Ah, Hanover in autumn: Leaves turning color, days getting shorter, some people like it, some people don't; whatever. The really defining characteristic of the season is the annual half-assed examination of the 'Dartmouth Greek System,' a tradition most blatantly perpetuated by the fresh new faces on our campus and by its publications. The former seek to quickly and painlessly erect some semblance of social structure and hierarchy in this weirdly not-high-school environment, while the latter (along with the rest of the student body) tend to capitalize on the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to fuck with people's minds. Voices of authority, from a variety of venues, alternately extol and condemn the fraternity dominated social scene as Dartmouth's only savior or its disgraceful downfall. I am not convinced it is either.

A few weeks ago, I had the dubious honor of participating in a Coed, Fraternity and Sorority (CFS) event. I served valiantly as a member of an eight-person panel, comprised of Greek and unaffiliated students alike, designed to give sophomores a somewhat balanced and unbiased perspective on Greek life in general and the rush process in particular. The event was, in any measurable sense, a success; upperclassmen joked and smirked, imparting their wisdom in the traditionally incoherent and mystical manner; sophomores left more or less exactly as confused as they had been upon arrival. But in the midst of all of this revered Dartmouth tradition, I noticed that one very central piece of the puzzle simply did not fit--Namely that, to a man, the panel spoke not of the great import of their decision to join XYZ house or to skip the Greek experience altogether, but instead settled upon a general consensus of, 'not everything you hear about the houses is true,' 'don't worry about it,' and, my favorite piece of advise in any situation, to 'just be yourself' (presumably, the socially and physically malodorous just go down with the ship).

Again, this cannot have been very comforting to a group of sophomores who were most likely looking for some concrete advice and guidance rather than the smug, half-nostalgic musings of a bunch of seniors, but there was a certain truth in the outcome nonetheless. Dartmouth can seem a very segregated and judgmental community at times; after all, does not every publication on campus incessantly bombard the undergraduate community with some version of this truth? Yet it is equally clear that not everyone shares this sentiment; and thus I come finally to my point: The fact that a 'CFS Panel,' meant to formalize the potentially confusing and nerve-racking rush procedure, served mainly to downplay its importance and abstract its significance appealed to me quite a bit as a sort of metaphor, such as it is, for the "Dartmouth Experience." Age and experience at Dartmouth, as with the rest of life (probably?), bring with them a sort of certainty and confidence; yet these are not so much derived from a higher understanding of The Way Things Work, as they are a product of some more private realization that those Things Don't Really Work at All.

Of course, now I am probably getting a bit ahead of myself, so I should turn to something more concrete. None of this is to say that I see all Greek houses as identical, or that rush decisions cannot have a significant impact on your undergraduate experience. I do, however, feel that Dartmouth concentrates too heavily upon creating boundaries and accentuating differences. The CFS panelists all openly described and praised the level of diversity in their respective houses, but I also know that in the weeks and days before rush, many sophomores develop very specific ideas about with which houses they do and do not wish to affiliate themselves. The result is an apparent paradox, in which some portion of our college fervently pretends to believe that our social system is beautifully balanced, and another that it is brutally segregated (and at least one other that just doesn't care).

I can't pretend to know where the truth lies. Like everything else in life, the Greek system is exactly what you make of it; within those criteria, the possibilities are endless. Talk of 'social capital' and its ilk, however, is always hilariously misguided, and only perpetuates what can be a regrettably black-and-white depiction of our social scene. And so a challenge to you opinion writers, in all your many forms, might be to reject the hundreds of contrived stereotypes, upon which some Dartmouth students seem exclusively to diet, in favor of the more universal view that there is some degree of truth to every perspective. The most important perspective, of course, is inevitably your own; so while I cannot always recommend that people 'just be themselves' I highly encourage them to 'just think, themselves.'