How dare you call me a power tool

May I vent? I would just like to say for the record that I am not "a power tool." I do not appreciate being informed by a man with a skewed impression of the typical Princeton student that my "workaholic" habits are the product of my need to build a perfect resume. In fact, David Brooks of the Atlantic Monthly basically believes that "the super-accomplished" student here has no internal drive to learn. The overachieving Princeton student, in his opinion, just spits back numbers, facts and data to get the grades to get the "right" suit-and-tie-job, and oh yeah, has no opinion on "moral argument and character-building." I seriously beg to differ.

I am sure that many of you remember reading "The Lorax" by Dr. Seuss. "The Lorax" is about a creature that watches the commercial industry, brought in personally by a "goal-oriented" schmuck, take over his pristine home and destroy all that is natural around him in the name of money. The man with the one-track mind cannot be stopped until all the trees are destroyed and he is on to the next big corporate take-over. And, this is the first image that came to my mind — after the nausea passed — when I read Brooks' commentary on the future leaders of America.

I cannot speak for the trees in terms of forest preservation, as I am an English major. I guess according to Brooks' book, I have been "trained" to "speak for the trees" at the allegorical level as part of my traditional, pro-status quo, linear, non-active education. But, please allow me to speak for the people who Mr. Brooks overlooked, which is 99.9 percent of the Princeton population.

I would like to teach at the college level one day, so I guess that makes me one of the (many) students who came to this campus in, as Dean Hargadon called it, a "poetic frame of mind." If this all works out, I will get to spend the rest of my life in academia. However, wanting to be eminently successful in whatever field you choose, whether that be investment-banking (not a dirty word), curing the ill or producing great works of art, should not be slapped with a simplistic, negative label. This guy needs a new pair of glasses; he is suffering from severe myopia.

Brooks is right on one count; we do get caught up here in our own private, daily minutiae. But I would like to believe that this is not a community made up of "prudential" power tools. I have proof. I just got back from a spring break trip that had absolutely nothing to do with the normal worries and pressures of school. It had absolutely everything to do with having time to just be 20. That's right. No scheduled meetings to see friends, no nights spent studying in one's sleep. By the way, would the person who can do this please reveal her secret? This would certainly come in handy on those nights before exams when sleep just can't be denied. Are we talking osmosis here? Textbooks on your head as you hit the pillow, or what? Was this a set-up to trick the evil Atlantic Monthly man into believing we here at Princeton are all like that?

Something specific struck me this past week, besides the opportunity to just chat, unhindered by deadlines. I had several great conversations about books with my friends on a tropical beach. Yes, books. Extended networking for a summer job in publishing, you might ask? Are you kidding? This 'alien' form of conversation resulted from a common interest, one not externally enforced by the authority we refuse to question. And no, Mr. Brooks, my ever "career-conscious" mind had no ulterior motive. We "organization kids" engaged in this activity simply because we all love to read for pleasure. What? The future grownups of America actually like to read out of their own intellectual interest? And they're not all English majors reading for departmental classes? They are history and econ and WWS majors and (gasp) engineers?

Amongst us there are many types of students. And, contrary to popular belief, this bubble we call Princeton is not a Gap ad. We are not automatons or "perky conformists," though many amongst us have been known to take up swing dancing or wear clothes from J. Crew. Myself included.

Brooks makes the statement that "one finds not angry revolutionaries, despondent slackers, or dark cynics" here. He uses as an example our inability to revolt as a whole against the cancellation of the Nude Olympics. Prudential minds, huh? So, an automatic year's suspension from school is small potatoes? Thanks, but even this artsy-fartsy, once-a-student-always-a-student, Lorax-loving, "poetic" type will keep her pants on. Working out for a year in preparation to display the perfect bod is a bit overwhelming. We overachievers are known to be extreme in our work ethic.