The horn became louder and didn’t stop. I turned to my left and saw a train coming toward me. I waited. Then I changed my mind and scrambled onto the rocks beside the tracks… I checked my watch and went to class.
Let’s be careful this year not to center all of our attention on what hurts, the friction or on what stings. Don’t forget to look for pearls. They’re being birthed all around us through oysters and other people.
This episode explores the history of The Chronicle, particularly in terms of its failures to adequately cover marginalized groups and its representation among staff. Here are some quotes from the episode, featuring reflections from previous editors-in-chief about events during their tenure.
We continue to pay the same tuition as domestic students ($50,000 or more) while taking already taxing online classes in different time zones than our domestic peers. If we don’t, guess what? We lose our visa.
Stories. The last four years of Duke and Zoom University can be summed up in this one word that always has and always will drive my love for people, places, the unpredictability of life and everything in between.
If you have love, perfection is overrated anyways.
At the end of every volume, The Chronicle invites graduating staff to write senior columns reflecting on their times in the 301 Flowers office. Read what they had to say about the office squirrels, Gilmore Girls and climbing on rooftops—and a whole lot more.
I never want someone to forgo the chance to be part of the incredible experience that is The Chronicle because they lack a sense of belonging: This is me telling you that you deserve to be here.
Around this time three years ago, I boldly declared that while college was great, I hadn't really learned a whole lot.
The Chronicle has both been my bane and my saving grace.
It feels surreal to already say goodbye, but in a way I have lived many lifetimes at The Chronicle.
Written as gerunds to communicate their ongoing and perpetual nature, these categories overlap and fracture into smaller ones and so are inexhaustive, but nevertheless serve to illustrate the story of the past few years.
As a senior, I have an opportunity to look back at my years, to see the campus culture from a different lens, and reflect on the change I have experienced while at this university.
How difficult could it be to run the paper while we were all apart? Answer: difficult.
March 4, 2020 was a relatively normal print production day.
When I walked out of the office on Wednesday night, at the end of my last editing shift, I wanted to stay because of the little things.
If I ever finish writing this column, it will run on the last day of classes, at the end of a very strange year.
It is truly amazing how many rooftops the average Duke student has access to, if only they’re possessed of a bobby pin, a good pair of climbing pants, and a childish contempt for authority.
One morning in the Chronicle office, after pulling an all-nighter to finish a PubPol memo, I saw a squirrel in front of me.
This is my first and final written contribution to a paper that has shaped my college experience beyond any other organization at Duke.
