The Dartmouth 03/06/19

MIR ROR 3.06.19

SILVER HAIR EVERYWHERE 2

TURNING OVER A NEW LEAF 4

FROM SCANDAL TO OPPORTUNITY 5 BELLA JACOBY/THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF

2 //MIRR OR

Editors’ Note

Silver Hair Everywhere STORY

MICHAEL LIN/THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF

Two times. That’s the number of times Carolyn has tried out for a capella groups here: once freshman year and once sophomore year. As she was reminded this past weekend at Dartmouth Idol, this school has way more singing talent than its size might suggest. Seriously. It’s like everybody here can belt a tune or two. As disappointed as she may have been to have toiled through the day-long auditions and the call-backs at midnight, only to receive a “no,” being rejected from the coveted singing clubs allowed her to pursue something that she had never done in high school but had always wanted to try — the school newspaper. One door closes, another door opens, as the saying goes. Nikhita thinks that being rejected from her “dream school” during college application season was in fact a blessing in disguise, because she would have never realized that Dartmouth was actually her real dream school … or have been writing this week’s editor’s note. It’s funny how things work out. Meeting and covering incredible people, making friends with those who started out as “coworkers,” Carolyn and Nikhita have realized how, in some ways, they were lucky to face rejection right off the bat. And, a whirlwind of 40 issues later, Carolyn writes this final editor’s note with a bit of reluctance and a lot of gratitude for what The D has given her, while Nikhita has high hopes for the future. This week, in the last issue of Mirror for the term, we suggest you look out for the silver linings in your life.

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3.06.19 VOL. CLXXV NO. 148 MIRROR EDITORS NIKHITA HINGORANI CAROLYN ZHOU ASSOCIATE MIRROR SARAH ALPERT EDITORS NOVI ZHUKOVSKY EDITOR-IN-CHIEF ZACHARY BENJAMIN INTERIM PUBLISHER VINAY REDDY EXECUTIVE EDITOR AMANDA ZHOU

By Yuna Kim

Over the last few years, young women around the world have been sporting a bold new hairstyle: bright, eye-catching silver locks. While platinum blonde has always been high in demand, this contemporary look deviates from the norm, blending cool tones like gray, blue and purple instead of traditional warm blonde and brunette hues; this avant-garde twist of tones produces a unique chic shade that closely mirrors a woman’s natural graying of her hair.

With high-profile celebrities like Kim Kardashian, Winnie Harlow, Cardi B and Iskra Lawrence transforming their natural hair into a sensational silver chrome, young people everywhere have been quick to jump on the trend. This past year, over 10,000 people in the United Kingdom alone searched for “grey hair dye” online each month, and many a prominent publication — including those such as Cosmopolitan, Glamour and Allure — has dubbed this “icy” hair trend the biggest to watch out for in 2019.

Although I do agree that this up-and-coming trend is definitely gorgeous, I must admit that I did wonder, why gray? In modern society, which has always esteemed youthful beauty, I personally feel that women are constantly seeking to make themselves appear younger, whether that means investing in periodic botox injections, slathering on eye cream every night before bed or, of course, dyeing their hair to mask any pesky gray hairs.

So if older women — perhaps those long out of their childbearing years — are so adamant about maintaining the youthful glow of their 20-year-old selves by hiding their emerging gray hairs, why is it that 21st-century youth challenge these established aging norms, seeking our hairstyles that serve as such a stark contrast from the rest of their youthful aura?

Women’s, gender and sexuality studies professor Graziella Parati shared some wise insight into the rising hype of dyed silver hair, speaking both from her observations of American and Western European fashion trends and from her personal experience of dyeing her own hair.

Parati, who first started getting gray hairs around the age of 35, dyed her hair blonde for over 20 years before she finally decided to let her hair stay its natural gray. She then decided to dye just her bangs with bolder blue and purple tones, sharing that this decision served as both a powerful statement of her identity and a manner through which she could reckon with her evolving selfperception.

“I tend to be ridiculously pale, so

having white and gray hairs next to my pale face made me feel like Casper the Ghost, which is not something I was comfortable with,” Parati said.

“I think some blue and purple colors around my face made me feel more comfortable, but also allowed me to express my lively, extravagant personality.”

Parati also commented on the interestingly stark contrast in stigma that exists regarding a woman’s decision to let her hair go gray versus a man’s. According to Parati, this gender discrepancy is perpetuated because of the very different value attached to the aesthetic judgments of females versus males.

“After a certain age, women become completely invisible, and they are treated like second-class citizens because they don’t have the attractiveness they had when they were younger,” Parati said. “On the other hand, men with gray hair don’t automatically get placed into a category of old, uninteresting or marginalized people. Instead, there is a sort of charm that comes with aging or mature men.”

Finally, Parati also spoke of the emerging silver hair trend among younger generations, particularly today’s millennials. She shared that although it likely would not be seen as stylish for an older woman to sport a dyed monochromatic silver look, the dichotomy between a young person’s face and body and her “older hair” provides a fascinating juxtaposition that has captivated modern youth.

“Gray is a very elegant color, and if you have a young, unwrinkled face, what you see is a very charming and interesting contrast that doesn’t have the same effect as when an old person with wrinkles on the skin has gray hair,” Parati said. “So while gray hair looks like an interesting experiment for younger people,

it means something completely different and looks completely different for an older person to have gray hair.”

