When you were considering Duke as a high school senior, did you know about security issues, community strife and over-zealous meter maids? This past weekend, I was on a "first-year residential life" panel with other undergraduates in front of North and South Carolinia prospective students. The audience asked questions about FOCUS, East Campus living, move-in day, coed dorms and orientation. Those were pretty easy.
One mom asked us about campus security. A dad asked about the social division between financial aid and full-paying students. We gave pretty sugarcoated answers. Of course, we all spoke some semblance of the truth, but subconsciously or not we made key omissions.
"Lots of measures are taken to keep people safe. It's pretty much like every other school." Or "you don't really notice socio-economic divisions. It's always nice to have rich friends with cars." These sorts of answers made me uncomfortable, and I have been grappling with my inability at the time to give what I believe to be more complete answers.
Looking back at my p-frosh visit to Duke, I remember hearing about only one substantial campus issue. As an officer in the Black Student Alliance, my friend/host had a vested interest in the Horowitz ad that had just run in March 2001. He gave me the inside scoop on various responses the ad elicited. Besides that, everything was just rosy. Duke was a great big family community. The administration always made sensible policies. There was no conflict between selectives and independents. Everyone felt safe and secure anywhere on campus. Trent Drive Hall was a great place to live!
We all know this school has its problems. But it's too easy to say "Oh well. Every university goes through the same crap. Duke's no different." In reality, how true is that notion? Granted, there are some issues here non-unique to Duke. And then there are the others. Practically everyone has his or her laundry list of concerns and complaints that could be strung up on the quad for prospective first-years to read. Enough of just perusing the dazzling viewbook.
How exactly do we present an honest and complete picture of this school to prospective students? What do we say to p-frosh staying in our hall or to the ones running around the quad during Blue Devil Days? Should we reveal different information in official and unofficial capacities? Do we mention the spate of violence and security breaches? What about the inane and ill-conceived alcohol policy? Or the crime against humanity that is the bus system? Or the ruinous social engineering project on West Campus?
To the administrators enjoying "an exciting new culinary experience" in The Oak Room Grille: Don't worry. There is a flip side. Students do have great things to say about Duke. Otherwise, we would have nothing to tell p-frosh, and we would all transfer while "gender-specific locks" are being installed in bathrooms to deter potential assailants.
I, myself, was once Duke's biggest critic. I've come to love a lot about my Duke experience. Now I only spread good words when talking to people from my high school. But therein lies the problem. I just don't know how to balance the good with the bad.
This fall, p-frosh again flock onto campus. Their parents lug around bags from the Duke store loaded with Duke paraphernalia. Tour guides trip over the useless little brown poles everywhere on the corners of main West. What do we say to the inquisitive high school seniors walking around in droves? "Duke, Duke, mutha' f---a's" as I would intoxicatingly yell in Cameron? Or "get out while you still can?"
Unfortunately, I have no solution to this dilemma. I guess I still have to resolve this quandary myself. I just hope there aren't any p-frosh reading this column. On second thought, maybe I do. Go Duke?!
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