15 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
On June 17, 2020, President Vincent Price published a statement addressed to the Duke community regarding anti-racist initiatives, claiming that the University would “resolutely turn our attention toward the mission of anti-racism.” In its December issue, the Duke Alumni Magazine published “It’s Not All Racism,” a letter to the editor that gaslighted anti-Black oppression, shamed BIPOC for their marginalization, and demonstrated overt racism. The author of this letter, Charles Clutts, Trinity, ‘61, argued that “some of it [the plight of minority victims] falls on the victims themselves.” The two messages espoused by Duke appear contradictory—how, even, could they exist within the breadth of a single institution?
One night, in the midst of a late-night Hollows study room cram session, my friend, entirely unprompted, proceeded to crawl on the floor and hide underneath the table. Moments later, my two other friends and I had joined her (masks on, of course), marvelling at the absurdity of our lives and the mustachioed loaf of bread artfully illustrated on the wall-length whiteboard.
When I was a wee elementary-schooler, I was obsessed with National Geographic’s Weird but True fact books. Naturally, I learned many niche scientific and sociopolitical facts that would never, ever be relevant to my life. For example, consider the following:
Most days of the week, people come into my dad’s office and tell him about their lungs. I’m having trouble breathing, one might say. Or, I’m dizzy. My chest hurts. I’m feeling sick. My father will prescribe medication, run tests, scribble a quick note. This method of care works—even conditions with a historically extremely high mortality rate have become treatable.
Most Duke students have been spoon-fed an easy narrative—good grades equals good job equals good life—for our entire existence. We attend 8:30 a.m. lectures on three hours of sleep and four cups of coffee, hoping our sleep deprivation will magically subside with an extra shot of espresso. So Duke’s transition to Satisfactory/Unsatisfactory and opt-in letter grades was designated a win by countless in my social and academic circles. However, as time passed, opinions began to change; a mandatory Universal Pass change.org petition circulated, garnering almost 300 signatures.
My first ‘big quarantine cry’ occurred during a late-night Modern Love TV show binge, which seems pretty on-par given my previous columns. It was one of those ugly, red-faced, snot-running cries; it was relentless, continuing for hours on end.
A little over a week ago, a swastika was spray-painted onto Duke’s East Campus Bridge. Hopefully you’re already aware of this incident. After the hate crime occurred, I attempted to process via Gen Z’s unhealthy coping mechanism—online.
John Bolton has yet to open his box of secrets surrounding what he knows about Trump’s collaboration with Ukraine, but he is still slated to speak at Page Auditorium on February 17. Despite declining to testify before the House in Trump’s impeachment inquiry, he still will address eager Duke students, per the invitation of the American Grand Strategy program.
In the spirit of Monday Monday’s most recent column about rush, which reported that the CAPS system crashed due to first-years attempting to schedule appointments with a psychologist, I’ve realized a fundamental truth: we, Duke students, do not need rush; we, Duke students, need therapy.
Whether it manifests in the hate-filled rhetoric around the border crisis or the too-loud chatter of a neighboring dorm room or the emotional boundaries we all hide behind sometimes, we’re all pretty well-acquainted with walls.
Picture this: it’s 2 a.m. on a Saturday and you’re chest-deep in the rabbit hole of Modern Love. You’re a little upset because, yes, it’s cuffing season, and no, you’re not cuffed. So you’re living vicariously through the stories of other people… but sometimes it hurts to be reading these beautiful love fragments and knowing that they cannot and will not and do not apply to you. And then you stumble upon another tidbit of romantic news: an engagement! Between a woman named Katie Waldman and none other than Stephen Miller.
“Challenge yourself. Change your world.”
In the first week of my Civic Engagement FOCUS class, we were instructed to write about one issue that distressed us most about our, thus far, limited perspective on campus culture. I finished my paper in fifteen minutes--there was not one single issue I, as a female-identifying student, was more aware of than lack of a certain culture: consent. It’s as subtle as a waist-grab at Shooters, a sudden hand-on-the-back at Devine’s, an unwanted and unspoken invitation to dance, marked by the drunken presence of a boy standing a bit too close. It’s as overt and violent as the 48 percent of undergraduate women--and this percentage is most likely under-representative--surveyed in 2018 reporting having been sexually assaulted since their enrollment at Duke.
College application season is near-approaching, and Duke has been forced to keep up: the admissions website appears to be more enticing than ever. In one image, a group of racially diverse students sits in front of Baldwin Auditorium accompanied by the heading, “This is Duke.”
Editor's note: Every year, the Duke Honor Council invites incoming first-year students to submit essays inspired by the Duke summer reading book. The following essay by Lily Levin was this year's winner.