Reflecting on Duke

"So, how did you enjoy Duke?"

As my college career comes to a close, I have thinking been thinking more and more about how to answer that question. I truly love Duke and am so grateful for all the opportunities I’ve had. But my experience has also been riddled with complexity—I have had some of my best times here, but also my worst, and everything in between. Duke has changed me, and while everyone wants to think they come out of an experience better than before—at least for me—change has not always been good. So as I wrap up my time here, both as a columnist and a student, I want to dedicate space to the parts that maybe weren’t so great, the experiences that make me cringe and the times that Duke turned me into person I didn’t like very much. When I tried to narrow down the three issues I struggled with most here, this is what came to mind.

Lack of personal responsibility.

These last four years, I have heard unrelenting complaints about Duke’s social climate. People love to complain—I do it too—about the toxic hookup culture and work hard, play hard mentality that seems to preclude the presence of serious relationships. As I have written before, there’s nothing inherently wrong with so-called hookup culture. You do you and anyone else you want. But I think the widespread dissatisfaction at least indicates that a significant portion of the population does not like the assumed status quo. And yet, no one seems to do anything about it. We accept and tell others “that’s just the way Duke is” without actively trying be the change we want. I have both watched friends resign themselves to mediocre situations because they think it’s the best they can get and listened to them rationalize treating their partner poorly because it’s “not like we’re in a relationship anyways.” I have fallen into a similar pattern more times than I should have. While everyone is different, I do wish I had taken greater responsibility to demand my own happiness rather than submitting to what appeared most prevalent.

The nagging need to compete on every level.

I wouldn’t say Duke is a cutthroat environment, but there is a deep pressuring to continue being the best like most of us were in high school. And the pressure hits the moment we step on campus during O-Week—to get invited to the coolest parties so we can join the most exclusive social circles, to have the best grades and be involved in the coolest things on campus, to eventually land the most lucrative internship that will lead to a high-powered career. I have spent far too much time believing I wasn’t good enough to be here, feeling like I didn’t belong because of my background or accomplishments. At a school with students as incredible as ours, we can’t all be the best. Yes, some people can and will, and that can feel demoralizing, but that’s not the case for most of us. And that’s okay.

Difficulty sharing vulnerabilities and expressing needs.

By now, we have all heard the term “effortless perfection,” where we’re supposed to be successful and put together but without looking like we’re trying. And while students and groups have been trying to dismantle that trope for years now, it nevertheless persists. We all want to think we’re strong and independent—and most of us are—and can handle whatever life throws at us, but that assumption also fosters a toxic climate where people struggle to ask for help when they need it. I know more people who struggle with mental illness and trauma than people who don’t, and it’s terrifying that on a campus of 7,000 undergraduates so many people feel so alone. We have no problem supporting Facebook campaigns or telling our friends to go to CAPS, but when it comes to confronting our own vulnerabilities and our own pain, it is exponentially more difficult. We don’t talk about these issues, at least not on a personal level, and the impact of that is detrimental to individual wellbeing. Opening up is hard, but I often wish I had done so sooner and I hope future students will feel empowered and supported enough to break the cycle.