained, champagne isn’t wine), I polled almost 40 of my friends to see whether they could settle the disagreement. Many were sure that champagne wasn’t a kind of wine — it was as different from wine as beer. But those who knew that champagne is indeed a kind of wine were incredulous at their peers’ apparent ignorance. The last example was the Sierpinski triangle, a paradigmatic fractal which, for some reason, I thought everyone knew about. I asked an entire party full of Dartmouth students and not one recognized the name. The point isn’t that I know so much stuff and I’m surrounded by a spectrum of fools, for oftentimes I find myself in the center of a conversation about a topic that everyone is apparently quite familiar with, yet which is perfectly obscure to me (e.g. the Pac/Mayweather fight of recent weeks). It’s just that most people go about their doggy lives with a little too much confidence in the gross similarities of their knowledge bases compared to those of their fellow synergoi in the struggle of human life. And my findings, (which I consider remarkable, have your own opinion if you’d like) are drawn from a relatively homogeneous, small body of contemporaries. Imagine how drastic the disparities in common worldviews between a Texan and an Amazon, a Persian and an Incan, Kony and a Brony? One of my high school teachers said of me once, but not in my presence, that, “The thing about Horowitz is that one day he’s going to realize that he’s not as smart as he thinks he is. But it will happen in the middle of the night, so no one else will ever know.” That prophecy has more or less come to pass, not once but repeatedly. College has been a Sisyphean exercise in acquiring the most terrible and necessary knowledge out there — knowing ever more precisely just how smart, cool, good or attractive I am and so on. It’s harsh knowledge, in a way, because it thwarts the twin comforts of false hope and baseless self-deprecation. It requires you, a la Socratic conceit, to admit that your wisdom consists in knowing just how little you know — if you know anything at all — to be the stinging gadfly of your own sluggish horse. I came to this liberal arts education with little expectation for the know-how, know-whom or know-what it would teach me. Dartmouth doesn’t teach you how to love, how to learn for yourself, how to live freely. At least, I can fairly say, Dartmouth taught me how to Dougie.


8// MIRROR

Arthur and Enid Come to Dartmouth When two old people swing by Hanover, chaos ensues. Satire

B y Mary Liza Hartong AND Andrew Kingsley

Enid: So sweet of you to invite us to grandparents weekend, Eliot. Our little Dartmouth kitten! Arthur: It’s too hot here. It’s nice and cold out at our lake house. Enid: Hush! We’re seeing his play. We’re supporting the arts. They’re turning off the house lights. Shut off your pager, sweetie. Eliot: Thanks, Gam Gam, but this isn’t my play. It’s my 10A, and it’s about to start. Why don’t you guys get a bit to eat at FoCo? Arthur: It’s too early for cocoa. Enid: Sweetheart, you know Grandpa has diabetes. He can’t just drink sugar willy-nilly. Eliot *shaking his head*: Go outside and ask someone where the Class of 1953 Commons is. You can eat breakfast there. Arthur: Well why didn’t you just say so? If you’re in a play you gotta articulate. Here’s a good tongue twister — Love others as yourself. I can never get myself to say that. *2 hours later, Arthur and Enid arrive at FoCo.* FoCo employee: DBA or meal swipe? Enid: I was on the PTA when my daughter was in third grade. Arthur: I think PDA is disgusting. Keep your fingers in your gloves, you loose-lipped Larrys, that’s what I say. DDS employee: Meal swipe? Enid: Oh! We’re supposed to swipe his hand, like a high five. Yes, we’ll swipe. Arthur, swipe! Arthur: Men don’t touch other men’s hands. Enid: Pretend it’s a handshake with Whimbly Hornblower at the club and you’re closing a deal. I’m starving! Arthur: Fine, you shrew. Enid: Ain’t nobody tamed me yet! *The long line accumulates.* Arthur *high-fiving FoCo employee*: Swipe! Enid: Swipe! *FoCo employee shakes head, deciding not to deal with this* Enid: How do I work the coffee?

