Standing in a dimly lit archive room in Kunming, the capital city of Yunnan province in China, Zach Fredman squinted at piles of dusty, handwritten documents covered in traditional Chinese characters—far from the simplified characters he had painstakingly learned.
It was a daunting task: to piece together the experiences of American servicemen stationed in China during World War II for his first book. Hours melted into days as he sifted through mountains of paper, many irrelevant, occasionally stumbling upon a gem that made the tedious search worthwhile.
“It was exhausting,” Fredman recalled with a wry smile, “but by the end, my proficiency in Chinese peaked. Archivists only needed to assist me with a few tricky characters each day.”
Trained in history with a focus on U.S.-China relations, he has most recently explored the U.S. military’s overseas recreation program during the Vietnam War, spanning archives across the U.S., U.K., Australia, China, Singapore, Malaysia, Vietnam and the Philippines.
“My research has become more transnational compared to my previous work,” he said, reflecting on his efforts to weave multiple historical narratives into a broader global framework.
Fredman’s experience captures the spirit of Duke Kunshan University’s Division of Arts and Humanities—a place where crossing disciplinary and national boundaries is not just encouraged but essential.
Now the division chair and an associate professor of history, Fredman joined Duke Kunshan University as part of the undergraduate program’s first faculty cohort in 2018, the year DKU welcomed its first undergraduate class. He was captivated by the opportunity to help build something new, diverse and boldly collaborative.
“Traditional universities, whether in the U.S. or China, often lacked this level of diversity,” Fredman said. “Here, DKU draws people from all over the world, creating a truly global learning environment.”
That’s not just talk—DKU is home to students and faculty from more than 70 countries, bringing a remarkable mix of languages, cultures, and academic traditions into one shared space.
Interdisciplinary by design
When James Miller first arrived at DKU from Canada, there wasn’t even an Arts and Humanities Division—just a handful of curious minds and big ideas.
“It was really just a bunch of Professor James Millers,” he joked. “People wanting to take risks to build something new.”
He wasn’t looking for a conventional academic role. He was looking for a chance to start from scratch—a chance, as he puts it, “to reimagine what a university could be.”
Now a professor of humanities and associate dean for interdisciplinary initiatives at DKU, Miller has become one of the leading architects of DKU’s intellectual framework. His passion lies in the intersections—those fertile spaces where subjects rub up against one another and spark new ways of thinking.
“The main difference between DKU and a traditional liberal arts college is how we integrate different disciplines within each major,” Miller said. “In most universities, you have a traditional major—like physics or history—while also taking courses in other fields. But here, we blend these areas together within the same major.”
“It challenges students to not only learn from different disciplines but also to integrate them into new ways of thinking. That’s what makes DKU truly unique.”
That mindset runs deep. In the Global Challenges course, faculty from history, science and philosophy co-teach to help students tackle complex issues such as emerging infectious diseases and climate change.
“In the real world, solving problems requires expertise from different fields, so why not start in the classroom?” Miller asked.
In Miller’s Global China course, students are asked to imagine China’s role in the world 20 years from now. The assignment fuses geopolitical analysis with science fiction, ethics and historical context.
“It’s a mix of creativity, speculation and rigorous academic research,” he said. “This kind of forecasting is a crucial skill—in business, policy and life.”
Miller’s own research blends culture and cosmology. One recent project examined China’s space program not just through science and politics but also mythology, convening a conference with scientists, artists and philosophers to explore ancient stories tied to lunar exploration.
Even students from STEM fields can find their way into the humanities at DKU. Junyi Tao, Class of 2023, majored in data science but had Miller as her academic advisor. Under his mentorship, she formed an interdisciplinary research team exploring semantic shifts across Chinese philosophical texts—spanning Confucianism, Daoism, Mohism, and Legalism.
Now a Stanford graduate student majoring in Symbolic Systems, Tao studies the relationship between human thoughts and human-made machines. “Such abstract and broad topics need to be approached from multidisciplinary perspectives,” she explained.
That same interdisciplinary spirit shaped the path of Honey Huang, a member of DKU’s inaugural Class of 2022, who received the prestigious Yenching Scholarship from Peking University. Her Signature Work project at DKU focused on the relationship between traditional Chinese medicine and Daoism—an experience that inspired her to pursue a master’s in China Studies (philosophy track) at the Yenching Academy.
“Although I didn’t major in philosophy or take many philosophy courses at DKU,” Huang said, “many of our interdisciplinary classes were connected to philosophical thinking.”
Faculty across the division bring their own interdisciplinary flair. Stephanie Anderson, assistant professor of literature and creative writing, blends literature with book arts and sustainability. In her Texts in Motion course, students create their own books—some using 3D printing and others using recycled materials.
