It was incredibly inconsiderate that our video was used, very obviously, as the face of Duke’s racial equity initiative, without any notification of such actions or proper credit where credit was due.
In pandemic times, S/U is a vitally important vessel that can provide students with sorely needed academic flexibility.
If we demand justice and equality for all Black lives, we must examine our meaning of the word “all” and affirm its inclusivity.
To ensure that the administration follows through on their promise of transformative justice, we have to force their hand. And to do that, we have to keep from them what matters the most: our money.
I wonder about the people in charge who are acting with such nonchalance about our health and safety. I wonder whether their mother calls them to ask them how they’re breathing today.
Although calling for manifold actions across the university, Price’s far-reaching anti-racism commitments shared one thing in common: each would cost real money.
Facebook is potentially as detrimental to humanity as Big Tobacco ever was. It has certainly used the same corporate playbook.
It feels nearly impossible to find a sense of belonging in a place that negatively highlights your differences and denies your entry.
Duke University is defined and strengthened by the thousands of international undergraduate and graduate students in our community.
Over fifty years after the tumultuous events of 1969, one still must ask: Is change really coming?
Considering the university’s long, profitable history of entanglement with the tobacco industry, why should we see Duke’s leaders as trustworthy defenders of public health?
As a second child of Chinese immigrants, I uniquely owe my birth to the Black efforts that pushed for non-discriminatory policies.
Not only do we as Black people carry the generational trauma of our ancestors, we also carry their generational blessings and gifts. Alive in each of us is strength, love and power that will alter our current reality.
For some of us, convincing those closest to us might be harder than donating money and protesting. But if we cannot convince our parents, no one can.
I am proud to have stood in solidarity with my comrades, many of whom I have never met. And yet, I now feel as if they are all my extended family. My family of peace. My family of Durham.
At times, I want to look away from the violence, the hatred, the darkness. But even having that choice is a testament to my privilege.
You are less likely to take beneficial economic risks; the kind meant for the secure. You just want to make sure your family has what they need. You are extra attentive to messages from your parents. Usually, it means something is wrong.
Being poor was part of my identity for most of my life, but it’s not anymore. It is the best, strangest, most isolating thing to have ever happened to me.
Especially at a time like this, as we witness marginalized populations suffering the most in times of crisis, we need to take action in our own community in a more informed way.
While these small businesses wait and ponder their next steps, we should all consider what flash of hope we might be able to provide to the people who run them.
