MIR ROR APRIL 5, 2013
MAJOR DETOUR // 2 THE MAD MONTH OF MARCH // 3
CAN DARTMOUTH WOMEN HAVE IT ALL? // 4 TTLG: LIVING THROUGH THE RHETORIC // 6 TALKING MOORE ABOUT THE DINOSAURS // 8
MULIN XIONG // THE DARTMOUTH STAFF PHOTO BY CIRRUS FOROUGHI // THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
2// MIRROR
EDITOR’S NOTE
This past week, it was hard to avoid the saga of Susan Patton, illustrious president of the Princeton Class of 1977, who wrote a letter to the editor in The Daily Princetonian encouraging the women of Princeton to marry their male counterparts as quickly as possible. In follow-up interviews and op-eds, Patton stayed true to her message, despite negative backlash from all the expected places. In the same week, Anne-Marie Slaughter visited campus, expanding on her widely-read article in The Atlantic “Why Women Still Can’t Have It All.” It’s an honorable question, but we can’t help but ask one another: can anyone have it all? And what is this “all” we speak of? This week’s issue explores students who defy the Registrar and opt for new majors late in the game, as well as the wild ups and downs of March Madness. A Dartmouth junior reflects on being an American in the Middle East, and we consider the changing nature of being a woman at Dartmouth over the last 40 years. None of these experiences are without flaws and roadblocks: when one team wins, another loses and being a female still has its challenges in the 21st century. It is these very imperfections, however, that make our lived experiences beautiful and shape our identities as Dartmouth students and citizens of the world. The “all” we want is constantly changing depending on who we are and where we are in our lives. For women, for men, for students, parents, winners and losers: define your own “all” and take setbacks as they come. Happy Friday!
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MIR ROR MIRROR EDITORS AMELIA ACOSTA TYLER BRADFORD EDITOR-IN-CHIEF JENNY CHE PUBLISHER GARDINER KREGLOW EXECUTIVE EDITORS DIANA MING FELICIA SCHWARTZ GRAPHICS EDITOR ALLISON WANG
OVER HEARDS
MAJOR DETOUR
JIN LEE //THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
B Y SARA KASSIR It wasn’t until I read the Common Application in the fall of my senior year that it occurred to me that I would eventually have to pick a major in college. With most of my time spent reading the Princeton Review’s massive guide to the best schools in the countr y, my sights extended no further than the task of how to get into one. What I would do if I actually got there seemed a little less relevant. But then, before I knew it, freshman year went by in an instant. I was a sophomore, the weather got cold and my fifth term at Dartmouth was upon me. Many aggressive blitzes from the Deans Office and the Registrar later, I found myself miraculously declaring the same major that I had checked off on the Common App two years ago. I call it miraculous because I wasn’t a particularly self-aware or insightful 17-year-old. In addition to my notorious indecisiveness, the sheer number of things worth studying at Dartmouth could have easily led me to fall in love with something entirely different. Maybe I just got lucky, but as I compare the plans of my friends from freshman year to now, ver y few of them are actually still working on the economics majors or pre-med requirements that they claimed to be pursuing at the beginning of their Dartmouth careers. There is nothing wrong with having a change of heart at some point in one’s college experience — it is safe to say that most students end up graduating with a degree in something they are passionate and excited about. But the path to getting there isn’t always simple or timely — sometimes, it takes more than a few terms to figure things out. Just as plans can change a great deal between Trips and sophomore winter, they do even more by the time it’s senior spring. Eric Wu ’13 thought he had it all figured out by freshman year. Certain that he would declare an economics major and end up in finance, his goal was a pragmatic one: to get a job. “When you’re deciding a major, there are two goals,” he said. “Deciding what you want to study and what you’re interested in, but
’14 Guy: I can’t stand when people don’t have chins.
Blitz overheards to mirror@ thedartmouth. com
then figuring out what’s actually going to help you in life after Dartmouth.” Wu’s freshman year coincided with the 2009 recession, so his concerns about the competitive nature of the job market are understandable. While he found the finance world exciting, he was still encouraged to take classes in government, histor y and theater. However, it wasn’t until he took Introductor y Psychology his sophomore fall that the possibility of actually pursuing something else became real. “I had to ask myself, do I want to take six classes in econ or in psych?” Wu said. “Now that I’m finishing psych, I’m having so much fun with it. I read the textbooks because I want to and go to class because I’m engaged in the material.” Shelley Wenzel ’14 was less certain about her academic and career aspirations when she began studying at Dartmouth. While psychology and Spanish both interested her early on, it was environmental studies that captured her full attention by the time she declared her major sophomore year. While Wenzel was fascinated by the subject matter, however, it wasn’t long before she realized that it did not necessarily fit well with the skill set she would need after graduation. Now in her junior spring, she is pursuing an engineering major with environmental science electives. “It wasn’t so much that my aspirations changed,” she said. “I just realized that I wanted to focus on more of the concrete, problemsolving work related to the environment. Environmental science is more the policy side of those issues.” Wenzel is now plans to remaining at Dartmouth for two extra terms, followed by a fifth year at the Thayer School of Engineering. This past fall, she worked at a non-profit in San Francisco that focuses on illegal wildlife trade, further affirming her passion for the environment. Wenzel has run into some difficulties tr ying to complete her new major in a timely manner. “Completing prerequisites is frustrating because they aren’t offered ever y term,” she said. “I have to take Physics 13 before I can
ANTI-FEMINISM ’15 Girl: Someone just blitzed out about random acts of kindness. Can’t you just do that without being facetimey?
