Walking across campus can be a sobering experience. Acquaintances ask, "How are you?" and walk away before listening to the answer. Though the reply may not be true, the habitual answer is "Good, thanks," shrugging off the chance to share anything more genuine.
Such exchanges shroud unspoken sentiments that undergraduates have — and more so, reflect a failure to openly discuss emotional distress on campus. The issue of unhappiness, in its broadest sense, is not confined to formal diagnoses of mental disorders but also extends into students' daily lives.
According to the August 2001 National College Health Assessment Survey, nearly 60 percent of University students said they felt that "things were hopeless" at least once during the year. About half of the student body felt so depressed that it was difficult to function one or more times during the year.
These numbers evince that unhappiness, though rarely exposed in the open, is a serious problem on campus.
Princeton is a destination for over-achievers who share, if nothing else, the background of being at the top of their class. But the emotional and psychological baggage that students bring to the University affects their way of learning and, ultimately, their way of living.
Princeton students generally feel confident in their academic abilities. However, staff psychologist Bob Schiraldi notes that a student whose identity was largely based on his academic prowess in high school may suffer at the University.
Tom Harrits '05 faced a turbulent, yet unfortunately common, first semester at the University.
"A feeling of inadequacy developed," he said. "You suddenly aren't the best anymore, and that shakes your entire perception of yourself."
Many students face a constant battle — defining oneself in the University community. The task is difficult for those whose characters have been almost solely built upon accomplishments.
The University also tests how important "being the best" is, and what that phrase should eventually mean.
"The freshmen coming in are kids who have been the best," said Robert Accordino '03, a residential advisor in Rockefeller College, "and have probably always gotten what they've wanted. These students are not ready for failure.
"Many Princeton activities are based on selectivity . . . and inevitably lead to failure for many freshmen," he added. "In the first few weeks of classes, students audition for a cappella groups, try out for sports teams and audition for shows. Inevitably, many freshmen will be disappointed."
Insecurities on the academic front last longer.
"Even though I like the work I'm doing, when I compare myself to everyone else, I'm not brilliant like they are," Harrits said.
What Harrits explains is the psychological game of "Me versus Them" — an idea that compels students to believe their academic struggles are unique. Despite what most students perceive, though, they are not alone.
Surrounded by constantly working classmates, Harrits said he feels guilty about taking a break because someone else might have continued working.
Though Princeton, in comparison with other institutions, does not breed an openly competitive atmosphere, Harrits conceded, "Nobody wants to talk about this [academic struggling] because if you show any weakness, you show that you're not cut for Princeton."
Being alone at Princeton
Rachel* often asks herself, "Is it Princeton, or is it me?"
The question arises every time she is faced with eating in the dining hall alone, or when she wears her vintage skirts that contrast with the conventional sundresses. After nearly two semesters of feeling out of place, Rachel has become somewhat numb to the isolation.
"Whenever I leave to be with my friends from home and then come back, that's the worst," she said. "That's when I realize how bad things are here."
Rachel's search compatible friends is a dilemma with which many students can empathize. Finding people to identify with can be challenging at the University, especially when most students seem to fit, as Rachel likes to call it, "the Princeton mold."
Though 26 percent of Princeton's enrolled student population hails from minority backgrounds, the overwhelming majority is Caucasian. The largest number of enrolled students comes from New Jersey, New York, Pennsylvania, Maryland and Massachusetts.
Born and bred in the Northeast. White. Wealthy. Though a generalization, these characteristics shape the Princeton mold. However, the idea of a homogenous student body socially isolates those who do not embrace the Princeton stereotype.
"My friends in high school — we were all spontaneous — really living every moment. I'm adventurous, but in a way different from Princeton kids," Rachel said. "Do people like me exist here? I think that they do, but I'm just afraid that by the time I find them, they'll have it beaten out of them."
Rachel also alludes to overwhelming social pressures, such as student drinking habits.
