A model of constructive discussion
Katherine ZhaoLast weekend, I took a break from the Orange Bubble and went to the East Coast Asian American Student Union conference, which was held at George Washington University in Washington, D.C.
Last weekend, I took a break from the Orange Bubble and went to the East Coast Asian American Student Union conference, which was held at George Washington University in Washington, D.C.
Just one of the many texts and missed calls I received when I woke up last fall after my friend, as a light-hearted prank, had changed my Facebook status to “Leaving for the semester, can’t wait to see you guys next year!” While I quickly resolved the confusion, informing my very worried mother and my less concerned friends that I was in fact not leaving for the next semester (probably to the dismay of my more vocal and critical readers), the response from those close to me left a lasting impression. Instead of being a potential for alternative growth or creativity, the idea of leaving was considered a rash judgment.
No one would argue that the Princeton social scene isn’t very centralized. The majority of parties happen on the Street or in someone's dorm as a pregame before some eating club event.
On a gut level, international law and practice professor emeritus Richard Falk’s recent University-sanctioned lecture invitation was troubling.
Humans are odd creatures. We’ve excelled as a species because of our ability to communicate and work together.
Despite the stereotype afforded to English majors, I am not terrible at math. I cannot say I enjoy the subject nor that its more complicated aspects come naturally, but I am certainly capable of basic understanding and usage.
This column is the first in a series about socioeconomic diversity and low-income students at the University. While we were holed up in dorms and libraries studying for finals, University President Christopher Eisgruber ’83 was out and about, visiting the home of Princeton alumna, one Michelle Obama ’85.
The Princeton University Library system holds almost 60,000 theses, written by senior students from 1926 to 2013.
This past Friday, Ted Nugent issued a half-hearted, half-assed (though existent) apology for calling President Obama a “subhuman mongrel” while at a rally for Greg Abbott, attorney general of Texas and candidate for governor.
Two weeks ago, Missouri defensive lineman Michael Sam announced that he is gay, and thus will become the first openly gay player to enter the NFL draft.
You, as well as I, have probably grown tired of hearing the same critiques of the matchmakerly advice given by Susan Patton ’77 — that she entrenches antifeminist ideas or is closed-mindedly elitist and gender normative.
It’s no secret that Princeton students like to be involved. Admittedly, the number of student groups on campus is impressive given the size of the student body.
According to Major E.C. Lewis, president of the Louisville and Nashville Terminal Company,James Robertsonwas 5’9” with a heavy build, slender body and private demeanor.
I’ll discuss pretty much any topic with anyone, including a complete stranger. I just really enjoy hearing other people’s views and offering my own— a large part of why I am an opinion columnist.
I, like many students here, spent my final afternoon before classes squeezed onto a couch to watch the Super Bowl.
When Princeton students try to show their school spirit to non-Princeton students, it seems the line between engaging in genuine school appreciation and inter-university comparisons isn’t always clear.
As a molecular biology major, after every name/hometown/department introduction, I inevitably get asked, “Oh, so are you premed?” To be honest, I don’t know too many MOL majors who aren’t premed.
As first semester drew to a close and final grades came out, I was reminded of a common sentiment that I had heard from many of my engineering friends — that being an engineering major is “hard.” In and of itself, such a subjective statement isn’t really anything I can argue against.
“Last night, she said:‘Oh, baby, I feel so down. Oh it turns me off, When I feel left out.’ ”- The Strokes Last Saturday night: upstairs, in the bathroom stall of my own eating club.