’14 Girl: Everyone has their vice. You have sex, I paint my nails.
Students who change their major after Registrar deadlines may face logistical obstacles, but often find a greater sense of self-fulfillment on their new paths of study. take 14, but that means waiting until the next time the course is available.” Wenzel hopes to go to graduate school, where she will be able to further specialize her interests. Molly Davis ’10 did not decide on her second psychology major until her last year at Dartmouth, though she was already passionate about her English major. “I had always felt comfortable in the English department, and just sort of fell into filling out my major card with that,” she said. “I loved the format of the classes because they were discussion-based.” Davis pursued minors in art history and psychology, spending sophomore winter interning at a museum in Jacksonville, Fla., and considered careers in art. It was a trip to Wheelock Books with a friend before the start of her junior spring that led to her change of plans. “I remember one of my best friends had a book for a psychology seminar by Dan Gilbert and she couldn’t stop talking about how cool it would be,” she said. “I thought, maybe I can switch around my classes so I can take it. I ended up finishing my junior year off on such a high note with the psychology department.” Davis spent her last summer in college working at a girls’ summer camp in North Carolina that she had once attended herself. After reflecting on the direction of her life after graduation, she came home and decided to drop her art histor y minor and instead complete a double major in psychology and English. After working as a research assistant at Massachusetts General Hospital for two years, she is now completing her PhD at the University of Virginia in clinical psychology. Ironically, the title of the book that inspired Davis’ change of heart is one that could easily be appreciated by any Dartmouth student, with a perhaps unanticipated passion for what they do and a desire to translate that zeal to the world outside of Hanover. It is called “Stumbling on Happiness.”
’11 Boy: I’m on the Green Key diet. It’s making me really irritable.
’15 Guy: He brought a senior pretending to be a freshman as his pong partner for a rush event.
CS Prof: I know we’ve really been banging hard these past few days.
MIRROR //3
THE MAD MONTH OF MARCH
College basketball’s biggest tournament isn’t just about sports — it’s about the glory of competition. BY NATALIE VAN BRUNT Last Sunday, not only did I watch 10 straight hours of basketball, but I turned off a “Real Housewives” marathon to do so. If you know me at all, you know this is very out of character. The amount of sports I typically watch is fairly limited. While I know the rules well enough to sit through a game, I would never say that I know (or care, for that matter) which team has the good players or the potential to do well. It took me a solid 15 minutes to find ESPN. Yet every year, March rolls around and things get real. For those who are completely unaware, March Madness is the peak of college basketball season. Sixty-eight of the top-ranked teams are pitted together in a single-elimination bracket tournament to determine the year’s ultimate champion. It’s three straight weekends of nothing but high-stakes, high-tension basketball. So why, then, do millions of nonenthusiasts like myself find themselves so immersed in the outcomes of these games and cursing our failed bracket selections? Quite simply because March Madness really has nothing to do with basketball. March Madness is all about the ego. Think of your NCAA bracket as the equivalent of a sports SAT, if you will. There are a few who really know their stuff, those who have studied hard for the past year and memorized the stats and facts. However, there’s also a whole other pool of people who just want to
completely wing it and show that they can dominate without putting in any real effort. Taylor Watson ’16 admits he doesn’t follow basketball at all, but has filled out brackets in the past just for kicks. He simply wanted to see whether he had the ability to guess correctly and show up his friends. “It’s satisfying, because then I know that my barely-informed guessing was better than their knowledge,” Watson said. It’s true. We’re all jerks who really just want to prove that we can achieve that elusive perfect bracket. Shreya Indukuri ’16 admits that she’s been chasing it for years. “It’s impossible to get, but my friends and I keep filling out brackets every March. It’s become a tradition,” Indukuri said. Whether you’re a die-hard basketball aficionado or my mother who can’t remember which team she “voted” for, your odds of predicting the winners for every game are about the same. There are 4,294,967,296 potential brackets you can create, making anyone’s chance at picking the right one a complete and total crapshoot. It may help a little bit to know who’s playing well that year, but your odds are still infinitesimally small. You can select teams based on stats, mascots or the attractiveness of the players, but you’re still in the same boat as everyone else. Every year, I blindly follow the same
