t’s fucking Dartmouth. Everybody lives in dorms and shitty off-campus housing. We all drink Keystone and eat DDS. People wear sweatpants everywhere. This class divide thing is a load of shit. I’ve never been anywhere where the amount of money people have is less relevant than this campus.”
Sorry anonymous person who took my survey at 12:52 am, but the 135 passionate responses that accrued within 12 hours (during the last week of classes no less) seem to state otherwise. Class divide does exist at Dartmouth; it is clearly a problem when so many students respond positively to the question: “Has anyone at Dartmouth ever made you feel uncomfortable about your own socioeconomic class (accidently or purposefully)?”
People’s definitions and distinctions of class vary widely, and the hardest thing to agree on seems to be where “middle class” begins and ends. There’s no single accepted definition for what constitutes the “middle class,” but consideration of certain facts can offer a clearer perspective. The median household income in the United States in 2007 was $50,740 (the mean was $69,193). The 2009 federal poverty guideline for a four person family is $22,050. Also, bear in mind President Obama’s economic plan, which places families with an income of $250,000 or more into the top tax bracket.
With these figures in mind, what class do you honestly believe you’re in? Keep in mind, 86.7 percent of surveyed students identified themselves as some level of middle class. Of those students, 47.8 percent believed they were upper middle class while 11.5 percent identified as lower middle class. Additionally, 5.3 percent of students identified as upper class or rich, while 7.9 percent classified themselves as lower class or poor. How people self-identify on the socioeconomic scale may be a question of perspective and relativity, yet the fact remains that 49 percent of Dartmouth students do not receive financial aid—a fact that doesn’t altogether make clear the wealth of the student body, but sure does give a clue.
The thoughtful written responses to my campus-wide survey, rather than mere statistics, give more insight into the class divide at Dartmouth than anything else. Here are some of the responses given for the question “Can you remember an incident where you became aware of your own class?”
“In lower school (probably 2nd or 3rd grade) when I went to visit a friend for a ‘play date.’ I think she lived in Harlem (I lived on the Upper East Side). I remember feeling quite sad about her accommodations.”
“A friend once offered me the chance to travel Europe with her. The trip would cost $3000, the same as my car, the most expensive thing I’ve ever owned.”
“Growing up I played a lot of sports and I gradually realized that not everybody got a new pair of soccer cleats every season or as many bats as he wanted during baseball season.”
“Until coming to Dartmouth I thought I was pretty well off but I realized a lot of kids went to private schools and came from families that were way, way out of my league.”
“I was talking about having my wisdom teeth out two summers ago on my DOC trip for some reason, and another girl was like ‘oh yeah, I’m supposed to have my wisdom teeth taken out but my mom won’t let me.’ I didn’t even think before blurting out ‘what do you mean?’ in front of everyone, and she said it was too expensive.”
“The fact that my parents decided they could pay for Dartmouth was kind of an eye-opener.”
“When I came to Dartmouth and people didn’t all dress in designer clothes like at home.”
“Realizing that not everyone could afford to go home for Thanksgiving (or generally, whenever they wanted) during my freshman year.”
“Coming to Dartmouth and realizing that people who had incomes up to 5x mine considered themselves middle class also.”
In addition, some students were upset by the stereotypes made about them because they don’t receive financial aid:
“People who think that being from my background means you are privileged and that you are inherently better off in every way, even though I still have had barriers to overcome, even though I still hold three jobs, [and] try to be financially independent.”
“I feel somewhat uncomfortable telling friends on financial aid that I’m not. I feel like the fact that my family manages to pay $50,000 a year for this place should make us rich, but I still have loans and a job. I don’t want these friends to think I don’t have to worry about money at all.”
“People assume that just because I’m not on financial aid means that I’m wealthy. I’m not. I’m more frugal than many people I know who ARE on financial aid.”
What I thought was perhaps most upsetting were the many, many responses from students on both sides of the class divide who have been made to feel uncomfortable because of their class:
“I feel uncomfortable telling anyone that I attended private school because it comes with the assumption that my parents paid for it, which they did not, and could not have.”
“My friends were surprised that I didn’t have nice clothes to go to SAE Champagne. They gave me crap for that.”
“Sometimes I feel isolated being a white, middle-class male at Dartmouth because I have no social group to cling to such as the African-American movement, NAD house or Feminist movement.”
“My team was ordering special jackets that cost $85 each. I didn’t think very many people would order such an expensive (and totally optional) jacket, but the ordering list showed everyone as far [as] I could tell. My bank account took a big hit, but I didn’t want to be the only one without one or have people ask why I didn’t ever wear mine.”
“My friends often comment on how I’m like a lumberjack, and how I’m ‘close’ to the janitors here, partly because I’ve talked to them and partly, I think, because I’m from a lower class.”
“My roommate was placing an online shopping order the other day for hundreds of dollars and was telling me about everything she was getting; I wear hand-me-downs from my cousins and sister. Another time, my floor was having a poker tournament and wanted to play with money and have a buy-in. I had to tell them that I couldn’t do that, because I couldn’t afford to drop $20 or $40 playing poker.”
“Every spring, when my friends start ordering their ‘spring wardrobes’ and bathing suits off of jcrew and ae, I am very aware of it, when their huge order boxes start arriving, I’m aware, when they comment on the fact that they can’t fit all of their clothes in their huge closets/dressers/12 under-bed containers, I’m aware.”
Many students urged others to be more conscious of how they talk about money, and how they expect others to spend money:
“Dartmouth students are not always the most sensitive when it comes to these issues. They boast of their parents paying for their negative DBA balances, books, and off-campus dinners in the presence of others who work hard to cover said costs. It’s fine I guess…but if only they would realize how lucky they are sometimes.”
“Sometimes people aren’t necessarily aware when they plan things and ask everyone to chip in for food, alcohol, project supplies, etc. Everyone assumes that everyone else can easily part with $10. But that is the only $10 I have to spend outside of DDS for the next 2 weeks!”
“I think there’s a lot of assumptions here—assumptions that you can do things like afford to order in food every other day, go to Canoe Club for drinks and Carpenter and
Maine for special occasions, those assumptions$mdash;even if they are accidental—have definitely made me self-conscious when I have to make up excuses for myself.”
Socioeconomic class needs to be discussed more at Dartmouth in order to deal with the specter of class divide. While it is promising that most people claim to have friends from all across the class spectrum, most admit to never bringing up class issues with their friends. And 83.8 percent of the students surveyed had never attended a Hopkins Center Class Divide event. Yes, talking about class can be awkward, but by not talking about it, people continue to feel uncomfortable and unhappy about their experiences not being heard.