Dear Dr. M,
Senior year has been flying by, and now graduation and the real world are speeding toward me faster than ever. Duke sends me an email about every week now reminding me of how many days are left here, and it feels like I’m already being pushed out the door. I’m not the coolest or smartest on campus—do you think anyone will remember me when I’m gone?
Thanks!
Concerned About Fading Away
Dear Faded,
I’ve been stoked the past few weeks—Punxsutawney Phil’s lack of a shadow means we’re speeding back towards the time of year with March Madness and, more importantly, boys on benches without shirts. I was doing my daily rounds past Dsig section, trying to sneak a peek at what I could look like if I swapped my two-topping pizza and cheesy bread dinners for a creatine and soy smoothie. Imagine my surprise when I saw a group of Kappa rejects dancing all over that beautiful bench, screaming about how we should put all the cops in jail instead of the criminals or something. My first emotion, like any rational human being deprived of his Sig-gazing, was anger. Why were the people in the Durham County Jail so upset about a little cop themed mixer? Had Dsig not had the common courtesy to forward the Jail a few pictures of how hot those actual Kappa girls looked? More importantly, where was my invite? (You guys have me on that social listserv, right? The email’s below!)
The longer I stayed, the more my anger at the protestors turned to sympathy. I knew the words I heard shouted from that bench would ease the pain of the next inmate beaten by his cis-gendered, heteronormative, patriarchal, white supremacist jailor. More than that, I knew instantly that Dsig’s tyrannical reign over mass incarceration in this country was no more. Once again, these frat boys proved they were all the same, with their raging hard-ons for capitalism and visible muscles and under-loaded course schedules. Ladies and gentlemen, we got ‘em.
But what does this all have to do with you and your little legacy on campus, you ask?
Despite what the choruses of “NO RAGRATTTSSSS” echoing across Central every Wednesday night would have you think, we’ve all experienced that moment where we wonder what we could have done differently with our time at Duke. Everyone from your weird uncle who took seven years to get an associate’s degree to that creepy Harris Teeter clerk who insists Durham Tech is a “University” is quick to remind you that college is the best four years of your life. With that sort of pressure, it’s easy to understand why we little overachieving Dukies work so hard to leave our mark here.
We know that, no matter how much you protest, those frat bros will make the Duke Hall of Fame, whether it be for “Most Ethnic White Guys (fraternity)” or “Fastest Posting Rate on Greekrank.com.” The protestors will live on all across The Chronicle’s website, in pictures with their woven hemp bracelets and signs declaring that Kappa Kappa Gamma should re-charter to Iota Sigma Iota Sigma. But, as I’ve done all year, the Doctor is out there fighting for the average, everyday Duke student. How can you be sure that Duke will remember you, without making a PowerPoint of all the guys you banged?
Just cough up a few bucks.
The Duke Annual Fund was created a while ago, and I’m still not entirely sure why—they bring in about one drop in the leaky water conservation pond that is Duke’s budget. The thing they’re great for, though, is making you feel loved by your alma mater. What could make you feel more at home than a raspy Duke student giving you a call once a year, telling you how they love the financial aid they’re being pimped out for, and asking if you won’t throw just a few more of your hard earned bucks in Duke’s coffers?
If you’re concerned about where your money is going, the Fund has some of the best financial management on campus. Last year, tuition rose 4 percent, but the recommended donation only rose from $20.15 to $20.16—just a 0.05 percent increase. Wow! And for those of you out there who say, “I’ve already spent enough money on my Duke degree”, hop off your high horse and donate enough to pay for two and a half hours of salary for the parking attendant who tells you to screw off on gameday.
So stop eating Penn Pavilion for a few days and use the hospital bill savings to endow a stapler at an ePrint station. Your contribution will make sure you don’t break the yearly tradition of forking over a little dough to Duke—and, after all, that’s how you really stay relevant on campus.
Dr. Monday would like to thank the Duke Annual Fund for allowing him to endow the “Research Center for Advancement of Mondays,” located inside of the Bryan Center McDonalds.
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