strategy. I never pick a team with a geographical modifier in their name, or a school whose location I’d have to Google. Teams with poor color combinations (looking at you, Florida) are never allowed in the final four. If the teams are ranked close enough that an upset is probable, I chose the school I’d rather attend. And no matter what, Ohio State always wins it all. March Madness is more than just a singular sports event — it’s a story. You get the opportunity to watch the mighty fall and the unexpected Cinderella team rise to victory. Whether you actually know anything, it’s impossible to not get caught up in the enthusiasm and emotion. “It’s exciting to root for a team and deal with the possibility of upsets and surprises,” McKenzie Bennett ’13 said. Bennett finds the college basketball tournament all the more exciting because of the players’ extreme dedication. “They actually love the sport, and they don’t even know if they can make a career out of it. College players are so committed. NBA players don’t put their whole heart into it because they know they’re getting paid,” Bennett said. Even if basketball isn’t your thing, March Madness spawns an atmosphere of competition that expands far beyond the sports world. MTV organizes a selection of bands to “battle it out for ultimate rock supremacy,” giving fans a chance to push their favorites to the final rounds. Other options include TV sitcoms, cutest
animals or hottest women. The Cooking Channel even created a tournament of the best college eats, featuring ice cream sandwiches, mozzarella sticks and French fry stuffed cheesesteaks (are you listening, DDS?). So if you can’t bring yourself to get behind something so inherently sports-based, you can still get caught up in the narcissistic pleasure of proving yourself as an expert. As I write this piece, I am still mourning Ohio State’s loss from the night before. I have the Louisville-Duke game open in another tab and I am praying that Duke pulls through to give me my last shot at winning my pool. If anything, the tension provides a great distraction from any of the work I should actually be dealing with. Especially here in Hanover, we need something to get excited about while the rest of world celebrates the return of spring. Instead of feeling sad that our legs haven’t seen sunlight since September, we can let the NCAA Tournament get us through March and cross our fingers that we’ve transitioned into warmer, more pleasant April by the time it ends. If you haven’t jumped on the bracket bandwagon in time for this weekend’s Final Four, consider it for next year. If you completely bomb, just say it was a fluke. But if you do well, you get to rub it in the faces of everyone you know for the next 12 months. And isn’t that what all of us, sports fans and non-sports fans alike, are searching for in life anyways?
TRENDING @ Dartmouth SCARVES ZOMBIES Thanks for keeping us updated, President Folt.
ICE CREAM FORE U
The off-campus favorite has finally re-opened for the season. While it might still be cold enough to freeze your tongue to a pole, never say no to an ice cream and mini-golf combo.
COCA-COLA FREESTYLER Many among us have received the mysterious blitzes from the “Drink O’ the Day” Gmail account previewing various flavor options on the new machine. We’re dying to taste more of the 125 options.
HAVING A LOT OF WORK
It’s only been a week, but gone are the casual first days of term. Periodicals are packed, First Floor Berry is full and the six p.m. bells are drowned out by complaints.
PEELING The last vestiges of spring break are fading and now we’re left with scraps of skin and cries for aloe vera.
DICKEY
NATALIE VAN BRUNT // THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
4// MIRROR
CAN DARTMOUTH WOMEN HAVE IT ALL? BY IRIS LIU
oeducation was instituted at Dartmouth in 1972 under former College President John Kemeny’s tenure to the delight of some and the objection of many. The first coeducational classes, beginning with the Class of 1976, found themselves at a school that still included men who had enrolled thinking they would receive four years of education at an all-male institution. Several members of the College’s early coeducational classes remember arriving on campus their freshman year only to find that the women’s restrooms had urinals, the mirrors were hung too high for the average girl and no locker rooms were available for female athletes. The College offered two all-female dorms, North Massachusetts and Woodward, and several coed dorms including the Choates and River clusters. Coming from an all-girls high school, Amy Cholnoky ’77 ver y deliberately chose to live in a coed dorm. “I went in pretty eyes wide open about what it would be like in the minority,” Cholnoky said. “I wanted to learn about the male perspective, and I made a lot of really great guy friends that really took me under their wing.” Others, however, were less cognizant of the implications of the College’s eight-to-one male-female ratio. After hearing about Yale University’s bumpy transition to coeducation in 1969, Robin Travers ’77 decided instead to apply to Dartmouth. “It absolutely had not dawned on me that it would be bad or worse at Dartmouth,” she said. “We were naive — I can’t stress that enough. We didn’t think of ourselves as pioneers or intrepid warriors. We were just going to a good school.” While some women in the College’s early coed classes faced a “per vasive anti-female attitude,” it wasn’t necessarily clear at the time, DeeDee Granzow Simpson ’77 said. “We knew it was sometimes socially weird, but we didn’t know how unusual it was,” she said. “We didn’t have any experience we could compare it to.” One College institution that strained friendships, even to this day, was the Dartmouth Plan, which is also celebrating its 40th anniversar y. Kemeny introduced the D-Plan alongside coeducation as a tool
