MIR ROR 2.15.2017
LETTING THEIR VOICES BE HEARD | 4-5
GUO: I LOVE YOU, TOO | 6
WIEN: LOVE IS AN ASYMPTOTE | 7 WILLOW PAGAN AND ERIC WANG/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
2 //MIRR OR
Editors’ Note
Caring for others brings benefits STORY
We were somewhere around hour four of layout when a group of flair-clad singers entered the production room. They were the Dartmouth Dodecaphonics, there to serenade Ray, our editor-in-chief. After all, Ray loves the news and it loves him back. After the Dodecs left, Ray confessed that he had initially thought they were Boloco delivery people. That’s what happens when you spend five nights a week on second-floor Robo. (By the way, here’s some free marketing advice for the Boloco people: Dress your delivery drivers in party hats and teach them to sing a cappella. It would be so much more fun.) In this week’s Mirror, we explore many different kinds of love, not just the type that you saw in yesterday’s overwhelming volume of couple Instagram posts. We sat down with leaders of V-Feb; students who volunteer to care for children in the Upper Valley; and Cindy Pierce, a hilarious sex educator whose “talk” is much different than the one that you may have received in seventh grade. So whether your Valentine’s Day was filled with serenades, Boloco take-out, or, ideally, both, we hope you found some time to reflect on those who you love and those who love you.
follow @thedmirror 2.15.17 VOL. CLXXIV NO. 30 MIRROR EDITORS MICHAELA LEDOUX ALEXANDRA PATTILLO LUCY TANTUM EDITOR-IN-CHIEF RAY LU
PUBLISHER RACHEL DECHIARA
EXECUTIVE EDITOR ERIN LEE
By Chloe Jennings
For most Dartmouth students, Valentine’s Day elicits images of heart-shaped chocolates and cozy dinners at Pine. However, if Valentine’s Day is a day to care for others, then caring for others involves much more than just CVS cards and red roses. One way that Dartmouth students care for others is by volunteering with organizations that do outreach in the Upper Valley. By giving their time to these organizations, Dartmouth students give back to others, while fulfilling themselves. Brad Hubsch ’19 described his experience with OLE, or Outdoor Leadership Experience, a volunteer organization through which Dartmouth students lead outdoor trips for local middle school students. As Hubsch explained, a group of about four Dartmouth students visit the Indian River School in Canaan, New Hampshire each week. The outdoor trips that these students lead range anywhere from apple picking to sledding to backpacking. For Hubsch, volunteering for OLE is a form of stress release. “When you go out there and volunteer, you really have no choice but just to forget about all your stress from school and just enjoy your time with these kids,” Hubsch said. “Because they’re kids, they say the first thing that comes to their head all the time, so I’ve had crazy real conversations with these kids about family and sickness and loss — it’s kind of profound.” Hubsch said that the weekly OLE trips provide a healthy break for the middle school students as well. Because the students are from the surrounding area, they have already done many of the activities that OLE plans for them. However, as Hubsch said, “It’s not exactly the activity that they get out of it, but it’s more the environment and the bond[ing].”
DREAM, which stands for Directing through Recreation, Education, Adventure and Mentoring, connects Dartmouth students with local kids. In DREAM, each mentor gets paired with a mentee, who comes from one of three nearby Vermont communities. However, in addition to the one-on-one mentoring, most DREAM activities occur in a group setting, which creates an even stronger community. Every Friday, mentors pick up their mentees from home and bring them to campus where they play wallball on the squash courts, soccer on the green or pool in Collis, said Milan Chuttani ’18, one of the co-chairs for the Hollow Drive community. “Some kids look forward to this their entire week,” Chuttani said. “We’re a support system that the parents and kids really appreciate — they see us as role models.” Another program that matches Dartmouth students with mentees from the Upper Valley is SIBS. For Margot Putnam ’19, SIBS is about interacting with kids from the Upper Valley, serving as a mentor and pushing these kids out of their comfort zones. “Because I’m kind of distant from my mentee’s home life and school life, I can talk to her and give her advice about things that she might not be comfortable talking about with anyone else,” Putnam said. For many Dartmouth students, volunteering is a way of taking care of others, and by extension, taking care of themselves. By giving to others, many volunteers find that they inadvertently gain from the broadened perspective and interpersonal bonds that volunteering provides. “I probably get more out of it from them than they do from me,” Hubsch said.
