The other day, I was writing my Spanish homework in my room when my roommate, Jose, who was taking a nap, woke up suddenly. He then looked at the screen of his phone and quickly got up from his bed, letting out a sigh that denoted his distress:

Late meal is almost over, he said nervously as he rushed out of the room.

Confused, I stared at him from over my computer. I never understood his obsession with late meal. Late meal is a term used to describe an option offered by Campus Dining to students enrolled in the meal plan. Essentially, each student has access to two $8 credits: one for late lunch and another for late dinner. Technically, it’s meant for students who miss regular dining hours in the cafeterias because of classes or meetings. Late meal prevents them from starving. However, the way my roommate religiously got late meal seemed unusual (or so I thought) and left me deeply puzzled. For some context, Frist (where late meal is served) is located around 12 minutes away from Forbes (our Res College). Yet, he would sometimes purposely skip dining hall meals to go to Frist, braving the cold winter night. Worse: sometimes he would first eat at Forbes, and later, go for doubles at late meal! Seriously, why so much dedication? That day, I decided to elucidate that mystery and ask him point-blank what was up with him after he had gotten his meal.

Jose came back one hour later. I didn't even let him unwrap his chicken quesadilla and fries: I instantly bombarded him with the question that had been tormenting me to the point that I had been unable to focus on my assignment.

Why do you go through so much trouble for late meal? I asked.

He stared back at me, deeply offended by my question. "How dare you?" his face flushed with indignation. He asked as though he was too obfuscated to even utter a word.  My question seemed to have troubled him to his core. It was 50 degrees inside yet he was sweating profusely. He stared at me a little longer, trying to figure out if I was serious and whether I deserved an answer. He took off his coat while I stood still, waiting impatiently for his answer. Finally, he enlightened me on the foundation of his obsession.

That night, he unraveled the mystery of his love for late meal. At that time, everything seemed to come together. It all made sense. 

Jose first confided in me that he was often not hungry during the usual opening hours of the cafeterias so he preferred to wait until late meal, when he was sure he would be starving. Additionally, the consistency of Frist's menu assured him he would like what he ordered. He also had more choices. Whether he got a quesadilla, a burger, sushi, chicken tenders, fries or onion rings… he knew he would never be disappointed. He would sometimes be pleasantly surprised with a new addition to the menu: spring rolls, dumplings or pizza. Some days, when he just wanted to snack or grab something to take home for the night to help him push through his intense two o'clock reading sessions, he would only grab a bag of chips, chocolate chip cookies and a muffin. If that day he felt like eating healthily, he would grab a box of green grapes and one fresh banana. As long as the total was under 8 dollars: he could have them all. For free! Finally, and perhaps the main reason for his obsession, was that late meal was a unique opportunity to socialize.  Frist is already the center of student life at Princeton.  On a normal day, you find student groups promoting their dance shows, aspiring engineers working on P-sets together, Philosophy majors conversing about the meaning of life or Econ majors playing table tennis or billiards... etc. Add food to the combo and you have the exciting, vibrant and engaging environment of late meal. For Jose, late meal is one of the best things about Princeton!

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After that conversation, I never again saw late meal the same way. My life truly changed. Forever. And my eating schedule as well!

The best three hours of my week, each week, are spent in a dark, poorly-ventilated basement in Bloomberg Hall, in a room with old garage-sale couches and a leather chair that plasters the seat of your pants with leather strips that have peeled off the seat.

Of course, there’s also a fourteen-channel control board and a collection of six thousand vinyl records, countless CDs, and a healthy mix of cassette tapes thrown in. I’m talking about the three hours each week I spend doing a show for WPRB, Princeton’s very own community-supported, independent radio. On Tuesdays from 8-11 p.m., I spin three hours of (depending on who you ask) the best or the worst sounds ever to grace the airwaves of New Jersey and Philadelphia: noise rock, coldwave, spoken word poetry, ambient, dance-punk, drone, industrial techno, grindcore and more. It’s a happy little piece of time I’ve carved out for myself each week, totally devoid of anything academic.

