One of the things I love about Princeton is that everyone lives on campus. It's pretty sweet that, as undergrads, we are guaranteed housing for four years and never have to worry about finding our own apartments. Also, it's pretty nice knowing that even though you cannot room with all of your buddies, everyone lives just a short walk away.
Sure, this tight-knit campus contributes to our wonderful school spirit that causes us to worship orange and black even when ghosts and candy are nowhere to be found. But upon further analysis, this seemingly united campus is split into the "good stuff" and the "bad stuff." (Not to pull a George W. Bush — you know, the whole "we're the good guys, they're the bad guys" deal.)
The distinction I draw between the "good stuff" and the "bad stuff" is rather simple and, admittedly, subject to criticism. Draw an imaginary loop, running around Patton, around Walker, across and around 1903 and Cuyler, around Brown and Dod, past Witherspoon, around all of Rocky and Mathey, back behind Lockhart, all the way through the slums, and then connect. Now for the bad stuff, the stuff outside of the loop: Butler, the bulk of Wilson, Butler, Forbes, Bloomberg, Butler, Scully, Butler. Hmm, it's funny how so much of the bad stuff starts with B.
So, you may ask, on what criteria have I based this scientifically drawn loop?
The criteria are few and they are simple. To gain admission to this prestigious loop, a building must look like "Princeton." It must be brochure-worthy. It must be suitable to show on tours to the lovely folk who visit our campus.
These criteria seem superficial and vain at first glance. You may be thinking, "Ooohh, he just wants to live in a pretty building!" But as a former Butler resident who now lives in Little Hall, I assure you the change is significant. Without question, I take pride in having lived in Butler. However, I believe that waffle holes should contain syrup, not my head after I wake up in the morning on my top bunk and slam it into a Lourie-Love ceiling.
Undoubtedly, dorm quality distinguishes certain buildings on campus from others — everyone knows Saddam's prison cell is more luxurious than a Butler double. So what else is superior about living in a Princetonesque, aesthetically pleasing building? Well, for one, there is much more excitement (bearing in mind that excitement on the Princeton campus can constitute a drunk Charter member on a Friday night). Indeed, within "the loop" there are many more people walking around and, when weather permits, many more school-sponsored activities. Princeton would sooner accept a transfer student (gasp!) than hold a Ben Folds concert in the Butler courtyard.
As an upperclassman, one has a number of viable living options. You can choose a scene of privacy in the Ellipse or choose to live with the drunkards on the third floor of Brown. Moreover, should you become an officer in an eating club, you may be given the option to live at the club. Aside from the fact that you would actually have to deal with Cottage members all day, who wouldn't want to live in a building as beautiful as Cottage?
I think that we all should live "in the loop" at least once during our four years here. Rocky and Mathey kids, go live in Scully and give everyone else a chance to get some Gothic love. My fireplace has the names of previous residents dating back into the 1930's carved into the wood. I live close to Firestone, close to Marquand, close to Dillon and close to Nassau Street, and I am surrounded by beautiful buildings. When I come back to my building each day, I feel like I am walking into a palace ... and I feel like I go to Princeton. Neel Gehani is an ORFE major from Summit, N.J. He can be reached at ngehani@princeton.edu.