MIRROR //3
’18: “I’ve never won anything before!” ’17: “But now there’s cookie dough in Collis Market!”
’20 #1: “Do you think I could accio my dignity?” ’20 #2: “In theory, yeah, but you can’t find something you never had.”
’17: “I’m gonna be completely honest: I don’t want to go out purely because I don’t feel like putting on socks.
’20: “Every time I talk to you, I think, ‘Wow, this girl is just a series of L’s’”
Visitor in KDE: “Wow, this frat’s ratio is amazing.”
Let’s talk about sex: Q&A with Cindy Pierce Q&A
By Jaden Young
Cindy Pierce is a social sexuality educator who uses humorous storytelling to encourage more enjoyable, safer and healthier sex. Pierce is a busy person. In addition to being a mother of three, she runs Pierce’s Inn in Etna, New Hampshire, gives talks on sex and has written three books, including her most recent book, “Sex, College and Social Media: A Commonsense Guide to Navigating the Hookup Culture.” Pierce speaks to college and high school students, as well as parents and educators, using a combination of expert opinions, personal anecdotes and stories she hears from students. Her willingness to inject humor into “uncomfortable” topics helps her educate people about what healthy, satisfying sexual relationships look like. The Dartmouth spoke to Pierce about sex in college, vibrators, Sexually Transmitted Infections and the search for maximum pleasure in relationships. How did you become so comfortable with speaking openly and humorously about sex? CP: Growing up with hippie siblings, I learned
a lot from listening to them talk. Being around so many women talking about sex and their bodies, I learned that you have to find humor rather than shame about your body. There’s this idea that once you hit 18, you’re an adult and you’re supposed to know all this stuff about sex, so a lot of people are afraid to ask about it or talk about it. How does hookup culture influence sexual relationships in college? CP: Hookups seem so normal now. Everyone thinks everyone else is having great sex, and everyone feels pressure to hook up because that’s what is expected. But hookups aren’t usually good sex. I know there are women who feel the need to say, “I’m empowered, I can hook up just as much as guys can,” and they can, but that’s not necessarily satisfying for anyone. I’m all for empowerment, but when I ask them if they’re actually getting pleasure from their hookups, they get quiet really fast. When people pull me aside to talk about hookups, I rarely hear about fulfilling experiences. In rare cases, I hear about people who have had amazing hookup sex, but that usually isn’t the case. Really getting to know someone, to know what is pleasurable and to feel comfortable with them leads to really good sex. You mentioned femalepleasure. Why is it elusive for so many women? CP: There are so many crazy dildos and vibrators for sale out there — you know, massive ones that look like chainsaws. It really should be simple; the [Dartmouth] Sexperts will tell you, a dildo is for penetration and a vibrator is for clitoral stimulation. And I’ve had women come up to me and say that they can’t have an
orgasm with any of the toys they’ve bought and they can’t have an orgasm with their partner. Many assume they are incapable of having orgasms or need to try something new and crazier, like swinging from a trapeze to get off. Very few women can get off with just penetration — 75 to 80 percent of women need clitoral stimulation. And what not everyone seems to get is that penetration doesn’t touch the clitoris — it’s just not going to be stimulated by that alone — so you need to stimulate it yourself or have your partner do it. I’ve asked groups of guys, “How long does it take the average woman to have an orgasm?” and out of a dozen guys, one raised his hand and said, “20 minutes, and I’d just like to point out that I’m the only gay guy here and I’m the only one who knew the answer.” But the thing is, straight guys do want to know this information but are afraid to ask. There was one time, I had talked to a fraternity one day, and I went to a sorority the next. A woman pulled me aside and told me that her boyfriend had heard me speak the day before, woke her up in the middle of the night and told her that he didn’t know how to make sure she was getting pleasured, but he understood now and they could work on it together. She said she had no idea her sex life could change so much in 24 hours. So, that felt like a triumph. Let’s talk about STIs. CP: Chlamydia, gonorrhea, herpes, HPV — they’re still rolling. They’re not going away, so it’s really important to use protection — condoms, dental dams, female condoms. Female condoms are the funniest things. When I tried one, it was just so big, like hanging down to my knees. It was not super sexy, but it’s pretty hard to catch anything when you’ve got this Hefty trash bag hanging out of you. It’s important to be safe with oral and anal sex, too. A lot of people will readily have oral or anal sex unprotected, but you do not want any of those STIs in your throat or anus. You can at least use a condom for oral — they have a bunch of flavored ones. A lot of students will say, “Oh, of course we use condoms,” but the game-time decisions are different. What role does alcohol play in sexual decision-making? CP: Alcohol is the “accepted” way to lubricate social situations. You get a drink in somebody’s hand and the awkward person suddenly feels comfortable. It doesn’t matter if it’s their first or 10th drink, their body language just completely changes. As a non-drinker, even I
COURTESY OF CINDY PIERCE
Cindy Pierce, a sexuality educator and storyteller, has performed for a variety of groups.
