The Dartmouth 02/11/2022

SOPHIE BAILEY/THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF

THE DARTMOUTH WINTER CARNIVAL ISSUE

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EDITORS’ NOTE

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 2022

Table of Contents

HANNAH LI/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF

Every morning, thousands of students pass the checkered floors of Blobby to grab a cup of coffee at Novack Cafe before heading to their favorite study spots to grind out a problem set or catch up on readings. In many ways, our snow-covered campus — both literally and figuratively — revolves around a clock. As we go about our day-to-day lives, every minute is precious; the hand on the Baker clock moves — at least the one that isn’t missing — and so do we. As students, we’re either closing our laptops to head to the next class, practicing a new song for a showcase or juggling jobs — paid or unpaid — on campus as we get through the shortest term of the year.

In this special issue, we bring light to labor issues, from the crucial but unpaid positions of the Dartmouth Outing Club to the members of Student Assembly. Stepping back — in a figurative sense — we reflect on the last year, from homelessness in the Upper Valley to the “death” of the education department. Looking ahead, we explore the new developments on the West End of campus and at the Hood Museum and analyze classism in winter clothing.

This Winter Carnival, we encourage you to sit back, relax, and enjoy the festivities; time, once lost, can never be found again.

Sincerely, Kami and Daniel

Student organizations run on unpaid labor

2

“It’s become a crisis”: Homelessness in the Upper Valley

3

Inside the disbandment of the education department

3

Student Assembly president and vice president reflect on year of leadership

4

Q&A with provost Dave Kotz ’86 and executive vice president Rick Mills

4

Looking back at the Hood, a center of controversy

5

Examining the future of sustainable architecture at Dartmouth

5

Verbum Ultimum: In Solidarity

6

Gart: Control the Criticism

6

Arrington: Vessels of Productivity

7

Teszler: Clocking Out(side)

7

Unraveling the Mystery: An Investigation Into the Missing Clock Hand

8

A Flock of Canada Goose: A Look Into Classism in Winter Clothing

8

The Dartmouth Aires Celebrate 75 Years

9

Photo Essay: Around the Clock

10

Student organizations run on unpaid labor

BY EMILY FAGELL

The Dartmouth Staff

Like many Dartmouth students, Ledyard Canoe Club president Gab Smith ’22 is constantly juggling: Smith balances club leadership, academics and her social life in addition to a 20hour per week job at a New York-based mortgage company. Smith initially pursued leadership in Ledyard because she was determined to get things done and felt like a “natural leader.” However, Smith said that it is a “privilege” to have enough time to commit to her various activities, noting that students often have too much on their plates.

“I think that Dartmouth students in general are stretched very thin,” Smith said. “Because they love something, they will put in that extra time and move things around, get less sleep and it’s not always fair. I wish that [unpaid leadership] could be something that’s more accessible, because you do have to have that time.”

Paid campus positions can be a central part of the college experience, with many students taking on roles as peer tutors, baristas and research assistants alike. But unpaid positions are just as integral to campus life. At Dartmouth, students regularly step up to manage clubs and other organizations, receiving no monetary compensation for their work.

Two such situations on campus are Greek governance — which encompasses the Greek Leadership Council, Interfraternity Council, Gender-Inclusive Greek Council, InterSorority Council and National PanHellenic Council — and the Dartmouth Outing Club, which houses subdivisions such as Ledyard and Cabin and Trail.

According to U.S. News, approximately 60%of eligible Dartmouth students are affiliated with Greek Life, and the DOC has more than 1,500 student members.

Despite their notable presence on campus, leaders in these organizations are not paid for their efforts.

According to DOC president Emery Rheam ’22, students dedicate a “huge amount of time” to their unpaid roles in leadership.

“The biggest impact is it’s just a huge amount of time,” Rheam said.

“It is many, many hours of my life that are dedicated to this. The ability to volunteer is a luxury — [the fact] that I can spend my free time doing that is

a luxury — that I’m really fortunate to have.”

Rheam added that the time spent working for the DOC “could be spent” in a paid position, an opinion echoed

by IFC president Danny Gold ’22. Gold said the lack of pay “definitely restricts” certain leadership positions for those who can afford not to work other jobs.

“There’s really not enough time in the day to do extra stuff,” Gold said, also pointing to burdens imposed by schoolwork and social life.

However, Rheam said that leadership roles are not “fully restrictive” but rather “restrictive to certain jobs,” like ones with fixed schedules. Rheam said she has friends who are able to work jobs with flexible schedules, such as tutoring or paid research, while still holding leadership positions.

Gold said he believes paid leadership would increase the quality of club membership by making the positions more competitive. He added that skilled people who may not otherwise consider leadership may be more incentivized to become more involved.

Likewise, Anne Guidera ’25, who works as a paid ski instructor, said she is more committed to her paid position than her unpaid roles as a member of the Allen House executive board and an ambassador for the Dartmouth Political Union.

“I think I am more committed just because I have a responsibility to be there, and I know that there are students who signed up to learn how to ski and I’m one of the few instructors there,” Guidera said. “I have to be there every Sunday for them, also because I’m getting paid. I have a contract.”

Still, Guidera said she does not believe she is entitled to pay in her other positions.

“You’re serving others,” Guidera said.

“You are choosing to have that position.

And just because you’re a leader, doesn’t mean you deserve to get paid.”

Smith also expressed hesitancy about accepting a salary, saying that monetization could corrupt her relationships with other club members.

“I don’t know if I necessarily would want to be paid,” Smith said. “I think that it would make me feel weird about being president and being somebody that people go to about things. Because it’s like, ‘Are we billing 15 minutes for talking to Abby about getting new boats?’ I feel like it just creates [a] kind of semantics

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Unpaid positions present barriers but can afford valuable opportunities, according to student leaders.

within the leadership position.”

Smith also rejected the idea that pay correlates to commitment, asserting that people are “dedicated” and despite leadership positions being unpaid, elections for Ledyard are “usually contested.”

Alex Breslav ’25, who works as a floor assistant at Alumni Gym and serves as public relations head for Rotaract, agreed that pay does not motivate students to explore their interests. He said that students pursue leadership positions because they are “passionate” and that he does not think receiving a paycheck would make a significant difference.

Breslav added that he spends the same amount of time per week on his paid job as he does his unpaid leadership role, despite the difference in compensation.

Rheam noted another issue with paying student leaders: The money would come out of the budget, reducing funding for other areas such as trips and student experiences.

Smith agreed that funding might pose a problem for experience-based clubs like the DOC. “I think in terms of student clubs, especially within the DOC, I feel like it’s more valuable to have money going towards the actual activities and towards the gear to make sure people are safe,

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as opposed to paying people,” Smith said. “Because then it’s like: ‘Okay, is this going to be a job for you? Or is this a commitment that you actually care about?’”

However, Smith said she thinks that certain leadership positions are deserving of pay, such as those within the diversity, inclusion, justice and equity division of the DOC, which she started in 2020.

“I have considered asking [the DOC directorate and OPO] to pay the coordinator for that [division], because that work is often done by POC and marginalized groups that have to put in a lot more emotional labor, as opposed to just physical labor,” Smith said. “It’s a lot more taxing on those people… I think work like that is definitely something that could and probably should be paid because you’re asking a lot more out of them than you would be asking out of a leader from any other club.”

Smith added that Ledyard currently pays its senior and junior business managers, both of whom work full time and keep the club operating.

Outdoor Programs Office director Coz Teplitz wrote in an emailed statement that there are several other areas in which students may be paid for their work, such as staffing the rental equipment desk or managing the Collis Center.

“We want all students to have the opportunity to participate in student life,” Tepliz wrote. “Beyond providing low- to no-cost programs and activities, we aspire to ensure that there is a mix of involvement opportunities available to students, both operational (paid) and personal interest (unpaid) [...] Our division wants to ensure that there is never a financial barrier to student involvement and will help students who need paid work find a paid position that

fits their skills and interests.”

However, according to Rheam, the issue of paying some students and not others — especially within a large organization like the DOC — poses a “complicated” question: “Where do you draw that line?” She explained that the DOC has countless leaders, and it could be difficult to determine which positions should receive compensation.

Likewise, Smith added that pay could exacerbate hierarchal bureaucracy in DOC clubs.

“Within a lot of the DOC clubs, there is kind of this level of bureaucracy,” she said. “It’s very political in terms of who’s in charge, who’s doing what, who’s a higher level leader [and] who’s allowed to lead this trip.” “[If you pay certain students], you’re also ranking leadership positions,” Smith continued. “So it’s like: Who’s getting paid, and who isn’t?”

Although the leaders are not getting paid for their work, all three said that they have received non-monetary benefits. While some benefits are more tangible — such as free trips and gear discounts — others are more abstract, such as friendship, work experience and the development of new skill sets.

“I have met some of my closest friends through [the DOC],” Rheam said. “And I’ve learned some really cool concrete skills … [like] outdoor skills.”

Gold added that he mentions his IFC experience in job interviews and that he hopes his experience has prepared him for future work. Smith said that her role has made her better at handling uncomfortable situations and that she has found a “community” within Ledyard. “[The Ledyard community] has been the main community for my entire time at Dartmouth,” Smith said. “… [It’s been] invaluable.”

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 2022

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THE DARTMOUTH WINTER CARNIVAL ISSUE

‘It’s become a crisis’: Homelessness in the Upper Valley

ANGELINA SCARLOTTA/THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF

Many factors contribute to the issue in the region, while local organizations work to support homeless folks.

BY Lauren Adler The Dartmouth Staff

Students have bumped up against the Upper Valley’s housing crisis over the past two years, but the region’s lack of affordable housing has also caused a significant number of local residents to face housing insecurity. In the Upper Valley, where homelessness manifests in a rural setting, a lack of visible indicators can create the guise that it doesn’t exist.

Homelessness is extremely difficult to quantify due to the number of different conditions under which a person could be considered homeless — couch-surfing, sleeping in a car or living in a motel all may or may not be considered conditions of homelessness under different survey mechanisms.

One “Point In Time” survey counted the number of people experiencing

homelessness on a single night in January. The survey conducted by several community organizations on Jan. 26 found that at least 110 people are experiencing homelessness in the southern Grafton County area alone.

In addition to counting the numbers of people experiencing homelessness, PIT surveys can help community organizations determine how best to allocate their limited resources, according to Heather Griffin, the assistant prog rams director for LISTEN Community Services, a non-profit that helps underserved communities in the Upper Valley.

“We were able to gather [that] we definitely need a shelter on the New Hampshire side, and more homeless outreach, because it was the outreach organized on that day that was really helpful in gathering accurate numbers,” Griffin said.

