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As I walked a first-year friend up the numerous flights of stairs to her dorm room at the top of 1937, she made an offhand comment about a relatively mild inconvenience that stuck with me. The dorm room assignment gods had not looked kindly upon her floor, and somehow my friend had been stuck on a hall where there were “seven-plus girls using one bathroom that only had one stall, one shower, and two sinks.” The designated “men’s” bathroom on the hall, on the other hand, was shared by just two boys.
It was getting pretty annoying: a friend in a foreign country only ever texted me when she needed help with her English homework. She was important to me, so at first, I was happy to oblige. After the fifth or sixth time, I began getting annoyed. Then, when I visited the country, I invited her to grab dinner with me. She accepted — but later reneged and never followed up. It hurt, but it finally hit me: I was “useful” to her. I served a very specific purpose in her life, and that was to help her with English homework.
On Monday, Sept. 23, a day before the official commencement of the 74th U.N. General Assembly in New York, the U.N. Secretary-General António Guterres publicly announced the formation of a Syrian constitutional committee to bring together the government of the Syrian Arab Republic and the Syrian Negotiations Commission.
In 2017, I published an article in The Daily Princetonian asking where the female faculty at Princeton were — the answer was that they are obscured by the sea of white-male faculty. While many of those male professors are excellent educators and mentors, the lack of female professors on campus should be disturbing, especially in light of the fact that about half of University students are female.
On Monday, Provost Deborah Prentice announced that the Council of the Princeton University Community (CPUC) has dispensed with its long-standing practice of allowing the public to ask questions during its quarterly meetings. Trivial though the decision may seem, its undemocratic precedent should not be ignored.
As I begin my sophomore year at the University, I’ve become more serious about my academic career — especially relating to major choice. Having developed a broad set of interests from the courses here, I am conflicted about what discipline I should choose — the area of study that will label and define my university education. And while I’m being a bit overdramatic about it, I am sure that this concern is not unique to myself.
The spring junior paper (JP) is the first experience many students have with independent work while at the University. While the JP may be intended to function as a precursor to the eventual senior thesis, the lack of course credit for this work diminishes much of the value which the JP could potentially offer. Increasing the length of the JP, while also ensuring it counts for one course credit, would enable students to take three courses in their junior spring, hence letting them produce higher quality work for the paper.
The prospect of independent life can certainly be daunting. That was, at least to some degree, true for me. After having been on the required underclassman meal plan, I decided to join an eating club for my junior year. When I arrived in September for my last year at Princeton, I was returning an independent. What I have found so far has been a campus with so much more to offer and a living experience that gives me much more control over my eating options.
The streets of Paris came alive this summer as the Women’s World Cup enthralled the nation. Studying abroad there, I felt an enormous pride wearing my stars and stripes on America’s game days, not just because the U.S. National Team was playing, but because this team was taking the field.
When I first arrived on campus, I was afraid to discuss politics. It wasn’t that I was uncertain of my beliefs, but Princeton students have a formidable reputation. Coming from the dirt roads and cornfields of the Midwest, having never dreamt of attending an Ivy League university, I knew I was entering the lists.
Housed in the austere Whig Hall, with Woodrow Wilson staring gravely upon them, a couple hundred students sit on the edge of their seats, waiting for the next Joe Biden slipup or incendiary roast from Julián Castro. I, too, sit with my friends, pizza and drink in hand. If Joe Biden confuses himself again, the room cringes; when Julián Castro calls Joe out on his confusion, the crowd roars in laughter; when Andrew Yang so much as opens his mouth, he is met with ridicule and snickering.
In 2017, an FBI investigation uncovered a bribery scheme in the complex web of college-basketball recruitment. The investigation revealed, among other offenses, a meeting in which a Louisville assistant coach, an Amateur Athletic Union (AAU) coach, and an investment advisor discussed paying a recruit. After hearing about this meeting, Sonny Vaccaro, a former marketing executive for Adidas, Nike, and Reebok, told The Washington Post that “everybody around [the player] in that meeting ... is making money off of him, and he's 17 years old.”
We, the undersigned faculty, recognize that climate change poses a grave threat to the wellbeing of all inhabitants of the earth. We believe that delaying mitigation and adaptation measures will increase the intensity of the consequences beyond globally marked tipping points. These consequences result in unequal burdens; disadvantaged communities, near and far, shoulder the most severe impacts of the globally changing climate. We recognize that our residency in one of the most powerful nations in the world, and one that disproportionately contributes to this problem, leaves us — as a nation, as a state, as a University, and as individuals — responsible to take immediate and robust action.
The Housing Office welcomes new and returning students to campus. We hope you had a productive summer and a great start to the new year!
I have been listening to Lil Wayne since I was in the fifth grade. But it wasn’t until one lonely summer night, after I stumbled upon a compelling piece on Vice, that I discovered the best track he’s ever produced: “I Feel Like Dying.” The song, leaked online in 2007, piercingly narrates the orgasmic highs and apocalyptic lows of drug addiction — the highs that always make the lows worth it, and the lows that always make the highs worthless: the glorious, vicious paradox of hardcore chemical alteration.
As our leaders equivocate and waver, we, the undersigned, will strike with other climate-concerned young people around the world this Friday, Sept. 20. Coinciding with the start of the UN Climate Action Summit in New York, we strike for stronger action on the climate crisis.
Ideally, patriotism is a beautiful notion — a love for one’s homeland and heritage paired with a burning desire to protect those roots. In the real world, however, the idea of “patriotism” devolves into just another weapon used to propel conflicts between nationalist governments. Even more egregiously, it is often merely a disingenuous rebranding of chauvinism.
A great University like Princeton encourages its students to think differently.
It’s the beginning of another year: doe-eyed frosh and self-assured seniors alike flood campus, bringing it to life. New friends are made, old friends are greeted, and everyone indulges in the buzzing excitement of being back again. In years past, at this point, many people would be heading to the eating clubs for a weekend of festivities and partying known as “Frosh Week.” Though technically the Interclub Council (ICC) policy has always stipulated that first-years are not allowed into the clubs during orientation period, this has never been actually enforced until this year.
Welcome back to campus. This summer brought a lot of front-page headlines from the climate files—from Hurricane Dorian wiping out the Bahamas and ravaging the East Coast to swaths of the Amazon rainforest and Arctic tundra burning at record rates. Europe and Japan suffered through immense heat waves that left thousands dead; wildfires swept through Australia. These ever-graver catastrophes have blown away many of our predictions for what “normal” weather looks like.