A Nice-Feeling Earthquake

By Daniel Linsalata | Tuesday, June 1, 2004

Early in the morning on Saturday, April 20th, 2002, an earthquake emanating from Plattsburgh, New York, registered on the Hanover Plain a 5.1 magnitude on the seismic scale. The tectonic shift was mild enough that most students ended up sleeping through it, though some walls and belongings were gently rattled. "It was a really nice feeling earthquake," according to Earth Sciences Professor Jim Aronson. "It just makes you feel attuned to nature when you get to experience something like that."

Earthquakes are rare in these parts. Still, Dartmouth is prone to such occurrences—as evidenced by the recent material circulated by the Center for the Women and Gender. "What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? THE WORLD WOULD SPLIT OPEN." The quote comes from mid-century poet Muriel Rukeyser, but was used to promote a month-long campaign to raise awareness of the history of coeducation. To that end, seven College women recently answered to the call for the "Women of Dartmouth" to "Please Stand Up." A packed house in Filene Auditorium gathered to hear them speak, but avoided the predicted geo-seismic catastrophe.

Each woman on the panel narrated her story, usually about her "ammmaaaaaaaazing experiences," as the event host enthusiastically put it. As the panelists told their stories, it was readily apparent that they were suitably "diverse." That meant: a romantic-artsy type, a zealous lesbian, a closeted lesbian, a girl with everything going for her but battling inner demons, a small-town sweetheart coming to terms with things, a girl who refused to be defined by race, a proud mother struggling to make it big, and a popular girl seeking a sense of place. The only stock character missing was a black athlete who would occasionally interject phrases like "Oh snap!" and "You got served!"

The first panelist, a Polish exchange student and aspiring film-director, expressed her disappointment in the Dartmouth social scene, although she was fortunate enough to fall in love with (and move in with) her boyfriend by the winter of her freshman year. Her main concern now is Dartmouth's unwillingness to make "provisions for adults that love each other to live together." This year, however, she was delighted to discover the great support extended for pregnancy and motherhood, as her first child is nearly five months old, with another bun in the oven.

The second panelist began by enumerating the terms which she would use to identify herself. She declined to acknowledge 'Latina,' despite her Peruvian heritage—race, she explained, rarely came up as an issue during her childhood, though she acknowledged feeling somehow different. It was not until her arrival at Dartmouth that she finally felt guilty about not "embracing" her identity, but only because she felt as if the College was trying to impose the identity on her.

The infamous Sheila Hicks, author of such seminal sex-advice columns as "Name that Fluid," spoke third. She discussed how she had been "hell-bent" on going to Oberlin, where she looked forward to "dating lots of beautiful women." Upon her parents' insistence, she attended Dartmouth, where she initially lived in fear of the "GAP mafia," but found the women's rugby team to be remarkably accepting of her sexuality. Shocking. What Ms. Hicks' story lacked in content and conclusion, it certainly made up for in humor and entertainment value, as most of the audience was in stitches for the entirety of the improvised speech.

The next two panelists both fit nicely into the "pretty white girls with problems" mold, as both were forced to overcome acute illnesses. The first became clinically depressed after spending eight consecutive terms in residence, while the second contracted a rare strain of malaria during a trip to Africa. The upshot of both stories focused how each girl had a drastically different outlook on the world as a result of her hardship, although the rest of the world had not come to see her any differently. Traumatic stories, to be sure, but not particularly earth-shattering.

The sixth speaker, crooning like the second coming of Maya Angelou, was in fact the only woman of Dartmouth who actually stood up. A perpetually blissful exchange student from Trinidad and Tobago, she reiterated the message that everyone is special in their own way, being yourself is always best, never forget to smile, and other gems of the "Chicken Soup for the Soul" variety. Following a brief song about smiles, the female version of Mr. Rogers took her seat.

After a slow start to her piece, the final speaker grabbed the audience's attention with the shocking declaration that "I fell in love with these sixteen eight-year-olds who I just wanted to lick and bring home." Her proceeding story about her work with deaf school children in the Marshall Islands (rather than dormant pedophilic fantasies) proved to be the most inspiring of the group. Unfortunately, its effect was overshadowed by her closing declaration, for the first time publicly, that she is gay. "Most of you are hearing this for the first time," she explained. "Well, surprise!" This, of course, elicited deafening cheers of support from the audience. While an admittedly bold gesture, it drowned out the potentially powerful impact of the first part of her speech, and seemed to lack any context within the panel discussion.

While each of these women inarguably overcame obstacles, achieved something personally or publicly significant, or boasted another similarly meritorious accomplishment, the stories themselves were not the most intriguing part of the presentation, nor was the earth's failure to split at its seam. Rather, it was the fact that none of the stories (save that of the woman who had a child) focused upon circumstances that are unique to women. The stories could have just as easily featured a man and not have been dramatically different. This gap begs the obvious question: what is the point? If the stories failed to embody and celebrate the power of women, what did they ultimately prove?

