Toward the end of my first semester at Princeton, I came to the harrowing conclusion that I could no longer study (productively) in my dorm room.
It was the beginning of the winter reading period — a week-long interval at the end of the semester devoted wholly to producing final essays and projects and, of course, studying. I had an eight-page Modern Fiction paper to crank out. But, sitting at my messy desk, with the temptation of my warm bed calling to me from two feet away, I found that I could not type a word of this essay. So, like a good student, I stashed away my study materials into my backpack, donned my massive winter coat, and prepared myself to brave the impossibly terrifying world outside of my dorm: campus during finals season.
Let me explain: campus is not actually impossibly terrifying during finals season. It’s actually very fun and welcoming. It’s just impossibly crowded. Every formerly tranquil space becomes the opposite — dotted with students who’ve emerged from their campus crevices, with their friendly study buddies and loud conversations. Because of this reality, during reading period, despite its name, I found it almost impossible to read, or focus, or write a paper in any public space on campus. But, as my dorm proved not to be any more of a productive setting, I was forced to go on a quest. A quest in search of a place of quiet — without distractions — and full of sunlight (because I cannot study without some encouraging light). My first stop was Chancellor Green.
In my opinion, Chancellor Green is one of the most gorgeous libraries on campus. It shares space with the building of East Pyne — home to many of Princeton’s language and humanities departments — and has more windows than I’ll ever have time to count. I love this library because of its light. Sunshine fills every corner of it. I also love it because of its private study cubicles. The Chancellor Green library has an upper level full of single study desks. After I failed to start my daunting essay in my dorm, I was sure that the omnipresent sunshine and solitude of Chancellor Green would be the perfect ingredients for my much-needed productivity. And I was right. Sitting by a large French window, surrounded by age-old books and alone, I cranked out 2/8 pages of my paper. But, as I tried to brave the third page, I was stuck. It seemed Chancellor Green’s well of reading period productivity had run dry for the day, so I, again, braved the outside world to seek out more.
My journey and midday hunger brought me to Frist Campus Center — home to the Frist Food Gallery (a cafeteria-esque basement level filled with snacks, a grill, a taco bar, a pasta/salad bar, an Asian food bar, and more). After securing a cheeseburger and fries for encouragement, I settled into Frist’s third-floor McGraw Center library. There, fed and encouraged by some more sunlight, I knocked out two more pages of my paper. I was feeling great about my progress and my discovery of some campus tranquility. But then came the lunch rush. More hungry students, with friendly study buddies and loud conversations, filled my study spot. It was time to disembark, again.
My next stop was New South — a building home to Princeton’s Creative Writing Department, Princeton’s Writing Center, and many empty classrooms, just waiting to be taken advantage of. Unfortunately, upon my arrival, I discovered that other desperate students had nabbed all these classrooms. But, on the Creative Writing floor, I found an empty table with some gorgeous and encouraging overhead light to knock out the next page of my paper. At this point, I was halfway through and still feeling the momentum. As a reward for finishing another page, another student abandoned their rare gem of an empty classroom, and I promptly seized it. Here, with the gift of a blank whiteboard and a room entirely to myself, I was able to brainstorm the final pages of my paper, pacing back and forth, throwing out ideas aloud, and jotting down notes on the board. It was here that I completed the final three pages of my paper.
With this completion under my belt, I felt brave enough to brave the monster of all study spots on campus — Firestone Library. I needed one last place to do the final edits on my paper. And I also needed a change of scenery. Firestone Library is the monster of all study-spots during reading period. The library has six levels — all stocked with large clusters of cubicles and a plethora of reading rooms where silence is mandatory. It is the motherlode of tranquil study spaces on campus. But, for a first-year still acclimating to the study culture, finding the right spot can be a little daunting. On this day, however, I was ready.
I sent the elevator to every floor, quietly and discreetly inspecting each reading room to see which one had the most encouraging sunlight and the least daunting amount of people. I landed on the C-floor Reading Room. Nestled behind the library’s Specials Collection section, the C-floor reading room has a ceiling of windows, so sunlight reaches every corner. It also seems the quietest of all the reading rooms — even during the reading period, many people seem to ignore it or forget that it exists. For me, it was the perfect place to conclude my beast of an essay. There, I completed the majority of edits for my paper, even added an aesthetically pleasing cover page, and called it a day. Throughout my spring semester, I often returned to the study spots I found on this day-long journey for tranquility, sunlight, and productivity. I’ve found that, usually, when I’m too deep into an assignment and unsure of what to write/do next, I just need to move. Having several go-to study spots on campus allows me to circulate, and not stay in one place mentally or physically.
I’m grateful for the opportunity to study on a campus with such a plethora of tranquil, sunlit spaces to focus, and I look forward to the study-spot discoveries that my next three years at Princeton will bring.