wish certain people had a drink so they were less uncomfortable. Alcohol gets used as an excuse for doing or saying things that you normally wouldn’t. When I was in college, the only people not drinking were this guy who had been through rehab a couple times and me. Now, I feel like there are more people who are making the choice not to drink, but the ones that do drink consume a lot more. People need to practice social courage so that lubricant isn’t so necessary. Consent is really important, with alcohol or without. This generation is really welcoming of the idea, but older people, your parents, aren’t helping you out. There are some older people who say, “If I had to get consent I would never have had sex,” but affirmative consent is a good thing. There are states where you can’t legally give consent if you have any alcohol at all in your system. It’s important to not just ask for consent once, but to keep checking in. Any final thoughts on how college students can have healthier sexual relationships? CP: Face-to-face time is really important. With all of social media and hookup apps, it’s really important to actually get to know people. You really just need to build your social courage. No one wants to feel awkward, but awkward situations happen and you’ve got to work through them. This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity and length.
4// MIRROR
Letting their v V-February is Dartmouth’s month-long initiative to educate the community about issues related to gender and sexuality, including violence against females, in the month of February. Two of the main events that take place during V-Feb, Voices and Upstaging Stereotypes, are student-written performances that focus on the many complex experiences of femininity and masculinity, respectively, at Dartmouth. The Mirror sat down with a group of students to learn more about the work that goes into creating those performances. Paulina Calcaterra ’19 is the director of Voices; Breanna McHugh ’17 wrote and will perform a piece for Voices; Maanav Jalan ’19 is co-directing Upstaging Stereotypes; and Hannah Solomon ’17 and Jessica King Fredel ’17 are on the directing team for all performances, in addition to working as OPAL student coordinators. Could you please describe what Voices and Upstaging Stereotypes are for someone who is unfamiliar with the productions? JKF: Voices is a series of monologues written and performed by self-identifying women in the Dartmouth community. It’s a completely original performance every year and was inspired by The Vagina Monologues, but we felt that we needed an updated version that reflected the Dartmouth community of women as it exists in any given moment. MJ: Upstaging [Stereotypes] is also a V-Feb performance in which performers explore masculinity and their relationship with it. In past years, it’s only been self-identifying men who have been performing in Upstaging, but this year, because Upstaging has to do with masculinity and not men, we thought we’d have people from all genders speak to their experience with masculinity. It’s something that a person of any gender has to come to terms with and experience in their lives. Why did you decide to get involved in V-Feb? HS: For me, it’s about having a conversation that’s necessary and providing a space for people to share their stories and to break out of this idea of what Dartmouth is supposed to be like, because that’s not a real thing. MJ: I think Upstaging resonated with me because I’m interested in how masculinity functions at Dartmouth and how it can, in many cases, be toxic. I wanted to be a part of that experience but also try to facilitate that process for other people at Dartmouth. BM: I really liked the experience of connecting with other people and giving a voice to something that maybe would have been missing otherwise. Hearing everyone’s stories and figuring out how my story fits into this wider web of experiences at Dartmouth has been one of the most validating experiences that I’ve ever had. What are some of the difficulties that you all face in addressing these often-sensitive issues related to gender, masculinity and femininity? PC: There’s a certain group that’s really interested in going to all the events, and that’s it. Then there’s the people who the messages really should be reaching, who are largely not going
MIRROR //5
voices be heard By Cristian Cano