The station, which we refer to as “New Jersey’s Only,” is independent of the university itself, instead supporting itself via membership drives with monthly and recurring donations. I joined in the fall of my sophomore year, after training to be a DJ the preceding spring, and WPRB quickly subsumed my other extracurriculars to be the one that (enjoyably) took up most of my time. Listening to music has always been a big part of my life, but my involvement with the station took it to another level. Being responsible for three hours of interesting radio each week means I need to find three hours of music I’m excited about, every week, to share with listeners on air.

WPRB’s broadcast radius reaches into the heart of Philadelphia, giving the students at Princeton who are DJs (who only make up a little more than half of PRB’s programming) a unique opportunity to break out of the orange bubble and interact with folks other than the usual assortment of students, professors and staff we see every day on campus. When I go to concerts in WPRB attire, or otherwise leave the campus community, it’s not uncommon for listeners to recognize our logo and ask me about the station.

The best extracurriculars are ones that give you a sense of community and fulfilled-ness outside of your academic life. For me, WPRB has been important in both regards. Some very close friends are radio friends, and I rarely feel like the work I do for the station is tiresome or stressful — even when it can be a time commitment. Plus, we have some of the best merch on campus … which is always a perk.

On a recent Friday, as I was walking back from Cannon Green with my friend Kelvin, I was approached by a curious graduate student. "Do you know what's going on over there?" he asked, referencing the festivities on Cannon Green.

"It's Declaration Day," I replied. "The Class of '24 announced their majors, so they're taking photos in their class sweaters in front of the banners for their majors."

"Wow," he said. "That's so extra."

I laughed and chatted a bit more with him before walking away. It occurred to me that the Princeton Declaration Day tradition is peculiar and maybe a little "extra," but it was enjoyable nonetheless. In the spring of their sophomore year, students receive a black knit sweater with their class year in knitted orange block letters. On "Declaration Day," after all students have declared their concentrations, students gather on Cannon Green behind Nassau Hall to pose for photographs in front of the banner of their department. Engineering (B.S.E) students declare their concentrations midway through their second semester, but Declaration Day occurs after arts and sciences (A.B) students declare, which is midway through their third semester. 

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I applied to Princeton as a Civil and Environmental Engineering major, and CEE indeed ended up being the department I'm concentrating in. After taking several classes and conducting research in the department, I knew that tackling environmental engineering problems is what I'm most passionate and excited about. My experience is by no means common, though, as many students decide to concentrate in an area other than what they anticipated when they applied. The first semester and a half (for B.S.E students) or three and a half semesters (for A.B students) gives you a chance to try out classes in several departments and see what piques your interest. A friend of mine who anticipated majoring in CEE discovered she really enjoyed coding and decided to be a Computer Science major, for instance, while another friend took classes in both the Physics and CEE departments during his first several semesters to get a feel for both.

Even after you declare, though, it's somewhat surprising how many choices you have in your schedule to select classes outside of your department. I generally have about two to three required classes for my major per semester, and then I can choose two to three others to fill my humanities and social sciences requirements or work towards certificates (minors). Next semester, for instance, I'm planning to take a French conversation course (which will fulfill a social sciences requirement) and take an environmental chemistry course (which will count towards my Sustainable Energy certificate). So while I really like being a part of the CEE department and taking CEE classes (which are generally my favorite courses), it's nice that I still get to experience other departments during my time at Princeton.

"Dec Day" might have been a little extra, but it was a lovely moment where we could imagine what we'll do in the future with our CEE knowledge and training.

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I thought I would share what a day in my life looks like when I have a packed schedule of extracurriculars, socializing and schoolwork! 

7:45 a.m.

I don’t normally wake up this early, but I have a lot of morning classes this semester so I take the time to get breakfast and study for my Japanese quiz!

8:30 a.m.