“These projects make me excited about teaching,” she said. “They fundamentally alter students’ relationships with literature and creativity.”
And then there’s Zairong Xiang—a professor who defies titles, wears neon hair like a manifesto, and treats tea time as a philosophical ritual. Officially, he’s an associate professor of comparative literature and director of arts at DKU. Unofficially? He’s a quiet force of change. Working across multiple languages and equally at home quoting Lacan and Laozi, or curating art biennales and film programs, Xiang sees the arts and humanities not as a career path but a way of sense-making of the world.
His recent work, including the curation of the 14th Shanghai Biennale “Cosmos Cinema” and the highly acclaimed exhibition “How to Be Happy Together?” in Hong Kong—dives headfirst into questions most disciplines shy away from: contradiction, coexistence, and the meaning of joy in most unexpected de/couplings. He sees interdisciplinarity not as a buzzword, but as a rebellion.
“It’s about developing, reflecting on, and defying disciplinary divisions of the modern/colonial 19th century,” Xiang said.
If for him, the purpose of the arts and humanities is to help us grapple with helplessness, love, loss, and the great cosmic comedy of existence, then for Hwa Yeong Wang, they are a bridge between ancient wisdom and modern ethics.
An assistant professor of philosophy and co-founder of the Harmony Lab at DKU, Wang brings Confucianism into conversation with feminist theory, undertaking an interdisciplinary approach drawn from anthropology, history, literature, and religious studies.
“We don’t have departments here,” Hwa Yeong Wang said. “Instead, faculty from diverse backgrounds work together.”
For DKU students, interdisciplinary learning wasn’t just a feature of their education—it was the heart of it. Zu Gan, a student from Malaysia in the Class of 2025, explored psychology, mathematics, and the arts before discovering how deeply connected they were.
“As surprising as it may seem, I feel that STEM and the arts and humanities have a lot of overlap,” Gan said.
“The distinct disciplines we see today are a modern phenomenon—we often forget that they share the same roots,” Zu Gan said.
Mateja Bokan, Class of 2026, knew he belonged in the arts and humanities. Growing up in Serbia, he was surrounded by music and the arts—spaces that encouraged deep reflection on human experience. At DKU, he majors in Ethics and Leadership with a track in Religious Studies.
“Over time, I’ve learned to appreciate the strengths of both humanities-based critical analysis and social science research,” he said, noting how DKU’s interdisciplinary model helped him synthesize ideas across fields.
Students as co-creators
During a Chinese literature class in high school, Yilin Xu once broke down in tears, overwhelmed by the raw power of words to carry grief and memory across time.
The passion brought her to DKU, just minutes from her childhood home in Kunshan. Four years later, she left DKU with the same passion and a bunch of offers—from Duke, University of Chicago and others—before choosing Emory University, where she earned a full ride to pursue a Ph.D. program in comparative literature.
“At DKU, I didn’t just study texts,” said Yilin Xu, Class of 2024. “I learned how to think critically, create boldly, and work closely with professors who truly care.”
Stephanie Anderson was her mentor for four years, guiding her through reading-intensive courses and creative book-making projects that blurred the line between scholarship and art.
Later, Xu joined Anderson’s long-term research project on women in independent publishing, contributing annotations and archival summaries that helped bring the final manuscript to life. The book was published in 2024—with Xu’s name listed in the acknowledgments. Other students also contributed to resource curation and archival work and even built a website to accompany the book.
“The students here really care,” Stephanie Anderson said. “They push projects forward in ways I wouldn’t have expected.”
Yin-Chu Lu, a Class of 2023 student from Taiwan, didn’t expect a single class at DKU to reshape her path—but that’s exactly what happened. During her first year, she enrolled in James Miller’s course on environmental ethics and found herself captivated by the intersections of Daoism, Confucianism, and ecology.
Inspired, she created an experimental short film exploring those ideas. Miller saw the video and was so impressed that he invited her to join the Planetary Ethics and Artificial Intelligence Lab as a student researcher.
One of the lab’s projects involved turning DKU’s campus into a cosmic map. Alongside classmates, Lu helped organize a participatory art event that used flashlights and drone footage to recreate the Big Dipper, symbolizing the seven stages of cosmic evolution.
“That experience helped me see how the arts and humanities can shape the way we connect with the planet—and with one another,” she said.
Lu’s curiosity didn’t stop there. Another project took her to Kunshan’s temples, where she documented local traditions through photography and ethnographic research. The work left a lasting impression on Miller.
“It was beautiful,” he said. “Exactly the kind of work the humanities are meant to inspire.”
