Monolithic diversity

Last spring, the University hosted a conference entitled "Breaking Apart the Monolith: The Many Ways of Being a Muslim." Brought to Princeton by the American Moroccan Institute, this conference seemed to me to be exactly what Princeton needs — an academic forum which matches faces to the elusive "Muslim" logos lurking behind newspaper headlines and government documents.

When I went to the opening reception at Palmer House, the Muslim Princetonians at the reception were Somalian, Kenyan, Turkish, Iranian, Moroccan and Egyptian. There were no duplicates, no majorities. Some were international, some were American. Hardly anything could have been less "monolithic."

But even as a self-satisfied smile crept to my face, I realized that this more complex portrait of Islam still proved nothing. How many of these Muslims willingly identified themselves as Muslim? How many even considered Islam to be a central part of their identity? More importantly, how many Princetonians were aware of the discovery of diversity that I had just made?

Few would argue, I believe, that Princeton has a problem with diversity. Diversity is a tricky concept — it is a term called upon in order to embrace differences in culture, religion and race, but intrinsic to diversity is the idea of delineating groups of people. When we emphasize diversity, we box others into manageable schemas: He's an Orthodox Jew, he's a Bengali Hindu, she's a Spanish Catholic.

And at Princeton, those lines which signify "diversity" are touted by the administration as a source of pride, a pride which trickles down to the wide-eyed incoming freshmen. I distinctly remember a call I made to my parents during freshman year boasting about the Bulgarian-Canadian-Latino-Grenadian New Yorker I had befriended soon after our diversity-themed opening exercises.

But the more time I spent at Princeton, the more I realized that "diversity" at Princeton looked better on paper and sounded better on the phone than it actually was. Cultural differences, instead of being stimulating or even divisive, get pushed to the sidelines. Don't we Princetonians generally talk the same way? Don't we all dress relatively similarly? Don't we all party at the same mansions on weekends? How many times have you had a conversation about the "typical" Princetonian, clad in argyle sweaters and creased khakis, toting a corduroy messenger bag?

As Princeton students, we seem to be allowing our identities to languish amid the piles of research papers and problem sets we trudge through daily. Take a look at our cultural groups: Akwaaba, Salaam, the Princeton Caribbean Connection, the Hong Kong Students Association ... Sure, we may hear rumblings from these groups every now and then, but take a trip to another college campus and you will find no end of cultural showcases to enlighten the masses.

Several responses may be made here. Perhaps we are simply more academic, working hard in class now so we won't have to later. Or maybe we really are diverse, but our intelligence is what brings us together. And maybe it isn't so bad that our styles and personality types are similar; maybe there is something about being a Princetonian that creates its own traditional culture that we will cherish forever. These are valid answers, but that does not mean they should go unchallenged.

If we are being trained to be the leaders of our countries, we should spend less time at the Street or in the library, and more time getting to know each other. And I don't mean that in the love-thy-neighbor sort of way, but in the real-life educational way. It's a task that can't be described in only one column, but rather something to be discussed on campus, among students and administrators. Starting the process is the most important step.

I would like to sign off in a creative way, intertwining some aspect of the "Breaking the Monolith" conference from last year, but I didn't get to go to anything more than the reception.

I didn't have time. Sarah Dajani is a sophomore from Seminole, Fla. She may be reached at sdajani@princeton.edu.