An introduction from blogger Melissa Ruiz '25: 

Without a doubt, every student at Princeton will tell you there was one class that completely changed their perspective on a topic, a field of study or even life. Courses like these are available at Princeton, they make you reevaluate what you think you know and even spark curiosity to learn something new. As Hispanic/Latinx Heritage Month comes to an end, I’d like to share one of my professors from the Latino Studies program that has challenged me to think critically about the way I view Latinx representation not only in media and literature but also my past education and narratives I’ve consumed. In my sophomore fall semester, I took “Introduction to Latino/a/x Studies” with the amazing Dr. Keishla Rivera-Lopez, a lecturer in the Effron Center for the Study of America. The course explored themes such as identity, culture, belonging and Latinidad. She has taught me countless lessons through her courses and with each one, my intellectual curiosity has grown. I invited Professor Rivera-Lopez to share more about her experience as a Latina professor at Princeton, how she came up with such interesting/engaging courses and what her main goals are in teaching Latino/a/x Studies courses.

Dr. Rivera-Lopez

My short time at Princeton has been the most impactful and memorable teaching experience for me. It is in these classrooms, through dialogues that I realized my students have a hunger for more, more discussions about the popular culture or media that is supposed to represent us though many times it falls short and disappoints us. Though, sometimes, there are glowing renditions of our culture that give us immense pride. My students want more book and film recommendations that can, hopefully, endeavor to fill the gaps of knowledge they were deprived of in our primary and secondary education systems. They ask if I’ll be teaching more classes to satisfy their intellectual questions, which, in turn, makes me feel very needed and valued at this institution. This idea of more is not a coincidence when it seems like we’re often excluded from the curriculum or in other facets of society, and these moments remind us we’re often offered less. So, it seems my role here has been to provide more to my students, and it reminds me a lot of my experiences as an undergraduate seeking more knowledge and information regarding my homeland and culture to not only be included, but done so in an authentic and positive light. I know what it felt like to not see my history or my communities represented in mandatory literature or history classes throughout my education or that I belonged in those conversations or spaces. I had an immense feeling that learning my history and culture was a personal project, a solo trip I had to take and fulfill for myself. So, I majored in Latino and Caribbean Studies and immersed myself into finding out more.

My students’ introspective natures remind me of myself - this is why I went to graduate school and pursued a career in academia in the first place. As an undergraduate in a “Latino Literature” course, I rediscovered a passion for reading when I was no longer required to reread the same books and narratives that were recycled year after year in my high school education. I was finally not bored in a literature class and felt like I had to make up for years of no exposure. It untapped a desire for more in me - this is why I see myself in my students. This class cultivated a new worldview and way of understanding how and why my family came here - my dad in Brooklyn and my mother in Chicago and later settling in New Jersey within a Puerto Rican and Dominican enclave. I learned these enclaves aren’t a coincidence - they erupt from waves of migrants, like my family, who had to leave their homelands. I reflect on the meaning of education and its accessibility because most of my family hasn’t received a college education. I think about how I represent my own family history in the classroom as a first generation scholar, a Puerto Rican woman from an urban working class city, a Latina in academia and how it has given me a unique approach to teaching. Being a Latina is deeply rooted in my pedagogical approach and scholarship. 

And, within the liminality of representation or course offerings, I hope my classroom is a space for interesting and thought-provoking dialogue, one that offers historical context about migration and labor that help my students better understand Latino communities and activism while also providing nuances about culture and identity that help them better define and construct Latinidad for themselves. I hope my classrooms are a safe space to discuss the current happenings within Latino music, aesthetics, literature, and media so my students feel represented in the classroom and can discuss how iterations of the past inform the present. Or, why, for example, we can, and we do, discuss big cultural icons like Bad Bunny, Karol G, Cardi B, JLo, etc. in productive and meaningful ways.

