Disclaimer: This letter is not just for incoming first year students, but for all college students. The process of "finding yourself" is a life-long task-- a theme especially relevant to newbies, but undoubtedly crucial to upperclass men and women as well. (But if you're still left looking for "more" than a pep-talk about soul-searching, I encourage you to read this about making "more" out Duke's, or any college's, sometimes hectic ethos.)

Dear Soul-Searching College Student,

Two year ago, when I was a freshman at Duke people would ask me – friends, family, strangers– what’s your major?

My reply was “Pre-Med” with neuroscience. (Hint: most of us don't actually have majors at Duke until we declare it; exception of the Pratt Stars.)

I choose Duke because it had a strong neuroscience program – when delineating my school choices I had tunnel vision: I only considered schools that offered a neuroscience or cognitive science academic pathway. I was fascinated with the brain, and I still am. But my conception of education, and education as it relates to “success,” was very limited when transitioning to Duke.

For years, I’d been fed scraps from the table of higher education. I saw glimpses of the banquet that championed lawyers, doctors, politicians, and big-moneyed, wide-eyed bankers. The feast featured a small cutlet of career choices – presupposing these careers came with a nice lump-some of fatty, liquid gold. (I’m not talking about butter.)

I thought I wanted to be a doctor. I was fed on the fictions of generations who had “done” college and the “real world” before me. Those catering the meal were our high schools, our media, our movies, our music, and our families. I don’t hold them accountable nor do I blame them for guiding me to believe that success looks like a white lab coat, aphasia-patients, and a human brain.

But I was naïve; running along the tracks of a system that I didn't even realize I had been participating and conspiring in.

My disillusionment with careerism, medicine, and parts of the Duke culture hit hard. I’ll spare the details of my cynicism, and describe where I’m at now, and why I’m here.

My wake up call came in the form of one question:

“Who am I?”

Right then, in that moment, starting as a first-year at Duke University I had hundreds of people telling me how great I was; people telling us how successful and victorious we had been – rising above masses of interested applicants; family members lauding the accomplishment of getting into a school like Duke; friends from home told me I had an incredible, once in a lifetime opportunity: everyone said, “You deserve this. You’ve earned it.”

And yes, there is massive accomplishment in matriculation to a place like Duke – matriculation that comes, for the most part, with dedication, hard work, enthusiasm, and much finesse – academically, athletically, or even socially. I cannot deny that.

But, people were defining me by success.

People were defining me by the success that I could achieve within, and beyond, my Duke career.

People were defining me.

How long had I worked to please and fulfill other’s definitions of who they thought I was?

For years, I had neglected, not wholeheartedly, but quite noticeably the one person that mattered most in my college education: me.

So my story took a turn. I explored, took a slew of random classes that interested me, and stumbled upon one of my passions: English.

I guess you could say this is where my piece takes a turn. For I’m no longer talking about myself, but I want to address the intellectual community that you will be entering.

Duke is branded as a research institution that stands as a haven to the “liberal arts education.”

This is quite true. All you need to graduate are 34 credits, or classes, and to declare a major – which usually consists have less than 12 courses. You then have at least two years – four semesters – of academic exploration.

Explore, explore, explore! There's no better opportunity than a liberal arts education to explore disciplines, unite interests, activate passions, and discover new things about yourself and your world.

Some of our peers are heavily ambitious, and heavily dedicated to their future selves and not their current selves. What I mean is this: some students are sellouts. They are selling themselves out for a conception of success, which is commonly preached among high performing students at high performing universities. They are in pursuit of a career – not an education – and for the most part their education becomes dedicated towards realizing this career.

I agree, my argument sounds foolish, but I hold to it unwaveringly. College does not have to be just about attaining a job. College, first and foremost, is about finding yourself.

My hypothesis is this: the majority of incoming college students do not know who they are. We are flooded with images and fictions that we like to believe we can live up too – and there is nothing wrong with pursuing the example laid out by those who have gone before us – but be wary. Do not let someone else do the dreaming for you.

Dream your own dream.

Find your own place. And if you can’t find it, make it.

Duke intellectual culture and intellectual space can appear dominant with careerists who have pursued the dream implanted in them. I laud those (and there are many of these great individuals, unlike me) who have a vast reserve of self-awareness and self-consciousness - they know their gifts and their passions - and they are in hot pursuit of what they know they are called to do and be in this world.

But this is not the case for everyone; it certainly is not for myself.

Duke can be a one-sided conversation, sometimes; a conversation dominated by where "I will be" or where "I want to be" and not where "I am."

High school takes the shape of preparation for college. If done right, the soul-searching could have happened during these four years – but from my experience, I was set on A.) Not making a fool of myself and B.) Getting into college.

So that leaves the “soul-searching” for either pre-K , grade school, middle school, a gap year, or for college.

Don’t sell yourself out for a vision that you’ve been told to lock eyes with. See with your own eyes the person that you are, and then see with your own eyes the person that you can be, and go after it!

You can find your soul, your passion in any major. You can choose any path of course work and do it right – as long as you start from a place of self-knowledge and purpose.

I affirm this: College is about finding yourself. To all of you who feel lost and confused right now – great! Welcome aboard, you’ve got four years to answer one question:

“Who are you?”

The clock starts soon; I hope your ready.

Sincerely,

A guy who is still finding himself and just happens to be majoring in English, and may or may not go into teaching (undecided; because there's still time to figure it all out)