Rethinking memory

Pull out your white sandals and French pedicures to match. With commencement ceremonies complete, belongings successfully relocated and farewells until fall behind us, the long-awaited arrival of summer has, well, arrived. Sure, we anticipate the Memorial Day weekend to fully inaugurate our sunny freedom, but signs of the season are already evident in preparation for cookouts, pool parties and vacation. For most of the student body, summer is a time to leave the books (and sometimes the brain), transcripts and reading lists behind without guilt-though I note some students are able to do this year-round. But unless you hail from the North Pole, the taste of Summer Break is as sweet as a ripe watermelon and as refreshing as a water fight on a humid Durham day. Who wouldn't want to kick back, relax and leave the lessons, trials and triumphs of the past year behind?

I found myself with this mindset as I flew into the Toronto airport last week. As a graduate Divinity student, my summers are occupied with field education placements. Although I expected to be placed in middle-of-nowhere North Carolina in a rural parish setting, all summer plans went out the window when I found that I would be living in Ontario, Canada for the next 10 weeks, working with profoundly disabled adults. As overwhelmed as I felt by this challenge in life, much less ministry, the one thing I was excited about was getting away from the dim hallways and musty library stacks that had been my home for the past few weeks. It was time to leave studying, Duke and Durham behind. I was ready for change.

How interesting then that, upon my arrival, I was called to celebrate the Canadian version of Memorial Day. They call it Victoria Day. In fact, it is likely listed in your daily planner with a cute Canada in parentheses beside it. This concept of Victoria Day intrigued me-it seemed a bit strange to celebrate Queen Elizabeth's great-great-grandmother. The puzzled expression on my face must have caught the attention of the mother of my host family, as she carefully explained the holiday. "Most people don't really know what it is for," she said. She continued to inform me that the weekend, celebrated before or on May 24 (Victoria's birthday), is known colloquially as May Two-Four weekend. I must have looked uninterested, because host mom laughed before kindly correcting my ignorance of Canadian culture. A two-four is what they call a 24-pack of beer in Canada. Victoria Day is notorious for hailing the queen, literally.

The point? As I enjoyed my day off and basked in the glow of multiple fireworks displays, I could not help but consider the irony. The season associated with being carefree is denoted in both Canada and the State by poignant long weekends dedicated to memory, and yet, they become little more in popular culture than opportunities to kick back and relax. Even on our Memorial Day, which intends to respect and honor those who have faithfully served our nation, the mainstream trend isn't to spend too much of the weekend-if any-remembering. We've got burgers on the grill.

And so, as we escape to our places of respite and rejuvenation, perhaps we should dedicate ourselves to spending a bit more time in honest reflection and consideration. It seems that our academic calendar may provide too easy an escape from the things we might remember about Duke as well as Durham. From simply wanting to leave here for a big city, or dissociating from the remnants of the lacrosse controversy, it is easy to leave behind the pain and brokenness of a city. However, as I serve those in Canada who have also been left behind by society, and who even I will leave come the end of summer, I can't help but think of the lessons learned about our campus and our community this past semester. And I realize that it isn't enough for me to just think about it, but to be more proactive in thinking how I will take part in affecting healing and change when we return in the fall. Hopefully in the midst of an all-consuming summer, we will find time to remember well this place that is our home, and think of ways we will contribute to the new memories, legacy and future of our campus.

Amey Adkins is a graduate student in the Divinity School.