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(04/27/15 6:38pm)
On April 23,Colter Smith argued that body image campaignshave frequently erred in their attempts to promote a healthier environment insofar as they only target the conception that one’s body isn’t beautiful, rather than unhealthy attributions of self-worth. He makes some interesting points, but I think he largely misinterprets not only the intent of the “As I Am” campaign on campus, but also many of the motives behind other movements aimed at fostering a more positive body image.
(04/13/15 5:50pm)
There is perhaps no way to accurately convey the experience of living with an eating disorder, but over the course of the past seven years the best way I have discovered to (concisely) convey the point has been to describe a pernicious “voice” that is simultaneously mine and not mine that whispers self-loathing offers of faux control into my consciousness. Eating disorders are even difficult to describe scientifically as a grouping, for they are a strange breed of disease with three distinct subsets —anorexia nervosa, bulimia nervosa, and binge eating disorder —that manifest differently. One thing that they share, however, is the capacity to ruin lives and to generate a range of related mental and physical illnesses; anorexia specifically has the highest mortality rate of any mental illness. They are borne from a whole host of factors working together, ranging from the micro level of possible genetic variations on individual chromosomes to the macro level of enormous societal pressures to achieve bodily “perfection.”
(04/01/15 6:10pm)
TED talks have long been fodder for conversation. Ranging in subject from issues of the environment to innovations in scientific research to social commentary, these speeches often offer a snapshot of the United States’ current state of being. One of the most talked-about talks in recent weeks was one given by Monica Lewinsky, famous for her affair with then-President Bill Clinton in the early 1990s, or, in her words, for having “taken wrong turns by falling in the love with the wrong person.” In the talk, Ms. Lewinsky broaches the subject of her experience in the wake of being branded as “that girl” with a candor that is striking in its courage. She then extrapolates outward to offer a critical look upon a society that perpetuates cycles of public humiliation.
(03/03/15 2:12pm)
Hypocrisy is a curious human condition, and one that is important both to experience and to take note of, whether in oneself or in others. Rarely, however, is it a completely benign phenomenon with few consequences. The results of such conflict between action and rhetoric can be seen in stark relief thanks to the media: recently, through this powerful conduit of information, yet another glaring case of hypocrisy has sprung up that stuck out to me the same way a particularly egregious typo stands out in an email.
(02/09/15 7:10pm)
If you know me, then you know there are few things in life that make me more uncomfortable than the prospect of singing in public. I can kill a bug without blinking, I’m a veritable pyromaniac, and the sight of blood does not make me squeamish. But even just writing of the possibility of unleashing my tone-deaf, rhythmically-challenged self unto the world makes my stomach flip on its side.
(01/06/15 6:21pm)
For my friends, the process of choosing a movie involves nearly half an hour of deliberation, weighing individual preferences and moods (and the availability of certain titles on Netflix or quasi-reputable streaming sites). We float suggestions as disparate as Silence of the Lambs and Shakespeare in Love, and sometimes the whole endeavor is too fraught with conflict that we end up giving up altogether.
(11/03/14 6:54pm)
Many narratives comprise the “Princeton experience,” but perhaps what is most often cited is the idea of the Orange Bubble. It’s hard to deny it as an entity or to ignore the logic that underwrites its existence. In an environment in which students flit about from one activity to another, it stands to reason that this insular focus becomes exaggerated due to time constrictions. That’s not to say, however, that the logic of it all explains away the detriment caused by becoming isolated from the outside world.
