Follow us on Instagram
Try our daily mini crossword
Play our latest news quiz
Download our new app on iOS/Android!

Bottom of the pecking order

It pains me to think that just a few short months ago, I was at the top of the food chain. New kids were coming to me with questions, I entered any hallway to a chorus of raucous greetings, and nearly everyone wanted my help with their homework. Of course, this didn't happen overnight; it had taken four years, six really if you count middle school, to achieve this position, and I wasn't pleased that I would have to leave it to go off to college. And of course, there were all those people around me saying "Now, don't expect college to be like high school. You are going to be with people that are all just as smart and talented as you are, and it might be a little difficult to adjust." Basically, my ego was going to take a beating, and I needed to prepare. I thought I did a pretty good job of accepting that I would have to step down from my place at home, and start from scratch somewhere new. In fact, I was looking forward to it. Anything to escape the identity of "the smart girl" for a little while.

Well, now that I have been here for a little while, I have come to this conclusion: My ego was not beaten . . . it was MAIMED. Utter, complete and without a doubt deflation. I was beginning to wonder whether or not that breeze that has sent my shade flapping these past few weeks wasn't due to the wind being let out of our collective sails. I think we've all had at least one moment in these weeks of orientation and classes when we've wondered how it was that we got in here. I know I did when I walked into that first French class, and somehow it seemed that everyone there a) had lived in France, b) spoke French at home or c) was from a French-speaking country. Uh, je suis INTIMIDATED.

ADVERTISEMENT

Not only was my academic ego screaming for mercy, but I was becoming self-conscious as well. It seemed that everything I did was "freshman-y," like whipping out the campus map when I needed to go to the U-Store, or making the foolish mistake of referring to Wawa by its actual name. (For those of you who are offended by my callous disregard for the sacred nature of the "WA," I sincerely apologize, but I must defend myself by saying Princeton University is the ONLY place in the WORLD that uses this term, so give us frosh a break, eh? But I digress.) Being the new guy was something I hadn't had to deal with for six years, and I expected to be out of practice. I was hoping it wouldn't be quite so obvious, but we all know that nothing sticks out more than a frosh on the Street that first night, and no one can ignore the unraised fists and confused faces peppering a crowd when "Old Nassau" gets rolling.

Basically, I had to realize that I was no longer the smartest person in my class, nor was I going to be recognized and acknowledged as I was back home. That's a tough pill to swallow, but its necessary if I'm going to get the most out of this college experience everyone talks about. I didn't go to Princeton University to sail on through the next four years. If that were what I wanted, I wouldn't have bothered applying to the number one school in the country, and would have instead stayed at home, where I knew I was safe and comfortable. I think that this is basically true of all of us, and though it's a shock and our egos may sting, we mustn't give up yet. All is not lost. After all, we wouldn't be here if we were idiots. Last weekend, I was delighted to realize that I was not the only one intimidated in my French class, and even more tickled today when I understood everything my chemistry TA was saying. I felt the old stirrings of when my ego was strapping and bold, and felt that I just might be in the right place after all. After all, if you aren't intimidated by Princeton University, then either you haven't been paying attention or you belong somewhere better, and if that's the case, I think you are out of luck.

So fear not, freshman! We may be new now, but soon enough our fists will rise to the chords of "Old Nassau" and by golly, when we sing "Three cheers for Old Nassau" we'll mean it! Noelle Muro is from East Haven, CT. She can be reached at nmuro@princeton.edu.

ADVERTISEMENT
ADVERTISEMENT