The independent news organization of Duke University
Facing a radically different semester in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, many Duke students chose to take a gap semester last fall.
Whether we acknowledge it or not, we all implicitly understand the clout involved with a big-name higher-education institution's degree.
In the news media we read about the economy, politics, and nowadays, a lot about COVID-19. On social media, we talk about protesting, voting and supporting one another. What we are not discussing enough is environmental issues.
Part 2 of our Discrimination exploration presents discrimination as a nuanced problem, delving a bit further into the issue on campus and discussing potential solutions as outlined by the Duke community.
To be in the first class of Rubenstein scholars was to embrace contradiction.
On the morning of Nov. 4 in China, laptop screens on the Duke Kunshan campus glowed with the red-and-blue Electoral College map for the U.S. election. WeChat Moments—China’s equivalent of a Facebook feed—showed screenshots, words of encouragement and amateur commentary on the state of the race.
Hop off the C1 at West Campus, make your way across Abele Quad, and you may sense something’s missing. It’s the upperclassmen. Duke didn’t allow most juniors and seniors to live on campus in the fall, though some have found housing off campus in Durham. Those weathering the semester out of town face a knotted mix of challenges and nostalgia.
Bridging the Gap is a partnership between The Bridge and The Chronicle that explores race, gender and marginalization at Duke and beyond. Our first episode is titled “Diversity, Discomfort and Discrimination,” and Part 1 is an introduction to the psychological cause and emotional effect of prejudice at Duke.
Bridging the Gap is a partnership between The Bridge and The Chronicle that explores race, gender and marginalization at Duke and beyond. Our first episode is titled “Diversity, Discomfort and Discrimination,” and Part 1 is an introduction to the psychological cause and emotional effect of prejudice at Duke.
In July, B.J. Rudell quit his job as associate director of Duke’s Polis: Center for Politics and became a field organizer for North Carolina Democrats.
At DKU, and in China at large, COVID-19 is not regarded an ever-present existential threat as such. Signs on campus encouraging social distancing remain but have all but lost their authority.
Duke's dean of undergraduate admissions shapes the University's next generation with a feline by his side.
On March 6, juniors Aneri Tanna and Ashwin Kulshrestha officially started dating. They parted ways for spring break, expecting to be back with one another in a week. It would be months before they saw each other again.
When the Nashville Public Library released a video of a chain-wearing mouse puppet bobbing to a parody of “Ice Ice Baby” to explain their curbside book pickup, Jamie Keesecker’s colleagues wanted him to make something similar for their new contactless reserve system, called library takeout. Keesecker went a step further than parody, and his video became a viral sensation.
I didn’t think I’d be spending the first month of my first year of college quarantined in Chinese hotels, but here I am.
During a time when most groups have had to redefine normal in unconventional and often virtual ways, religious life leaders are continuing to grapple with the question of fostering meaningful community, connection and spiritual faith during a moment marked by isolation and instability. The answer has changed over the course of the pandemic.
“We are pleased to announce that Duke leadership has determined that they are able to welcome to the Duke campus for the fall 2020 semester those DKU students in the classes of 2022, 2023, and 2024.”
At the end of his first year, confused as to what he wanted to do and how college fit into the picture, Josh Farahzad decided that maybe what he really needed was to just scrap the path. Maybe “crazy” could begin now.
Shreyas Gupta had just started to doze off at 2:45 a.m when a glass bottle smashed through his bedroom window. His first thought was that there had been an explosion. Glass littered his windowsill; shards scattered across his carpet, reflecting moonlight.
If you took a stroll on East Campus at the beginning of the semester and happened to find yourself standing in front of Jarvis dorm, you might have noticed the colorful poster hanging from one of the dorm’s second-story windows: “We are bored. Yell up to say hi.”