Arthur: Waiter? Waiter? No service! Just shake that can until it comes out somewhere. Shake it like a naughty grandchild. Enid *knocks the entire coffee area to the ground*: NOT A DROP! Garçon? Arthur: Enid, you can’t even drink coffee anymore. Your kidneys can’t take it. Enid: Oh poop. Arthur: That too. Enid: Why don’t we just get a waffle and settle down? *Walk to waffle maker* Arthur: Those waffles are made out of metal! Enid: Silly gosling, you put the waffle juice in the metal waffles. No wonder you starved when you cheated on me and I moved out for a week. Arthur: Enid — stop living in the past! Enid: Fine. Fill ’er up. Arthur *cups hands, pours batter, flings it onto waffle maker*: Take that, commie! Enid: It’ll take an hour to cook so we might as well explore town. Arthur *waving to FoCo employee*: See you on the other side of the waffle, junior! Enid: Eliot told me we can see pictures at the library. The Jones Cineplex. Sounds fancy! Arthur: I could really go for a good kneeslapper. *They enter the Jones Media Center.* Jones employee: Hi, how can I help you? Enid: We’d like two tickets to “Polio: A Love Story.” Arthur: No, no! Two tickets to “Sock Hop 2.” Enid: Too sad! How about something scary like “Utah: The New Frontier?” Arthur: You know what let’s compromise. We both love that new flick, “50 Shades of Grey Hair.” Heartbreaking but oh-so-sensual. Enid: You’re gonna go grey someday, young man, and you’d best be prepared! Jones employee: Do you mean “50 Shades of Grey?” Arthur: That’s what we said!

Jones employee: Can I please see your card? Enid: SWIPE! Arthur: SWIPE! *Jones employee shakes head, retrieves DVD.* Jones employee: Whatever. We have two copies. Enid: What’s this silver donut? Arthur: We already had breakfast. Jones employee: It’s a DVD. Enid: TNT? Drop it! Run, Arthur! *They flee the scene.*Arthur *outside*: That was a close one! Enid *looking at FoCo*: Look at that burning building! Is it homecoming already? Hooray ’18’s! Get ’em up boys! *A cappella group assembles and begins to sing on the Green.* Arthur: Look at those poor boys. No money for instruments. Enid: That’s what happens when you go into the arts. Oliver Twist! Arthur: They’re dancing like flapper girls. And no flutes! Not a tuba in sight! Enid: We’re supposed to give them money. Take off your sweater, sweetie. They need it more than you do. We have so much. We’re so fortunate. Arthur: I won’t take off my sweater in front of another man. Enid: Pretend it’s the war and you’re giving your sweater to your buddy Septimus to stop the bleeding. Arthur *eyes glazing over*: No, Septimus! Speak to me, Septimus! Enid: Exactly. Young man! Young man! *She grabs the collar of the beat boxer.* Enid: Stop lisping. And it’s rude to spit! Listen to me. Do you need money? Are you drugs? Arthur: He could be herpes! Let go, Enid! Enid: I saw “Rent Money,” the movie with the dancers. He needs help or he will start singing the song with all the numbers.

Arthur: Oh yeah. $4,022 dollars in 15 minutes. Poor kids. That SUV disease killing ’em all. *A cappella group starts singing “Seasons of Love.”* Enid: The devil’s music! Let’s find Eliot. His play must be over by now. *They return to the VAC where Eliot’s class is.* Arthur: Excuse me, ma’am, we’re looking for the ADD. For the arts. Student: Do you mean the VAC? Enid: Tomato frittata. Student: Just go through the Hood, and you’ll be there. Arthur: We most certainly will NOT! I’ve been mugged enough times in Europe. Enid: Is it at least being gentrified? Student: Ma’am it’s a museum. Arthur: That seems wrong. You’re not supposed to stare at them. Haven’t they suffered enough? *They happen upon the VAC.* Enid: The Black Family Visual Arts Center. Good for them. Arthur: ELIOT? Where is he? Excuse me, sir? *They begin prodding the Native American statue.* Enid: Do you know Eliot? He’s a performer. Eliot: Hey Gam Gam! Why are you talking to that statue? Enid: Statue? More like tall drink of water! He’s so poised. Unlike Grandpa. He almost blew us up today. Arthur: She made me go to the hood! This is a dangerous place you live in. Eliot: Well, guys, I hate to tell you but the bus back to the nursing home is here to get you. I’ll see you next time. Enid: Okay, sugar. Ta ta! Arthur: Stay strong, sonny. No ATV for you. Stay away from lispers, herpes, the hoods and the donuts. Capiche? Eliot: What? Enid *winking*: You know what we mean.

Anthony Chicaiza/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF

Kathleen Rao/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF


Turn static files into dynamic content formats.

Create a flipbook
Issuu converts static files into: digital portfolios, online yearbooks, online catalogs, digital photo albums and more. Sign up and create your flipbook.