This is not a rational article, and processing social rejection often lacks rhyme or reason.
The courses at Duke that have stood the test of time have pushed me to synthesize the material to some further intellectual point, not just slog through the numerous superficial assignments for completion.
I’m scared that I am stuck on the same scratch of a record, that time keeps marching forward without me, tracing endless and expanding circles in my wake, that one day I’ll wake up and wonder when I was supposed to do all those things they say life is really about—the heartache and the love and the mistakes and the fun.
Why spend decades watching and rewatching these animals from a safe distance, highlighting every moment of madness or violence or tension like a quadrupedal reality show? To me, it all boils down to our own human, selfish need for individual discovery.
I was ashamed of not making full use of the plethora of resources available, and worried that my decision to sit out on many “core” experiences was diminishing the value and authenticity of my college experience—that it made me less of a Duke student.
It saddens me to see that, although new administrators have come to Duke with new sets of promises, they have reverted to the same words, defenses, and strategies against recurrent student grievances.
No one at Duke should be made to feel less like a woman because of their menstrual capabilities—not me, not a roommate, not a teacher, not a peer.
If the glint of the sun catches your dining partner’s eyes just right, it might just illuminate their intrinsic hopefulness and goodwill, revealing them as a bastion of radiance in a world of iniquity.
I peeked into rooms that seemed, at least at a glance, impossible: a study space so large I couldn’t see the other end, a classroom with all the desks on the ceiling, and an affordable campus dining option.
Sure, killing is an inevitable part of battle, but perhaps one could argue that, at least for the last year of the war, the American execution of every, well, enemy execution, can be inextricably traced to the Duke name.
Their exhibitions of hysteria represented an attempt to seize masculine power, and it was the doctor’s job to return them to their natural feminine state---keeping them captive in their sickness.