Having returned to campus for sophomore summer, I am somewhat startled by two things. First is the absolute emptiness of campus. Although I know that almost all of my fellow rising juniors must be on campus, I can’t help but feel at times that there are fewer than 1,100 people here. On several occasions, I’ve sat on some of the higher (or lower) floors and not seen another single person for hours at a time. The main floor of Baker Library stands as an isolated outpost of some social activity in an otherwise cadaverously empty library.
I’ve spent a minimal amount of time around the Hinman Mail Center, which without the Courtyard Cafe seems completely devoid of any activity. I’ve been lucky to bump into maybe four or five people when checking my mail, if that. Although 75 percent of the student body is away from campus, and a corresponding decrease in the general loitering around campus would be expected, I find it hard to believe that what I have seen so far in the first week of sophomore summer represents even a fourth of the regular academic year’s activity. I’ve yet to determine the cause of this phenomenon. Perhaps it’s just the warm weather and sunny days that make students more languid and less engaged with the campus around them. Maybe clubs and groups have further consolidated and coalesced into smaller, hybrid groups, still struggling with participation and attendance despite their coalitions.
The second observation I have made is the stark contrast in dorm life. As a transfer student, I essentially had my freshman year this past year, although I am technically a sophomore. The floor was outgoing, and just about everyone made some effort to talk with everyone else. There were floor meetings, and people went out to eat together. There was solidarity in living in such close proximity to other people. Friendships naturally formed. Older students always told me that the freshman floor is something special, but I suppose I took their words for granted. I thought they were being melodramatic and overly nostalgic.
The truth, though, is they were right. The dynamic in my current dorm is vastly different from my first-year experiences at Dartmouth. This was to be expected, but the degree of change is what I find startling. No longer do our doors have signs, and I’ve yet to receive any contact from, or even meet, my UGA. I essentially know no one living around me, except the few people I knew prior to moving in. The lack of signs on doors exacerbates this problem. I could be living close to acquaintances I know and yet I’d have no idea of it unless I happen to bump into them in the hall.

I’ve said hello to the people that I’ve happened to bump into while entering or leaving my room, but to really engage in a conversation with these strangers on your floor seems taboo. As a friend put it over dinner, “People don’t want to be as social on their floors after freshman year because they’ve already got their friends and social lives.” And I suppose to some degree that rings true, people do have friends in many venues aside from their dorms by the time they are rising juniors. But at the same time, I think it’s largely a shame that the dorms aren’t at least slightly more social and that campus seems so utterly empty in the summer. I, for one, will be glad when the weather begins to change and 3,000 fellow students again swoop down upon Hanover. They may mostly be strangers, but somehow they help make Dartmouth feel more complete.