Carving Out Spaces

When President Kemeny approached the podium at the Commencement of the class of '79, I waited in anticipation for the familiar salutation. Suddenly applause rippled through the audience, and many members of the graduating class and their guests rose to their feet with his opening words: "Women and Men of Dartmouth." From freshman Convocation onward, we had all been nurtured on Kemeny's "Men and Women of Dartmouth," but now another pattern was broken, another practice questioned.

This is precisely what Libbey Roberts '79 had asked the president to do in a private letter: to break the confinements of a habitual cliche and thereby call attention to the people who were actually present — women and men. Libbey knows that as Dartmouth women, we are conscious of our relative numbers and relative newness in Hanover. In the three years I have been here, women have gone through the process of searching for their identity, trying to find their own space, and striving to be part of the "family." If the process has not always been easy, it has not been without humor. We have realized that we can be "Women of Dartmouth."

When I first met the Dartmouth "family," I understood what was meant by a three-to-one ratio in a traditionally male school. My mother and I went to a summer barbecue for freshmen, to discover that mother-daughter combinations were a rarity. Everyone else was there with Dad, class of '49.

My freshman trip continued this indoctrination into "family" composition and tradition. There were ten men and five women in my hiking group in the Presidentials, and the women were serenaded up Moosilauke by rugby and other songs: "Dartmouth's in town again, run girls, run . I hardly knew what rugby was, but the message was clear. If the men were being indoctrinated in how to behave at Dartmouth, the women were learning what to expect.

When half of our class rushed fraternities in the spring, many female friends were left holding fraternity hostess flowers. As the flowers wilted, they wondered where they fit into this whole scheme. We faced the unhappy realization that Dartmouth lacked women's groups. With the flux of the Dartmouth plan and the constant shuffle of residents in Hanover, groups play an essential role in providing some sense of stability and security here.

Over these past three years, women's organizations have flourished on campus, oriented along different political and social lines. On one end of the political spectrum is Dartmouth's Women's Alliance (formerly Women-at-Dartmouth), a feminist organization. (Did they call themselves Women-at-Dartmouth because they were here at the school but did not feel part of the school?) At the other end of the spectrum one finds Dartmouth's sororities, Sigma Kappa and Kappa Kappa Gamma, two social organizations. Now an all- female secret senior society named Cobra has even "surfaced." There were no models for these women's organizations to follow, so growing pains were often severe.

Women's experiences have differed here as they created new traditions and carved out new spaces. Sometimes carving out new spaces was more theoretical than real; for example, neither sorority has a house yet, though they still have their weekly "houseless" house meetings.

One space that has been set aside by the College for women is 1 Occom Ridge, a house located off fraternity row across from Aquinas House. Originally called the Women's House, it is now home to nine upperclass women. When I told people that I was moving into 1 Occom, I discovered a multitude of myths surrounding the dorm. Some have it billed as a House of Feminists, others a House of Ill Repute. (At Dartmouth, I don't know which is worse.) The truth is, you can't put a label on nine women, and the residents of the house have created their own traditions.

One Occom is still a rarity, for in a campus sea of fraternities it remains the only house that is just open for women. It presents evidence, though, that camaraderie grows quickly in a house, and that women's groups, whether organized or loosely knit, need spaces of their own. I especially realized this need when I stayed at Hanover after finals last fall to finish a paper. While from my typewriter I watched the school transform into a playground, I saw that there were not many women around to enjoy the relaxed atmosphere. Many men had moved into their fraternities, but most women seemed banished from the kingdom.

Another place where camaraderie thrives is on the playing field, and Dartmouth's women's sports have made great strides in the past three years. I have watched the field hockey team mature into national competitors and the basketball team develop into a real powerhouse. And this past spring, two clubs — soccer and ice hockey — were named varsity sports, propelled by Title IX and recommended by the tremendous support they had received from student participants and coaches.

When I took a pad of copy paper to begin writing this article on being a woman of Dartmouth in search of identity, space, and a sense of belonging, I promised to bring the pad back "filled with words of wisdom." My classmate and fellow undergraduate editor stopped me. "You can't have wisdom without understanding," he said. "Well, I'll bring it back filled with words of understanding," I answered. "But you can't have understanding without compassion."

I hope that these three years have taught women to have compassion for other women who have taken different paths in striving to achieve equality for women here. Some have shouted and carried placards; some have issued personal appeals; some have struggled on the field; some have gained recognition in the classroom; and some have been outstanding as class leaders. Yet, all have contributed to making women a part of Dartmouth.

I also hope that these years have taught women to have compassion for the men who may not understand our need for taking these steps toward equality. Listening and trying to understand the feelings of others seem proper goals for our community. The recent national press coverage we have received impels this approach.

Kemeny's gesture on graduation day was a stroke at once of compassion, understanding, and wisdom. It's a recognition that women are an integral part of the Dartmouth community, a realization that we are "Women of Dartmouth."