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to facilitate his proposal to open Dartmouth to women, according to Rauner Special Collections. Because there was so much opposition to coeducation, Kemeny knew that issues of housing and shrinking the male acceptance rate would detract from his initiative. He offered the D-Plan as a solution, allowing the College to accept female students without reducing the number of male students on campus. Despite mismatched schedules, many women faced the same challenges during the College’s transition to coeducation. Thayer Dining Hall was divided into four main lines, of which line four was most notorious. Male students used to hold up placards that rated passing girls between one and 10, Elizabeth Kadin ’77 said. The College’s charged atmosphere was evident in the Hums’ inter-fraternity singing competition. In 1975, controversy arose over Theta Delta Chi fraternity’s song, called “Our Cohogs,” a derogator y term used to describe women. Even the Dean of the College joined the brothers in singing, Travers said. “When the Dean of the College stands on the steps of Dartmouth Hall to sing, ‘You’re not wanted here,’ that’s a real message,” she said. Because she lived in a coed dorm and felt well received by her male friends, Ann Duffy ’77 did not perceive the masculine environment as “threatening” or “negative,” she said. Others, however, took the opportunity to bring to light the community’s flawed attitude toward coeducation. In their junior year, Kadin, Penny Kurr Rashin ’77 and six other students put together a play called “You Laugh,” which discussed sexism and discrimination on campus, as a final project for their philosophy class. Since none of the students involved in the project expected community feedback, Kadin said they were surprised when the debut in Moore Theater generated a campus-wide discussion at the Top of the Hop that night. They received not only requests to perform several more times at Rollins Chapel, but appreciative letters from students, faculty and even Kemeny. Not all students enjoyed the message expressed in “You Laugh,” and many women didn’t understand its value at the time. In retrospect, the play generated much-needed campus dialogue, Duffy said. “They took a stand that wasn’t ver y popular but was so important on the College campus,” she said. “They had their heads straight while the rest of us were just enjoying the parties. That was a seminal moment in moving coeducation for ward at the College.”
MIRROR //5
Travers said that while she understood the sentiment of maintaining College traditions, it was no excuse to discriminate against women. “Somewhere along the way, tradition and sexism got mixed up,” she said. “You can be ver y traditional, you can love your school, you can love your institution, but that doesn’t mean you have to be opposed to women.” Despite the challenges of the transition to coeducation, alumnae inter viewed said they continue to cherish their Dartmouth years. Many attributed their experiences to the ability to maintain confidence and optimistim. Although the lack of precedent for women in higher education posed certain challenges, it offered women the freedom to pave their own paths, Simpson said. “We were the generation of women who were told that we could be anything,” she said. “What nobody told us was that you can’t have it all — at least not at the same time. Do you get married? Have children? Work after having children? We were the ones making these choices without having a template passed down to us.” One of the steps toward gender equality at Dartmouth came with the establishment of sororities, a balancing force to the fraternity system, Lizanne Megrue ’79 said. During her junior year, Megrue helped found the College’s first national sorority, Kappa Kappa Gamma, to create a social space where women could connect and draw support from one another. Although Kappa did not have a house at the time, the goal was to “open some doors and help create a place more open and accepting of women,” Megrue said. Even before sororities were introduced, a group of female upperclassmen housed together in an all-female colonial house that was turned into a dormitor y, Diane Boyer ’78 said. It is now the physical plant of Delta Delta Delta sorority.
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We were naive — I can’t stress that enough. We didn’t think of ourselves as pioneers or intrepid warriors. We were just going to a good school. Robin Travers ’77
Today, the sorority system provides an important forum and space for women to continue the discussion of gender equality, Panhellenic Council president Eliana Piper ’14 said. The conversation must, however, function as a “two-way street” between men and women on campus and in the society at large, Women’s Forum founder Erin Klein ’13 said. “Change can’t come from women saying that men need to break down their barriers,” Klein said. “Men need to be in the conversation to really upstage the stereotypes and notice the problems in the gender divide.” Although problems surrounding coeducation are no longer on the forefront of students’ on-campus agenda, the College should reflect on the past in its effort to shape its future, Piper said. “This legacy of strong women at Dartmouth is really a testament to the work that all the women before us have done,” Piper said. “But institutional memor y is short, and it’s important to pass on experiences and accomplishments as building blocks for the continuity of progress between generations.” Speaking about gender equality, Piper said that what it means to “have it all” is in reality the safety and the option to make decisions about one’s future. The assumption that being a stay-at-home parent detracts from a meaningful path is an obstacle that both men and women must work through to truly overcome the gender divide, she said. “Until gender stereotypes are taken away, neither women nor men can ‘have it all,’” she said. “What it means is the ability to choose the future that I want, and not have my future chosen for me by a glass ceiling.” Staff writer Myrel Iturrey contributed reporting to this article. ALLISON WANG // THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF Photos Courtesy of Rauner Special Collections
6// MIRROR
Through the Looking Glass