While LISTEN provides services such as community dinners and food pantries, thrift stores and monetary support to go toward housing or heating costs, they do not operate a shelter. According to a report published by the Rockefeller Center for Public Policy’s Policy Research Shop in June 2020, the primary shelter that serves the Upper Valley area is the Upper Valley Haven, located in White River Junction. However, the closest shelter in New Hampshire is located in Claremont, a 40-minute drive — or a seven-hour walk, for those who do not own a car — from LISTEN’s food distribution center.

In addition to providing shelter for up to eight families and 20 individual adults between two different shelter facilities, the Haven helps people find permanent housing and runs the Food Shelf, which Haven executive director

Michael Redmond said serves up to 7,000 local families each year.

“Our real intention — our real goal — is that no one should be homeless,” Redmond said. “Putting it positively, everyone should have a home. That’s why we focus on support.”

Both LISTEN and the Haven, in addition to other community organizations, have faced difficulties during COVID-19: In addition to limitations on their services — the Haven’s shelters, for example, are still operating at half capacity, and the organization is not running its regular winter shelter — there are now more people than ever in need following pandemic job losses.

“It was a challenge prior to COVID, but it’s become a crisis at this point,” Griffin said.

Griffin explained that because many local residents lost their jobs during the pandemic, or were forced to work fewer hours in order to care for children no longer attending school in person.

“Some of those households that were just getting by could no longer get by,” Griffin said.

While LISTEN and other community services were never closed during the pandemic, Griffin said that increased need has caused the organization to “get stretched kind of thin at times.”

Both Griffin and Redmond did note a silver lining to the pandemic: Griffin said that Listen received additional g rants to purchase cell phones and service cards so that homeless individuals could more easily contact doctors and landlords, and Redmond said that the state of Vermont offered more motel rooms for a longer period of time to homeless individuals this winter than in previous years.

In addition to the pandemic c o m mu n i t y o rg a n i z at i o n s f a c e challenges in providing aid due to the lack of visibility of rural homelessness.

“Rural homelessness is a hidden phenomenon — you don’t see people on sidewalks as frequently as in D.C. or New York,” said Matt Gannon ’22.

“It really requires work on the ground

in addition to educating oneself about housing security and food insecurity.”

Gannon, who has produced awardwinning documentaries that have raised money for and awareness of people experiencing homelessness, is currently working on starting a student coalition to aggregate knowledge about the local homeless community in order to encourage students to get more involved in the Upper Valley community.

“Engaging with the Upper Valley community is so essential to a complete Dartmouth experience, and it’s also absolutely essential to addressing issues like homelessness and housing insecurity or food insecurity in the Upper Valley,” Gannon said. “I think students can be a huge help in addressing those issues if we just take the initiative to step outside of Hanover and step outside of the Dartmouth bubble.”

Despite the limited visibility of the homeless population in the Hanover area, Griffin and Redmond said that students can help provide support in a variety of ways, including holding drives for food, winter coats, pet items or menstrual health products as well as volunteering at food pantries or community kitchens.

“Just to keep staying informed, stay interested, care — often just that in and of itself, when people actually can look at [the problem] and see it and care, that’s huge,” Griffin said.

Gannon said that he believes that Dartmouth students have a responsibility to learn more about how their presence at the College can impact the issue of local homelessness.

“Dartmouth College is the reason that rents are so high in these areas, and that really puts the onus on people who benefit directly from this institution to be engaging with the community and finding out how our mere presence in the area is affecting people’s lives,” he said. “That is something that we should be really careful to think about.”

Matt Gannon ’22 is a former member of The Dartmouth Staff.

Inside the disbandment of the education department

BY THOMAS BROWN The Dartmouth Staff

Since the education department was disbanded last spring, course offerings in the field have largely remained the same.

Associate dean of faculty for social sciences John Carey explained that there are a “number of criteria” that determine the structuring of the College’s academic departments and programs, such as the number of faculty, student enrollments and student majors and minors.

According to Carey, decisions regarding departmental restructuring are made cooperatively by the president, the provost, the associate deans, the faculty of the relevant departments, dean of faculty and other faculty committees.

Carey said the education de partment was unique among Dartmouth’s departments as the only one not to offer a major. Carey added that such decisions are based on a combination of external and internal committees that review each department approximately every 10 years.

According to Carey, the process begins with the reviewed department beginning a “self-study,” in which they “take stock of their performance and trajectory” over the past decade.

External committees usually include faculty members of other institutions who work with Dartmouth faculty members to review the self-study, who then in turn produce their own report of the department’s status.

“We looked around and Dartmouth was not in a position to create a new school of education,” Carey said. “I think the experience we saw when we looked at other universities was that you either go for the high critical mass or think hard about restructuring the resources you’ve got. So in our case, we decided to pursue the latter.”

According to current sociology professor and for mer education department faculty member Michele Tine, the education department formerly offered a Teacher Education Program providing teacher certification from the state of New Hampshire, with the final cohort of the program graduating in 2017. In addition to the TEP course sequence, participants would conduct a “full ter m of observed student teaching in a local school.” However, Tine said meeting

the requirements of the state in the context of Dartmouth’s academic logistics made the TEP difficult to maintain.

New Hampshire’s g raduation requirements for aspiring teachers also inhibited the department’s capacity to offer a major. According to Tine, New Hampshire requires that certified students “major in the discipline they would teach.” As a result, students would have had to pursue an additional major alongside their education studies, making completion the certification a challenge Tine wrote that these “challenges” with the TEP were noted in the department’s most recent self study, which took place in 2015.

Students are still able to pursue the same education minor they would have been able to under the education department. Tine wrote that while the number varies year to year, around 20 students minor in education each year.

The restructuring of the education department also sought to provide “better opportunities” for the former department’s three faculty members, according to Carey. Tine is now housed in the sociology department, and two former education faculty members, Professor Donna Coch and Professor David Kraemer, are both now in the psychological and brain sciences department. Professor Charles Wheelan, who teaches a class on education and public policy, has remained a lecturer in the public policy program at the Rockefeller Center.

“For faculty, your professional and your intellectual life — or home, I suppose — is really your department,” Carey said. “You need to have a critical mass, you need to have enough colleagues around you for opportunities for collaboration and cooperative work.”

Tine wrote that her transition to the sociology department has been “quite smooth.”

“The nature of my work hasn’t drastically changed since the transition,” she wrote. “I physically moved my office and research lab from Raven House to Blunt Hall, but I still teach the same education courses, I’m conducting the same educationrelated research and I remain closely connected with the other education faculty.”

Students have confir med that the current available educational opportunities match what was provided

when education was a department.

“I was glad that [the for mer department is] still offering the minor because I was already planning on getting that, so it’s good to know I can still continue on that path,” education minor Laurel Semprebon ’22 said. “I was also glad to see that the number of courses they offered didn’t seem to change because there are already not a ton of courses offered.”

According to quantitative social science major May Fahrenthold ’22, whose major includes a focus in education, at the time of the r e s t r u c t u r i n g ’s a n n o u n c e m e n t , the for mer de partment “really emphasized” that restructuring would not interfere with students’ minor or their progress in obtaining the minor. Many students were, however, frustrated by the announcement.

“I was disappointed that the department was being nominally downgraded to a non-department,” education minor Sierra Rainville ’22 said.

Similarly, Fahrenthold noted that it seemed as though the College wasn’t “very interested” in fostering education.

“Already we had a really small [education] department and it didn’t feel like Dartmouth was very focused or interested in growing that department so much as it was letting the department flounder,” Fahrenthold said. “As a

school that wants to find different areas of research and encourage students to become really strong researchers, it’s sad that Dartmouth hasn’t capitalized on education as a field for that and instead seems to kind of just be pulling back.”

Reg arding the future of the education minor, Tine said studying education can be relevant in students’ careers, citing a 2021 survey by the office of institutional research that reported 15% of Dartmouth alumni work in the education field after graduation — one of the top three fields of employment.

“Our goals moving forward are to reach and support as many students interested in education as possible, to spark new student interest in education, and to strengthen the minor,” Tine wrote. “We’re currently exploring ways to make our curriculum more accessible while maintaining our pedagogical integrity, perhaps by cross listing appropriate courses from other departments and programs as EDUC courses and vice versa.”

Semprebon noted her desire to see the education minor expand.

“All of the education courses available in the Fall were ones that I had already taken,” she said. “If the [minor] were to expand a little bit and bring on another one or two professors, they could… offer more courses and maybe attract more students.”

Both Semprebon and Rainville would have been interested in pursuing teacher certification under the TEP had it been available to them.

Semprebon is currently applying to postgraduate certification programs.

“I want to be an elementary school teacher. Now as a senior trying to figure out what my next steps should be as someone who doesn’t have a major in education, doesn’t have any formal preparation for what it’s like to be in a classroom… I have to figure out what my next steps are,” Rainville said.

Rainville and Fahrenthold both expressed their wor ries of any additional reductive changes to the minor.

“I definitely have some concern in the future of whether they’ll keep downgrading the minor or get rid of the education focus,” Rainville said.

In light of the education department’s demotion, Fahrenthold highlighted the importance of education as a discipline.

“I think when you have problems in your education system, it indicates that there’s problems in your society, and when you have problems in your society, it indicates you have a gap in your education system,” she said. “So much of what we impart on people [in schools] about how it is we want you to ideally behave in a society and interact with people and treat people does come from how it is you learn.”

THE DARTMOUTH WINTER CARNIVAL ISSUE

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FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 2022

Student Assembly president, vice president reflect on year of leadership B y Maya Kempf-Harris The Dartmouth Staff

During last year’s Student Assembly campaign cycle, then-candidates Jennifer Qian ’22 and Maggie Johnston ’22 outlined their promises for their respective roles as president and vice president. While they said that COVID-19 and omicron have caused them to shift focus this year, they are still proud of the progress they have made on their promises.

“Because of COVID and the turnover going on at the administrative level, we’ve been forced to focus heavily on advocacy a lot of the time,” Johnston said. “We’re hoping to get more projects going this term, and I think we’ve done a great job of getting some of them up and running already this time.”

Qian said that she has focused on three main topics during her presidency: mental health, student aid and community.

“I think throughout the course of fall term and now winter, we’ve definitely been able to make pretty substantial progress on those things,” Qian said.

“Obviously, COVID-19 has been a pretty big one as well with the omicron surge. That definitely took up a lot of what we’re working on as well.”

Student Assembly mental health committee chair Jessica Chiriboga ’24 pointed to several successes in student advocacy this year, including the introduction of online scheduling for Dick’s House mental health triage appointments and staffing two nurses at all times on the crisis hotline. She said that the next big priority is expanding telehealth options.

“There’s a number of different platfor ms that we’ve explored,” Chiriboga said. “The idea is that we would have 24-hour access like

unlimited counseling, essentially, through these online platforms to try to compensate for some of the bandwidth issues that we’ve experienced with Dick’s House, especially in terms of the inability to do long-term care.”

