Outlets such as Me Too Monologues and Duke Confess are important and probably do facilitate stimulating debate, but they’re also both incredibly emotionally overwhelming.
I volunteered at my county’s resource center for battered and disempowered women for three years in high school. Not once was I allowed to interact with a client because simply put, I’m not qualified. Emotional issues are heavy burdens that require licensed, professional attention. Unloading students’ personal mental and emotional struggles onto their peers may show some that they are not alone in how they feel. However, for others, such confidences are a burden that they are not ready to take on. Ultimately, any resultant discussion can be positive since more people are being educated about topics they may not know much about. On the other hand, such discussions can also quickly turn into generalizations made from outsider perspectives that end up hurting the students who shared such experiences. Since Me Too and Duke Confess are both based off of anonymity, it is impossible to ever have a true debate about the exact issues raised. This is a direct result of the author of one side of the argument always remaining unknown. I am not condemning the importance of conversation spurred by the insurance of anonymity, but instead questioning the lasting impact of such conversations.
What Me Too and Duke Confess do show us is that clearly there are some deep-seated issues that people here – and everywhere else – need to work out. That is a perfectly normal part of being human. CAPS is an under-advertised, and probably under-utilized, resource that provides a safe environment of healing through discussion. I am not advocating for keeping these very real problems behind closed doors; rather, I am advocating for a stronger starting point. Instead of discussing serious issues in survey-monkey type forum where perspectives can easily be lost or distorted, individuals should seek one-on-one conversations, starting with professionals. If we aren’t equipped to articulate our thoughts and feelings when talking to just one other person, these discussions can quickly turn divisive and destructive when multiple parties and viewpoints become involved. For example, the Facebook page for the ASA Protest was filled with frustration on both sides, each party feeling that they had been misunderstood and misquoted. Learning how to talk about what bothers us in an empowered manner takes practice, and there’s nothing wrong with seeking help in that department. After all, we go to office hours for problem sets, so why shouldn’t we go CAPS for our emotional problems? Thus, I am not belittling the value of venting publicly, but rather pointing out how spreading discontent without the balance of potential solutions can be poisonous.
It’s not surprising that many Duke students are disillusioned and dissatisfied with some aspects of their time here at Duke. After all, on a whole we are astute, engaging, and pursuers of, if not perfection, then at least improvement. It’s hard to accept that Duke is not the utopia that admissions brochures like to advertise, and it’s hard to believe that individual actions are not enough to immediately spur change. But change comes in many forms, and by perpetuating positives instead of spreading more of the extremely prevalent negativities, good change can start to take place sooner. National Eating Disorder Awareness Week highlights this exact mentality: on one of the posters in the BC, someone shared that while Duke Encourage is appreciated, it doesn’t erase years of self-abusive thoughts. And honestly, being constantly reminded on campus of the statistics of who and how and why many people suffer from eating disorders are exactly that: reminders… reminders of my own insecurities. When does the celebration of differences turn into a deflation of our individual experience?
Ultimately, the sharing of these differences and our adversity spurs growth in both others and us. Senior Alex Shapanka recently blogged about leadership being more than a mere title, but rather a way of taking initiative in life’s daily moments. He says, “Campus is plagued with an endless stream of complaints about culture. Yet all of the ‘solutions’ suggest increased dialogue and actions that occur on levels that exclude the general population – the ones who live and determine the culture.” He suggests that we replace the mandatory freshman seminar with a seminar on leadership and principles instead, and Writing 101 (20) with a seminar similar to Common Ground. I agree with his sentiment that “Combined, these courses would help students know themselves and their peers better. They would challenge our identities and push us to improve our character. We would have a campus of leaders ready to make change rather than just talk about it.” Essentially, talk is cheap. We all have to start somewhere, but campus-wide action rather than just spurts of concentrated interest in these issues from certain groups is necessary.
Images: 1