Princeton's richness only deepens with time

Coming back to Princeton as Dean of the Woodrow Wilson School was a jolt in many ways. It is quite different to be teaching and working in an environment where you were an undergraduate than where you were a graduate student (I was a law student at Harvard and spent many years teaching there). Your undergraduate years are years of discovery, of maturation, of learning through experience and sometimes embarrassment. So turning the corner and seeing a particular dorm, classroom or the former site of the student center in Pyne can bring back surprising memories. During my first months here, I often picked up my cell phone and called my Princeton roommate, who is still my best friend and now lives in New York, to share a particular memory with her.

What is most strikingly different about Princeton today as compared with the late 1970s is the vastly increased diversity of the student body, both in terms of minority representation among U.S. citizens and the increased number of students from other countries. The most tangible and wonderful representation of this difference occurred for me two years ago, when my sons and I marched with my father's class of 1953 at the head of the P-rade at his 50th reunion. We began in front of Nassau Hall and walked through the ranks of all white and white-haired men for a good while. Then we turned a corner somewhere near Whig-Clio and began to see a sprinkling of women on the sidelines. Rounding another turn, now walking toward Edwards, we passed the magic divide between the wrinkling, harried and increasingly out-of-shape alums who have had children and the still sleek, chic and together younger alums who are enjoying a double income and no kids! But the most important change was the difference in the visible physical diversity of the class as we walked toward the graduating class of 2003 — a rainbow of young men and women of different races, ethnic backgrounds, countries and creeds. It was a journey through time in the space of 10 minutes — a journey to be proud of as an institution.

These differences are also visible and audible in the classroom. Having taught Woodrow Wilson graduate students, undergraduate majors and this past fall, a freshman seminar, I can report that classroom debate is richer and more informed by diverse perspectives than I remember. In particular, the range of students who either come from other countries or who have spent significant time living and working in other countries while here at Princeton is pronounced (although inevitably, given my field, the students who choose to take my classes are likely to be more international than most). To talk about international human rights and have students draw on their experiences working with women in South Africa or war victims in Afghanistan contributes both to my teaching and to our collective learning. We will be a better place still, when, as Shirley Tilghman imagines, all Princeton students have some direct experience of the wider world not only beyond FitzRandolph Gate, but far beyond U.S. borders.

That said, what has remained mostly the same about the Princeton I remember, and what must always remain, is the physical beauty of the place we are privileged to live, work and walk in. I have always maintained that part of the extraordinary loyalty of Princeton alumni is traceable to our collective memories of the light falling just so through an archway, the magnolias in blossom along Scudder Plaza, the bursts of color in Prospect Garden, the shadows of the early morning on Lake Carnegie and the snow falling just about anywhere. Beauty is a gift, one that opens the mind and the soul. The beauty of Princeton is a gift that endures, and that encourages all of us to give back. Anne-Marie Slaughter '80 is the Dean of the Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International Affairs. She can be reached at slaughtr@princeton.edu.