Students are not used to putting effort into making friends, Schiraldi said.
"Many are finding themselves comfortable in relating only once they've had a few drinks," Schiraldi added.
The drinking games further divide Rachel from the rest of students.
Immersed in the campus culture
Elliot* once had what he calls a fear of Princeton.
"If I woke up at 10 a.m. when I had meant to wake up at 9 a.m., I was terrified that I had lost an hour of work," he said.
The neurotic behavior that engulfed Elliot's freshman year characterizes the frantic lives that many Princeton students lead. Elliot immersed himself in work to ward off the fear of failing, though he was receiving top grades in his classes.
In retrospect, Elliot recognizes that he inflicted the pressure on himself. And the ramifications of his actions proved considerable: physical illness, social isolation, clinical depression and a loss of perception of priorities.
For many in Elliot's situation, alcohol has become a source of escape.
Director of Counseling Services Marvin Geller observes an overarching stress from which students feel the need to evade.
"This is a group of success-oriented, cultured students. They are highly competitive with fierce, internal drives," Geller said. But how students qualify success and the means to achieve it are questions that need to be answered.
Princeton students typically define success in terms of concrete measurements: financial wealth, social status and professional reputation.
Yet attaining success may be at the expense of one's own emotional and spiritual happiness. From high school to college, professional schools to companies, banks and hospitals — an endless path from one pressured environment to the next charts the lives many students choose. The more successful they are at each stop, the sooner they feel their ultimate goal may be achieved.
"Everyone has different goals, but they're all set for the future: to grow up and save the world or to grow up and get a lot of money," Rachel said. "People want to do well now to do things later, but I want to do things now."
Students divide their time into academics, activities and socialization. Even the latter has evolved into another time commitment to fulfill twice a week at the 'Street.'
"People here compartmentalize their lives," Jeffrey Kitrosser '03 said.
One out of five undergraduates seek help at the counseling center, Geller said. Though these statistics fail to include all the students who need emotional support, they may reflect a frailty in friendships at the University.
"I never get the sense the people I run into devote their time to each other . . . because that time might interfere with their lives," Kitrosser said. "They put a time limit on friends."
Indeed, many students have said they do not want to bother friends who are often too busy with work.
When friendship takes a backseat to academics and the pursuit of success, relationships are put under strain, and the results may be disastrous.
"Many students tend to depend on one primary relationship, and neglect developing others," Schiraldi said. "So when that one relationship falls apart, you believe that 'my world is going to end.' "
An obsession with success, a continual impetus to work and a neglect to foster interpersonal relationships pervade the University.
"It's hard to recognize just how young and foolish we are," Kitrosser said. "We're creating a real world here — but we're just kids. We're not supposed to have as much pressure as we do."
(*Name has been changed to protect the privacy of the person in question.)
Read More
David Zielenziger ’74, former ‘Prince’ chairman and lifelong journalist, passes away at 72
Kian PetlinFriends and colleagues remember former ‘Prince’ chairman David Zielenziger ’74, who passed away peacefully on May 20.
Friends and colleagues remember former ‘Prince’ chairman David Zielenziger ’74 who passed away peacefully on May 20.
Remembering Dorothea von Moltke, Labyrinth co-founder and local community builder
Lucia BrownDorothea von Moltke, widely considered the heart of Labyrinth Books, was remembered by friends and loved ones for her passions for language, literature, and local activism.
Dorothea von Moltke, widely considered the heart of Labyrinth Books, was remembered by friends and loved ones for her passions for language, literature, and local activism.
Cloister Inn to pause operations for the next 2–3 years, citing “hefty renovations”
Justus WilhoitCloister Inn, one of Princeton’s eating clubs, will pause operations for the next two to three years, due to “hefty renovations” to the club’s house.
Cloister Inn, one of Princeton’s eating clubs, will pause operations for the next two to three years, due to “hefty renovations” to the club’s house.