I believe representation weighs heavily in the way a college experience is shaped and felt, so my job here in front of the classroom isn’t miniscule. I want to underscore the reason I have the role to be in front of the classroom in the first place is because of a dedicated and passionate professor, Dr. Yomaira Figueroa-Vasquez, who became my mentor and invested in me while I was an undergrad. Mentorship is critical to the retention and success of working-class, underrepresented, and first-gen students. She also taught me an invaluable lesson outside of the classroom - my history and experiences matter and, I too, belong in institutions, like academia, even though they don’t necessarily always make space for our stories, contributions, or us. Furthermore, I’m proud to be here and be able to do this work. This rhetoric pushed me through many moments of doubt, imposter syndrome, and hardship in graduate school, and now, as I navigate academia.

I am so lucky to be in conversation with and teach students because I learn so much from them. Their kind words and honest feedback make me feel truly valued and appreciated as a Latina at an ivy league institution. Though it is an enormous task, I endeavor to impact my students through in-class instruction, mentorship and dialogue that emulates the way my mentor helped and shaped me. Ultimately, my students inspire and motivate me to keep developing courses and different projects to maintain their engagement and interests. I am thankful for their contributions to class discussions, intentional reading, and their feedback that lets me know what my classes mean to them. I hope I can fulfill their need(s) for more in their quest to obtain and understand Latino Studies discourses of culture, literature, and histories.

For the spring semester of my junior year, I studied abroad at Hertford College, Oxford University (blog post to come). While this was a welcome change of environment and pace, I did find myself missing various aspects of Princeton, especially when faced with the prospect that I would only have one year left in the orange bubble when I returned. In the hopes that you take advantage of all the wonderful things Princeton has to offer before you become a senior, here are some of the things I missed the most about Princeton while abroad.

1. Coffee Club
   • As someone who loves (or needs, rather) coffee and frequents Coffee Club at least once every other day, if not more, I missed my vanilla matchas and the anticipation  of a new array of drinks with the change of seasons. Admittedly, good coffee shops exist all over the world, but Coffee Club stands out to me in the way that it features students in the managerial and customer service aspect, but also in the live performances by student artists. 
2. Classes/Lectures
   • This is something that is pretty specific to Oxford, which is that visiting students have optional lectures and instead spend most of their week writing a 2,000 word essay (if you’re a humanities student) that you discuss in an one hour “tutorial” every week. Though I really appreciated the flexibility that this presented, I also missed the hustle and bustle of Princeton during hours of the day when people have class. Tutorials for visiting students were also offered one-on-one which definitely allowed me to challenge my learning for the week, but I missed bouncing my ideas off of my peers. 
3. Murray Dodge Cookies
   • The students who work at Murray Dodge bake cookies and have them available as snacks all throughout the day, which is an experience pretty unique to Princeton and something I thus missed a lot. There is nothing quite like walking back from the library and making a quick pit stop at Murray Dodge for a late night snack. 

Ultimately, I enjoyed my semester abroad very much. I felt very supported by Princeton but also by the program I was a part of, and made great friends and pushed myself out of my comfort zone in ways that I had not imagined I would. I felt challenged academically and feel more prepared than ever to write my senior thesis. However, coming back to Princeton has reminded me of all the little things that make Princeton feel like home. I hope you make the most of your time here, I know I will.

In April of 2021, shortly after being admitted, I visited campus with my parents for the first time. After grabbing a quick breakfast on Nassau Street, we walked towards campus, warm coffee in hand as I tried to take it all in—I think my parents fell in love with campus before I had a chance to fully process where I was.

We spent the morning wandering around aimlessly, first passing through FitzRandolph Gate and walking by Nassau Hall, then towards Blair Arch and down to the rest of campus. Eventually, we made it to Prospect Gardens, where the beginning of spring had left behind the sweet smell of blossoming flowers and bright colors everywhere.