In Oct. 2021, Student Assembly piloted a project helping students gain access to mental health resources through the Calm app, a digital meditation service. Chiriboga said that this pilot is being used to understand how students are engaging with that service, and that Student Assembly is currently funding 100 subscriptions.

Qian also emphasized that student aid projects, such as restocking a pantry for students and the menstrual product project, have taken precedence this year due to increased need.

“We get a lot of items to stock the pantry during winterim, whether it’s for students who don’t go home or international students who are just staying here,” Qian said. “We’re making sure that we address food insecurity, because dining options are limited during [winterim] when people aren’t usually on campus.”

Qian also emphasized that Student Assembly is “really excited” to have organized access to menstrual products in restrooms around campus.

“Basically every restroom on campus that’s women’s or gender neutral has menstrual products, pads and tampons,” Qian said.

Student Assembly student aid committee chair Anthony Fosu ’24 said that, despite a lack of response from the College, he is still advocating to institutionalize the Dartmouth coach voucher program that Student Assembly runs.

“We’ve been trying to advocate for every student to have access to free coach vouchers, which [would be]

JANE HUANG/THE DARTMOUTH

included in the calculation for financial aid,” Fosu said. “Despite our efforts, we have not gotten as much of a response institutionally as we would want, but this is something that we’re still working on.”

Qian said that, in addition to those projects, Student Assembly was able to expand the GreenPrint quota to sixty dollars per student for printing.

Johnston said that overall she has been pleased with Student Assembly’s relationship with the administration.

“I think that this year’s administration has been especially receptive to our input,” Johnston said. “And that’s not always been the case. I think we’ve seen progress there. But I think that they know that our job is first and foremost to advocate for students. And so far, we found that we’re able to maintain

mutual respect afterwards.”

Qian said that one of her biggest hopes moving forward is to see the telehealth prog ram become institutionalized at the College level.

According to a Feb. 6 newsletter sent by Student Assembly’s, the mental health committee is “pushing” for a telehealth option for all Dartmouth students.

Johnston said that she was hopeful to see an expansion in student involvement with the Board of Trustees beyond the current Student Liaison Committee.

“Ultimately, I would love to see a student representative on the Board of Trustees,” Johnston said. “For example, for something like the COVID-19 policy task force, whatever the equivalent is in the future, I would love for a student to be in those conversations and have a say in that process. Whatever is going on

behind closed doors we’d love to have a student representative there.”

Fosu voiced his hope that Student Assembly becomes a more recognized entity with the administration during the rest of his years at Dartmouth.

“I’ve seen this assembly as probably the most viable vehicle for effecting change at the institutional level,” Fosu said. “And that’s not to say that Student Assembly doesn’t have its flaws, but it’s more so to say that if we continue on the path we’re on, I think the administration will see us not just as advisors, or just as sounding blocks for various policies, but they will continue to actively consult us for advice before moving forward.”

Special issue editor Kami Arabian, who also serves as treasurer of Student Assembly, was not involved in the production of this article.

Q&A with provost Dave Kotz ’86 and executive vice president Rick Mills

COURTESY OF ROBERT GILL

By Allison Wachen The Dartmouth Staff

Since early September of 2021, then-interim provost Dave Kotz ’86 and executive vice president Rick Mills have been in charge of Dartmouth’s COVID-19 policy and response budget in addition to their respective College administration roles. Often signing campus-wide emails with “Rick and Dave,” the pair have communicated major updates throughout the past two terms. On Jan. 31, Kotz was officially named provost by College President Phil Hanlon. A computer science professor, he previously served as the interim Provost during the 2017-2018 academic year and the associate dean for the faculty of arts and sciences. Mills has been the EVP since 2013.

Prior to working at Dartmouth, he served as the executive dean for administration at Harvard Medical School.

Kotz and Mills spoke with The Dartmouth about a variety of College issues, including housing, the continuing COVID-19 response, the Lyme Road housing project, the College’s decision to appoint Kotz as provost and how Hanlon’s impending retirement in June 2023 will affect the College administration for the next year.

Can you explain your approach to handling COVID-19 this winter term? How has your handling of COVID-19 this term differed from your approach during fall term?

RM: Could you give engineering professor Eugene Korsunskiy a shout-out? Because we approached this with the [ENGS 12, “Design Thinking”] “How might we” approach.

When we were meeting over the break, it was pretty clear that the omicron variant

was coming and was more transmissible.

We really decided that it was worth paying attention to the principle that we’d articulated in the fall, which was prioritizing in-person education while minimizing the chances of serious illness or disease. We knew that we were likely to see a pretty significant uptick as January wore on, but we thought it was worth doing that.

DK: A large part of our conversation toward the end of December was the anticipation that the omicron wave was going to roll over Hanover, almost regardless of what we chose to do. Omicron spreads so quickly that even with our surveillance testing, and even with isolation, we were not going to be able to prevent it from spreading on campus. The decision-making process kind of leaned more toward how do we manage this as best we can, rather than how can we stop it. Because we can’t stop it.

How has the COVID-19 case count compared to your expectations? Do you think the COVID-19 cases will continue to fluctuate in the upcoming weeks?

DK: I think it actually happened more or less the way I imagined. It was a big peak at the beginning. If you look at the numbers over the course of January, and now into February, they’re coming rapidly down. The numbers will always fluctuate.

But, right now, we’re seeing a pretty steady downward trend, and I think we’ll see that right through the end of the term. That’s my best guess.

Reflecting on the term so far, what has gone better than expected and what has not gone as expected? What would you like to see improved for the spring?

DK: I don’t know if I would say things

went better than expected. But, I’ve been really impressed and pleased by the way the faculty and the students have persisted in trying to make this work — it’s really hard. I recognize that it’s a lot of extra work for the faculty and stress for the students to maintain this in-person learning experience despite the rolling set of students who are unable to come to class. Overall, we’ve had very good compliance this term with vaccination requirement testing, with masking, better than in the fall.

RM: I think, mask-wearing, as hard as it is, is something we struggle with at Dartmouth.

We certainly hear from students about not liking wearing masks and how restrictive it feels. When we talk to our peers, nobody else reports the degree of non-mask-wearing that we seem to have on our campus. That’s something that I wish could go better.

When you walk through the library, you see a lot of masks off. It’s not everybody; I’m sure from the reports that it’s a standout case. I think it feels to some of our staff and faculty like people don’t care. I don’t think that’s what the students mean or the message they’re trying to send. But, at a time when it’s hard to keep people working and motivated, it’s not great.

What can we expect for spring term?

RM: This is where Dave says I denied his budget request for a crystal ball.

DK: Hey, I keep trying. Well, we’re actively working on our plans for spring term arrival.

We don’t have anything to announce right now because we haven’t made our final decisions. We may make changes, either at the beginning of spring term or perhaps a couple of weeks in, depending on how things go. I’m hopeful — the case counts are declining fast both here and in the region and in the nation. I’m hopeful we’ll be able to relax some things in the spring, but don’t

know what that will be or when. Isolating in place will continue through the spring term.

RM: Something that we’ve outright discussed in some of our Community Conversations is that it’s fairly clear with omicron that the surveillance testing that was effective in the summer and fall is much less effective now. We will not get rid of testing, but do we move in a direction where surveillance testing is elective and up to the individual? Is that something that we would get to ultimately for asymptomatic people?

DK: Opt-in voluntary testing and symptomatic testing would be the place we would end up. At some point, we may shift like we did last summer to voluntary masking. When that will be appropriate, I’m not quite sure.

and still take a course back at Dartmouth.

This is looking years ahead.

I’m also interested in looking more globally, how can Dartmouth expand its global footprint? I mean that in several different ways: How can we bring more of the globe to Dartmouth in terms of bringing international students and scholars to Dartmouth? How can we better send Dartmouth people to the world and so forth through study abroad programs, research trips, or December term activities?

Can you explain the process of how Dartmouth picks locations to consider for housing and what factors are being prioritized with picking housing locations?

RM: I think the short answer is not a bit.

We are running as we always have.

DK: He’s still president for another 17 months. The other business will be the search committee working on the side to select the next President; that person will be announced next winter, I suppose. I don’t know the exact timeline.

RM: We obviously factor in costs, zoning, and what sort of what units would fit where.

If we were building a true new residence hall for core undergraduate use, Lyme Road would probably not be the location that we would pick first. But that’s a longer conversation, which I’d be glad to have with you.

When we’re thinking about flexible housing options that would allow a different kind of living situation that looks more like apartment-style and independent living, could be built relatively quickly so we can start to get renovations underway and be repurposed at the end of renovations for graduate student or other apartment type housing, that’s how Lyme Road looked like a very viable choice.

Congratulations, Provost Kotz, on your appointment. What are your immediate priorities and goals for the position?

DK: There’s a lot that the Provost is involved in, including COVID-19, but we’ve talked a lot about COVID-19.

I have an opportunity to take a little bit of a longer viewpoint. How can we take advantage of what we’ve learned during the pandemic? There are opportunities for the positive use of these online technology tools in post-pandemic Dartmouth. I’ve often noticed that a lot of computer science students don’t want to or feel that they can’t fit in a foreign study program in some other field because they are busy taking their computer science courses: they need to take them at a certain time or in a certain sequence. If they could go and do two courses in some foreign study program and remote learn one critical major course back on campus or take the class fully virtual, then that might enable them to do those opportunities. Or they could go to an internship in California

PresidentHanlonrecentlyannounced that he will be stepping down from his position in June of 2023. How do you see this affecting the administration’s operations over the next year?

What is the best way for students to voice their concerns with the administration? How does the administration learn about student concerns and priorities?

DK: First of all, Rick and I meet regularly with a group of student leaders called the Student Liaison Group set up by the Board of Trustees. It has the Student Assembly president and vice president and their equivalents for the Graduate Student Council, the Tuck Student Council, etc.

We meet with them every few weeks to just talk about all kinds of issues; last time, we discussed parking and COVID-19.

It’s important to recognize that there are different parts of the administration: we’re not all one big lump. If you’re not sure where to start, I would work with Student Affairs to ask for them to help you or a group figure out whom in the administration should be contacted.

Students have enjoyed your concise and informative emails this term.

What made you decide to sign off your emails “Rick and Dave”?

DK: I say in all my emails, “dave,” actually lowercase. So maybe that’s where it came from? I don’t know.

RM: Working at Dartmouth is a blast, and students are the best part. I really like working with Dave. I hope he tolerates working with me.

