The independent news organization of Duke University
I wonder if I have problems prioritizing as I balance on scales, watch my weight drop, know it’s the cost of saving each HEERF fund, stimulus check, meal stipend, the cost of piling books on my windowsill instead.
We treat our doctors with pride and appreciation, but there’s a very heavy burden that follows the letters D and r.
Sure, we love Duke Athletics and we love when Duke moves up a place in some arbitrary ranking system and we love when our researchers make new discoveries, but holding the University accountable is a form of love, too.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from The Chronicle, it’s that you never know when a lifelong memory is going to fall into your lap.
And the moment I stared out the window at the Chapel, my head swimming with memories instead of stress about the week ahead, I knew it was time for the end.
As I look back on my time on this campus built to let in sunlight, I’m aware of what a privilege it’s been to spend my college career illuminating Duke and its community.
I’ve been a sports fan my entire life, but I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve never been as interested in the Xs and Os on the court or field as a lot of my peers.
It’s natural to have regrets in life, but as The Chronicle chapter comes to a close, I only have one: Why didn’t I start sooner?
Just as I’m gentle on my knee so my knee supports my hip, I can maintain, as life continues, that all my seasons may count for me sometime.
I’ve always felt that the office was a safe space, somewhere I could come to find those who would share in my joys or sorrows in equal measure. I feel genuinely loved, which is such a beautiful thing that is easy to take for granted.
It’s okay that I don’t know what’s happening next, because that means I can finally write this next chapter myself. And if there’s one thing writing for The Chronicle has taught me: it’s writing.
Over the years, I grew from someone who did not even know what to do with my new camera, only fascinated by the power of the iPhone 6 camera, into a girl whose entire life revolves around photography. I thank The Chronicle so deeply for that.
It is truly an experience like no other to sit center court in Cameron Indoor seats you literally cannot pay for. The music is deafening, but the show is darn good.
I want to wield my sentences with intention—in order to bring about a better world, happier people.
Additional pieces of information can help confirm a diagnosis or make us feel more confident about proceeding, but the question is—would you most likely behave the same way with or without that information?
The most difficult part of being a Duke student for me isn’t the classic case of being afflicted with imposter syndrome—I have enough confidence in my abilities to know that I deserve to be here. Rather, it is the frustration of not being able to fully leverage the plethora of resources at my disposal, of being hamstrung from reaching my full potential by something as “trivial” as anxiety.
I lived a lot of my time at Duke wondering when and where the next thing would go wrong. But what if everything went right?
I didn’t expect to be in college during a pandemic, but I really didn’t expect to become a writer; after all, it was my older brother who had been the English major.
The presence of Macs is not inherently bad; what’s bad is that it creates an unrealistic norm and adds pressure to students to buy expensive Apple products, regardless of whether they need them or can afford them.
Dr. King shows us that silence and speech are intertwined.