My first class of the day is “Introduction  to Digital Humanities,” which is the class I am taking for my Quantitative and Computational Reasoning distribution requirement, even though it’s an English class! We’re learning about the intersection of digital media and the humanities, and I love how I am able to take a wide range of non-conventional classes to fulfill my distribution requirements.

10:00 a.m.

My second class is Japanese, of which I am in my second year. Starting a new language at Princeton is undoubtedly a challenge, as classes meet every day, but each class is structured around time for grammar, speaking, and writing practice, which makes all the hours you have to put in worth it. 

11:00 a.m.

I then head over to do work in the eating club I’m a member of, where I am supposed to meet a friend for lunch and study together after. As a sophomore, we get two meals per week at our eating club, which is a great way to integrate ourselves into a community we will soon be fully immersed in next semester. Each eating club at Princeton has its own library, so I just did readings for my seminar later today there. 

1:30 p.m.

I had my final class of the day, “Everyday Life in Mao’s China.” This is my favorite class this semester, where we are taking a ground-level view of how the lives of everyday people were impacted by the various changes during the Mao era. Seminars at Princeton are usually three hours long with around fifteen people, though mine is capped at nineteen because so many people were interested in taking it. 

4:30 p.m.

I went to Coffee Club, a student run cafe located in Campus Club to grab coffee with a friend and work on my Japanese homework. Coffee Club has new seasonal drinks every month or so, so I got to try their lavender latte (last month they had raspberry matcha as a specialty). 

6:00 p.m.

Dinner time! I went to dinner at my eating club, where every Thursday night is a member’s night. I got to sit with my friends and catch up on what they did over spring break while also meeting seniors in the club I had never met before. 

9:00 p.m.

My a cappella group was performing at a show for Princeton’s East Asian dance company, Triple 8, so we met near the dressing room at the theater to rehearse beforehand. 

10:00 p.m.

After my performance, I went back to Firestone Library, my favorite library, to do work. I normally leave the library around midnight and go straight to sleep. 

College life is inherently social: you attend classes and precepts with your friends, meet with study groups to solve problem sets, and see others daily in the dining halls and dorms. It's easy, though, to become consumed with your studies and forget to make time to simply enjoy recreational time with your friends. This is one reason that the Undergraduate Student Government (USG) organizes social events designed to encourage students to gather and take breaks from their coursework. My favorite event so far has been one organized specifically for my class, the Class of 2024.

Most members of my class year graduated high school in 2020, when proms and graduation ceremonies were canceled due to the beginning of the pandemic. Given the hardships that frontline workers were experiencing during those early pandemic months, I didn't consider a canceled prom to be a major tragedy. I was still, though, fairly disappointed to miss the opportunity to dress up in order to gather and dance for an evening. So when the 2024 class officers announced that they'd be holding a "redemption prom" for our class, I became excited to think that I'd have the chance after all.

Not so fast, however. The event was originally scheduled for December, but an uptick in Covid cases meant that it had to be postponed. But when a new date in March was announced, I had my fingers crossed that the third time would be the charm. Fortunately the event was able to be held as scheduled on the March date! It was held in Prospect House, a beautiful 19th-century home overlooking Prospect Garden. The event started at 9 p.m., but I got ready in the early evening in order to take photographs with my friends before the sun set. We met in scenic Firestone plaza, and my date surprised me with roses and a corsage!

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The theme of the event was Secret Garden, and Prospect House was decorated accordingly with gnomes and mushrooms. People mingled about and munched on hors d'oeuvres for the first hour, and then they began to migrate to the dance floor. I was nervous that other people would be too self-conscious to dance, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that nearly everyone joined in.

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The event occured during a busy time around mid-semester, so it provided a much-needed study break to let off some steam in between problem sets, exams and papers. It was a lovely evening of laughter and dancing with my friends, and I'm so grateful to have (finally) had the chance.

By the time I submitted my final college application, I was exhausted. I was excited about  college (and excited about Princeton, once I was admitted and later enrolled), but the thought of  another four years of physics equations and research papers made me apprehensive. I started spending a lot of time on the Novogratz Bridge Year website, looking at photos of smiling participants and reading about a year of trekking and service and living abroad.  

