by Claire Nuchtern Whenever i tell people I want to be a teacher, I typically get the same response.
In her column last Thursday, Tehila Wenger argued that the reasons behind “women’s relative silence” in class are nuanced and complex.
In theory, the purpose of problems sets should be to reinforce students’ skills outside of class by application of what was taught in lecture.
I cannot tell you how many times I have heard the phrase, “College is the best four years of your life!” Seeing as I am only a little more than a quarter of the way through college, I can’t really vouch for the truth of this statement.
Maybe it’s because I grew up near Washington, D.C., but I naturally assume people are engaged and actively involved in politics because, simply put — Public policy impacts you and everything you do. But, across campus, many students are not engaged in political action to try to solve the problems we face.
You can hardly say I was raised on football. For me, NFL stands for “National Forensics League” and phrases like “The USS Enterprise Carrier is nearly four football fields long” were more confusing than helpful.
When he walked out on stage, I could hardly have missed him. How could I, when he’s six-foot-six?
I believe that genuineness is a central core of the human condition, and that without it much of what it means to be human is lost — a deeply metaphysical claim for a freshman who doesn’t even really know what metaphysics is.
In one of my seminars last week, all of the male students happened to leave the classroom during the break while a few women stayed behind.
I’m anti-Semitic. Well, at least, that’s what people were saying.
Shout it in the streets. Spam the email inboxes. And, for god's sake, somebody put an article in the 'Prince.' Autumn is coming to an end, we are severely unprepared, and meningitis is coming.
In middle school in England, my friends and I used to entertain ourselves by exchanging overdrawn imitations of the stereotypical American valley girl: “Let’s, like, go to the mall!” “OMG, I like, love, like, that shirt!” Feeling smug, I sniggered and mocked, certain I’d never actually talk that way. So I was horrified a few weeks ago when I relistened to an interview I had done for a journalism assignment and discovered that the word “like” featured in almost every sentence.
A couple weeks ago, Benjamin Dinovelli wrote a column titled “Forgetting I’m Asian.” In it, he describes his struggles with the notion of cultural identity as an ethnically Asian student raised by white parents.
In her Nov. 13column, “Pursuing our passions,” Prianka Misra proposes that classes should “adopt a more applied philosophy and utilize an involved approach to assignments and activities, teaching students the problem-solving strategies that are reflected in the real world.” Misra discusses her experience in Professor John Danner’s interactive and application-heavy class, “Special Topics in Social Entrepreneurship: Ventures to Address Global Challenges.” The class allows students to delve into a “pre-professional realm of academics” by letting them apply the concepts they learn to their own venture ideas.
At big time college programs, there is plenty for an incoming freshman athlete to be worried about.
In July and September of this year, the Princeton Alumni Weekly celebrated the long life and upcoming demolition of the Butler Apartments: the barrack-like tract of small frame houses, first opened on Christmas in 1946, that replaced Princeton’s polo field.
It may be time to open Pandora’s box. I am speaking, of course, about the feasibility of integrating mixed modes of learning into Princeton’s humanities courses.
There has been a trend in the past four decades of University students shying away from the humanities in favor of science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM). The world is becoming increasingly technology-centric.
I decided my major in literally a split second. I was sitting in a room in 1879 Hall waiting for precept to begin, when I realized—suddenly — I was content.
As I write these articles, I often wonder if this is what I could do for a living. When I wrote for my high school newspaper, I did not muse with such audacity.
