In the wake of a tragedy, maybe the world should stop spinning
By Charles Dunst ’18, Editor-in-Chief
Editor’s note: the views expressed on the Opinion pages are those of our writers and are not necessarily representative of the Editorial Board.
The Hamilton College campus community has experienced five deaths in the last three semesters. Savannah Crane and Tom Phelan were valued members of the community and mainstays in their respective domains of the Diner and the Communication Department. Annalise Curtis ’18 and Graham Burton ’19 were beloved students in the prime of their lives; Curtis displayed a passion for public service and community engagement, while Burton excelled in the performing arts and loved the outdoors.
In the last 48 hours, we faced two additional unexpected deaths on campus.
Around 4 P.M. on Tuesday, Sept. 26, the Hamilton community received the following email from the Dean of Students Office:
“I am writing to inform you that a member of the local community who is not affiliated with Hamilton College died this morning in Root Glen. Law enforcement and emergency personnel responded, identified the person, and determined that the death does not appear to be suspicious. Please keep the family of the deceased in your thoughts,” read the email, which was signed for Terry Martinez, Vice President and Dean of Students.
Although the individual had no connection to the College and will not be named by authorities, the Utica Observer-Dispatch confirmed that Oneida County Sheriff’s office was investigating it as a suicide.
Following this email, and a wave of police cars coming up the hill, sports practices, club meetings, and study sessions all continued as normal.
Less than three hours later, the Hamilton community received a second email, this time from David Wippman, President of the College;
“I am writing with deep and profound sadness to inform you that Isaiah Carpenter-Winch, a junior from Cambridge, Massachusetts, was found dead earlier today on campus. When a member of our community dies so suddenly and unexpectedly, especially someone so young and full of promise and possibility, it touches us all. Nothing can prepare us for such a tragedy, and people will respond to it differently. Please know that there are resources throughout campus to assist you,” Wippman wrote, adding that Counseling, Chaplaincy, and Dean of Students assistance would be immediately available.
Once again, following this email, which notified us of the second death of the day, much of the community continued about their day as normal.
Let me be frank for a second.
It is seriously dismaying that following two deaths, within three hours of one another, there was little campus reaction.
In the midst of five campus deaths in one year, it appears that our community has become desensitized to tragedies, particularly unexpected deaths like these.
Following community deaths, we have been repeatedly met with a simple and calculated formula: (1) an all-campus email, (2) an official college news post, and (3) a Spectator remembrance piece.
After this weeklong process, those who did not know the deceased simply return to their everyday lives.
After being on campus for a few of these tragedies, I can say with confidence that conversation surrounding community death has never entered into my classrooms, although I am certainly aware that my peers have had dissimilar experiences.
On the other hand, I was met with teary-eyed teachers and classroom confessionals on Nov. 9, 2016. While many Hamiltonians were dismayed by the election results, it is seriously concerning that students do not display similar legitimate and visceral sorrow when a member of our community loses their life.
This detachment is palpable; concern following the election was socially accepted, yet somehow, the death of a peer on a campus of less than 1800 fails to merit the same response. These emotions are here and students are concerned, but a campus culture in which meetings, classes, and assignments continue unabridged in the wake of a tragedy fails to allow for them to be expressed adequately.
This is not to say that there are not professors, administrators, and coaches who took the time earlier this week to slow down their respective spaces in order to check in with their students. This is also not to say that those most closely affiliated with the deceased have not experienced numbing sadness. Certain communities and classrooms, among other spaces, stopped for a brief moment.
This notion of pausing — and addressing the elephant in the room — needs to extend to the rest of the supposed “Hamily.” What good is our campus family if the majority of us opt to shut others out in the wake of a tragedy?
More than anything, as a community, we have come to accept death — even those of 18- and 19-year-olds, as well as those classified as suicides — as simply a normal part of the college experience.
In the wake of a campus death, our small and secluded world needs to stop spinning, at least for a moment. Community deaths are not at all normal, particularly those of the able-bodied, young, and visibly well-adjusted. It is time for the Hamilton College Community to stop treating these tragedies as if they are.
One email, along with a round of remembrance press from the college itself and The Spectator, is not acceptable. A passing conversation in Commons is not nearly enough. Pretending that nothing has happened and that everything is okay is not at all acceptable.
Far too often, serious conversations around these issues are resigned either to private conversations with counselors or drunk weekend confessionals with peers. Most often, it seems like these conversations simply are not had.
On Tuesday night — an evening following two deaths on campus — I met friends for dinner and studied in the library.
In conversations with friends, the deaths were mentioned off-hand maybe once or twice.
A few hours later I got a Facebook invite for a party on Saturday; this invite was created and went out mere hours after these deaths were announced.
These experiences are the epitomization of the bizarre world that is Hamilton College — a world in which we simply move on after campus tragedies, continuing our studies and social lives as if this is not odd at all.
Based upon past experiences, I am expecting the next few days to be filled with discussions about recent hook-ups, Co-Op drama, and how busy everyone is, rather than any serious contemplation about the now seemingly-constant loss of life on our supposed city upon the Hill.
With the frequency of community deaths, we are long past due for some serious discourse surrounding these tragedies.
Young deaths are not normal, particularly in our elite and cloistered little community.
Stop treating them like they are.
