I, For One, Think The Mocking Laughter On The Green Is A Sign To Not Take Things Too Seriously.

Oh, spring term at Dartmouth College! Everyone has a favorite special tradition during this unique little wedge between the endless nights of winter term and the sun salutations of summer term, whether it be Green Key, FoCo Maple Syrup Night, or Graduation. I have always been partial to the April mocking laughter on the Dartmouth Green — that constant, universal, unexplainable, unstoppable mean sardonic snickering that occupies the green the whole month. 

I can still recall the first time  I stepped onto the green and was overwhelmed with the mocking laughter. I was, of course, a freshman, and  I was rushing from FoCo to my 9L. I splashed through a half-frozen puddle of sludge and immediately I heard those caustic cackles that we have all come to know and, dare I say, love at Dartmouth College. 

While for many, the hideous hooting so loud it drowns out your breathing once you place one foot on the icky dead-grass-ice-slush between Main Street, Wheelock Street, and College Street anytime between February 1st and February 28th is a minor irritant, there are those of us who truly appreciate the sarcastic sneer in our ear. Call us chuckleheads. On second thought, maybe don’t.  

 We all come for different reasons. William Bunton, ‘25, tells me that sometimes he gets so bored studying in his room he wants to scream, so he comes down to the green to let the hateful hoots drown everything out. “It’s stress relief, really,” he said, wincing a little. “Usually, I’m overwhelmed with self-doubts and self-criticism. But out here, on the Green these days, there are universal voiceless doubts and criticism being thrust upon me. It’s liberating.” 

Sameera Cleveland, ‘24, told me she’s been coming even before she was admitted. “My tour guide mentioned it on my campus tour way back in 2019, and it just set the school apart. Cross the Columbia green in January, you’re lucky to even hear a soft murmuring sound. Cross the Yale green- they don’t have a green. But I come out here, and I just know I’m in the right place.” 

Listening to the impersonal biting chuckles can also be quite the social scene for a select happy few. “I’m not embarrassed to tell you I’ve met three of my last five hookups out here,” said Olaf Hardie, ‘23. “I stand here, and look contemplative- really look like I’m taking the belittling giggles personally — and let me tell you, chicks swoon. This place is a class-A protected hunting preserve, my friend.” As we spoke, I noticed a trickle of blood coming from his right ear — occupational hazard. It’s good etiquette in our circles to point that out. “No worries,” Hardie smiled. He pulled out a handkerchief.

“Check this out,” he added. “Embroidered gold thread on purple silk. Classy, right? I call this my secret weapon. Sometimes, I’ll give it to them, and let them clean me. Romantic as anything.” 

I must warn you, dear reader, I’ve never found relationships founded on this mutual misery to last much longer than the walk off the green. 

No, in my book the mocking laughter on the green is a sign to not take things too seriously.  Look, I’m the first to put up my hand and say I haven’t ever had the best springwinter term. I’ve been tense, I’ve been pushy, I’ve been overstressed and undersexed. I haven’t done half the things I meant to do, and twice as much of what I said I wouldn’t! Sometimes we get all caught up in the stress of each moment that we forget both how wonderful and blessed we truly are. You don’t need to get ground in the rat race of frat basements and party drugs and endless first dates. You can smell the flowers, laugh at the rusting keystone cans, sing in the shower, and wipe the blood from your ears with a monographed handkerchief. 

It’s time, for me at least, to step out into the world and really take in that mocking laughter before it’s gone. Maybe I’ll see you out there. 

– JR ’25