When deciding whether or not I wanted to apply to Princeton’s Novogratz Bridge Year program, one of my major hang-ups was about my high school friends. I adored them, and they were all about to go to college — to choose a major, attend dorm parties and bond with roommates— and I wasn’t sure if I could do something so different from them. It would mean that I graduated a year later from them and that I wouldn’t be able to come home for breaks. At some level, it meant that I wouldn’t be able to relate to them and they wouldn’t be able to relate to me.  

I was so worried about this that I almost didn’t apply to the program in Senegal. When I did, and I was accepted, my excitement was tempered slightly by these fears. I spent the summer before I left buying a bug hut, googling Senegalese music, and trying not to feel left out as my friends picked out their classes. I don’t know if my 18-year-old self would be surprised by this or not, but those fears pretty much all came true. I kept missing the group FaceTimes because I was in a different time zone; I cried when I saw photos of all my friends together at Thanksgiving; I had a hard time connecting with them when I came home the following summer.  

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I don’t mean to say that I lost my high school friends — I am still incredibly close with many of  them, and I love now being able to trade stories about our professors and our college friends. In  some ways, my friendships with them are stronger than they ever were. Maybe if I hadn’t gone away, we wouldn’t be friends at all now. But choosing to take a gap year separated me from them  in ways that I still haven’t fully moved past. This separation very likely might have happened  anyway, as we all went to different schools and studied different things. But it felt unique to me,  as perhaps it does to everyone. At the very least, I was the first one to separate, and I didn’t get to  ease into it over the course of the semester or the year. Once I left, I was gone.  

Despite this loss — and it does still feel in many ways like a loss, as grateful as I am for my  continued friendships — I wouldn’t change my decision for the world. Before I left for Senegal I was so focused on what I stood to lose that I had a hard time picturing what I had to gain. That makes sense: what you might lose is real and tangible, while what you might gain is abstract and largely unknown. It wasn’t until I was there that I realized that the choice I had made was worth it.

Now, I wouldn’t trade any of it: picking up my little homestay brother from school, or making  pancakes on top of a mountain for my friend’s birthday, or running along the beach and through  the waves, or drinking cold bissap after finishing some hot ceebujen, or reading in the backseat of long and dusty bus rides, or carving watermelons for Halloween with my homestay family, or  eating beignets and oranges on the side of the road with my friends, or hiking past baobab trees, or returning to hold my godchildren for the first time. I wouldn’t trade a single one of those things.  

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I spent that year living a life very different than the one I had grown used to. I worked at an  organization called Empire des Enfants, a shelter for boys who had been living and begging on  the streets, and learned how I could live a life of service even when I wasn’t “doing service.” I  spent my days taking the bus to work and then coming home for lunch before heading off to  language class. On the weekends, I swam to beautiful islands with my group and watched tv with  my little brothers. Slowly, I was able to make new friends and form new communities. They  looked different than the ones I had before, but I began to feel at home in a new place. I promise  you, what you have to gain is wonderful.

During the winter break of my first year (Winter 2021), I stayed on campus. Break gave me the time I needed to listen to my own needs and goals instead of getting caught up in the busy-ness of the semester. Most importantly, it gave me the space to be more intentional about self-care. I slept in more often, hung out with other on-campus friends regularly, started a new TV series and got back into crocheting.   

In addition to participating in a few Wintersession workshops–one on knitting, one on embroidery and one session called "Founding Your Deep Tech Startup"–I also was fortunate enough to attend the first Black Women Wellness Retreat hosted by the Our Health Matters (OHM) Club. The OHM is a club focused on the health and wellbeing of Black women on campus. In a world that expects Black women to be endlessly “strong,” this all expenses paid retreat gave me the room to be honest about how I was honestly doing and what I needed:

After tasty breakfast pastries provided by The Gingered Peach, a local Black woman-owned business, we took a chartered bus to Skytop Lodge, located in the Poconos Mountains. The Lodge itself was stunning, it had rich, velvety carpets, tall windows with lots of natural sunlight and really unique furniture. The room I stayed in had ample space, as well as its own walk-in closet, full bathroom and outdoor patio. During the retreat, our time was spent doing everything from playing ping pong to making vision boards, to talking about our experiences with dating on campus.

