The world is, fundamentally, a horrible place to live. From cancer and genocide to psoriasis and reality television, human existence is beset by a plenitude of evils — natural and artificial, great and small — from which the only escape is death. But I've just gotten back from a couple of hours sitting in the sun by the newly renovated fountain in Scudder Plaza, and somehow all is well.
Sure, it might be the magnolia blossoms scenting the air, or the soothing sound of falling water. But these features were present in the old, unrenovated plaza with its old, unrenovated fountain (allegedly an allegory of the successes and failures of Woodrow Wilson's presidency, albeit an allegory I have never been able to interpret successfully), and that plaza was never capable of providing me with existential peace. Credit must be given where credit is due, and the renovators of Scudder Plaza and its Wilson School Fountain (aka the Fountain of Freedom) deserve all the accolades for my current state of bliss, or at least those accolades which are not due directly to the season of spring itself. And their key innovation was the simple addition of steps leading down to the fountain's reflecting pool.
Previously, with a wall running around the Wilson School Fountain, the temptation to wade in met with considerable physical and social barriers. The message of the wall was clear — "Keep out!" — and disobedience was a rare, naughty joy, for most public policy students reserved exclusively to the moment after handing in their senior theses. The effects of this barrier, however, did much more than merely discourage wading. It established a spiritual distance between the plaza-denizen and the fountain, cordoning it off like a velvet rope in front of an exclusive club that you or I would never be cool enough to enter.
Now, the wall is gone, and so are the shoes of most of those around the fountain, whether they merely sit by the side with their reading or charge all the way in to the fountain itself. Meanwhile, those of us who refrain from so much as getting our feet wet are the beneficiaries of a delightful aquatic spectacle, as everyone from cute little babies to even cuter bikinied babes (and, for those with different tastes, buff boys) splash about before us. Some even bring along toy boats, sending them sailing off to the center of the pool to join the revelers therein, as their owners look on dryly from the sidelines.
With this change, Scudder Plaza has gone from an often-empty square of stone to a jam-packed public space. Now, on a nice day, it is difficult to find a seat on the bench under the magnolias. When a spot opens up, I find myself loath to give it up, and end up spending entire afternoons doing my reading in the sun, rather than in the dark recesses of Firestone Library or the Grad College.
While the renovation of the plaza was under way, I regularly resented the work, as I was forced to take the long way around to get to the Politics Department offices in Corwin Hall. The project seemed like a waste of Princeton's precious endowment, sucking up funds which could better be spent by handing them directly to grad students. The plaza was fine as it was, and all that closing it for a year seemed to accomplish was to force Wilson School seniors to set up wading pools next to Wallace for their ritual post-thesis splash. Even when the plaza was reopened, but before the pool was refilled, the changes to the space hardly seemed to justify the expense of renovation and the extended period of inconvenience that accompanied it.
Now I see what a fool I was. The fall of the wall around the Fountain of Freedom can rightly be compared to the fall of a similar wall in Berlin nearly over a decade earlier. While the events of 1989 may have led to a new, undivided Europe, the analogous events of 2002-3 have led to a new me — one that is happier and more productive, not to mention noticeably tanner.
Unlike the presidency that it is supposedly meant to symbolize, the renovated Wilson School Fountain is an unmitigated triumph.
Mike Frazer is a graduate student in the politics department. He is from the Bronx, N.Y.
Read More
Keep academic authority in human hands
Lily Halbert-AlexanderThe Trump administration’s attacks on research and higher education as well as a blind reliance on AI chatbots are reflective of a societal backslide: a commodification of knowledge that prioritizes “efficiency” over the messy process of getting to an answer, where nuances are flattened and the truth is fungible.
The Trump administration’s attacks on research and higher education as well as a blind reliance on AI chatbots are reflective of a societal backslide: a commodification of knowledge that prioritizes “efficiency” over the messy process of getting to an answer, where nuances are flattened and the truth is fungible.
What do we owe society for a Princeton education?
Jia Cheng ShenThe social and moral responsibility that comes with receiving a degree subsidized by both private generosity and public trust is significant.
The social and moral responsibility that comes with receiving a degree subsidized by both private generosity and public trust is significant.
Notes from a so-called enemy’s classroom
Jennifer JenningsIt wasn’t revolutionary. It was homework. But it was homework that asked: how do we build schools that work for all kids? Inclusion, after all, is the “I” in DEI. That’s what we’re thinking about together. And caring about each other’s experiences and opportunities, it turns out, isn’t something you can outlaw.
It wasn’t revolutionary. It was homework. But it was homework that asked: how do we build schools that work for all kids? Inclusion, after all, is the “I” in DEI. That’s what we’re thinking about together. And caring about each other’s experiences and opportunities, it turns out, isn’t something you can outlaw.