Did I pick the right college?

18 Mar 2009, Posted by Jacob Wolff in Backpages, Jacob Wolff, 6 Comments

Flying back to school after Spring Break always brings out the worst in people.  Due to the fact that professors and students have irreconcilably different definitions of  “Spring Break” (professors think it’s the perfect time to assign extra work, while students see the word ‘break’ and space out for a week), most of us find our trips back to Duke and the piles of work that await rather gloomy.

My flight back to Durham this Saturday night was no different.  I spent a lot of my break dealing with summer internship stuff, so I could literally hear my books beckoning grimly from my dorm room.  Though I tried my hardest to fall asleep (thus putting off work even longer), the rather loud and talkative people around me kept me up.  I eventually gave up on sleep and engaged in the more rewarding experience of eavesdropping (before you judge, realize it’s impossible not to eavesdrop on a plane).

I quickly found out I had unknowingly sat myself right behind a group of girls from UNC returning from their Spring Break in Las Vegas, and in front of ten or so students from Appalachian State who were coming back from volunteering on an Indian reservation.

I have to admit, it was really interesting listening to their conversations (again, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but you can’t really help it).  For a while, I was enthralled listening to the UNC girls giggle about about their sexual exploits.  Though the Appalachian State kids’ conversation wasn’t as juicy, they seemed to be having just as much fun.  But something didn’t feel right… and eventually it dawned upon me: these people all seemed genuinely happy.

I was shocked.  Coming back from Spring Break, shouldn’t they be just as sad as I was?  But instead of wallowing in despair, they were all smiling.  When the pilot (must have been a Duke fan) got on the intercom to rub that day’s UNC loss in a bit, the UNC girls booed and laughed and joked around.  The Appalachian State kids spent the whole flight goofing around, and even somehow convinced the airplane staff to let them hand out the snacks and collect the garbage (not my idea of fun, but they seemed to be having a good time).

Nothing sparks an introspective meander into one’s mind like a nice bout of turbulence.  Though everyone knows planes are safer than cars, when that plane’s a rockin’, the regrets come a knockin’.  So when our plane hit a rough patch of weather, I started to wonder if I had made the right choice to come to Duke (OK…  first I thought about who would come to my funeral, then I thought about my college choice).  I mean, here I was, a depressed Dukie, blue as could be, yet for these other kids, it seemed Spring Break was just starting.

I’ll admit, I’ve questioned my choice of coming to Duke more than a couple of times.   Anyone who tells you they haven’t wondered at least once if they should have gone somewhere else is a liar (aside from a few uber-Dukies).  So as I’m sitting on this plane, I start to think, why didn’t I go somewhere else?  If I went to UNC, or Appalachian State, maybe I could be as happy as these other kids right now.  Thus the despondency grew.

The gloominess stuck with me all flight.  I couldn’t shake it… once you start questioning the foundations of the last three years of your life, it’s tough to think of anything else.    When I got back to my dorm, I was feeling nostalgic (when you feel sad, you long for the “good ol’ days” I suppose).  I was flipping through old Facebook photo albums and a realization hit me.   As I was looking at old high school pictures and thinking about what colleges my friends in the photos were at now, I didn’t wonder whether their school was big or small, liberal or conservative, public or private, party school or academically oriented, etc.  In fact, I didn’t really define them by their colleges at all.   Frankly, I defined them as friends.

Those people on the plane weren’t happy because they went to UNC, or because they went to Appalachian State.  They were happy because they were with real friends.   Now of course, perhaps UNC or Appalachian State, or Duke for that matter, may have a tendency to attract a certain type of person, and thus there may be more or less people there who share common interests with you, but that’s not the whole story.  Generalizing an entire student body can make it very easy to blame one’s sorrow on the fact that a school is “really conservative” or “dominated by the Greek scene.”   To a certain degree, these arguments have merit.  But I think I’ve realized that Duke, like most schools, is diverse enough that anyone can find a niche.  It may be more difficult for some, but the fact is, at Duke there is a set of great friends for everyone. Would my life be different if I had gone to UNC?  Of course it would. But somewhere there is a sad UNC student sitting behind a group of Dukies laughing about their Spring Break on a plane back to school. School choice only matters so much.

Now I’m not trying to sound like a tacky Duke admissions packet, but college truly is what you make of it.  The next time you find yourself wondering if you went to the right college… a better question might be whether or not you joined the right clubs, started a conversation with that kid next to you in class or really put yourself out there at the school you’re at now. Although choosing the right school for you is important, making the most of the one you picked will define just how glum you feel on your next flight back from Spring Break.

Mine’s bigger than yours!

17 Mar 2009, Posted by Braden Hendricks in Backpages, Braden Hendricks, 2 Comments

All those folks in the United Arab Emirates must laugh themselves to sleep every night, warm and comfortably insulated in the thick blanket of their self satisfaction. Any time one of them meets anyone from a different country, they can say what nobody else can: “We have the biggest, tallest building in the whole world!”

