I became editor of Recess, in large part, by accident. In fact, it probably wouldn't have happened if it weren't for a man named Kyle Crafton and a little Chapel Hill bar called the Local 506.
I was there on an early spring night at the end of sophomore year to see Sam Prekop, a well-respected but mostly unknown Chicago musician best known for his work in the band Sea and Cake. A friend of mine I'd met through the Union's Major Attractions committee wanted to go to see the even less-known opening band, Papa M. Being an avid concertgoer (and taper), I thought I'd tag along.
Sometime between acts, Crafton walked up. The guy was a Duke senior and co-music editor of Recess. I'd never met him. He said he knew my work, but there wasn't much of it: a few sundry reviews, a big centerspread story dissing Dave Matthews. Pedestrian stuff, as Recess writing goes. Certainly not music editor material.
So Kyle's comments came as a surprise. "Dude," I think Kyle said, "you should apply to be music editor." I'm not sure if he actually talked like that. I do know that he did several reviews that suggested a certain herbal affiliation, and I guess I like to remember him that way.
I protested that I wasn't at all qualified, that I was sure there were many hardworking Recess folk just dying to fill his shoes. He responded that I had plenty of experience and that I was "the only person left who's into this stuff." By "this stuff" he meant independent rock music, the daring type that doesn't show up on MTV. Music that, in fact, Recess did cover in the following two years: The Silver Jews, Pavement, Arab Strap, Rainer Maria, Godspeed You Black Emperor!-bands that few people know about, but that they need to.
To make a much longer story short, I became music editor, it went well, and here I am, a senior and the editor of Recess. And as I've sat through several more concerts this year, I've thought about how the Recess editorship and other opportunities have come my way in my time here.
It was never, I realize, because I was the coolest guy out there, the wealthiest, the best looking or even the most intelligent. Somebody would have beaten me out in all those categories. My successes came, in large part, because I was willing to try new things, to take chances. After all, that's part of a Recess editor's job-to suggest new things to people by trying them out yourself.
But even with my recommendations, I wonder how many people are afraid to do something the rest of people aren't doing. I wonder, certainly, how it is that the same tired tripe sells out Alltel Pavilion while a stellar young band like Superdrag or Bardo Pond can't fill the Cat's Cradle.
Duke does lack diversity, but not necessarily of race. It lacks diversity of ideas and interests. A lot of days, it seems we're nothing but a bunch of Gap kids hiding behind various greek letters or acronymns and listening to the Dave Matthews Band (or hip-hop equivalent). It doesn't matter if people here are black, white, South Asian or whatever. Way too many interesting people of all backgrounds get here and let themselves be boring.
I wonder if being part of this community means submitting to a routinized, suburbanized culture, or if Duke simply recruits from that culture. Does it take being a boring person to get here, or is there some overarching mold that social fear seems to stick us into?
There are plenty of answers: that it's Durham's fault because there is "nothing to do" (two words: Chapel Hill), that campus is so fun and exciting nobody ever wants to leave (dubious at best), that we're all working too hard or that, in reality, there are lots of interesting people here and maybe I don't know them all.
True enough-I have met some of the most dynamic, brilliant and exciting people here who I'll ever meet in my life. And in fact, many people I respect don't particularly like to go out, and they have at best marginal taste in music. But what sets those people-and any person-apart is that their perspectives, their opinions and indeed, their interests don't arise out of any expectation of what is "right" or "normal" but of what they have decided on their own.
In tribute to those people, I offer a challenge to my fellow students, to the admissions office, to even the Cameron Crazies (the most homogenous group of all)-don't buy into the Duke Box. Don't straightjacket yourself into a boring life just because that's the easiest way to go about things.
Maybe one day you'll be that kid in the crowd, and something fantastic will come along that you didn't even think about. Maybe not. But whatever the material result of your effort to try new things, you'll be a whole lot happier for having tried.
Jonas Blank is a Trinity senior and editor of Recess.
Get The Chronicle straight to your inbox
Signup for our weekly newsletter. Cancel at any time.