DK: We’re a good team. We may sign the emails, but it’s really important to note that there are several dozen other people working incredibly hard to help write those messages and make it all happen. They deserve a lot of credit.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 2022

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THE DARTMOUTH WINTER CARNIVAL ISSUE

Looking back at the Hood, a center of controversy B y Gianna Totani The Dartmouth Staff

In 2016, the Hood Museum of Art broke ground on a $50 million renovation, an expansion of the College’s Art District that was part of President Hanlon’s Call to Lead Campaign. According to the New York Times, the renovations removed the original museum’s features designed by postmodern architect Charles Moore, and as a result attracted much controversy — critics argued at the time that the new designs mistreated the meticulously planned and deeply meaningful original architecture. The College and museum staff, however, argued that the renovations were necessary and respectful to Moore.

Since the Hood’s reopening in Jan. 2019, they posit, the renovations have allowed the Hood to expand its ability to meet the museum’s mission of being a dynamic teaching museum.

The original Hood Museum, a 40,000-square-foot postmodern building, was constructed of Flemish bond brick with a gray brick cornice and a copper roof. Its purpose was to house the thousands of pieces Dartmouth had collected since the 1770s under one roof. Opened in 1985, Moore’s museum featured ten galleries, a study-storage facility, administrative spaces and an auditorium capable of seating around 200 people. The Hood was intended for a much smaller collection, staff and educational program than now exist. The building also had some structural issues; it was built without a vapor barrier, allowing for mold, mildew, rot and rust to form below the crumbling roof.

Architects Tod Williams and Billie Tsien, inter nationally acclaimed for their modernist and meditative style, were chosen by a committee to make renovations and expansions to Moore’s museum. Williams and Tsien intended to create — from an architectural standpoint — “a quiet space,” according to the Hood website.

Through the use of minimal color and simple forms, the museum acts as a functional space where the artwork is the first and foremost feature visitors notice and engage with.

A l t h o u g h t h e a d va n c e m e n t s made by Williams and Tsien have allowed the Hood Museum of Art to fulfill its purpose as a teaching museum, critics charged that the new design completely destroys

Moore’s conception. According to Metropolis, an architecture magazine, the renovations have become popular with the architectural press because of the controversy they sparked.

Williams and Tsien’s renovation of the Hood is quite ironic — the Museum of Modern Art’s Folk Art Museum, designed by the pair, was demolished in 2014 to make room for new galleries. Just as some protested the renovations, Williams and Tsien protested the demolition of the Folk Art Museum. For some, it was paradoxical that the same architects would destroy a “gemlike” work by another wellrespected architect, Charles Moore.

E.J. Johnson, author of “Charles Moore: Buildings and Projects 19491986,” told The New York Times in 2016 that what Tsien and Williams did to Moore’s building was “insensitive.”

“It’s almost as if they were getting revenge for what MoMa did to their Folk Art Museum,” Johnson said.

Yet more irony arises; Tsien was one of Moore’s students at the University of California, Los Angeles. Tsien said in 2016 she believes the new design is respectful.

“We’ve moved some things, we’ve added some things and we’ve restored a lot of things,” Tsien said. “We’re doing a lot to take care of his legacy.

It’s not keeping it exactly the same, but it’s keeping it alive.”

At the time of the controversy, Kevin Keim, director of the Charles Moore Foundation in Austin, TX, said that he was outraged by the renovations.

“Not only is the entire north end of the original building being destroyed, but the entire conception of Moore’s building is being fundamentally wrecked,” Keim said in 2016. “Charles Moore deserves far better than this aggressive, ill-designed, shallowly considered project.”

Hood Museum director Stomberg said that although he “respects” critic’s opinions, he believes most of them have never even seen the museum in person.

“There’s nothing I can ever say to a true lover of Charles Moore’s architecture that’s going to make them feel comfortable with this building,” Stomberg said. “One of [the critics] said to me, ‘You can’t touch a single hair on its head,’ but the [new] building really works.”

Former deputy director at the Hood Juliette Bianco ’94 was able to experience Moore’s Hood as both a student and employee of 25 years.

KATE HERRINGTON/THE DARTMOUTH

The Hood Museum of Art underwent controversial renovations beginning in 2016.

Bianco, now the director of the Weatherspoon Art Museum at UNC Greensboro, believes that Moore did not anticipate the conversations students could have when they visited the museum and witnessed the juxtaposition of objects from different cultures and time periods.

“The [original] Hood was built as a house to ensure the safety of all these objects,” Bianco said. “Over the course of the next 30 years, through practice, we learned that in fact, these objects had a unique and powerful role to play in the education of the students at Dartmouth.”

Stomberg believes that Moore intended to create a space that was as much about architectural experience as it was about art.

“There was a lot of architecture here,” Stomberg said. “For example, you couldn’t find the front door, so you had to work for it, and you had to enter through a gateway and then go around and walk up a walkway.”

Moore’s architectural antics did not end at the inconspicuous front door.

Once you figured out how to get into the museum, there were stairways and dead-end halls around every corner, similar to a labyrinth.

“Everywhere you turned, you were really aware of the architecture,” Stomberg said. “And I think that must have been what [Moore] intended: for the architecture to be a participant in the aesthetic experience of the visit in a loud way.”

A c c ordin g to Stom berg, th e committee gave Williams and Tsien four key tasks to achieve in the renovations. The first was to make the Hood visible from the Green.

Second, Moore’s courtyard proved to be inconvenient during the harsh New Hampshire winters, so the committee wanted the renovated Hood to have an indoor social space. Third, the Hood wanted more galleries to display the 65,000 pieces they now own. The committee also wanted to expand the teaching space from the original combined study-storage facility and add more staff offices, as Moore’s museum was designed for a staff of only ten.

As a result, the Hood expansion required an entrance that students can easily locate from the Green. Visitors enter through an indoor atrium where special events and day-to-day student activities can take place. The Hood also gained five new galleries, allowing for a more diverse set of collections, such as Aboriginal Australian art, Native American art and signature modern works by artists such as Ed Ruscha, Mark Rothko and Lorna Simpson.

Lastly, the Hood’s curricular access for faculty and students from all four schools and 40 departments and interdisciplinary programs was tripled.

With the addition of the Bernstein Center for Object Study, the Hood now features an object study center with three technology-enhanced objectstudy rooms inside.

Hood academic programming curator Amelia Kahl ’01 said she hopes students know the Bernstein Center is not just for art majors. Kahl noted that across multiple disciplines, the Hood Museum is a valuable source for students.

“I just hope, even though the Bernstein Center for Object Study isn’t as visible as the galleries, students can understand that we’re there and will take advantage of us as a resource,” Kahl said.

L aw s o n G re e n e ’ 2 5 s a i d h e appreciated the fact that the Hood incorporates art into Dartmouth’s liberal arts curriculum, which is sometimes forgotten.

“I think that sometimes in the liberal arts model, we sometimes forget about the arts,” Greene said. “I think that having the Hood here on campus and available to students regularly, is a way to keep the arts present in our lives.

It’s nice to have a museum on campus that you can go to with rotating exhibits and especially student involvement.”

Isla Kilby ’25 enjoys the connection the Hood Museum creates between Dartmouth and the Upper Valley.

“I think what’s really cool about the Hood is that it has all this amazing art, and it really is something that both Dartmouth students and people from the Upper Valley can be a part of,” Kilby said. “Elementary and middle schools come to the Hood to learn, and it’s just a really cool way to connect Dartmouth to our community.”

More to come: examining the future of sustainable architecture at Dartmouth

By Anne Rhee

The Dartmouth Staff

After construction began in 2019, the long-awaited Arthur L. Irving Institute for Energy and Society and the Center for Engineering and Computer Science are nearing the end of completion, with the CECS being slated to open for classes this upcoming spring. Both buildings are collaborative long-term projects integrating different academic disciplines on campus and constructed with goals of sustainability and energy efficiency.

Elaine Hoffman and Arjun Mande, from architecture firm Goodly Clancy, headed the construction of the Irving Institute. The project is Goody Clancy’s third collaboration with Dartmouth; the first two — the Tuck School of Business and Tuck Living and Learning Complex — date back to 2002.

Hoffman and Mande describe their past Dartmouth projects as paving the way for sustainable architecture on college campuses throughout the country.

“When we did the Living and Learning building, we had triple-glazing on the building in a very tight exterior envelope, which was new to the industry at the time,” Mande said. “Not everybody was doing it.

So, Dartmouth was and is definitely way ahead than everyone else. The goal here was not only to make the Irving Institute as sustainable as possible from an energy perspective, but also to upgrade Murdough Hall, which [the Institute] is connected to through the atrium.”

After being selected by the College to design the Irving Institute in a design competition, Hoffman, heading the sustainability team, and Mande, heading the design team, began planning. The

effort, as a result, was a collaborative one, in which the two built off of each other to ensure that the project would be able to strike a balance between design and sustainability.

Hoffman noted the importance and consideration that sustainability is given in design proposals in recent years.

“In the time that I’ve been practicing, [sustainability] has really been at the forefront of how people are trying to design,” said Hoffman. “In addition to thinking about operational energy, we’re pairing that with thinking more holistically about the embodied energy, the embodied carbon of the materials that are going into the building.”

Mande agreed, adding that the dynamic between designers and sustainability leaders has evolved to a point where designers and sustainability leaders work collaboratively.

“There is an inherent tension between what the building should look [like] and what it should do versus the energy goals,” Mande said. “That tension is good and important because then a person like Elaine, who is the sustainability leader on a project, and me, who is the designer of the project, are basically pushing each other. …and it’s an equal tussle. Earlier it was the designers who were pushing the sustainability leaders around and winning, but I think that tension is helping us make buildings that are more responsible to what they should be for where we are today, as a planet.”

Both Hoffman and Mande pointed out different examples of features in the building that reflect this, such as the doubleskinned glass facade at the center of the building, which is also a part of the natural ventilation system of the building. Others

included wood flooring — to cut back on the carbon footprint of the building’s flooring materials — and the concrete mix, which minimized the use of new, non-recycled cement as much as possible.

While sustainability has always been viewed as a holistic goal in projects, energy reduction, in particular, was a specific goal that guided the project, according to Hoffman and Mande. The project had an annual target EUI — or energy usage intensity — of 20 KBTU. One feature that was especially innovative to the architects was the automated natural ventilation system, which adjusts the building’s ventilation system to take best advantage of outside environmental conditions.

Another key feature of the building is radiant heating, which provides heat through metal-paneled ceilings and a radiant floor that supplies the atrium.

Hoffman noted that it was “really nice” to design a building that has radiant heating for 100% of its occupied spaces.

Like the Irving Institute, the CECS was also constructed with the goal of energy reduction in mind. According to head architect Samir Srouji, the CECS is projected to have an EUI of 79 KBTU/ square foot — an impressive feat, given that most comparable buildings have an EUI of 150-200 KBTU/square foot, he said.

Srouji noted that the current transition to campus-wide sustainable architecture mirrors the one happening in the architecture industry — and in turn the construction industry and regulations.