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I do not share any of this to brag. As a lower-income student, I’d never stepped foot near a ski lodge before, yet this retreat afforded me that experience as a means to promote my self care. I share this experience with you, because it is important that Black women are seen engaging in self-care, indulging in high-quality experiences and supporting each other.  

At the end of the day, I am reminded of this quote from Audre Lorde, “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.” As a Black person, I must remind myself of this every day. As a woman of color, I must remind myself of this every day. As all of the the things I am–lower-income, first-generation and a Black Muslim woman trying to navigate an elite institution–it is imperative that I strive closer and closer to a future where my self care is no longer negotiable in my schedule but the norm. 

What about you? How has your self-care journey been going? I’d love to know!

One of the first things I promised myself before going to college was that I was going to try new things and step out of my comfort zone. What better time than now to explore all the things I had never had the opportunity to in high school? 

Thus, first-year fall, despite my many reservations about doing so, I tried out for the Princeton Debate Panel. While it was one of the most terrifying things I had ever done, I am grateful to have found some of my closest friends and a tight-knit community that single handedly helped me through my first semester at Princeton. 

I kept (and am keeping) my promise to myself as I entered the second half of my sophomore year. I ended up auditioning for an a cappella group, a decision I made a day before auditions were to take place. My reservations for doing so stemmed from the fact that as much as I enjoyed singing in my free time, I never thought I was good enough to sing in a more structured setting. 

I was saved from making one of the worst mistakes of my Princeton career when one of my friends, after hearing my plight on whether or not I should audition, told me just what I needed to hear. “What’s the worst that could happen? You’re nervous for 15 minutes, maybe embarrass yourself in front of a few people. But the best case scenario? You get ten new friends, and get to do something you enjoy.” The answer then became pretty clear in my head. 

I went, sang in front of a group of people I didn’t know, and left shaking from nerves, but relieved I had gone through with it. That night, I found out that I had been asked back for callbacks, and went to callbacks the day after, where I (still extremely nervous) mingled with members and got to experience what it would be like to sing as part of a group. I left callbacks daydreaming about what it would be like to perform with these amazing collection of singers, and once again, thoroughly glad I had gone. 

Now, I’m a proud member of the Princeton Tigressions, one of the many a cappella groups Princeton has to offer. Each group is unique in their sound, their members and their personalities. The Tigressions are known for a bold sound, and our repertoire ranges from classics such as Moon River and more contemporary arrangements such as When We Were Young. We also go on an international tour during fall break, though a cappella groups on campus mainly sing in one of the many arches on campus. Also unexpectedly, my first performance happened to be at McCarter Theatre in front of a crowd of more than six hundred people. As terrifying as that was, it was one of the most fun (and memorable) moments at Princeton so far. 

So go for it. Try something new. 

I have always been fascinated by languages. I grew up bilingual, speaking Haitian Creole and French. Then, at the age of twelve, I realized that it would be cool to actually understand the songs of Akon which I was a big fan of: that's how I decided to start learning English. Later, in high school (coincidentally around the time Akon had hit pause on his musical career), I decided to move on to new horizons and started studying Spanish, followed by German. I think languages are cool, especially at Princeton.

At Princeton, every A.B. student has to pass the language requirement (i.e. demonstrating proficiency in a language other than English) before they graduate. There are many ways to fulfill this requirement. I, for example, took a French Placement Test the summer before I came to Princeton, which allowed me to place out of the language requirement. That meant I did not have to take any language classes at Princeton. But I still did! Why? Because languages are cool! Rather than starting with a completely new language at Princeton (which I might still do later on), I decided to keep learning Spanish for a while. I took the Placement Test for Spanish a couple of days after the French one and got placed into Spanish 108 (for Advanced Learners). 

