Dealing with ‘it’

What is “it”? It’s self-doubt and crippling stress; it’s the feeling of failure and rejection; it’s powering through Princeton without ever enjoying the process of learning. Maybe it’s preparation for “the real world.” Maybe it’s the way all colleges are, a post-adolescent malaise, or maybe it’s the essence of Princeton in particular.

“It” became clearer as I spoke with Shikha Uberoi, a 28-year-old sophomore who took 10 years off to play professional tennis. When Shikha started here in 2000, there was no Whitman, New Butler or grade deflation — nor did she find so many students going through difficult times. She comes back to this school now with a unique perspective on what Princeton is and what it could be. And, as an older but still approachable peer, Shikha serves as a kind of mentor or advisor to her younger classmates. She sees completely what the rest of us only see in pieces.

When I asked Shikha if there was any campus issue she felt needed to be addressed, she immediately knew she had something to say, though she wasn’t quite sure how to articulate it. After our conversation, I wasn’t sure either.

We spat out buzzwords: nerves, fear, ratios, dishonesty, self-doubt, loneliness, isolation. We discussed how students so often talk about wanting to leave campus or take a year off. “Ten years ago, it was weird to take time off,” Shikha said. “Now everybody wants to do it.” Rather than engaging with Princeton, so many of our peers want nothing to do with the place.

We posited that “it” begins at the top, with the administration’s focus on college rankings and the “value of a Princeton degree” and trickles down to student culture. Maybe it’s the nature of the students who the admission office accepts or the nature of the students who choose to enroll. We could not agree on the origin nor could we agree exactly on what “it” is. Perhaps we can define “it” as unhappiness, in the broadest sense. Many Princeton students go through periods of intense unhappiness and try, as much as possible, to keep these experiences private.

I recognize that there is no one solution — the University can’t form a task force on general unhappiness. Princeton does offer professional help through University Health Services, but these experiences of unhappiness are so common that students often choose to deal with them stoically and internally, as if they don’t matter. But they do matter, and there are ways to mitigate, at least slightly, these tough times.

In a 2009 lecture at his alma matter, professor Robert Coles discussed just that: how he made his time as a Harvard undergraduate “manageable.” He described the experience of flubbing a chemistry demonstration in front of an instructor who laughed cold-heartedly at his error. Coles was so upset that he discussed the incident with his personal mentor, Perry Miller, who then encouraged him to raise the issue with the head of the chemistry department. He reluctantly agreed and ultimately found the relevant authority figures to be sympathetic and kind. Though it seems juvenile to pursue recourse in this manner for what was really a small snub, Coles’ purpose in telling this story was to show that, after meeting and getting to know these authority figures, his college experience finally became personal. There was more to his school than the instructor who cared so little about his feelings. Harvard was not just an institution; it was a home as well.

Many of us would find Coles’ experience in 1950s Harvard to be wholly relevant to Princeton in 2011. This school can inspire similar timidity and lack of confidence in the face of professors and administrators who seem to tower above us. “How many times have my classmates thanked me for asking the stupid question?” Shikha said. This component is just one part of “it” — that looming darkness that captures so many of us throughout our undergraduate careers. But Coles gives us a place to start.

Princeton is more than the compilation of readings, precepts, tests and essays. College is not just about getting good grades and getting out. When and if “it” threatens to barge in, especially with reading period and finals on the way, remember the human side of this place. Reach out. There is no need to withdraw. Princeton is our school, but Princeton could be our home as well.

Brandon Davis is a sophomore from Westport, Conn. He can be reached at bsdavis@princeton.edu.