“Architecture is leading [in sustainability] because buildings are big users of energy and resources,” Srouji said. “It took a while for the construction industry to follow…

I remember when talks of sustainability

started and it was a premium like ‘How much more money do I have to pay for this to make it a great building for the environment.’ Nobody talks [like] that anymore.”

A concern that Srouji and Matt Ellsworth, the other head architect of the CECS, emphasized was the importance of increasing natural light to improve the wellbeing of occupants. Ellsworth noted the atrium has coffers that filter in daylight.

According to Sroji, designing a building that simultaneously incorporates energy reduction and the occupants’ well-being are the project’s two main achievements.

“The well-being part is really connecting people to daylight [and] to views, having the building not have any toxic chemicals [through the] choice of materials,” said Srouji. “[We’re] encouraging people to just walk instead of finding the elevator.

We’re encouraging movement and walking, health and intermingling. That’s the thinking behind these two things; there’s a lot more, obviously, but those two [energy reduction and well-being] are key.”

In addition to possible LEED platinum certification, solar panels and storage spaces for bicycles, The architects collaborated with van Zelm Engineers to feature an advanced natural ventilation system in the CECS that makes adjustments to the air contained in the building in the case of smoke or a fire.

During the designing process, the CECS’ purpose — an additional building meant for Thayer — was expanded to house the computer science department, the Magnuson Center for Entrepreneurship and Electron Microscope Facility. As a result, Srouji and Ellsworth modified their designs to highlight the various wings of the building, which Srouji referred to as

“solid cores, soft edges.”

“One wing is more computer science, and another is more Thayer, more engineering,” Srouji said. But since the building is shaped like a diamond with the atrium in the middle, things slip from one to the other, and of course, the heart — the atrium — is shared not just for those departments but as a campus social hub.

There’s nothing else like it [the atrium] on campus. It’ll be a major attraction, we hope.”

Ellsworth noted that the CECS was designed in a way that aesthetically nodded to older buildings on campus.

“The brick is the same brick that’s been used on the Thayer campus for a while now,” said Ellsworth. “It’s difficult as an architect because you want to design fresh, modern ways of thinking but in this case, there is a traditional aspect to Dartmouth that you want to maintain. We tried to use that palette with a modern twist while still respecting some of the traditional detailing on campus: the white windows, the brick coursing, the use of copper, detailing, granite as well.”

Dartmouth director of project management services Patrick O’Hern noted that at Dartmouth, the next step to a sustainable campus is changing its energy infrastructure. He noted that both Irving and CECS will be equipped with a new hot water heating system that will gradually be used across campus.

“The CECS and Irving are the first two buildings to be connected to a new hot water heating service, which is generated not that far from the McLaughlin cluster,” O’Hern said. “These two buildings are at the leading edge for where Dartmouth is going in terms of their energy use on campus.”

THE DARTMOUTH WINTER CARNIVAL ISSUE

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FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 2022

THE DARTMOUTH EDITORIAL BOARD

CONTRIBUTING COLUMNIST JEREMY GART ’25

Verbum Ultimum: In Solidarity

Control the Criticism

The College must honor its commitment to a free, fair and prompt election for student workers.

On Jan. 28, the College rejected a request by the Student Worker Collective at Dartmouth to voluntarily recognize it as a union for student dining workers. As an employer, the College was within its rights to do so — but it was the wrong call.

In a letter addressed to SWCD leadership, College President Phil Hanlon asserted that, in order to determine whether the union is a legitimate “bargaining unit,” the College must pursue an election sanctioned by the National Labor Relations Board. Yet the SWCD has already demonstrated the popularity of their proposal — according to their official Twitter account, “over 80% of [Dartmouth Dining Services] student workers” are in favor of the union. Assuming this figure is accurate — and we have no reason to believe it is not — the SWCD has already well exceeded the majority needed for certification, and a simple card check agreement — in which a third party would verify that the requisite majority of student dining workers had signed onto the union — should have been sufficient. The College’s refusal will only needlessly and painfully prolong the unionization process.

With that said, it is the road the College has taken. Campus will now see an election moderated by the NLRB with terms negotiated by both the College and the SWCD. Looking ahead, the College must commit to ensuring that this election is — in both legal and ethical terms — free, fair and prompt.

As it considers its next steps, we also call on the College to refrain from using its vast resources to engage in the kinds of “union-busting” tactics that have become all too common in this country.

During a 2018 unionization effort at Amazon, for example, employees at one fulfillment center in Bessemer, Alabama were treated to a series of videos aimed to scare them away from unionizing.

These videos, deceptively marketed to workers as “union training,” were satirically likened to a dog-training course taught by Cruella de Vil by one late night host. When its workers made their own attempt to unionize, Delta Air Lines led a similar campaign, putting up posters claiming that “union dues cost around $700 a year” and encouraging workers to spend that money on video games and alcohol. Despite this sort of propaganda, unions can actually offer tremendous benefits for workers, including higher wages and better conditions. Why else would companies fight so hard to prevent them?

The College must also ensure that the SWCD leaders who sit opposite them at the negotiating table — and any students who voice an opinion about unionization — are not punished, sanctioned, intimidated or coerced in any sense.

Votes should remain completely anonymous and the College should commit ahead of time to negotiating with the union, if it wins the vote,

in good faith. Most importantly, workers must feel that their vote will not harm their future prospects of employment by the College. Any form of coercion would, in addition to being illegal, irredeemably compromise the fairness of the proposed election.

A perfect example of how the College should not act comes from one of our Ivy League peers, Columbia University. When its graduate student union entered a prolonged series of negotiations for better pay and arbitration benefits, officials responded with strike-breaking tactics and threatened to cut students’ pay and hire temporary replacements. Columbia’s administration cruelly argued that the workers in question were ineligible for union protection and, thus, could be legally retaliated against.

Notably, any union-busting efforts would directly affect first-generation, low-income students, who disproportionately staff the higher-paid, labor-intensive dining jobs on campus. One worker described Novack Cafe — one of a few Dartmouth Dining locations almost entirely operated by students — as holding “a unique significance to FGLI students above everyone else.” More generally, however, student workers of all backgrounds have endured enough hardship already and deserve to have their efforts rewarded posthaste. The College should do its part to streamline this process; it has already delayed it once by insisting on NLRB involvement. An election should be held as soon as possible, and no later than spring term.

SWCD’s leaders deserve commendation for their accomplishments so far. They undertook the difficult task of negotiating with the College, which essentially unilaterally controls student labor at and around Dartmouth. Despite facing a leviathan, the SWCD has already temporarily won 50% hazard pay for Dartmouth Dining workers and full sick pay for all student workers — not just dining workers — who have to isolate or quarantine due to COVID-19. However, attaining recognition will enable the SWCD to lock these gains in and fight for even better wages and conditions. The other union on campus, the Local 560 Branch of the SEIU, has long had a positive relationship with the College — its president told The Dartmouth in a Feb. 2021 interview that the union had no major issues with the College during the pandemic. We expect that the SWCD would be able to build a similarly constructive relationship with the College.

Student workers, whose labor is essential to this campus’s day-to-day operations, deserve our full support as they strive to make their voices heard. In solidarity with their efforts, we call on Dartmouth not to stand in the way of that goal.

The editorial board consists of opinion staff columnists, the opinion editors, the executive editors and the editor-in-chief.

MARLEIGH PETERS ’24: WINTER ON-NIGHT OUTFITS

The pandemic has served as a harsh reminder that being completely uncontroversial is an impossible feat. It’s time we readjust our standards.

I despise peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Honestly, I just think they’re terrible. I don’t like the flavor combination, I hate the slimy texture… I just don’t want anything to do with them. As I’ve progressed through the years, this truth has come out a number of times. And while a precious few share this opinion with me, the vast majority of my friends and family instantly recoil when I inform them. For some reason, people react to this news like they just found out I’m the Zodiac Killer, in spite of the fact that I’m literally just sharing my distaste for two spreads put together.

And yet, this visceral, over-the-top reaction extends far beyond the world of PB&Js. Pineapple on pizza, the endless (and pointless) disagreement on whether a hot dog is a sandwich, and so many more debates rage constantly around topics that just don’t hold any weight.

As far as controversial opinions go, my hate for PB&Js is pretty tame. But in today’s world, every small preference we indicate becomes a statement; a moral bellwether for our inner beliefs. Something as simple (brave?) as declaring pizza to be an open-faced grilled cheese creates shockwaves of disturbance. So, when people subliminally show support for touchier subjects, especially political and ethical issues, the response can be disproportionately deafening.

At the moment, the most prevalent display of this effect is COVID-19 and its repeated waves of cultural impact. The pandemic has only wrenched the already-fragmented factions present in our country even further apart, and the actions of every individual have been put under intense scrutiny because of it.

On one side, people who wear masks and behave carefully regarding the pandemic are considered unscientific worrywarts without any hope or desire to return to pre-pandemic life. On the other, any individual who neglects to wear their mask correctly or socially distance properly is a biohazard to society who must be contained immediately. As much as I’d like to think that a middle ground is slowly pushing its way into existence between these camps, we’re still as separated as ever.

The Dartmouth campus is experiencing this as intensely as anywhere else. I’ve witnessed countless encounters — some where students are mocked for their mask wearing, and some where students are berated for their lack of it. People are angry, and only getting angrier.

For better or worse, we’re now equipped with an immense arsenal of facts at a moment’s notice. The issue is, these facts are usually tailored to our own beliefs, even before we read them. People looking for evidence of COVID-19’s receding threat to humanity will find it as readily as people searching for statistics of its damage, and the harder we look, the more the internet adapts itself to provide us exactly what we want to hear in a classic case of confirmation bias. Facts are no longer just facts — they’re looping black-holes of anger and self-righteousness.

In fact, this phenomenon isn’t new, and it sure isn’t unique to the pandemic. Long before the days of panic-buying toilet paper and disturbing Nicki Minaj anti-vax tweets, people have been volleying criticism toward others at a moment’s notice. Of course, celebrities usually end up bearing the brunt of these jeers. I may not be the biggest Taylor Swift fan (although I will dance like a maniac to Blank Space), yet I’ve still watched the American public turn against her for virtually every finger she lifts. Nobody is safe from hate comments — be it Donald Trump Jr. or

Adele, people will look for any excuse to take someone famous down.

Conversely, the same could be said of unconditional support for celebrities. Fans are all-too-often willing to look the other way when their favorite athlete or singer fails to live up to even a semi-decent moral standard.

Kyrie Irving has somehow turned his unvaccinated status into an outpouring of support, and Kanye West’s stomach-churning comments on slavery were ignored in favor of spiky-faced months-late album drops. Just as people rush to criticize the quizzical actions of some celebrities, they rush to defend the genuinely problematic statements and activities of others.

This problem also inevitably spills into politics.

