Use the fields below to perform an advanced search of The Chronicle's archives. This will return articles, images, and multimedia relevant to your query. You can also try a Basic search
10 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
The photographs of Steven B. Smith put us on familiar ground. Smith spent nine years shooting suburbia for his project "The Weather and a Place to Live: Photographs of the Suburban West," the winner of the second Honickman Book Prize awarded by the Center for Documentary Studies. But viewers who think they know suburbia-either as a subject of artistic scrutiny or simply as home-may be surprised at what they see in his book and accompanying exhibition, displayed in the Perkins Special Collections Gallery.
Kyle Pratt (Foster) boards a transatlantic flight with her daughter (Marlene Lawston) to return the remains of her recently deceased husband to the United States. Midway through the flight, the unexpected happens-the six-year-old Julia disappears, leaving no trace of her ever having been on board. Faced with an incredulous crew and complacent fellow passengers, Pratt desperately searches the plane for her missing daughter.
Apparently, Duke is doing something wrong. This is what I’ve been reading in the paper. Our social scene isn’t “comprehensive.” Duke University isn’t treating someone or another fairly. Students, I’m told, should unabashedly love their school, but instead, they harbor mixed feelings about it.
It’s time to re-evaluate our evaluations, if the DSG race for VP of academic affairs is any indication. Both candidates—junior Christopher Chin and sophomore Joe Fore—have included the revision of course evaluations as a part of their platform. I couldn’t be more thrilled. Furthermore, both candidates have announced their desire to hear student input on the issue. So, without further ado, here’s my input on the most important changes we need to make to the course evaluation system at Dear Old Duke.
Let’s stop complaining.
Confession: In the three years I’ve been at Duke, I have spent a grand total of about one hour participating in community service. A friend had just joined some sort of club that was decorating valentines for retirees, and she didn’t want to go alone, so I tagged along. In a rush to create an impossibly large number of valentines in the tiny window in our schedule, we pieced together a few hearts with glitter and glue, then rushed on to dinner, or a meeting, or whatever it was we had that night.
The ruffled skirts of Indian Summer have been swapped for stained, days-old running pants.
Once upon a time, in the land of Durham, in the dominion called Ninth Street, there lived a King. He stood, or perhaps squatted, at the base of a hill, and rarely cast his eyes upward at the revolutions taking place above him. Indolent, he remained there with no concern for conquest, his interest confined to keeping his people content. And so he did for more than 25 years, reigning as modernity crept in around him. Only in the last years, when the castle was crumbling and pretenders to the throne thronged the hillside, did the King recognize his impending doom. Yet he strove on, preserving the Kingdom's way of life until the end. When it came, it came swiftly. The King was gone, his realm desolate, and all that remained was the writing on the wall: "Biscuit King has moved to Charlie's Neighborhood Bar & Grill."
In a March 27 letter to the editor, Ryan Matzinger, a student from an intermediate English class, wrote complaining about an assigned reading of a Flannery O'Connor short story entitled, "The Artificial Nigger." As a Southerner and a liberal, I too find problems with the word "nigger." I am not, however, prepared to strike literature containing this word from any reading list.
When asked which political party North Carolina Senator Jesse Helms belongs to, people will respond with answers ranging from "Republican" to "fascist." This range of answers reveals that Helms is not associated so much with a political party, but with a political style.