Easter weekend brings my Duke life full circle.
Around this time five years ago my family and I packed the car and left Missouri for Blue Devil Days. I took up a cot in a Wilson dorm room and I went to Parizade's unaware of disastrous nights to come.
Yes, Blue Devil Days was the first impression. Parizade's was hole-less. The view up Chapel Drive was pristine, unsullied by East-West buses and affording a clear view of the Chapel. We walked the gardens in full bloom and took in the Gothic architecture on a campus tour.
On the tour we all heaved a collective sigh of relief; the hard work of college applications behind us.
Hard work. Today as I watch tour guides herd prospective freshmen, I can't help but think that these kids did all the "right" things (or they know the right people). They submitted thoroughly proofread applications with time to spare. They drafted their college essays until perfection (carefully including adversity, diversity and teamwork). Perhaps some even hired college counselors and SAT strategy tutors.
And I remember how I missed the original application deadline.
Before January, I had only applied to Midwestern staple schools. Then in one of those rare moments of high school clarity, I thought to myself, is there life outside Missouri? Duke was outside Missouri (and not in New Jersey, I later learned). However, the deadline had passed.
By divine luck, like finding a twenty-dollar bill in an old pair of jeans, I randomly checked the Duke admissions Web site again and learned the application deadline had been extended. I took this as a sign and applied.
Feeling as though my chances rivaled George W. Bush in a spelling bee, I conveniently pushed this application to the back of my mind. Needless to say, I was shocked when the fat envelope arrived.
Now on the verge of graduation, I rediscover the fruits of my haphazard journey to Duke. This place has given me my best friends, mentors and intellectual challenges. Yet at the same time it is an environment that mandates a life of requisite certainty and fixed horizons: Harvard Med, Yale Law, Goldman, McKinsey, BCG, Bain, Rhodes. Just like the high school senior of four years ago, we ask ourselves, What is the plan? Step 1: Consulting firm; Step 2: Harvard MBA; Step 3: World conquest.
Except when I came to Duke I did not have any such plan. I just wanted to grow, explore and discover new passions and new interests. Then again, although I have grown extensively and discovered much, during my time here I too have given into the occasional compulsion to plan. If I ace this class, I can have a shot at the top grad school, right?
Still, every spring when I see the tour groups and I recall how I serendipitously arrived at Duke, I challenge my own cop-out and I am inspired to keep fighting the force that tells me I need to schedule my life according to precise and acceptable milestones. I tell myself that I ended up at Duke because during high school I took classes and became involved in organizations that I genuinely enjoyed. I had no bulletproof agenda and life still turned out all right.
So this spring why don't we sit back, relax a little and explore? Take only those classes and do only those activities that make us happiest. Challenge each other to live a life of truthful authenticity. From there, let's leave the rest up to chance-the unpredictable, magical way in which life tends to ignore our plans and work itself out.
Rachel McLaughlin is a Trinity senior. Her column runs every other Wednesday.
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