to take the time to go to these sort of events. I think it’s hard to not be redundant and to push yourself to get things across to new audiences. BM: I had a similar experience trying to figure out how to frame my story in a way so that other people would be able to identify with my piece, but also have my piece push them a little bit. Also, in a parallel vein, trying to figure out how to tell my story so that it was effective but still something that I’m comfortable saying in front of conceivably any Dartmouth student or community member. MJ: I think that trying to find the balance between validating and challenging someone is difficult because we’re dealing with such personal stories here, and you don’t want to police someone’s experience. It’s also hard to curate the show because, inevitably, you’ll be centering some stories over others, and it’s hard to pick and choose. How has this programing evolved over the years? JKF: For the ’17s, our freshman year was the first time that Voices had ever happened. It was a scary thing. We didn’t know if anyone was going to try out or perform or come to the show. It was very successful, and people responded very, very well. At this point, V-Feb has taken on a position in Dartmouth where people expect to see it and are excited to see it. It’s grown a lot over the years. I’d say we probably reach more than a fourth to a third of Dartmouth’s community. If you could change one thing about the current discourse surrounding these topics, what would that be? BM: I would like to see more people having discourse. As Paulina said earlier, the audience tends to be the same core group of people. I wish that more people felt more comfortable going. I remember one time last year, a male resident of mine said, “I can’t go to The Vagina Monologues. People will think I’m gay.” Listening to women talk about themselves is gay, apparently? It didn’t make sense. I wish that people were a little less shy about engaging, because there are those who shy away because they’re not sure if it’s for them. PC: I’m tired of making everything appealing and packaging things in a way that’s supposed to reach a wide net. I wish that those groups that are very sensitive to hearing these messages would realize that they’re privileging their own comfort over the actual violence against women that’s trying to be discussed — and that those types of violence are so much worse than someone feeling a little guilty or pressured while they’re having talks about gender. There is a lot of the sense that we want to engage more audiences so we have to reach out and make this palatable, but I’m frustrated with what that means. It means that I’m stooping down to your level instead of you finding the empathy to engage with my experience. JKF: Just in terms of talking about gender on a college campus, there’s been a lot of attention on a national level about social justice and trigger warnings and privilege. I think it can sometimes become overwhelming or taken to an extreme that I think is difficult to grapple with — where do we stop? But it is, more than ever, important to be engaging in topics of gender and violence. This article has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.
6// MIRROR
Investigating the Dartmouth Seven STORY
By Marie-Capucine Pineau-Valencienne
Out of all the time-honored campus traditions, the “Dartmouth Seven” holds the prize as one of the most controversial and talked about amongst students and alums alike. In case you’re not familiar with the infamous tradition, the “Dartmouth Seven” is a list of seven places on campus to engage in sexual activity: the Green, the top of the Hopkins Center, the library stacks, the steps in front of Dartmouth Hall, the President’s lawn, the BEMA and the 50-yard line of the football field. A small number of students actually complete the list, but the possibility of being caught doesn’t deter many couples from making an attempt. The challenge is one of those Dartmouth-isms that make our student body seem much more risqué and wild than most of us actually are. It’s similar to when your friend from home inevitably makes an “Animal House” joke, to which you coolly roll your eyes despite actually trying not to look too smug as you bask in your school’s infamous reputation. If only your friends knew that finding a spot in the library during midterm season is just as difficult as parking an Escalade in Midtown Manhattan. Like our “Animal House” infamy, the Dartmouth Seven is also one of those not-so-secret sources of pride on campus. The “Seven” endows its participants with eternal bragging rights and a sense of accomplishment met only by those with a Masters title. Tegwyth Alderson-Taber ’17 explained that she had never met anyone who was embarrassed by successfully checking a Dartmouth Seven spot off the list. “I haven’t met anyone who wasn’t [proud],” Alderson-Taber said.
