Last Saturday, at 12:53 p.m. sharp, Nannerl Overholser Keohane engaged in an act so sordid I had to turn my head and look away. The photographers present did everything but that--they just kept clicking like madmen. Despite the moral abjection of the scene, these pictures are likely to end up in Duke propaganda, not in some fetish magazine. What, pray tell, did our beloved president do to evoke this kind of reaction? She helped raise the last wall of a Habitat for Humanity house, as part of a project called Blitz Build.
I first read about the event in last week's Dialogue. Let me quote the first sentence of that article: "In the course of a mere 10 days, a Habitat for Humanity house for a Durham family will be constructed on East Campus and moved by truck to a location in the nearby Walltown neighborhood." I swear I did not make that up.
The 'Blitz Build' was part of Founders' Weekend, which conveniently allowed the University to show all their wealthy supporters just how engaged Duke is in the Durham community. Intrigued and abhorred, I once again ventured to East Campus to get material for this column.
As soon as I approached the premises, an immaculately dressed Duchess handed me the day's program. At that moment Mel Melton and the Wicked Mojos started playing their uptempo blues on a stage behind The Sower. Left of the band, an enormous party tent had been raised. Cute round tables decked with linen cloths and floral centerpieces created a delightful country club atmosphere for the old white Republicans in Burberry outfits.
What sort of message does this send to our neighbors? We show them that we are too afraid to work in their part of town. We show them that we are too afraid to ask donors to venture to the site where the house is actually needed. 1014 Berkeley Street, the final destination of the house, is three blocks away from East Campus. This was a perfect opportunity to show that part of Durham to Duke's VIP following.
And I am sure the Walltown residents would have appreciated the musical contribution of the Wicked Mojos a whole lot more than the senior citizens that constituted last Saturday's audience.
Unfortunately, I haven't even told you the worst part yet. The cost of moving the home three blocks is $8,000. That money could have been spent on the next Habitat for Humanity project, or given to a range of dreadfully underfunded charities. Or it could have saved 40 lives in Kenya. To freely quote Thomas Friedman, it is shameful and morally irresponsible.
One of the reasons they decided to build the house on East Campus, according to Nan in her Am-I-Not-Great speech, was to draw the attention of students. At that point I looked around, and found that I was the only student in attendance, apart from the mandatory Chronicle reporter and a few volunteers representing community service organizations. Despite the free gourmet lunch, clearly audible music and an eye-catching wooden structure, there was not a single Duke student in sight.
I was not the only person who was deeply disturbed by this travesty for Humanity. I spoke to several students and faculty about the issue, many incredibly active in community service and service learning organizing, and I quickly encountered general disapproval of the project.
"It is all about the cosmetics," I heard on the bus. In the museum, someone confided in me that "it is so typically Duke." This last person was, alas, dead on. As if the Public Relations office had not finished orgasming, Nan handed the new homeowners, who were all dressed up in brand new Duke gear, a Blue Devil flag to hang from their house.
What I witnessed on East Campus had nothing to do with partnering Duke and Durham. Nan's photo-op was deemed more important than a genuine investment in our community. The tone was patronizing, and the wastefulness distasteful.
Relishing my shrimp kabobs, I wondered if none of the present Duke patrons felt even slightly uncomfortable with the situation. But no, they were all too busy stuffing their faces with goat cheese quiche.
Service to the Durham community is too often approached in a completely warped way. Realizing how incredibly privileged we are, we naturally want to feel better about ourselves. Some people donate food points to 'the needy' on the Bryan Center walkway to relieve their guilt for a few days. Other people might take a cute Durhamite pet through the Big Brother Big Sister program, advertised in the same Dialogue as the 'Blitz Build.'
Most of you have heard the old saying before: Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day--teach a man how to fish and you'll feed him for a lifetime.
At Duke, we like to give a man a fish, but first we take pictures of the fish. Next, we tell the whole village about the fish. If any important people are around, we will get our president to hold the fish for a while. We might even give the man who is lucky enough to receive our fish a Blue Devil flag to fly on his house. A year later, we will still brag about how incredibly big the fish was that we gave that poor, unfortunate man.
It might have been the ostentatious lunch, but last Saturday I felt like throwing up.
Joost Bosland is a Trinity sophomore. His column appears every third Tuesday.
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