Lessons from Duke 101

Life is full of lessons. You reap what you sow. Don’t cry over spilt milk. Never purchase a Furby because they are Satan’s reincarnation on this earth (Seriously. I took the batteries out of mine and it still kept purring and blinking like it wanted to seduce me and eat me at the same time. They are evil creatures). As I was in the library last night, Facebook-stalking freshmen—Duke seems to have defied the norms of logic yet again and created well more than one “best damn pledge class”—I had an epiphany: My time at Duke has been full of life lessons as well. Being a social science major (which, as is well publicized, is not a real academic pursuit at Duke), most of my lessons have come from outside of the classroom. But I wouldn’t want to waste my time learning if I’m not getting anything tangible out of it like class credit or candy, so I’ve proposed a few new courses that I think Duke should put on ACES. So here goes.

Self Pity 49S: This is a prerequisite for all pre-med and engineering majors, or any polisci major who tweets about how much it sucks to be in Perkins at 10 p.m. on a Wednesday. This class is a seminar because for those who take it, it is definitely a discussion course. “I LIVE in Perkins.... All of my classes are weed-out.... Well you’re in Trinity College of Arts and Crafts, sooooo.… ” This class continues through all four years, and it gradually becomes a learning experience in how to live without friends.

Avoiding Philanthropy 101: As I table for my various campus involvements, such as fighting to end labor inequality in bee hives or promoting manatee syphilis prevention, Dukies will do anything to keep from giving me their parents’ money. From what I gather, no one at Duke ever does laundry because they never have FLEX. Syllabus topics include: becoming engrossed in uninteresting conversation while on the Plaza, taking imaginary phone calls and faking a severe allergy attack.

Geography of NYC 118: Never hang out with more than one kid from “the city.” Everything will be normal, then suddenly they’re engaging in an ENDLESS discussion about NYC. I don’t get it. I am from Nowheresville, BumF*** and when I meet the incredibly rare someone who’s also from there, it’s a 30 second discussion, tops. I have only been to New York once, but from my time at Duke I could give a street-by-street tour. If you’re cool enough to be from the privileged NYC area, you can get an honors thesis through this class, focused on condescension and too-good-for-North-Carolina-ism.

Rallying 276: Everyone who was a freshman before 2011 took this class. There’s a simple schedule. Every Saturday, wake up at 8 a.m. and begin drinking. Put on a ridiculous costume. Go to a sunbaked parking lot. Pour beer on stuff. Then, do a lil’ dance, make a lil’ love and go home and pass out before you get down tonight at Shooters. Start homework the next day by 10:30 a.m. It’s just like, we work hard, and we play hard, you know?

Bull Riding 53: Extra credit for blatant sex positions.

Awkward Hookup Management 107: By this, I do not mean the management of awkward hookups. I mean the awkward management of hookups. Literally no one at Duke seems capable of dealing with someone that they have had their face on. Seriously though, WHY IS EVERYONE SO AWKWARD? I say this out of frustration, as I actually lack the capacity to feel awkward and have no idea what you’re going through. I am quite capable, however, of enjoying the results. Once, two of my friends were sitting on a frat bench and a boy who had hooked up with both of them walked by. Upon seeing two participants in his sexcursions in one place, he began to power walk as if being chased by a vicious Galapagos tortoise. At this point, one of the girls began yelling “WALK FASTER WALK FASTER WALK FASTER!” This, my fellow Dukies, is a premium example of two graduates of Awkward Hookup Management 107.

Moral of the story is, we learn a lot at Duke, both in and out of the classroom. Considering I’m currently in class while writing this, some of us obviously learn more of our lessons through our out-of-class activities. I think that’s totally valid. You can gain some knowledge, some SOMETHING from almost every situation. And there’s your lesson. Given to you, from me—a 19-year-old rando whose only authority is derived from the fact that some other teenagers decided I could probably write a column if I tried. But it sounded legit, right? Maybe I can get class credit for this stuff.