When I arrived on campus four years ago, Duke was an unscathed academic and athletic paradise. The report of the 2002 Women's Initiative was the only evidence suggesting otherwise. The lacrosse controversy, ensuing intense media coverage and the Campus Culture Initiative were unexpected. Duke and the arriving Class of 2008 were both untainted.
During his first convocation address four years ago, President Brodhead told my class, "When I asked myself what I could say to you on this occasion, I could only think to begin with this overwhelming fact of newness. This is, for you, like the earliest days of creation. Everything stands before you in its primal freshness and strangeness; you have not yet marred a single hour or messed up in a single way."
Uncertainty, entangled in newness. Though laden with the baggage of our previous experiences and stuffed full of expectations, the next four years were undecided. We did not yet know that our hatred of orgo would doom our then-certain medical career, rushing would shape our social interactions or that the name and hometown from down the hall would become our best friend and confidant.
I saw Duke like a young child sees a parent. It was omnipresent and I was lucky to be a component of its detailed perfection. Ahh, we were the new, the naive and the bright-eyed.
And now-well, we're just plain washed up.
President Brodhead: I have marred many hours and messed up in many ways. Can I please have a re-do?
Gosh, if I could go back in time I would take Econ 55 later in my Duke career, complete Spanish abroad instead of suffering through the misery of intro Spanish classes here and make friends with my professors (especially Chemerinsky, because he is just one cool dude).
I would take my sorority less seriously and fight to make Panhel a more powerful, radical organization as opposed to the non-confrontational indirect supporter of the Duke status quo that exists today. I might finally fulfill my 1970s hippie dream and march around campus holding a sign that says "Go Green" (complete with a picture of a Hummer covered with a big X).
Heck, I might even attempt the effortless perfection task of running on the treadmill AND highlighting my readings at the SAME time (I see girls do this at the gym and I marvel at their balance.... I would be the one who trips and goes flying off the back end).
Oh, and of course there is a kicker. Brodhead, this whole re-do thing is also in your best interest. There are probably a few things you would like to re-do, too.
But alas, I know your answer: "Rachel, you can't have your three years back (and neither can I)." In your Yogi Bear voice and with an affable smile, you will tell me that life is a journey and this whole college thing, well, it's just the beginning of many lessons learned. You will say, "You are imperfect just like everyone else, you make mistakes, you grow, you explore, you have successes and you have failures." So cliche.
And so just like that (despite the valiant effort), instead of returning to the glorious newness of Alspaugh or Pegram, we are seniors. Like children who once revered their parents' supposed perfection, we have grown up to discover marijuana stashed away strategically under their socks in the top dresser drawer.
Duke has its strengths and its skeletons. Within this Duke, we have been fearful, fearless, optimistic, pessimistic, pushed to our limits and forced to discover the breadth of our power and the depth of our inadequacies.
True to the cliche, I have learned a little since entering Duke. Knowing what I know now, I approach Duke and the people here differently than before. Among other things, I know that no matter how put together one seems, he/she is really a mess. Despite outward appearances (Goldman Sachs internship, straight As or a Harvard Law School acceptance letter), no one has their stuff figured out.
So seniors-let's cut through the Duke bulls-, instigate change and make the last one count.
Rachel McLaughlin is a Trinity senior. Her column runs every other Wednesday.
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