Tempus Fugit, Amor Manet: A Valediction of Gratitude

As I sit down to write a final editorial to culminate my editorship, I am struck by a certain degree of pensiveness and restlessness but also a great degree of thankfulness. Reading over the ultimate editorials of previous Review editors, I observed how many discussed that their respective times at Dartmouth were full of change, and that in their years at the College, they witnessed turbulent changes and a slow degradation of standards. Administrators were rolling out changes, standards were falling, the traditions were failing, and no hope was in sight for a reversion to a greater past. In short, optimism was rare and uncertainty was unanimous. Arguably, in the past four years of Dartmouth, the College has undergone the most change since the admission of women fifty years ago. Covid and its consequences froze two years of college and displaced numerous relationships and bonds that were essential for maintaining and passing on the traditional Dartmouth community. The normalcy to which campus has returned differs greatly from what was present when I stepped onto campus as a freshman in the fall of 2019. Perhaps merely the excitement of campus has waned as I have grown accustomed to it, but dear old Dartmouth has altered vastly in my time here.

While the urge to lament these changes is tempting and I could ramble for thousands of words on how Dartmouth has lost its distinctiveness and merely become another one of the homogenous campuses across higher education, what I wish, oddly enough, is for my departing message to both The Review and to campus to be one of gratitude. For better or worse, who I am today has been molded by my last four years here. I do not believe that it is possible for the ‘23s to fully appreciate what we have experienced here quite yet, but whatever this whole journey has been, I am thankful for it.

More than anything else on campus, I am grateful for The Review. In Devon Kurtz ‘20’s last editorial as editor of The Review, he summarized his stance toward the paper with one word: love. I second this sentiment, and while unlike mine, his journey at the paper was dominated by internal strife between staff members, my own journey with the paper has still come to a similar conclusion. The Review can undoubtedly be excessive, but when the paper is functioning properly, there is no other organization on campus that can replicate the intellectual excitement and comradery as it does.

Due to the leadership of Devon, the paper was not as turbulent and contentious when I joined as it was the years before I came to campus, but there have been other struggles. BREAK Covid ground paper operations to a halt, ceasing physical publishing, the lifeblood of the paper. Due to staffing problems, I was forced to take on the mantle of leadership extremely early in my tenure at the paper, becoming President in January of my sophomore year. (Oddly enough, I became President of The Review before I even rushed my fraternity. While I would challenge future Reviewers to replicate this feat, you probably should have a little more seasoning than I did.) While I could list off what has been necessary to get The Review back to pre-COVID printing standards and such, I would simply note that my time both as President and then as Editor has been extremely rewarding in a way that transcends any organizational feats or achievements. For this reason and the friends that I have made along the way, I am filled with gratitude. To the upperclassmen that were present when I joined who showed me the ropes of writing and guided my ambition into production, I am endlessly thankful, and to the present underclassmen who keep me in check and are a constant source of energy and excitement, I am similarly thankful. I know that after I depart, The Review will be guided by determined and loving hands.

In ways both intellectual and social, The Review has shaped me. It has taught me when to attack and when to retreat, when to work and when to play, and what is possible to achieve when friends band together. Not all of my time at the paper has been pleasantries and niceties, and the struggles have been as forming as the accomplishments. Of course, I have critiques and advice, and by no means is the paper perfect. But through it all, I am grateful for what it has given me.

And now that leads also to a more contentious topic: the wider Dartmouth campus. I have many critiques for how Dartmouth operates and the culture which it perpetuates. I have spent many of my editorials criticizing just these things, and there are many other criticisms I could level that I have not done yet in writing. However, through all of this, I am still grateful for Dartmouth. I stepped onto this campus as an unsure boy who had no idea what he wanted to study and much less of an idea of what he wanted to do with his life, and now, I believe that I am leaving as a man with a surety of how I want to live my life. While I could gripe that Dartmouth has failed me and the rest of my class in numerous ways, I cannot deny that it still has prepared me to go out into the world and succeed. Now, yes, some of the great advice and lessons I have learned on campus are from the failures of the College itself, but there is still much to glean from the College’s own failures. My critiques of the College are numerous, but they are all still from a place of love. Looking back and negotiating with this Dartmouth experience, what I conclude and wish to impart is the love and gratitude that I have for the College and its many imperfections.

I know that I am just one in a long line of many who vehemently criticize the direction of the College, and I know that assuredly this tradition of standing athwart the progression of the College will be continued by many after me. For those who take up this mantle, I beg that love for the College always remains. Seeing the reality of the current situation is a bitter pill and can lead one astray, causing one to let the imperfections of the College define it in one’s eyes. I would be lying if I did not admit that I have suffered this affliction previously; however, I still believe that in order to productively interact and help the College be what it should be, one needs to maintain a stance of love and gratitude towards it. To endlessly criticize what one hates is a cruel and harsh endeavor and will eventually corrupt those who make this the norm. Love and gratitude must always be at the forefront of this battle, and to abandon these sentiments is to abandon the battle itself.

So in conclusion, I wish to display some of my gratitude by thanking some people by name who have helped me through the thick and thin of it. Rachel and Devon—thank you for providing the example of how The Review should be run and cultivating my own abilities in the paper. Sunil—thank you for staying with it to the end, our class began as many and closes as just you and me. Matt, Lintaro, Ian, Josh, Lucas—thank you for keeping the boat afloat, and I cannot wait to see what you will all produce in the coming year. Hargrove, McGary, Lang, Nicastro, Loftus, Andrew, David—thank you for always believing in the importance of our fraternity and the value of male friendship. And finally, Father Tim—thank you for always providing me with much-needed spiritual advice and guiding my relationship with Christ. Through all her faults, Dartmouth has earned my undying gratitude, and I hope that as I depart her legacy will forever be maintained:

“Dartmouth Undying”

Dartmouth, there is no music for our singing

No words to bear the burden of our praise

Yet how can we be silent and remember

The splendor and fullness of her days

Who can forget her soft September sunsets

Who can forget those hours that passed like dreams?

The long cool shadows floating on the campus

The drifting beauty where the twilight streams?

Who can forget her sharp and misty mornings,

The clanging bells, the crunch of feet on snow,

Her sparkling noons, the crowding into Commons,

The long white afternoons, the twilight glow?

See! By the light of many thousand sunsets,

Dartmouth Undying, like a vision starts.

Dartmouth, the gleaming, dreaming walls of Dartmouth,

Miraculously builded in our hearts. —Franklin McDuffee ’21