Catharine Roddy ’19 echoed Alderson-Taber’s assertion. “I do think that it is in some weird way a sign of achievement,” Roddy said. To investigate the origin of this infamous tradition, I headed to Rauner Special Collections Library. With its imposing Grecian columns and cathedral-like ceilings, Rauner characterizes all that is academically prestigious. The answers I was looking for could possibly lie next to the Shakespeare Folio or the collection of Robert Frost’s personal notes. Rauner is home to some of the College’s most important research materials, so what better place to find the rhyme and reason behind the Seven than the rare books collections? I asked the librarians for any and all files related to Dartmouth’s “sexual history,” to which they responded with open mouths and blank stares. Feeling a lot less journalistically important than I had before, I diverted to another tactic and found evidence of Dartmouth students “fraternizing” with the opposite sex even before women were admitted at the College. Could it be possible that the Dartmouth Seven predates the College’s transition into coeducation? Alderson-Taber thought it was possible. “It was an all-male school but there wasn’t an absence of women,” Alderson-Taber said. Prior to female students matriculating in 1972, Dartmouth boys were known to get cozy with the “seven sisters,” better known as the local all-female colleges: Wellesley, Radcliffe, Mount Holyoke, Vassar, Bryn Mawr, Barnard and Smith. Dartmouth was a staple in the New England college social scene, attracting masses of young women to the middle of New Hampshire for a
good time. The Dartmouth Seven could have originated during our school’s time as an all-male college since women visited for short periods of time, prompting the boys to engage in somewhat inappropriate behavior while they could. Big weekends such as Winter Carnival attracted many women to the male-dominated campus. A 1928 article by John Griffin from The Daily Dartmouth, found in Rauner, recounts how “600 joyful girls stepped down to a soft fleecy carpet of snow … Dartmouth’s annual winter carnival, which glorifies more American girls in a year than Ziegfeld does in a decade, thereupon became a complete and satisfying success.” One lucky lady was even crowned the “Queen of Snows” every year. As I looked through the stack of old Winter Carnival documents, I came across some dance cards from Winter Carnival balls. As I picked up the little booklets that all those boys signed while waiting in line to dance with girls, I couldn’t help but giggle at how civilized it all seemed on the surface. Come on, we all know those nice couples were racing for a good spot in the BEMA or a cozy corner of the Green once all this civility ended. Alderson-Taber theorized that the short visits from girls ignited a desire to do something “fun and crazy,” possibly like the Dartmouth Seven. Another plausible and considerably less charming theory about the origins of the Seven relates to the way that many Dartmouth students probably spent this past Winter Carnival weekend: hooking up. “Dartmouth has [a hookup culture], even more so than other places, and it’s one that has been sustained for a really long time,” Alderson-
Taber said. Alderson-Taber also remarked how the Dartmouth Seven is a tradition that reflects some aspects of the social atmosphere on campus. She guessed that the Seven “probably came from a bet or competition between guys.” Roddy, a psychology major, explained how she thought the Dartmouth Seven was just another way Dartmouth students, who are often Ivy League overachievers, compete with each other in all aspects of life, include their sex lives. “I think a lot of it comes from social insecurity,” Roddy said. “I think a lot of people try to make sex into a game because they’re insecure about it. So if you can reduce it to something to be competitive with, something that just a game, then if you lose then it’s whatever, it’s a way of deflecting.” Roddy went on to explain how the Dartmouth Seven can simplify sex into “something that is just physical.” Roddy remarked what a paradox this all was, saying “there’s emotions attached to everything,” she said. “There’s emotions attached to walking, to eating, to socializing, facial recognition — and you think sex is magically exempt from that? I think if anything it’s probably the most emotional thing you can do with someone.” The tradition of the Dartmouth Seven speaks volumes not only about our competitive streak and wild tendencies, but also our love-hate relationship with the hookup culture on campus. Whether the Seven is something you want to accomplish before you graduate or makes you wish you were just a little more of a wild child, it is one of those Dartmouth-ism that crowns us the “naughty” (aka fun) Ivy League school.
