“Freshman View”: Frat Ban Ends

Alexander C. Barrow, Associate Editor

It was finally the night every ’27 has been waiting for: the night that frat ban was lifted. For weeks, the ’27s on Fizz theorized about the immaculate interiors and vaulted ceilings of frat basements: the Ivy League ideal of drinking an Old Fashioned and talking about the proliferation of populist ideas in the modern political landscape. 

However, this overly romanticized, almost aristocratic version of fraternities at Dartmouth created some disappointment among a number of ’27s.

Luckily, I am perfectly satisfied with the charm of crushed Keystone cans hidden under pong tables … the classic “party music” from the same few artists that never seem to get old … the bustle of people discussing the stress of week eight and blowing off steam, saying things like, “I wish I would have taken [insert layup] instead of…”

The experience of emerging from the crammed, self-heating frat basement into the cool, crisp New Hampshire air was almost as relieving as taking that initial shower following first-year trips. 

Walking back to my dorm and reflecting on Dartmouth’s social landscape, I finally understood why fraternities have such a stronghold on campus culture. I saw the appeal of brotherhood, the sense of belonging, and the source of pride that fraternities bring. I saw the camaraderie, and, most of all, I saw controlled chaos.

Hailey N. King, Associate Editor

The freshman seemed to be excited about the end of frat ban. Some went to tails, some went to random houses to get defeated at pong, and everyone seemed to be on edge, ready to be part of the frat scene at Dartmouth. The first weekends post-ban saw drunk freshmen stumbling around or in long lines waiting to get in most places. I saw many games of tree at the houses that did let in freshmen efficiently, the very same freshmen who ended up blaming their paddles after their defeat. While freshmen learned pong, upperclassmen stood and gawked at the utter lack of skill unfolding before them.

Ultimately, the freshmen, despite lousy pong skills and lack of ability to have conversations with upperclassmen, were welcomed into Greek spaces. People learned how to dance, had fun, and learned a new aspect of the Dartmouth community. 

An Anonymous ’27

For weeks, the Class of 2027 mournfully dreamt of the party scene at Dartmouth. We solemnly trudged to the Fayesment and the Choates, hoping to relish in the short minutes of community we had before SNS would inevitably arrive to send us scampering to Foco late-night, and then to our dorms. Our despair was lengthened by the extension of Frat ban to the First of November.

Finally, when November arrived, we freshmen earnestly bid farewell to the Fayesment, and marched off towards Frat Row. The freshmen found themselves in a desperate situation—droves desperately pounded on the doors of Chi Gam and Phi Delt, only for a brother to come outside every 10 minutes to allow for the entry of a select swathe of ’27 women. Eventually, everyone else trekked off to other houses in hopes of finding a spot on a less-populated pong table.

In a welcome shift from the rest of the fall term, we freshmen were not the antagonists of the weekend. Instead, the College appeared united behind a common enemy, Beta, whose escapades (including allegedly hurling a brick through a window and into the heads of two unsuspecting pedestrians) earned them no love.

If there’s one thing that the Class of 2027 learned the first weekend after frat ban, it was to tread lightly. The brothers of the various fraternities are not quick to forget, and ’27s have earned watchful, suspicious eyes from everyone, most especially from the brothers on whom the freshmen will soon be dependent for bids.