I remember my mom turning to me and saying, “Odette, I can just picture you reading a book on that bench over there.” (With the knowledge I have now, I can confirm it is a very comfortable bench. I read several excerpts of Alexis de Tocqueville’s Democracy in America on that bench, but I’m getting ahead of myself here.)

Everywhere we walked, we passed by students talking about the relief of completing their senior theses. I didn’t know it at the time, but we were visiting shortly after many departments had already required submissions of the senior thesis for their students. It was intimidating to think about, but I was also fascinated by how excited they all sounded about their work. When we ate lunch later that day at Proof Pizza, we sat next to a group of students who very quickly transitioned from discussing their weekend plans to debating a topic from their math class.

Back on campus, we started to realize many of the trees were labeled with their scientific names.

“What a nerdy thing to do,” I joked with my parents.

For some reason, this particular anecdote stuck with me the most when I returned home. When my friends and family asked about how my visit had been, I could only reply with “they label their trees up there.” Entering my third year, the labeled trees scattered across campus are still one of my favorite things about Princeton, and although it was something that was merely kind of strange and amusing back then, I think it’s a testament to what Princeton stands for.

Maybe this goes without saying, but knowledge is everywhere, and I mean everywhere on campus.

If you asked me now what it’s like to go to Princeton, I think I’d start with the same response. No mundane fact is too insignificant, no question unworthy of being asked. It is inspiring to be surrounded by thousands of students who are as passionate about learning as I am. I could not count the number of thought-provoking conversations I’ve had over Wawa mac and cheese, or the number of times I’ve left a class absolutely in awe of my classmates.

Curiosity and the quest for knowledge are central to all that Princeton is, and if this sounds like the sort of environment you’d love, then I’d say you’re already halfway home.

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The start of the fall semester means returning to campus after a summer away, and with this move comes a change in your daily and weekly routines. While this change can be a little disorienting as you adjust, there are certain to be joys unique to Princeton and campus life to which you'll be glad to return. Here are six of my own small pleasures of the Orange Bubble.

1. Seeing My Professors in Town

Princeton is a lovely town, and many professors live nearby. It's very common to see your professors out and going about their daily lives. Sometimes I'll see Professor Bourg out on a run or say hello to Professor Myneni while he gets a coffee at Small World after biking to work. Seeing my professors in a more informal context reminds me that they, too, are human. 

2. Getting the Newspaper in Palmer Square

Growing up, my family always received the daily and weekend New York Times. Some of my favorite memories of home include fetching the plastic-wrapped newspaper roll each morning from the driveway and lingering at the table after dinner on Sunday to read my favorite sections. Physical newspaper is still my favorite way to stay informed, and I love stopping by the newsstand in Palmer Square, a shopping center across from Nassau Hall, to pick up the daily paper several times a week.

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3. Classes in a Castle

Princeton's Gothic architecture still awes me every day, even as a senior. Most of my classes are in the E-Quad, a more modern building on campus, but my humanities courses are usually held in one of the older buildings towards central campus. Dillon Gym is also located in a Gothic building, so I not only learn, but sweat, in a castle.

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4. Shopping at Whole Earth Center

I'm an "independent" who cooks for herself, and Whole Earth Center is my go-to grocery store. This hippie-populated health store has a wonderful selection of fresh fruit, vegetables, baked goods, and other surprising finds (cashew cheese crackers, anyone?) that make my day. Getting my weekly groceries here is always a real treat.

5. Runs and Walks on the Towpath

By the canal "down campus" runs D&R Canal State Park, a long gravel trail by the water perfect for running or weekend strolls. In fall, the leaves change colors and create a gorgeous tableau for my run. Zipping down the towpath is one of my favorite ways to unwind daily, and on weekends Kelvin and I will often go for walks to take in the scenery.

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6. The Daily Princetonian on Fridays

Recalling my aforementioned love of physical newspaper, I look forward to picking up my printed copy of the Daily Princetonian each Friday. The Prince publishes online daily, but the Friday print edition is really when I catch up with the latest campus happenings. 