LIVING THROUGH THE RHETORIC B Y EMMA MCDERMOTT October in Amman, Jordan, as you might imagine, is blisteringly hot. I couldn’t tell if the sweat pouring down my back was from the desert sun or the chants rising from the streets below. I stood at the end of Sharia Rainbow, a wealthy expat street overlooking the much poorer city center, the two separated by a steep maze of cobbled back alleys. The top of the Al Husseini Mosque was just barely visible, but the loudspeaker attached to the minaret boomed across the rooftops. Armed with only my L.L. Bean backpack, I was headed toward, what was at the time, the largest Muslim Brotherhood protest in Jordanian histor y. The Brotherhood had claimed that up to 20,000 protestors would be in attendance. I went alone. Like many things I have done out of sheer curiosity, this was probably ver y stupid. Still standing at the top of the hill, I saw a reporter climbing the steps leading away from the city’s basin. I approached him, assuming media personnel would be my safest bet in gauging the situation. He was Jordanian, but worked for the French Associated Press. “It’s not dangerous,” he said matterof-factly. “No injuries, no violence. The government did not stage their counterprotest. You will be fine. This is nothing
new, the Brotherhood has been doing this for two years now.” I began winding my way down the hill. Alleys and staircases crisscross the steep incline, and I was able to circle the main street several times to get my bearings. Crowds of men lined the streets leading to the mosque and center square, smoking, talking, watching. They looked at me curiously. A blonde girl clutching the straps of a canvas backpack and striding toward the protest must have been a ver y strange sight. The downtown, known as Wusd al Baled, was teeming with banners and Jordanian flags. Protestors made their way from one end of the quarter to the other, the mosque acting as the central hub. In front of the mosque, the Brotherhood erected a platform for the speakers shouting into the loudspeakers and megaphones. All along the square, there were hundreds of policemen, standing row upon row. Never in my life have I felt more eyes burning into my back than when I walked along the edge of that square. Despite my best efforts to keep moving and stay as inconspicuous as possible, it was as if ever y one of them turned to stare at the exact same moment, probably wondering REBECCA SCHANTZ // THE DARTMOUTH STAFF what the hell I was doing there. There were almost no women and cer- After experiencing a Muslim Brotherhood protest in Jordan, Emma McDermott tainly no Westerners in sight. In a sea of ’14 reflects on the importance of making up your own mind.
JULIAN MACMILLAN // THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
Jordanian men, to say I stood out would be a droll understatement. It did not seem like a good idea to wear out my welcome or draw any extra attention to myself. I wound in and out of the crowds, finally stopping next to the section cordoned off by the press. The only other women I could see leaned up against a closed shop front nearby, adjusting their hijabs and shopping bags. I stood next to them and chatted for a bit. Friendly and cheerful, they told me they lived a few blocks away and, like me, had wanted to see what was going on for themselves. As the crowds dissipated, I headed down one of the side streets, talking with a few reporters from a human rights newspaper. They were equally calm about the protest. There had been no conflict and minimal casualties. It was just another day at the office for them. I said going alone was probably stupid. This is not to say I think going at all was a bad idea or that any acute danger actually existed. Rather, based on the information I had at the time, the messages we were bombarded with in the States, I had reason to believe some dire catastrophe would happen to me. With lurid horror stories like that of war correspondent Lara Logan emblazoned in our minds, the Western world has a tendency to characterize any protest in the Middle East as a violent disaster waiting to happen. The King of Jordan portrays himself as a wise and westernized moderate dealing with an extremist opposition, an image that plays perfectly into our caricaturized fears. However, in my experience, that day at the protest and thereafter, the ver y opposite is true. In the face of rampant corruption and inequity, the Brotherhood offers Jordan one of the only visible and vocal means of political
dissent. Most of the Jordanians I spoke with did not identify with the movement but recognized their crucial roles in achieving political reform. While their common name indicates other wise, the Muslim Brotherhood differs significantly in personality from countr y to countr y. The aggressive nature of the Egyptian Brotherhood’s activity before and after the revolution does not represent all those under the same banner. In Jordan, the Muslim Brotherhood forms the only real opposition to the Jordanian government. They call for moderate reform in elections and the reduction of the incredibly high rates of corruption. Despite their por trayal as theological extremists, their protest was peaceful. Despite my bizarre appearance, I felt relatively safe. Was it a colossally risky endeavor in terms of my vulnerability as a woman and a foreigner? Nothing is devoid of risk, but I wouldn’t say I felt any more unsafe than any other time I was in Jordan. Yes, self and situational awareness are absolutely key when venturing into foreign places, and obviously some situations are genuinely dangerous. But I think it is important to remain vigilantly aware of the rhetoric creating our fears and perceived dangers. We cannot let misinformation keep us from seeking the other perspective, especially given opportunities like mine this past fall. When possible, it is best to go to the source, talk to the people involved and ultimately, make up your own mind as to where truth really lies. Through the Looking Glass is a weekly feature and welcomes submissions from the Dartmouth community. If interested, email mirror@thedartmouth.com.