It’s true, they do. Dubai, one of seven emirates in the UAE, is home to the Burj Dubai, a tower of glass and steel so tall it defies the imagination. I went to New York City not to long ago, and was amazed by the Empire State Building. Well, the Burj Dubai is as tall as two Empire State Buildings stacked on top of one another—and they’re not even done yet.

Say what? If that’s difficult to picture, here’s a chart:

Really? I mean, really?

It’s a pretty impressive sight. I know this from the internet:

Wow. They're not playing around.

Yeah. I would tell you how tall that is, but it’s a secret. No, I’m not kidding. Estimates, however, place the final height somewhere around 2,650 ft.

So I guess the whole idea is that Dubai is trying to become the world’s playground or something. The entire place looks fantastic, right out of some architect’s wet dream. But really, what’s the point of all this?

Well, there could be a lot of points, but I suspect it all comes down to a case playground immaturity. The UAE now has the ultimate bragging rights among any and all building enthusiasts. These guys must either be really psyched or really jealous.

Or, it could be that the UAE has come to realize something quite startling: those oil deposits everyone’s been living off of? They’re not going to last forever. In a country that has oil and sand to offer, when the oil runs out, that’s something of a problem. What better way to overcome it than by becoming the envy of the world? By becoming everything Las Vegas wishes it could be, Dubai is gambling that when the oil runs dry, tourism will supply the cash flow.

It’s a hell of a plan, and it might even work. It’s not like any of the other OPEC countries are doing anything. Really though, it’s as if Dubai is expecting the Sauds and company to catch on soon, because they’re not taking any chances. Or maybe since no other countries are responding to the competition, the UAE just wants to outdo itself. In any case, a bigger, taller tower is already being proposed. The two names under consideration seem to be Al Burj and the Nakheel Tower. It would look like this:

Now that’s just mental.

Why I’m starting to worry

06 Mar 2009, Posted by Ade Sawyer in Ade Sawyer, Backpages, 1 Comments

I should confess that while many have feared economic doom and gloom, I’ve been pretty relaxed and calm.  My mom’s a teacher, and Duke’s financial aid initiative isn’t going anywhere before next school year, so I figure I’m OK for a least a little while.  But even for me, this week has been a little worrisome.

Between $30 billion extra for AIG, the house voting to let bankruptcy judges rewrite mortgages, and the government acquiring a nearly 40 percent stake in Citi the government is dipping more deeply into the financial system than it has since the Great Depression.  Granted, many politicians have called this crisis the worst since the Great Depression, but to me that seems a little dubious.  Though the market sits at about a twelve-year low and unemployment is at about 8 percent, the figures aren’t nearly as bad as the actual Great Depression when unemployment rose as high as 25 percent.

Still, the White House and the Democrats seem to be using the opportunity to push measures that would have been much more difficult to push in normal times.  (Aside: After two decades of huge consumption, it’s hard to say what ‘normal’ is)  As Rahm Emanuel said shortly after the election, crises can be used to advance agendas that wouldn’t have been as feasible at other times.  Dick Cheney and Karl Rove could have told him that.

Times are bad though.  That not in question.  And certainly the move toward laissez faire and deregulation that the Bush administration pushed can’t continue.  There’s no doubt that the government has to step in at some level.  The question is a matter of degree.  Keynesian measures are definitely necessary now, but not to the degree that they threaten to replace or mute the effects of private enterprise and competition.  I’m no expert, but with injections of trillions of dollars into the economy in such a short period of time it seems like a plausible risk.

The people working on all of this are smart and pretty trustworthy.  But I can’t say I don’t worry a little…

Ask Jeff

05 Mar 2009, Posted by Jeff Ditzler in Backpages, Jeff Ditzler, 1 Comments

Dear Jeff,

Right now, there’s a huge pro-McCain banner hanging from the KA section. Don’t you think it’s a bit late for that?
—A. Liberal, Few quad

Dear Liberal,
You’re one to talk, considering that half of you liberals are still sporting Kerry-Edwards bumper stickers on your Priuses (or is it Prii?). At any rate, I’m not sure it’s as overtly political as you suggest. Considering that, so far, the stock market has reacted to the Obama administration in about the same way that my sinuses react to pollen in April, perhaps they’re just trying to extend an olive branch to all the future bankers out there.

Dear Jeff,
Why is there such a fuss over Obama being the first black president, but none over, say, Colin Powell being the first black secretary of state?
—Miffed Conservative

Dear Miffed,
Do you want to listen to Jay-Z rapping, “My secretary of state is black, but his secretary of state’s office is white”? I rest my case.

Dear Jeff,
Why did Duke and most of Durham close down due to a couple inches of snow this past Monday? When I was growing up in Massachusetts, we walked 20 miles through the snow to school, uphill both ways, and we liked it.
—Aggrieved Yankee

Dear Aggrieved,
This is a common misconception among Yankees. You are correct that the small amount of snow we got, by itself, did not justify the wave of cancellations. However, once combined with North Carolina drivers, even a little snow can become a catastrophe.