While there are any number of elements of Princeton life I could have shared, these are some of the ones most special to me and my lifestyle here. Ask any Princeton student for six small pleasures of Princeton life, and you're certain to receive a unique answer each time. Discovering what makes your time here meaningful is one of the best parts of moving off to college and living on your own.

It was the best of times … it was the worst of times… it was Colombia. This summer I spent two months in Bogota, Colombia for my International Internship Program (IIP) with Sisma Mujer. Colombia caught me by surprise because I fell in love with the country instantly. The fast-paced motorcycles but the steady working environment, the cold air but the beaming sun. There were numerous reasons for me to fall in love but I can’t seem to settle on one. Every day felt like a new adventure, whether it be navigating the wobbly sidewalks or taking day trips to cities like Guatavita, Villa de Leyva and Fosca. The days seemed to fly by until I noticed I only had a few days left before I would have to say goodbye. For that reason, I’d like to do a bit of a highlight reel, sharing some of my favorite moments in Colombia. 

Guatavita 

Joining me in Bogota were six other Princeton students with different IIP’s. From Politics majors to Architecture and MAE (Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering), we were all there for different reasons. During our time in Colombia, we were connected with a provider service called Intern Colombia and we were able to take several trips to surrounding cities. Guatavita was our first trip as a group and it had a six a.m. call time. All of us were sleeping on the ride over but the hike up made everyone’s energy pick up. We ended the day with a quick boat ride, one of us even got to steer the wheel! 

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Villa de Levya

Jugo de mango is arguably one of the best drinks I’ve had. If a restaurant or coffee shop had it, I would order it instantly. Villa de Levya was memorable for many reasons but it was also my first time going horseback riding. I think I was the most intimidated out of the group, mainly because my horse decided to go rogue but I would do it again in a heartbeat. 

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Fosca

The waterfalls at Fosca truly humbled me. They were breathtaking but also the path to get to them was filled with countless slips. By the time I got to the first waterfall, my leggings were stained with mud, my shoes completely destroyed and I was tired of slipping on nothing. My clumsiness decided to star front and center that day but I didn’t allow it to affect my hike up. I was notably exhausted but the views made everything worth it and the people I walked with also made it that much better. 

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Cali

Our first solo trip without Intern Colombia consisted of an hour-long plane ride to the beautiful city of Cali, Colombia. We visited the Cali Zoo alongside a rocky river and tasted some of the most interesting flavors of ice cream like yogurt with oregano and chicharron. Cali was such a unique city, it was a totally different vibe from Bogota and not just because of the heat but also its calm charm. 

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In the end, the worst of times wasn’t the few mishaps we had along the way but having to say goodbye to a place I called home for two months. I’m so grateful for having this opportunity thanks to the Office of International Programs (OIP) and I'm ready to add more memories like these to my time at Princeton (stay tuned for Denmark 2024!).

As a humanities/social sciences student, readings dominate my life at Princeton. It’s why in my first semester, I left large gaps in between my classes. This way, I could spread my assignments throughout the day, and spend time with my friends at night.

I also mostly worked alone in my first semester. I thought doing homework with my friends would be too distracting. I love to join in on conversations, but sometimes we’d get so deep in discussion that my plans to read that next page, write that next paragraph, outline that next paper went out the window. Additionally, I was surrounded by STEM students in my Zee Group. They were not interested in, nor did they ask about, my readings, and likewise, I was not interested in, nor did I ask about, their problem sets. Yet the more I worked alone last September, the more I missed having somebody to parallel play with while still socializing.

Enter the McGraw Center for Teaching and Learning. Beyond the peer tutoring sessions, academic strategies workshops, and learning consultations, there is also the fairly new Study Partners Program. You first fill out an interest form, after which McGraw matches you with your study partner via email. From there, you and your study partner exchange contact information and decide where/when you want to study.