Upon speaking with Parati, I personally found her hypotheses regarding the prominence of the silver hair trend pretty compelling.

It makes sense that performing a bold fashion change might involve manipulating — or empowering, depending on your own intention — a marginalized group of people in society; it’s a trend we learned about in Professor Parati’s class Comparative Literature 42.01, “Prada, Chanel, Ferrari: History and Literature” that can be found all throughout the fashion industry today and throughout the industry’s history.

While I would personally never dye my hair silver (or so I think right now), I think the bold silver tones provide a super stylish trend worth incorporating into my wardrobe in other ways. Since, as Parati mentioned, silver and gray are very chic colors that mesh well with a variety of looks, I will most definitely be hopping on this trend’s bandwagon one way or another, perhaps incorporating more muted gray or dazzling silver colors into my daily style. Furthermore, I choose to stand in solidarity with aging women, challenging the stigma of letting one’s hair go gray and celebrating the healthy and honest aging of women by embracing this trend of modern youth.

Regardless of my own view of the silver hair trend, though, it’s one that we don’t anticipate going away anytime soon, so definitely keep an eye out for more big players in the entertainment industry — and maybe even your own friends and family — jumping on this hot trend.

IZZY BOETTCHER/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF

MIRROR //3

C.O.A.T.: Coldest of All Time STORY

By Katie Cline

Ah, winter. My favorite season. It’s what, you go to Yale? That’s a solid freezing cold and wet and dark. We four degrees warmer. (Brad. Ugh.) get a faithful weekly cycle of snow that turns from powder to slush to mud 3. There is no need to refrigerate and then frozen into black ice again. anything. In fact, I’ve carried sushi I live in constant fear of slipping and around in my backpack all day and, falling and have accepted my fate that come evening, it’s just as fresh as it multiple pairs of pants will, indeed, was when I first took it out of the rip on the way down. Gravel and Novack Café fridge. Delicious. I am salt make incursions into our heavy of the firm belief that you could winter boots and cozy dorm rooms. walk around the Green with a Collis The hot water situation has never smoothie, and by the time you’d have been worse and leaving a building made a lap, the smoothie would be with wet hair is the beginning of more frozen than when you started. pneumonia or, at the very least, Plus, your water bottle is always cold. hair icicles. Unlucky car owners That is an underappreciated fact. spend an unreasonable amount What, you’re one of those people who of time digging drinks lukewarm out their vehicles “Not infrequently, water? Don’t even from snowdrifts. look at me.

I’ve compared my I wear so many layers of clothing MWF trek between 4. You have a t h a t l e av i n g excuse to the Class of 1978 Life great a classroom fall down while b e c o m e s a n Sciences Center and walking. T his ordeal similar the Black Visual Arts one might just to how I imagine be for me. I have astronauts suit Center to climbing a tendency to u p t o e n t e r Mount Everest.” smack into things. the vacuum Like my bedpost, of space. Not my door, my desk, infrequently, I’ve my desk chair — compared my really anything MWF trek between the Class of in my general vicinity. My ominous 1978 Life Sciences Center and the number of bruises have no real cause Black Visual Arts Center to climbing except my extraordinary lack of Mount Everest. spatial awareness. At the very least, Despite trials and tribulations, the number of times I’ve fallen this Dartmouth students still know how term (four, if you were wondering, to rally during winter term. There and once in the middle of a crosswalk) are a few obscenely positive people provides a reasonable excuse. who manage to find the bright side in the darkness of a 4 p.m. sunset. I’m 5. You can wear the same clothes not one of those people, but here’s for a week straight and no one will what I’d say if I were: notice. During winter, I recognize the mass of coats and hats and scarves as a 1. You can person only eat an obscene by the color “Despite trials and amount of of their fo o d d u r i n g tribulations, Dartmouth backpack. t h e w i n t e r. students still know how In my head, S e r i o u s l y, everyone no one will to rally during winter wears the question you if term.” same thing you down four every day Lou’s pancakes d u r i n g and then order winter, the hash browns to go (I’m not speaking way God intended. Feel free to from experience). It’s winter — you look like a hermit as long as you’re need the sustenance. Personally, I in Hanover. Full-on sweatsuit is don’t think you need an excuse to definitely an aesthetic. Is it a desirable consume an ungodly amount of food one? Come ask me to my face. You’re at any time of the year. During winter, not dressing for comfort — you’re apparently, other people agree with dressing for survival. me. Mazel tov.

6. The snow is a reasonable 2. You get bragging rights. When explanation for why you’re late. Late you return to your hometown and to class? It is definitely not because inevitably run into annoying Brad of the King Arthur Flour drink in from 11th grade chem, you can your hand. Nope, it was the snow. I’m finally prove that he’s not as cool as he not going to say that I’m chronically thinks he is. You’ve braved -17-degree late: I’m just going to say that people weather, so take that, Brad. Yeah, so may or may not have tried to stage

SUNNY TANG/THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF

an intervention for me at some point.

It’s not a total fabrication, you know.

I’d probably leave my room faster if I didn’t have to mentally prepare myself to be frozen. I’m not late to dinner because I wanted to finish that one episode. Don’t you know it’s a blizzard out there?

