What's in a busi-ness

I hate birthdays. Turning six meant I had to leave my comfortable life at home with mom and enter a school that at the time was a foreign language to me. At 10, the double-digit life hinted I was encroaching on adulthood. No more children’s menu at my favorite restaurants. At 16, I exchanged my gifts for tears, as attending boarding school meant it would be my first birthday without family. I never felt more alone. My 18th birthday reminded me of the consequences of clashing cultures. I wanted to break away from the reigns of childhood, but my parents quickly reminded me that childhood has no age limit.

My 22nd birthday is promised to bear resemblances. I will finally have to face the question that has been posed by everyone around me—

What are you doing after graduation?

So far, I’ve done a decent job dodging this question. If you ask me, I’ll probably tell you that I’m waiting until after this round of midterms or that I’m going to finish the first chapter of my thesis before applying. I’m hiding under Duke’s workload (or overload) so much that “I’m busy” has become synonymous with my identity. If I’m not busy, then I’m obviously not doing life right. I see a successful day only when I have checked off all of the items on my to-do list in my planner. I can’t think about post-graduation if I’m always thinking about classes, right? Unfortunately, I doubt jobs and graduate schools and fellowship organizations care as much about my neuroscience test as I do.

I finally confronted this problem of being perpetually busy this weekend after attending the prayer service for Eid al-Adha, one of the two major religious holidays celebrated by Muslims all over the world. After prayer, Muslims sat down and listened to a sermon about Abraham (peace be upon him), known as Ibrahim by Muslims, and how he was repeatedly tested throughout his life. He was born into a city of idol worshippers, and rather than integrating popular beliefs and practices into his life, he posed questions to the community. His search for truth was not widely accepted, and he was quickly reprimanded by the community, including his father, who threatened to stone him if he did not stop preaching against the idols (19:46). King Nimrod, ruler of Babylon, ordered that Abraham be burned because of his confrontations. After having several prophetic dreams, Abraham was even tested to sacrifice his own son. As soon as the prophet was about to sacrifice his son, Allah told him that this was a trial. The son’s life was spared and Prophet Abraham sacrificed a ram, instead (37:104-106).

Whether you identify with a religion or not, this sermon is relevant to all of us. The sermon challenges us to appreciate the different ways we are tested. It also taught us to have courage as long as we know we’re advocating for life and justice. As a senior, this sermon allowed me to realize the different ways I am tested here at Duke, and a lot of my trials are rooted in Duke’s student culture. Duke students are apt to be constantly busy. Frequently, this is pressure to conform to the norm, to throw yourself into work, to look like you have it all figured out. Duke students wear this ‘busyness’ as a fashion trend. And, quite frankly, I’m ready for it to run out of style.

We need to start asking ourselves what this ‘busyness’ means. Learning isn’t mandated to the classrooms—there is another world of education once we start looking up. Departments, like the Kenan Institute for Ethics and the Sanford School for Public Policy, hold events all semester discussing pressing issues that shape our society. Duke football teaches us what it is like to be part of a greater community. It teaches you to share your passions and build communal identity with strangers (it also teaches you what a third down is). Friendships, too, are incredible sources of education. I have learned invaluable lessons from my classmates that cannot be found in a book. You’ll forget about your midterm next week in two months—you won’t forget the memories you’ve created and the influences the people around have on you. Duke is an investment—we need to make sure we take advantage of both curriculums afforded to us.

The sermon this weekend gave me the courage to finally come out of my busy façade and be confident in taking things a little slower, as I strive to find truth and meaning in my work. Moreover, it prompted me to face the question that has been burrowing me deep into my studies. I am not sure what’s going to happen next year after graduation. But I don’t even know what’s going to happen next semester. Or even next week. I’ve been using my busyness as a crutch to form my excuses, but hiding behind my work won’t give me answers.