Democrats and Republicans are historically far apart on every issue in the book, and their respective affiliations have split communities across the country down the middle. Each side is so convicted in their own opinions that they fail to see any logic in their counterparts. The result, unsurprisingly, is a deeply hate-fueled political scene. Instead of interesting, productive political debates, the only interaction I’ve witnessed between Democrats and Republicans are raw, accusatory remarks made purely out of anger.

Of course, politicians are probably all guilty of something, but that’s an entirely other article (probably several). Yet, this extends beyond those on Capitol Hill. By association, someone’s political affiliation now indicates that they support every single issue that party stands for. And as a result, this hatred has infiltrated everything from water cooler conversations to flirtatious encounters gone horribly wrong (no, I don’t speak from personal experience. At least not yet).

So, what to do? This is an age-old problem that seeps into every aspect of our lives, and shows no sign of losing momentum in any discipline. How do we even begin to solve something that’s woven itself so completely, so inseparably into our society?

Here’s what I’d suggest: Get into an argument. The next time you see something that really ticks you off, instead of flying to Twitter or loudly complaining in ’53 Commons, go up to that person and ask, civilly, to chat about it. Badmouthing people through a screen or behind their back is alarmingly easy — but doing it to someone’s face is much, much harder. Avoiding “the strawman” is key here: Instead of addressing a dummy argument constructed specifically to be torn down, dialogue must occur between two fully-fleshed schools of thought, each with their own merit. As long as this is done in a non confrontational manner, a potential silent spat of hatred could be potentially metamorphosed into a genuinely productive conversation that both sides can take away from.

Here’s what scares me the most: I’ve begun hearing a new line of thinking from critics across all issues as various views get pulled further and further apart.

Instead of offering criticism, people are stating that any engagement at all with their counterparts simply “isn’t worth it.” The alternative, of course, is retreating even further into recursive echo chambers of support.

If we remain on this trajectory, withdrawing ourselves from anybody with opinions that differ at all from our own, we will find ourselves in a fundamentally shattered civilization. And while I don’t believe we’re over the precipice yet, if we don’t start readjusting the way we criticize, our society may be past saving.

So please, give me an itemized list of exactly why I’m wrong for despising peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

I’m still not gonna eat one.

THE DARTMOUTH PUZZLE STAFF: CARNIVAL CROSSED

THE CROSSWORD CONSTRUCTORS FOR THIS PUZZLE WERE NINA SLOAN, THOMAS CLARK, ELLA GATES, INDIA JONES, KIRA PARRISH-PENNY AND ALISYA REZA.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 2022

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THE DARTMOUTH WINTER CARNIVAL ISSUE

STAFF COLUMNIST KATHERINE ARRINGTON ’24

STAFF COLUMNIST MAXWELL TESZLER ’23

Vessels of Productivity

Clocking Out(side)

Dartmouth has a culture of toxic productivity — it is time we acknowledge it.

“You need to work. Do something productive.

Strive to do something, be something, labor and toil until you have substantiated your worth. Prove that you are capable, that you are intelligent, that you are thoughtful and original and you deserve to be here, at this school, at this institution, in this world.”

This is my inner monologue. I do not necessarily verbalize these thoughts every day, conceptualize them so tangibly, but they are, nonetheless, there as an undercurrent running beneath my everyday concerns.

In a way, these ideas are what got me to Dartmouth: I always believed that if I worked hard enough, my life would, in some obscure way, mean something.

And so, that is just what I did. When I was a child, I read every book I could get my hands on, peppered the adults around me with questions, and spent hours researching esoteric topics. At first, it was really about wanting to know everything I could about the world, to understand every phenomenon I experienced. But at some point, my thirst for knowledge turned into a need to be productive — I no longer wanted to learn for the sake of learning, but to excel at it. I spent my lunch periods studying for exams, took extra classes and stayed up until three in the morning working on school projects, just to wake up three and a half hours later to go to school. Of course, that’s not to say my life was academics and nothing else, but it was certainly my priority to an unhealthy extent — at one point, I worked myself so much that I fell asleep with my head on a textbook every night for a full week straight.

Unfortunately, however, every time I put productivity above my own wellbeing, I was rewarded. I got into Dartmouth, after all.

But I do not think this complicated relationship with productivity is unique to me. At Dartmouth, I regularly hear stories from students who work sixteen hours per day, who stay up into ungodly hours of the night to finish papers or projects, who pack their days with so many things that they end up not having a break in their schedule until long after the sun has gone down. And on the rare occasion that students go a day without working, they will usually share that they feel awful about it.

But for all of the work students here do, myself included, it almost never seems to be about actually learning. I regularly hear “I am stressed about this grade” or “I need to do well on this if I want a good career in the future,” never “I am just very interested in this topic” or “I am really passionate about this subject.”

Yet, should we really expect anything different?

Society teaches us from a young age that our value comes from how much we work and the quality of what we accomplish. We are taught to constantly market ourselves, to make ourselves appealing to employers, to attain certain GPAs and achieve degrees, to be the best and the brightest, to be contributing members of society, to “make a mark on the world.”

Thus far, I have drawn mostly from personal experiences, but there is a whole host of studies that confirm this trend. For instance, Psychology Today published the findings of Columbia University Professor

Suniya Luthar and her colleagues: Depression, anxiety and substance abuse affect students of high-achieving schools, with more intense work cultures, significantly more than their peers at lower-achieving schools.

Furthermore, these negative impacts on mental health and alcohol and drug use can last far into adulthood, far after students leave such schools. Finally, this pressure seems to come from the entire culture of the schools: parents, teachers, and even the students themselves.

Other studies have found that not only does “hustle culture” have significant negative effects on mental health, but it can actually harm physical health as well.

Participants who worked upwards of 50 hours a week were shown to be at an elevated risk for elevated blood pressure and other heart problems, as well as a host of cardiovascular and cerebrovascular issues.

I, for one, am exhausted from always feeling as though I must justify my value at Dartmouth by being “productive.” I am tired of losing sleep to finish papers and of stressing over exams. I do not want to keep worrying about finding the time to do enough classwork, extracurriculars and creative projects to feel as though I have made my time here worthwhile, and to do all of that well enough to prove that I belong.

Ironically, however, I do not think I will change my habits. Of course, I want to put my own wellbeing first, but I also feel that I cannot afford to let my performance here drop. I wish I could go back to that person I was when I was younger, who cared deeply about learning, who loved creating just for the joy it brought. But Dartmouth and other institutions, both academic and otherwise, have turned me into someone who, even recognizing the detriments of toxic productivity, cannot seem to escape it.

Toxic productivity is a problem. And it is one not with individuals, but with institutions. Yet, if you look up how to fix this issue, you will find a multitude of articles telling you to “set healthy boundaries” and “prioritize relaxation.” Individual changes cannot, however, fix a societal issue. What we need is a culture shift, and for institutions such as Dartmouth to lead that shift. Perhaps that will look like expanding the NRO system and altering our grading system, or inserting more mental health days into the calendar, or capping homework allotment and doing away with final exams, or more likely, some combination of these and other factors. Personally, I do not know how to fix the culture that Dartmouth has helped create; what I do know, however, is that we have a problem. What I want is for us to recognize it.

Our culture has created this harmful relationship between individuals and their work, where people will work themselves to pure mental and physical exhaustion. If this school really cares about its students, and if this society really cares about the people within it, then there must be change. I want to live in a world that recognizes that there is value outside of work, and that encourages people to learn, and to create, in healthy ways. That world will not exist, however, unless institutions choose to alter the environments they are creating, to stop viewing humans as mere vessels of productivity.

Dartmouth should make its support of casual outdoor activities permanent and more robust.

Ice skating on the Green and Occom Pond, fire pits on Massachusetts Row, free Nordic skiing at the golf course — though a bit later than last winter, Dartmouth has offered a cornucopia of ways to be outside this term. I can’t help but notice, however, all the other support that could have been offered. Sure, the fire pits are nice — but in my experience, they hardly generate any warmth, nor do they offer shelter from the wind. And despite the good intentions of wanting to limit COVID-19, this infusion of outdoor support only during the pandemic makes it seem that all this support may, like the snow banks on every corner, melt away as soon as the virus is a lesser threat.

What we should have instead is a permanent and robust College effort to support casual ways to be outside in all seasons. Sure, the Dartmouth Outing Club (in which I am an active member) already offers a variety of activities, such as hiking, climbing and paddling. But while these activities are rewarding, I find we often lack the easiest way to be outdoors: just living our normal lives — talking, eating, studying and exercising — outside.

Last winter, the College marketed a “winter wonderland” of outdoor activities after fall term was criticized for its stringent COVID-19 regulations and lack of ways for students to socialize. We saw the appearance of the ice skating rink on the Green and free passes for cross-country skiing. The outdoor fire pits dotted campus — and were often the best way to eat a meal with friends, given the awkward nature of social distancing inside Foco. Throughout the rest of the year, tents were put up across campus and, in addition to becoming social spaces, also saw some novel use in the summer as outdoor classrooms.

Given the mental and physical health benefits of time spent outdoors, these amenities should not be limited to the pandemic; they should be around-the-clock offerings by the College. It may seem obvious to some, but time spent outside — regardless of physical activity done — has a tremendous positive impact. Spending more time outside can lower blood pressure, reduce anxiety, increase life satisfaction, enhance sleep, and improve academic performance. There’s even some evidence to suggest that natural environments help patients recover from surgery more quickly.

But does a school with such an outdoorsy reputation really need to be facilitating more time outside? After all, just tour campus during sophomore summer, and you’ll see students swimming in the river, sunbathing and playing spikeball on the Green. Yes: There is still room for improvement. For instance, this summer, I noticed many great outdoor spaces — such as the farmer’s market and Montshire Trails in

GABRIEL MODISETT ’25: STRESS, WINTER AND VOMIT

Norwich — were far more accessible to those with a car, given the lack of a sidewalk to those areas. And moreover, we can do more to make things pleasant outside of summer.

First, keep up existing changes like the ice rink and free cross-country skiing. If the College wants to be more generous with its money, increasing the number of free alpine ski days would be a logical place to start.

In terms of infrastructure, some changes to the landscape of this school could go a long way. Focusing just on campus — on the lawns, plazas, and other open spaces which surround Baker tower — I envision a few key changes.

We can have open air structures to withstand the elements and allow outdoor time with protection from rain and wind. Think a gazebo or pavilion of some kind, with heaters for colder months. If we really wanted to get creative, these structures themselves could be highly natural, incorporating vines or trees: Just look at the outdoor classroom spaces premiered at Harvard University’s Arnold Arboretum, complete with vine trellises. These spaces would make it easier to study and eat outdoors in all seasons. The College could also put up mini-arboretums around campus, replacing some of the smaller lawns and concrete areas on campus. Imagine a small grove of trees surrounding a table or group of tables — say, on one of the lawns in front of the LSC. I know I would love to spend time there just eating or doing work.

