Finding focus in Neverland

During midterms and finals weeks, while most students are trying to get in on the annual fight for study space on the C-floor, I head to a lesser-known part of Firestone: the two-story bonsai tree in the Cotsen Children’s Library.

Do I feel like I lose any claim to adulthood once I step through the doors of a library full of ... well ... kids? Admittedly, I do feel like I’m about 10 years old again every time I crawl into the hole in the tree, but then I pull out my textbooks and laptop and am immediately reminded that, sure enough, I’m still a sleep-deprived college student.

Studying in the aforementioned tree includes the company of some comfy pillows and various inscriptions on the wall, including “Tub for sale — slightly leaky — contact the candlestick maker,” and “Tom S. loves Becky T.” crossed out and replaced with “No he don’t,” and “lost boyz rule” — writings that prompt a few questions. What is Tom Sawyer doing making out with Becky Thatcher if they’re only like, 11 years old? Aren’t the “lost boyz” supposed to be illiterate, which is why they kidnap Wendy in the first place and make her tell them bedtime stories, an entirely questionable situation altogether? So what are they doing making inscriptions in trees? And who the hell is the candlestick maker, and why does he have a tub?

You might think that a place full of toys and picture books would have lots of noisy brats running around, making it impossible to study. But for a children’s library, Cotsen is surprisingly lacking in kids. Whenever I’ve been there, the maximum number of children has totalled ... two. The tree in the library is probably one of the best-kept secrets in Princeton, because the library is basically empty, despite it being open to people of all ages. Even I hadn’t heard of it until a friend secretively clued me in to its existence, as if she was telling me something no one could ever know about but me, because then its magic would be lost.

Accompanying the tree is a well with a hole inside it that has cushions in it. Along the top of the well is the infamously annoying joke, “Pete and Repeat were sitting on a well. Pete fell off and who was left? Repeat. Pete and Repeat were sitting on a well…” Morbid. However, the well also provides a good study spot, in case the tree happens to be occupied by those darn kids.

There are a few downsides to studying in this Neverland-esque utopia, such as the occasionally cranky librarian who kicks you out if he’s in a bad mood — “Why don’t you let the kids play in here for a change?” Yeah, that one kid who’s playing on the other side of the room seems real annoyed at me. That’s one downside, plus the overwhelming urge to abandon all your academic responsibilities and search for your long-lost childhood, as well as the fact that the library closes at 5 p.m. every day, which isn’t exactly ideal for a college student’s caffeine-driven schedule (especially during midterms, am I right?).

If you can, however, make it out to Firestone for your next study session, I would recommend skipping the C-Floor and abandoning your adulthood in the Cotsen Children’s Library. I know I’ll be there, fairy dust and all.