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All of the selections are random, which I appreciated when I was a freshman. While it is important to befriend students in your home residential college, often by way of your zee group, it’s equally important to branch out and meet students in other residential colleges. Who knows? They could have the same academic interests as you! 

I lucked out with my study partner, who I now consider one of my closest friends at Princeton. He lives up north at Rockefeller “Rocky” College, and I down south at Forbes College. But despite being on opposite ends of campus, he, too, loves the humanities and social sciences. During our study sessions at Firestone Library, he would annotate his Politics readings and I would annotate my Philosophy readings. We also took turns discussing what we were learning. It’s not unusual for us, even now, to exchange book recommendations from our classes (with dashes of us sharing our extracurricular activities).

Having a study partner has also not been as distracting as I previously thought. We hold each other accountable by setting personal goals, as well as offering help to each other. For instance, he helped me brainstorm for my papers when I took my writing seminar last spring, and I offered encouraging words while he studied for finals. It’s because of this reciprocity that more often than not, we achieved our goals. 

Don’t get me wrong. Some students work better alone—I do if I’m under a major deadline—but regardless, I highly recommend the McGraw Study Partners Program to all incoming students. Not only will you be building yourself a support system and finding someone to parallel play with, but you might also make a friend in the process.

It’s hard to believe that I will officially be a “sophomore” in a few weeks. It feels like yesterday that I moved into Forbes College, and sat through day long orientation programming. Now that I’m somewhat settled into my new home – that is, the Second Floor of the Forbes Annex – I want to share with you the three most important lessons I learned freshman year. Who knows? Maybe they can help you become your authentic self at Princeton.

1. Don't forget to laugh!

While it’s very easy to make me laugh, I sometimes feel so stressed from school that I forget to. So rather than seek out instances that make me laugh, I let them come to me.

For instance, I went to Princetoween (our post Fall break Halloween celebration) with one of my friends. While at Colonial Eating Club, I ran into a Forbesian dressed like a teenage Michael Jackson. I asked him where his five brothers were. At first, he was confused. But once he understood what I was talking about, he agreed he looked like Michael Jackson with his afro and tall, slender appearance. Back at Forbes, I cried laughing while telling the story to my Zee Group. As the saying goes, “laughter is the best medicine.” Yes, even in an environment where students seem to be working nonstop.

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2. Your special interests are valued.

I have several special interests including Sesame Street (among other children's cartoons), writing, and most recently my new major: Cultural Anthropology. I could go on for days! But from elementary to middle school, it wasn’t unusual for my interests to be dismissed as, well, unusual.

Now, I am incredibly grateful to have friends who share my special interests, if not have their own. Some powerlift. Others love Procreate. Some fight to divest Princeton. Others passionately believe Oppenheimer is better than Barbie. I firmly believe that by sharing my interests with my friends (and vice versa), I have learned so much more about their life experiences. 

3. The people here keep you going.

Coming into Princeton, I envisioned it would be a cutthroat environment where nobody wanted to help each other. This assumption couldn’t have been more wrong. My friends keep me going even on my toughest days. Examples include texting me to ask about my day and offering to read my papers. Mind you, these relationships are not one sided. I do the same for them because I care about them. 

These friendships have also made it easier for us to be vulnerable about our life experiences. Our conversations occasionally include crying and hugging. But no matter what we discuss, we always reaffirm to each other that we belong here. Princeton is a major life change academically, emotionally, and socially. So please make it a point to make friends who always push you to be your authentic self.

My name is Mirabella Smith, and I am a member of Princeton’s Class of 2024. I came to Princeton knowing that I was queer, but not yet knowing exactly what that meant to me. I thought that I did–identity, though, I came to learn, is not something which is static. Identity is a process of discovery and of becoming.

