My older brother got married over Spring break, which was awesome. Making the 25-hour journey to and from Singapore twice in one week was less awesome, so I’m very thankful that—to minimize my traveling discomfort—my generous brother and dad decided to pay for my business class ticket on Singapore Airlines.
It was the first time I’ve ever flown business class, and the experience was mind-blowingly amazing. I don’t intend this as a plug for Singapore Airlines, but here are some things that made the flight unforgettable: a 15-inch LCD screen, an assortment of the latest movies and music on-demand, noise-canceling headphones and four reading lamps (each with a dim and bright setting). I had a choice of seven international newspapers and 30 magazines, two USB ports so I could listen to music and view photos, a special dock for my iPod and an electrical outlet. I was given three pillows and two coat hooks, and I ate cuisine created by world-famous chef Gordon Ramsey (one selection from the menu: broiled halibut with orzo, celeriac puree and smoked red wine sauce). There was a free flow of wine and champagne and a leather seat that could be converted into a fully flat bed. Oh, it also felt pretty nice to be addressed as “Mr. Wong” throughout the journey.
Best. Flight. Ever.
Interestingly, despite the sophistication and luxury of business class, I observed a number of passengers acting like adult spoiled brats. For instance, one man (I’ll call him Man A) got to his assigned seat and, five minutes later, realized there was another seat available that he preferred. He requested a change, and the flight attendant granted it.
Nothing wrong with that.
After a couple of minutes, Man A spotted another seat he would rather have—but this one had already been assigned to another passenger. This passenger was traveling with his wife, and they were sitting side by side. Man A, however, was undeterred. He called the flight attendant over and said that he wanted a second seat change; the couple could just change their seats. The flight attendant refused politely, but I could tell that the unreasonable demand had made him incredulous.
That’s not the end of the story.
To the flight attendant’s dismay, Man A furiously got up, walked up to the couple and asked them to swap seats with him. Not unexpectedly, they said no, which left Man A with a perfectly good seat—even though he clearly didn’t see it that way—for the rest of the flight.
I’m not telling this story to amuse you, but rather to share with you what it made me realize: We, as Duke students, often behave just like Man A, although we’re rarely aware of it. The underlying reason for Man A’s behavior was that he, or maybe his company, had paid four times the coach fare to fly business class, hence he felt entitled to a perfect traveling experience. Similarly, many times we feel that because we’re paying roughly $50,000 a year to attend Duke, it should provide us with a perfect college experience.
Since we’ve chosen to go to Duke, instead of another institution that doesn’t cost nearly as much, we feel like we’re “flying business class.” Our needs should be completely taken care of, and we should constantly feel like we’re getting our money’s worth.
I believe it’s this line of thinking that drives some independents (I’m one, so don’t hate on me) to say things like, “My social life isn’t all that great. Duke, what are you doing about it?” Other students complain endlessly about the curriculum, housing model, party scene or dining plan. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s important to fight for policy changes that will benefit the student body and the University. Yet if we continually blame others for our less-than-ideal Duke experience, we fail to take full responsibility for our own lives. Taking full responsibility doesn’t mean we control the outcome of every single situation, but it does mean that we take ownership of 100 percent of our problems and recognize our ability to choose how we respond to our circumstances. It requires that we acknowledge we’re completely accountable for the way things turn out. No blaming our parents, our past, our friends or Duke.
The high cost of our college expenses, about $200,000, doesn’t entitle us to four perfect years. It might sound extreme, but I would say it really doesn’t entitle us to anything. It’s entirely up to us to create that fantastic college experience we dreamed of when we were in high school. Let’s focus on the “business class amenities” we have access to at Duke rather than on that “preferred seat” we can’t have. Let’s assume absolute responsibility for our lives so we can fully enjoy the luxurious experience that is Duke.
Daniel Wong is a Pratt senior. His column runs every other Wednesday.
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