That spirit of discovery eventually sparked a deeper calling. Encouraged by faculty mentorship and inspired by her research, Lu chose to pursue theology at Harvard University.
“The professors I worked with influenced me a lot,” Lu said. “It was their collaboration and encouragement that helped me find my direction.”
Other collaborations abound. Across the Division of Arts and Humanities at DKU, mentoring and collaboration are baked into the culture.
Albert (Shuhuai) Zhang, Class of 2023, joined the Summer Research Scholars (SRS) program by assisting with a faculty-led project about a Jewish refugee community in Shanghai during World War II, which evolved into an interdisciplinary research project.
“Loving history is one thing,” Zhang said. “Doing research means learning how to track down sources, evaluate them, and build something meaningful from the evidence.”
Zhang sifted through archival materials, helped create an interactive timeline of the Shanghai Ghetto, and contributed to the team’s final academic report, which Fredman praised.
“The work our students did was truly original,” said Fredman. “That’s what happens when students are trusted to push boundaries.”
While some students found purpose in libraries and fieldwork, others raced against the clock in the high-pressure world of filmmaking. With guidance from Kaley Clements, assistant professor of media and arts, a DKU post-production team took on the Shanghai 48-Hour Film Festival—a weekend-long challenge where everything, from scriptwriting to final edits, had to be done in two days.
Their entry, “Requiem for a Martyr,” was a visually striking kung fu drama set in ancient China. The movie triumphed, clinching multiple awards including best film, editing, cinematography, sound design and lighting. It went on to represent Shanghai at the global Filmapalooza festival in Los Angeles.
“We had a great team, and it was an excellent learning experience for them,” said Clements. “Winning an award is a testament to their talent and how far the film program has come at Duke Kunshan.”
The crew included students Kaiqi Wu and Yaoyun Qi, as well as other professionals. They worked on the fly—reviewing footage on set, cutting scenes on borrowed time, and making tough creative calls with the clock ticking.
“These are the moments that teach us the most,” said Clements. “That’s how we grow—by making things, together.”
Joseph Giacomelli, an assistant professor of history who works at the intersection of history and climate science, echoed this in the Summer Research Scholars program. He guided students through a comparative study of weather modification in China and the U.S. and noted how their work reshaped his own insights.
“Students’ research gave me new insights into how environmental policy evolved in China,” said Giacomelli.
In the age of AI
Runkun Zhao, Class of 2026, recalled an unusual assignment in Ben Van Overmeire’s religious studies course: interviewing Confucius, Laozi and the Buddha—via ChatGPT.
“We analyzed whether the AI responses matched those figures’ philosophies,” Zhao recalled. “It was a creative way to engage critically with both technology and ancient thought.”
But the goal wasn’t just novelty—it was precision. Van Overmeire wanted students to test whether AI could embody ancient philosophy’s nuances.
“ChatGPT often sounds convincing,” he said, “but it’s vague, overly general, and ethically sanitized in ways the original thinkers were not.”
In one case, a student asked ChatGPT-as-Confucius about gender equality. The response? A modern take on equal rights. “But Confucius didn’t say that,” Van Overmeire said. “And that mismatch was the point.”
By catching those inconsistencies, students weren’t just flexing their knowledge—they were applying it, testing it against a tool many assume is all-knowing. “They realized they actually knew more about these figures than the AI did,” he said. “And that’s when knowledge becomes real—when you apply it.”
Another student used the assignment to navigate a personal dilemma involving disagreement with a superior. The AI offered direct advice. But the student, recalling “The Analects,” knew that Confucius would advocate for humility and respectful remonstration. “That was a beautiful moment,” Van Overmeire said. “He knew Confucius better than the machine.”
For Van Overmeire, the goal isn’t to ban AI—but to redefine how students engage with it. In other assignments, students collaborate with AI: they pose questions, analyze the answers, and then reflect on what the tool gets right—or misses.
He compares the rise of AI to the invention of writing. Before writing, knowledge and stories had to be memorized and passed down orally—think of Homer’s epics. Writing changed that, freeing up mental space for deeper thought.
“Plato feared writing would kill memory,” he said. “But it reshaped thinking. I see AI doing the same. It forces us to ask: What do we really want students to learn?”
As AI machines take over routine jobs, the question isn’t just what students know—but why. Why are they here? What do they want to contribute? In a world driven by algorithms, the arts and humanities teach us to ask better questions, interpret nuance, and embrace uncertainty.
“Machines can summarize facts, but they can’t tell us what it means to be human,” said Joseph Giacomelli. “That’s our job.”
While AI might read a book in seconds, it can’t replace the spark that comes from reading it yourself. “You miss the one sentence that changes how you see the world.”