8. The real blessing of winter is not the veritable winter wonderland that appears or the fun winter sports that I don’t take part in. NO. The real blessing is the emergence of kids who walk around in shorts and a t-shirt. The. Whole. Time. I’m told by people that other colleges also have 7. When one kid who t h e s u n “The real blessing is the spends the does come entire winter out, it’s a emergence of kids who proving their s e n s a t i o n walk around in shorts and a superiority akin to a over the t-shirt.

The. Whole.

Time.” professor elements letting (the ultimate class out live action e a r l y. w w man vs.

Euphoria n a t u r e might be a strong word, but I would literary trope our 9th grade English argue that it does not do justice to teachers would salivate over). Here at the feeling of seeing the sun for the Dartmouth, we have not simply one first time in months. Finally, I can voice crying out in the wilderness, but stop worrying that I’ll die of some MULTIPLE brave souls. The three weird 14th-century disease pirates or four C.O.A.T.— Coldest of All got from living below deck. One time, Time — kids are truly the best part the temperature got just over freezing of my winters here. I just have a few and I swear I saw at least 10 people questions for them: wearing short sleeves. I guess when you’re living in a walk-in freezer, your a. Are you sure you’re not cold? standards dip a bit. We’re keeping the You look cold. bar real low here, folks. b. Do you have winter clothes

sitting in your room right now, or did you come to school with the awareness that you were a straight savage? c. Does this mean that you walk around, I don’t know, just flat-out birthday suit when it gets any warmer than freezing? d. What does your grandmother say to you? e. Because there are so many of you, have you started a Groupme? f. Follow up, can I please be added to it? g. This one is not a question — I just want to talk to you.

The term is almost over, but fear not kids, we are looking forward to a term with slightly more hours of daylight. Spring: a time when we do the same things we do in winter, but don’t have the excuse of cold and snow. During Week Eight of spring term, the snow will finally melt, for real this time, and campus will turn into one big mudslide, allergies abound. Classes will be spent gazing longingly out the window at the outdoors we only now want to venture out. Oh Dartmouth, I can’t wait to be back here in two weeks when it’s technically spring but just as cold!

4// MIRROR

Turning Over a New Leaf STORY

By Alexa DiCostanzo

There is an ancient Sufi poem our sorrows hollow out within us. that goes,“Sorrow prepares you for How do we cope with feelings of joy. It violently sweeps everything emptiness, insecurity and loss? How out of your house, so that new joy can we use discomfort, rejection can find space to enter. It shakes and uncertainty as opportunities the yellow leaves from the bough of to enact positive changes in our your heart, lives? What are the so that fresh "But sometimes it green leaves will green leaves grow in the place of can grow in takes everything others that were so their place. being uprooted at violently swept out It pulls up once to realize you of your house? the rotten Rejection is a roots, so that can navigate the cruel teacher, but new roots situation." it can also remind h i d d e n us of our potential beneath for resilience and have room -JAMIE FENTON '20 s t r e n g t h . Ja m i e t o g r o w.

Fenton ’20 spoke Whatever about her early days sorrow shakes from your heart, far in Hanover, “[After arriving at better things will take their place.” Dartmouth,] my life got really Ahem. Now that I’ve quoted chaotic. I got really sick, I broke Rumi like some kombucha-sipping, up with my boyfriend and [I lost] flower crown-wearing, basic white a lot of things that made me feel girl with an “Om” tattoo, let’s talk grounded.” She had to forge about what this poem means. I new paths when she returned to read these words years ago and, school after the breakup, which admittedly, had no idea how to was intimidating and scary. “But relate to them. Sorrow? As a sometimes it takes everything being precursor to joy? What? Why? uprooted at once to realize you can Wasn’t it possible to just skip over navigate the situation,” she said. “I sorrow and self-doubt, and fast- think you start to think you have to forward to singing and dancing depend on certain people to get you and self-actualization? I used to through weeks at Dartmouth. But think I had to avoid pain at all suddenly you come back, and things costs. I ran from fear, rejection and are fine. You’re like, ‘Oh, I actually uncertainty like it was the plague. didn’t really need that person.’

But an interesting, nagging fact If anything, the relationship was of life eventually revealed itself exhausting.” to me after enough heartbreak and disappointment came to pass.

The fact of the matter is, every worthwhile and life-changing experience I have ever had has come directly or indirectly out of rejection, failure or loss.

As human beings, we know that to live means to experience sorrow, even if we later realize our problems aren’t the end of the world. Each time we encounter unrequited love, a breakup, a rejection from a school or job; whenever we are criticized, step outside our comfort zone, lose a competition or feel lonely, we are reminded of just how vulnerable we can be. Suffering, ranging from the minute everyday stressors to lifelong hardships, is a human universal.

We all feel bad when we do poorly on a test, struggle in the aftermath of a breakup or consider the fact that our job applications have all gone unanswered. Most of us feel fear and apprehension when we move to a city far from friends and family, where everything is new and unfamiliar. Each change is terrifying in its own way, and each, in its own way, entails some version of sorrow.