MIRROR //7
COLUMN
COLUMN
MODERATELY GOOD ADVICE WITH
GARDNER DAVIS
THE BUCKET LIST Finding Community in an Unfamiliar Religion BY
LAUREN VESPOLI
AND
KATE TAYLOR Dear Gardner, I’m running low on cash. Can I borrow 20 dollars? — Needy Ned ’13 Gardner: I’m simply going to tell you what Pitbull told me while I was driving in my car over break. It may be the most insightful and relevant piece of advice I’ve received thus far: “Ask for money, get advice. Ask for advice, get money twice.” Your advice will be forthcoming. Dear Gardner and Kate, The girl I’ve had a crush on for the past two years came up to me and said “Ha, I just took this quiz in the Mirror and it looks like we’re dating?” I hate both of you so much. — Friend-zoned Frank ’13 Gardner: This is a tough friend-zone moment. However, I’m sure it pales in comparison to the two years leading up to it, especially sitting behind her as she made out with someone else on the bus ride back from the formal she attended as your “platonic” date and any time you spooned. There’s no easy way out of the friend zone, but I’ll share what is by far the strongest transition to dating that I’ve heard of, courtesy of Unnamed ’13. Next time she mentions the fact that you’re “dating,” say something like, “I’m so glad we’re not.” It will force her to think about why you shouldn’t be dating and, in Unnamed ’13’s case, can lead to a transition out of the friend zone. In fact, she’ll probably be so offended you won’t be friends at all. Ten percent odds aren’t any worse than what you just described. Kate: Frank, you need to get it together. Your first error is complaining to Gardner and I about your problems. You’ve liked this girl for two years and spend enough time with her to be her boyfriend. Why isn’t this “question” in her inbox on Friday afternoon? This is why you’re single and pining over someone you now see as significantly more perfect than she actually is. The fact that she felt comfortable telling you that you two were “dating” can mean two things. Either you’ve hidden your feelings all too well and she tells everyone that you’re her “straight gay best friend” or she’s been hinting she’s interested for months and you’ve been too mopey to notice.
The problem is, he realizes this and, ergo, thinks the world revolves around him. How do I hook up without making him more cocky than he already is? — Anti-X Annie ’13 Kate: Confidence is attractive. Too much, however, turns a fine young fellow into an egomaniac convinced that all of campus wants him. Option one is to stop hooking up with someone who sucks. Let’s be real though, that’s just not going to happen! You have your needs, and I respect that. Option two is to subtly knock him down a few pegs. Some good lines include: “Sex is so much more fun with you. ‘It’ has just been too big for comfort with other guys, you know?” Or, while glancing at his Dartmouth ID, “You had so much more hair freshman year!” or “I just don’t understand why girls are so into muscular guys. You’re so much more cuddly.” Note: if you execute option two successfully, you are probably a sociopath. Look at your life, look at your choices and take some time to be single. A long time. Dear Gardner and Kate, How many churros do I need to eat to justify a meal swipe? — Hungry Howie ’13 Gardner: I’ll be honest, Howie. We don’t like to compare the readers who ask us questions, but this is the best DDS related question we’ve answered all year. Churros are mainly offered at dinner so I’ll work under the assumption that a meal swipe is worth $14. A churro probably costs 25 cents to make and is worth $3 as determined by the Major League Baseball Stadium Churro Price Index. Therefore you’ll get your money’s worth by eating from four and two-thirds to 56 churros, or anything over four feet of churros. The strongest play is obviously a to-go container filled entirely with churros. You may get weird looks from everyone that sees you, but it should justify a meal swipe more than Chicken Monday ever could. Kate: One. Also, the fact that churros are not offered at breakfast is an outrage. I’m disgusted The Dartmouth has thus far shirked its duties in reporting this hot button issue.
Dear Kate,
Dear Gardner and Kate,
I’m interested in this guy who’s really fun, good-looking, a “sweet bro,” etc.
I thought I was coming back for spring term. What is this high of 42
and snowy thing? — Perplexed Peter ’16 Gardner: Even after three years, I thought that spring break was a good time to switch out all of my sweaters for shorts and sleeveless shirts only to remember that we go to school in New Hampshire. I often wonder what Eleazar Wheelock was thinking. There were Native Americans all over North America in 1769, so why did he pick the coldest imaginable place to found a school? Why not Florida or at least Virginia? I suggest you use the next few cold and muddy weeks of “high of 42 and snowy thing” to work diligently, participate in class and build up good karma with your professors. Then you can blow off all work when it’s 75 and sunny later in the term. Kate: I’ve been living in a state of denial for the last few weeks, to the point I almost refused to answer this question. Every morning I wake up with an overactive heater, look out the window and see rays of sunshine. I then convince myself that “high of 42 degrees” is sundress weather. A more sensible woman would come to grips with the harsh realities of April in Hanover upon leaving the dorm. Instead, I stubbornly suffer through endless questions of “Where are your tights?” and “Aren’t you cold, Kate?” Let’s think about that. It’s snowing and I have to eat on Collis porch because there’s still not enough seating. Obviously, I’m freezing. On the plus side, I’m building up my tolerance to “spring” weather and ideally will be performing the Ledyard challenge before the last few sheets of ice melt.
