The Undergraduate Chair

THEY can lay out a baseball diamond, build a batting cage and pitching mounds, construct a 150-yard banked wooden track, provide weight-throwing areas, dig high-jump and pole-vault pits, net off a large lacrosse practice area, and still have room left over for a large span of bleachers and a golf driving-range in vast Leverone Field House.

But the versatile million-dollar structure has not seen a sweat shirt, a football, or even a cleated shoe this year. Instead the Field House, outfitted with plush floor-to-ceiling, off-white and gold curtains, an impressive teakwood paneled backdrop, a commodious raised stage, and a sea of more than 5,000 meticulously arranged folding chairs, has been temporarily converted into the College auditorium, and as such has provided a lavish background for the major events of the first month of the school year.

The 197th Convocation of the College took place in Levrone on September 23, and about two weeks later, on successive evenings, the 70th Annual Dartmouth Night and the First Annual Peter, Paul and Mary Concert were staged beneath the poured concrete block dome.

Taken together the three events personify the Dartmouth experience, stressing academic attainment and intellectual curiosity, emphasizing the fondness for and perpetuation of tradition, encouraging class spirit and athletic success, and illustrating the social pleasures and weekend alternatives available in the Wilderness.

Many called it the best Convocation they had attended, citing its organization, its pageantry and its messages. But perhaps the most impressive part of the program was President Dickey himself, delivering "A Word on Behalf of Ideals" in the forcefully dramatic, theatrical, yet sincere and earnest style that is uniquely his.

Mr. Dickey restated the College's dual commitment to students to advance "both your personal fulfillment and the wellbeing of all men." "The way individuals learn to take themselves," he said, "and the use they choose to make of their talents can mean either a terrible or a wonderful difference to everybody within reach."

In encouraging undergraduates to contribute to the world around them, Mr. Dickey was eloquent and effective. "Danger for danger, a man who would serve good causes greatly with mind as well as heart must have more to offer in the councils of men than merely the courage of his convictions. I suggest, therefore, that as you go about having your say you hold yourself to the hard discipline of having something to say. By so doing no great cause will suffer and your learning will prosper."

Unlike past years, when the Convocation Address seemed directed, not at the immediate audience of students and faculty, but at distant contributing alumni and the college administrators, Mr. Dickey spoke this time to the undergraduates, about their assumption of social responsibility in the past and their increasingly active participation in the future. It was a personal talk, meaningful and memorable.

And, for a senior embarking upon the final year in Hanover, Mr. Dickey's familiar closing statement of those "three different but closely intertwined roles to play" seemed to take on added significance. They had been trite, perhaps, in the first years at Dartmouth, but when heard for the last time, with more college experience behind than adventure ahead, it was a fitting statement of our position. "You are the stuff of an institution," he reminded us, "and what you are it will be."

Undergraduate Council President Angus S. King Jr. '66 also discussed the relationship between men in his Convocation Address. But while Mr. Dickey emphasized the relationship between the individual and the world outside, King dwelt upon the individual and the college community.

King outlined a concept of community with two components: common purpose and communication. "The unusual nature of our common purpose ... is the fact that we are all here to become more independent and that independent thought is indeed our common cause. Consequently, in a group whose underlying purpose is essentially centrifugal, communication in the highest sense becomes the only hope of maintaining a viable community."

The three areas in which communication must be cultivated, according to King, are between the student and his classmates, the faculty, and the administration. "We should not have to fear," he concluded, "the half-witted aloofness of those who are 'cool,' nor rebuff from a professor who has no time for his students, nor reduction to a number by a faceless bureaucracy."

Since Convocation the ideas discussed by the President of the College and the President of the Undergraduate Council have found expression on campus through a significant increase in the scope of student government. Both the greater "say" in affairs which Mr. Dickey advocated and the closer relationship and trust between students and the administration which King proposed have, in part, come to pass during the first weeks of the term.

