As the Center for Multicultural Affairs celebrates its 45th Anniversary this year, it is important to acknowledge that the center has come a long way with the support of students.
My name is Nicholas Antonicci, I use the pronouns he/him/his, and I'm the Director of the Center for Sexual and Gender Diversity here at Duke University.
Yesterday, I woke to the news of tragedy of 50 innocent people killed at Pulse Nightclub in Orlando, a gay bar on a night celebrating Latinx people and communities.
I struggle to put feelings and emotions into words, to put pain into soundbites that appease and comfort those around me.
I struggle with balancing immense sadness for the lives lost, with anger at the forces which allowed this to happen and will continue to happen, namely homophobia and transphobia. I balance wanting to care for others, with frustration in the ways many of those who are responding are centering the feelings of heterosexual and cis peoples.
Dear Duke Families,
As I look out my office window, I have the privilege of seeing our students walking (and rushing) by between classes, meals, meetings and study venues. So many things are apparent on the rare occasion that I get to just pause and admire the passersby. I notice that many seem either immune to the winter chill or in denial about the need to wear warmer clothes! I notice that rarely is anyone walking alone. Students travel in pairs, groups and masses! I notice that some kind of technological device is apparently welded to their ears or their palms (hopefully talking or texting with you). But, I also notice how remarkably different they are, reflecting the substantial and wonderful diversity within the Duke student body.
A friar, an imam and a rabbi walk into a lounge â¦ This might sound like the start of a joke, but actually, itâs the start of an interfaith gathering on campus. The Duke Chapel Lounge is not a 70s-era bar with dim lighting, fruity drinks and mood music, but it is a place where connections are made and interfaith interaction happens on a regular basis.
by Sean H. Palmer, Assistant Director, MLWC
Anonymous, from Race Speaks, published by the Center for Multicultural Affairs
Before I could mumble a word about myself, I was white. This is evident by the information on my birth certificate. I never knew my biological father and I have never met him. He left before I was born. Nonetheless, he was white, my mother was white, and so I was white. I had no say. It was what people told me I was. Simple enough? Well, not really. It’s quite complex.