I entered this institution in Fall of 2020. Necessary regulations to control the spread of COVID-19 meant that all students attended classes over Zoom during the fall semester, and had the option to come to campus (still taking classes virtually) during the spring. For financial reasons, I chose to stay home the whole year. As you would probably expect, the experience was isolating. Transitioning to the rigor of a place like Princeton more or less alone (at least in my physical space) took a toll on me that I won’t soon forget. Still, I’ll always remember that fall semester fondly as the time I found my people, and along with them, my passion.

Perhaps the best decision I have made thus far in life was to take a freshman seminar entitled “The Bad Old Days? LGBTQ+ Literature Before Stonewall.” It was there that I met people who I now consider to be my family. Before the first day of classes, we decided to make a group chat, and within an hour, it was buzzing with activity. I think that we all felt nervous about coming to Princeton; nervous about being so alone, so isolated, as we launched ourselves into not just the unfamiliar world of college, but the unfamiliar world of being queer in college. Many of us were queer, after all, and took the class because we were interested in learning more about the history of our community. We connected fast. Those people and the group chat we shared were an anchor for me in my transition to Princeton’s world, made all the more complicated by the fact that I wasn’t actually at Princeton. 

That wasn’t the only class where I was exposed to new facets of my identity. Another class, “Crafting Freedom: Women and Liberation” quickly introduced me to Audre Lorde’s collection of essays Sister Outsider–it was one of my first college readings and remains my favorite book to this day. Audre Lorde was my first foray into the world of Black Feminist thought. I honestly don’t think that I knew what feminism (actually) is until I came to Princeton. It is inherently intersectional, centered around community, communication, and bridging the gaps that exist between us. It’s about acknowledging those gaps, and listening to each other in such a way that we connect not in spite of them, but through them. We are more powerful when we speak than when we are silent, and, as Lorde wrote, “There are no new ideas. There are only new ways of making them felt” (Lorde, Poetry is Not a Luxury).

In that class, we read Angela Davis, Cherie Moraga, and Gloria Anzaldúa. We read the works of abolitionists, transwomen and coalition builders, and I fell in love with the world of queer theory. In retrospect, it’s easy to say that with each course I took towards the Gender and Sexuality Studies certificate, I was developing as a student and a human. A major tipping point for me came when I read Judith Butler’s essay “Performative Acts and Gender Constitution,” which helped me come to the realization that I am nonbinary. Butler’s words clicked something together inside my head, and the realization came on quickly. That facet of my identity suddenly just made more sense. 

This is one of the reasons I am a firm believer in the inextricable connection between theory and praxis: they come hand in hand, and theory, when it is made accessible, has incredible power to promote understanding and create change. That is one of the major tenets that I live my life by today. Accessibility is understanding, and understanding can be revolutionary.

Princeton is a space that has its fair share of institutional issues, something which I am quick to speak to. Still, it’s here that I’ve found my queer family. You’ll find that queer people at Princeton find ways to make space for themselves, and it’s in those enclaves where I’ve found my place and have grown as a human being. I don’t know who I would be without those people, who make both this place and myself better every day.

Princeton Students for Prison Education, Abolition, and Reform (SPEAR) is a student group focused on educating and advocating against the carceral state of the United States. SPEAR consists of a variety of committees, including Students Against Policing, the Re-Entry Committee, and Project Solidarity. Over time, I had become very passionate about the intersections between the criminal justice and immigration systems, and was excited to learn about, and join, SPEAR’s Immigration Committee.

The Immigration Committee works closely with other organizations in central New Jersey fighting for justice for local immigrant communities. In the past, the Committee has welcomed representatives from these organizations to speak about state-wide initiatives. For example, in the Fall of 2022, we hosted various organizers to raise awareness about the New Jersey Domestic Workers Bill of Rights. SPEAR also partners often with Unidad Latina en Acción (ULA), a non-profit organization just off campus on Witherspoon Street. With ULA, Princeton students teach English as a Second Language (ESL) classes every Tuesday and Saturday, welcoming local residents to join, no matter their current English proficiency.

