A discussion on achieving racial equity at Duke will have to include conversations about technology and its role in society.
Not only do we as Black people carry the generational trauma of our ancestors, we also carry their generational blessings and gifts. Alive in each of us is strength, love and power that will alter our current reality.
For some of us, convincing those closest to us might be harder than donating money and protesting. But if we cannot convince our parents, no one can.
We will use our platform as student journalists to bring injustices to light and elevate Black voices within and beyond the Chronicle, as well as the voices of allies of the Black community.
Black undergraduate students at Duke continue to grieve alongside many members of the Black community nationwide over the losses of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, Tony McDade, Nina Pop, Sean Reed, George Floyd, and the countless other victims of racially charged violence against Black people in America.
When Duke announced classes were moving online, I knew it meant an end to impassioned discussions over meals at the Brodhead Center, cheering on the basketball team at watch parties and late nights in The Chronicle’s office at 301 Flowers. But as a student journalist, I knew the most important part of my time at Duke had just begun.
At The Chronicle, I wanted to grow up to be like Karen: a badass journalist, writer, partner, parent and mentor.
Karen was a loyal member of our neighborhood book club, whose fellow readers remembered Karen on May 25, appropriately, Memorial Day.
It is hard to imagine how anyone could offer better leadership to any organization at Duke than Karen Blumenthal provided for The Chronicle during the past few decades.
Karen seemed like everything a journalist should be, and I wanted to be like her, except for her disturbing love of the Dallas Cowboys.
That was quintessential Karen—she was ready and willing to give support and guidance, but she wasn’t going to be all delicate about it.