The historic three-day celebration closed with the student inaugural ball Friday September 13th from 9 p.m.-11 p.m., a pretty little red bow placed on the gift that was “Dowd Fest.” The reason I am writing this article is for posterity — very often it happens that Notre Dame will host an event that people might forget a few months down the road, a few years down the road perhaps. This is my unsolicited contribution to the world: an inside scoop of the student inaugural ball, henceforth, “Dowd Ball.”
Conceptually, Dowd Ball is a reminder. A reminder to students that Notre Dame cares about them. It is also a reminder to Notre Dame to care about students. Practically, Dowd Ball was one of the few events of the weekend that students attended or were even invited to since there wasn’t a more than $1,000,000 donation paywall.
Though the ball begins at 9 p.m., the night begins at two different times for women and men. For women, it begins at 5 p.m. when “getting ready” commences. After approximately an hour, they will congregate with their friends by St. Mary’s Lake or the Dome for pictures. I am not exactly sure what takes place between 7 p.m. and 9 p.m., but I estimate it takes about 25 minutes to drink two hard seltzers. For men, it begins at 9 p.m. when they decide that they will attend the ball. They will hastily toss on the suit they wore to high school prom or the khaki pants they wore to their Deloitte summer internship. Without checking the mirror to see if they are sufficiently groomed or bathed, they fly out the door with beverage in hand.
On this same topic, I truly commend the effort and precision it takes Notre Dame women to prepare for the Dowd Ball. Without compulsion, they undertook a lengthy process of planning and executing their night — it was no small feat. However, I cannot commend the fashion decisions made by men that night. I think it goes without saying that tennis shoes never go with suits. Khaki pants paired with wrinkled blazers make you look like a frat pledge. Omit the tie because the occasion doesn’t call for one, not because you don’t know how to tie one. Also, perhaps trousers that are so tight and short such that they resemble skin-tight capri leggings, are ill-fitting.
Aside from the clothing, the most controversial aspect was the line to get into Dowd Ball. Imagine a line of people that was over four football fields, that is roughly 0.3 miles, spanning from the Knute Rockne statue all the way to the Clarke Memorial Fountain, that is, Stonehenge, in North Quad. Imagine numerous detachments of drunk college students jumping the queue and absorbing their bodies into the massive mob of hundreds in front of the gate. Imagine the fear in the hearts of the security guards and hospitality people as death by suffocation and trampling seemed likely.
There are a few logistical breakdowns that I would like to address in the form of questions. Do you really think that more than 4,000 drunk college students will efficiently flow through a single 15-foot-wide gate? Do you really think that a random voluntary Qualtrics survey to fill out before entering the ball is an efficient way of gauging attendance? Do you really think that a handful of police officers and zero metal detectors are sufficient security measures? Do you really think that one 15-foot-wide access point to facilitate the flow of thousands of people both to enter and exit the stadium is not or does not approach a hazard? Do you really think that around six food trucks could serve the mob of “hangry” and drunk students? With regard to the food truck fiasco, I propose the completely unfounded hypothesis that the same people who organized the Library Lawn Dowd picnic also had some influence on the Dowd Ball.
Obviously, Notre Dame students and lines do not jive well.
In light of all my negativity, I have some positive things to say, for once. For one, the drone show was quite impressive. It is truly a human marvel that we have the ingenuity to create a drone show but lack the common sense and ability to figure out how to make lots and lots of people walk through a gate. Sorry, last time. Moreover, I appreciate the attitude of the University to attempt to put on something nice for us students — in theory, it was a fantastic event. The music and DJ were fine. There were a variety of songs, so I could balance covering my ears to Taylor Swift songs and jam out to songs that my parents grew up with.
To close, I propose a few solutions that could be considered for the next inauguration. Implement a fast pass for events, similar to that of Disney World or any amusement park. The level of how much you can jump the queue is proportional to how much your mother or father donates to the University. Find a way to make sure the students are safe inside the ball — perhaps look into metal detectors and increased police presence. Finally, find a way to allow students to attend the Basilica Mass. I am hesitant about any barriers or paywalls, like tickets, for members of the Faith to participate in Catholic worship or life, and so did Martin Luther. I’m not very worried about all these adjustments. The University probably has more than 19 years to plan it all out.
Jonah Tran is a junior at Notre Dame studying finance and classics. He prides himself on sarcasm and never surrendering. You can file complaints to Jonah by email at jtran5@nd.edu.
