1000 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
Ah, New York City. The city of lights, the city that never sleeps, the city of… homelessness. This past summer, I returned to work in NYC, and again I was reminded of the struggles of so many homeless on a daily basis. It's next to impossible to avoid seeing homelessness if you live in the city. Shockingly, despite New York's population rising only about 6 percent since 2000, the number of homeless people in shelters has nearly tripled to the highest rate since the Great Depression. Walking down the street, I find it hard to avoid a profound sense of guilt for enjoying such a lavish lifestyle while so many suffer around me. I often reflect on how lucky I am to have such a strong upbringing with capable parents and a bright future through Princeton. Perhaps these people could change the world, if only people like you or me could give them a leg to stand on.
On the 12th of September, Princeton opened for the academic year. A huge barrage of loaded Dinky trains, excited hugs, orange carts and the sudden reminder of the doors that are magically open to you with the card with Princeton written on it soon followed. No, I am not talking about your future business card, but our beloved Prox, which grants us access to our food, clothing and shelter on campus.
By Zach Horton
By now, Lawnparties are over, and only a sea of dust from Quadrangle Club and a few stray plastic cups remain as physical evidence of the crush of people who filled Prospect Avenue over the past day. If we didn’t already know what Lawnparties entails, we’ve learned it by now. Officially, we’ve spent the afternoon celebrating the beginning of school with excellent musicians and great friends, partying in a last-ditch attempt to resuscitate summer and stave off our coursework for one more day. Unofficially, of course, many of us will have used the event as a chance to get totally sloshed before noon, stumbling around Cannon Club’s lawn with a cup of beer in each hand or begging Terrans for one of their bottles of Andre.
The real danger of Trump isn’t that he might win, it’s that — at least for now — he doesn’t have to.
Last Thursday, about 1,000 freshmen returned from Outdoor Action and Community Action and began to settle into their dorms, joining those who chose not to do a pre-orientation program. For freshmen, their mandatory University meal plans were effective immediately, ensuring they would have access to meals for the ensuing days of hectic orientation programming. Non-freshmen, however, have experienced firsthand key flaws and disparities in the meal plan system that the Editorial Board believes the University must address. Currently, non-freshman residential college meal plans begin on the Monday before classes start, three days after freshmen meal plans, creating a host of problems for many groups of students. This Board believes that the University should move back the start of general meal plans from Monday to Saturday, benefiting both students who would prefer to move into their dorms during the weekend and their families. Additionally, we propose similar reforms to benefit OA and CA leaders, as well as early arrival groups such as performing arts groups, the Honor Committee, student government, college councils and others.
Princeton is unique among the Ivies for its current policy banning transferring. This policy has received significant attention: In 2013 the Editorial Board wrote on the benefits of accepting transfer students, and in 2014 The Daily Princetonian reported that the University under President Eisgruber is considering overturning the policy.
I’m juggling, as we all are, the many different decisions one makes at the beginning of the school year. For those of us who are seniors, it feels even bigger: what to do with our last precious semesters here. The process is complex to say the least. However, the University makes it even harder with mandatory distribution requirements.
Before I left for my semester abroad at the University of Sussex last spring, an older friend who had also spent her junior spring in England gave me advice which would ring truer than she could possibly have expected. “You can’t expect every day to be the greatest adventure of your life,” she said. “In fact, sometimes it’s going to suck — and that’s okay. That’s normal. That’s life.”
I was one of the few Asian-Americans in the small suburb of Detroit that I grew up in. I still remember multiple instances in which other little boys would walk up to me and ask, “Your eyes are so small, are you blind or something?” They might as well have been hurling a slur at me – “chink.”
On a hot spring day 15 months ago, I sat outside St. Paul’s School, my high school, watching the class below me graduate. The final and most prestigious award, the Rector’s Award, is presented every year to the senior who “through selfless devotion to School activities, has enhanced our lives and improved the community.” The recipient that day was a student named Owen Labrie.
With the start of a new school year, everyone is eager to impart his or her advice on how to face the future. In doing so, they largely forget about their pasts. While I wouldn’t dare suggest I have any better advice, I think people often forget to look back and think about how they want to maintain past relationships moving forward. I’ve done a lot of reaching back as I’ve grown, and I think it’s perhaps something we all, incoming freshmen and returning students alike, could do a bit more conscientiously.
Note: This column is not intended as a slur to Madison Holleran, her family, friends and anyone who continues to grieve for her. I was as numbed by her story as anyone else who read it. Any life that is lost to suicide is one worth mourning for, which is ultimately the point I am trying to make, and I hope I have been able to communicate that point with clarity, honesty and respect. I sincerely apologize and accept fault if I have not.
I complain about Princeton. A lot. Only a week into summer, I still feel like I am mentally recovering from a caffeine-fueled, stress-and-anxiety-filled daze from finals. With multiple exams, problem sets and papers, it becomes easy to lose sight of the bigger picture. In the long run, the difference between an A- and a B+ is extremely insignificant, but in the moment, it can seem overwhelmingly important. These smaller issues (or “first world problems” as some of my friends would jokingly say) snowball, building up to the point that it sometimes feels overwhelming.
On Fridayafternoon, an Alumni-Faculty Forum titled “Science Under Attack!” convened with a panel of five graduates to discuss the national mood regarding science and science literacy in the country today.
When I introduced the 139th Managing Board of The Daily Princetonian in my first Letter from the Editor in February, I wrote that the new group of editors planned to work constructively with the Princeton community throughout our year at the helm of the paper.
Editor’s note: The author of this column was granted anonymity due to the intensely personal nature of the events described previously.
In a previous opinion piece, a group of seniors shared how service and community engagement have been integral to our Princeton experiences. We defined meaningful service as building compassionate relationships with those around us. Deeply engaging with the world and our own communities — both through academics and extracurriculars — was immensely beneficial to our growth as individuals, and we are grateful for these defining experiences.
At the final Senior Pub Night, it became painfully clear that I do not know a large portion of the senior class and this seemed to be the consensus among many people I spoke with that night. Despite sharing four years on the same 500 acres — the same study spaces and dining spaces and workout spaces and social spaces — the senior class, as a whole, remains largely unfamiliar. The subset of the senior class that pushed their way towards the free beer and quickly disappearing French fries was full of — for lack of a better word — strangers.
As graduating seniors, we have been repeatedly told the University’s unofficial motto over four years: “In the Nation’s Service and in the Service of All Nations.” Before we walk through the FitzRandolph Gate, we wanted to reflect on why service is such a valuable part of a University education. This column aims to highlight the importance of civic engagement in the lives of participating students.