We are all a little elitist

Other than the bone-chilling temperatures, the football game against the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill last week was a typical display of (un)friendly sports rivalry and verbal riffing.

Some chants we heard frequently from Duke students were: “We’re gonna be your boss someday!” and our favorite—a contemporary variation on a classic—“Go to class, Carolina!”

Sports can be good fun, but they are not just good fun. How we conduct ourselves during the frenzy of sports matches is as accurate an indicator as any of how we perceive ourselves. Under the guise of friendly competition, we no longer have to rein in the bloodlust of our id. Games are the few occasions during which we are allowed to strip half-naked, cover ourselves in paint and scream ourselves hoarse in a public space. At Duke sports games, under the guise of cheering on our own teams, we also bare the darker, more closely held facets of our identity than we would care to admit.

Meanwhile, Duke suffers from a public image problem. We are all a little too familiar with this stereotype, and we have probably encountered this firsthand off campus—the privileged, self-righteous, white, upper-middle class prepster both student media and the blogosphere have termed the “Dukebag.” In reaction, Duke has tried very hard to distance itself from these stereotypes. To our detractors, Duke points to its ever increasing plethora of civic engagement programs, service learning courses and outreach with the Durham community. We pride ourselves on being an interdisciplinary, globally-minded campus, with none of the pretension of our Ivy League peer institutions.

As students, we almost certainly do not believe we are snobby or elitist. We volunteer to tutor, travel to other countries for service learning projects and write research papers on international development. Yet, the way we choose to define ourselves during the unfiltered, primal fervor of sports games tells us otherwise. In these moments, we choose to to flash our class privilege and career prospects at our competitors. We get to temporarily be the elitists we really are, without the usual social repercussions. And throughout our Duke careers, from the moment we step on campus, we are buffeted by language that grooms us to expect the best because we are the best.

Maintaining this contradiction—humble exterior, Dukebag interior—has both advantages and disadvantages. For one, Duke students are incredibly motivated and confident in part because of our high self regard. Yet, letting elitist instincts out only during the cover of sports games devalues other educational institutions and exacerbates the negative stereotypes perpetuated about us.

It is time to admit, Avenue Q-style, that we are all a little elitist. After all, we had to be to get into Duke. But, perhaps we need to be a little more honest with ourselves—there is nothing worse than an elitist Duke student than an ignorant one.