The summer of our discontent
Something is rotten in Washington. When I left school back in May, I never would have guessed that the political quagmire would worsen.
Something is rotten in Washington. When I left school back in May, I never would have guessed that the political quagmire would worsen.
How can the world's best undergraduate university get even better? By abolishing tuition for all of its students.
Princeton is not paradise. Its students, faculty, staff, alumni and neighbors are not saints, and the members of this community are not insulated from the temptations that plague all human beings.
Last spring, the University hosted a conference entitled "Breaking Apart the Monolith: The Many Ways of Being a Muslim." Brought to Princeton by the American Moroccan Institute, this conference seemed to me to be exactly what Princeton needs ? an academic forum which matches faces to the elusive "Muslim" logos lurking behind newspaper headlines and government documents.When I went to the opening reception at Palmer House, the Muslim Princetonians at the reception were Somalian, Kenyan, Turkish, Iranian, Moroccan and Egyptian.
A changed stance on gun control?Regarding 'Letters to the Editor' (Friday, May 18, 2007):After reading the letter written by Terry Wintroub '69, I feel that I must publicly retract my previous comments about the necessity of gun control.
News of my acceptance to Princeton University delivered me from a middling life of insipidity. I came from a distinctly undistinguished background in an authoritarian country in Southeast Asia, and had fought tooth and nail to emerge at the top of an elitist education system that, like most others, inherently privileged the rich and powerful (though, unfortunately and by definition, not the most fashionable). Most people with the resources I had would have had to sign away six years of their life to obtain a meager tertiary education funded by the government, but the University's financial aid package offered me an opportunity to be in control.
As freshmen settle into campus and grow acquainted with Princeton's social life, probably one of the last things on their minds is the risk of contracting a sexually transmitted infection (STI) on campus.
Last week I went to check out the room where I'm teaching this fall. It's the same one as last year, so its quirks are mostly familiar.
The times they are a-changin' for men in our world, and the easiest place to see this change is on trashy television.
Princeton's residential dining halls are an integral part of each college community, often providing the bedrock of interaction between undergraduates, guests and other residents.
When Woodrow Wilson, Class of 1879, attempted to bring Oxford and Cambridge's residential college system to Princeton a hundred years ago, he envisioned a cohesive community of students who would live and dine together for four years.
The easy part of building a new system of campus life from scratch has now been completed. In a school as fabulously wealthy as Princeton with scores of gazillionaire alumni eager to donate to their alma mater, constructing Chateau Whitman or rebuilding Butler was never going to be a problem once the decision to do so was made.
On Sept. 27, the campus will celebrate and formally dedicate Whitman College. This day will be remembered as a critical moment in the history of the University, for Whitman represents far more than a new 250,000 sq.
Princeton University's admission office annually assembles an incoming class of astounding diversity, which confronts professors with the daunting challenge of finding the right intellectual pitch for their lectures.To illustrate, according to the Dean of the College, the Class of 2011 has the following breakdown:Geeks (11.2 percent),Policy Wonks (14.8 percent),Tigers (58.9 percent),Party Animals (15.1 percent).Each of these groups comes to class, if they do, for entirely different reasons.Geeks eagerly seek knowledge for its own sake, whether or not it relates to the human condition.
The newness of this academic year has already been diminished by tired rhetoric carried over from the last.