On Saturday, Dartmouth Figure Skating Club led the Occom Pond Party parade. We brought our green DFSC banner, and our coach’s 6-year-old son marched in front of us holding an American flag. Per the event organizer’s request, a few skaters performed “tricks” — spins and footwork — in the center of the pond. After ending at the ice castle and ice slide, each member of DFSC was given a medal as a thank you. We wore them proudly and spent the next hour together dancing, singing, skating and pulling each other on sleds. When “Shut Up and Dance” played on the loudspeakers, I Snapchatted the team dancing along to the chorus and sent the video to my boyfriend. “Wish I could have been there with you,” he responded 16 hours later, after he landed in Taiwan.
occasional on-campus coffee. We debriefed about our preceding week, often punctuating our stories with much-needed complaints against humanity. Like all older siblings, I worried about her; I still do. I worried that she wouldn’t discover the Dartmouth that I was lucky enough to stumble into. I worried that she wouldn’t discern the true friendships she could grow to love. I worried, of course, that she would value herself based on others’ judgments, that she would break because of boys pretending to be men. We haven’t eaten many brunches together this term. I’ve been away most weekends, and we’ve been living more separate lives. I like to think that it’s a positive change, that her homesickness has waned and her comfort has grown. Soon, though, I hope to reinstate the Guo tradition. We’ve never been to Lou’s together.
I love you, too COLUMN
By Clara Guo
I’m sitting on my bed wearing a large flannel over a free t-shirt. My laptop is open. There is only one noun on my Word document: “Love…” My friend walks into my room. She leans against the foot of my bed as we update each other about our Carnival weekend. “September wedding?” I joke. “Maybe. Either summer or fall.” “As long as there’s an open bar.” “Of course there will be an open bar. Who do you think I am??” A few more minutes of hyperbole later, my roommate, Flora, walks in. She asks if I want to go on a belated Valentine’s Day date. “Maybe not Tuesday,” she says. “I have a midterm Wednesday.” “I’m leaving Friday for the weekend.” “Thursday?” She pauses. “Nah. Thursdays aren’t good.” We settle tentatively on Wednesday. Or Friday. Two weeks ago, I asked my boyfriend how he usually spends Valentine’s Day. “A nice date,” he responded. “How else?” I didn’t have a fitting answer. The last Valentine’s Day I spent with a significant other was during my off term sophomore winter. We ate at a small restaurant in Manhattan with a preset seven-course meal. The lighting
was dim, intimate, barely illuminating the extravagant food and relaxed faces of nearly a dozen other couples. My current boyfriend is in Taiwan now and will be for the next month. We promised that we wouldn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day this year. No gifts. No nice dates. No preValentine’s Day surprises. A few days ago, on his last night visiting on the Thursday of Carnival, we ate dinner at Pine. I wore a red dress and heeled booties underneath Flora’s puffy fracket, ready for Champagne. “I feel so underdressed compared to you,” he commented. We sat next to, rather than opposite from, each other at a square table. We ordered a drink each, mine light and his heavy, holding hands while waiting for the rest of our dinner to be delivered. We shared the appetizer and our entrees, placing pieces of salmon or short rib on the other’s plate. I don’t remember what we talked about — our families? Traveling? Long distance? Probably all of the above. It was the last time we would see each other for nearly two months. Dinner was infused with a tinge of sadness, the knowledge that we would soon be missing each other without the option of a relatively easy, relatively quick remedy of a drive to or from Boston. We asked for the check. This time, he paid.
My sister, Emma, a Dartmouth ’20, was supposed to join us at the parade. I stopped by her room before walking to Occom to check in on her and ask if she needed anything for her sore throat. We had tentatively scheduled brunch that morning, but rescheduled due to the overwhelming need for sleep. In the fall, Saturday brunches were a Guo tradition. We treated ourselves to off-campus food with the
I am now lying on my stomach in bed, having just finished the first draft of this column. I sit up and take a few minutes to be thankful beyond words that my life is infused with such different forms of love. Flora walks over and plops her head on my leg. “I love you the most.” We hug. “I love you, too.”
MIRR OR //7
Love is an asymptote COLUMN
By Elise Wien
The book of love is long and boring / No one can lift the damn thing / It’s full of charts and facts and figures / And instructions for dancing / But I, I love it when you read to me / And you, you can read me anything. — The Magnetic Fields
Case Study B: Hell hath no fury like a woman who did the entirety of a group project. This was me, two days ago. My group project partner tells me he spent the evening in Dick’s House. I will choose to believe him.