More important, though, is what we do with the space that

As Henry Ford famously said, persistent, things will eventually “failure is simply the opportunity play out,” she said. “I think I have to begin again, this time more faith in the fact that I know I work intelligently.” In high school, hard. When things don’t go my Breanna Glover ’22, who now runs way, it’s just going to motivate me track here at Dartmouth, started off more.” her freshman year track career as Rejection can also come with its one of the “slowest people” on the own silver linings, as Edward Lu ’21 team. By the time she graduated learned after he was turned down and started preparing for college, from the undergraduate advisor however, she prog ram this had become ye a r. “ I w a s o n e o f t h e "There's a little part pretty salty for fastest people of me, deep down, a hot second,” in the state. he admitted. “I T h e j o u r n ey that knows if I keep was upset for wasn’t always at something enough, the whole week. easy. “My first and be persistent, I didn’t know time at States, what to do with as a sophomore, things will eventually myself after I I came in last play out." was rejected.” [during my But, he says, race]. By 15 the dismissal seconds,” she -BREANNA GLOVER '22 was probably said. So how a blessing in did she decide disguise. “I to persevere in the sport, rather realized [afterwards] what a time accept a loss? commitment it was, and being in the “Rather than thinking of the musical this year, I wouldn’t have whole race as a failure, or my whole been able to really handle that,” he season as a failure, I think it was said. “I applied for it again this year, really important to view failure as and now I feel a lot more prepared an agent for change,” Glover said. for it.”

She suggested that we grow more I have done some pretty dramatic when things aren’t handed directly things to grow some proverbial to us — hardships force people to green leaves. After a breakup, I evolve and work harder. “There’s like to take a break from routine. a little part of me, deep down, that I’ll often do a less than luxurious knows if I work hard enough, if I version of what travel brochures keep at something enough, and be might call a “rejuvenating weekend

in Paris/Vegas/Florida,” except my getaway lasts three to five weeks and I live somewhere without indoor plumbing. It would be sad if it wasn’t so effective. Having your senses assaulted is a good way to reset your mental batteries. The best part of it, though, is that those novel experiences don’t just take my mind off of who or what I’m trying to move on from. The people I meet, hobbies I pick up and ways in which I inevitably evolve help to fill that space that loss created. When I’m finally ready to properly grieve the end of a relationship, I have a whole new repertoire of incredible memories, friends and inspiration to fall back on. What’s more, I’m prouder for having pushed myself to new limits. It sounds corny, but it’s true, or else I wouldn’t do it so often.

Living in limbo is scary. But without our hardships, we’d never be pushed towards personal progress and change. Struggle is an indicator of growth. It is almost impossible to evolve without suffering, because to be challenged, by definition, is to be pushed to our limits. To rejection, loss, fear, uncertainty and disappointment, I now say: bring it on. It may be uncomfortable to shed our old leaves, but the emptiness left in their wake offers up to us endless possibilities of something better, if we only have the courage to reach out and grasp them.

ELLA HALL/THE DARTMOUTH

MIRROR //5

From Scandal to Opportunity: Virginia's Political Turmoil STORY

By Helen Horan

February has been a hellish month for my home state of Virginia. The state has been hit with a storm of scandals that have rocked the political hierarchy.

First, there was the revelation that Governor Ralph Northam had worn blackface in the past when a photo surfaced from his medical yearbook. He offered an apology but then came a reversal, as Northam ignored calls for his resignation. Another admittance of blackface followed suit by a different top state leader — Attorney General Mark Herring.

And on top of all this, Lieutenant Gover nor Justin E. Fairfax, Northam’s designated successor, faced two allegations of past sexual assault during the same week. (The Governor, Lieutenant Governor and Attorney General rank in the top five most powerful leaders in the Virginia state government — all three positions are currently held by Democrats clouded in scandal). While the sexual assault allegations add to the ongoing conversation during this #MeToo era, the blackface confessions have reignited conversations about racism we thought we no longer needed. All of this happened during African-American history month. Virginia is not doing well.

An Inescapable History The magnitude of the state’s systemic history of racism and mistreatment of AfricanAmericans cannot be summarized in a few paragraphs. It is a shameful and ongoing story stained with centuries of slavery, slews of Jim Crow laws and the 2017 white nationalist rally that turned deadly.

The remnants are there: I often drive on what was, until recently, known as Jefferson Davis Highway or spot Confederate flags around me. On the capital’s main road, Monument Avenue, enormous statues of Confederate soldiers cast haunting shadows down at passersby, reminding them of a not-so-distant past.

Yet my state has come a long way, and it is one I am proud to call home. Virginia regards itself as a political outlier in the South and a vessel of change of which Ralph Northam has often been the captain. College Democrats member Jacob Maguire ’21 noted the commendable shift in Virginia politics in the past 10 years, citing the three Democratic women who were elected to the U.S. House of Representatives this year as evidence of Virginia’s growing progressivism. The state supported Barack Obama twice and Hillary Clinton for president and elected

America’s first ever elected black governor in 1985.

Virginia runs through my blood.

Both of my parents attended the University of Virginia, my siblings went to college in-state and my sister’s boyfriend is a student at the medical school Northam attended.

This progressive yet historic place raised me — it is where I caught lighting bugs and relished snow days, visited presidents’ estates and waited for Septembers to come. Our state motto is “Virginia is for Lovers,” an ethos sadly incongruent with hateful acts like Northam’s. As Virginia faces intense scrutiny for a dismal past, I find myself reexamining my perception of the state as a progressive-minded “New South” haven. But in all this darkness I am desperately searching for some tint of light. Ergo, I seek to find a silver lining from these heartbreaking headlines from Virginia.