I took the class last semester and it was amazing! My instructor was extremely kind, supportive and knowledgeable. My experience in that class was nothing like what I had seen in language classes before. Not only did the course focus on the development of the students' oral and written expression, but it also did so by engaging with interesting and thought-provoking material that explored the cultures, histories and politics of Spanish-speaking communities in the United States as well as the larger Hispanic world. The regular writing and speaking exercises encouraged me to frequently engage with the language beyond a superficial level in order to become comfortable expressing complex ideas in Spanish. All this in an encouraging and low-stress environment. I ended up doing very well in the class thanks to the incredible support I received from my instructor and my peers.

This experience reassured me in my decision to pursue a Certificate in Spanish, so much so that I am taking another Spanish class this semester: Spanish 209. In this course, we learn to analyze films in Spanish, which is a great way to improve my writing and speaking skills. It's also a great excuse to watch TV on the weekend without feeling guilty! I am only a few weeks in and I already love it! In addition to the language courses, Princeton offers other opportunities to get better in languages such as speaker events, internships abroad, summer language courses abroad, etc…

I truly feel that Princeton is one of the best places to brush up your skills in many languages or acquire new ones. Plus, you will want to take a class in East Pyne (the building that hosts most of the language departments): it is absolutely stunning! If you don’t believe me, come see for yourself!

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P.S.: If you have questions about any of the things mentioned above, do not hesitate to send me an email!

The first day of classes always brings a contradictory mix of emotions. Everyone feels a little nervous regarding the uncertainty of new courses and professors: Will I be able to handle the problem sets? Do I know anyone in my classes? Can I really make it from the Neuroscience Institute to the Friend Center in ten minutes? There's also, however, the excitement and promise of a fresh semester. You look forward to learning from some of the best minds in their fields, pushing yourself to improve your critical thinking and problem solving skills, and working with your friends to tackle challenging yet rewarding assignments. To capture some of this excitement and help calm any first-day nerves, our Undergraduate Student Government (USG) traditionally hosts a bagel and coffee stand on the first day. Princetonians will gather on McCosh Walk to eat breakfast, catch up on how they spent their break, and have first-day photos taken. Due to Covid restrictions this year regarding gatherings with food, Student Council decided to host a scarf distribution instead. In my opinion, this was far better than bagels! Not only does a scarf last, it proved very useful on the chilly January morning that marked the first day of the spring semester. Students lined up for their scarves and took photos together (with the Tiger mascot appearing at some point during the morning), and then they wore their new gear to their first classes of the new year. 

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After bundling up in my scarf, I continued to the Neuroscience Institute for the first lecture of Probability and Stochastic Systems. Professor Ramon started by giving us an intuitive definition of probability, and then he computed the probability of an event in two different ways. He asked us which computation was correct. The catch, though, is that with the intuitive definition of probability he gave, both are correct! This first lecture established why we need a rigorous mathematical definition of probability, and it made me excited and motivated for the course. 

Next I went to my lecture for Environmental Engineering Laboratory. This is my first lab course in person, and I'm really looking forward to the hands-on data collection we'll be doing. Professor Jaffé introduced the topic of our first lab and explained how we'll write our reports. I didn't know anyone in that class, but at the end I introduced myself to the people around me and formed my lab group.

While the first class doesn't usually cover the complicated derivations or deep discussions that take place in the heart of the course, it can nonetheless be a little overwhelming. Navigating campus to find unknown buildings and classrooms, introducing yourself to your new professors and classmates, and hearing about the upcoming expectations and assignments of your course load can be a lot to take in. Getting back into the flow of courses felt nice, though, as I'd begun to get a little bored towards the end of winter recess. By the second week, I was beginning to feel more confident in managing the workflow of each class, and I'd arranged study groups for most of my courses. The first day marked the beginning of a promising new semester, and I'm looking forward to what's to come.