(10/06/14 5:51pm)
I have no opinions.Well, I should qualify that statement. I have an abundance of opinions, but I have very few opinions that I feel comfortable articulating outside the realm of writing. While my voice in size 12 font is often stronger than I thought it capable, I find myself lost in bouts of verbal sparring that require well-constructed arguments, rather than sarcastic jabs. From precepts to dining hall debates, my mind seems unwilling to grant itself some acknowledgment of its own worth.Much has been said on the matter of more generational trends, in which we find ourselves mired in pluralism to the point where strong convictions are few and far between. I don’t seek to directly add to this discourse, for there are others who have studied these matters much more in depth than I could ever hope to.In my exploration of the matter as a whole, I’ve drawn mostly upon anecdotal evidence. The most striking of such stories came to me from a teacher of mine, who, on the first day of class, recounted her history as a painfully shy student, unable to make even the simplest of points in class. She went on to say that she felt sympathy for those of us plagued by similar trepidations but that she expected all of us to participate regardless. She now sees the value in everyone’s voice, including her own, as a result of a personal transformation in graduate school.Perhaps everyone needs to simply experience this personal transformation for himself or herself. Perhaps some people will never experience this and will instead be caught up in self-doubt and self-quieting habits. I hope the latter to be simply a pessimistic musing, but it is a possibility.I do believe, however, that the perfectionistic tendencies I know are ever-present in my own personality and those of many of the individuals here don’t help. I, personally, have been raised to believe that any of my many hopes and dreams can happen should I work hard enough, should I give it my best.Somehow, my brain has translated this into a rhetoric revolving around the word “perfect” —those dangerous two syllables that we all know to be an illusion and a societal construct but that many of us still chase after nonetheless and that feeds into the trend of feelings of inadequacy that plagues the University and many other institutions.And so, I suppose, this is less a discussion of a lack of opinions, but rather a criticism of the ambiguous construct of perfectionism, specifically with regard to our opinions. Thoughtfulness, thinking one’s argument through and refraining from a discussion because one doesn’t know enough about the subject are a group of things in and of themselves that are positive and should be encouraged, but there needs to be more of a discussion on campus that it’s fine—good, even — to be wrong or not say something in the exact “right way” every time. We all know this, of course, but how often do we discuss it? How often do we repeat this to ourselves and actually listen? In my case, close to never.A great deal has been said on the value of rejection, especially in the wake of a new round of club applications, rush and other similar events. Somehow, a similar discourse needs to begin with regards to “getting it wrong.” Not necessarily failing on a grand scale, but microcosms of failure. By this, I mean perhaps raising a hand in seminar despite your opinion being a little underdeveloped to allow the entire class the opportunity to work through an idea together. Maybe piping up in a conversation with friends and risking sounding a little stupid is a way to learn from the people around you. Don’t be thoughtless, but once in a while, allow yourself permission to be bold and to say something, even if you don’t know where you’re going with it.Kelly Hatfield is a sophomore from Medford, Mass. She can be reached at kellych@princeton.edu.
(09/22/14 6:40pm)
When people ask me about my time in Spain this past summer, it’s interesting to me which details emerge in sharp relief upon retelling. There are the small things, like which bus line I took from my host family’s apartment to get into the main casco, the taste of pig ear and its unsettling texture, the freak torrential downpour that struck as I once again found myself lost in the maze of Toledo’s streets. These things alone shaped my time in Spain, but they also fit into a set of larger experiences that have the potential to change my ideas.
(09/11/14 6:00pm)
I am from Saint Louis, Miss. I was born there, and I spent most of my childhood and adolescence coming to terms with the mess of contradictions and issues that form the core of the city that I identify as home, while still trying to open my eyes to what makes this “flyover city” special.
(04/30/14 6:53pm)
At dinner parties, family gatherings, and impromptu meetings with old teachers, there are always the standard questions. How do I like college? What am I involved with on campus? What am I studying?
(04/08/14 6:31pm)
The earth breathed beneath me, inhaling rain and releasing steam. These exhalations grasped at my legs as I moved by the graveyard, but I continued through the moisture, my eyes trained on the grid of tombstones. Names blurred together through the veil of the humidity, and dates became smudges of lives wiped clean by an inexorable truth. Whenever I tried to focus my gaze, the meaning of the letters danced a little farther away.
(03/26/14 8:47pm)
“Why can’t it just let go?”