Ready for Lift Off

"These freshmen get younger looking every year/' I heard an upperclassman comment as the fall term began. Indeed, the neophyte character of the newcomers is evident in nearly everything they do, from their methods of study to their traveling together in packs to the simple and revitalizing eagerness they bring to the campus. Change is inevitable, though, and it is not long before the freshmen are realizing their potential, both as individuals and as a class, for surprising accomplishments in college and their adult lives.

Upperclassmen often do not fully realize how much they themselves have changed since the day they arrived as freshmen, but the change is visible in the way they look upon the incoming class, as the remark above illustrates. This growing and changing is the point of college, of course, yet I continue to be intrigued by how noticeably it is manifested during the four years a student spends here.

How do you identify a freshman? Look for a group of people; freshmen almost never go alone (especially to eat), and until they find their niche in the community, they can be seen attached to their newly made friends from freshman trips or from their dorm hallways. Look for the green class shirts (the closest thing to a beanie these days); freshmen would not be seen without these at football games and other group events, but by junior year the shirts have made their way to the back of the closet. Above all, look for the youthful enthusiasm and instinctive loyalty for Dartmouth that is instilled in every student beginning with freshman trips and which whips up spirit in upperclassmen where it may have begun to flag.

Enthusiasm is easy for freshmen because everything is new. They haven't had enough time or experience to acquire a feel for what will become lastingly important to them as upperclassmen, which lessons to store in their heads and which memories to discard. I remember participating with excitement in my dormitory's freshman "initiation" that first fall and planning right then not to miss it once in four years. But by the end of the year that decision looked silly next to my plans for a term abroad; I haven't been back to witness any more initiations since. Some things, however, are not looked at with enough importance in freshman year; academics are the best example that comes to mind. With the multitude of movies, lectures, shows, meetings, and parties taking place on campus every day, it is easy and tempting to leave academics low on the list of priorities. Many freshmen have problems handling these demands on their time because they have not learned to deal with all the opportunities that come with the new freedom college offers.

I recently overheard a conversation in which a perceptive friend of mine explained to a prospective student the changes that occur in just one year here. "Picture a big table with 1,000 indentations on its surface," he said. "There are 1,000 marbles rolling freely around the table. This is the situation for new students: everyone enters the College free of ties, free to move in any direction." Having every option open like that is a refreshing feeling. I recalled the invitation given to freshmen by the College Editor amidst my avalanche of pre-matriculation summer mail. In the letter accompanying the Freshman Book order form he wrote that this was the one chance we had to change our nicknames; his offer must have sounded enticing to many. Probably never again would we be so free to start over. My friend continued, "By the end of freshman year, most of those marbles that were rolling aimlessly around have settled into places on the table." But the marbles need not stay in one place for long. In four years most of them jump around as if in a game of musical chairs.

Off-campus programs, embarked upon most popularly during the middle years here, are one means of shaking the marbles loose from their places on the table. As I left campus after freshman year, I felt secure about returning the next winter and immediately rejoining the crew team; it had become so much a part of my routine freshman year that I couldn't imagine taking a break from it. But a stint in France fall term changed my attitude. I came back feeling different about my priorities and suddenly aware of the many other interests I had not explored on campus. Instead of taking action, though, I settled into a lethargic rhythm that second winter, one I suspect is characteristic of many students in those middle years. I had lost much of the innocent exuberance of freshman year, but I could not yet see and work towards what lay ahead after senior year.

It took another leave term, this one at Mystic Seaport in Connecticut, to break the rhythm and set me thinking about other interests. I returned with the feeling that if I didn't get involved fast, time would run out. On the spur of the moment I auditioned for and joined the Glee Club. I have enjoyed it thoroughly so far, and I don t regret waiting until junior year to become a part of it; it was exciting to experience something new. Others add variety to their lives by switching sports, or participating in intramurals with a new intensity. I have a friend who began writing for The Dartmouth at the end of junior year.

In college, we take in material so quickly that perspectives shift constantly. It is not impossible that a young conservative student, swayed by a powerful argument, might find himself the next day at a divestment rally on the Green. And it's not unlikely that that argument was provided by an upperclassman, someone who feels he has acquired a perspective over time. Perspective was an important word on campus last year, and I think by junior year students have seen enough angles that they can begin speaking with some authority. For those students who have remained content in their niches, junior year is when the experience begins to pay off, as the seniors relinquish their offices in most of the student organizations. Between trying out new interests and working one's way to the top of old ones, the end of junior year becomes quite hectic.

As senior year approached, I asked myself what else I had never gotten around to doing. I have wanted to try being an Undergraduate Adviser since freshman year, but my terms off-campus prevented it. I decided to apply senior year, and here I am with a hallway full of new freshmen to shepherd through their first giddy but insecure months. As many of my classmates move to Webster Avenue or off campus, I will be witnessing the freshman perspective first-hand once more. I think I know what to expect: spirit and enthusiasm unfettered by future concerns, excitement over newfound friends all tempered by a bit of anxiety and uncertainty.

I remember coming back from my freshman trip and thinking how great every moment had been and how wonderful my new friends were. Three years later, thinking about that trip still brings good feelings, but it also brings the realization that I am no longer in touch with many members of my group; we have all followed our interests in different directions, shifting priorities as the years go by. We are all going separate ways, and we never know when our interests will parallel again. The inability to make generalizations about the students here is one of the things to celebrate about Dartmouth. Some change drastically over four years; others go out the same way they came in. Either way, it is refreshing to know that at no time in four years here is it too late to pop that marble out of its hole and move it around hopefully without losing our marbles along the way.

Jock McDonald is a senior from Darien, Conn.,and is majoring in English. He is one of the Magazine's two Whitney Campbell interns.