What is Blackface?

Blackface is a form of theatrical makeup used by performers, often white, to represent a caricature of an African American. In 2019 (as well as in 1984 when Northam acknowledges donning blackface for a Michael Jackson costume), society largely understands that blackface is unambiguously racist.

For most, however, this is where our knowledge ceases. The offence is often tucked away, better kept where we do not have to see its blatant racial ugliness. It is usually not in our textbooks; rarely do students learn much about it in schools. But if any good can come out of Virginia’s current disaster, it will be a recognition and increased education about blackface and its existence in the past and present. As we condemn Northam and Herring for racism, it is important we do justice to our testimony and educate ourselves about the practice and why it is such a painful mark on African American history.

Blackface minstrelsy emerged in the United States in the 1830s and quickly became a popular form of entertainment in the country during the 19th century.

The theatrical form was central to “how white Americans came into their own identity and worked through what it means to be white,” explained Kellen Hoxworth, a postdoctoral fellow in theater at Dartmouth. Hoxworth researches the history of blackface and his current book project, entitled “Transoceanic Blackface: Empire, Race, and Performance,” traces the formation of blackface throughout the British empire and broader world.

“There were many active and organized movements in the 1950s and ’60s to push back against the derogatory practice, but that of course does not mean it went away, it just went elsewhere,” clarified Hoxworth. College campuses were the main environments where blackface persisted as means for whites to reclaim their space in response to integration. Modern forms of the vice have kept us from escaping the painful legacy.

In 2013, Dartmouth faced backlash after Alpha Delta fraternity and Delta Delta Delta (now Chi Delta) sorority hosted a “Bloods and Crips” themed party that mocked black culture with dress and language. Even our beloved alumni Theodor Geisel ’25 is not immune from crticisim.

According to NPR, Seuss wrote and performed in an entire minstrel show in college where the main character was in blackface.

Children’s literature scholar Philip Nel has researched the racial origins of “The Cat in the Hat” and linked it to blackface. In essence, the form was ubiquitous.

By the time of Northam’s offense, the practice had gone mostly underground. But the ever truth about blackface is its remarkable persistence; every so often it creeps back up and sends a shock through the system. Our discomfort with race is prodded, we are reminded of a past we want to forget, and the outcry begins again. Hoxworth calls blackface “capacious” and believes its simplicity, the act of dressing as “the other” in order to understand oneself, allows for its longevity.

Can Blackface be Washed Off ?

Despite almost universal calls for Northam’s resignation from Democratic leaders across Virginia and the nation, as well as by the College Democrats, the Governor intends to remain in office and try to mend the racist scar. Currently he is planning a series of discussions around the state on race, a sort of “reconciliation tour.” Northam believes this moment “can be the first small step to open a discussion about these difficult issues,” and plans to devote the rest of his time in office towards improving race relations. Perhaps here is our silver lining — the opportunity for honest conversations and racial progress.

Hoxworth, however, is weary of Northam’s “Reconciliation Tour” and this “washing-off the mask” plan because that has always been a trope of blackface.

“If we are thinking about how blackface creates a white identity

that only happens by washing off the blackface,” he said. The form rests on the idea that blackness can be put on and scrubbed off so that black people exist only insofar as to edify whites.

Northam’s well-managed footsteps toward redemption are not a real confrontation of blackface, but rather a deliberate movement away from it. He is currently saying and doing the proper things to reintegrate into society. At the same time, there are some signs suggesting the insensitive incident was not a one-off, but a symptom of something else.

Throughout his attempts to prove himself not racist, Northam has struggled to show he has a full grasp of black history. He referred to slaves as “indentured servants,” nearly responded to a request to moonwalk (in reference to his blackface for his Michael Jackson costume) and just last week, the Governor’s wife allegedly handed raw cotton to African-American students during a tour she gave of her mansion. Is this racism or just cluelessness? If we are willing to forgive someone for an act of ignorance — perhaps benign, perhaps malicious — it is important for Virginia citizens, myself included, to ask how far that ignorance goes.

Transcending Colorblindness Many who personally know Northam can’t square that he could commit such a vile act.

Some mention his childhood as proof of innocence. Northam’s parents kept him in the integrated public school system instead of sending their son to an all-white private school, as was common for people of their stature. A young Northam often hung out in black neighborhoods, and a significant number of his classmates were African-American.

Yet isn’t the “I have black friends” defense dated? Clearly vicinity to black people does not shield white people from committing racist acts. The argument that Northam grew up in proximity to blacks is a shallow one neglecting the importance of thoughtful a n d c o m p l e x c o nve r s a t i o n s surrounding racism. Unwilling to recognize racial differences and his white privilege, instead Northam claimed he doesn’t see color: “I have a lot of African-American friends that I went to school with, played ball with, and I suspect I’ve had as much exposure to people of color as anybody.”

Maybe instead of pretending that race doesn’t exist, it is important to see color and how

it has disenfranchised some and empowered others. If Northam truly grasped what it meant to be black, I doubt he would have smeared shoe polish on his face.

Race is a touchy topic, and people still do not know how to talk about it, but it is time we try. We need to have these conversations that will be unavoidably messy and uncomfortable, but raw and necessary. Hopefully we will see Northam, and other leaders, address concrete issues beyond the superficial offence of blackface — law enforcement reform, lack of school funding and continued housing discrimination. The silver lining can be the recognition of racial disadvantages and the implementation of policies toward dismantling them.

