The Undergraduate Chair
THIS month a new and controversial pre-Rush program will enable freshmen to tour fraternities and get their bearings before Rush begins next fall.
Spring Visitations was passed by the Interfraternity Council after heated debate and a close (13-to-9) vote by the fraternity presidents. At the beginning of spring term every freshman will be mailed a randomly selected list of four fraternities, courtesy of the Dartmouth computer. On Saturday afternoon, April 8, any freshman will be able to walk into any fraternity listed on his computer ticket, take the tour, talk to the Brotherhood, and solve - at least in part - the tantalizing mystery of what goes on behind the doors of fraternity row.
No hostesses, guestbooks, coats and ties or gladhanding. Just a visit, and then another on Sunday when the '7os can visit any and all fraternities.
For years near) y everyone has agreed that the traditional four-day Rush in the fall leaves something to be desired. The pressure - on both the brothers and the rushees - is terrific. Brotherhoods stay up all night watching slide shows of the evening's turnout, rushees sit in their dorms awaiting the fatal knock of the axman, and after two or three nights of "How did you spend your summer?" and "Well, how's Rush going?" both sides are ready to drop.
In addition, rushees have four nights or less to find the Right House, a decision that seems to swing on luck, intuition, hearsay, and who-do-you-know. At a Big Ten multiversity, the choice is fairly academic, depending on whether the student is a football player, WASP, or whatever. But at Dartmouth it matters. Hence students cannot rush until their sophomore year, and the fraternities are placed off limits to prevent the cronyism of dirty rash.
But Rush is still hectic, and finding the Right Fraternity still a chancy thing. The obvious solution would be to extend Rush a few nights. The IFC considered this last year, and its Rush Committee Chairman Michael J. Merenda '67 came up with a plan that would add one more night. Which might have eased the pressure somewhat, but that one extra night conflicted with a religious holiday, Thayer Hall's meal schedule, a program of Freshman Week seminars, and ultimately with the IFC, which canned it.
Undaunted, Merenda and the fraternity pledge captains huddled and came up with Spring Visitations as an alternative, to "open up the fraternity system." It ran into strong opposition from those who charged that, in the first place, the fraternity brothers would be forced to put on a good face twice a year (repairing, painting, fumigating), and that secondly, once the brothers had eyed the new crop of potential rushees, dirty rush would run wild as houses sought to protect themselves.
This remains to be proved, however, and Merenda argued that the planned casualness of the system - rubbernecking freshmen wandering in with computer cards clutched in their hands - would dissuade any covetous notions on the part of the Bro'. Besides, it's a long, long time from April to September.
Finally, the IFC was swayed by freshman class president David M. Strohm '70. Citing a strong peagreen response in favor of the visitation proposal, Strohm pointed out that "freshmen will be investing three years and over $BOO in a fraternity, and for this I think we deserve a better look at the system before join- ing."
Many upperclassmen remain skeptical, and The Dartmouth editorialized gloom and doom. Nonetheless, Spring Visitations is a worthwhile attempt to solve the Rush predicament and may turn out to be an institution.
In other fraternity news, Delta Upsilon, which went local last fall, ended its search for a new name (candidates included "Tirdent," "Chequers," and "The Pub") by christening itself Foley House, in honor of Professor Emeritus Allen R. Foley '2O. Sigma Phi Epsilon also went local, and is now Sigma Theta Epsilon - either way, it's still Sig Ep. Twelve of the 24 fraternities on campus are now local.
The most transformed fraternity on campus this year is probably Delta Kappa Epsilon. Its household name and majestic national affiliation nothwithstanding, the last decade had seen DKE have some rather lean years. The result had been weak Rushes, and the weak Rushes had perpetuated more lean years.
Last year the circle was broken when 17 sophomores with ideas had rushed in a bloc, made a deal, were all sunk and set about mobilizing the Dekes into an active fraternity.
