Seniors spring is a time to take advantage of Princeton's perks

Wide-eyed, we arrived as fresh-faced teenagers (except for the hockey team). Wowed by the gothic architecture of the catalogs, subdued by the bland escape of the lower campus, we — former high-schoolers — had finally come into our own. The Street back then was a prison that each of us wanted to eagerly break into, whether it was through the back door, a window or another third mysterious way. And while there were many differences among us — as Fred Hargaddon hammered home to us in Richardson Auditorium — there was one constant: the seniors stood tall.

Four years later, and a new president's term wiser, we have realized our freshman wishes and become the seniors we so wished to be. As fast as change comes it goes, and while many of us have become accustomed to our kingly, or queenly, third-floor Bicker status, alas, our place upon the throne of this kingdom will be short-lived. And so as we begin a February, one that gives us one more day to be Princeton students and fourth-year demagogues, we must prepare for our fading glory, acknowledging the increasingly familiar looks of "Oh, you're still here."

When September rolled around in 2003, the multi-colored leaves embodied our range of emotions: the women of our senior class, confused as to who to date as no older class remained, and the men in excited anticipation of a chance to dupe an underclassman to dinner and 'dessert', with tales drawn from their vast experiences as venerated members of the Princeton family.

When SCORE opened its doors, it was us who triumphantly entered first. We were showered with performances such as that by the cast of "Whose Line Is It Anyway" and the stylish DJ Dunne. We were able to enjoy the soap opera that was the USG elections as observers rather than participants, and witness the absurdity of a Remix of a Remix. We were like the tigers in front of Nassau Hall, rising majestically above the ground below us.

And then — just like that — Eli Goldsmith sent us an email that was actually substantive and lacking any closing sarcastic remarks, reminding us to have our heads measured, as if we were willing to prepare for own execution. As soon as the sun had risen, it was ready to set on our Princeton years.

We are quickly becoming redundant. There are those students who will point out that we are simply entering another phase, starting anew — embarking on a journey to the wondrous and unexplored. Yet, far too often, students are in shock with their newfound post-Princeton status. Guys attempt without abandon or restraint to flash their Princeton 'bling-bling' rings, blinding countless girls in the process and wondering if the H-bomb would be more effective. Others remain without food, waiting for the server to walk through their kitchen door.

The perks are nearing their end. While today we hear the likes of German Foreign Minister Joschka Fischer and Afghan President Hamid Karzai as their target audience, soon we will resemble the pesky, quixotic, but quaint community people, who peddle outside lecture halls waiting for their 'fix' of intellectual stimulation.

While we descend from the top of the pecking order to the bottom, we must cherish those few moments we have left. Whether it is for that student in Firestone to finally go to TI or that student in TI to finally go to Firestone, we must explore what we have yet to explore as our time is passing us by. It is time to meet that awkward-looking graduate student in your department who you know most for not taking a shower and discover he or she is writing a fascinating, prizewinning dissertation.

When again will we be enticed by those overpriced slices of pizza from Frist? When in the future will we be able to make that long dangerous trek to a now clean Hoagie Haven? In seriousness, however, it is with this desire to treasure the time I have left that I enter the final lap of what is the Princeton experience. The great opportunities that are afforded to us by this great institution are endless.

So as we go through these last few months before we fade into anonymity, hopefully we will leave content knowing that we have experienced all that we could. And, while we may start anew this summer, we know that 25 years from now it will be the Princetonians from our class who will be our school's and society's flagship leaders, and this country's unsuccessful presidential candidates. Taufiq Rahim is a Wilson School major from Vancouver, B.C. He can be reached at trahim@princeton.edu.