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This column is the second part in a series focusing on a student campaign for private prison divestment as a lens for examining questions regarding historical and present injustice, institutional responsibility and accountability, and mechanisms of change. This series reflects my personal involvement (not as a spokesperson) in the Princeton Private Prison Divest coalition (PPPD).
Raise your hand if you ever have walked past someone you know and tried your hardest not to make eye contact — you get extra points if you made eye contact from afar, and then one or both of you whipped out your phones or suddenly pretended to be very interested in the sidewalk’s cracks.
The very word “pre-med” evokes images of consecutive all-nighters, temper tantrums, and the banging of one’s head against a wall. A Princeton education is tough across the board, but pre-med students hold a special rank on campus, both in their coursework and in how much they complain about their coursework.
Princeton is one of the most selective undergraduate colleges in the world. That is guaranteed, as there are more students who want to attend than spaces. The criteria by which Princeton decides who is allowed to be a Tiger and who is not are not set in stone. In this column, part two of a three part series on admissions, I will examine legacy. The first column explored early admissions, and the final column will discuss athletics.
Editor's Note: This column discusses issues and events that might be traumatizing, or triggering, for some, namely sexual assault and rape.
Its opponents call it terrible, a painful burden that provides useful skills only to a mere fraction of those forced to partake in it. A similar hatred prompted Blaykyi Kenyah ’19 to write earlier this academic year that “to say [he] did not enjoy [his] seminar was a gross understatement.” When I nervously questioned upperclassmen prior to undergoing the experience myself, they also labeled it a coming-of-age experience, or even a necessary evil.
On Feb. 6, CNN aired a town hall debate between Senator Bernie Sanders and Senator Ted Cruz ’92 on the merits and drawbacks of the Affordable Care Act. Neither man is in the midst of a campaign for political office. The two senators took the stage in front of an audience and millions of home viewers simply to debate their views on Obamacare, to engage in a direct forum with one another, and to have a conversation.
The use of laptop computers in the classroom is a subject of mixed opinion. Fully equipped with note-taking software, word processors, e-books, Blackboard, Facebook, Twitter, iMessage, Youtube, iTunes, and much, much more, laptops can be very effective learning tools. Many University students take advantage of their typing speed to quickly take down notes, or they reference materials like Blackboard pages or eBooks during class. However, although they’re convenient, laptops in the classroom also present an inevitable distraction to the user. Laptops pose a threat to a student’s educational experience at the University, and the use of laptops in the classroom should be restricted.
This week, Yale University succumbed to the latest in activist hysteria without fully appreciating American history when it decided to change the name of Calhoun College. This change came about as a result of protests by students who detested the residential college's namesake Senator for his ardent support of slavery. Yale's Board of Trustees should have left the name unchanged. I believe that Calhoun's legacy is worth preserving for posterity so that they may evaluate the successes and shortcomings of the country's past leaders.
The three weeks on campus that preceded Dean’s Date and finals felt eternal. But what was most painful was having no idea what to do with myself after I did eventually finish all of my schoolwork. Many of us went from a frantic working pace and wanting nothing more than a short break, to having no idea what to do with ourselves. What is most depressing are not the challenges that we expect to be unpleasant, but rather when the thing that we hope will bring relief is itself another burden.
A year or two ago, P!nk’s song “Perfect” was blasting on radios across the country. Her powerful refrain implored us “[not to] ever, ever feel like you are less than, less than perfect.” People — myself included — drank in her lyrics as a powerful message of self-affirmation and acceptance. P!nk meant well when she asked us to remember that we are perfect just the way we are, but she neglected to mention that we are humans and thus, inherently flawed. I remember listening to that song on repeat and telling myself that I was indeed perfect, but then I remembered that I was rude to a friend earlier that day and that I had yelled at my brother. These were hardly the actions of someone perfect, but P!nk was still telling me that I was.
This column is the first part in a series focusing on a student campaign for private prison divestment as a lens for examining questions regarding historical and present injustice, institutional responsibility and accountability, and mechanisms of change. This series will reflect my personal involvement (not as a spokesperson) in the Princeton Private Prison Divest coalition.
When I have to write a paper, I like having as much time as possible. However, last semester, when my professor asked the class if we wanted our final paper to be due before winter break or on Dean’s Date, we chose the earlier deadline.
In an era of unified Republican control of government, where the main levers of power are manned exclusively by factions of Ayn Rand conservatives and authoritarian populists, there is certainly much cause for wallowing in defeat. Constitutionally and procedurally, this defeatism is rational — aside from filibustering major legislation and Supreme Court nominations, there truly is little liberals in and out of government can do to stop the privatization of public education under the bafflingly incompetent Betsy DeVos, the almost-certain rollback of civil rights enforcement under the once-too-racist (for a federal judgeship)-but-now-apparently-not Jeff Sessions, or the unabashed and admitted “destruction of the state” under “alt” white supremacist Steve Bannon.
First appearing on June 14, 1876, as a fortnightly paper, The Princetonian existed before the College of New Jersey became Princeton University, before academic departments and precepts, before eating clubs and coeducation. It has witnessed the transformation of Princeton and captured the changing campus atmosphere. These transformations have not left the ‘Prince’ untouched. In its first editorial, the ‘Prince’ declared its purpose:
Fog blanketed Princeton's campus like a mask as I hustled toward Prospect Avenue. Earlier in the day, I had received a mysterious email from St. Archibald’s League, which proclaimed the group to be “Princeton’s newest, coolest, and most exclusive club” and invited me to its “admission events” at 5 Prospect Ave. — a humorously sophisticated way of indicating Campus Club.
In the wake of Donald Trump’s executive order that “suspends admissions of Syrian refugees and limits the flow of other refugees into the United States by instituting what the President has called ‘extreme vetting of immigrants,’” many have called the first weeks of Trump’s presidency a nightmare. Others have even implied that Trump's administration represents a departure from Americanism, that there is nothing American about deportations and xenophobia. In short, the American Dream has turned into the American Nightmare.
Yesterday, our colleague Ari Maas wrote an op-ed that urged the University Board of Trustees to “arm Princeton University’s Police Department officers with handguns.” He started the piece by rhetorically asking, “Princeton University wouldn’t have its carpenters do their work without a hammer, so why does the Princeton University Police Department not have the tools it needs to do its job effectively?” Unless PUPD’s job is to intimidate and kill, this insensitive analogy holds no merit in this debate.
Princeton is one of the most selective colleges in the world. That is guaranteed, as there are more students who want to attend than there are spaces at the University. The criteria by which Princeton decides who can be a tiger and who cannot are not set in stone. In this column, part of a three-part series on admissions, I will examine early admission. The subsequent two installments of my series will discuss legacy and athletics.
William F. Buckley Jr. famously stated that he would “rather be governed by the first 2,000 names in the Boston telephone directory than by the faculty of Harvard.” This was because he feared making the academic establishment the center of the government, as well as the ultimate arbiter of culture and knowledge.