The Political Lessons While we cannot erase the past, we do not have to stay imprisoned by it. Beyond the moral lessons, there are concrete political lessons from this disaster. Maguire noted that this situation demonstrates “the importance of thoroughly vetting candidates in primary elections in detail, even if that involves asking difficult questions or uncovering challenging issues.”

In pur suit of atonement, Northam must first ask what systemic racist policies need to be changed in order to help black Virginians. This could materialize as the expansion of voter rights, improved health care or criminal justice reform. Politicians need to build trust by listening to marginalized groups they are supposed to serve. In the case of Northam, it may be stepping down that is in the best interest of his constituents.

Forgiveness This situation ignites a discussion on the nature forgiveness to which Pastor Andy Sutton of Trinity Baptist Church in Lebanon spoke to me about. He believes the black community has an amazing opportunity at hand to offer forgiveness.

“The extension of forgiveness is beautiful,” Sutton said.

From a pastor’s perspective, to forgive one’s enemy is a way to imitate God. Northam’s sins calls on us to be merciful and give him a chance to repent. But real repentance part will take more than a crafted apology and careful words; it demands real action to repay those who have been historically wronged.

Maguire is a former member of The Dartmouth Staff.

6 //MIR ROR

The Light at the End of the Tunnel: When Illness Strikes STORY

By Alexandra Eldredge

In the words of journalist left. beso.”

Caitlin Moran, all of life’s events I waited there amid T h e k i s s i n g d i s e a s e. O r : can be divided into two categories: h o l i d a y m a k e r s a n d a f e w glandular fever, mononucleosis, “things which are amazing at the b u s i n e s s p e o p l e r e a d i n g Epstein-Barr virus. The relief of time. And things which are awful newspapers. Then, the sounds receiving a diagnosis was shortat the time, which then turn of sirens started in the distance, lived. I had to stay overnight, into amazing anecdotes.” My d r a w i n g n e a r e r u n t i l t w o and the hospital was demanding experience with mono was firmly paramedics ran into the lobby with €1,000 upfront. More tears and a in the latter camp. a stretcher. So much for discretion. few phone calls later, my parents My family and I were hiking Mortified, I insisted on walking the made a reluctant bank transfer. in the Alpujarras mountains in 20 feet to the ambulance.

That night I lay naked in bed Spain. No matter how hard I tried, I n t h e a m b u l a n c e , t h e atop the hospital sheets. The touch I could not keep pace. We were paramedics took my blood. I of fabric to my skin intensified not at that high an altitude, but to regrettably did not know how to the itch. A young male nurse me the air felt thin. My body was say “please tell me when it’s safe to ensured that I had a thin layer of not cooperating, and so while they look” in Spanish, and so I opened cortisone over my skin at all times. hiked, I spent most my eyes to I amused myself thinking that, of the week in bed see a red under different circumstances, a feeling inexplicably “Being cooled from p o o l a t young man massaging lotion onto fatigued. their feet. my naked body would be erotic — the inside out was a E ve n t u a l l y my They had this was anything but. Strangely, peculiar sensation. family flew home d r o p p e d I didn’t feel embarrassment. and I traveled alone Everything about the vials of My physical discomfort had t o F u e n g i ro l a , a my blood. transcended social qualms. I really this experience was seaside town in B a c k t o liked that nurse — he kept me Andalusia. It was foreign, including s q u a r e company when I needed it. I will October and, in spite the language. I cried, one. never forget how to say “it itches” of the weather being O n e in Spanish. “Me pica” was my mild, I assumed that hoping no one would paramedic never-ending chant that night. the red splotches notice. More nurses explained I ended up staying three nights on my chest were t h a t m y at the hospital. Flying home was came and pricked me just heat rash. My symptoms out of the question. My spleen family have always with needles, each w e r e was enlarged, rendering the cabin joked that I am a promising to be the consistent pressure dangerous to my organs. bad Texan. But the with a My liver was also swollen, giving r a s h s p re a d a n d last.” s e v e r e my skin an unpleasant yellow hue. my lips started to a l l e r g i c One positive that came out of this swell. Assured that r e a c t i o n . ordeal was the rapid expansion of it was nothing an O n c e a t my Spanish medical vocabulary. antihistamine couldn’t fix, I the hospital, nurses inserted a drip I bet you don’t know how to say sought out a local chemist. The and pumped cooling fluids through spleen in Spanish! woman behind the counter looked my veins. Being cooled from The second day in hospital was concerned and advised I go to the inside excruciatingly dull. the hospital. I explained that that out was a A nurse informed wouldn’t be necessary — besides, p e c u l i a r “I ended up staying me that I couldn’t I had a flight to catch tomorrow; s e n s a t i o n . three nights at the eat because I I would visit my doctor when I got Everything was due to have back home. about this hospital. Flying a sonogram. But By evening, angry welts covered experience home was out of not to worry, the every limb. Even my palms itched. was foreign, appointment was the question.