Please send any questions in need of advice to gardnerandkate@gmail.
FILM Meet Tim DeChristopher, a heroic college student who is currently in jail for protecting federalland from illegal drilling. Post-film discussion with directors Beth & George Gage and writer Terry Tempest Williams.
SAT | APR 6
7 PM | LOEW
$8 | DARTMOUTH ID $5
hop.dartmouth.edu | 603.646.2422 Dartmouth College | Hanover, NH
I don’t usually think about religion. Faith has never been an important aspect of my life, but I guess you could say that I’ve been extremely fortunate in having relatively few occasions when I needed something outside and bigger than myself to lean on. In college, I’ve probably had the least contact with organized religion and personal spirituality than at any other point in my life. But attending a friend’s, shall we say, “nontraditional” Seder last weekend combined with a lonely Easter holiday made me start to think about the role that religion can play in community building. My personal histor y with religion is shallow and eclectic. I was baptized Catholic because my dad, a former altar boy, who I don’t ever remember going to a Catholic ser vice, was friends with the priest. I never go to a Catholic church because my father doesn’t take me. Instead, my mother brought me to Sunday school at the Congregational church in my hometown. In eighth grade, when I was deep in the middle school basketball game as a scrawny post player who wasn’t aggressive enough to box out, my travel team started having games on Sundays. So my mom and I stopped going to church. In my high school, we had “reflections,” or meetings ever y other week at our nondenominational chapel where a few students and faculty would speak and reflect on a topic of their choice. Since I’ve been at college, I haven’t made any time for spirituality or personal reflection. I would call myself a None. In 2012, 46 million Americans identified as “Nones,” meaning they don’t affiliate with any religion. According to a study of Nones by the Pew Research Center, one-third of Americans under 30 call themselves Nones. Our generation is more religiously unaffiliated than youth have ever been. Nones include atheists and agnostics, but also people who would say they are spiritual and pray ever y day. Last Saturday night, I gathered with 40 other students and parents at the Roth Center for Jewish Life for a friend’s Seder. It was the first time I had ever been to a Seder and my second time at the Roth Center since freshman year, when a Jewish friend showed me the glor y that is the Hillel cookie dough stash. Though we did read and sing songs from the Haggadah and participated in other Seder traditions, such as eating the bitter herbs, we also read from a packet titled “The Nightmare Before Easter. Jews: They Didn’t Ask to be The Chosen,” the contents of which included a Margaret Thatcher quotation, a picture of a dog and a cat spooning and a humorous essay from the online literar y journal McSweeney’s Internet Tendency. With dessert, we were also treated to an acoustic rendition of Chamillionaire’s 2006 hit, “Ridin’,” and a Passover-themed cover of Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together.” The dinner was an impressive production, but it wasn’t about following all the traditions. The traditions might have brought ever yone together, but what I found most beautiful was the fact that there were 40 college students eating a home-cooked dinner, drinking wine and enjoying each other’s company. I was reminded why religious groups are important. Regardless of belief, they provide community and a reason to gather together, slow down and enjoy each other’s company. Easter Sunday, I was confronted with a much grimmer scene. Passing students coming and going from church in their pastels, I went to FoCo to catch up on work while grazing the brunch spread. My email pinged with new messages from my father. Attached were pictures of my young cousins smiling with my mom and their Easter goodies, at my house without me. My personal celebration of Easter involved eating chocolate. It wasn’t my lack of recognition for Christ’s resurrection that was concerning, but that for me, the point of any such religious celebration had been defeated by my solitude.
