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(05/25/23 4:19am)
From the corner of the long room, sitting behind the outgoing department chair who stood to offer a few end-of-year remarks, I could see before me so many of the people who have fundamentally shaped who I am. It’s funny how it works that way, isn’t it? You go into a classroom the first week, worried about weekly reading loads or problem sets, dreading midterms and projects and finals. But at the end of the semester, you leave the classroom, emerging back into the world beyond, and suddenly realize that those assignments may have been the least consequential element of it all. Of value is the new or deepening relationship with the person at the front of the hall or leading the discussion that has most profoundly altered your self, your world.
(05/30/23 12:45am)
Across my time as a Princeton undergraduate, I’ve sung along to “Old Nassau” more times than I care to count. By now, I’ve learned to drop an octave for the song’s latter half lest I run out of room at the top of my vocal range for the final notes. But there’s another life in which I and so many other Princetonians before me would’ve learned to sing the same words of our alma mater to another tune: Before the music was written, there was first an attempt to simply use the tune of “Auld Lang Syne” — that New Year’s classic which so beautifully yet hauntingly bids farewell to the old with some hope for the new. And while Commencement may be a celebratory occasion to mark the turning of a new chapter, these final moments before it, I’ve found them to be so weighed down by the haunts of farewells.
(03/27/23 3:09am)
March 24, 2023, will go down as one of those days that somehow encapsulates everything I love about being a Princeton Tiger. It began with a thesis presentation, continued with a smiling singer, crescendoed on the basketball court, and dwindled with a quiet conversation heading home.
(02/27/23 3:10am)
The fall of my junior year, I sat in one of those dark wood-paneled East Pyne classrooms, learning about the transformation of France in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. For weeks on end, I heard the same French word I did not know over and over again. Slowly, from context and repetition, I pieced together some understanding of it.
(02/23/23 2:26am)
The following content is purely satirical and entirely fictional.
(02/13/23 1:31am)
See the first part of this two-part installment here.
(02/09/23 7:01am)
Day One
(02/01/23 3:11am)
The following content is purely satirical and entirely fictional.
(01/31/23 1:24am)
“Paris is cold,” I offered, and he responded, “The weather or the people?”
(12/31/22 4:25am)
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(12/19/22 2:27am)
All this from noticing an architectural quirk: these nine empty statuary niches led me along a year-long journey of observation and intrigued writes head editor José Pablo Fernández García in a visual journey through history and memory on campus.
(12/21/22 5:59am)
The first two times I watched Wes Anderson’s “The French Dispatch,” I got awfully close to crying at the end when all the staffers assembled to write the editor’s obituary. I certainly at least teared up at this scene — not because of the film’s own emotional stakes, but rather because it made me think of my own newsroom experience as an editor at The Daily Princetonian.
(12/14/22 3:24am)
Some spring day, a close friend told me that I’m very comfortable being the exception. She meant it as a compliment — that I’m confident enough in myself to find and follow my own path. I understood it as such. But it has also been haunting me since I heard her speak it. It’s an idea I’ve found myself returning to quite often, whenever not distracted by the day, or music, or some writing.
(12/09/22 4:20am)
To digest life in this world is such a messy undertaking that I find great satisfaction when everything seems to converge in a point of understanding — a point in which it all, for a moment oh so brief, assumes some unifying clarity. Oftentimes, this arrives a couple weeks into the semester, in the form of my courses melding into one overlapping set of questions and ideas — no longer discrete sets of readings, discussion posts, and final essays. This semester, I have felt everything barreling toward a most essential question of the self. Montaigne and Camus, Impressionist artworks and other European landmarks, they’ve all been racing to make sense of the self, the individual — or at least that’s how they’ve entered my mind.
(11/29/22 4:39am)
Princeton invests so much effort into welcoming its new students that I probably couldn’t list every activity or resource offered to a matriculating student, but I found that, despite all this effort, the school doesn’t bother to always get one’s name right — not even when giving someone their netID and other web accounts that will unlock the next four years.
(11/21/22 4:19am)
The stars are around for any and all of my walks after dinner. From Tower Club to The Daily Princetonian newsroom and then back to my dorm, the sky is there for me. Such moments of looking up to the night sky carry a lot of memories for me; I’m reminded of previous night walks and all their varied emotions — some good, some less so.
(11/04/22 3:10am)
Just about eight years ago, I stepped into a theater and worked on its lights for the first time. I remember those Friday afternoon hours in the dark vividly. I learned which bolts to tighten or loosen, which metal parts to slide in or out or around, and which parts to not touch so as to avoid burns — all in the process of achieving the perfect beam of light. I was only 14 years old and a couple of growth spurts smaller, so I remember the then-high school senior who saw me struggling with an awkwardly large wrench for my hands and came over to offer some advice. I remember the sense of awe I experienced, watching how those beams of light could change in color and texture and so many other ways with a simple sheet of plastic or a thin, stamped disk of metal.
(10/12/22 2:11am)
“Anticulation” is the latest art exhibition to be held in the CoLab space at the Lewis Center for the Arts. The show’s title “is a word, created for this show, that aims to capture the particularities of black, gay, and black gay archival practices,” according to the curatorial statement. The Daily Princetonian asked the show’s curator, Omar Jason Farah ’23, to elaborate on some of these themes and also asked some of the artists about their work in relation to Farah’s notion of anticulation. “Anticulation” will be on display in the Lewis Center for the Arts until Oct. 13.
(10/12/22 2:02am)
The following content is purely satirical and entirely fictional.
(10/07/22 3:28am)
There is nothing louder than the embarrassment of one’s rainy, rubber-soled shoes squeaking on the B floor of Firestone Library. But there I was, breaking the sacred silence, as I ventured to my new locker with the first two books out of the dozens I requested for my thesis research. Somehow, despite the self-conscious embarrassment of my sonorous shoes, it was in that moment of carrying my books and battling the dial lock for the first of many times to come, that I finally found a sense of calm and stability this fall.