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.
All of us — Duke students, faculty, staff, alumni and administrators — need to make changes for first-generation and low-income students to feel welcome on campus.
My decision wasn't just about choosing to stay; it was about investing in the sense of home that Duke had become.
Fearing for your own life or the life of a loved one is possibly one of the most terrifying feelings you will never want to experience.
President Price seems to have forgotten that most students at Duke do not speak broke. Therefore, I, Monday Monday, champion of the vernacular of the common (top 1%) man, have taken it upon myself to translate the announcement into more accessible language.