1000 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
As a glaring disclaimer, I did not write a thesis. As a BSE COS major, I opted to complete my independent research requirement during my junior year. However, I believe that my unusual identity as a thesis-less senior allows me to observe thesis season with an objective lens. First, let me say that I support the thesis as a quintessential part of the Princeton experience. For many, it is the first taste of serious research and an effective bridge to graduate level work. But after witnessing the full spectrum of attitudes and approaches to the senior thesis, I emerged with the firm conviction that the institution could be massively improved with one simple change. Specifically, there should be a single deadline across all departments.
The old motto “actions speak louder than words” has always contained a grave misunderstanding: it assumes that words and actions are fundamentally different modes of communication. This assumption, I shall argue, is ill-founded. One result of abandoning such a clear-cut distinction between speech and action is, as we shall see, a harmony between the modern culture of political correctness and our First Amendment rights.
“Ya se agotó,” I said, incredulous (I shouldn’t have been; it’s a weekly occurrence). It’s already run out. The marker I was dragging across the whiteboard was leaving the dingy surface whiter than it had been before I tried to explain the difference between “food” and “foot.” And we were only twenty minutes into the lesson. I ran upstairs, interrupted the Level 1 class, grabbed a handful of markers from the bottom of our bag. They were all bright colors — pink, green, orange — that I knew no one sitting more than two seats from the front of the class would be able to see.
On May 12, 2017, The Daily Princetonian broke a story on a Mexican-themed party that took place on campus the night before. Racially insensitive events are so common on this campus that they have come to be expected. In the past year alone, we’ve already had one particularly flagrant example, the 27th annual Mandatory Makeout Mexican Mustache Monday Madness Fiesta in September. Then, as we saw more recently this May, one Mexican party was not enough for the year.
Over the last 3 years, there has been a surprising new trend across student groups: back-to-back women leaders of student groups including the Undergraduate Student Government (USG), Whig-Clio, Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Princetonian, and Business Today.
What do you want to do with your life?
When I graduated from high school, every member of our class received a book called “The Noticer.” I didn’t read the book, but Amazon says that the story revolves around a mysterious man named Jones who has been given a gift of noticing things that others miss. There’s nothing in particular about the story that prompted me to write this letter. But I always remembered the title, because I wanted to be able to describe myself as a “noticer” like Jones.
Uri Schwartz ’20, a Mexican-American student, recently wrote an opinion piece condemning the responses from Princeton Latinos y Amigos and the Princeton University Latinx Perspectives Organization on the recent Cinco de Mayo-themed party. In it, Schwartz calls PLA’s and PULPO’s responses to the party “excessive, unnecessarily harsh toward the University, and, in some respects, unsubstantiated.”
Nearly forty years ago, anthropology was forced to reckon with its colonial past and present in a period of upheaval that nearly ended the discipline as we know it. Concerns ranged from the role of anthropologists in imperial expeditions and colonial governing efforts, to the intellectual conclusions that talked of “primitive” peoples and human development. With the goal of reimagining the discipline beyond its colonial origins, decolonizing anthropology sought to undo the complex legacies of colonialism. What it precisely means to decolonize remains a hotly debated topic, even as it is an unfolding process that has taken multiple pathways, from active efforts to include the voices of people historically underrepresented in the discipline, to anthropologists calling on academia as a whole to be more actively engaged in addressing the larger political forces that prop up the elite institutions where many of us work and study.
As a Mexican citizen, I felt my skin crawl when I saw the headline “BREAKING: Racist Princeton Students Host Mexican-themed Party” posted by the Princeton University Latinx Perspectives Organization (PULPO). Almost immediately, my phone buzzed with emails from Princeton Latinos y Amigos (PLA), one of which stated that PLA “stands in solidarity” with the Mexican community on campus and that they are “here to support” me and my community during these times.
This is the fourth column in a series about alcohol and the college experience.
To my conservative friends,
As of writing this, two weeks from now I’ll be sitting on a beach somewhere. Three weeks from now, I’ll be enjoying my last Reunions as a student. And four weeks from now, I’ll probably be at home, waking up and wondering if this was all a dream.
On February 2, Timothy Piazza — a sophomore at Pennsylvania State University — went to "pledge night" for the fraternity Beta Theta Pi. Throughout the night, fraternity brothers encouraged him to drink beer and vodka far past the safe limit for alcohol consumption. After he fell down a flight of stairs and hit his head on a metal handrail, the brothers laid Piazza on a couch. The fraternity did not call the ambulance until the next morning. Piazza died on February 4.
In an article on April 24, I declared that Princeton University holds onto a series of pedagogically outdated systems that are disgustingly ill-adapted to the demands of educating the students it purports to support. I critically analyzed the lecture, and strongly suggested it be eradicated. However, Princeton cannot exist as an actual school without schooling. As I noted, removing the lecture would make it even more glaringly obvious that a Princeton education is, first and foremost, a self-fulfilling, tax-exempt hedge fund. Something must fill the hole where the lecture used to be, and for that, we can turn to part of our Wilsonian heritage: the precept.
The dream, it has been said, is to find a partner of equivalent intellectual merit and productive potential as ourselves; to get married amid the towering buttresses of the University chapel, lit softly by the glow from the stained-glass windows; and to spend the rest of our days happily pursuing our interests and our goals, all the while extolling the virtues of our alma mater and contributing to its endowment in preparation for future generations, including, God willing, our own children.
Editor's Note: This column discusses issues and events that might be traumatizing, or triggering, for some, namely suicide. The author was granted anonymity due to the intensely personal nature of the events described.
My grandfather was born and raised in rural Jamaica in the late 1920s. His mother died as an infant, and his father died when he was 13, leaving him, the oldest male in the family, to take care of his stepmother and his siblings. Although he had already been working in the cane fields as a boy, he now had to work extreme hours, often sleeping in a hammock connected to trees. Because of this, he never attended school and therefore never learned to read, much to his detriment. Later, he and a friend entered into a business partnership and he was cheated out of everything because he did not understand the terms of the contract.