On a gray Friday afternoon in Hanover, a small crowd gathered outside the Hanover Inn. No music, no speeches, just signs and quiet resolve. Some held cardboard cutouts of Donald Trump and Jeffrey Epstein. Others clutched hand-painted slogans like “Believe the women” and “Snow is better than ICE.” It wasn’t a parade. It wasn’t a rally. It was a warning.
The protest came just one day after the White House reached out to nine universities, including Dartmouth, asking them to sign a new agreement called the Compact for Academic Excellence in Higher Education. The deal promises federal perks in exchange for compliance with a set of educational demands laid out by the Trump administration. The language in the compact is vague, but the implications are clear enough. Critics say it’s a leash. A way to rein in independent institutions and tie them to a political agenda.
College President Sian Leah Beilock sent out a campus-wide email earlier in the week. She didn’t say whether Dartmouth would sign. She did say the College would never compromise its academic freedom. That’s been the line for years. But with federal funding on the table, and pressure mounting from Washington, some folks aren’t so sure. That’s why they showed up on the sidewalk. That’s why they keep showing up every week.
One of them was Megan Culp, a retired nurse from White River Junction. She called the compact “madness.” Said it felt like Dartmouth was being held hostage. “It’s your future,” she told a student walking by. “We’re retired and we’re feeling it. But it’s going to become a bigger impact on kids your age.”
Another voice in the crowd was Theresa Symancyk, a former elementary school teacher. She’s worried about research funding. Said she’s seen too many breakthroughs get shelved because the money dried up. “All the amazing work on cancer, on rare diseases, it’s all getting cut,” she said. “And now they want to control what gets studied and what doesn’t.”
Jared Sullivan, a state rep from Grafton County, was there too. He’s running for Senate. Held a sign that read “Snow is better than ICE.” He said the protest wasn’t just about Dartmouth. It was about due process. About the Constitution. “When you deport people without hearings, you’re taking away those same rights from citizens,” he said. “It’s all connected.”
That’s the thread tying these weekly demonstrations together. They’re not just about one policy or one deal. They’re about a pattern. A slow erosion of democratic norms. A creeping sense that decisions are being made behind closed doors, with little regard for the people they affect. Folks in the Upper Valley have been gathering like this for months. Some are part of grassroots groups like Upper Valley Indivisible. Others just show up when they can. No one’s getting paid. No one’s handing out flyers. It’s just neighbors looking out for each other.
Molly Castaldo, who works at Tuck, said she’s worried about the Constitution. She’s not a lawyer, but she reads the news. She sees the signs. “I think the current administration is just violating the Constitution,” she said. “And I think it’s important for citizens to demonstrate, to show that they are concerned and want to protect our rights.”
There’s a kind of quiet grit to these gatherings. No shouting. No chants. Just people standing their ground. It’s not flashy, but it’s steady. And that steadiness matters. Especially in a place like Hanover, where the College looms large and decisions ripple out into the community. When Dartmouth moves, the Upper Valley feels it. That’s why folks like Culp and Symancyk keep showing up. They know the stakes. They’ve seen what happens when people stay quiet.
It’s not clear yet what Dartmouth will do. The administration hasn’t made a public decision. But the pressure is building. Students are talking. Faculty are watching. And the community is making itself heard. That’s the point of these weekly protests. Not to change minds overnight, but to remind the College that it’s not alone. That it’s part of something bigger. That its choices matter.
In a time when headlines come and go in a flash, these demonstrations are a kind of slow journalism. A way of bearing witness. Of saying, “We saw this. We stood here. We didn’t look away.” It’s not glamorous. It’s not easy. But it’s necessary. Because democracy doesn’t just live in courtrooms and Capitol buildings. It lives on sidewalks. In cardboard signs. In the voices of retired teachers and state reps and healthcare workers who still believe in something better.
As the sun dipped behind the Inn and the crowd began to thin, one protester folded up her sign and tucked it under her arm. “See you next week,” she said. No fanfare. No fuss. Just a promise to keep showing up. That’s how change begins. Not with a bang, but with a presence. With people who refuse to be invisible. Who refuse to be quiet. Who refuse to let Dartmouth make this decision in the dark.
