Conversation with a Son
NOT long ago I attended a dinner meeting of the Dartmouth alumni club in my hometown. During the course of the dinner, the talk inevitably turned to the prospect of one's son or daughter matriculating at the College. I remember saying something to the effect that if I had a son ready to go to college now, I don't think I would advise him to go to Dartmouth.
A brief silence fell over those seated close enough to have heard my remark. Though nothing was said directly at that point, I remember having the distinct feeling that I had just committed an offense equivalent to treading on someone's 90-year-old grandmother or questioning the Holy Trinity.
It was •a reaction for which I was totally unprepared. After all, I thought, what could be so shocking about a black Dartmouth graduate expressing doubt about whether he would advise his son to attend the College? Why should it be surprising that a black graduate would hesitate to advise his son to attend a school which, though by no means the most racist institution in the country and in many ways better than most, still has faculty members who automatically label blacks as "C" students the moment they walk through the door of the classroom? (Yes, they exist at Dartmouth, or did when I was an undergraduate. One professor who I believe is still on the faculty once told a black undergraduate friend of mine that he didn't think blacks had what it took to cut it at Dartmouth.) Nor should it be surprising that a black graduate would question whether his son should attend a school which, though certainly way ahead of many institutions in recruiting minority students, nevertheless continues to maintain a College disciplinary committee that views the almost criminal activities occasionally perpetrated by the "brothers" of Fraternity Row as nothing more than youthful excesses, while often judging similar or lesser offenses by "brothers" of a different sort (namely, blacks) as cause for suspension or dismissal.
And why should a black graduate advise his son to attend a school which, despite having made a commitment to the education of Native Americans that is unique among major American universities, nevertheless went through considerable anguish before deciding that Indian students had the simple right not to see their heritage and tradition paraded around at football games amidst the drunkenness, raucous laughter, and crude parodies?
As one who has paid his dues and graduated from Dartmouth with honors, I believe I have earned the right to raise these questions. It's not that Dartmouth is less special to me than to any other alumnus. It's just that I am perhaps not as fervent — or blind — in my devotion to the College as some of the alumni I've met. I reserve the right to criticize. I also reserve the right to question whether my son should go there.
I thought a lot about this issue in the weeks following that alumni meeting. Can a black Dartmouth graduate, I asked myself, in good conscience advise his son to go to Dartmouth? Finally, I arrived at an answer which I believe accurately reflects my own experience at Dartmouth (I can speak for no other), and which I hope is the kind of honest advice I would give to a son of mine who was. considering attending the College today.
"Yes, son, go to Dartmouth, because it is in many ways a remarkable college, perhaps even a superior one. But, go there with the understanding that this is an imperfect world, and that despite the glowing descriptions you may have read in the College handbook or heard from some alumni, Dartmouth is as flawed as any other institution in America.
"Yes, son, go to Dartmouth, secure in the knowledge that you will receive an education second to none, and be exposed to ideas and philosophies that will broaden your horizons and enrich your life for years to come. But, go there also in the full knowledge that there will be times when your efforts to learn at Dartmouth will be thwarted by the condescension of some professors who fail to challenge you to rise to the height of your ability, and by the closed minds of those who refuse even to recognize your ability in its own right.
"Yes, son, go to Dartmouth, for its still nights and crisp autumn mornings have a peculiar way of sinking into the soul and fostering a kind of self-reflection that is both sobering and exhilarating. But, go there also knowing that there will be some occasions when you will feel as if you are the only black face in a hostile, white encampment, occasions when the fact that you are different from your white counterparts will be made painfully clear to you by all those around you — teachers, administrators, students, even the townspeople of Hanover.
"I say all this, son, as a Dartmouth graduate who still has some very good memories of the College, a place where I formed lasting friendships and made tremendous personal growth. But, I would be remiss in my responsibility to you if I did not advise you that there are things about Dartmouth that are not mentioned in "Men of Dartmouth," if I did not inform you of the simple truth that racism exists, and has always existed, at Dartmouth.
"It disturbs me to have to say this, son, to have to acknowledge that the power of racism in this country is such that it reaches into even our most enlightened institutions. It especially disturbs me to have to say it of Dartmouth. Perhaps by the time you become a parent the world will have changed, and you will be spared from having to make this same speech to your son. I sincerely hope so, for Dartmouth's sake as well as yours."
Larry Conley is the editor of Connection magazine in Memphis.