One of the highlights of my sophomore year was getting the opportunity to organize a panel specifically on the criminalization of immigration, or “crimmigration” as it is often called in the literature. This is the idea that, over time, immigrants in the United States have been increasingly criminalized, both in the media, but also in immigration proceedings. In the fall, I took a class called The Politics of Crime and Punishment, where my final paper had focused on this shift in immigration law and the consequences that it has had on migrant communities particularly through the lens of procedural justice. At the time of this panel, I was also taking another course with Dr. Amelia Frank-Vitale on borders. Particularly, the class explored how borders are not only geographic, but can also be reproduced by systems within a country–in this case policing.

Through our panel, we wanted to raise awareness within the student body by inviting Princeton professors to speak on the topic, as many people often don’t know about this intertwinement of criminal and immigration laws. However, we also knew gaps in knowledge can arise from looking at these sorts of issues through a purely academic lens. Therefore, over the course of two months, we set out to bring together a group of diverse perspectives and organizers, both as academics and as activists. In the end, we welcomed three Princeton professors and three representatives from local organizations, although it’s important to note that all of the professors on our panel also considered themselves to be activists. A few days before the event, we designed our flyer to circulate across campus. As I would be moderating this event, I prepared our list of questions, which ranged from asking our panelists to define “crimmigration,” as well as elaborate on what this looks like within their work, and how it affects the ways in which they carry out ethical research and activism.

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Perhaps one of the reasons this panel had such a big impact on me, besides the obvious ability to share something that I care deeply about with fellow classmates, was the fact that it enabled me to see a tangible connection between the things I have learned and studied during my time at Princeton, and the sort of work that can be done, especially with the help of Princeton’s resources. I believe the ability to take the lead on these sorts of initiatives–whether it be organizing panel discussions, proposing a new volunteering experience or club, or receiving funding to engage in social impact activities–is something that is uniquely possible for Princeton students, and something I look forward to replicating in the future.

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When I first heard about Princeton reunions, I didn’t doubt for a second that I would stay the extra two weeks after finals to experience them myself. The roaring tigers’ returning glory, the flamboyant orange and black costumes, the night dances, the tiger paws and patterns everywhere you look, and the burning spirit, all sounded too good to miss. So I applied to the easiest campus job I could find— dining services. Little did I know that working as a waiter would turn out to be one of my most memorable Princeton experiences. 

Every year, on the second day of reunions, there’s a very special event: the Old Guard Luncheon. It’s a meal that brings together all the Princeton alumni returning for their 65th or more reunion. Some of them were here before the photocopier or Velcro even existed! Others were even here before World War 2. The point is, these guys are old and wise, and a lot has happened since they were flocking around the eating clubs, panicking over midterms, or avoiding FitsRandolph Gates’ middle entry (which you must not walk through as a student or else you will not graduate— confirmed by the frights of many generations of Princetonians). Serving this lunch, and seeing 90-year-olds in fluorescent orange suits and tiger-striped ties, showed me the timelessness of Princeton. 40, 65, or 80 years down the road I’ll be on the other side— sitting where they are, reminiscing on my time here. 

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I especially enjoyed my brief but meaningful interaction with Joe Schein. During reunions’s P-Rade— the flamboyant and orange-struck alumni parade— Joe carries the leading baton for being the oldest living Princeton alum. He is 108 years old, and a member of the Great Class of 1937. I am a member of the Class of 2025: basically, a whole century after. Talking to Joe, and seeing him and all the Old Guard alumni come back to Old Nassau decades after their time here to cherish their memories, re-live experiences, and reunite with old friends, made me see what people talk about when they say that Princeton is for a lifetime.

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In the 1879 Hall archway on campus, there’s a plaque I really like. Its inscription says, “Princeton is a part of you. You are a part of Princeton.” Working this luncheon made me see Princeton with new eyes, and the plaque took on new meaning— your time at Princeton lives in you until the end of your Old Guard days, and after being here, you join a community of Princetonians whose legacy transcends generations. 

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