Last month, the University announced reforms to its tenure process that we as a board believe will have positive effects on our campus.
Most college professors at one time or another have to face the Ivory Tower Crisis, by which I mean we must come to terms with the fact that we lead privileged lives of leisured contemplation in a world in which millions scavenge for the merest elements of subsistence.
Sitting at my desk with Wolf Blitzer's information-overload "Situation Room" blaring in the background and looking at commercially available before-and-after satellite photos of the Big Easy, I'm desperately trying to figure out why a benevolent god would allow a tragedy like Hurricane Katrina to happen.More distressing is the fact that the U.S.
After weeks of uncertainty, Campus Club is expected to announce its decision not to reopen as an eating club today.
Welcome Freshmen wasn't just an outstanding show on Nickelodeon from 1991 to 1993; it was also something that former Dean of Admission Fred Hargadon used to do.
After two years of reading and writing Daily Princetonian opinion columns, one begins to anticipate when certain topics will appear in print.
A warm welcome to Princeton! You have much to learn about these hallowed grounds you now inhabit.
Mr. President, you've got your work cut out for you. I'm talking to you, Leslie (I've given up on that other guy). You are attempting perhaps the most ambitious agenda the USG has ever conceived.
Dear Undergraduate Housing Department:First of all, I just want to say thank you. I really appreciate that you took me off the wait list and gave me such a lovely room, even if I only found out about it several weeks after all the freshmen had their housing assignments (and had found themselves several hundred "friends" on thefacebook.com). But it's nice, it really is, and it definitely beats that tent my draw group and I were planning on pitching in the middle of the junior slums.But even though all my friends are now saying "I told you so" (meaning "I told you that being on the wait list is a sweet deal and I wish you would have shut up with your talking about pitching a tent in the middle of the junior slums"), and even though I know I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, I need to express some lingering concerns regarding how you guys treat Princeton students.I'm not going to rant about the general pitfalls of moving; I'm sure you've all moved houses, apartments or perhaps even yurts in your life.
Being pro-choice in America has become synonymous with being pro-Roe. Activists have spent the last 30 years convincing themselves ? and the American public ? that if Roe goes, the fight for reproductive freedom is lost.
The joyful start of this new school year comes on the heels of great sorrow and woe, as the disaster of Hurricane Katrina has profoundly touched many members of the Princeton community.
I've spent the better part of the last month working up the nerve to ask someone out. So who's the object of my affection?Get your mind out of the gutter ? I'm talking about finding a senior thesis adviser.Look, I know I'm not the only one who has made the connection: Securing an adviser for your thesis is a lot like finding a Houseparties date.
We all know how difficult it is to get into Princeton. Of the 13,695 prospective members of the Class of 2008 who applied to Princeton last year, only about 12 percent were offered admission.
Earlier this month, dozens of Princetonians stood outside Frist Campus Center reading from their favorite texts to protest the use of the so-called "nuclear option" by Senate Republicans.
It's hard for us to imagine the world of George F. Kennan '25 as anything but newsreel footage. The Long Telegram, the Marshall Plan, the vocabulary of "containment" and "rollback": these are the relics of the early Cold War, a historical moment long since incorporated into high school history textbooks.
VH1 would call it "The Best Academic Year Ever," or perhaps "I Love 2004/05." Nassau Hall's admissions pamphlets probably refer to it as "Princeton's glorious year of liberty, diversity and no fraternities." (They'd be lying, of course). And those of you who have followed my exploits during this academic year know it as "a year that will live in infamy," marking the beginning of open hostilities in the War on Fun.
Like many other faculty, I travel out in the country once or twice a year visiting alumni clubs, clubs organized on the curious principle that their members once did something.
