Use the fields below to perform an advanced search of The Princetonian's archives. This will return articles, images, and multimedia relevant to your query. You can also try a Basic search
1000 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
On Thursday, Oct. 22, Maria Ressa ’86, a 2018 Time Person of the Year and the University’s 2020 Baccalaureate speaker, joined three journalists for a panel discussion, hosted by the Press Freedom Defense Fund (PFDF) and attended by over 200 people, including many University alumni.
When asked about how my parents met, I’ve conditioned myself to respond with, “It’s complicated.” I keep my language elusive and face straight to shut down any further questions they may have. I say “it’s complicated” because it is messy — it’s an inexplicable entanglement of traditional Indian marriage and true love, an assemblage of being found and finding each other.
Grace Rosenberg ’23 was sitting on the outdoor patio of a restaurant in August when she felt a sinking sensation in her gut.
This fall break, my family and I took a trip to San Diego — a brief escape after seven months of quarantining in Houston. Our intention was to visit a city we had friends and fond memories in. I wish I could say we had a good time. But the trip was, to be frank, 90 percent a disaster. Mostly because of me.
For those of us taking our coursework remotely, this fall break likely came and went, noticeable only as a two-day reprieve from classes and a moment’s peace from cramming for midterms. But for the 300-ish undergraduate and 1,000-ish graduate students still holding down the Orange Fort, fall break was a gentle reminder that leaving the University is possible, but that doing so comes with a certain element of risk.
Writing about poetry performance in prose is an endeavor bound to fall short. And when the deliveries are as expressive as those given by the Songline Slam poets at their “Newbie Arch” last Friday, the challenge becomes all the more daunting.
Since I saw it for the first time in my seventh grade social studies class, “The West Wing” has been my favorite show. It fed my budding interest in politics, and its good-heartedness stuck out against a television landscape that favored anti-heroes. But as real-life politics strays farther from the idealism of the show, I have revisited the lessons of the show and wondered — can we achieve the change we need through its approach to politics?
On Monday, University President Chrisopher Eisgruber ’83 wrote that the University is “preparing for the possibility that we will be able to welcome back significantly more undergraduate students in the spring.”
I’ve been active on Twitter since 2014, and it is exhausting. On the one hand, I’ve derived some very real benefits — I discovered some of my favorite artists and creators, refined my political and personal perspectives, goofed around in direct messages with my friends.
With plans for the spring semester expected in the first week of December, over 250 parents of University students are petitioning Nassau Hall to invite the entire student body back to campus.
A University-led study published earlier this month in the journal Physical Review Fluids shows how particle droplets travel through common speech habits in the absence of a face mask. Given that speech droplets are a significant source of COVID-19 transmission, this research bears particular relevance to the ongoing pandemic.
With two weeks remaining until the 2020 presidential election, leaders of the immigrant youth-led network United We Dream (UWD) discussed the history and future of their movement to expand protections for undocumented youth in an event called “DACA or Deportation,” hosted by the University’s Program in Latin American Studies. The discussion, held on Tuesday, Oct. 20, featured Cristina Jiménez, UWD’s co-founder and senior advisor, and Greisa Martinez Rosas, UWD’s executive director.
“What made something precious? Losing it and finding it.”
In high school, I had a better relationship with civil discourse. I was part of my school’s We the People team, and we competed in competitions centered on debating pressing constitutional issues. At Princeton, though, I noticed that things changed. I began dreading certain classes’ lectures and precepts. It wasn’t until recently that I realized why. My relationship with civil discourse wasn’t fracturing because I was becoming more radical or college-level discussions were more complex (I got deep into constitutional law in high school, studying everything from Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court to the definition of speech). It was because, in my department at least, I’ve found that “civil discourse” is “no holds barred.” Anything is up for debate, and that includes my right to be in the classroom at all.
If you’re anything like me, sweater weather and rainy days make you crave hearty, indulgent comfort food. I’m always yearning for some gooey macaroni and cheese. For college students, the easy route is Kraft or Annie’s White Cheddar. Don’t get me wrong – those are delicious in their own gloriously processed and packaged way, but here I’m giving you a simple, home-made version of a classic dish. It can be made with ingredients you probably already have in your pantry, and is a total show-stopper to impress your friends (socially distanced, of course!).
Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s passing and the ensuing scramble for her replacement have exposed a fundamental flaw in how America designates its judiciary. The partisan process of nominations and confirmations — procedures spearheaded by politicians with competing interests — has become contrary to the ideal of a nonpartisan court. To preserve the integrity of the judiciary, we must divorce appointments from political deliberation and put the people who know best in charge: the Justices themselves.
The death of Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg in September has made an already contentious election all the more polarized.