Love is a tenuous term. This isn’t a new sentiment but it bears repeating. In “The Movies,” which is the only dictionary that matters, love looks like this: valuing someone else’s worth enough that you’re willing to die for them. Maybe some people play by this definition in the “Not-Movies,” but it seems difficult. The movie can continue after the death, while life cannot. In the Not-Movies, love looks like this: valuing someone else’s worth enough to sacrifice elements of your own life for their well-being. The recent popularity of phrases like “love trumps hate” and “all you need is love” is disappointing. You need a home, health care, food, art and clean drinking water (a friendly reminder that Flint, Michigan is still without clean water). However, love can be a conduit for this. In loving others, I care for them enough to provide them with these needs. A project I am giving myself is to be more merciful towards others. This is the work that I have to do.
Case Study C: I think about this a fair amount in terms of my religion. Christ is a pretty compelling example of self-sacrifice for the love of the other. Old Testament God is characterized as a lot more fire and brimstone. For my thesis, I’ve been looking at a Haggadah from 1832. It’s the first one published in the U.S. A Haggadah is the liturgical text that dictates the steps of the Passover Seder. Absent from this edition is the modern tradition of removing a drop of wine from our glasses for each plague, in commemoration of those who suffered. This Seder takes place in 1869, just after the Civil War. At the table would have been members of the Columbia, South Carolina Jewry, some of whom were prominent players within the confederacy and many of whom were slave owners. I imagine that they invented the tradition. I imagine that they saw themselves reflected in the Egyptians, and wanted display mercy. The mercy project is forgiveness for the sake of growth. I see myself in those who fail to see humanity. Love is not an end but a means. Not a fixed form but a relationship that feels the tension of all its stakeholders. “Stakeholders” is a tantalizing word to use when describing love. You know what else is tantalizing? Graphs!!! Let’s say I = 1, which is to say, one human unit, one comfortable human unit. Let’s say the Love Equation is f(x) = 1/x. Let x = my affection and f(x) = my comfort. Letting x = 0 results in a mathematical error, and letting x = a negative number results in a metaphorical one, so I’m not going to go there. For now, let 0 < x ≤ 1, with one being the amount of comfort that I would allow for myself. Example: let’s solve for f(x) when x = .75 Love Units (LUs) f(.75) = 1/.75 = 1.333333333…3. Therefore, f(.75) = 1.33333…3 Comfort Units (CUs) The relationship between x and y is asymptotic. As my affection increases, my comfort approaches zero. The Good Love is shaped like this.
ELISE WIEN/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
Figure 1, where M represents mercy
Case Study A: It is the work of white folks in these times to reach out to people who voted for #45 and get them to see the humanity of those they are hurting. How do I even begin to approach these people? At a recent meeting of the Coalition for Israel-Palestine, I said some choice words to a ’20 who had some choice words for Palestinians. I later went up and introduced myself, suggesting we get coffee and talk further. I blitzed him. I blitzed him again. No response. This isn’t surprising given the distance I’d initially put between us. There is a certain mercy required in talking to Trump voters. Maybe not because I love them but because I love my friends enough to talk to them and to attempt to change their minds about who counts as worthy and who does not. And maybe in that process I will learn to love them too. I don’t foresee it, but there’s a lot I don’t foresee. I’ll try blitzing the ’20 again.
ELISE WIEN/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
Figure 2
Let’s try another schema, wherein I take into account the pain in my chest. F(x) = (x), wherein f(x) represents my comfort and (x) represents yours, which is to say, your comfort is a variable of mine. Mine is dependent on yours. This formula collects dust with distance and time. It becomes difficult for me to care about your comfort if you are far away or depicted a certain way or if I do not even know you exist. What does this mean for us? I think Case Study C contains an unmerciful look at Judaism. Maybe we can take the prioritization of Jews as the chosen nation to mean that we should love ourselves first. Not because we are the most important but because love of others is predicated on our own health. If we combine the two it looks like this: F(x) = 1/x + x
#TRENDING DISCOUNT CANDY
Who needs a Valentine when Reeses cups are half-price?
