The racism I experienced was delicate and fragile; it took the form of a seemingly harmless whisper that faintly irked me, just enough to unsettle me.
“Who let the dogs out? Who, who, who, who, who?” They always ask who let the dogs out, but not who takes care of the dogs. Well the answer for both, at least for Durham, is the Animal Protection Society.
At school the learning process is much more formulaic. Attend lecture, do your homework. Study with practice problems, go to office hours for extra help. Unfortunately, there’s no textbook for how to handle sticky (or rather, juicy) situations in the workplace.
The notion of “playing hard” every night is perplexing as an outsider: it’s an activity caught in a dissidence of employing and neglecting empathy.
In a place as diverse as Duke, each and every individual is a cultural onion like no other. I cannot wait to uncover the stories they have to tell as I peel the layers of their identities over the next four years.
Now that my tennis days are well behind me, “put the ball in the other person’s court” is not a literal command screeched by an upset tennis coach, but a metaphorical lesson I preach to my friends like a sophomore frat boy preaches the rules of Thursday night partying to first years.
If you care and your goal is to make the most impact possible, you don’t need Peter Singer telling you what to do. The philosophy that being rich will allow you to help the most people absolutely isn’t true, especially if you hurt a lot of people in the process of accumulating that wealth.
Confronting the fact that I went to Duke for four years and tried very few off-campus restaurants made me feel a little like a fraud.
The built environment generates stories, and the stories attach flesh to stage, script, choreography, actors, performances, and reviews. Three intentions and three actions, three forms and three interactions of content — all six a standard set to understand design at Duke.