Finally, making the woods and trails which surround us more accessible would be a great step. For a campus that prides itself on its access to the outdoors, it is surprisingly difficult to get a taste of the forest that surrounds us. This is especially true during winter, when Pine Park and other trails go unplowed. Much like we maintain sidewalks and paths along the Green, we should better maintain some easy forest walks to ensure they can be open during the winter.

Having better sidewalks and signage to indicate where popular trails are could further the effect of a campus enmeshed in the surrounding woods and hills Regardless of what actually ends up being implemented, the point remains that a newfound focus on promoting casual, relaxed outdoor time could benefit this community immensely. No single plan could totally revolutionize the way we spend our time in nature, and, in the end, may only result in a little more time or a few more students enjoying themselves outdoors. Yet when the benefits of outdoor experiences are so manifest, from both anecdotal and scientific evidence, it is only right to make them a little easier.

Max Teszler is the vice president of the Dartmouth Outing Club.

PAGE 8

MIRROR THE DARTMOUTH WINTER CARNIVAL ISSUE

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 2022

Unraveling the Mystery: An Investigation Into the Missing Clock Hand STORY

By Stephanie Sowa

As the sun sets across the Green, the vibrant pink and orange hues dancing across the sky highlight the beauty of BakerBerry Library. The lavender (indeed, it is lavender) clock face shimmers, ticking to reveal the time to its observers. Our campus is arguably centered around this beautiful structure: congratulatory admittance posts posed in front of the clock on the Green, followed by graduation photo-ops celebrating four years of brains frantically whirring to complete homework in Blobby.

But the beautiful views hide a secret in plain sight: One of the great clock hands has gone missing.

As my trip leader, Sanjana Goli ’22 urged each and everyone of her tripees to take a tower tour before graduating from Dartmouth. These tours allow students and guests to have a more intimate look into Baker Tower and, for the first time, see it from inside. Individuals walk up several steps past the massive interior of the clock for an immaculate view of campus.

“I’ve sat in 3FB and 4FB and had a nice view of campus, but the tower tours give you a perspective of a whole different Dartmouth,” Goli said. “Tower tours happen on big weekends, so everyone has lots of spirit and has a good time.”

Most students at Dartmouth, however, don’t use this massive clock as its original architects had intended: to determine the time. One warm winter morning, I decided to have a bonding moment with the lovely lavender clock — and check out this missing hand for myself. Staring up at Baker-Berry, I recalled that this is the tallest occupied structure on campus. Its beauty has astounded Dartmouth students since 1928 when the tower was constructed.

Several people wondered what I could be doing looking up at the clock, sending odd glances my way. Obviously, I could have been looking at what hour of the day it was. But this is uncommon — most students just stroll past the tower and observe its glamour, rather than use it as it was originally intended. Maybe that’s the reason why the missing minute hand hasn’t caused more controversy — people admire

the concept of the Baker clock tower, but they never use it to actually tell the time.

Parker Rabinowitz ’25 reflects upon her relationship with the clock.

“I realize that I’ve never used the clock tower for time; I just check my phone,” Rabinowitz said. “I don’t see it as a clock.

I see it as a monument.”

Now that the timeless (no pun intended) relationship between the community and the clock has been established, I must ask: Who would dare mess with the sacred clock face of Baker-Berry? As you may or may not know, someone has successfully removed a hand from the northside of the library.

Who could it be?

Or what could it be?

Why would they do this?

I cannot believe the College allowed the clock hand to take some time off. Students don’t get a holiday! Some may think, “the audacity!” Others may wish they were the one to do it.

To my surprise, several students and faculty had not even noticed the disappearance of the clock hand. Chase Bailey ’25, who lives in Wheeler Hall, strolls past the library several times a day due to the proximity to his dorm. However, he did not realize that this disappearance had occurred until I mentioned it.

“I had no idea that Baker-Berry had a missing clock hand,” Bailey said. “I guess I never paid close enough attention, but I’ll be looking now.”

DDS and fraternities aside, stealing is not prevalent on Dartmouth’s campus nowadays. Big Green theft has been documented in books about the history of the College, however. For example, Frederick Chase chronicles the issue of stealing on campus during the 1800s in “A History of Dartmouth College and the Town of Hanover.” According to Chase, students were expelled for their theft and exposed in publications — such as the chap in 1845 who “was exposed as a wholesale robber of books… and was expelled from the societies and from college.”

I doubt many students are stealing books

CHARLIE RUDGE/THE DARTMOUTH

from the stacks, but the clock face is in an entirely different realm. Would this warrant expulsion? Perhaps not. But who doesn’t want to unearth the truth?

As I walk through Novak and past the green chairs clustered together in the Tower Room, everyone has become a suspect.

Everyone looks suspicious. No one seems to make direct eye contact. They glance down at their wrist watches and phones, disrespecting our beautiful clock that has been disgraced. They know something is off.

No one claims to have stolen it. But if you had, wouldn’t you be sharing your accomplishment? Even discreetly? You would have had to trek up the mighty tower stairs in hopes of even getting a glimpse of the clock. You would have had to bask in the lavender light, feeling superior to everyone. So why is no one claiming this feat?

Time to investigate further.

Walking past the circulation desk in Baker, I asked four different individuals working for the library about the missing clock hand. Surely, they would know? But alas, each and every one of them had no

clue what I was talking about. I started to lose hope. It seemed that the rest of the world had moved on: I remained stuck in time, trying to discover the truth.

Until Craig. Craig Pallett: He had the answer. An information access assistant in shining armor resides in the library. He explains that the elements attacked the clock and brought the hand to its downfall.

“It blew off in a storm,” Pallett revealed.

“From what I was told, it’s in the snow and they have not been able to find it.”

The elements! At last, we have uncovered the culprit. During the cold, blustery days in the Hellish Hanover Woods, the clock hand fell. While the zealous wind was slapping the rest of our faces and freezing our eyelashes, it also attacked the innocent Baker-Berry.

According to Pallett, the library is waiting for the snow to melt in order to recover the missing hand. Peace at last.

But something feels off. We’ve come to our conclusion in too few minutes. When the snow essentially melted the other day in our forty degree summer weather, no clock hand emerged. As I trek across the Green with piles of white, billowy snow

surrounding me, I have little faith for the reemergence of this clockhand. I forced myself to be content with this truth. I accepted this — for now.

But trends change, rumors fly, questions are raised. Perhaps the hand lies within a fraternity basement? The houses are known for their shenanigans. An old classroom?

A professor’s house? Somewhere in town?

A senior society? Did the culprit, who or whatever it may be, attain the clock hand after the storm blew it off, or did they get to the clock before the elements could?

Perhaps at this very moment, the clock hand gazes upon a competitive game of Dartmouth pong. Perhaps, as a paddle flies by, almost grazing it, the clock hand thinks to itself, “Ah, tradition.” Perhaps it is comfortable in its new home. Perhaps it was time for it to move on to new adventures.

Time will tell if the original clock hand is reinstated. I am no Sherlock Holmes.

Maybe a lucky frat, club or society will keep it as treasure forever. A timeless centerpiece, indeed. Although it cannot be confirmed which brave soul ventured out into the cold to claim the clock hand, it’s time to tick tock to the next case, my friends.

A Flock of Canada Goose: A Look Into Classism in Winter Clothing STORY

By Hannah Shariff

At Dartmouth, winter is synonymous with preparation. The frigid temperatures and infamous “no-snow day” policy can make winter in the Upper Valley almost inhospitable, with every quick jaunt outside demanding layers upon layers. But by far, the most important part of winter preparation is our jacket, the shield that protects students against cutting winds as they trudge to a 9L. It is also the most noticeable element of a winter outfit. A handful of jacket brands dominate the campus, but few stick out quite like Canada Goose and Moncler.

One of the most popular Canada Goose models is the Shelburne Parka, at a price of $1,275. A typical Moncler jacket is around $2,000. At Dartmouth, where around 52%of the student body receives financial aid, the ubiquity of these jackets can seem unbelievable. However, in a 2017 study published in the New York Times, researchers found that the median family income of a student from Dartmouth is $200,400. They also found that 21% of Dartmouth students are in the top 1%, while 4.5% are from the top 0.01% income bracket. While these statistics are readily available on the internet, seeing them mirror reality on campus clearly illuminates the wealth gap at Dartmouth.

Ellie Brown ’25 said she was surprised by the amount of designer-brand jackets on campus.

“I didn’t think it would be as pervasive as it is,” she said. “If you think about it in a general sense, it’s a very small portion of society that has the means to purchase a one thousand dollar jacket for a season.

But it’s everywhere. It’s more fascinating than anything. It certainly reveals the socioeconomic demographic at Dartmouth.”

Although Brown’s mother offered to buy her a designer coat, she passed, noting they were “more of a status symbol” and that one can buy cheaper coats that are “just as warm, if not more practical” than designer coats.

Anell Paulino ’25 felt that many students were unaware of the wealth divide at Dartmouth.

“I don’t think some students recognize the privilege of some students here until they see the markers of wealth like the jackets or similar things,” Paulino said. “Personally, it reminds me of where I’m from, and that I’m here for a reason. I’m here to get to a point where I don’t have to worry about getting the next paycheck. Seeing people display their wealth is definitely very new and different, but, I mean, it’s Dartmouth.

I’m not surprised.”

In sociological terms classism is a form of discrimination or prejudice based on social class. While fashion choices don’t intentionally alienate others, they are symbols of the perceived difference between students that have wealth and those who don’t. Sociology professor Janice McCabe, who is part of the Money Matters — a group of faculty and staff addressing financial accessibility on campus — said that brands like Canada Goose or Moncler act as symbolic indicators of class.

“Because we typically don’t know how much money people have in their bank accounts or how much other people make, we use symbolic markers [like winter jackets] that act as a shorthand for class,” McCabe said. “Clothing is a big marker because it’s often identifiable to people, especially if you’re more class conscious, some people can be more aware of them than others.”

Jeremiah Lozano ’23 noted the designer status of winter clothes creates a “stark divide” between students that have “barebones winter clothing” and those who can afford winter clothes that “cost well over $1000.”

For Paulino, class consciousness is a fixed part of her experience at Dartmouth.

“It just reminds me of my place,” Paulino said. “Obviously, I’m not wealthy and I’ll just say it, I’m not white. So it kind of sadly humbles me. It reminds me that

‘ok, you’re here on a scholarship. You’re [a first-generation, low-income]” student, and you have to work hard.’ Regardless of how hard I work, I still won’t be part of the ‘elite.’

I am one of the outliers at this school,” she said.

The demarcation between the upper 1% and low-income students can create a distinct dichotomy, even at a school in a rural area that prides itself on its separation from outside influences. According to Aiden Casey ’25, the socioeconomic divide between students inextricably creates a social ladder.