Dear Jeff,
What are your thoughts regarding the global economic crisis and its effect on the future of the European Union, especially the Scandinavian countries?
—Swedish Supermodel

Dear Supermodel,
The economic crisis is much too complicated to explain thoroughly in a forum like this blog. Why don’t you stop by my dorm some time, so we can talk about it in more detail?

Duke’s unjustifiable housing: A response

04 Mar 2009, Posted by Jane Chong in Backpages, Backtalk, 5 Comments

Cue big sigh.

I appreciate some of the feedback I’ve gotten in so far as it was written and sent, which suggests effort. But the isolated attempt at reading my Feb. 23 column on housing as an all-out attack on not only selectives but also the people in them is exactly the kind of defensive-offensive play that has shut down all productive conversation on the residential model for so long.

This is not a war, and West Campus sections are not territories to be won or lost. As a senior, I have no “stake” in such a blood bath, if these are the unfortunate terms with which we should choose to frame the issue. We—that is, I as well as those who care about Duke in the expansive sense—are talking about our vision for Duke now and 20 years from now—our vision for an inclusive, rather than exclusive, campus community.

To put it in bullet points: we are talking about the inescapable fact that there is a racial and socioeconomic breakdown between West and Central. Moreover, to directly address some main points brought up in response to my column, we are talking about the fact that as part of our current “system,” students are selected or rejected on the basis of undisclosed criteria by groups of peers who have the authority to determine who lives where—authority that derives from “tradition” rather than fairness, practicality or common sense. We are talking about the fact that “rejection” from a fraternity or selective—a sad fate that many SLG proponents perhaps escaped and thus fail to seriously consider—is a double whammy for the rejected, who are not only out of luck in terms of bagging a group of prospective friends (whose desirability is heightened by the institutional legitimacy granted to their name or letters), but also out of luck in terms of desirable housing.

I believe that, on the whole, people actually like and identify with their SLGs and that the decision to rush either fraternities or selectives is not generally fueled by a simple desire for housing. I think, however, that acting on the simple desire for decent housing is perfectly justifiable as an end in itself.

In other words, I don’t see the desire for housing as simple or selfish at all. After all, where you live has major ramifications for the kind of intellectual and social life you will have the opportunity to cultivate as a Duke student. Nor do I see  the desire to live with a specific group of people as something to be put on a pedestal.

Wanting to live in a certain dorm, on a certain campus or within a certain community—these are not things to be derided, any more than is the desire for membership into a certain fraternity or selective. Nobody is denying that fraternities and selectives provide their members invaluable relationships and experiences. Nobody is calling for their wholesale dismantling. The reality that has emerged, however, is that current housing practices severely disadvantage those who cannot afford, were not chosen for or chose against joining fraternity or selective life. And this is unacceptable.

Duke’s housing model is exactly what my column headline suggests: unjustifiable, on a practical and theoretical plane. The fact that a discussion of the principles and unsavory demographic realities underlying our housing practices could so quickly turn into a discussion framed in terms of “attack” and “defense” is disturbing, but useful for highlighting the problem (read my supplementary Feb. 24 blog entry for a “thought experiment” modeled specifically on this issue).

Our housing system is embedded with structural dichotomies between those who are in, and those who are out. Fill in the blanks as you will. My point is that it is only too easy to think up all the possible contentious pairings. And it is a point that certain complaints in response to my column beautifully underscore.

I understand there are all sorts of subtleties, especially when you start pulling out the numbers, but these only reveal some of the more truly disturbing implications of closing our eyes to the problems with the current residential model.

For example, of the 30 percent of West Campus beds reserved for fraternities and SLGs, 77 percent are male, and the argument has been made that the imbalance is not merely attributable to but also justifiable because sororities have consistently turned down the offer for housing. Sorority preferences do not change the disadvantage to male independents, who are allotted fewer beds on West to maintain an even gender ratio. More importantly, though it may be true that sororities have refused housing, this preference is as much a function of historical practice as is the fraternities’ insistence on keeping housing. Not only could it be argued that fraternities, too, could continue to exist without being granted the privilege of guaranteed housing, but the sororities’ practical desire to live as independents should absolutely NOT “make acceptable” the fact that the predominance of male-owned social space on West ensures a distinctly gendered, undeniably lopsided power dynamic within Duke’s social scene.

As an end note: as a freshman, sophomore or junior, I could not have imagined the breadth and depth of our housing problems, and their implications for campus culture. My perspective is a culminating one. I speak not as an “authoritative senior,” but simply as a student who has lived on East, West and Central; as an unaffiliated sophomore who was “pushed off West” as a rising junior but who came to prefer Central to the point of opting to live there as a senior; as a friend to independents as well as fraternity brothers; as a soon-to-be-graduate who has seen how special it can feel to belong to a “selective” of any kind, living group or not, and how demoralizing it is to be made to feel stuck on the outside looking in.

Duke is not a battlefield. Duke is our home. And if I can, I want to make it yours in an even more complete sense than it has been for me.