CARNIVAL RECOVERY
If you made it through the weekend without frostbite, you did great.
GROUP PROJECTS
If you don’t know which group member is slacking, it might be you. ELISE WIEN/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
Figure 3
I show this graph to my friend, who has more math knowledge than I, and she tells me that it looks like the slope of compassionate love that Jonathan Haidt prints in his book “The Happiness Hypothesis.” The graph depicts steady growth (the y-axis is time and the x-axis is intensity), which he contrasts to passionate love, which looks more like a hospital monitor during a heart attack (ending, tragically, in flatline). Case Study D: On Sunday night, Corinne and I dragged Kayuri out of the library for the snowball fight on the Green. After getting hit in the face a few times, my glasses became useless and I pocketed them. The blur of bodies was equalizing — in other words, anyone was fair game. Today, Kayuri and I came home to valentines that read: “I love you enough to live with you for four years even though you smell. Happy Valentine’s, [expletive] nerds.”
JONES MEDIA CENTER But does anyone know when it closes?
HINMAN
Thanks for the Valentine’s Day care package, Mom!
8// MIRROR
You should go and love yourself STORY
By Andrew Sosanya
For Ashley Martinez ’19, her form of self-care is bodybuilding. When she isn’t busy studying to become a doctor, Martinez is lifting heavy weights. She goes to the gym at least five times a week to train. Martinez never skips leg day. In fact, she has three leg days — glutes, hamstrings and quads. “I do a combination of lifting weights and cardio,” Martinez said. “It takes up a good amount of my day but it’s something I enjoy.” She hasn’t competed yet, but when Martinez returns to her home in New Mexico, she plans to enter bodybuilding competitions while interning at a physical therapy clinic.
Summer Cody ’20 gets a lot of what most Dartmouth students can’t — sleep. She makes sure to squeeze in a spot in her calendar for a quick nap. If she’s had a late night studying, sleep takes priority over everything.
When Week 7 has got you down, what do you do? Some wrap themselves in blankets and binge-watch the next season of “Grey’s Anatomy,” and others head out to the nearest party down frat row. From reading to bodybuilding, Dartmouth students discussed how they relieve the stress of college life by caring for themselves.
Ball is life, and life is ball, so whenever he has some time, Himanshu Patel ’20 has to get his shots in somehow. “My friends and I have a similar schedule, so we all get out of class at 12:35, and we go play for an hour and eat lunch after,” Patel said. “I’m not that good, but I’m decent. It’s a fun way to exercise, and I’d rather do that then go outside and run around the track.” However, Patel says that he can’t cross anyone up — yet. Keep your ankles safe when you see him on the Alumni Gym courts.
Natt Chan ’20 said that no matter how tired he is, he always has to get his 15 minutes of reading in. Every night before bed, Natt Chan ’20 pulls out his Kindle to read. Despite being completely oblivious to the Winter Carnival theme this year, he recently read the entire Harry Potter series in 12 days. He said that reading helps him escape the real world. “I prefer fantasy or science fiction because I like things that aren’t very realistic,” Chan said. “It’s a means for me to get lost and immerse myself in a whole other world.”
Alison Guh ’17 takes care of herself mentally, physically and spiritually through yoga. A self-proclaimed yoga lover, she has gone to the Mighty Yoga studio in town almost every single day since her sophomore year.
When your taste buds can’t take any more abuse from Dartmouth Dining Services, what can you do? Jalen Benson ’17 takes the cooking into his own hands. After taking his organic chemistry final during sophomore fall, he felt compelled to treat his stomach to some good food and cooked himself a full Thanksgiving dinner with friends. “Eating good food and talking to good people means a lot to me in terms of taking care of myself,” Benson said. “From that day on, I would set aside days during the term where I would feed myself. When I’m cooking, I can breathe.” Benson said that when he cooks for himself, he can incorporate his favorite flavors that can’t be found on campus. “DDS food has a sad amount of flavor in it,“ Benson said. “I’ll make food that has the flavor of home, so I’ll make oxtails [and] rice and peas.”