“I don’t mean to, but I definitely pass judgment on someone wearing incredibly expensive clothing,” he said. “It certainly creates a distinct class hierarchy on campus.

I don’t know if that’s always present, but it’s always in the background.”

According to McCabe, a hierarchical influence exists due to a perception of having a different experience than that of the perceived “mainstream” or “average” Dartmouth experience.

While Gavin Fry ’25 does not prioritize designer brands, he also experienced the pressure of attempting to fit into what is believed to be the Dartmouth experience.

“When I first got here for the [First Year Student Enrichment Program], I thought I had to change who I was for a bit,” Fry said. “I thought I had to get rid of my Southern accent, wear preppier clothes so people would recognize that I was from a ‘decent’ place.”

However, Fry said his initial desire to fit in subsided as he found his place within the Dartmouth community, adding that at the end of the day “we are all people.”

“Even though it is more noticeable during the wintertime, it depends on how you’re able to acknowledge the difference, and how it impacts you,” he said. “When academics start hitting, it really doesn’t matter how well you look in -10 degree weather, it’s more of whether you‘re

comfortable or not.”

However, the ability to stay comfortable during winter temperatures can be an arduous task for low-income students.

According to Lozano, a Texan, preparing for the winter required extensive preparation.

“Personally, I mainly relied upon the thrifting pop-ups that would happen around here,” Lozano said. “I would catch a bus and go to towns nearby and see if they had any cheap winter clothing. The L.L Bean gift card I received from FYSEP was also helpful.”

Due to the extraordinary costs of winter clothing, FYSEP has offered a voucher program — in the form of L.L.Bean gift cards — that help low-income students buy coats and boots. Jay Davis, program director of FYSEP and the head of the First Generation office, said that his team coordinates resources with other parts of campus to help low-income students.

“We work with partner offices on campus like OPAL and the financial aid office to help ensure that the lowest income students of every first-year class that comes in receive LL Bean gift cards— it’s our priority for each first-year class coming in,” Davis said.

“We’ve also tried our best to reach out to sophomores who weren’t on campus their first-year winter to get them some as well.”

The program has been an immense help for students coming from warmer climates such as Fry, who is from Southern Missouri.

“When it was October in my first fall term, midterms were in full swing, clothing wasn’t really on my mind,” he said. “I remember the day I got the email [about the L.L.Bean Vouchers]. It wasn’t just the gesture itself, but it was more of them giving us a list of what we needed. I was thinking [of a] big coat, maybe a toboggan or something.

But they went above and beyond.”

Davis also partnered with the Sustainability Office to hold a coat drive in late fall. Fry noted that FYSEP reached out to him via email about the drive, which

he found very useful.

“I’ve survived one month of a New England winter so far,” Fry said. “But without the gesture from FYSEP, I wouldn’t have.”

Davis also helped expose students to possible wealth differences on campus during the summer arrival program, in hopes of starting the conversation early about class differences.

“One of our goals with the FYSEP program in August was to help students understand that there’s going to be people here from a wide range of income backgrounds, including students who are able to afford very expensive winter clothing,” Davis said. “We try to demystify that, and we let them know what kind of the basics are, and that you don’t need a fancy coat or status symbols to stay warm.”

Although winter at Dartmouth can mean an enunciation of class differences, it is a part of our daily lives — and a reminder of the greater economic disparities that exist outside of the College. However, the acknowledgment of differences can lead to uncomfortable but necessary conversations about how students experience wealth and privilege — or lack thereof — in individual ways. According to McCabe, students that own Canada Goose jackets may feel guilty talking about the issue, as they may not be seen as working as hard or overly benefitting from their privilege. However, she believes that discussing class issues can help remove some of the feelings of alienation that can take place.

“Willing to be vulnerable is one thing,” McCabe said. “That takes some trust. And it takes time, it’s not something you can really do in a surface-level conversation. You have to be willing to say the wrong thing, and also be having a conversation with a person that is generous enough to let you do that who won’t assume the worst of you. There’s a risk on both sides. But it’s really worth it to understand more about other people’s experiences.”

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 2022

PAGE 9

THE DARTMOUTH WINTER CARNIVAL ISSUE

The Dartmouth Aires Celebrate 75 Years STORY

By Mia Russo

Upon first glance, it may seem odd that a cappella is given such a large spotlight when it comes to welcoming new students to the College — with performances both at Dimensions and during Orientation Week. Yet, watching these tight-knit groups of people singing together, bouncing across the stage in uniquely coordinated outfits is a wonderful collective memory that Dartmouth students share.

A cappella uniquely showcases much of what Dartmouth prides itself on: tradition, talent and community. As the first a cappella group founded at the College, the Dartmouth Aires embody these values — and with this year marking the group’s 75th anniversary, these values are all the more prominent.

“Because the Aires are so small and so tradition-laden, there’s a very good sense of institutional history in the group,” said Patrick Howard ’23, a member of the Aires. “We know traditionals and that’s like a solemn duty of the group — to keep up those old Dartmouth songs. The fact that there are songs all the alumni still know, the fact that we can expect over 100 of them to come back at any given anniversary…

It does give you a sense of the history and length of time going back that not a lot of groups can.”

The Aires, who declare themselves “one of the nation’s eminent a cappella ensembles,” have humble origins.

The group began as a small offshoot of members from the College’s Glee Club in 1946, originally going by the racist name ‘Injunaires,’ according to Howard.

“There would be a group of maybe seven people [who] would come up during the intermission [of Glee Club performances] and perform a song a cappella,” said Howard. “And that was how the group existed for about 30 years. They rode off of the all-male choral group vibe that was apparently popular — until somewhere in the ’70s, when we changed our name to just ‘the Aires.’”

With their new name came the traditions that can still be seen in the group today. These include performing a mix of traditional and modern songs, having ‘Aires names’ — two syllable nicknames ending in ‘-o’ and ‘-trou’ — and the crazy outfits almost synonymous with the Aires themselves, according to Howard. This sense of legacy, coupled with rehearsals three times a week and

a shared passion for making music together, makes the group of 15 to 20 men a uniquely tight community.

According to music director Jacob Donoghue ’22, the a cappella group will “definitely stay” with him even after he graduates.

“I think there’s something to be said about actively singing with people,” Donoghue said. “I know there’s been some research where a lot of the time when people are singing in unison, their heartbeats will actually sync up — which is pretty cool. I think there’s something to be said about everyone adding their own voices to create a shared experience that’s really special.”

According to alumni chair Sheil Sharma ’23, one key to this bond is “trou” — clothes that, Sharma notes, if an observer were “colorblind and pattern blind”, they would think “we were dressed up very nicely.” And though the brightly colored suit jackets and boldly patterned slacks may look random, “trou” serves a very specific purpose in the group, Howard said, and is essential for new members to assimilate into the characteristic traditions of the Aires.

“Because the group’s a smaller size and because you can’t recede into the background, being part of the Aires is being visible,” said Howard. “That’s the clothes and the dancing — that’s part of how we perform.”

Freshman member and recording chair Alan Hatch ’25 reflected on the importance of “trou” to the culture of the Aires and how it helps solidify bonds in the group.

“Whether it is being able to be silly and be okay with that and doing something that I might have thought was odd before — [the Aires have] kind of brought me out of my shell” said Hatch.

“But also, it’s probably one of the first times in my life I’ve ever felt a sense of brotherhood. And it’s a really cool experience to be able to say that these are people I’m going to know and have such a good, strong, deep connection to, for the rest of my life.”

Many “trou” items are passed down through generations of alumni as bequests. Notably, there is a green jacket that belonged to the founder of the Aires in 1946 and a 50 year old baby blue suit that is a “sacred bequest” to the group’s music director each year, according to Howard. This tradition makes “trou” more than just a quasi-

GAIA YUN/THE DARTMOUTH

initiation task, but an important part of the Aires’ culture and key to both their identity and recognizability.

“When we’re wearing those jackets, there is a sense of being in a group that at least to me feels palpable — there is a sense of tradition, like putting on a uniform,” said Howard. “When we were in Boston on this past year’s tour, we were walking from a show somewhere in the middle of the city to an alumni house, and we got stopped by three different Dartmouth alums on the way — all in different places, just because they recognized the jackets.”

The Aires may be recognized by more recent graduates and current students due to their fun clothes and energetic performances of new hits such as Rufus’ ‘Tell Me Something Good’ and Taylor Swift’s ‘Blank Space,’ but to the members of the group, performing is not as light-hearted as it may seem.

“With how long the group’s been around, it is kind of cemented in the history of the College in a cool way — being able to be a part of that is really cool,” Howard said. “I don’t really know the words to describe it, but it does feel surreal — it feels like a bit of an honor to be putting on [old members’ clothes] and welcoming a bunch of people to their college experience via a cappella.”

T he Aires are also popular among alumni, perhaps due to their perfor mances of the Dartmouth traditionals — such as the alma mater, “Twilight Song” and the “Ivy League Medley” — “that maybe 30 or 40 years ago, people would actually go sing at football games, but are a little less present in current Dartmouth culture,” Sharma said.

“In my time in the Aires, we’ve performed for a lot of alumni reunions, and it’s been a really cool thing to see people still being tethered to Dartmouth at that age,” Donoghue said. “All of them loved Dartmouth enough that they came back. All of them could still sing the words to the songs, and that’s been a pretty unique experience.”

Even stronger than the nostalgia the general Dartmouth alumni network gets from the Aires is the Aires alumni themselves. With reunions every three years, the undergraduate members “make a point to stay pretty close to the alumni,” even holding gatherings on Zoom throughout the pandemic, according to Sharma and Howard.

“At reunions, there’s a day where you just have this big concert and different groups from different time periods [of the Aires] will go up and sing songs,” Donoghue said. “Sometimes, there

are a couple songs that have been in the group ever since our founding, so everyone will go up and sing and that’s really fun. Sometimes, you’ll get some people from the ’60s going up and singing sea shanties and stuff like that.”

Looking to their 75th anniversary reunion this spring, around 200 people have already RSVP’d — including Aires alumni and their families dating back to the Class of 1946.

“We’re just super grateful to [our alumni] for putting in so much work to schedule these reunions because it’s something that we love as undergrads,” Sharma said. “There’s a whole alumni Board of grown-ups who care enough about this group to put in a ton of time to make [this 75th celebration] happen.”

After multiple years of COVID-19 protocols, the Aires are thrilled to be back singing together in person. And for three of the four classes, this spring will be their first introduction to a “normal” Aires reunion.

“I’m really excited to see what happens in May — when all the years come back and we’re able to really celebrate what it means to be a part of this group that’s so important to us and also to the institution of the College,” Sharma said.

THE DARTMOUTH WINTER CARNIVAL ISSUE

PAGE 10

Photo Essay: Around the Clock PHOTO

By Naina Bhalla

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 2022