On Culture, Tradition, and Hope

Even in the best of circumstances, Dartmouth alumni are an anxious bunch. Roaming around the campus of their alma mater or loitering in the basements of their fraternities, alumni tend to be a cynical presence. They fixate on all that has changed since their time at the College. They lament the erosion of the traditions that they held dear as undergraduates. And they prophesy the demise of the authentic ‘Dartmouth Experience’ as an inevitability.

Nostalgia is certainly at the core of alumni’s attitudes. But I fear that the tumult of the pandemic has turned what was once merely wistful nostalgia into anxious pessimism. And not without good reason. The last time Dartmouth had a Homecoming on campus, the current seniors had only just joined Greek life and the juniors were not allowed in fraternities yet. Institutional memory is short, and fraternities are scrambling to figure out what an authentic Homecoming experience actually entails.

This Homecoming Weekend—when Hanover is teeming with cantankerous alumni who in recent years have seen their beloved ritual corroded by smaller bonfires, taller fences, and a pitiful virtual glow stick ceremony—it will be easy to surrender to the view that the Dartmouth that alumni experienced is irretrievably lost.

I see things quite differently. For the last year, I have had a unique vantage point from which to view life at the College. Not quite an alumnus or a student, I have spent my long sabbatical from Dartmouth—now entering its third year—in nearby Woodstock, Vermont. Close enough to take part in campus life but far enough away to have sufficient critical distance, I have seen Dartmouth evolve from ghost town to police state to the reinvigorated community of today. And I am optimistic.

In my optimism, I have not overlooked just how bad campus life got last year. Three dead students, rampant loneliness, and an administration more concerned with “disappearing” the minority of disobedient students than accommodating the basic needs of the student body—it’s been a grim year. For eighteen months, the hallowed Dartmouth experience known to alumni was replaced with a hollowed Dartmouth experience for current students. I consider myself fortunate to have had as much distance from campus as I did.

The pandemic robbed many of Dartmouth’s young men and women of social cohesion and a firm sense of community. ‘22s and ‘23s scattered from campus in March 2020 during an especially insecure time in their Dartmouth careers, leaving behind whatever nascent friendships they had formed without a clear understanding of when they would be reunited. ‘24s and ‘25s were forced to navigate coming of age as teenagers with considerably less socialization than usual. The full impact of these disruptions is yet to be felt on campus and in society more broadly.

These hardships have, however, bred an understated resilience among a sizeable portion of Dartmouth students. So many students on campus today are craving tradition, ritual, and community. Unlike past classes, students are not taking traditions for granted because they have not even had the opportunity to. Emerging from the long cultural famine of the last year and a half is a student body with renewed hunger and passion for recreating the Dartmouth that it was promised.

I have seen this mentality manifest in different forms. For some students, it surfaces in their hesitance to forfeit even a single term away from Dartmouth to study abroad. For others, it motivates their flirtation with rushing an eclectic variety of dissimilar fraternities—a phenomenon that has brought an unusual diversity to houses during pandemic-era rush. Dartmouth ’24s, in particular, are enthusiastic, socially curious, and unhindered by the usual cliques that emerge in their first year. Their unconventional introduction to Dartmouth might just make them the best-positioned class to breathe new life into the College’s traditions and culture.

The ‘24s—and indeed all undergraduates—cannot do this on their own. The support of those anxious alumni that I mentioned earlier is absolutely crucial. This Homecoming Weekend, alumni should take the initiative to teach their willing pupils all that they can about Dartmouth’s traditions. Students, likewise, should be especially receptive. Below, I have outlined a few simple ways that this can and likely will happen.

Alumni:

·      Dedicate time to engaging with undergrads, not just other alumni. You will never feel as appreciated by them as you will now.

·      When undergrads are being predictably asinine, insult them. Then, take the opportunity to share some insight into how things should be done. Now is the time to show that you actually care about preserving tradition and that you can do more than complain.

·      Get off of the pong table. Pong isn’t going anywhere—that’s not a tradition under siege. The lesser-known songs, games, and rituals are what are existentially threatened. Make a concerted effort to pass along that knowledge.

Students:

·      Approach alumni and ask questions. They are rarely purveyors of wisdom, but they tell good stories and know how to make the most out of the Dartmouth experience. Think of alumni as a local giving you directions on a road trip—you can certainly find your way on your own, but you’ll skip much of the hassle by just listening to what alumni have to say.

·      Find out what alumni wish they had done while at Dartmouth but hadn’t—this question often brings the best advice.

·      Be patient with crotchety alumni—you’ll act the same way when you’re working eighty-hour weeks in finance.

·      Buy into Dartmouth culture. Whatever fleeting empowerment you might feel from casting your rejection of Dartmouth culture as some broader act of ‘resistance’ pales in comparison to the ecstasy of enthusiastic participation.

None of my suggestions are particularly novel. I firmly believe that most alumni and students will follow them instinctively. Even so, they are worth compiling and publishing because the stakes are high. Alumni have ample reason to be anxious about the future of Dartmouth’s culture. The pandemic has jeopardized a substantial amount of institutional knowledge. The best way for alumni to respond to their anxieties is to be vigilant about conferring. Alumni have to step up and pass along the traditions they care about.

In turn, the traditions of Old Dartmouth will foster social vitality in what we can safely consider the loneliest generation in recent history. Traditions are the means by which culture confers a sense of belonging—and students need to feel like they belong to a community now more than ever. Thus, in passing along the rituals of Dartmouth culture, alumni will be doing far more than quelling their anxieties about the decaying culture of the College—they will be equipping students with organic ways to come together after such prolonged isolation. Traditions, in this way, are restorative.

The sacrifices that we have all been forced to make over the last year and a half have shown us that community, culture, and shared ritual are indispensable to human flourishing. With such great awareness of the displeasure that results in their absence, undergrads have an unparalleled opportunity to bring newfound vitality to Dartmouth ritual and revelry. And alumni have a responsibility to aid, educate, and mentor their younger brethren, lest the old traditions fail.