The independent news organization of Duke University
Just one month ago, Duke students on spring break received a notice to not return to campus due to COVID-19. Some students didn’t get the message until days later.
Does expecting a pass/fail option make me lazy? Does it mean that I’ve stopped trying in or attending classes? Absolutely not.
#BlackLivesMatter changed our nation and the rest of the world. Now, professors from the United States and Brazil are guiding students to examine the differences and similarities of race in both countries.
With the students of Duke and Duke Kunshan scattered the world over, there has also arisen the opportunity to find commonalities in unsuspecting places—from waking up at ungodly hours for Zoom discussion groups to gripes about the inconveniences of online assignments, shared experiences do help in creating an almost communal resilience against letting these circumstances affect us.
“I kept thinking about how normal everything felt that day, and how many plans we had that came crashing down."
For seven hours every week, these students cold-call alumni, asking for money.
Duke Canine Cognition Center’s puppy kindergarten offers a place where anyone can pop in for cuddles and sloppy puppy kisses—but it wouldn’t be possible without its 107 volunteers.
For some Duke students, the deadline presents a challenge. They scramble to design interdepartmental majors, they wait on acceptance for their Program II proposal or they simply can’t find time for the trip to East Campus.
After a season filled with wind, snow and administrators preventing students from burning benches, Tent 1 will be the first group of 12 students through the doors of Cameron Indoor Stadium when Duke hosts the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill Saturday.
If choosing a college roommate is like buying a lottery ticket, then these students hit the jackpot. For these five sets of roommates, a four-year roommate pairing defined a large part of their Duke experience.
In recent days, the Duke Kunshan University Campus has been unusually quiet. You still see the odd person walking about, but they tend to silently hide their face behind a school-distributed N-95 mask.
Claudia Koonz knows that talking to her can sometimes be difficult. “Don't talk to a Nazi historian if you want to cheer up,” she cautions with a laugh.
On Duke’s nearly-deserted Central Campus, one of the last buildings standing holds a vital resource.
Underneath the hazmat suits displayed apocalyptically all over the media are my aunties and uncles. Behind the suffering looming over Wuhan, China are generations of my family’s spirited stories.
As one of Duke’s few Iowans, I’m here to defend our first-in-the-nation caucuses.
Bench burning at Duke used to be defined by violence, chaos and impromptu fires. Today, bonfires are managed by A-Team.
Understanding that our setup within China can cause confusion or controversy, we would like to set the record straight.
In 1992, bench-fueled bonfires got out of hand and dozens of students were injured following the Blue Devils’ national championship. The hijinks prompted a reactionary motion to strictly enforce a campus bonfire ban.
After a series of tacit and overt clashes between students and administrators, what was once officially prohibited by the University has now become a carefully supervised ritual. This is the tale of how an illicit celebration became an institutionalized tradition.
Duke’s history is rife with student protests that echo one another, spanning from civil rights sit-ins to anti-ICE flyers.
