They are as rare as panda bears, shooting stars, and four leaf clovers—Duke students who break the mold and venture off the set path. The biggest ethical dilemma facing our student body is how we reconcile what we are expected to do with what we actually want from life.
Students at Duke are very good at doing what is expected of them. Study hard, and be involved in 5-7 activities—at least two in which you hold a leadership position (since that is the most important part of a resume). Spend a summer in Africa “saving the world”, a summer in DC meeting politicians, and a summer in consulting making money. Volunteer enough to feel good about yourself, party enough to be likeable, and get good enough grades to go to an Ivy League school after Duke (finally!). Everything in our lifestyles reflects this idea of “having it all”–just look at any student’s Facebook page and you’ll know exactly what I mean.
There is nothing wrong with wanting any of this, and each of these pursuits is actually quite valuable. The problem comes when this set path and the expectations placed upon us inhibit our individuality, our thirst to take risks, and our ability to live life to its fullest. I hardly ever see Duke students attend a church in Durham in the hopes to meet new people, walk through the gardens just to appreciate nature, or do their optional reading assignments for the sake of learning. I am accusing myself, as I have never done any of these things. There simply is no time in our hectic, over-programmed lives.
Earlier this week, I was flunch-ing one of my professors and he said, “I never see people here being bored. And boredom is an extremely productive thing.” This statement shocked me, as boredom is something I have not had time to feel in my past four years at Duke. I thought I was being productive by always doing something, but maybe I lost something by never taking the time to just do nothing.
I reconcile this dilemma by telling myself that I will have plenty of time to be bored, take risks, and do the things I love after I leave Duke. But then I realize this is exactly what I told myself in high school, when I was taking 7 AP classes and leading as many clubs as I could to get into a top college. And honestly, are we really going to have any more free time working 80-hour weeks as lawyers, investment bankers, or doctors?
We will never make the time to do these things until we change what we value, as individuals and as an institution. Our students will continue on the set path of what is expected at them, not only during Duke, but afterwards as well. And at the end of this path, I fear that I may look back and feel that I have not actually lived my life in the way that I hoped to.