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(10/05/22 3:22am)
As a rising fifth-year graduate student, I have lived in Princeton longer than anywhere else in my adult life. Eating local produce means tomatoes and blueberries — not the peaches from my hometown in Western Colorado. My fridge is now stocked with beer from Cape May — not New Belgium, not Ithaca Beer Company, not Flying Dog in Maryland. I own more orange than I ever believed was possible. Over the past four years, I have traded my American Airlines miles for United’s so I am better prepared for the certain chaos of Newark Liberty International Airport. Yet, I often feel like a minority among the graduate student body in claiming Princeton as my home.
(10/04/22 1:05am)
In honor of the closure of Nassau Street’s Dunkin’, I’m taking a trip down memory lane. For the first-years who never even knew this Dunkin’ once existed, let me enlighten you: This Dunkin’ did not have particularly good coffee or stellar customer service. It wasn’t always tasty or pleasant. It didn’t have the local charm of Small World or the customizability of Starbucks. But it was always there for you. And it was always the cheapest option.
(09/29/22 3:13am)
In a small candle shop near an entrance to a Hong Kong subway station, a middle-aged gentleman spoke to me about astrology and life’s dreams. I kid you not. This random store owner asked, out of nowhere, if I was a Pisces. I am. “Love comes slowly, and life’s dreams could be within reach,” he assured me; I added this memory to my cache of interesting encounters. In rented studio spaces, I played card games with local college students whom I’d only met a few times. I sampled countless 1980s Cantopop albums on my late night taxi trips back home. I can imagine my memories of summer strung together by the countless hands of those I briefly crossed paths with — like dried persimmon that hang in markets.
(09/26/22 3:53am)
In an experience I think is common for many Princeton students, I often find myself searching for more immediate significance to my studies: it is one thing to spend a lot of time reading and thinking about postcolonialism, but an entirely more difficult thing to find out how to work with an abstract name for a very real phenomenon in the contemporary world.
(09/23/22 2:29am)
There’s a tree so tall and so sprawling that a still-low morning sun produces a shadow so long that it blankets a large swath of Washington Road and even strains to graze the grass before 1879 Hall. The tree sits on the northwest corner of the Princeton Tower Club’s lot. I often enjoy sitting under the tree’s shade on cooler, late summer afternoons and well into autumn before the tree drowns the yard in its leaves. This tree dominates over Prospect Avenue, dwarfing recently planted trees that line the street under its canopy. I know the tree best in its barren state — only its massive trunk and its innumerable branches fragmenting into a mute sky during the core of the academic year. Truthfully, the imposing trunk is what has recently been confronting my imagination most.
(09/19/22 2:08am)
“Table for one.” It’s such a seemingly odd, out-of-the-ordinary request that the Princeton Triangle Club has a whole song about it. A duet, the song rides on its singers’ desire for a “table for two” — which they fatefully, perfectly achieve by the melody’s end. I’ve seen the song play out countless times, but a “table for one” holds such a different place in my life: It’s not odd. No, it feels too familiar. I’ve taken myself out to dinner or lunch, to breakfast or for coffee innumerable times. Often it’s simply out of necessity — but a few solo meals stand apart, persisting at the front of my memory for the greater emotion they carried.
(09/09/22 2:43am)
How does one come to love this school? It’s a question that’s recently been on my mind. I couldn’t avoid it at Reunions, with the passion of the alumni in attendance on display no matter where I turned. I couldn’t avoid it as I returned from my summer program, feeling the stress of a semester at this school slowly creeping back up into my jaw. I couldn’t avoid it as I moved in for my final year at this school, filled with dread for the goodbyes lying ahead.
(09/07/22 2:37am)
This piece is part two of a two-part Dispatch collection and part of the Dispatch summer 2022 series. Dispatches at The Prospect are brief reflections from our writers that focus on their experiences during the summer break.
(08/31/22 2:15am)
Hear me out: you shouldn’t take classes on Wednesdays.
(08/31/22 1:23am)
This piece is part one of a two-part Dispatch collection and part of the Dispatch summer 2022 series. Dispatches at The Prospect are brief reflections from our writers that focus on their experiences during the summer break.
(08/31/22 1:52am)
Dispatches at The Prospect are brief reflections from our writers that focus on their experiences during the summer break. This piece is part of the Dispatch summer 2022 series.
(09/01/22 9:39pm)
“Я люблю тебя.” I love you.
(08/17/22 2:23am)
Dispatches at The Prospect are brief reflections from our writers that focus on their experiences during the summer break. This piece is part of the Dispatch summer 2022 series.
(08/03/22 2:34am)
Dispatches at The Prospect are brief reflections from our writers that focus on their experiences during the summer break. This piece is part of the Dispatch summer 2022 series.
(08/03/22 2:51am)
Content Warning: The following piece contains mentions of death.
(08/03/22 2:43am)
Dispatches at The Prospect are brief reflections from our writers that focus on their experiences during the summer break. This piece is part of the Dispatch summer 2022 series.
(07/20/22 2:06am)
Dispatches at The Prospect are brief reflections from our writers that focus on their experiences during the summer break. This piece is part of the Dispatch summer 2022 series.
(07/08/22 12:16am)
Dispatches at The Prospect are brief reflections from our writers that focus on their experiences during the summer break. This piece is part the Dispatch summer 2022 series.
(07/08/22 12:44am)
Dispatches at The Prospect are brief reflections from our writers that focus on their experiences during the summer break. This piece is part the Dispatch summer 2022 series.
(06/22/22 12:10am)
Dispatches at The Prospect are brief reflections from our writers that focus on their experiences during the summer break. This piece is part the Dispatch summer 2022 series.