If the difference between the experiences that can be related by men and women are indistinguishable, then the program itself bears two controversial implications. First, because women were singled out as the subjects for this panel, and no equivalent for men was offered, it suggests that men are not equally capable of such remarkable stories or accomplishments. Alternatively, by demanding that those women with remarkable stories must be elevated—as if members of both sexes do not overcome tragedies everyday—the program implies that women are less capable than men. While the Center for Women and Gender clearly does not want to send either message, the existence of this program, particularly without any gender-specific anecdotes, reinforces these exact implications. A reconsideration of the event is clearly in order.

Perhaps a background on the history of women at Dartmouth could be useful before drawing conclusions about the "Women of Dartmouth" program. The Coeducation Awareness campaign continued on Saturday with a panel discussion billed as "The Real Faces of Coeducation," which featured several current students, a pair of alums, and English professor Alan Gaylord. The panel opened as each speaker gave his or her thoughts on coeducation and the ways that it has changed Dartmouth.

The half-capacity audience in the Top of the Hop quickly realized that the current students, having only been at the College for a few years, lacked the perspective necessary to contribute much to the discussion. Allison Reed '06, made a vague reference to the problems facing Dartmouth women, stating that more support resources are available than are generally utilized, but failed to expand upon what any of them are. Dartmouth Review Executive Editor Emeritus Stefan Beck '04 related the experiences of his father, an alumnus who had opposed coeducation. He explained that it was a tradition for Dartmouth men to go on road trips looking for women. With the advent of coeducation, that social dynamic was destroyed, as women were readily available on campus. Beck characterized the social change as the "difference between going hunting and having a buffet in front of you." Lara Appleby '04, sitting beside her father, Tom '66, timidly interjected every now and then that she enjoyed Dartmouth and had no problems with it.

Tom Appleby, along with fellow alumna Brita Reed '76 (Allison's mother) and Professor Gaylord, offered significantly more enlightening stories. Ms. Reed, who was a member of the first class of women enrolled, discussed the hostilities that she and her fellow women faced. While the period is best remembered for the Cohog song and cries to "send the bitches home," Ms. Reed admitted such actions were typically only isolated to big weekends, while gender relations were otherwise cordial. She also hinted that, given the general appearance of the females in her class, the label "cohog" may not have been entirely without reason. Despite finding few allies among students, faculty, and administrators, the women grew stronger every year, as each successive incoming class swelled their ranks. The strength in numbers, she explained, gave women a much stronger voice.

Professor Gaylord, who had worked at Dartmouth for a number of years while it was still all men, explained the transition from a faculty perspective, both in terms of teaching women and hiring them in his department. He remarked on the decline of other "offensive" traditions—in addition to Hums over Green Key [see TDR 5/10/04], gender equity demanded the end of traditional Dirty Poetry readings at Theta Delt. Professor Gaylord fondly recalled receiving a formal invitation to the event in the years shortly before coeducation, and understanding "tails" to mean that a tuxedo was required.

From this point, the discussion rapidly devolved into Gaylord and Appleby reminiscing about the good ole days of life at Dartmouth before coeducation. Appleby talked about the hallowed traditions associated with dating before girls attended, including the tie on the door, smuggling girls into dorms, and "midnight golf," which entailed taking one's date out to the golf course to be alone after the dorms closed at 11 p.m. Gaylord lamented the downfall of these traditions and, most importantly, the poorly conceived policy of in loco parentis the College assumed upon the advent of coeducation.

Though residential deans keep a strict watch over behavior in the dorms, there was no shortage of golf partners for male students before the arrival of women. In fact, the freshmen facebooks from the years leading up to 1972 contained extensive directories and descriptions of girls' schools in New England. Their words of wisdom included such nuggets as:

"Dear libidinous '66: In the interests of a more 'liberal' education, your Green Book staff has included this brief guide to other institutions of higher learning. May your days and nights be filled with joy; and may your weekends, no less, reflect the serenity of one satisfied with his educational experiences...

"Skidmore College—Skidmore has been referred to as the girl's Dartmouth, right down to the last glass of beer and the last undone assignment. There are a number of appealing centers of liquid entertainment in Saratoga Springs, and a Skidmore road trip can't help but be highly successful...It is impossible to get shot down in Saratoga Springs.

"Smith College—Smithies are usually good dates to tell your mother about. Smith is the largest girls' school in the country and so you can find just about anything there. If you play the odds, go to Smith. If you like guarantees, stick to Skidmore.

"Simmons College—Simmons is an unknown quantity at Dartmouth, but on the strength of several very favorable reports, we are hoping that some enterprising Dartmouth men will explore this, ahem, untapped resouce

"UNH and UVM—Do you long for the kind of girl you went to high school with? Well, UNH and UVM are for you. Both offer a wide variety of girls with simple tastes and simple minds. We realize they are not girls' colleges as such, but we hope their inclusion will help alleviate the social dysentery which plauges many freshmen."

While the case can be made that freshmen still suffer from "social dysentery" thirty years after coeducation, these hunting guides assuredly proved helpful at the time. Conspicuously absent from the discussion was any declaration that Dartmouth is better off, socially or academically, as a result of coeducation. While all agreed that the social and academic scene is drastically different, there were no claims that it was necessarily improved. However, an environment that emphasizes differences between the genders, while at the same time trying to promote equality between them, rarely proves a desirable alternative.

A Nice-Feeling Earthquake

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