8 // MIRROR
PROFILE
Thinking Moore About the Dinosaurs We shouldn’t take what we know about our prehistoric friends for granted. BY KELSEY ANSPACH DENNIS NG// THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF
Earth science professor Jason Moore challenges the assumption that an asteriod wiped dinosaurs off the planet. The dinosaurs became extinct because a giant asteroid hit the earth, right? Not so fast — earth sciences professor Jason Moore says that the object that hit the earth 65 million years ago was more likely a smaller, speedier comet. Moore worked with a team at Dartmouth to find significant evidence against the seemingly fundamental asteroid hypothesis, one we have accepted since we first learned that dinosaurs existed and then realized they were no longer walking around outside. Actually, don’t be too quick to draw the conclusion that the asteroid — I mean comet! — actually eliminated dinosaurs from the earth either. Moore pointed to the birds flying outside as examples of living manifestations of the prehistoric creatures. “All dinosaurs did not go extinct,” he said. “There’s another disagreement in the scientific community at the moment as to how important the impact was. Some people suggest that in fact the impact killed all the dinosaurs. I’d say that there is still no resolution.” Moore wasn’t expecting to find himself engaged in research that would fundamentally challenge the cause of the 180 kilometer-wide Chicxulub crater in Mexico that is normally attributed to the extinction of the dinosaurs. Indeed, he’s more likely to be looking at the fossils of the dinosaurs that still lived after the comet hit the earth. “Research-wise, I’m primarily a paleoecologist interested in interactions between organisms and the environment in the past,” Moore said. “Most of my research looks at how communities of organisms react to major changes, be it a giant meteorite or comet impact, climate change or the introduction of new species.” Perhaps it was exactly the fact that this research was beyond Moore’s field that allowed him to entertain and explore the ground-
breaking idea that something other than an asteroid created the Chicxulub crater. “We were coming from the outside,” Moore said. “Because we didn’t have a horse in the race, we could come in without any immediate idea of what was going on and address all possible solutions equally.” The findings rocked the scientific world. A recent BBC article was the first to publicize the Dartmouth team’s comet hypothesis after Moore, along with his team of geography professor Jonathan Chipman, earth sciences professor Mukul Sharma and Hannah Hallock GR’12, presented their findings at the 44th Lunar and Planetar y Science Conference in the Woodlands, Texas, in March. Naturally, the comet hypothesis
“As a scientist, you have to let the data speak for itself,” Earth sciences professor Jason Moore said. “We didn’t come into this with a particular set of biases. We hadn’t looked at the data before. We looked at the range of possibilities, but in the end it fell out very strongly in favor of it being a cometary impact” sparked controversy. “There was a brief period in early ’90s where people were flirting with the comet idea, but that faded out, and we’re the resurgents of that idea,” Moore said. “I think we’ve got a really good case for this. There are geophysicists who would disagree. We’re arguing in the face of 30 years of work.” When interacting with the asteroid die-hards, Moore said he and his team appreciated the criticism but remained convinced of their theor y. No one ever said
the experts were always right — everyone makes mistakes, and that can go both ways. “As a scientist, you have to let the data speak for itself,” Moore said. “We didn’t come into this with a particular set of biases. We hadn’t looked at the data before. We looked at a range of possibilities, but in the end it fell out ver y strongly in favor of it being a cometar y impact.” What findings exactly led them to this conclusion? The simple stor y is this: something hit the ear th 65 million years ago in Mexico. Whatever it was left a layer of sediment over the earth enriched with concentrations of iridium that are higher than is natural on our planet. Hence, this something must have been from outer space. Previous research on the amount of iridium deposited estimates that more iridium was deposited than actually was. While previous iridium estimates pointed to a big asteroid, only something smaller, like a comet, can account for the lower amounts of iridium found. Despite the attention that Moore received last month at the conference, he admitted that it was “slightly strange” for him to be there as a paleontologist. “I feel like I was regressing to my undergrad days where you don’t know anyone and feel out of your element,” he said. Indeed, it must be strange for someone whose of fice shelves are filled with fossils of extinct creatures to find himself among those whose careers have revolved around researching the moon and planets. While Moore might feel out of place at a lunar and planetar y meeting, he can tell you just about anything about his fossils on the spot. Selecting one of the many sleek skulls from his shelves, Moore informed me that it had been preser ved in its state for 33 million years.
Courtesy of Jason Moore
Moore’s work as a paleontologist gave him a unique expertise when addressing members of the 44th Lunar and Planetary Science Conference. “I hope I look that good when I’m 33 million years old,” he joked. Perhaps it’s Moore’s playful nature that allowed him to entertain ideas outside the conventional wisdom and launched him into what he describes as “one of the most controversial research projects I’ve directly presented before.” His discover y may help inform his primar y research interests. Moore said that knowing for sure whether the impact was caused by a comet or an asteroid could help to resolve some of the inconsistencies between the dinosaur species that went extinct and the ones that didn’t. “We hope people will start thinking in that direction,” he said. Moving for ward, Moore’s work will extend beyond Dar tmouth as he moves to a position at the University of New Mexico. Moore said one of his favorite aspects of Dartmouth has been the opportunity to teach “students who are interested and motivated” at the graduate and undergraduate level.
“I’ve loved ever y second of teaching I’ve done here,” Moore said. “Don’t tell my colleagues, but some of the undergraduates I’ve taken to the field were putting the graduate students of my colleagues to shame.” New Mexico will provide a research field in Moore’s backyard, where he will physically interact with the fossils that interested him. “New Hampshire isn’t known for its dinosaur fossils,” Moore said. “Being able to go out and collect data on the weekend will be amazing.” Moore said that inspiring others through his research to be one of the most rewarding parts of his job. When BBC saw the potential impact of his team’s findings on his comet hypothesis, Moore saw the opportunity to publicize the project and inspire the community of earth scientists. “I’m happy that it managed to get the audience it did,” Moore said “Anything I can do to enthuse the next generation about science is awesome.”