They came through. The fraternity trend this year is for more varied and more intellectual (creeping weenyism to some) activities. Chi Phi, for instance, recently published a literary magazine. At present, the two fraternities with the most progressive, avant-garde reputa- tions are Foley House and DKE, and DKE has gone all out with symposia (on Black Power), films from the Underground, and most recently, a large-scale art show, judged by New England artist Paul Sample. The amazing thing was the great number of townspeople who contributed their art along with the students'; a professor's wife won first prize from Mr. Sample.
It was an interesting, well-attended show. DKE has emerged from anonymity, and its old problems seem to be over.
WINTER term this year in Hanover was bone-chilling, endless, and altogether typical, with rather more snow than usual, and nights as black as outer space. Everybody caught cold, skied, and studied. But during exam week, the weather suddenly turned warm, clear, and absolutely gorgeous. Suddenly there it was, great wafting breaths of warm air, fluffy summer clouds over the green, and sunshine that began melting the snow down the storm drains, and thawed the walks to mush. The 1902 Room changed from a cozy, toasty hall of learning to a dim and musty museum, with the cur- tains fluttering in the breeze, and tempting sunshine just outside.
The ultimate result of this false spring was one of the best riots in years. A small knot of students began to lob snowballs on Tuck Drive, and were soon joined by another, and a small battle ensued in the sunshine, in full view of the library. One by one, students ensconced in the 1902 Room decided that they would be fresher if they took a five-minute break, and with a creaking of chairs, they went out on the warm steps to watch the show.
The snowballs began to whiz back and forth across Main Street now. The snow was wet and good for packing even with bare hands, and everyone threw one or two - for old time's sake. There were noisy charges and countercharges across the roadway, but the cars kept getting in the way. The only solution was to throw at the cars, which they did, the cars coming like lambs to the slaughter in a blizzard of snowballs. There were now several hundred eager punters on Main Street, and when a fresh contingent arrived from Richardson and the Fayerweathers, they all began to march downtown with a holiday air, still pitching snowballs.
Soon a thick gauntlet stretched from Baker Library down Main Street all the way to the Inn Corner, while another gang swarmed on the green in pitched battle, and reinforcements continued to pour in.
Down Main Street strode an unperturbed Dean Seymour in Bermudas and Keds, detouring traffic away from the front. The crowd had gathered around the stoplight, backed up onto the ramparts of College Hall, and was still throwing wild. Hanover merchants looked worriedly out their doors.
Seymour calmly directed the hapless cars to safety. A snowball splashed at his feet. Then another. "Hey, that's the Dean," someone said, crestfallen.
"Hey, that's the Dean," said someone else, and lobbed a snowball.
The scene, as Dean Seymour stood stoically midst shot and shell, resembled Shirley Jackson's "Lottery" more than anything else, but he took it with grace, though not amusement. Finally he withdrew from the center of attention. By this time the town police were detouring traffic around the center of Hanover.
For over an hour the skies of Hanover were filled with snowballs; no one was eager to return to musty books and notecards just yet. At least half the College was there at some time - those who weren't were either buried in the stacks, skimming Frisbees down at the Wigs, or shooting pinball at the Indian Shop.
On the debit side, there was a fair amount of damage in broken windows, especially in South Massachusetts Hall, the snowball target of the East. Not to mention the wear and tear on the drivers' nerves, and on Dean Seymour.
But with peace restored, everybody agreed that the riot's effect was salutary. ("I wouldn't even call it a riot," said Dean Seymour later, and he should know.) It was back to Chapter 143 of Basic Principles of Paleozoic Ooze (4th Edition), but once again it was demonstrated that pressure and super-competitiveness have no grave effect on students they just punt harder.
Michael Chu '68 (third from right), general chairman of The Great Day, with associate directors David N. Kinsey '69 (left) and Timothy J. Stein '69, and the chairmenfrom (I to r) Colby Jr., Mt. Holyoke, Smith, and Wellesley.
