We read the books, finish the problem sets, take the exams and then, having been “taught to think,” we are shoveled out into various careers, better equipped to contribute in any field. Or so we’re told.
As I stepped into the bathroom today I had a choice of four vacant showers. Waiting for me in shower one was a diverse array of hairy situations plastered on the wall.
The calls for government involvement point towards a disturbing, and increasingly prevalent, mindset. Government is not the solution for anything we don’t like in our lives, and especially not for problems that government itself actually created.
Community is no less important in the lives of the students who make up each freshman class at Princeton. All of us matriculate as products of our places. We come to this university with a set of morals instilled by our friends, family and neighbors.
As of 2010, six of the eight Ivy League universities offer undergraduate single concentrations in linguistics. Princeton, however, is not among them, even though we do offer a certificate program in linguistics, and undergraduates commonly create independent concentrations in the subject. The Editorial Board feels that this gap in our academic offerings must be filled in order to provide the most enriching intellectual environment for our students and to continue to attract the highest caliber of prospective students.
In recent years, universities and research centers from Berlin to Beijing have caught up or passed us in many fields. The states have decided that higher education isn’t a public good, which they should support, but a private one, which students and their families should pay for.
In order to adequately assess the success of our efforts to increase the socioeconomic diversity of the student body and in order to effectively discuss future modifications to our efforts, it is necessary that we possess accurate and clear measurements about the current state of affairs.
Since we cannot personally thank the dead, we most certainly should show our appreciation for the living veterans. It’s men like the following four who we thank on this day. Each epitomizes the soldier’s duty of putting his own life at risk to protect others.
Beth Covin asks that students be happy during their time at Princeton.
After a little time and too much wallowing to the mind-numbing sounds of dubstep, the sting of rejection has worn off, and we have since let our bitter resentments go. The truth is we’ve all moved on to other things. Our rejections nudged us and pushed us and forced us towards new possibilities.
It seems that there are enough advisers per student to take care of every social and academic aspect of our lives. And yet, one semester into my college career, I have difficulty identifying ways my advisers have benefited me in concrete terms.
The way she saw it, loads of kids come into Princeton having done community service by volunteering throughout high school, but something happens during their time here, and, instead of graduating loads of kids into not-for-profit, volunteer-oriented jobs, we place them at consulting firms, banks or other corporate entities. This career trajectory was presented as a non sequitur for the once civically minded. She wanted to know: What was it that happened?
We believe that pessimism about the Orange and Black Ball, at least at this stage, is unwarranted, and we support the class governments’ decision to hold the ball
If students could give preceptors and professors midterm evaluations, the second half of the semester could be better for both the students and the teachers.
What we don’t understand is that being happy isn’t like being a good student; emotions aren’t graded. If they were, the only way to get an A would be admitting to others and, more importantly, to ourselves when all we want to do is cry.
A ball. There are very few things that inspire such a romantic notion in a girl’s mind as a ball, especially a girl who grew up watching Cinderella and who until age 8 would leave single shoes in parks, classrooms and hotels so that “Prince Charming could find her.” So when the idea of an all-school ball was presented in a random class government meeting last winter, I was sold.
