My measure of self-worth was always my talent; at that moment, I felt like summer had ripped it away from me.
Something has made me believe that I’m not allowed to enjoy life if I don’t look good while doing it. And it’s BS.
As Duke may yet again be kingmaker in future Triangle transportation initiatives, Duke students today should be aware of this history and grasp the unrealized power that lies in their collective voice.
We owe it to ourselves to let art fill our souls. To let conversations with other people make us see the world in new ways. To listen to music and look at an artwork and to watch a film from decades ago and know that people have felt happiness and sadness and anger and love and pain and loneliness the way we do, all along.
Living in abundance, then, is living with peace of mind. Only by defying the scarcity mindset — by sharing our knowledge with others, by helping one-another and by letting go of feelings of jealousy and remorse — can our Duke community live in harmony.
By letting go of monitoring the telltale signs of my peers’ political beliefs, I came to appreciate the input of every member. We had all come to class prepared, asked tough questions and treated each other with dignity.
There’s a jack-of-all-trades aspect to clinical year that’s necessarily uncomfortable — in this environment requiring frequent shifts from specialty to specialty, change is the only constant.
If Duke, and our peer institutions, decided that the main basis for undergraduate admissions was students’ ability to play ping pong, suddenly every ambitious high schooler in the country would be practicing their serve.