Princeton graduate students could see their tax bills skyrocket to $11,000 or more if the Republican tax bill currently under consideration in the House of Representatives becomes law.
Princeton experiences are shaped by exploring passions and interests as much as the University allows, while careers come into play naturally almost as if they’re afterthoughts.
At a recent Goldman Sachs information session, I asked the recruiter, "In the event that I join the firm shortly before a recession, what are the chances that I will keep my job?"
Weinstein’s long history of harassment and assault was an “open secret” in Hollywood. People knew something was deeply wrong, and they did nothing. It’s a case study in the long, slow failure of bystander intervention. That’s the third tough truth: in a situation where women feared speaking out, men in particular found it easy to keep quiet and look away while Weinstein kept on. Quentin Tarantino has admitted he knew about Weinstein from firsthand accounts: he’s ashamed he did nothing, and has called on other men of power and influence to “do better by our sisters.”
More and more, the political environment of the United States has become concerned with symbols. In this environment, great questions of morality, justice, progress, and even philosophy are infused into national dialogue through symbology. Symbols appear on both sides of the political spectrum, emanating not only from the leaders in our democracy, but also the voices of the people. The symbols are not pictures or logos, nor insignias or crests; these symbols are the actions, the decisions, the conduct, and the ultimate successes and failures of our political system entirely.
In an age of expansive building renovations, from the new Lewis Arts Center to the restoration of the University Chapel’s roof, one building stands out for its sheer obstinate age, lack of comfort, and indelible presence in the academic careers of most undergraduates. I am referring, of course, to McCosh Hall. My simple question is: why does McCosh suck?
I remember when I was accepted to Princeton. It was a Friday, the infamous Ivy Day, to be exact, when all Ivy League schools send out their decisions, leaving thousands of high school seniors feeling extremely ecstatic or extremely inadequate. After other college rejections, I opened each Ivy League letter with low expectations.
“I choose now to live as a gay man,” Kevin Spacey solemnly acknowledged in a tweet. By "now," he means the crucial first moment after he was accused of sexual assault by a man who was, at the time, a minor. By "now," he means when it is most opportune. After reports surfaced of Spacey allegedly molesting Anthony Rapp in 1986, when Rapp was 14, the world awaited Spacey’s statement with bated breath, wondering how the notoriously private actor would respond to the explosive allegations. The answer, perhaps, is best summed up by comedian Billy Eichner on Twitter, “Kevin Spacey has just invented something that has never existed before: a bad time to come out.”
So why do critiques of business practices constitute political statements, but enthusiastic endorsements are considered apolitical? It would be one thing if Eisgruber conceded that business practices with large-scale social consequences (such as corporate welfare or gentrification) may be inherently political, or if he clearly defined the difference between a political statement and an evaluation of a company’s ethical strengths and weaknesses. It’s the inconsistency that is most troubling.
When accusations against Harvey Weinstein were first brought to light this October, it seemed like another stand-alone case. After the media cycle moved on to another story, the film industry would return to its normal ways, waiting until the next Weinstein was revealed.
I write to solicit nominations for the Pyne Prize, the highest general distinction the University confers upon an undergraduate, which will be awarded on Alumni Day, Saturday, February 24, 2018.
I affectionately joke about the small community living in my Wilson basement being a nudist colony. Despite our limited interaction as nearly strangers, my dorm neighbors and I still have a healthy sense of platonic camaraderie when it comes to accepting the unintended consequences of living with members of the opposite sex in tight quarters.
In May, the New York Times ran a glowing article about Princeton’s efforts to recruit low-income students. The article, titled “Princeton — Yes, Princeton — Takes on the Class Divide” included everything you’d expect: concessions to Princeton’s history of exclusion, favorable Pell Grant statistics, and uplifting quotes from President Eisgruber. “I get up in the morning thinking about how I can bring [the transformative Princeton] experience to more people,” he said. But it seems that even Eisgruber is guilty of that most stereotypical of Ivy League behaviors: thinking, but never doing.
One year on, halfway to the 2018 midterm elections, advocacy and activist groups are now beginning the real hard work: sustaining the advocacy effort. With much of the initial passion drained, grit and determination become critical to maintaining the efforts that will lead to lasting change.
Blind grading is a convenient way to ensure fair grading, preventing the rewarding of favorites, those who turn in good work first, and those who speak well in precept, while being fair to those who can sometimes cause trouble, took some time to find their footing in a class, and those who are quiet in precept.
By pushing to disinvite Hotovely, progressive Jews on Princeton’s campus are legitimizing the attempts on the opposite side of the political map to disinvite leaders of organizations such as Breaking the Silence, which is comprised of Israelis who shed light on the destructive nature of the continued military occupation of the West Bank. But more importantly, they are stopping themselves from fully understanding the political and religious realities of Israel. If the American Jewish community wants to exercise influence over Israel, the first step must be to appreciate its multifaceted, frustrating, and seemingly incomprehensible existence.
In the interest of fair and open conversation, I challenge members of the AJP to an open debate on the importance of hard conversation on campus and invite the CJL to sponsor a dialog about this.
The university has no control over the fares of New Jersey Transit or Megabus, but could facilitate a more cost effective and efficient way for students to get to the city.
