“Duke” is such a loaded word.
I’m not even referring to that one national sex scandal, that other national sex scandal or that other national sexism scandal. That stuff is boring—I’ve already commented on those issues. I have a Today Show interview and a referenced quote in the Atlantic to prove it (ask my inner feminist about it later).
What I’m referring to has more to do with my particular personality. I have spent countless hours mulling over how I am happy but not satisfied. The psychoanalysis usually boils down to, “What does it all really mean?” Then I take a break and continue indulging in other first-world problems. I’m a little neurotic.
And so I have spent the past four years embracing and turning my back on Duke as if it’s my dearest frenemy—a place and an experience the that I love to hate, and hate to love. My relationship with Duke is by far the most tumultuous I have ever been in—this coming from someone who has been in a long distance, open/closed/idk relationship for three years.
These sentiments are nothing groundbreaking—read any column in the Chronicle this semester, and you get a sense for how unoriginal I am in my declaration. Why is it so comforting to bash on this elite institution, only to feel all the more feel guilty about falling in love with it? For me, it’s been the balancing act of being both an insider and outsider in the glorious Duke bubble.
As an outsider, I have shaken my head at the debacle that takes place at Tailgate, not fully understanding as a freshman why anyone would wake up at 7 a.m. to dress in Halloween costumes only to get soaked and exhausted by 12 p.m.
As an insider, I have waken up at 7 a.m. in the morning, riding around on my friend’s shoulders in a fairy skirt shooting liquid out of a Nerf gun.
As an outsider, I have written for Recess, the obscure, snobbish arts section of the Chronicle, reviewing culture in hopes that I may convert some unwashed souls.
As an insider, I have thrown a “Teenage Dream”-themed party, sang along to “I Love College” at frat parties and watched Rebecca Black’s “Friday” video unironically at least twice.
This list goes on and on. But what I’ve come to realize is that there is no need to be outside or inside the “Duke Experience.” I’m already living the Duke Experience, and it took me this long to figure that out.
Not everyone can relate to some of my experiences. I work at the Coffeehouse in the boondocks of East Campus and get paid to hang out with friends. I wrote a thesis on health care reform and enjoyed it. I joined Round Table, the SLG that makes me feel like an underachiever. I study Public Policy and International Comparative Studies, because I thought I cared about the world, only to discover that online shopping is my true passion and selling out is the only way to go. I spend hours in Perkins watching cat videos.
At the end of the day, I have found some of the best and brightest people here, people who indulge and challenge me in ways that I am very grateful for. Friends who will stay up until 4 a.m. arguing with me about why my views on social life here are unfounded. Friends who like cat videos more than I do. Friends who DJ for WXDU, but will still dance to Ke$ha. Friends who care about the world and still like me, even though I’m selling out. Friends who joke about first-world problems as much as I do.
“Duke” was never meant to be polarizing—it’s just a dear friend, one you’ve known a little too long. Sure, she (he?) has a few annoying quirks, but eventually you get past them.
Duke is far from perfect, but so am I. And I like it that way.
Jessie Tang is a Trinity Senior and former Recess content managing editor and arts editor. She thanks the Sports Hall for putting up with “Like a G6” on repeat.
Get The Chronicle straight to your inbox
Signup for our weekly newsletter. Cancel at any time.