There are a lot of amazing people at Duke. I’ve talked to students who have started companies, secured patents on their inventions, performed countless hours of volunteer work, done ground-breaking research. ... The list goes on. Many of these people also hold leadership positions in numerous student organizations and maintain near-perfect GPAs.
I might be exaggerating a little, but I’m sure a couple of friends came to mind when you read that first paragraph.
I’ve realized that, at least for me, there are two categories of amazing people:
(A) People you admire and, (B) people you aspire to be like.
Amazing people tend to be extremely busy, constantly rushing between classes, meetings and events. They are often sleep-deprived, continuously drinking coffee in order to keep going. When you talk to them, you frequently feel like you’re holding them up from getting to somewhere more important.
These amazing people epitomize intensity. You marvel at their ambition and determination, and you wonder how a young college student could accomplish so much. You admire them, but their lives are simply too intense for you to aspire to be like them.
The amazing people you aspire to be like are a subset of those whom you admire. You don’t aspire to be like everyone you admire, but you admire everyone you aspire to be like.
As spring semester picks up speed, I’m sure you’re getting busier, with papers to write, problem sets to work on, events to plan and internships and jobs to apply for. Oh yeah, and you have your social life to worry about too. This increasing stress got me thinking about what it means to live in such a way that would make others aspire to be like you. It’s certainly not a goal you should explicitly strive towards, but it would be nice if someone looked up to you as a role model.
Amidst all the things we feel like we have to do, the question to ask is: Are we leading great lives, or merely good ones characterized by perpetual busyness and tiredness?
In “Good to Great,” business philosopher Jim Collins talks about how, for companies, the enemy of “great” isn’t “bad.” Instead, the enemy of “great” is “good.” It’s usually clear if a decision is a bad one, so naturally you won’t be tempted to choose it. But companies often make good decisions—ones that are profitable in the short term but detrimental in the long term—at the expense of great decisions. Good decisions promise immediate returns, but are not in line with the company’s mission, purpose and core values. Ironically, it’s precisely these “good” decisions that prevent companies from becoming exceptional.
I believe this principle also applies to us as college students. I’m pretty sure all of us don’t want to settle for mediocrity; we want to attain excellence. I don’t mean that in terms of achievements or material wealth, but rather in terms of your contribution to society and personal fulfillment.
There are so many wonderful opportunities available to us at Duke. There are organizations to get involved with, lectures by renowned speakers to attend and house courses you could teach. I’m not sure about you, but sometimes I feel like I’m missing out if I decide not to go to all of the highly publicized events on campus.
At the same time, though, I’m reminded that the key to a great college experience is to choose the path of intentional abandonment of everything good, in pursuit of only the best. To me, the best things are the ones that are in line with who you want to become as a person, the long-term vision you have for your life and your personal mission. On the other hand, the good things are most likely the ones that make you think “Oh, that sounds cool!”
There’s a big distinction between doing things you think are cool, compared to doing things you truly care about. That’s really the difference between good and great.
As the semester becomes more hectic, our immediate solution is to walk faster, work harder and stay awake later. I don’t claim to have all the answers to having a great Duke experience, but I do claim that there’s an alternative to this natural response.
If you feel overwhelmed by busyness—I know I will at some point during the semester—let me encourage you to say no to every single good thing. Doing many good things leads to busyness, which alone does not guarantee fruitfulness. Saying yes to only the great things is the key to excellence without exhaustion. That much I’ve learned over four years.
Daniel Wong is a Pratt senior. His column runs every other Wednesday.
Get The Chronicle straight to your inbox
Signup for our weekly newsletter. Cancel at any time.