If we have any sense at all, we should get a lot from our experiences at Duke. But do we give back enough? We ought to stop and ask ourselves occasionally: Is this university better for having had me as a student? Have I left this place better than I found it?
If you can’t answer “yes” to both questions at the end of four years, then that truly is a wasted opportunity.
President Richard Brodhead once told me that “being president of Duke is different from being president of other universities because, in part, Duke has such a sense of unrealized potential.... It’s about working with everyone else to realize what Duke could be.”
You could substitute “student” for “president” and end up with an equally true statement: Being a student at Duke is different from being a student at another university because Duke has such a sense of unrealized potential—the peculiar challenge of being a student here is to be part of the realization of that potential. Duke changes a lot in four years. How have you and I, in our own ways, been that change?
Terry Sanford, who was president at Duke from 1969 to 1985 and one of our school’s great leaders, said in his last meeting with the faculty, “We will continue to shape our own destiny in our own way in our own place.” In that same speech he termed Duke’s restless search for excellence our “outrageous ambitions.” Many of us harbor “outrageous ambitions” for ourselves in terms of personal achievement. But what are your outrageous ambitions for the University?
It’s not trivial to ask such a question. Students are the heart and soul of this institution. We are its reason for being. Why should we not, then, be a driving force in the University’s development? Especially for those not yet in the final chapter of your Duke career—but also for those of us who are about to graduate—I would like to propose an ethic of University service.
This service can take many forms. To work properly, student government needs more than 100 students to fill various positions. There are nearly 700 clubs that need presidents, vice presidents and treasurers. There are a cappella groups that need singers, orchestras that need musicians, dozens of teams that need players. The Admissions Office needs tour guides; the Chapel needs students to help serve communion. The many campus publications all need contributors and editors and readers. Professors need research assistants and RLHS needs RAs.
You have a special talent. (Why else would they have let you in?) Find a way to use that talent to make Duke better. Goodness knows the University could use the help. What we do to contribute to the University in time and talent and love and criticism and service is what we do to realize that unrealized potential. It’s what we do to shape Duke’s destiny. University service shouldn’t be something that is an accidental byproduct of being a student; it ought to be an intentional undertaking. University service need not involve fancy titles or grand endeavors; it can as simple as being the face of Duke in your hometown.
Sanford said that “Duke aspires to leave its students with an abiding concern for justice, with a resolve for compassion and concern for others, with minds unfettered by racial and other prejudices, with a dedication to service to society, with an intellectual sharpness and with an ability to think straight now and throughout life.” Duke leaves us with all of that and more.
But what will we leave Duke?
That, my friends, is now up to you.
Gregory Morrison is a Trinity senior and the former Executive Vice President of DSG. This is his final column.
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