Dr. Daniel Linden Duke – 50th Reunion Essay

Dr. Daniel Linden Duke

3679 Perthshire Ct.

Keswick, VA 22947

dld7g@virginia.edu

434-971-1745

Spouse(s): Cheryl Denise Duke (1981)

Child(ren): Joshua Martin Duke (1970); Devan Elena Duke (1982)

Education: Yale University. BA. June 1969; State University of New York at Albany. EdD. June 1975

Career: Asst.Professor, Stanford University, 1975-1981; Professor, Lewis & Clark College, 1981-1987; Professor, University of Virginia, 1987-2018

College: Davenport

I have resisted looking at my life in the rearview mirror. Somehow, backward glances always seemed to signal loss of momentum, an admission that the productive phase of my life had come to an end. Given the assignment of a personal essay for the Class of 1969 Yearbook, however, I was compelled to reflect. I do so knowing that such an exercise is bound to do an injustice to a complicated and meaningful life.

In May of 2018 I retired after 43 years as a professor, just in time to avoid being forced to teach online courses. As I type this essay (yes, I still use a typewriter and I don’t own a cell phone), my wife, Cheryl, and I are babysitting my daughter Devan’s two children (Noelle and Grace) and my stepson’s dog, Cam. At various times over the past two decades our children (his, hers, and ours) have lived with us for extended periods of time. This phenomenon, I am certain, is familiar to many of my classmates. So, too, was my opposition to the Vietnam War, my commitment to education and public service, my flirtation with country living (upstate New York), my stint in the Promised Land (California), my divorce, and my pilgrimage back home to Virginia. My life has been a robust blend of high expectations, fleeting and sustained successes, miserable disappointments, wonderful relationships, profound sorrow, and memorable moments of insight and pleasure. What more could one ask for?

I have lost touch with all of my Yale friends except Mac Thompson, who also lives in Charlottesville. AIDS and suicide claimed two close Yale friends, cancer several more. When I moved into President Brewster’s Hillhouse home for my senior year at Yale, my social circle diminished. Senior year was spent tutoring Riley Brewster (now a talented artist) and completing my Scholar of the House thesis in London.

My intention was to undertake a doctoral degree in African Studies and teach at Makerere University in Kampala, Uganda, but Idi Amin squelched that dream. My academic life since then has focused on developing educational leaders and assisting persistently low-performing public schools. I worry that public service no longer is valued as a meaningful career. The fact that anyone could become president used to be a wonderful selling point for the US. Now, regrettably, it is a source of angst.

As I enter retirement, I feel clearer about who I was than about who I am. Yale endowed me with the desire to leave the world better than I found it. Given the current condition of the world, I’m going to be pretty busy in my remaining days.