reflections(on)dartmouth

It's been a while since I've written, hasn't it, my faithful followers? I've learned in this past month and a half perhaps more than I had during all of my time at Dartmouth before then. And, if you'll lend me your patience, I'll keep you company this summer with more tales of my adventures. First, I suppose I should tell you what I'll be doing this summer. Most of my friends are working steady jobs, going on FSPs or LSAs, staying at Dartmouth, or holding internships. I'm going on road trips and taking tickets at concerts. I'm planning on having the Jack Kerouac summer I've always wanted.

In this past month or so, I've realized a lot of things about life. Namely, that we're in it -- yes, people call college an idealized version of the 'real world', a bubble, etc. But when it comes down to it, we are the vanguard; we are on the very cusp of experience; we, perhaps more than anyone else, have control over everything and anything that we want to do. I know I've written this time and again, but I believe it now in a new way: we can be anyone; we can do anything. I was supposed to spend this summer in Michigan with my best friend -- but, as I know now, best friends, and the plans you make with them, come and go. At the end of April I was forced into a sort of freedom I didn't think I was ready for, but that I realize now I sorely needed. I couldn't imagine my experience at Dartmouth continuing without the person I loved most in the world by my side; now I see that I should've listened to my own advice: Dartmouth is what you make it. It's not any one person, or any one track; it's a combination of disparate experiences that you have to unite into a meaningful narrative.

From the end of April until finals week, I didn't do homework. This is not an exaggeration -- with the exception of writing one paper, I literally did not study. I wanted to, sort of, and I tried to, sort of, but in the end, my backpack stayed in my room and swimsuit stayed on my back. Each day seemed more beautiful than the last: watching the sun piercing through the guitar-shaped clouds as I laid on my back on the Green, feeling the cool, teal water slipping over my fingers each time I dipped my paddle into the Connecticut, walking down Main Street at five in the morning with bags full of chips and candy in my hands, doing cartwheels on the Green by the light of the endless illuminated blanket of stars; dancing from sunset until the early hours of morning; sitting on a roof and eating dinner as the people below went about their lives in a whole other world; getting to know all the people I wish I'd known, and meeting all the new ones I never thought I would. I can't remember feeling more happy and free than in those days when spending time with exciting, interesting new people was more important than going to class or sitting in the library; when the answer to every invitation was a resounding "Yes!" no matter what time of day or night; when I realized that when I thought I was most lost, I was surrounded by people I loved all along.

This of course meant that come finals time, I faced an insurmountable challenge. I didn't get more than three hours of sleep in a night (and most of those hours happened between 5 and 8 am) for over a week -- all I did was work, making up for the incredible amount of time I had spent neglecting assignments that had accumulated more rapidly than I thought possible. I remember one night, standing outside my dorm at three in the morning after someone had pulled the fire alarm; I was surrounded by shivering hallmates in pajamas, and yet I was wide awake in my street clothes, only halfway through the six essays I had to write for my Physics class due at noon the next day. I remember setting up in the library at 8 pm, the night before my Psychology final, not having studied at all before then, and wandering back to my dorm when the library closed, trying to keep my eyes open and learn thirteen more chapters of material before 8 am.

And yet, I don't know which choice to advocate for -- of course I could've thrown all of my negative energy into studying and done well in all my classes, and continued on my way as I have always done; but for some reason, for the first time that I can remember, that just didn't seem like the right thing to do. I needed that time away from the responsibilities of school and more time immersed in the joy of other people and the gorgeous outdoors. So now, here I sit on the leather couch in my house in Maryland, trying to think of some grand, unifying statement that could make this all make sense. Only the good ones say yes; don't be afraid if everything changes; embrace the possibility of not-knowing; don't spend time on anything that isn't worth remembering. And just because things aren't the same, doesn't mean that they were worse the way they were before -- you'd never be here if you weren't there first. So, spend your summer well: take time to do the things you love, with the people you love, because coming to Dartmouth will be one of those times where everything changes.