My It was relentless — definitely not i n c l u d i n g scheduled for 11 innocent enough to be heat rash. t h e spleen was enlarged, a.m. Come 6 p.m., I frantically applied creams, to no l a n g u a g e . rendering the cabin there was still avail. My body was under siege. I I c r i e d , no news of the called the hotel front desk for help, hoping no pressure dangerous sonogram. I was and within 10 minutes a matronly one would to my organs, ... One famished, so I told nurse arrived at the door. notice. the nurse I hadn’t positive that came out She did not hide her horror. More nurses eaten that day: Under the harsh bathroom lights, c a m e a n d of this ordeal was the “No he comido she examined my welt-ridden body. p r i c k e d rapid expansion of hoy.”

The mirror showed a sad reflection m e w i t h Unsympathetic, – a girl with greying lips and a pink, n e e d l e s , my Spanish medical she explained there swollen face. My tongue sat fat in e a c h vocabulary. I bet you was nothing she my mouth. promising do. Dinner don’t know how to say could “Es muy fatal. Muy grave,” was t o b e t h e was at a set time. spleen in Spanish!” the nurse’s verdict. last.

I remembered Although I knew “fatal” in A f t e r seeing a vending Spanish does not have the same m u c h machine at the far meaning as the English “fatal,” I p a r a n o i d end of the hallway, did not enjoy hearing that word. d e l i b e r a t i o n a b o u t h av i n g so I gathered a few coins and The nurse called an ambulance contracted some variety of flesh- mentally prepared myself for and instructed me to bring all the eating parasite, the doctor returned the journey ahead. It was only a medicines I was currently taking. with an official diagnosis. corridor, but I hadn’t walked in a She escorted me to the lobby and “Tienes la enfer medad del while. I was so weak that nurses

would wheelchair me if I needed horribly wrong – the intravenous to get somewhere. But this mission tube was draining me of my blood. had to be clandestine. I couldn’t The sight reminded me of Frida recruit help.

Kahlo’s medical paintings. The I had been horizontal for so long tube connecting me to the bag was that just standing was a dizzying red with my blood, like the thin task. I was attached to a drip, and vessel running between The Two so the metal stand had to come Fridas. Except they are poised — I with me. Unfortunately, its wheels was not. were broken — I ended up having I called my friend who was to half carry the s t u d y i n g apparatus down medicine.

“It took me a full t h e h a l l w a y.

A totally My goal was year to regain my irrational move, in sight. I given that I was strength. When I first inched closer in a hospital to the vending arrived home, I had no surrounded by machine, which medicines and learned actual doctors. promised to My friend told r e l i e v e m y the hard way that you me that she had hunger. I wore cannot fill a Spanish no idea what a hospital gown was going on prescription outside that was only — that I needed loosely tied in of Spain. I had to take to urgently seek the back and, breaks on the landings help. I pressed as I lumbered the emergency on the way to my along, it flailed button and a open, exposing bedroom.” nurse came my behind. I sauntering did not care. in. “Por qué Modesty was lloras?” — she a thing of the asked me why past. After I was crying. much exertion, I reached my Her cool demeanour really pissed destination. To my disgust, I me off. I pointed to the IV bag discovered that the machine only on the bed filling with my blood. vended bottles of water. What the She huffed. Now we were both f— kind of vending machine only annoyed. I learned that the IV bag vends water? Incensed, I made the must always be kept above heart odyssey back to my bed. I snacked level to ensure that fluids flow into on cough drops until dinner time. the body, not vice versa.

My days began at 6 a.m. when The next day, I flew home. I the nurse came in to take blood. still looked ghastly — the young This hospital was a time warp boy seated to my right stared with — totally divorced from the real big, frightened eyes, and I didn’t world. Minutes and hours became blame him. I had visible welts all meaningless units of measurement. over my limbs, my face was puffy It was a never-ending cycle of and my hair lay matted on my head. blood tests, liver enzyme counts, I told him not to worry; I wasn’t steroid injections and medical contagious. The air hostess gave jargon I didn’t understand. More me sympathetic looks throughout appointments. More boredom. the flight. I tried not to make eye By now my arms looked like the contact with anyone. bruised limbs of a junkie.

It took me a full year to regain There was one final calamity my strength. When I first arrived that concluded this series of home, I had no medicines and unfortunate events. I needed to learned the hard way that you use the bathroom. This was the cannot fill a Spanish prescription sole reason I ever left the hospital outside of Spain. I had to take bed. I never showered. I smelled breaks on the landings on the the musk of my own body odour way to my bedroom. The stairs and didn’t care to fix it. But I was were an overwhelming obstacle. I not at the point of being willing obsessively took B12 supplements to lie in my own urine. I could and steroids, waiting for my muster the voyage to the lavatory. body to return to its non-swollen The drip stand and its broken state. For the first months of wheels impeded my mobility so, recovery, I couldn’t go for a walk having learnt my lesson from the without feeling light-headed. Yes, hallway episode, I removed the bag mononucleosis ravaged my body, of fluids. I would carry it. Much but it taught me gratitude. Now easier. To my horror, I noticed I know how incredible it is to be a crimson stain appear in the able-bodied. These days, my body clear fluids. It grew tendrils like a no longer limits me. I can even blot of ink. Something had gone keep up with my parents on hikes

MIRROR //7

What Do You Mean? Idioms and Their Origins STORY

By Maggie Doyle

This week’s issue of the Mirror is themed “silver linings.” The phrase literally has nothing to do with silver, or linings, but somehow I didn’t think twice about what it meant. Idioms like this one are so ingrained in American English that as a native speaker, I never think about how neither “silver” nor “linings” individually have any meaningful similarity to what they signify together. It’s strange to me that words can lose their meanings entirely to serve the meaning of a phrase. That got me thinking — what does “silver linings” actually mean? Where did it come from? I extended those questions to 10 popular idioms to uncover their (often ambiguous) history.