A striking example of increased student responsibility in government is the recent ruling of the Committee on Administration which provides the Undergraduate Council Judiciary Committee with the final say in imposing sentences for college infractions.

In the past all UGC-JC decisions were reviewed by the Committee on Administration, a faculty committee, and could be changed by that body. Under the present system only cases involving probation, suspension or separation are brought to the committee's attention. If it feels, after the UGC-JC describes the proceedings and its verdict, that the JC should reconsider, it asks it to do so and may suggest areas of renewed study. But the decision reached by the JC is binding and cannot be altered by the faculty or administration.

The new spirit of Palaeopitus, the executive committee of student government, is an intangible confidence between the members and the deans with whom they deal. Much of this closer relationship stems from individual personalities and a willingness to exploit a power potential that has long existed. This year, Deans are consulting Palaeopitus frequently instead of arbitrarily dealing with the problem themselves.

In addition, communication between present and future organs of student government has been increased by an improved record-keeping system that will enable the fruits of this year's labor to be passed on in orderly fashion to succeeding groups, thus avoiding repetition and confusion.

It rained on Friday, October 8, and they moved Dartmouth Night from the steps of Dartmouth Hall to the stage of Leverone Field House. More than 2500 people trudged through the downpour to attend, and, in spite of a new location, Dartmouth Night 1965 was a decided success.

The speeches were audible, the singing of the Glee Club was outstanding, the audience, usually forced to stand packed together on the hill below Dartmouth Row craning its neck, straining its ears and tiring quickly, was seated and comfortable, and, therefore, more enthusiastic.

The coach and captain evoked warm response with confident statements of victory, the cheerleaders ran through a series of short Wah-Hoo-Wahs, and the Band played a medley of Indian football songs while the undergraduates sang and the many dates at their sides giggled at the strangeness of it all. Nothing like that ever happens on weekends at Vassar, Skidmore or, maybe, even Harvard.

Fittingly the rain slackened enough to permit the lighting of the big bonfire erected by the Class of 1969, and through the drizzle the wind-swept flames danced red-hot into the dark sky. It all worked, and the Green beat Penn.

For their diligence and teamwork the freshmen, a gearful, energetic lot (as the 100-plus Pea Green football aspirants indicate) shed their beanies at an earlier date than any other class in recorded history. With only four, weeks gone in their first term the '69ers whipped the condescending upperclassmen in the tug of war and dragged the rope down to the football practice on Chase Field to show their prize to Coach Blackman, one of their staunchest supporters.

Fifteen minutes before show time on Saturday, October 9, every one of the 5,500 seats in the Field House was occupied and scores of folks jammed the entrances. Peter, Paul and Mary, at $2.50 and $3.50 a chair, had filled the place as Convocation and Dartmouth Night, both free for the asking, could not.

It was a big-time operation. Only 32 press passes were issued, and the distant Manchester Union Leader received as many, two, as The Dartmouth. Special spotlights and sound equipment were brought in, a bus, serving as a dressing room, was obtained, and posters commemorating the event were hawked for one dollar apiece.

Was it worth it? Most said yes, excited by the immediacy of such topflight personalities as the two bearded men and the blonde lady, and inspired by the electric charge that accompanies live performances by talented people. "A great event" someone said.

But when you consider it for a moment, the arrival of high-caliber entertainers should not be a once-in-a-college-lifetime event, but should, instead be a regular occurrence, a normal part of the social structure. Dartmouth is a firstclass college and the Hanover area demonstrated that it has the means to make nearly any promotional endeavor profitable.

The success of the Peter, Paul and Mary show should prove that Dartmouth can support and should be given comparable entertainment on a more consistent basis - especially since it is equipped with a Field House that can be transformed into a large, first-class auditorium.

The remodeled interior of Rollins Chapel, with seats now facing away from themain entrance, photographed when Sunday services were resumed on September 26.

UGC President Angus King '66 speakingat Convocation exercises in September.

Dartmouth's new press box towers above packed stands for the Pennsylvania game.