Silver Linings The phrase “silver linings” is likely related to the phrase “every cloud has a silver lining,” which generally means that you can always find some good in the bad. The phrase apparently comes from “Comus,” a masque (think early 17th century musical) by John Milton, in which he says, “Was I deceived? Or did a sable cloud/Turn forth her silver lining on the night?”

Speak of the devil “Speak of the devil” is the short form idiom for the phrase “speak of the devil and he doth appear.” It’s used when someone arrives just as or after they were being talked about. Unlike some of our other idioms, this phrase has been popular for centuries. Its first known textual appearance was

in Piazza Universale in 1666, in which Giovanni Torriano writes, “The English say, Talk of the Devil, and he’s presently at your elbow.” This line references the phrase’s already existing popularity, which originated from the superstition that it was dangerous to mention the devil by name (think Voldemort).

Raining cats and dogs “It’s raining cats and dogs,” an odd but widely accepted way of saying that it’s raining very hard, is another idiom with unclear origins. The phrase first appears in “Olor Iscanus,” a collection of poems by Henry Vaughan in 1651, and it referred to a roof that was held against “dogs and cats rained in shower.” The phrase disappeared for a while, until it resurfaced in Jonathan Swift’s “Complete Collection of Genteel and Ingenious Conversation,” which was a satirical critique of the upper class, in 1738. One of his characters feared it would “rain cats and dogs,” marking the phrase’s popularity. Alternately, the idiom might have more ancient roots.

Odin, the Norse god of storms, was often pictured with dogs (symbols of wind), and witches were often pictured with black cats, (signs of heavy rain for sailors). Therefore, “raining cats and dogs” may refer to a storm with wind (dogs) and heavy rain (cats).

Under the weather The phrase “under the weather,” which generally means to feel sick,

probably has nautical origins. When a sailor wan’t feeling great in the old days, he was sent below deck, far away from the weather. According to “Salty Dog Talk: The Nautical Origins of Everyday Expressions” by Bill Beavis, “originally it meant to feel seasick or to be adversely affected by bad weather. The term is correctly ‘under the weather bow ...’” The weather bow is apparently the side of a ship from which bad weather was coming.

Hold your horses This phrase originally literally meant to pull up on a horse’s reins in order to halt it. When people were traveling on horseback or on a vehicle drawn by horses, “hold your horses” wasn’t an idiom. However, the phrase survived the industrialization of transport, and today it essentially means “wait.”

By the 1840s the phrase “hold your hosses,” with hoss as a slang term for horse, was being used in a figurative sense to mean wait, stop, restrain Cold feet yourself. By the 1930s, by which The phrase “cold feet” refers time horses had become largely to losing one’s obsolete as a mode n e r ve at t h e of transport, the “Idioms like this one l a s t m i n u t e. ter m become It’s o f t e n are so ingrained in today’s version, applied to a hold your American English that “horses.” wedding,when a bride or groom as a native speaker, I may feel unable never think about how Cat’s out of to go through the bag w i t h t h e i r neither ‘silver’ nor This idiom, c o m m i t m e n t . ‘linings’ individually meaning that The origin a p rev i o u s l y have any meaningful of the phrase hidden secret has i s g e n e r a l l y similarity to what they been disclosed, is attributed to signify together.” also a metaphor.

Stephen Crane, The cat is the who wrote in secret, and the 1896 his novel bag is the thing “Maggie: A Girl of the Streets,” hiding it. When a cat gets out of the “I knew this was the way it would bag, it is out in the open, or revealed be. They got cold feet.” Though to the general public. The phrase first his meaning is unclear, the phrase appeared in 1760, in a book review in could refer to having one’s feet The London Magazine, wherein the “frozen,” in the sense that one reviewer notes, “We could have wished would be unable to move forward. that the author had not let the cat out

of the bag.”

Pass with flying colors To “pass something with flying colors,” or to succeed, is another nautical idiom.

When naval fleets returned from their endeavors, they used flags, a.k.a. “colors,” to communicate how they’d fared at sea. If a fleet was victorious, they would sail into port with flags flying from the masthead - thus, “flying colors” became a symbol for success.

By the 18th century, the phrase had evolved to a figurative one, applied to any kind of triumph.

Break a leg This popular theatrical idiom, used to wish actors good luck in their performance, likely comes from superstition. The most popular origin theory of the phrase surrounds the idea that actors were a very superstitious crowd back in the day and felt wishing someone “good luck” would inevitably doom them. Origin theories include the idea that if an actor puts on a good performance, they will have to bend their knee to bow or curtsy at the end. Some attribute the phrase as a reference to a performance of Shakespeare’s “Richard III,” in which 18th century actor David Garrick was so invested in his performance he didn’t notice he broke his leg on stage. Less plausibly, there exists the idea that the idiom could reference to John Wilkes Booth, who broke his leg when jumping on stage and attempting to flee after shooting President Abraham Lincoln.

8// MIRROR

Things Are Looking Up PHOTO

By Naina Bhalla